The Tirek Who Tolerated Me

Chapters

*Ahem.* Gentleponies?
See you in Tartarus, you handsome rogue!
We still have a problem. (And a pony.)
MEET THE SPYTAUR
Sorry to horn in unannounced.
I feel très pon!
That filly is not one of us.
You want to be MY friend?! Earn it!
BEFRIEND ME!
(Panicked Screaming in Prench)
Good Lord! You fight like a mare!
This... is a centaur. (Dear God!)
You are a Princess and a fool!
Your special skill is dreaming? Mine is murdering people!
Congratulations! You're an Empress.
I love a good backstabbing. (Part One)
I love a good backstabbing. (Part Two)
I love a good backstabbing. (Part Three)
Gentlemen, synchronize your Friendship Watches.
Well, off to visit your Princess!
My fish is sharp, my newspaper is read, my nose-ring is freshly polished; time to win.

Ahem. Gentleponies?

Spy's first thought was: Pain. So much pain.

His second thought was that the first thought was appallingly cliché. “Man wakes up after being knocked out, can only think about how much it hurts.” How mortifying. How trite. Not that he was any stranger to pain, far from it, but he’d hoped that after years of introducing the concept of style to a herd of barbarians - not that they'd listened - he’d earned a better class of awakening. Not only that, but the pain was… well, he’d always assumed that the phrase ‘he hurt in places he never knew he had’ was just a bad author’s attempt to appear clever, but his nervous system was definitely reporting in from unfamiliar territory. As usual, the universe was being even more stupid than he’d come to expect.

He forced his eyes open, but excruciating pain immediately closed them tight. He should have expected that; the experience wouldn't have been complete without the obligatory 'icepicks in the retinas' analogy. Still, he'd noticed a few details, despite having blurred vision. The area was lit by some kind of soft blue glow, and there were rock formations nearby that suggested he was in a cave. Oh, yes, and he was also behind metal bars.

Well. That about settled it. He'd rolled the dice and come up craps. He'd known this would be a possible outcome, but that had just made the whole thing even more enticing.

With some difficulty - he felt oddly heavy - Spy managed to grasp the bars of his cage and pull himself up to lean against them. Reflexively, he reached for his cigarette case, but it wasn't in its customary pocket. This was unsurprising, for two reasons: first, because the case doubled as a holographic disguise projector, and that would have certainly been taken off him by his abductor; and second, because his pocket was also missing. By the feel of it, his suit jacket had been replaced with a tattered shirt of uncertain material. And by the smell of it, the shirt had never, ever been washed.

"Merde," he muttered. He could really use a smoke.

“Oh! So you’re finally awake!”

He paused. He had been expecting to hear a female voice, but this voice was unfamiliar. Too high pitched, almost like a child’s. “Regrettably,” he said finally, and tried to open his eyes again. The pain was easing, and he could just about manage a squint.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Did your little plan go astray?”

He craned his head toward the speaker, but couldn't quite make the whole turn. Ye gods, his entire body felt heavy, especially from the waist down. Was he tethered to the ground somehow? "...well," he said after a moment, "you can't really blame me for trying it at least once." They could, of course. It was the one unforgivable crime.

Stand up, he decided. Of all the possible actions he might take, the only one that would be easier from the ground would be to grovel for mercy. And he had no reason to assume his captor had any to spare.

Spy gripped the bars and pulled himself even further up, and this worked for about two seconds, until he tried to get his legs under him. They informed him that they were currently bent beneath him, yet at the same time splayed out from his body. The resulting confusion sent him back to the floor with a yelp, striking his head against the bars as he went.

The child tittered. "Oopsie! Is baby feeling dizzy on his hooves?"

The oddness of 'hooves' did not, at the time, fully register with Spy, who was too busy worrying that he'd gotten a concussion. Whatever knockout drug that had been used on him was clearly powerful stuff. "If you aren't going to help me up," he growled, "you could at least give me some peace and quiet." Not a good choice, angering your captor, but he was already in for maximum abuse to begin with. He could hardly make it worse.

He ran a hand over the point of impact (his balaclava was missing, too; that was disturbing), then peered down at his palm through blurred vision to check for blood. Mon dieu, it was worse than he'd thought; his palm was completely red, or at least reddish-brown. And... his forearm as well? And the back of his hand? While not, he realized, actually being wet?

What the hell? Had he been soaked in blood while unconscious? And then left to dry? Whoever his captor was, they had a macabre sense of humor.

The false sympathy dropped from the child's voice like a Heavy with a heart condition. "And how am I supposed to help you, even if I wanted to? Since you messed up, we're both stuck down here like always!"

Spy raised himself up on his forearms and tried to physically force his body to turn toward the child. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said between grunts of effort. "But if you didn't want to be in this situation, then you shouldn't have taken the job, should you?"

"What?! What job? What are you talking about?!"

He paused in his efforts and managed a chuckle. "Come now. There's no need to be coy. We both know you were sent to kill me."

"What?!" The tone of absolute horror was a masterful touch, he considered, but it sounded far too genuine to be real.

"I have to say," Spy continued, "it's a trifle disappointing that the Administrator sub-contracted out the... well, the contract to a prepubescent serial killer, no matter how talented they may be. The old hag has always been refreshingly personal in such things. But then, I suppose Miss Pauling is overworked as it is." He paused. "I hope they didn't recruit you under an unpaid internship. Scams like that give the profession a bad name."

It was several seconds before the child could produce more than a sputter of shock. "Have you lost your mind?! I would never agree to do anything like that!"

"Ah, wise choice. Get the money up front, that's my advice."

"I mean agree to... to..." The child seemed to have trouble with the next word. "...k... kill..."

Spy sighed. "Really, this is getting tiring, and your feigned innocence is wasted on me. You could at least have the common decency to show yourself. I understand the value of concealment - believe me - but this is an execution, not an assassination. There are standards."

"I'm right in front of you," the child grated through clenched teeth.

Spy hesitated and raised his head, peering through still-blurred vision. Nothing new to see, really: lights, rocks, bars, and...

Huh. "Behind the..." He squinted harder. "...beige sheep?"

Icy silence reigned, then: "Oh. I get it. I get it. You're messing with me. You're being weird and rude and you're messing with me, and I don't have to put up with it! I'm going to sleep! Good night!" Coincidentally, the sheep lay down at this point.

"Hm. Dors bien, then." It wasn't a bad idea, actually. He still ached like the devil's plaything, and whatever state he'd been in before returning to consciousness, it probably hadn't counted as sleep. He wasn't exactly in a comfortable position, lying on the ground like this, but his body wasn't reacting properly enough to get itself sorted out. It would have to do.

Yes. A good rest to clear his mind, ease his body, and prepare him to get murdered in the morning. Exactly what he needed.

He was woken up less than twenty minutes later.

"Hey! HEY! Listen! I figured it out!"

Spy groaned as all his aches rushed back. "You can kill me in my sleep, you know. I don't mind."

"Stop being weird and listen." The child paused dramatically. "You aren't Tirek, are you?"

"...I might be able to answer that," he said wearily, lifting his head and opening his eyes, "if I had any ideaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH!"

The brief rest had had at least one benefit: it had cleared his vision.

The... thing on the other side of the bars was truly grotesque. Its head was huge, its eyes were enormous, and it was looking at him. He recoiled, or at least tried to do so; the peculiar heaviness of his own body had persisted. "What... what in blue blazes is that thing?!"

The giant eyes narrowed. This wasn't an improvement. And then - horror of horrors - the creature spoke, in the voice of his captor. "Well, I'm not a thing, first of all. And I'm not a sheep, either. I'm Cozy Glow!" Its expression became smug. "And I was right! You aren't Tirek, even though you look like him."

"I... look like..." With dread creeping along his spine, he looked down at himself - at his mud-red skin, at his claw-tipped fingers, at the undeniably horse-shaped mass where his torso ended - and his heart began to race in horrified panic. "This... this can't be real..." he whispered.

"Gosh," the abomination said, as Spy patted his body in a desperate attempt to find a zipper or seam, "and here I was thinking Tirek's spell didn't work!" It cocked its head slightly. "...though it kind of didn't? I don't think this is what he had planned."

Spy suddenly froze in place, halting his examination of his new face. "Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no! This can't be happening!"

"What? What is it?"

"Is this... a nose ring?! Am I wearing an actual nose ring?! Cela ne peut pas être!" He slumped in place. "This is Hell. Actual, literal Hell."

Cozy Glow blinked at the unfamiliar words. "Um. No? You're in Tartarus."

Spy, who failed to see the distinction, ignored this. "I am in Hell, and the Demons of Style have been assigned to my torment."

"Oh, golly! Don't be sad, mister! And don't you worry! I bet as soon as Tirek realizes what happened, he'll fix everything and get both of us out of here! He'll probably want his body back, anyway."

Spy stared at the creature. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Not Hell, silly! I told you, we're in Tartarus! What is 'Hell', anyway? Is that where you're from?"

"...some might say that," he admitted wryly, "but my current residence is called 'the American Midwest'."

"No wonder you seem so confused, then. You probably don't even know what ponies are, huh? That must be why you thought I was a sheep."

He was too mentally drained for further sarcasm. "I am a man of many talents," he said, "but comparative ungulate studies is not one of them. Could you please just tell me what's going on, little..." Boy? Girl? It was wearing a ribbon. "...girl?"

To his mild horror, Cozy Glow spread a pair of tiny, tiny feathered wings and, in a complete mockery of aerodynamic principles, briefly took to the air. "I'd love to!" she gushed. "I used to run a whole school by myself, y'know, so I'm good at explaining things."

"You're in a cage," he realized. "Why is a child in a cage?"

"Oh, Tartarus is a prison," she explained offhandedly... or... offhoofedly? The shapeless mass at the end of her leg didn't look like a hoof to Spy, but again, not his field of expertise. "Anyway, where should I start...?"

So she told him about Equestria and the Princesses that ruled it, and about ponies, and the magic of friendship, and how Tirek - the world-conquering magic-eating centaur - had been put in Tartarus for a thousand years. "...and then he came up with a plan," she continued. "He's pretty powerless these days, but after I made this rift to another world, he said I still have a lot of that magic stuck to me. He was going to use that magic to reopen the rift and take both of us through it!" She sighed. "But when he tried it, he just kind of fell over, and then when he woke up... well, you know the rest. So I bet that he sent his mind through the rift, but not his body. And since you're in his body, he must now be in your body!" She giggled. "It's a classic magical switcharoo. Happens all the time. So don't worry, okay? Everything will be fine once Tirek fixes everything and pulls us through to your world. And then we can all be best friends forever! Isn't that great?!"

Hearing no response, Cozy Glow stopped and looked at Spy, who had been silent and expressionless during the entire explanation. "Um... are you okay? Do you... need me to repeat anything?"

"No... no, I understand. I understand everything."

"Really? Because honestly, now that I think about, that all seems like a lot to take in."

"Of course. It's perfectly clear." He lay his head back down. "I am hallucinating."

"...what?"

"i was put unconscious by some sort of chemical trap. The drug they used must be affecting my mind. You, this cage, this body... they are all just figments of my imagination. I'm rather disgusted that my psyche could have concocted such a mockery of a delusion, but that's an issue for therapy later." He closed his eyes. "I'm going back to sleep, and when I wake up, either the drug will have worn off and all this nonsense will have evaporated like summer mist, or my captor will have killed me. Either way, adieu."

Cozy Glow stared at him as he settled in. "You are so weird."

"At least I'm real. Good night."

Night fell, and the Dream Realm came alive with the slumbering fantasies of every creature in Equestria...

Princess Luna shook her head, her midnight mane flowing in an ethereal breeze. "I understand how you feel, Great Elder. But your time has not yet come. You must continue to conserve your strength for now, so that when the prophecy is fulfilled and Equestria reaches its darkest hour, you will have the power to save everypony from the horrible fate that awaits them. Until then, I beg you: bide your time and stay where you are most needed."

Gummy blinked, his eyelids closing out of sync with each other.

She knelt before him. "Thank you. Now, I must continue my duties. Fare thee well!"

Luna leapt out of the dream, then walked along the row of countless others. It was shaping up to be a quiet night; only a very few ponies were having the kind of dreams that required her intervention. Oh, there were a number of the 'I ate too much before bed and now the dessert trolley is chasing me' variety, but she tended to leave those alone in any case. Ponies needed to learn their lesson the hard way sometimes.

Yes, it was a peaceful night. Perhaps she would visit the dream of Twilight Sparkle and indulge in a bit of light reading in her library. The Princess of Friendship was always kind enough to-

She stopped and lifted her head, her ears swiveling. Had that been a scream just now? It had sounded strangely muted - and pained, rather than fearful - but she was sure...

Another scream of agony echoed across the Dream Realm, and she quickly turned toward its source. This was dreadful! Ponies weren't supposed to feel pain in their dreams! It was bad enough when a nightmare terrified them, but if it was as bad as this...! She had to help them, no matter what!

And then she found the dream, and halted in her tracks with a gasp.

"Tirek?!" She walked slowly around the dream, peering at the shifting images displayed on its surface. At least, it seemed to be Tirek's dream. Each of Equestria's most powerful enemies had had their dreams quarantined, sequestered into an area distinct from those of ordinary creatures, and surrounded by defenses of Luna's own devising. If any of them managed to escape or do great harm to anypony, they wouldn't do it through the Dream Realm.

Discord's dream was missing, of course. She'd long ago given up trying to control his dream in any fashion. And Chrysalis' dream was wrapped up tight in a cocoon, because the Changeling Queen refused to give Luna access to her mind. But Tirek's dreams were usually here; she checked on them occasionally, and they were always highly predictable in their subject matter. And this dream was in the right place, and it felt like Tirek's dream... but then again, somehow it didn't.

Another scream rose from the dream, which was filled with chaotic scenes of fire, explosions, and so, so much blood.

She had to investigate. It was a risk, because she wasn't positive he couldn't take her magic in a dream, but the magical wards in Tartarus were created to keep his abilities in check; it should be safe enough. Poised to escape if he tried anything, she leapt into the dream.

Her hooves landed with a sound of shifting pebbles, and she looked around at a place like... well, 'like nothing she'd ever seen' wasn't quite right. There were stone tunnels, and buildings of metal and wood, and everywhere piles upon piles of... she dug lightly with her foot to confirm. Gravel, yes. Why so much of it?

But apart from that, everything had a... an alien feel to it. These were things ponies could build, but in some indefinable way, wouldn't. The proportions were off, the buildings seemed to serve no actual purpose, and there were little details everywhere that made no sense. What was a 'capture point', and why were there so many signs pointing to them? Why did some of those tunnels just end several feet above the ground, for instance? A pony could hurt themselves.

And she was alone, which was impossible. Dreams require a dreamer, after all.

(From the shadows, he watched her. In the waking world, he knew his equipment had been taken from him, and this had carried over into his dream. But that was fine; he'd worked for years without the special gear given to him by his current employers. And at least he had his suit. He could improvise.)

There was a sudden scream from close by, just on the other side of a small shed. She hurried over and...

Nothing. Nopony was there at all.

Another scream, a few yards away. She looked up sharply, and for a fraction of a second saw... something. Some kind of huge creature, like a hairless yeti, clutching at its back. And then it was gone without a trace.

No. One trace: a sinister chuckle floated on the wind before fading.

As she stared at the place where the creature had been, another scream sounded, and another chuckle followed.

Luna narrowed her eyes and began to walk, following the screams. They seemed to come from different creatures, or at least from different voices. Was something in this dream chasing the dreamer? Or was the dreamer-?

"It appears I have a visitor." The voice echoed in this place, and she couldn't pinpoint its source. "Comment ça va, mademoiselle cheval?"

Luna whirled, but saw nothing. "Tirek? Is that you?"

"...who else would it be?"

Agitated and unnerved, Luna did not, at the time, realize this wasn't a confirmation. "You sound... strange. What is this dream you're having? I've never seen a place like this."

"Ah, yes. The Gravel Pit. Not my favorite stomping ground, admittedly, but worthy enough."

She shook her head. "This is odd. Your dreams have always been about conquest, not mindless violence. I heard those screams, and... where are you?"

"Who knows? Perhaps I'm... right behind you!"

She tensed and leapt forward, turning to see...

"Or perhaps not." Another little laugh, the same as the ones before. That didn't sound like Tirek, did it? She had never made a habit of talking to the centaur, but this all seemed out of character for him. And since when did he speak Prench?

Enough of this.

"No more games!" she shouted with her Canterlot Royal Voice, her horn blazing with purple light. "Show yourself immediately, or I will rip this dream asunder, and then come to Tartarus to finish the job!"

"Really? How rude of you. You come into my dream and threaten to break it, without even knocking first? Or introducing yourself?"

"Introduce myself? Are you pretending to not recognize Princess Luna, Guardian of the Dream Realm?!"

There was silence, then a long chuckle began. "Oh, that's right! The little one did mention it. 'Princess Luna of the Moon!' What a stupid name."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"And your sister, 'Celestia of the Sun'. Well, that's slightly less obvious, I suppose, but really my subconscious has a lot to answer for right now."

"What are you...?" Anger turned to wariness, and Luna took a nervous step backwards. "You... aren't Tirek, are you?"

Another laugh. "I've been getting that question a lot lately. Names are such useless things, I've always found."

This was all too confusing. "Something is very wrong here," she said slowly. "I'm leaving this dream and coming to Tartarus. And then, whoever you are, we will have words."

"Oh, don't leave yet," the voice jeered. "We were just getting acquainted! Come on, let's have a chat. Perhaps we could play a nice game of cards!"

"I don't think so."

"We could play Go Fish, or canasta..."

She spread her wings. "I'm leaving now."

"...Old Maid..." he added pointedly.

Luna bristled and her hornlight flared. "How dare...!"

"Or my personal favorite..."

She heard the footstep a fraction of a second too late. Luna saw a swift movement out of the corner of her eye, then experienced a brief, intense pain before darkness took her.

Standing over her prone form, Spy tossed his gravel-filled sock in the air once, catching it easily. "...blackjack."

The midnight pony evaporated as he watched. He idly wondered if that meant she was dead. He'd never gotten the chance to murder a princess before, and that would look good on his resume. Though 'imaginary pony princess' would sound rather less impressive, so he'd probably leave that out.

"Well," he murmured, "the moment has passed." He sat down on the edge of a platform and watched his memories of past battles flow by, laughing at the more amusing stabbings. He still fully expected to be killed when he woke up - or earlier - so he may as well take some enjoyment in watching other peoples' lives flash before his eyes.

Author's Note

Yeah, so, HiE isn't something that interests me much, but I was idly thinking about someone getting put into Tirek, and then my brain said "And it's the Spy." I said what? "It's the Spy." ...it's the Spy, then.

See you in Tartarus, you handsome rogue!

There were things that Spy had to try to sleep through every morning. The brazen notes of Revellie, or at least what Soldier thought of as Revellie, played on whatever vaguely trumpet-like object he'd been able to scavenge from the garbage. The slurred challenges to teammates, inanimate objects and nonexistent enemies that marked Demoman's return from the previous night's drinking. The shouted arguments between Scout and... well, practically anyone.

None of that happened this time, and when Spy finally woke up, it was with a feeling of complete refreshment, tainted by a sense of creeping existential horror fed by his continual justified paranoia. He started to open his eyes, but memory of the previous night returned, and he quickly closed them again until he could sort things through.

All right. He'd been captured, yes? No. That was too much of an assumption. He'd been knocked out, that much he was sure of. Anything past that was suspect.

Had he been captured? It was beginning to seem more and more unlikely as he considered the possibility. Anyone likely to have retrieved his unconscious body would probably not have allowed him to wake up as pleasantly as he did. The same could be said if his teammates had found him, no doubt puzzled about his sudden absence. They would be so concerned at first - Spy never considered himself to be anything but the cherished backbone of the team, no matter how many times he was proven wrong - but then, when they saw what was beside his prone form...

No. During his... experience the previous night, he was certain he would be killed, or worse. That certainty was fully justified, he knew, yet it was completely at odds with the well-being he currently felt. On the other hand, the things he saw and heard last night... well, hallucinogenic chemicals were clearly the most logical explanation!

...weren't they?

He was not a connoisseur of such matters, but as he understood it, drug-induced fantasies were never so... consistent as the story the little pony had told him. Though the foundation of it had been utterly preposterous, once it had been established, there were no random leaps of logic connecting one thought to another, which one would expect from a delusion created by an altered mind. It all fit together, ludicrous as it had been. That consistency had even, he realized, followed him into his dream... and that, too, was odd. He'd never had a dream so lucid, or remembered one so well upon awakening. Which meant that, if his hallucination was not a hallucination, if everything had been real...

Then he may have assaulted - from ambush - one of the entities responsible for his incarceration. That... did not bode well.

But this was all speculation. It was still possible that he'd been found by some unknown third party, a Good Samaritan that had found him and brought him to their home, letting him rest in a nice, soft bed. Of course, he could tell by the feel of it that he was on the ground, but perhaps he had fallen out during the night.

Yes. All he had to do to confirm it was open his eyes and see anything other than-

"Good morning, mister!" Cozy Glow chirped. "Are you feeling better? Less weird, maybe?"

Spy closed his eyes again. "Merde."

The tiny pegasus tilted her head to one side. "You keep saying that word. What does it mean?"

"It means I desperately want a cigarette," he lied, though to be fair, just because it was a lie didn't meant it wasn't also true. He forced himself to sit up; this took some time, but he eventually managed to get all his legs under him comfortably.

"Golly. I don't know what that word means either!"

Spy paused and stared at her. "No cigarettes? What about 'cigar'? 'Tobacco'?" He made a face. "'Menthol'?"

She considered this. "Hmmm... nope, nope, nope! Never heard of any of that. What are they?"

"...that confirms it," he declared with a sigh. "I really am in Hell."

Cozy Glow giggled. "No, silly! I told you, you're-"

"In Tartarus, yes, I was being... never mind." He rubbed his face to banish the last traces of sleep, and was reminded of its new altered form. The hated nose ring was still there, as well as a beard of not-unreasonable length, and... horns? Really? Just give him a pitchfork, why don't they...

The pegasus gasped. "Wait a minute... does that mean...?"

"Yes," he said wearily, "I have to admit that all this is increasingly unlikely to be a hallucination. In defiance of solipsism, I will accept - for the moment - that this place, this world, is real." He surveyed the pastel-colored pony before him. "No matter how ridiculous that may be."

Cozy Glow blinked in confusion. "Gosh, you sure do use a lot of big words, mister... um..." She hesitated. "That's right, I never got your name, did I?"

"Names are such-" He stopped and shook his head. "You may call me Spy. It's as good a name as any other."

He expected a comment, as so often happened, on how strange the name was, but here it seemed to pass muster. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Spy!" She pushed a hoof between the bars of her cage and held it out to him with a broad smile.

"Likewise, I'm sure," he said distractedly. Good grief, he wasn't wearing a shirt after all, was he? This was fur. And not even the good kind of fur that relied on the cruelty to woodland creatures, no, this was fur growing from his actual skin. Did they not even clothe their prisoners in this wretched place? The standard orange jumpsuit was a fashion disaster, but at least it met minimum standards of decency. And he was being paraded before a small child as well! All right, yes, the child also appeared to be unclothed, but that only made it worse! At least he didn't appear to have any nipples...

Cozy Glow cleared her throat meaningfully. Spy looked up, and saw that she was still reaching out to him. "...oh. Yes." He shook her ha... hoof, noticing the oddly soft texture where, on any natural creature, he would have expected calloused skin from walking. He was sure Medic would have thoughts on the subject, but all things considered it was a small mercy that the doctor would never be exposed to Cozy Glow.

The pegasus clapped her hooves together in excitement. "Oh, I know we're just going to be the best of friends!" She sat down and looked at him expectantly. "So, Mister Spy! Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"I'm a gardener," he said immediately, the lie coming automatically.

Her brow furrowed. "A... gardener?"

"Yes. A gardener. I garden. It is very boring." He decided to give standing a try. Coordinating two extra limbs would stymie any normal man, but with his natural dexterity and extensive physical training, he-

His hind legs decided to part ways with the floor, and he sat down heavily.

"...but last night, you thought I was sent to... to get rid of you," she said over his muffled curses. "That doesn't sound like something that would happen to a gardener."

"I am a very bad gardener. I have ruined many gardens, but I persist because I love what I do. Which, as I said, is very boring and not worthy of discussion in any way," he added, in case she hadn't gotten the hint.

Cozy Glow watched him for a moment, then laughed. "No... you can't fib a fibber! There's something else going on here. What's your real job, Mister Spy?"

He, in turn, regarded the pegasus with a spark of interest. This one was sharper than she looked. "Are you sure you want to know?" She opened her mouth to respond, but he raised a finger. "Think about this carefully. What I will tell you isn't very pleasant, and is not something I would usually discuss with a child." Particularly one that couldn't say the word 'kill'.

The expression she wore was gratifying, he thought. Appropriately fearful and uncertain, but with just a soupçon of adolescent curiosity. "Oh, gee. Um, well..." He could see her change her mind several times before coming to a decision. "...all right. Tell me."

Spy smiled thinly. "You're sure?"

She hesitated, then nodded.

"Very well, then. I..." Dramatic pause. "...am an assassin."

Cozy Glow tilted her head in puzzlement. "I don't..."

"A hitman. A contract killer." He leaned forward and broadened his smile, his eyes wide. "I murder people. For money."

She swallowed nervously. "You... you do?"

"Oh, yes. And I am exceptionally good at it."

"Th... this is a joke, right?" Cozy Glow backed away from him. "Y-you're just being weird again. Right?"

"It's no joke, Miss Glow. I have killed hundreds. Thousands. Is it really so surprising?" He gestured at his cage. "With a prison such as this, surely this 'Equestria' of yours has seen violence before?"

"B-but you seem so... nice!"

He gave her a small bow. "Thank you. I pride myself on maintaining a level of civility."

"Oh, my goodness." She paced around her cage, not looking at him. "I'm used to being around Tirek, and he's pretty bad, but..."

"Shall I tell you about my most memorable assignment?" he asked, thoroughly enjoying this. "Picture a delightful woodland cottage in summer. A loving married couple live there, along with their strong son and beautiful baby daughter. They even have a dog."

She brightened. "I love dogs! They're so cute!"

"Indeed. The dog had to go first, of course," Spy continued. "It knew too much."

Shocked realization gripped the pegasus. "Nooo!"

"Then the son, a strapping lad about your age, I would guess. Got good grades in school, liked to play with his train set, and was skilled in seven different lethal martial arts. I still have the scar."

"I can't believe you would..." She stopped. "Wait... what?"

"And the parents - she an expert in marine biological warfare, he a master combat chef - combined their skills to create a murderous octopus capable of throwing seven flaming kebabs at once, which I barely-" He saw her expression of horrified confusion. "Well, what did you expect? Someone of my caliber would hardly be called in to dispatch ordinary people."

"But... what about the baby? You didn't hurt the baby, did you?!"

"Of course not. What do you take me for?" She relaxed... until he continued. "She was the objective. The formula for a highly potent neurotoxin had been tattooed on her tiny infant skull. After I disabled the explosive traps on her crib, I turned her over to my employers. They've treated her well, I understand. Still in kindergarten, and she's already eliminated three counter-agents sent to retrieve her."

Cozy Glow stared at him. "Your whole world is weird."

He shrugged. "That was an exception, of course. My job is rarely that exciting. Currently I'm on a long-term contract with a very old firm, working with a team of brutes, maniacs and reprobates on a variety of missions. Sometimes a target must be eliminated to protect my teammates. Sometimes a target is between us and our objective. Sometimes the target must die to keep them from pushing a large explosive device into our base, and to keep them from keeping us from pushing a large explosive device into their base. Sometimes they are simply filthy bushmen who have thrown their disgusting jars at me once too often!"

Spy realized he was shouting, and forced himself to calm down. "Ahem. What I mean to say is that my world is... a complicated one, and I do whatever it takes to finish the job. I slip behind enemy lines, and with my little knife, I dispatch anyone who gets in my way." He gave her a flat, direct look, to dispel any misunderstanding. "Anyone."

He let that hang in the air for a moment. "So. You wanted to know about me, Miss Glow? That is who I am: a killer for hire. A dashing rogue who thinks nothing of the sanctity of life. If that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will stay true to my calling."

Having completed his lecture on his favorite subject, Spy waited, letting silence carry the rest of the discussion. Finally, Cozy Glow said, in a shocked whisper, "My goodness... To hurt so many, just to get what you want... that sounds so... so..."

He chuckled. "Horrible? Appalling? Terrifying?"

"...rewarding."

Spy looked up sharply. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hm? Oh, golly! What I mean is, you're willing to do such terrible things, just to help out your, uh, 'team'! That's pretty admirable, when you think about it!"

He was briefly taken aback. "Well. Not 'just' for that reason. I did mention the money." But he was watching her carefully now. There had been an edge to her initial response, and the slightest stumble before she leapt into her oh-so-fluffy childish persona. There was something beneath the surface there, he was certain. And he remembered a question from the previous night that had never gotten a proper answer...

"But still," she gushed, "the fact that you'd go that far for your friends is-"

She stopped, interrupted by Spy's snorting laughter. "Friends? No, no, no. Don't misunderstand, Miss Glow. I work with these people, yes, and there is a certain... camaraderie. But friends? Hardly. Associates, at best."

The pegasus looked downcast. "Aw, gee, that's too bad. There isn't anything more important than friendship!"

"Really."

"Well, sure! That's how Tirek got defeated and put back in here. Twilight Sparkle told us all about it at Friendship School! When everything seemed darkest, she and the other teachers were empowered by the Elements of Harmony, and they got all glowy, with magical super-long manes-"

"Fascinating." You could moor boats to his tone of voice.

"-and then they used the magic of friendship to defeat him!" She blinked as a thought occurred. "You should try being friends with your team, instead of just associates. I bet you'd all do so much better!"

He tried, without much success, to ignore the image of the Heavy with long, magical locks that flashed through his mind. "Again, I should point out that the thing we'd be doing so much better would be murdering people."

"And that's terrible," she said quickly, "but maybe by working together you could figure out how to get things done... without hurting anyone?"

Spy laughed. "I'm afraid not. To them, violence is generally considered a bonus, if not a necessity."

"Aw, c'mon," Cozy Glow insisted. "They can't be that bad, can they?"

He regarded her silently for a moment. Truth be told, he had hoped to scare the filly into silence with his story; he would need peace and quiet to collect his thoughts, and she had a Scout-like loquaciousness. That plan, however, had not worked as intended, and now he was having to re-evaluate Cozy Glow. Who was she, really? What was she hiding? She was being more careful now, but he could bide his time and strike when her guard was down. It's what he was best at, after all.

"All right, then," he said. "Let me tell you another story..."

Leagues away in Canterlot, there was a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. It sported a smiley face of whipped cream (with cherries for pupils) and looked absolutely delicious, yet remained uneaten. Completely untouched, in fact... except for the way Princess Celestia kept making it grubby by glancing at it every ten seconds.

"Is there a problem, Princess?" asked Raven Inkwell, Celestia's trusted advisor, as she approached the table.

"Hm? Oh... no. I'm sure everything's fine."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "If you want her pancakes, I'm sure Princess Luna wouldn't mind." Celestia glowered at her, and she smiled slightly. "I noticed that the Moon was still up at this morning's Raising. Another difficult night for Luna?"

Celestia sighed. "It must have been. This isn't the first time she's worked so hard she's forgotten to lower the Moon, but she usually makes it to breakfast."

"Shall I wake her up?"

"No, no. If she's this tired, she's probably earned her rest." She took a bite of her own pancakes, but glanced at Luna's plate again.

"As you wish." She pulled a scroll from her saddlebag and placed it on the table. "This morning's reports."

"Thank you, Raven." The mare bowed, and was nearly to the door when the Princess spoke again. "Raven? Was this... everything?"

She turned, puzzled. "Ma'am?"

Celesta, magically holding the unrolled scroll before her, was peering closely at it, even checking both sides of the parchment. "Was this everything from last night?"

"As far as I know."

"There weren't any..." She waved a hoof. "...earthquakes? Monster attacks? Late night pie-eating contests?"

"No, your Highness. There was a bit of magical turbulence in the late afternoon, according to reports from various unicorns, but it was so minor I didn't think it was worth mentioning. Other than that, it was very peaceful."

"But... that doesn't make sense! Why would..." Celestia stood up suddenly. "Come with me!"

Raven quickly followed behind Celestia as the alicorn hurried toward her sister's quarters. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"If there was no reason for a rash of nightmares last night," Celestia replied, "then Luna couldn't have overworked herself. Something must have happened to her!"

Raven wouldn't have her position if she was a slow thinker. "Something to do with the turbulence? I thought it was just aftereffects from that pegasus filly's spell!"

"I'm afraid you may be right," Celestia said darkly.

They arrived at Luna's bedchambers, and Celestia knocked heavily on the door. "Luna? Sister, are you there?!"

The room beyond remained utterly silent.

"Luna, I'm coming in!" She pushed the door open, and...

Raven clapped a hoof to her mouth. "Oh my goodness!"

...Luna's prone form was spread out on the floor, one leg tucked uncomfortably beneath her. A small end table had been knocked over when she fell, and personal items were scattered nearby.

"Luna!" Celestia hurried over to her sister and knelt next to her, looking her over intently. "...thank the stars, she's still breathing!" She looked at Raven sharply. "Get a doctor! Quickly!"

As the pony sped away, she continued to minister to Luna with tears in her eyes. "Sister, wake up! Speak to me!"

Long seconds passes with no response... then a faint groan arose, and Luna's eyes opened fractionally. "...s...sister..."

"Oh, thank goodness! Help is coming. What happened to you? Was it Tirek?"

"...no..." Luna managed, fighting a losing battle against the pain. "...not tirek... someone else..." Her eyes fluttered shut once more.

"Please, wake up, sister! Sister! Luna!"

We still have a problem. (And a pony.)

"There's still a few things I don't really understand," Cozy Glow said finally. She was reclining on the floor of her cage, having been listening to Spy's tales of bloodshed and mayhem for the past... who knew how long in this wretched place.

For his part, Spy was walking the circumference of his own cage, using the bars as support. He was barely stumbling at all now. "Understandable. It's a completely different world from yours. Ask away."

"So... you work with all these creatures..."

"Men," he corrected. "Male humans are men, females are women. Remember?"

"Right. Men. And they're all basically no good because they're... um..."

"An obese giant, an insane doctor, a hillbilly, an idiot, a smaller idiot, a drunken vandal, a disgusting bushman, and a mumbling abomination against nature itself. Correct."

"So, if you're so much better than them... why do you still work with them?"

He paused and looked down at her. "I'm sorry, does this world not have the concept of money? I thought I'd explained this."

She shook her head. "No, no, I get that part... I guess. But I mean... wouldn't you make more money somewhere else? If you're really the best, you should be able to name your price!"

"Hm. A fair question. In fact, there are very few positions available to one such as I that pay as well and as regularly as the Mann account. Redmond and Blutarch were both insanely wealthy, and never really came to grips with the concept of money themselves. They spent their fortunes like water in their endless competition, and their estates continue those exorbitant payments. Besides," Spy added, "I find my current duties... satisfying."

"But you could get a better job if you wanted, right?" Cozy Glow pressed.

"Well... naturally, if I-"

"But you don't. Why? Is there something stopping you?"

Again, Spy was forced to re-evaluate the filly. She seemed innocent enough, yet her questions kept slipping in where he didn't want them to go. Sharp indeed. "No. Next question."

"Are you sure?" she asked teasingly. "It couldn't be because you're closer to your team than you want to admit, could it?"

"No!" he said, perhaps too quickly. "I have no social or familial ties to those cretins whatsoever! Next question!"

"Huh? I didn't say anything about fam-"

Damn! She had him off-balance and he didn't like it. "Next. Question."

"All right, all right. Golly, you sure are touchy." Cozy Glow thought for a moment, ignoring his sour look. "Tell me more about this... Aw-stray-lee-um stuff. You said there wasn't much magic in your world, but that sounded super magical!"

"Ah, yes. Australium," Spy said, calming down a bit. "Hah. It may as well be magic. A golden metal that turned a continent of swaggering hooligans into mustachioed geniuses overnight... yes, very nearly magical, if not a deal with the Devil himself. There are trace amounts of it in some of the more fantastical tools in my arsenal, but I don't have the slightest idea how it works. Which is probably best for my sanity."

"But, gosh! If it's so powerful..."

"Then why don't I use it myself?" Power, eh? He made a mental note and continued. "Even if I knew how, gathering a supply wouldn't be the same as, say, going to the local convenience store, or robbing the local convenience bank. Every last gram of Australium is ferociously guarded; if not by the government of Australia, then by my own employers."

"You could get some, though, couldn't you?"

He suppressed a smile. At the very least, she was perceptive. "Technically speaking? Of course. Realistically..." He shook his head. "Not from my employers. They know me too well. And if I were to steal from the source on my own initiative, why, it could cause an international incident, perhaps start a war between Australia and France itself! I do have some standards."

"France?"

"Oh. Yes. My home country."

She thought about this. "Oh! You mean Prance!"

"What? No. France."

"Are you sure? That sounds made-up."

"Yes, I am quite confident I know the name of my place of birth! I was born in France, I grew up in France, I am a Frenchman! Next question, pl-"

"Prenchman."

He glowered at her. "I'm going back to sleep."

Cozy Glow pouted as if he was taking away a favorite toy, and clutched desperately at the bars of her cage. With hooves. Somehow. "Nooooo! I'll be good, I promise!"

"...very well. Next question." Spy wanted to keep this going, regardless. He felt he needed only one more angle...

"You're doing great with the whole walking thing, by the way! Just pick up your hooves a bit more." As he grudgingly took her advice (which did seem to help) , she added, "That reminds me. It's not really about your other world, but you kind of freaked out when you first woke up in that body, and now you're coping really well! How did you manage to adapt to a strange situation so fast?"

He paused and stared at her blankly, considering her question.

(...there he was, preparing to defend a rustic Bavarian village against a relentless tide of robot mercenaries literally fueled by money...)

(...there he was, helping the Scout court his would-be girlfriend in the middle of a battle against a giant bread monster...)

(...there he was, pushing the corpse of an old man into a gateway to Hell as spells flew through the air, skeleton armies advanced and pumpkins exploded...)

(...there he was, sharing a locker room with a Pyro...)

"...practice," he said finally.

"Oh. Okay." Cozy Glow looked puzzled, but let it go. "Just one more question, then. What was that whole thing last night about me being sent to..." She hesitated, then forced herself to say the word. "...kill you?"

Spy hesitated as well. It was theoretically a risk, but only theoretically. The deed was done, and the chance of a pony from another dimension making it worse was barely worth considering.

And... yes. He could use this, couldn't he...?

"Well..." he began, his mind racing, "...I... suppose I can tell you. But it's... embarrassing. Shameful, in fact."

This perked her ears up, literally. "Really? Coming from you, that sounds..."

"Yes, yes, I know. What use has an assassin for shame? But what I have done sickens even me! It was..." He looked away, the picture of regret. "...inexcusable."

Curiosity and dread waged war in Cozy Glow's mind. "Wh... what did you do?"

He released the bars of his cage and stood unsupported. He swayed and wobbled, but remained standing, then raised one hand dramatically to the sky, or at least the ceiling. "I did the one thing I was never to do! A sin against team and employer! For I..." And he clutched his hands to his chest, curling them into anguished fists. "...opened a briefcase!"

Spy held this pose for a few moments, then risked a glance at the pegasus. He may have overacted a bit there, but... no, Cozy Glow seemed to have taken his performance at face value. Either she wasn't old enough to tell the difference, or that kind of histrionics was par for the course in this ridiculous world. "You opened a briefcase?!" she asked, utterly flabbergasted (a word that Spy was genuinely embarrassed to even think of.) "That's the big secret that-"

"Ah, but this was no ordinary briefcase. It was filled to overflowing with valuable intelligence." He raised a finger as she opened her mouth. "And by that I mean gathered information of a sensitive or classified nature. Documents, schematics, photographs, recordings. that sort of thing. We were often sent to take one from our enemies, or protect ours from them." His brow furrowed briefly. "...Usually both at the same time, now that I think of it."

The flabber of Cozy Glow remained gasted. "Golly, Mister Spy, I still don't understand! What could possibly be in them that was so valuable?"

He dearly wished he had a smoke. It would look so wonderfully noir to take a drag before responding. "Secrets to die for. Secrets to kill for. Like a beautiful woman, the briefcases were mysterious... enticing... and always the center of attention. Those who possess her would do anything to keep her, and those who do not would move the heavens themselves to steal her away!"

"...her?" The pegasus was giving him an odd look.

Spy suddenly realized he'd gotten caught up in the moment, and coughed awkwardly. "It. But yes, that was my question as well. How could one piece of business accoutrement be worth the lives of so many? The mystery gnawed at my very soul for years, until I finally gave in to its siren call. I had to find out! So last night..." He looked around at the perpetually lit cavern. "...probably last night... I did the unthinkable: while my team was otherwise occupied, I took the briefcase from our own intelligence room and stole away with it, sneaking it into an area beyond the battlefield where my employer's watchful eyes could not follow."

He waited, but there was no response. Good. He had her rapt attention. "It was a matter of moments to remove the various security measures on the briefcase... though it would seem I missed at least one of them. At any rate, I opened the case, and was free to examine its contents. And oh, what treasures I found within!" He turned away from Cozy Glow and gripped the bars of his cage, appearing to be lost in reminiscence.

"What, um... what did you find?" Her tone of voice was that of honest and polite curiosity, but again there was an edge to it, an eagerness. Spy had no experience with the alleged sport known as 'fishing', but he felt he could imagine himself as an angler, watching the still surface of a pond and occasionally seeing a flash of movement below. That eagerness was a ripple on the surface.

What are you hiding, Miss Glow? Spy needed to break through her childish facade, but what would interest Cozy Glow enough to do the job? Power, yes, and she was keenly interested in reward... but any two-bit thug wanted power and reward, and he felt that the child's ambitions ran deeper than that. He didn't know her past, and anything she told him would be suspect, so no help guessing at motives there. Even so... from her telling of it, the world beyond Tartarus was full of light and hope and other saccharine nonsense; a storybook world. Why would a place like that condemn a child to a maximum security prison?

...why indeed, if not because she had threatened the very foundation of their innocence? And she had been nattering on about it, hadn't she?

He had his bait.

"The documents on top represented a staggering amount of valuable information," he began, still turned away from her, "but I knew they had to be just a distraction from something far greater. Military secrets? So much dross. Blackmail material on a world leader? Laughable. Plans for a weapon of international destruction?" He snorted. "Not even worth my time."

"Gosh," she said, and sounded like she meant it. "Those all sound super important." Another ripple; larger this time, but still just a ripple.

"Indeed, but there had to be something more. And in a hidden compartment, I found it: a fortified case containing a single tiny vial of one of the most precious substances on my world, one that could topple kingdoms and sway entire civilizations, known as..." He paused for effect. "...amitié liquide."

"Ooooooh." An even larger ripple, with a suggestion of fin. "If I remember my filly school lessons on Prench-"

"French."

"-then that translates to..."

"Precisely. Liquid friendship. A pheromonic compound with frightening coercive powers, each drop the concentrated life essence of a single confidence trickster, demagouge or boy band member, ground upon the Blarney Stone itself. Drinking it would bestow the ability to utterly convince anyone you spoke to that you were now - and had always been, and would always be - their friend."

Before she managed to stifle it, the sound Cozy Glow made was one of indescribable glee. The ripples were moving swiftly toward his lure.

"Just think of it," Spy said, pretending to be unaware of her outburst. "One sip, and you could convert thousands - millions - to your cause. You would be the boss of your own private army, all of them absolutely loyal and incorruptible. Your every wish... no, your every whim would be granted!"

"Oh," she said, and he imagined he could hear the sound of hooves being rubbed together, "I'm thinking of it."

"I knew immediately that this was a prize worth more than any amount of money. It could make one a senator... a president! A monarch!"

"An Empress!"

...really, now? "An Empress," he agreed. "So I took the vial..."

"Yes..."

"...raised it high..."

"Yes..."

"...and put it back in the briefcase," Spy concluded, turning back toward her and giving the metaphorical fishing rod a good hard yank.

"YEEESSS-" She halted, her jaw dropping open. "Wait, what?"

"I put it back."

"...you what?!"

He tilted his head slightly and wore an expression of artfully crafted puzzlement. "I'm sorry, do I need to speak more loudly, or...?"

"But, but, but..." It took a moment for Cozy Glow to regain the power of coherent speech. "...but you had it! The key to, to everything! Anything you could have ever wanted! And you put it BACK?!"

He shrugged. "The only reason I stole the briefcase was to find out what it contained. My curiosity was sated, so I planned to return it. I was never going to use the contents for personal gain. That would be highly dishonorable. Not to mention gauche."

"Dishonorable?!" He could hear the fury rising in her voice. "What is wrong with you?! Who cares about honor when you could have it all?!"

"Why, Miss Glow," Spy said in a hurt tone, placing a hand over his heart... or where his own heart should have been; who knew where a centaur's heart was kept? "What kind of man do you take me for?"

"I TAKE YOU FOR AN IDIOT! Do you have any idea what I could have done with something like that?!"

"...do tell," he murmured, leaning closer.

She wasn't even listening, having slipped into full monologue. "Forget the School of Friendship! Forget pandering to Twilight Sparkle and all the little brats she teaches! I could have gone straight to Canterlot itself and made the Princesses into my closest friends and servants! With their help, I could have extended my reach to every corner of Equestria, maybe even beyond! I could have made every creature in the world MY BEST FRIEND! And then nobody could stop me! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Spy said nothing, simply waiting through the laughter.

"You know," Cozy Glow said finally, a sneer in her voice, "it's funny! For a minute there I was starting to think you had an actual brain! That you were this smooth operator that did whatever it took to get ahead. But now it turns out that you're... just... another...?"

Her words trailed off as she noticed a shadow being cast upon her. She looked up, and recoiled in surprise at the sight of...

"Another what?" Spy asked, in a soft, low voice dripping with menace.

...the all-too familiar - and far too close - face of Tirek, which was now, she suddenly realized, inhabited by an otherworldly creature that bragged about its love of bloody violence... and that could easily reach her through the bars of her cage.

She clapped her hooves to her mouth in shock. Even worse, she had shown him her real self...

He stared down at her for long seconds... and then he smiled a wicked smile, and somehow the prospect of violence was less frightening than the gleam of razor-sharp intellect behind Tirek's normally brutish eyes. "Ah," he breathed. "There you are." He extended a clawed hand toward her, and she flinched... but it stopped just outside her cage. "So pleased to finally meet you... Miss. Cozy. Glow."

She tried her best to salvage the situation, but every 'Gosh!' and 'Golly!' withered to dust before that knowing gaze. There was no escape, no chance for recovery. Finally she gave up and, with bad grace, shook his hand. "Likewise, I'm sure," she grumbled.

He chuckled and returned to his own cage, pulling his upper body back through the bars.

"There's no such thing as liquid friendship, is there?" she asked dully.

"Not in the slightest," he confirmed, still smiling.

"You lied to me. You made the whole thing up just to string me along and get me to show my true colors." Cozy Glow deflated a bit. "And I fell for it."

"Oh, don't feel too bad," Spy said. "I admit, you are a talented amateur in the art of deception; extremely talented, I should say, and I can't imagine you've had much in the way of skilled opposition to hone your natural guile. I, on the other hand, have been at this for decades, and being able to deceive my enemies is literally the difference between life and death. Theirs, as well as mine." The smugness redoubled. "You never stood a chance."

"Well, aren't you just so smart, tricking a poor innocent filly!" she snapped, stung by embarrassment.

"Yes, I am, but that's not the point here." He sat, the movements coming easier now. "Because you aren't just a poor innocent filly, are you? Poor innocent fillies don't talk about world domination and end up in cages, Miss Glow."

She whirled around, refusing to look at him. "Hmph! I don't have to explain myself to you!"

"Of course not," he said soothingly. "But since we don't have much else to do at the moment, I would like to hear about how you ended up in here. More to the point, I want to know what you had planned, and where you think it went wrong."

Cozy Glow continued to look away for several seconds... then turned her head slightly. "You... want to hear about my plan?"

"Well. I could do without the broader picture. I'm not very interested in the part where you found the secret MacGuffin Muffin, boarded the Happiness Schooner and took a magical trip to the Land of Candyfloss, or something equally inane. Just tell me the... technical details."

She hesitated, hoof poised to continue her turn... then abruptly looked away again. "Oh, no! You're just trying to trick me again! You want me to give away all my secrets!"

"...yes, that is literally what I just asked you to do."

"You're just a big ol' phony!"

"Again, yes, I have already admitted to this. Why is this all coming as a surprise to you?" He paused, then changed tactics. It was an obvious ploy, but sometimes the obvious ones worked best. "Of course, if you don't think your plan was interesting enough to talk about..."

She stopped in mid-pout, and actually quivered in place as spite was put under siege by pride. Spy didn't worry about the outcome; this one was a talker. "Well..." she said finally, "...if you really want to know..."

"I await your tale with bated breath," he assured her.

Cozy Glow turned, and was actually blushing slightly. "Gosh... Tirek never wanted to hear about my plan." The blush faded, and her expression turned to one of sharp-edged smugness. "I'll tell you one thing up front, Mister Spy: my plan was perfect."

He slowly looked around, taking in the whole of Tartarus. "Really."

"No. You don't get it, Spy." She took to the air, hovering as close to him as her cage would allow. "I had everything covered. I had been putting it into action for moons.

"And I was winning.

"You want the short version? Fine. All you need to know is that I had to get my hooves on six historical relics to complete the ritual Tirek gave me. Each of them was held by a different creature race, and none of them trust each other all that much. I'm really good at convincing people to help me, but not even ponies would let some kid walk away with a national treasure, much less dragons or griffons. To get away with something like that, you'd have to be someone super important, like a hero... or a Princess. And it just so happened that Princess Twilight Sparkle had just opened her School of Friendship, and even admitted non-pony races as students.

"I knew exactly what I needed to do."

"After getting myself enrolled, I got into Twilight's good graces by pretending to be some dumb filly with really bad judgement. I played on her sympathies, getting her to trust me by working so hard to make up for my mistakes, until I had the run of her office. I still couldn't ask for the relics myself, though, so I had to somehow make her do it. Unfortunately she's a huge book nerd, and thinks that an encyclopedia entry is as good as the real thing! I had to convince her that requesting the relics themselves were in her best interest. But why would she need them? What could they give a brand-new facility that the school board had already tried to shut down, and that the non-pony leaders still didn't fully trust?"

Despite himself, Spy was caught up in Cozy Glow's explanation, and considered the situation for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Legitimacy."

"Exactly!" she replied with a smirk. "So I sent a copy of the school's coursebook to the EEA - the Equestria Education Association - with an anonymous suggestion that maybe they could use it to start a competing school." Cozy Glow sniffed. "Their school bombed because they let a couple of two-bit grifters run it, but that didn't matter. Twilight now realized her students could be lured away, and after I dropped a few innocent suggestions, she asked to host the relics at the School, to provide a better learning experience while showing respect to the various leaders at the same time. Then she had a... scavenger hunt, for some reason, but after that I could grab them whenever I wanted.

"All that was left was to find a hidden place where nopony would go so I could set up the ritual, and surprise, there were massive caves and tunnels under the school! I just had to convince the students who found them not to tell the faculty about them, and then I was all set."

Spy was impressed. The filly could be exaggerating and he couldn't know all the details, but even so this sounded like a long and nuanced plan that she had executed with remarkable patience and precision for someone her age. "Fascinating. So... what went wrong?"

"NOTHING!" She gripped the bars of her cell in a sudden rage. "Didn't you hear me? My plan was perfect! Once I started the ritual, magic began to drain from Equestria, and they only had three days to stop it! I sent Twilight and her friends on a wild goose chase here to Tartarus, so they were out of the picture. Celestia and Luna? Powerless! I kicked Starlight Glimmer into the ritual when she would have gotten in my way, and even deposed the head of the EEA when he tried to do the same! Every student at the school was either locked up, trapped, or under my control! I was within seconds of seeing every last drop of magic vanish from Equestria forever! I had won!"

"So... what happened?" he asked softly.

She bowed her head for a moment, motionless, then threw her head back and screamed to the heavens: "I WAS BLOCKED AT THE LAST MOMENT BY THE STUPID TREEEEEE!"

Spy had no idea what she was talking about, but watching her try to catch her breath, tears of frustration in her eyes, perhaps he didn't need to. "Ah. Defeated by a deus ex machina. I know that feeling well."

Cozy Glow looked up at him, blinking. "You... you do?" she quavered.

"Oh, yes," he said, with heartfelt bitterness. "I couldn't even begin to tell you how many times my own plans have been foiled by sheer happenstance. An accidental jostle in a corridor... a target turning to the side at the last moment... a completely accidental and unnecessary puff of flame..." Again, he felt the deep and desperate need for a smoke. "One of the least pleasant parts of my job is the realization that dumb luck can counter any amount of skill and foresight."

She sniffled, once. "How do you deal with it?"

Spy shrugged. "You take your lumps, and learn from them. As long as you still draw breath, you can resolve to do even better the next time. It's a bit trite, but when luck is your enemy, keep in mind that your target has to be lucky every time you strike, while you only have to be lucky once."

"Y... yeah. Thanks, Mister Spy." She rubbed at her eyes with a foreleg, then landed. "Anyway. That's my big embarrassing plan. I failed miserably and ended up in here." Cozy Glow sniffled again. "Hope you're happy."

"Hm. I have little use for happiness, but I am... satisfied, yes."

She frowned, suddenly annoyed. "Well, good for you."

Spy chuckled. "Oh, no, Miss Glow. Good... for us."

The pegasus stared at him. "...huh?"

He stood and started pacing his cage again, without aid or support. "If you had just been the feckless child you had pretended to be, I would have had to come up with a plan all by myself. If you were an unthinking megalomaniac, I would have just left you here. But I am impressed by your mind, Miss Glow, and would appreciate your assistance."

Cozy Glow continued to stare. "What assistance? What plan? What are you talking about?"

"Isn't it obvious? An escape plan! You and I are going to break out of this dreary nightmare of a prison."

The stare turned into a gape. "Escape from Tartarus?! That's impossible!"

"Nonsense. You said yourself this 'Tirek' escaped not long ago."

"Yeah, after being trapped for a thousand years!"

"Well, I don't have that much time," Spy said dismissively, "so we'll just have to be a bit faster. Besides, wasn't an escape attempt the reason I'm here in the first place?"

"And look how that turned out! Tirek only tried it because they added a bunch more security measures since the last time he got out; he couldn't figure out a way past them!"

"Ah," Spy said, leaning down toward her with a broad smile, "but he is not us. Those defenses were put in place to keep in one senile centaur, not a pair of exceptional minds like ours. I am fully confident we can work out a way past, around, or simply through them... if I have your support." He held out his hand again. "What do you say, Miss Glow? Partners?"

She sat down and crossed her forelegs in thought. Spy could all but see the wheels turning in her head as she considered all the options. Finally she looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "You really think we can do it?"

"Two people like us stuck in separate cages, without tools or supplies, against ill-defined magical defenses? How could we lose?" Seeing her expression, he toned down the gallows humor. "From what you've told me, Miss Glow," he said, adding 'and my own experience' in the silence of his mind, "I am not particularly worried about being able to out-think the people... that is, ponies of this world. And even if we fail, what harm could it do?" He gestured at the cavern around them. "How much worse could it get?"

"That's... a good point," she admitted. She regarded his hand for a long moment, then placed her hoof in it. "Partners, Mister Spy. Though I'd rather think of us as friends!"

He made a face. "Friendship is... not encouraged in my line of work. Partners will do." He shook her hoof.

"Oh. Okay, then. Still, this may all be for nothing. I bet Tirek will open that rift right back up any time now!"

"Ah. Yes. Well. Perhaps we shouldn't... rely on that possibility too much."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Spy hesitated, then sighed. "I suppose I should tell you... you see, my tale from earlier was only slightly false. I didn't find the amitié liquide, but I did open the briefcase, and the consequences for that are exactly as dire as I suggested. I was knocked out by a trap, then found myself here; it follows logically that Tirek projected himself into my unconscious body, lying next to an opened case. Anyone who found him would surely put two and two together, and there would definitely be someone looking for him."

She covered her mouth. "You mean...?"

"I'm afraid so. There will be no help coming from that quarter. Your Tirek is almost certainly dead."

On the outskirts of the city of Teufort, there were two buildings of suspiciously similar design. One was red, built primarily of weathered wood, the other blue and built of concrete and corrugated steel. The two buildings were separated by little more than a pit filled partly with stagnant water; this was spanned by a too-narrow covered bridge. A distinctive odor hung over the place, of gunpowder, cheap whiskey, machine oil, cigarette smoke, and a not insignificant trace of urine... but mostly of blood. So, so much blood.

The air was silent for once, and there was no sign of the usual combatants... except one.

Lean, athletic, and dapperly dressed in a custom tailored suit of washed-out red (the technical name for the color was Copper Rose), he stood near one end of the covered bridge and stared at the blue base on the other side.

He had his target, and he would acquire it, no matter the cost. Nothing would get in his way.

He took one step forward, forgot how many legs he had, tripped, and fell in the moat.

Author's Note

I thought this chapter was going to be relatively short. It disagreed.

And yeah. You know where this is going next.

MEET THE SPYTAUR

Alarm bells rang throughout the base, and the BLU Soldier gripped the security console with sweaty hands, staring up at the display in a desperate attempt to get it to divulge its secrets. Amid the rows and rows of darkened signs, only three were lit: the first read 'INTRUDER ALERT', the second said 'RED SPY', and on the third was written 'IN BASE'.

But... what could it mean?!

Curse this fiendish, inscrutable device! It had obviously been designed by Communists or, even worse, Liberal Arts Majors! How was an average red-blooded leatherneck supposed to wrap his strong American freedom brain around such a cryptic code? He hadn't fought in multiple wars (not officially, but as a conscientious assenter) just to be stymied by the foundations of sentence construction!

"Intruder alert!" The familiar rough, female voice echoed over the loudspeaker system "A RED Spy is in the base!" He tried to tone it out; all this noise was ruining his concentration!

...wait! That message... could it hold a subtle clue? His grip intensified until his knuckles turned white as he tried to process the horrific, impossible secrets laid out before him.

No... it couldn't be true! "A RED Spy is in the base?!"

He turned and hurried down the stairs toward the intelligence room, trusty shotgun in hand. "Protect the briefcase!" directed the loudspeaker, as though to make sure the Soldier didn't forget what he was doing.

Thanks, voice in my head! "We need to protect the briefcase!"

"You there! Inferior creature!" Soldier turned to see the BLU Scout wrestling with the door to the intelligence. "Open this door for me immediately. I command it!"

Somewhere between Soldier's ears and his brain (which was a surprisingly long trip), those words turned into 'Please help me, Soldier! I'm actually an otter in a human suit, and cannot do things for myself!' and he scowled at the smaller man. "This is no time for lollygagging, Scout! Don't you realize there's a RED Spy in the base?!"

"There is still a RED Spy in the base," the loudspeaker announced pointedly.

"My God, there's two of them!"

The apparent Scout raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Lollygagging? Of course I know there's..." He stopped and looked down at his slim, wiry and blue-clad form. "...oh! So it does... Hm-hmm, yeeeesss! Subterfuge." He tittered and tapped his fingertips together fiendishly. "How delightful. Ahem! Yes. I am this... 'Scout' of which you speak."

Despite the circumstances, Soldier couldn't help but laugh at his teammate's juvenile antics. "Hah! You sure are!" He pushed the obvious Scout aside. "All right, I got it. Stand back, son."

As he carefully entered the keypad's intricate code, the Scout processed this statement. "Oh. All right..."

"One, one, one..."

"...um... dad."

This was odd enough to cut through Soldier's perpetual fog of patriotism, tinnitus and self-inflicted concussions. His finger stopped in mid-air, and he peered suspiciously at the certainly Scout from beneath his helmet. "...one," he said finally, pushing the well-worn button without taking his eyes off his teammate. Something seemed fishy here, and that was apart from the fact that Scout smelled of moat water...

Scout suddenly frowned. "Do you feel an earthquake?"

"IIIINCOOOOMIIIIING!"

They turned to see the team's Heavy barrelling toward them in an unstoppable run, a textbook example of inertia as it applies to meat. There was no room to dodge, no time to evade; bellowing defiance, the Heavy smashed through the unlocked door, carrying them along with him. His precious minigun whirred in readiness as he looked around in search of a target. "YAAAAAAAAA...!"

The heavily battered Scout found himself at the edge of the room's single desk, and as he picked himself up he looked at the large rectangular object under his hand. "Wha... oh! This must be it!"

"...AAAAaaaaaall right, then."

"Ahem." The discreet clearing of the throat and the crunch of fine shoe leather on glass caught everyone's attention. "Gentlemen?" The teammates watched as the BLU Spy carefully entered the room, carrying a body on one shoulder. For some reason, the Scout stared particularly keenly at the man. "I see the briefcase is safe?"

"Safe and sound," Soldier agreed.

"You know, it could be safer," suggested the actual Scout. "Perhaps I should take it to a place more-"

"Tell me," Spy said, ignoring this. "Did anyone happen to kill a RED Spy on the way here?" He looked around at their shrugs and noncommittal expressions. "No? Then we still have a problem," he concluded darkly, dumping the corpse of the BLU Sniper on the desk.

"And a knife," the Soldier observed, noticing the weapon lodged in the Sniper's back.

Thinking fast, the Scout retrieved the knife and fumbled with it for a moment. "You know," he said finally, "perhaps I did, er... dispose of a Spy earlier. He seemed completely unimportant and not worth looking for, so I barely remember him. I... think he looked rather like m-" Scout stopped himself quickly, accidentally cutting himself in the sudden hesitation. "Ow! ...like you?"

With a condescending smile, Spy took the butterfly knife away from the Scout, folded it with well-practiced motions, and handed it back. "If you managed to kill him," Spy said, "I assure you, he was not like me." He stepped away from the group, pacing self-importantly. "And nothing... nothing like the man loose inside this building!"

The Heavy and Soldier looked at each other in alarm, and the definite Scout tried to defuse the situation. "Oh, you're exaggerating," he scoffed. "Is this creature really that impressive?"

Spy stopped and whirled, suddenly invading his teammate's personal space. "I don't know, Scout," he said with exaggerated politeness. "Perhaps we should ask... your mother!"

He raised a dossier high, then threw it on the desk (which, considering the briefcase and corpse already there, was getting rather crowded.) Photos spilled from a folder reading 'TOP SECRET - SCOUT'S MOM', and on the photos were...

Scout's brow furrowed as he looked at them. "What... are these?" he muttered. "They're so... hairless. Wait... are they... doing what I think they're...?" His eyes grew wide when he realized that yes, yes they were. "Euuugh!" he exclaimed. "How revolting!"

"Indeed. And now he's here to buck us!" the Spy said, or at least the Scout thought the Spy said. The assassin struck his teammate's arm roughly, but not forcefully. "So listen up, boy! Or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing that happens to you today."

"Pone... what?" Scout asked, mystified. Behind him, he heard Soldier's intrigued "Oh!". He whirled around, quickly snatching up the photo in the larger man's hand. "Don't look, father!"

The Spy took a drag from a freshly lit cigarette. "This Spy has already breached our defenses. Earlier, I found the body of the Engineer... or what was left of it."

Scout's brow furrowed. "...who?"

"No!" Soldier gasped. "Not the hardhat!"

"...oh, him." The Scout looked distinctly pale and nauseated.

"He was good man," rumbled the Heavy sadly. "Very dedicated."

Soldier nodded briskly. "You're damn right. Once he had his sentry set up, you couldn't move him with an entrenching tool and high explosives! And I should know! Why, he was so focused, he would never even turn around, no matter what was happening around him! That's how you know he was a real Engie. Turtle up until you die, that's their motto!"

"I will miss the way he would set up at last control point as soon as battle started, no matter how much we needed teleporters. Was great reassurance knowing that when enemy pushed through our lines due to lack of supplies and reinforcements, he would be there for us."

"Well, now he'll be there for us at the Pearly Gates!" snarled the Spy. "And hopefully they have buckets, because he was blown to pieces by his own sentry!"

"Oh, please," the Scout scoffed. "That wasn't the RED Spy's fault." The others looked at him curiously; he hesitated, then plunged on. "That is to say... how could he have even done something like that? Is this, er, 'sentry device' so easy to control? What kind of spell did he use?"

The Soldier and Heavy chuckled at this (which confused the Scout), but the BLU Spy waved this off. "Some kind of fiendish new gadget, I assume." He paused, and gave his teammate a closer inspection. "...unless you have a better explanation, Scout?"

"...er..."

"You there!" The RED Spy stepped into the BLU base through the doorway leading to the sewer, still dripping with moat water. "I order you to lead me to this 'intelligence' immediately!"

"Whut? Nothin' doin', Spy," the Engineer grunted, hammering a final component into position. His back was to the Spy, which made Spy's right hand itch for some reason. "I got my sentry in front of me and my dispenser behind me, and I ain't movin' for nothin' until that RED Spy gets-"

The sentry lurched as it abruptly sprouted bigger guns and rocket launchers. It chirped three times... then twice more, urgently, and swiftly pivoted 180 degrees. The Engineer stared at it, then looked over his shoulder just far enough to see a glimpse of red. "...darn," he said, which as final words go was pretty unimpressive.

A sudden instinct made the Spy drop for cover behind the glowing blue box in front of him, and he stayed huddled there as the sentry unleashed a storm of destruction in his direction. Blood and various body parts rained down around him, and a kidney bounced off his shoulder, adding a bit more redness to the fabric. Eventually the sentry would run out of ammunition, but until then the Spy was content to sit there hugging his knees, trying to ignore the soft patter of exsanguination.

The Scout spread his hands helplessly. "...it was an accident, maybe?"

"...an accident?" the Spy asked incredulously. He gestured at the corpse on the desk. "You see what he's done to our colleague! Was that an accident as well?!"

"Ow! Piss off!"

"Look, I'm not being unreasonable here," the RED Spy said sternly. "I just need you to stop doing... whatever it is you think you're doing, and take me to where the briefcase is."

"And I'm tellin' you to piss off!" the BLU Sniper shot back, metaphorically speaking. "I ain't goin' on patrol with you right now. I'm waitin' for our target to pop his bloomin' head out."

The Spy peered across the battlefield, where the RED base battlements were completely empty. "...there's nobody there."

"Oh, he'll show," Sniper said with a chuckle. "He'll show. And when he does... that's all she wrote. Ow!"

"And... you're just going to stay here, staring through your... pipe... thing until he does?"

"Too right. Ow! So I'd appreciate it," the Sniper concluded angrily, "if you'd stop punching my bloody back, you tosser!"

"Oh. Yes. Fair enough. Not sure what's wrong with my arm," the Spy added, trying to get the offending limb under control. "Seeing you there, crouched down and motionless, seems to really make it want to do that."

The Sniper snorted in derision. "Could you try to keep yer backstabbin' impulses to yourself? At least until you're out of arm's reach?"

"...yes, yes, have it your way." He forced his hand down to his side, and took a moment to feel the breeze. "It's... nice up here," he said in a rare moment of introspection. It had been a while since he'd been out in the open like this.

"...heh. Yeah," the Sniper agreed. "All the better without you lightin' up one of your smokes, right? Word to the wise."

At the word 'smoke', the Spy's hand leapt into his suit's inner pocket and pulled out a flat metal case. He scowled down at it and forced it back. He'd noticed the case earlier; half of it was mysterious, and the other was a storage space for small white cylinders that smelled bad yet enticing and tasted just awful. He didn't see the point. "Er, yes."

Its deeply ingrained muscle memory frustrated, the Spy's hand slipped into another pocket and gripped what it found there, waiting for an opportunity.

"Look, mate," said the Sniper with a sigh, "much as I cherish this little moment, we've both got a job to do, yeah?"

"Do we? I mean... yes, of course." The Spy gave up, and looked around absently. "Is there anyone else that could help me? Preferably," he added with a shudder, "someone who isn't standing next to a large and deadly explosion machine?"

"Well, there's-"

"Achtung! SPY!"

The Spy and Sniper looked up at the far end of the battlements, where a tall figure in a lab coat was pointing an accusatory finger in their direction. "Ze Spy is a double agent!" he shouted.

Sniper's eyes widened. "You what-?"

But the distraction had been enough. Even as the RED Spy stared in surprise at the BLU Medic, wondering why he seemed so agitated, his arm had gone up, and his arm had gone down.

The Sniper's scream snapped him out of his confusion, and he looked down at the knife in the bushman's back. "What the...? How did...? Did I...?!" He lifted his hand and glared at it. "Why did you do that?!"

Then the Medic raised his bonesaw and charged with a ferocious cry of "Raus! RAUS!" Seeing the gangly figure bearing down on him, with not even a knife to protect himself, the Spy lost his nerve, and fled back into the building. "Don't run!" the Medic mock-pleaded. "I can find a use for all of your internal organs!"

"...more of a... reflex, than an accident," the Scout said finally. "Possibly."

The Spy swung an arm backwards and slammed a fist against the large glass window that formed one wall of the intel room. "Scout, this is serious! We cannot underestimate this Spy! He is cunning! He is ruthless! And worst of all.. he could be any one of-"

"Oh, and that fellow in the long coat fell down some stairs. Hypothetically, of course."

It wasn't often that the Spy was completely derailed in mid-drama. "...what?"

He just... fell down the stairs.

The Spy peered down the stairwell at the shadowed lump at the bottom. He'd fled screaming - that is, he'd escaped while maintaining proper composure, yes - and had ducked into what had seemed to be some kind of shed overlooking the base's inner courtyard. He had only barely avoided falling down the long, long stairway just inside, and during the moment he was regaining his balance, the Medic had come charging after him, all thoughts of personal safety completely banished from his mind. They had collided, there was a complicated yet reflexive interaction of limbs and grips, and the Medic... just... fell. And still he laughed, a being gloriously freed from every incessant demand of his teammates, until the laughter stopped.

He regarded the corpse a moment longer, then snorted. Seeing another creature perish didn't bother him much - especially not compared to what had happened to the one in the hardhat - and this was almost certainly self-defense. So falls (literally) whoever dares threaten... whoever he happened to be currently! He still wasn't completely clear on that, but with any luck that wouldn't matter for long.

The Spy sighed and slouched against the wall. "This is intolerable," he groused. "All I want is a stupid briefcase! Why is every creature here being so difficult about it? Don't they recognize royalty when they see it?"

And then he frowned. "Though come to think of it... the first two never actually looked at me, did they? And the third attacked as soon as he saw me." He looked down at himself. "...is it simply because of these garments? Do they hate me because I'm wearing a better color? I almost feel offended. Well, I can see there needs to be some significant changes once I conquer this miserable world! Everyone will be red! See how they like that! HAH!" He hesitated. "Wait, no, they probably would like that. New plan! Nobody gets to be red but me! Hah HAH!"

He basked in his gloriously evil scheme for a moment, then the moment passed. "...nevertheless, I still need that intelligence. Not that anyone here has displayed any," he added, certain that a joke of such high caliber had never been used before. "But I'd rather not get attacked again. If the color I'm wearing is the issue, perhaps there is a way to change that... And put that away, you ridiculous thing!"

This was directed at his own hand, which had pulled out the metal case once again. "I don't need that!" he shouted at it. "I don't know what those things are for! I'm not even hungry! Get it out of my sight!" He slapped at it with the back of his other hand...

...and red mist boiled out of the thing, covering him from head to toe before he could blink. When it faded, however, nothing seemed to have changed.

"Well, that was unex-" The Spy stopped, puzzled, and rubbed his throat. "I sound... different. Almost like..." He glanced at the stairwell for a moment, then took a breath. "Ze Spy is a double agent!" He blinked. "Yes, exactly like him. But how..."

He peered down at the case again, and saw that the previously blank piece of glass now displayed the words: 'CURRENT DISGUISE: BLU MEDIC'

"...interesting. Some kind of changeling spell?" He tried pushing more buttons, causing more waves of red vapor to flow out of the device. Close examination revealed that when the mist dissipated, some of it remained as a kind of second skin, following his every movement. He could easily see through it, however.

"Hmph. Not much of a disguise if it only changes my voice." He snapped the case shut and put it away. "Though this one sounds younger. Perhaps they'll think I'm one of their young and won't attack so readily. Now all I need to do is find the wretched intelligence. And I have no idea where to-"

He stopped and looked slightly upward. There was a large blue sign just a few hooflengths in front of him, with the word 'INTELLIGENCE' written on it. An arrow helpfully pointed down the stairwell.

"...oh. Good. Very well, then."

"Scout, what did you do to the Medic?!"

"I did nothing!" the Scout protested. "He fell down the stairs! It was a tragic accident that he absolutely didn't deserve!" He looked at the other two in the room. "You... fellows know how clumsy he always was, don't you?"

"Yes!" the Soldier agreed immediately. "I have no specific recollection of his clumsiness, but you are saying it so there is a good chance I will believe it!" For his part, the Heavy seemed unconvinced, but not to the point of disagreement.

"He was a surgeon!" Spy growled. "They are not known for-"

"I'm gonna miss ol' Fumblefingers," Soldier mused sadly.

"Me too, father. Me too."

A muscle twitched under the Spy's eye. "Don't you idiots realize how close we are to death right now?! You're jabbering on when..." He stopped suddenly, and his eyes narrowed. "...when we have already been infiltrated by a master of disguise."

The Heavy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the Spy is far too clever to simply wait for us to find him. At this moment, he could be getting ready to strike! He could be in this very room!" He prodded the Heavy in the chest. "He could be you! He could be me!"

And then, in one swift movement, he drew his revolver and aimed it at the Scout's head. "But he is definitely... you."

The Scout didn't even glance at it. "Me? Why... I can assure you...!"

"Oh, please. The Scout doesn't use words like 'fellows' or 'hypothetically', or 'assure' for that matter. And he definitely knows the word 'pornography'." The Spy smirked. "Perhaps I was the one who misjudged your capabilities. In any case, I believe this charade has gone on long enough. Au revoir, my incompetent friend." His trigger finger tightened, there was a thunderous explosion...

...and the BLU Spy fell to the ground, which often happens when one's head is obliterated by a double helping of buckshot.

The Scout and Heavy recoiled with exclamations of shock and surprise, and the Soldier simply pumped the forend (look it up) of his shotgun. "What? It was obvious! He's the RED Spy!"

"But... how did you know?" the Heavy asked, confused.

"Oh, come on. Why would anyone want to even pretend to be a Scout?"

"...da. Is good point."

As the other two approached the body, the Scout was still reeling from the display of gore he had just witnessed... though not for reasons a normal person would expect.

"...those... pipes everyone keeps pointing at me," he murmured finally. "They can do that?! By my horns, this entire world is insane! I'd call it utter chaos, but not even he could understand these vicious little beasts!"

"Watch," the Soldier said, as he and the Heavy crouched over the Spy. "He'll turn red any second now!"

The Scout's eyes fell on the folded knife in his hand. Unbidden, his muscles moved of their own accord and opened the weapon in a smooth, mesmerizing display of reflected light. Then he looked at the intelligence sitting innocently on the desk, its handle inviting a hand to grip it.

He smiled a thin smile. "...well. If that's how things are done here, far be it from me to flout local culture. If I want that briefcase, apparently it must be taken by force. In that case, so be it. I'll play your game, you miserable creatures."

".....aaaaaaannny second now."

He held his weapon of choice tightly and advanced on the pair. "After all, you know what they say..."

"See? Red!" The Soldier hesitated. "No, wait. That's blood."

"...when in the Crystal Empire..."

"So," the Heavy said grimly. "We still got problem."

"...do as the crystal ponies do!"

"Big problem," the Soldier admitted. "C'mon, Scout, stop muttering to yourself over there. We've gotta go find this Spy."

The red vapor surrounding his body chose that moment to dissipate, and the RED spy stood over them, weapon held high. "Don't worry," he all but purred. "I'm right behind you."

The two BLU mercenaries had only a moment to act before the Spy, gripping the heavy iron-plated briefcase in both hands, brought it down on their heads.

Whack!

"Ow! My duodenum!"

Thunk!

"Sandvich! I need sandvich!"

Crunch!

"Hold still!"

Bash!

"You are so bad at this!"

WhapwhapwhapwhapTHUD!

"I'm sorry! I'm new!"

After catching his breath and wiping the gore from his face, the Spy did not carefully retrieve one of the photographs, all of which had been ruined at this point in any case. There had been a lot of... splatter. Instead, he regarded the heavily dented and stained case. "...I still don't see the point, but I hope this is good enough," he said, then carefully stepped around the groaning Soldier and Heavy as he made his way to the exit. "Grogar's beard, I need a wash..."

Author's Note

I considered giving all of the BLUs gibuses (gibii?), but decided that was too on the nose.

Also, I think it's not an unreasonable conclusion that anyone reading this fic has seen the Meet the Spy video. If you haven't, check it out on TubeTube, it's pretty good. Also look up 'Rarispy' for the same thing but with ponies. Both get pretty gory in one particular moment, so fair warning.

Sorry to horn in unannounced.

Weeks later - long after everything had been righted, after the Basin had been destroyed (twice), after his very awkward interview with the Administrator - a visitor to his sanctum may have noticed a new addition to the mantle over his fireplace. It was distinctly out of place compared to the fine art and implements of death that surrounded it: a padlock, of crude and cartoonishly simple design, its case battered and its shackle sheared. If asked about it, Spy would describe it as a memento, a reminder of a path begun and a path ended. Some small thing to be proud of, even for one such as he.

Of course, very few people ever entered his quarters, and he was rarely well-disposed toward those that did, so nobody ever asked him about it. But that's how he would have answered, if they had. And they weren't Scout.

Princess Luna had fallen ill! The flurry of activity at Luna's chambers had been observed by a passing maid, and from there the rumor had taken flight. Quite literally, as in her panic the young pegasus had leapt from the nearest window to make her escape from the sudden hustle and bustle.

"Um. Fifter?"

Princess Luna had been injured! The flighty maid had explained the situation to the kitchen staff while she calmed down with a refreshing glass of carrot juice, fitting in as many embellishments as possible. The other ponies, many of whom had been palace staff since before Luna's return, had never known either alicorn to suffer a single day's illness. No, they decided, the Princess wasn't sick. She could only have been wounded! And that meant...

"Fifter."

Princess Luna had been attacked! The rumor rippled out from the kitchen, passing from pony to pony in an unstoppable wave. The lack of alarm bells or marching guards seemed to dispute the theory, but when a herd of medical ponies was spotted hurrying toward Luna's room, it was revived and became a tsunami of gossip that even reached the royal courtroom.

"Feleftia!"

Princess Luna had been murd-

"Feleftia, pleafe! You're fuffocating me!"

The Princess of the Sun was the picture of concern, a pair of well-fluffed cushions held in her magic field. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sister! Am I being too... smothering?"

"Yef! Literally! Thif if far too many pillowf!" One midnight-hued hoof tried to sweep the offending objects off her bed, but Luna only managed to sink deeper into the pile.

"Sorry! Sorry." Pale yellow hornlight glowed, and half of the pillows were excavated from around Luna's disgruntled form. There were bags under her eyes, a thermometer in her mouth, and an ice pack on her head. "I'm not thinking very clearly right now, I suppose," Celestia continued.

Luna sighed. "I underftand," she said around the thermometer. "I cannot fay I wouldn't-" The instrument was roughly snatched from her mouth by one of the half-dozen doctors stationed around her bed, and Luna glared at her briefly. "-have done the same."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" her sister pressed, trying to get a clear look between the massed medicos. "I know there was no physical damage, but to be attacked in a dream...!"

"No, it's not all right, but it's just a headache." Her horn throbbed, and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment. "...a rather intense headache, but still just a headache. I am certain I will recover by tonight."

"Tonight? But... Luna, you can't mean to return to your duties so quickly!"

"I must! In my foolishness, I abandoned our ponies to their nightmares for a thousand years; I will not-!" She stopped, affronted, and turned a baleful gaze on the nurse who had seized one wing and impersonally stretched it out, a roll of bandages to hoof. "I am not in need of a wing splint," she grated. "Thank you." The nurse defiantly matched her stare with a look that clearly asked 'Oh, so there was a medical academy on the moon, then?', but he rolled his eyes and relented.

"Our ponies," Celestia tried, "would rather have you well than suffer for their benefit. Luna, you can't even magic a few pillows off your bed! How do you intend to raise the moon?"

"I... was planning to leave that to you, sister," Luna admitted. "But my duties in the Dream Realm are much less strenuous." She smiled slightly. "I could do them in my sleep."

Celestia treated her to a sour look. "All right, everypony," she announced to the room at large, "we should let my sister rest. If she's able to make such a bad joke, she must be feeling better." She ushered the medical ponies out, then paused at the door. "Luna... the creature that attacked you... are you sure it wasn't Tirek?"

The Princess of the Moon frowned, troubled. "...I can't say it's impossible it was him," she said finally. "I wish I could be positive, and at the time I was convinced it was somecreature else, but I never actually saw him."

"Him?" Celestia pressed.

"Well, my attacker appeared male, but I suppose it's possible to intentionally project a different gender. Dreams are extremely malleable, after all. But beyond that... I don't know, sister. At first, I thought it was Tirek. His tone was so... smug and condescending, much as I remember from our last encounter with that monster." Her horn glowed darkly, until she winced and it flickered out. "We never did get to fully... register our disapproval over that."

"No, we did not," her sister agreed with steel in her voice. "I'm tempted to go to Tartarus and question him myself. Disapprovingly." She lifted a hoof as Luna started to protest. "I know, I know, it's too dangerous. We'll just have to let our friend handle it."

This did not seem to reassure Luna much. "I'm... still not sure about her. Can she be trusted?"

"Twilight Sparkle thinks so," Celestia said with a calm smile, "and I've learned to trust her judgment. Now, go to sleep, Luna. If you insist on watching over the Dream Realm tonight, I want you well-rested."

"Of course, sister. Thank you."

Celestia left, and Luna lay back, shifting into a more comfortable position. She hadn't needed her sister's encouragement, having already decided to regain as much strength as she possibly could...

...before she returned to take care of last night's unfinished business.

Her sister just didn't understand. She'd moved past actively punishing herself, but Luna could never truly atone for what she had done so long ago. The Dream Realm was her domain, her responsibility, and if anything within could potentially threaten the ponies of Equestria - and Luna counted Celestia among that number - then she would lay down her very life to eliminate that threat.

So she would rest, and when night fell she would seek out the dream of 'Tirek', whoever the dreamer might actually be. And if they posed any kind of threat to her charges, she would strike them down with every ounce of power and fury she possessed.

Disapprovingly.

Claw slipped into metal aperture, scraping against the sides in a careful search.

"That's good. Keep going."

A channel was found inside the hole, and was meticulously explored.

"Nice job!"

Nothing of note was found, and the claw moved deeper into the device.

"Oh, so close! You'll get it next time!"

Again, the claw's owner seemed dissatisfied, and it was withdrawn as further exploration was considered.

"You can do it! I know you can!"

The claw moved toward another part of the device... then paused, waiting.

"Great! That's the way to do it!"

The sharpened nail began to tap against the metal casing with an annoyed click-click noise.

"You've almost got it! Just a little-!"

"Miss Glow."

"Yes, Mister Spy?"

"You're hovering."

"I have to. There isn't enough room to properly fly in here."

Spy took a slow breath. "I mean you're too close and getting in the way. This is very delicate work and I need to concentrate."

"...oh!" She backed off and landed. "Sorry. I just thought you could use a little friendly motivation!"

"Well, thank you, but silence would be more helpful."

"You got it!" A full seven seconds passed, and then: "Golly, I've never seen anyone actually pick a lock before."

Spy, who had been braced for the interruption, continued his work on the padlock hanging from the filly's cage. "Mm."

"Don't you need special tools for that? Like a hairpin? Or a horn?"

He grunted. "Yet all I have are... these," he said, extending his clawed digits. "Hence the need for concentration."

"Right, right. Sorry." Ten seconds this time. "...how does it work?"

"...Miss Glow..."

"Well, excuse me for being curious!" she said sharply. "I just want to help if I can, since we're partners and all."

He stopped and looked at her for a moment. "Well..."

"Fine, I get it!" Cozy Glow turned around in her cage and sat down. "I'll just wait over here and shut my mouth like a good little filly! You go ahead and-"

"All right, all right." Spy held up a hand in surrender. "My apologies, Miss Glow. I'm not used to working with someone with genuine interest in my skills. My teammates excel at their own tasks, but are not... suited to the subtle arts."

She perked up. "Then...?"

"Attend. There are many things I will need to teach you if were are to succeed, and we may as well start here." He didn't actually see how the skill would be of any use to a creature with no hands, but... well, someone had to have made the thing, hadn't they? And as his old mentor had always said, teaching was the second best way to learn. Perhaps training the filly would help him find a vulnerability in the lock itself.

"...yes, sir, Professor Spy!" She gave him a broad, toothy grin, then rose up toward the lock. "So, um... I don't actually know how a lock works..."

"The basics, then. This loop is the shackle, this box the housing. The keyhole is on one end of the cylinder, which is just as it sounds. If the cylinder is turned, the shackle is released. Do you understand?"

"Shackle, housing, cylinder. Got it."

"Good. Now, to stop the cylinder from turning, there are multiple matching holes drilled into the housing and cylinder. Within these holes are the pins, tiny rods pushed down by equally tiny springs. They are designed to naturally extend from the housing into the cylinder, preventing movement." He paused and looked at her frown. "Can you picture that?"

"I... I think so..." She brightened. "Oh! That's what the pokey parts on a key are for, isn't it?"

Spy beamed at her. "Precisely! Well done. They push in the pins to the correct height and allow the cylinder to turn, opening the lock."

"That's so cool! And to pick it you just push the pins up? But that's so simple!"

"There are various techniques, but that is the gist of it. Normally I would use a pick or rake to lift the pins and a tension wrench to adjust the cylinder, but I'm having to make do." He returned to his task. "This looks like an immensely simple lock, and I thought these claws would do the job, but I've yet to find the pins. Perhaps there's some hidden mechanism..."

She hovered closer, though was careful to stay out of his way. "Well, it's been a while since they put me in here, but I don't think they did anything special. I do have one question though."

"Hm?"

"How are you going to get past the locking spell?"

He froze, then lifted his head to stare at Cozy Glow as she flittered about, trying to see the lock from every angle. "What."

"The locking spell! It's a magic lock, so there's a locking spell. How do you usually bypass those?"

There was no response, and she looked up to see him still staring at her. "Um... Spy?"

To her surprise, he let the lock drop and pulled his torso back into his cage, slumping against the bars. "Of course. Of course. This entire world was clearly crafted to mock my very existence, so why should this one little thing be any different?"

Cozy Glow rolled her eyes. "You're being dramatic and weird again. What's the problem with..." She stopped. "Oh. Right. No magic in your world, huh?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "No locking spells, certainly."

"Well... it's no big deal! Even if you'd gotten me out, I'd still be stuck in Tartarus."

"Yes, but at least that would have been something." He sighed. "I would have liked to accomplish something today, anything at all."

Concerned, she landed at the point of her cage nearest to his. "C'mon, Spy, don't be upset. Weren't we going to plan our big escape? I told you everything I know about Tartarus, didn't I?"

Yes, she had, and that was the problem. It had taken a distressingly short amount of time, and that was no comment on her depth of knowledge. "Do you know why it's possible to pick a lock, Miss Glow? A normal lock?"

"Gosh, no. Why?"

"Because every lock has imperfections. You push one pin and twist the cylinder until it sticks, but if the holes were perfectly aligned, you couldn't push in the other pins without releasing the first. Irregular spacing and tiny differences in the angles of each hole allow you - with care - to set each pin in a way that they stay in place."

"...okay, but I don't-"

"Finding such imperfections in your target - in any target - is the foundation of the subtle arts. You already know this, Miss Glow. You didn't go barging toward your final goal; you crafted a plan to bypass each and every obstacle in your way. And when it comes to escaping confinement, the imperfections to look for generally come from one place: the human element."

"...ahem."

He waved a hand. "Or the pony element, yes, yes."

Cozy Glow sat back, frowning. "I don't really see what you're getting at."

"Well, let's review. What was the first thing I asked you?"

"You wanted to know about the guards!" she answered promptly. "Their schedules, their personalities, who seemed most open to a bribe, things like that."

"And you said?"

"There are no guards."

"Correct."

It had been... disheartening, really. No guards? Obviously not. Why guard a place where it's impossible to escape?

But then who brought their food? Nobody, or rather 'nopony'. The magic of Tartarus sustained its occupants, removing the need for food or water, as well as the need to visit, as Cozy had put it, the 'little filly's room'.

What about personal care? Laundry clearly wasn't an issue, but surely they were allowed to exercise and bathe? No need. The magic kept them clean and in good health.

Surely they were allowed mental stimulation? Books, music, social contact of any kind? Well, they had each other, didn't they? And you could make tiny sculptures with the debris around your cage! That was fun... for a little while.

Spy had a vision of Tirek, trapped alone in this place for a thousand years with no outside contact or distractions apart from what could be managed within a cell barely larger than he was, and found a spark of genuine anger kindling within him. It was just a spark, and from the sound of it Tirek didn't deserve much pity, but still...

"I mean, someone does come to check on us every couple of moons," Cozy Glow continued, "but they just visited recently, so they won't be back for a while."

"No guards, no cooks, no opportunity to stretch our legs..." He reached down and ran a finger across the dusty floor. "...and certainly no cleaning staff. Doesn't the 'magic of Tartarus' bother to sweep up?" Spy shook his head. "Magic, magic, magic. We have many stories about magic in my world, and they so very rarely end well. This is not a prison, Miss Glow. This is a vault. It is a safe deposit box where you put things you don't need any more... and forget about them."

Her ears drooped. "...is it really that bad?"

"It rather sharply limits our options. Without guards or workers, there's nobody-"

"Nopony."

"...to provide any 'imperfections' to exploit. We will be able to work uninterrupted, which helps, but I'd rather have somebody to outwit or-"

"Somepony." She saw his glower. "What?"

"...Miss Glow. I appreciate that, while our languages are unrealistically similar, there are certain differences in pronouns that may seem counterintuitive to you, but allow me to point out that ponies have bodies, and so my more general, species-neutral term would still apply and is not in need of correction at every turn. Agreed?"

"All right, all right! Sheesh."

"Thank you." A memory rose. "Didn't you say you had written to Tirek? How?"

She leaned closer conspiratorily. "That's the weird thing. When I sent him that first letter asking for his advice on taking over Equestria, he said that a mailpony just showed up to deliver it, and whenever he wanted to send a letter back, she'd somehow know and show up to take it. He never saw how she got here or how she left; she'd just fly into the walls a few times and vanish when he wasn't looking."

Spy perked up. A loophole in Tartarus' defenses? This sounded encouraging. "Perhaps we could use this to our advantage. Is there anyone to whom you could send a letter? Family, or-"

"No," she said, too quickly. "Anyway, they put a stop to that after they caught me. Now our 'warden' handles all of our mail... not that we ever get any."

He looked down at Cozy Glow for a moment, filing the exchange away for future examination, then sighed. "Then I'm not sure how to progress. If this place does keep us healthy, we could ignore the limits of our forms and, for instance, dig our way through solid rock using nothing but our bare hands... or hooves," he added, as she opened her mouth. "But I, for one, would not want to try it."

"Yeah. And that's assuming there aren't spells protecting the walls, too."

"Precisely." He looked around at the vast cavern, but just like the last two dozen times, an escape route failed to materialize. "This is preposterous. Even from a jailer's perspective, this is the worst possible way to contain someone!"

She tilted her head. "I dunno, Spy. An inescapable prison seems like a pretty good way to do it."

"Yes, but what happens if it isn't inescapable? Tirek managed it, did he not?"

"Yeah, but there were special circumstances," Cozy Glow said dismissively. "There was a huge breakout a few years back. I heard a lot of different villains and monsters got out then."

He looked around Tartarus again. From his position at the center of the... plateau? He wasn't sure what the technical word for the flat outcropping would be, underground geologic terminology being another field of study he'd never picked up. But from where his cage was, his field of vision did not include much that was below the level of the floor. He could see a few things out on the edge of the cavern - there were scattered boxes in the shadows there, suggesting more cages - and there was a hint of a path leading up toward the prisoners, but that was it.

What was significant, however, was what he couldn't see... or, rather, hear. "Were none of these other prisoners recaptured? It's been very quiet in here."

The filly shrugged. "Some of the monsters were, but when she found out about them Professor Fluttershy had them released into her care for rehabilitation. She said keeping them in cages was cruel."

Spy looked at her, stunned. "...and yet they left Tirek - and you - in here?"

"Well, we're evil. That's different."

He watched her a moment longer, then leaned back and stared at nothing. Was it just a cultural difference? To have this small child matter-of-factly calling herself evil... back home, he was sure any number of people would be calling Child Protective Services to get her the help she needed. There was a dark thread running through this storybook land, but he wasn't sure whether it was using the pick stitch of cruelty or the stoating of madness. Or perhaps just the lazy daisy of stupidity.

(Spy occasionally sewed in his off time. It was soothing.)

"...you okay, Spy?"

He shook his head to clear it. "Just... thinking."

Cozy Glow studied him for a moment, concerned. "This whole 'no guards' thing seems to really be bothering you."

"It's not that I'm bothered," he said defensively, "it's just... bad form. On a professional level. A jail that ignores its prisoners is apt to lose them, in which case why bother with a jail at all?"

"Okay, but they do check on us now," she pointed out.

"Yes, but only once every few months?"

"Uh, moons, but..."

He waved this away. "If it's longer than a week, and a prisoner got out just after a check... Miss Glow, I myself could thoroughly go into hiding in a matter of days, even in this form. Several weeks? That may as well be a thousand years. They'd never find me."

"Golly!"

"Indeed. It's almost as if they want people to escape from their sealed tomb. It's... idiotic." Several seconds passed in silence before Spy realized that Cozy Glow was peering at him intently. "...what?"

"...you're mad," she said in realization.

"Wha...? Certainly not!"

"You are!" There was unmistakable glee in her voice. "You were so looking forward to showing off how clever you are by getting past the guards, and now we're back to square one and you can't handle it!"

"That's not it at all!"

"Awww, poor Spy," she said, barely suppressing a snicker. "Don't worry! I'm sure you were going to be... really cool...!" And then, unable to hold it back any longer, she collapsed with a peal of laughter. He glowered down at Cozy Glow as she laughed...

But then he stopped, his expression easing. When was the last time, he wondered, that she had been given the opportunity to laugh like this? How long had this oubliette denied her the basic comforts that any thinking mind craves? No food, no water, no bed, no entertainment or exercise, no social contact apart from an ancient megalomaniac. It was bad enough that they would inflict this torture on a creature like Tirek, but to a child? Spy did not, by any means, make a habit of kindness, but... perhaps she deserved the chance to laugh for a while.

"The look - hee hee hee! - on your face! It's so... dumb! Hee hee!"

...then again, he wouldn't want her to strain herself. She had to be out of practice.

"Yes, yes, get it out of your system," he grumbled. "And I'm not... upset."

"Sure, sure," she said, wiping away a tear with a wingtip.

"It's just a matter of principle," Spy said stiffly. "It flies in the face of the very concept of good custodianship, having not so much as a geriatric poodle to watch over the greatest villain in the land."

The giggles stopped, and she reared up, slamming her forehooves against the bars of her cage. It was supposed to look intimidating. It wasn't. "Hey! Two of the greatest villains!"

No, Miss Glow. You aren't a villain. Trust me. I know what they look like; I have a mirror, after all. You're just a confused little girl whose mental issues are being enabled by the rulers of this pastel hell. He opened his mouth to say this... then saw her expression of fierce determination, and relented. "Yes, of course. Two."

"You're darn right!" She perked up. "Oh! If it's a guard dog you want, we've got one of those!" She inserted her wingtips in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. "Here, boy! C'mere!"

He sighed. "Miss Glow, I was being facetious. I'm sure it's a very fearsome dog, but that's no substitute for-"

And then the floor began to shake.

There was activity at the edge of the cavern. Some huge dark quadruped had emerged from behind the cages and was loping toward them, gaining speed with every step. Spy lost sight of it as stepped onto the path... but only briefly. A few seconds later, there was a loud grunt of effort, a clattering of claws, and then movement and a landing that shook the cages and sent him stumbling to the floor. When he regained his bearings, he found himself staring up at...

...well. Rather silly of him not to have anticipated this. He was in Tartarus, after all. Even so, the size of it... technically, the abomination Scout insisted on calling the 'breadator' had been larger by half, but that had been an unnatural creature of science - stupid science, but science nonetheless - while this was flesh, blood and a stench with enough stopping power to bring down a Sherman tank. Clearly whatever magic kept the prisoners clean did not apply to the live-in guards.

"C'mere, you old silly! That's a good puppy!" The beast immediately bounded to Cozy Glow's cage with a happy bark that rattled Spy's teeth; one head presented itself for head scratches, a second angled to take the place of the first, and the third kept a close and unfriendly watch on Spy. The pegasus grinned widely at him during the brief moments that she was visible. "This is-"

"Cerberus," he said with absolute certainty.

"You know him?" she asked, surprised.

"He's rather famous back home, yes."

"Huh. Weird." The middle head nudged her cage and gave her a whine and a puzzled look. "Oh! Um... Tirek's just feeling a little confused today," she told him. "He hit his head last night and got all scrambled! Better just play along." Cerberus turned his - their? - attention to Spy, clearly not trusting him despite Cozy Glow's assurances, then went back to demanding scritchies.

An eyebrow raised. "He understands you?"

"Oh, sure! He's almost as smart as a pony!"

Spy got to his feet - hooves - and snorted. "A high bar indeed."

She gave him a Look. "Ha, ha. It just so happens that he's the one who kept... you and the rest of them locked in here all that time. One thousand years, and all it took was one very good boy to stop you from escaping." She delivered an extra-heavy ear scratch, and the massive beast rolled over in bliss. "So much for needing pony guards, huh?"

He treated Cerberus to a critical stare, which was returned threefold. "Perhaps," he said finally, "but I did eventually escape, didn't I?"

The multitude of ears flattened, and at least two growls began.

"It wasn't his fault!" Cozy Glow said quickly.

"Then whose?"

"...nopony really knows," she admitted. "He was just found in Ponyville one day, which is pretty far from here, and they must've gotten out while he was away. Maybe somepony opened the door from outside, maybe there was some magical... stuff, or maybe Discord just thought it was funny. Or maybe you did it." Cerberus seemed to have no opinion on the matter, or at least was studiously ignoring the conversation.

"Really." Then a thought occurred, and he brightened. "It's unfortunate, wouldn't you say, that we don't have any way to find out what happened?"

She looked confused. "I... guess?"

"Surely this baffling conundrum would have been easily solved if there was some neutral party there at the time who could clearly communicate what had transpired? Perhaps by - and this is just an example pulled at random - talking about it?"

"Well, sure, but..." She stopped and wrinkled her nose at him. "Really?!"

"Thus," he continued gleefully, "the superiority of the 'staffed prison' ideology is proven once again." He gave a little bow. "I rest my case."

Cozy Glow's expression was one of disgust. "You are such a sore winner." His chuckle only aggravated her further. "I'm not even sure that you won!"

"Of course I did. I have been proven correct, and all is right with the world once more."

"Oh, whatever! You're just-"

Abruptly, Cerberus sat up and stared fixedly at the cavern's edge. Six ears perked forward... then his tail began to thump on the floor.

Cozy Glow blinked in surprise. "What? Already?" Without responding, the massive hound leapt to the edge of the plateau and bounded down the path, quickly dropping from view.

"What is it?" Spy asked.

"It's the warden!" As the filly spoke, a deep rumbling shook the cavern and a vertical line of blazing light appeared beyond the cages. Cerberus reappeared and approached the light, tail still wagging. "I mean, I don't know if that's her official title, but I guess it fits. Weird, though; I wasn't expecting her back for weeks!"

As Spy watched, a tiny, tiny equine, barely more than a stick figure at this distance, appeared silhouetted in the light, which he quickly realized was daylight entering through an enormous pair of slightly opened doors. Well, there was the exit, looking incredibly inviting. Not that he knew what was behind it, what to do if he did escape, or how to get past the guard dog, but at least he knew where it was now.

Cerberus had approached the pony, bouncing around as eager dogs do. The light began to narrow as the doors closed, and a strong, decisive female voice rose up from below. "Okay, okay. Yeah, it's-" The hound barked and jumped closer, head down and posterior up, dragged left and right by the force of the wag. "Yeah, yeah, it's me. Sorry, but I don't have time to play with you right now."

"Is that unusual?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the figure. He was starting to develop a feeling of dread, and didn't know why. "Having her show up so soon, I mean."

She considered the question. "Kind of. I mean, it's not like I've been here years or anything, but she said specifically it'd be at least another moon before she showed up again. Tirek started his plan right after she left, in fact, I guess to make sure she wouldn't catch him doing it."

The pony was making her way directly toward the path... or would, except that Cerberus was blocking her every step. "Okay, down, boy. Down. Down!" The voice turned sharper when he failed to obey. "I mean it."

"One more point... in favor of..." He trailed off, still unable to look away. "...so she... plays with Cerberus?"

"Oh, sure. She can handle it rough. That's kinda why she was picked for this, I think. Even if Tirek got out and drained her magic, she could take him down. Says she doesn't need it."

"I... said... DOWN!" The tiny figure leapt, twisted... and suddenly Cerberus was rolling backwards, scattering empty cages as he went until he slammed against a cavern wall.

"Mon Dieu..." Spy breathed.

Cozy Glow chuckled. "Yeah..." she said mildly. "She's pretty terrifying."

Despite the claims of his enemies - and, not uncommonly, his teammates - Spy was not a coward, or at least did not consider himself to be a coward. He did, however, have an exquisitely refined instinct for danger, and at the moment it was ringing every alarm it could find. His mind raced and conclusions were being reached with frightening speed, even before he could put words around the question that they answered:

Why had the warden returned so soon?

"Merde." he said. "Deep merde."

"I keep telling you, we don't have any."

Below, Cerberus got back to his paws and seemed none the worse for wear, though he seemed to stagger a bit. He was still eager for 'play' and the wagging was not diminished, but he did stay a respectful distance from the pony as she resumed her trek toward the prisoners.

"Miss Glow," he said finally. "I need you to teach me how Tirek speaks, and I need you to do it before the warden makes it up here."

She heard the tension in his voice, and looked up at him in confusion. "What? Why?"

"I don't want her to think there's anything amiss. Quickly, now!"

"No, no, it's fine!" she insisted. "In fact, this is perfect! We can tell her what Tirek did, and then maybe they can figure out how to send you back to your world!"

"I really don't think that's-"

"Oh, don't worry about me," Cozy Glow said, misinterpreting his hesitation. "I'll be fine in here. It's where I'm supposed to be, after all."

Is it? "I... appreciate your offer, but..." He could hear hoofsteps now, metal on stone.

"It's okay, I promise! We'll just talk to her. Maybe she'll call in the Princesses! They'd probably want to help."

He experienced a full-body wince. "I rather doubt that."

"But why?" The hoofsteps were louder now, and getting more menacing with each passing second.

"Because," he said, attempting the difficult feat of speaking rapidly while trying to avoid as much blame as possible, "there is a slight chance that I may possibly have inadvertently..." He took a breath, then plunged on. "...murdered your Princess Luna last night."

Cozy Glow's eyes grew wider than he'd even thought possible. "You WHAT?!"

"Shhh!" He listened carefully; the hoofsteps had stopped, then resumed after a few seconds, more slowly and deliberately.

"How," she demanded, her voice low, "do you maybe possibly murder somepony?!"

"It's easier than you think."

"You have a real problem, Spy!"

"We can discuss it later, if I survive! Hurry!"

She glared at him briefly, then glanced toward the stairway. "All right, all right... Um. He talks kind of like this..."

They spoke quickly in hushed tones, as the hoofsteps grew ever closer.

"...no, no. More growly and... y'know, nasally. Yeah, that's better..."

"Hey!" The warden's sudden shout, louder than they expected, made them both jump. "You two are awfully quiet up there."

"...always talking like he's the smartest creature in the room. I mean, not like you, but... well, on the other hoof..."

When there was no response, the warden set her mouth in a tight line and nodded slightly. "Okay," she murmured. "Okay. That's how we're playing it, then." She resumed her climb, even more careful and alert than before.

"...and he'd be all smug - like you - and sarcastic - like you - and... come to think of it, just basically a lot like you! Only less Prench."

"Hmph. Thank you for that, Miss Glow. So, your basic intellectual bully, then." He concentrated, adjusted his vocal cords, then: "I believe I can manage that. How does this sound, little filly?"

She blinked. "Wow! That's really-"

"It's not polite to ignore your guest, y'know. Makes me feel all... unwelcome. You wouldn't want that, would you?" There was a flash of color where the stairs began, the tips of the warden's mane as she climbed the final steps.

"There she is!" Cozy Glow hissed, unnecessarily. "Just follow my lead!" She cleared her throat and said, more loudly: "Well, look who it is, Tirek! Y'know, we were just talking about you!"

The mare stepped fully onto the plateau, pausing long enough to survey the prisoners from a distance... and vice versa. "Really."

If someone had described the warden to Spy just a few days ago... well, this entire situation was nothing short of ridiculous, of course, but the pony in front of him would have seemed exceptionally silly, if going by a description alone. Violet fur with a magenta mane, hues never seen on any Earth equine, and that mane... was that a mohawk? And a scar over one eye? Someone was clearly trying too hard! Steel footwear of some kind enclosed each hoof, and some cross between clothing and armor was wrapped around the mare's barrel. And then there was the horn, or rather...

But that would be just going from a description. To see her in person... to see how she moved, and how those impossibly clear eyes took in everything before her... Spy did not feel like laughing. What he would have mocked as being 'edgy' felt - here and now - as though it had definite potential to cut him.

"Why, sure!" Cozy Glow responded brightly. "We just thought it was funny that, even though all three of us tried to take over Equestria, we're stuck in here while you get to walk among all those ponies you betrayed, without a care in the world! Don't you think that's funny..." And she sneered, letting acid enter her voice. "...Fizzlepop Berrytwist?"

...all right, that did make him want to laugh. And though antagonizing the warden seemed like a bad idea, it felt to be in character for Tirek, so he matched Cozy Glow's snicker with one of his own.

She let them laugh for a moment, then stalked forward, her eyes fixed on Spy. "That's Tempest Shadow to you two," she said with only a hint of malice.

He gathered all of his willpower and cunning, focusing them to a knife's point as he had done before so many other battles. The gates were opening; time to test his skills once again... "What a surprise to see you!" he said, putting all of Cozy Glow's advice into practice and absolutely drenching each word in sarcasm. "If we'd known you'd be back so soon, we would have made tea and crumpets! To what do we owe this unexpected surprise?"

"Oh, you know," Tempest said casually in a firm contralto, still moving forward. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to check up on you two. Not in a friendly, 'how's it going' kind of way, but more of a 'I'll drag you behind the Friendship Express if you cause any trouble' kind of way. So..." And she stopped mere inches from Spy's cage, their gazes locked. "...how's it going?"

And Spy... hesitated. She hadn't seemed to notice any significant problems with his voice or speech patterns, so that was a relief; he'd relied on his disguise kit for so long, he'd been worried that his impersonation skills had gotten rusty. Nevertheless, her penetrating stare was making him second-guess himself. "Ah..."

"Oh, we're doing great!" Cozy Glow said behind her. "Just a couple of best friends spending all of eternity in-"

Without looking, without ever moving her eyes from his, Tempest lashed out with a precise backwards kick, striking the upper edge of Cozy Glow's cage. It flipped onto its side, eliciting a squawk from its inhabitant. "Pipe down, shrimp. The grownups are talking. How about it, Tirek? Anything to say?"

But the interruption had helped, and Spy managed to rally his confidence. Get into your mask's head, that was important. He had to remember: he was Tirek, conqueror of Equestria, and he... wasn't actually sure why Tempest was here. His dimension-hopping plan had gone awry, yes, but there was no way she could have known about it, so what brought her back so soon? He was both suspicious and confused, and, all right, slightly nervous because the mare was genuinely intimidating, but he was obviously her superior in every way and saw no reason to show her any respect. She had strength, but he had intelligence and cunning! He wouldn't...

...hm. Perhaps Cozy Glow had been right: this did feel familiar.

He decided to unpack that later, and presented a carefully forged expression of disdain, hatred, wariness and guile, all layered around a core of honest uncertainty. "What are you getting at?" he demanded, and gestured to the whole of Tartarus. "As you can see, everything is just as it has always been." He let anger enter his voice, and found not all of it to be feigned. "One thousand years of nothing happening."

"Oh, I'm sure it must have been just terrible," she shot back, unimpressed. "That sounds almost as bad as what you would have done to Every. Single. Pony in Equestria if you hadn't been put away. Just thinking of that... well, if it were me, I don't think I could sleep at night." She paused, watching him closely for a reaction. "What about you, Tirek? Have you been... sleeping well lately?"

He didn't freeze up. You didn't do that, unless freezing up was natural. Yes, you prevented all signs of surprise, but only because you were preventing all signs of anything that your mask wouldn't be experiencing at the moment. Not that it was a surprise to him anyway - he'd been almost certain she was here to investigate the attack - but if he allowed even a hint that he knew what she was talking about, she would-

A sound came from Cozy Glow's cage, one of immediately stifled shock and realization. Tempest swiveled one ear toward the sound, and her stare hardened, watching to see if this provoked a reaction.

...drat. I shouldn't have told her what happened. No, don't think about that, and by all that is holy don't look annoyed. That was a trap of its own. Instead, he glanced at the cage, clearly puzzled - but not at all angry or worried - by the fact that Cozy Glow would make a sound like that. Then he dismissed it and turned his attention back to Tempest. All entirely natural for someone who didn't know why 'sleeping' was the topic of the day. "...fine, I suppose," he said finally, stroking his beard. "These are hardly five-star accommodations, but I've gotten used to them."

He passed the test; Tempest allowed a hint of disappointment to show in her eyes. "Uh-huh."

And then she turned and started to slowly walk around his cage, still watching him closely. "Y'see, Tirek," she said, "I happened to be visiting Canterlot when I got a summons from Celestia herself. Seems her sister had a bit of a problem last night..."

...oh, dear Lord, she was predating. She was trying to wear him down by imitating a hunting beast, circling their prey before they leapt for the kill. It was a very intimidating tactic...

"...woke up with a splitting headache, talking about being attacked in a dream. Your dream. Now, I don't know all the details..."

...if you were unaware that actual predators didn't act like that. Pack hunters all leapt at once for the target, and an ambush predator that alerted its prey before attacking often went hungry. Even sharks only circled because they were too blind to figure out what was thrashing in the water without some investigation. No, frightening the prey was rarely a useful survival technique. And Spy, who had probably faced more life-or-death situations than anyone in this storybook world, was hardly going to be shaken by a bit of circling and glaring. Honestly, she lost a bit of respect in his eyes by doing it, though in a world of herbivores perhaps it was understandable.

"...seemed to think it was someone else. Personally, I don't know much about dreams. Not really my thing. But you don't argue with a Princess." She stopped in front of him once more and stared up at him. "How about you, Tirek? Any of this sound... familiar?"

Now, what was the correct response here? He recalled that Luna had referred to him as Tirek at first, but at the time he'd assumed it was due to his subconscious mind processing the information given to him by Cozy Glow; he hadn't realized the Princess was real. So apparently his dream occupied the same metaphysical space that Tirek's dreams usually did? Interesting, but not particularly helpful.

The path forward here was... denial. Yes. Unless she could prove he wasn't Tirek, she couldn't fault him for a thing that happened in someone else's dream, could she? So he would maintain the appearance of confusion and wariness. Dream? What dream? Nothing to do with him.

But still, he was Tirek, and Tirek couldn't let an opportunity like this pass by. He had to, as it were, twist the knife. "Hmmm. Princess Luna was attacked, you say? How horrible! I shall have to send her a fruit basket!" And he laughed, as nastily as he could manage.

Tempest narrowed her eyes. "So, is that a confession?"

"Oh, I never said that," he replied with an extra helping of smug. "Much as I may like it to be the case... no, I did not attack your precious Princess." He sneered at her. "Though if I did, why would I admit it?"

She tilted her head slightly, considering this. "To prove that you could?"

...good point, and one he could use. "Hmhmhm, and how delightful that would be! Watching you squirm, not knowing how I did it or how to stop me!" He'd intended to follow that with 'but too bad! I didn't do it, thus removing my chance to gloat!' It was a good plan... but he'd pushed it too far.

She chuckled. It wasn't a nice chuckle. "Oh, Tirek. I really wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you. See, there was some magical turbulence yesterday, turbulence they traced directly to Tartarus."

Oh. They had detected Tirek's escape attempt, then. He wasn't aware they could do that. Magic, magic, magic. "Well, I don't-"

"And sure, maybe I don't know how you did it, since I never really got the chance to learn much magical theory..." Tempest glanced up at her broken horn. "...but as for how to stop it, I'd be willing to bet that clamping that mouth shut and tying your, uh..." She trailed off vaguely, staring at the end of his arms.

"...hands?" he offered weakly.

"Right. And tying your hands... that would probably do the trick." She stepped closer, eyes wide. "How about it? One thousand more years, only this time with your mouth closed and not able to so much as scratch an itch."

Spy found he was sweating slightly. Well, that was all right. He felt Tirek would be properly intimidated by the threat, though possibly not so much as Spy himself. Getting trussed and gagged would definitely put a crimp in his plans. "That's... quite unnecessary."

"Because the filly's right," she continued, ignoring him. "I am out walking around among all the ponies I betrayed. And you know what? I'm paying for it. I made a big down payment on it, but the Princesses have done so much for me that I don't know if I'll ever... ever manage to pay it all back. So if it means making sure Luna doesn't get another headache, or worse... then you can spend another millennium wrapped up like a Hearth's Warming Day present for all I care."

"All right!" he shouted with unfeigned panic. "You win! I'll talk."

Tempest considered this... then shook her head. "I don't think so. I think I'll go ahead and tie you up, just in case. There's something going on here," she added, glancing back at Cozy Glow's cage, "and the fact that the attack came from your dream is just too much of a coincidence for me. No, until they figure out what you were up to yesterday, I think it's better for everyone if you're-"

And then Cozy Glow redeemed her earlier outburst. With, ironically enough, an act of apparent betrayal. "He was trying to escape!"

"Traitor!" he snarled. Thank you, Miss Glow! he thought.

Tempest spun to peer down into the smaller cage. "Escape, huh?"

"Gosh, I tried to tell him not to," she said, the very picture of a Good Little Filly, "but he just wouldn't listen! There was a lot of magic stuck to me from that rift I created, and he wanted to use it to get out of Tartarus!"

"Really." The warden turned back to look at Spy, who scowled and looked away. "Doesn't look like it worked."

Cozy Glow giggled. "Nope! It blew up in his face and knocked him out! He didn't wake up until this morning."

"The theory was sound," he said with a growl. And nobody here knows magical theory, so prove me wrong.

This time Tempest made her disappointment plain. Clearly hogtying Tirek would have been the highlight of her day. "And you didn't attack Luna?"

He visibly hesitated, then said, as though every word were being dragged out of him, "...no. I was unconscious, not asleep. I didn't dream."

"Then whose dream was it?"

"How should I know?! Dreams are her domain, aren't they?" He crossed his arms and scowled. "I promise you, if I did have the opportunity to strike, I would have done more than give her a headache. Lord knows she deserves it."

Her brow furrowed. "Lord who?"

...careful, careful... "It's... an old centaur figure of speech," he said dismissively. "You wouldn't have heard of it."

Tempest stared at him for a long, long moment, and... was that a flicker of... something in her eyes? Whatever it was, it had almost immediately been smoothed over. "...uh-huh. Okay... Tirek. I suppose that all checks out."

He hated to do it, but Tirek wouldn't let it go so easily. "Hmph. Leaving so soon? And here I thought you missed our company."

A small smile appeared momentarily. "Oh, don't worry about that," she crooned.

...oh, no.

"I think I'll stay around for a few days. Make camp down by Fido. Y'know." She lifted her head and looked directly at him. "Keep an eye on things." Again, a long silence while she watched his expression, looking for any unusual reaction. "That won't be a problem, will it? Tirek?"

Well, yes, very much so. Despite his preference for a staffed prison, Tempest Shadow promised to be as difficult to bypass as the rest of Tartarus' defenses. Having her hanging over his shoulder would make planning an escape next to impossible, much less actually implementing one. And if they somehow managed to figure out exactly how Tirek's plan had been intended to work, they could realize he'd been the one to attack Luna. The consequences of that eventuality promised to be dire. "Pfeh! Why should I care? Do what you want." She smirked and turned back toward the stairs.

And then an inkling of an idea occurred. He wasn't sure where it would lead, but at the very least it opened up some options. And when you're at the bottom, you may as well push your luck as if you were Sisyphus. "Although as long as you're here, you could at least make yourself useful."

There was a hiss of indrawn breath from Cozy Glow's cage, and Tempest stopped in her tracks. When she spoke, it was with a short-lived laugh of disbelief. "I'm sorry... what?"

"Well, this place is unfathomably dull," he complained. "We could use something to liven things up."

"It's. A. Prison," she grated. "It's not supposed to be lively."

"Oh, come now! Be reasonable." He gestured down at the empty cages. "Even the monsters were released! It was cruel to keep them here, but not us?"

She frowned. "That wasn't my call."

But there was a bit of hesitation there, a slight weakening of the defenses. He pushed on. "If you won't do it for my sake, at least do it for hers."

Tempest looked genuinely surprised, and looked at the smaller cage. "Hers?"

A pair of hooves wrapped around the upper bars of the cage, and Cozy Glow pressed her face against them, barely visible from this angle as a lump of fur and eyeballs. "Mine?"

"Tell me: when Tartarus was created, did the designers build it with foals in mind?"

She was definitely hesitating now. "I... I'm not sure..."

"Of course you are, because of course they didn't!" he scolded her. "They wouldn't have planned for someone as... precocious as she. And little creatures need lots of stimulation for proper growth, do they not?"

"Oh, please. What do you know about 'little creatures'?"

He simply raised his eyebrows. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, Tempest!" Cozy Glow chimed in. "I get plenty of stimulation talking to Tirek! I'm sure I'll grow up to be just like him!"

Spy locked down a grin. That had been masterfully timed; Tempest was clearly having trouble resisting his argument, then Cozy Glow's attack had swung in from the opposite direction and shattered her defenses. She grimaced, but tried to rally one last time. "Why should I do anything to make things better for you? You're villains. You're both villains!"

There it was; that old familiar feeling. It was with words instead of a knife, but he knew when to strike home. He leaned out of the cage toward her. "Yes," he said. "And doesn't that mean you're supposed to be better than us?"

He saw the flinch, as rewarding as any death rattle. She struggled to form a rebuttal... then sighed. "What do you want? Some toys?"

The smaller cage bounced. "Yes please!"

"Certainly," Spy said smoothly, "though I presume you don't have any with you. A decent meal would be a good start, though. Yes, yes, Tartarus provides, but eating is about more than just sustenance. Can you imagine not tasting anything for however many... moons she's been here?"

A hoof emerged from the upturned cage and waved frantically. "Ooo! I want a hayburger! A nice, crisp hayburger! With extra honeysuckle!"

She stared at him, a million questions clearly racing through her mind... but none of them resulted in a refusal. "Okay, okay. I think I should be able to manage that. I'll be back in a bit." She turned to leave again.

"Excellent." He waited until she reached the edge of the plateau, then: "Now, for my order..."

Tempest whirled on him, outraged at his audacity. "Oh, no! No, no, no! You don't need any 'stimulation'!"

"On the contrary! One thousand years of solitary confinement has left me particularly starved for interesting diversions! I know I had my little... hmhmhm... outing, but that was rather abruptly cut short."

"That's all the more reason not to-!"

He smirked at her. "Think about it. If I'd had something to distract myself with, perhaps I wouldn't have become a certain little filly's pen pal. Hmm? Would have saved everyone a lot of trouble all around."

"He's got a point," Cozy Glow noted. "I didn't really expect that he'd write back to me; it was just the only way I could think of to contact him. He must have been really bored to write to some dumb, innocent foal, don't you think?"

"All right!" She gave up, exasperated. "All right. But if you think I'm going to bring you somepony to snack on, you're crazy."

He'd been ready for this, based on what Cozy Glow had told him of Tirek. "A common misconception. I don't eat magic, per se. I absorb it to grow stronger, but I enjoy a good meal like anyone else." And perhaps that was even true.

Either way, Tempest seemed to accept it. "Fine. Whatever. So that's two hayburgers, then?"

Spy raised an eyebrow and exposed his long canines. "Do these look like the teeth of an herbivore to you? No. I would like..." And he grinned at her. "...a steak."

There was a sudden retching noise from the other cage. "Gross!"

"...steak."

"Meat of most any kind would do, but a nice pan-seared steak, with mushrooms lovingly sautéed in garlic butter..." He felt a self-induced pang of hunger, despite the magic of Tartarus. "That would be... divine. Of course, if that's too-"

"No problem."

Cozy Glow's voice became even more nauseous. "Really?!"

Tempest glanced down at her and shrugged, or at least did something analogous involving a foreleg gesture. "The Storm King's minions weren't shy about their eating habits. I got used to it." Then she looked at Spy. "No steak, though. How about fish?"

He made a face of genuine dismay; his stomach had liked the idea of a steak dinner, and didn't care for the change in plans. "Well... I suppose..."

"Take it or leave it, champ. The next catering service is in a thousand years."

"Oh, all right, then," he said sourly. "But bring me a book or a newspaper as well. I prefer to read while dining."

"Whatever you say... Tirek." She turned to leave for the third time... then stopped and smiled. "Oh... and in case your plan was to bribe him, I happen to know for a fact that Cerberus hates fish."

Spy allowed himself to look crestfallen. "...oh."

Tempest grinned at him, glad to have gotten a point on her side for once. Then, with a kick that righted Cozy Glow's cage, she descended the staircase.

He held up a hand, cautioning the filly to silence, until Tempest reappeared down below. "Well done, Miss Glow," he whispered. "You were of great assistance."

"You... you really think so?"

"Of course."

"...golly. But... was that your plan? To bribe Cerberus?"

He shook his head. Below, the line of daylight reappeared, slightly more orange than it had been the first time. "I have other plans for the hound."

"...then..." She looked down shyly. "...did you really mean all that? About... wanting to make sure I got the things I needed?"

"Well, yes," he said idly, still watching the stick figure pony walk into the light. "And it also gets us some time to plan without Miss Shadow overhearing."

"...oh."

Her change in tone immediately caught his attention, and he reached over to touch her hoof. "But yes, I absolutely meant what I said. In my world, there are rules against treating prisoners the way they've treated Tirek - well, except in Arizona - and to do it to a child is... unthinkable!"

Her eyes widened. "Do... do you have a child, Mister-"

"I admit nothing and that isn't the point," he said quickly. The doors began to close, and Cerberus moved to lay in front of them, waiting. "Miss Glow, I promise you I would have made those requests regardless. The fact that it helps us is merely a happy coincidence."

"...oh." She settled down in her cage, looking fluffy and pleased. "Okay."

A final thud echoed through the cavern, and he straightened up. "To business. What do you think was the most important thing we learned from her visit?"

She blinked. "We learned something? I mean... let me think. Is it... oh! Is it that you didn't actually kill Princess Luna?"

"Well, yes, that was also fairly vital," he admitted. "If nothing else, we will need to be vigilant in case she invades our dreams tonight."

"Which reminds me! Why did you even-?"

"I thought she was just a dream," Spy said with a shrug. "That's how I handle all my dreams. My sleeping mind projects figments from my subconscious that represent issues to be dealt with - threats, worries, guilt, remorse, and so on - and I eliminate them with extreme prejudice so they will no longer bother me."

Cozy Glow stared at him. "I... don't think that's how dreams are supposed to work."

"Really? Well, regardless, it's just as well I didn't finish the job. But that's not what I was referring to."

"What, then?"

He stepped forward, placing both forehooves outside of the cage. "A jail that ignores its inmates is not much of a jail." Then he grabbed a pair of bars in front of him, his hands over his head. "And a cage... that can be moved..."

And he pulled down on the bars, and pushed up with his legs, and with some difficulty - due to his centaurian bulk - managed to lift the front edge of the cage several inches off the ground. By throwing his weight back and forth and scraping with his hooves, he closed some of the distance between them.

"...is barely a cage at all," he said triumphantly, and let it fall to the ground.

"Wow, neat! So... how does that help us?"

He beamed, still breathing heavily. "I have no idea. But I'm going to consider the matter."

"Oh."

"In the meantime, we have plans to make, the nature of dreams to discuss, and I feel a history refresher course is in order. But first... a lesson."

She brightened up. "Another lesson?"

"Indeed." He knelt down next to her, palms on his thighs. "To begin with, I need to ask: how flexible are those wingtips?"

The doors closed behind Tempest with a thud, and the magical lock - refurbished so that it didn't require a rare and single-use key - sealed itself. She looked around... and scowled at what she didn't see.

The terrain around Tartarus was... well, there wasn't a word in Ponish for it other than Tartarean. 'Draconic' came close, but suggested more lava streams and fewer sulfurous gas vents. Irregular stone columns, dark and stinking geysers, twisted outcroppings, treacherous vines... if the geology was good for anything, it was for looking strange and menacing.

And if it were good for two things, it was that and for providing a multitude of hiding places. "All right!" she bellowed. "Get out here where I can see you! Come on! Front and center!"

Slowly, a number of bashful pony heads emerged from behind cover. Each wore a shiny gold helmet. "Oh, there you are," she said sharply. "Equestria's Finest! When Celestia provided me with backup, I didn't realize that meant you were going to back up all the way to Canterlot!"

"Aw, c'mon, ma'am! Cut us a break!" one protested, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "That's Tirek in there!" The others nodded, except for two of them who returned to hiding at the mere mention of the centaur.

Tempest forced herself to calm down. She couldn't blame them for being nervous, not after what he'd done to them. What he'd done to Equestria.

(What you did to Equestria...)

She stomped that thought down, shook her head to clear it. "Tirek's still contained. You don't have to worry about him."

"That's easy for you to say! You never got your magic drained! He's probably getting ready to bust down that door any minute and eat our faces off!" The other guards muttered and trembled; three more dipped out of sight.

Oh, for storm's sake. "Number one," she said loudly, "he would have to snack on a bunch of unicorns before he'd be strong enough to drain pegasi. Pegasi like you. That's straight from Twilight Sparkle, and she knows about these things; you'll be fine. Number two, if he could do that, he would have done it long before we got here. The breaking out, I mean, not the face-eating. He'd have to wait for your faces to get here for that." She stepped closer to the guard, smiling a nasty smile. "And number three, he's not the one you should be scared of."

"Y-you mean... you?"

She shook her head. "Think about it. One little filly, draining all the magic in Equestria. She fooled everyone into liking her and doing her bidding, up to and including the Princess of Friendship. She even made Tirek into her pawn. Until they took them all out, Tartarus was full of the meanest, most dangerous creatures in the world... and her."

He took a nervous step back. She followed.

"While you're all worried about Tirek, she might come up right behind you and turn you into one of her zombie friendship minions!" Her eyes were wide and she spoke in a tone usually reserved for campfire ghost stories.

"I... I didn't know she had-"

"Oh, sure. Thousands. And the worst part?" She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. "You'll thank her for it."

It was too much. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a faint.

She turned and casually walked back toward Tartarus, watching the door thoughtfully. "Or maybe she's just a regular filly, what do I know. So! Who's the best flier here?" There was some hesitant murmuring behind her, and she stopped in her tracks. "No, no... don't tell me. I can guess. Who's the second best flier here?"

More conversation, then a younger-looking guard was pushed forward. "Um. I guess that's me."

Tempest looked him over. Orange fur, blue mane... attractive enough, if you liked that type. She didn't. "Huh. Thought Royal Guards had to dye their fur white. All right, sunshine, you're with me. The rest of you..." She cast her gaze across them, almost causing another fainting spell, and sighed. "...as you were."

She led the young guard away from Tartarus, taking a shortcut toward more civilized lands. "Where are we going?" he said after a while.

"I'm just getting my bearings. I'm pretty sure I saw a stream or two on the way in here."

"...I could fly up and check?"

She glanced back at him. "Ever caught a fish, kid?"

He stared. "Why... would I?"

"Then no. You wouldn't know what to look for. Besides, you're going to be busy."

"With what?"

They reached a tall outcropping at the edge of a wide field, groups of trees scattered about. Tempest surveyed the terrain as she spoke. "There should be some village or another near here. The first thing I need you to do is to go pick up some supplies."

He nodded. "I think Boopingham is closest. What should I-"

"Boopingham?! The town closest to Tartarus is called Boopingham. Really. Not 'Oblivion' or 'Purgatory' or, or 'Dreadmaw'. Boopingham."

"I didn't name it," he said defensively.

"...riiight. Freaking ponies have no sense of drama," said Fizzlepop Berrytwist. "Boopingham. Storms above..." She glanced up at the setting sun. "Okay. Probably too late in the day to hit a toy store..."

He blinked at her. "Toy store?"

"...but look for a good restaurant - nothing too fancy - and order a hayburger. To go."

"A... a hayburger."

"With extra honeysuckle. Oh, and you may as well grab a newspaper while you're there."

The guard shook his head. "I don't get it. We've got plenty of rations with us, and sending a member of the Royal Guard for a newspaper? We aren't your errand colts! What's this all about?"

Tempest turned, ready to scold him for insubordination... but forced it down. She wasn't his commanding officer, even though Celestia had assigned the guards to assist her, and while tormenting the scaredypony had been amusing, she really shouldn't treat them like the Storm King's minions. They didn't deserve it, and she didn't have the right.

"It was...!" She sighed. "It was Tirek's idea."

His eyes grew wide. "Tirek?!"

"It was a reasonable request, all right?" Her protest turned into a mumble. "...it's for the kid."

He quirked a smile. "What, did she turn you into a friendship zombie?"

"Hah. Maybe so."

The guard looked down. "...none of us are happy about it, you know. A filly doesn't belong in there, no matter what she did."

Tempest found herself agreeing with the sentiment, but refused to let it show. "Not my call."

"And the newspaper? Is that for her, too?"

"No, that's for Tirek. He says he 'likes to read while dining.'"

He raised an eyebrow. "So? Who cares what he likes? Cozy Glow is one thing, but following Tirek's orders?"

Tempest stood silent for a long moment. "Yeah. I get it. I do. But... a thousand years, all by himself. After I lost my horn, I thought I'd never have friends again. All those years, alone. Even in the Storm King's army, alone. How much worse was it for him? Even if he did deserve it." She paused thoughtfully. "We're supposed to be better than him."

He watched her quietly, uncertain what to say. Then she arose from whatever pit of contemplation she'd fallen into, and performed a full-body shake. "Anyway," she said, in tones demanding that the last few minutes of conversation be forgotten, "that's only half the reason I'm going along with his requests."

"What's the other half?" he asked dutifully.

She grinned. "That's simple, sunshine: I'm giving him enough hay to choke himself."

"I... didn't think he ate-"

"It's just a figure of speech." Her expression changed subtly as she remembered something. "Hah. Yeah. 'Figure of speech.'"

"Ma'am?"

She stepped closer conspiratorily. "D'you know something, kid? Every other time I've been in that place, that old centaur has insisted that I call him 'Lord' Tirek. Not this time. Not even after I tried pulling his bridle over it."

He almost reared back in shock. "Then... it's not really him?! Are the rumors true?"

Tempest scowled. "...I don't know. I felt like there was something off with him, but it's not like I know him all that well. But... let's say that when he tried to escape-"

"What?!"

"Focus, kid. Let's say that something took him over. And let's say that it attacked Luna. Okay. But then... if it would do something like that, why would it care about Cozy Glow?" Her frown grew deeper. "Then again, why would Tirek care about Cozy Glow? Nothing adds up."

"So, until it does, we're going to do whatever he says?" he asked doubtfully.

"Just until I figure out what he's planning," she assured him. "Once I've worked out what's going on... I'm bringing the hoof down. Hard."

The guard nodded in acknowledgement. "Sounds good to me."

"Glad you approve," she said dryly. "Now get moving while there's still daylight."

"Roger that." He took to the air, but paused and looked down at her. "You said getting supplies was the first thing you wanted me to do. What's the second?"

"Oh, that's simple. Once you get back, you're going to hightail your flank to Ponyville and pay a visit to Twilight Sparkle. It'll be pretty late when you get there, so have her put you up in a spare room."

He gulped. "S-sleeping in the same palace... as a Princess?"

"Oh, come on, you do it all the time. Two of 'em, in fact."

"That's different!"

"Storms above, get over it! Tell her I want her here in the morning. No ifs, ands or friendship missions." She grinned wickedly. "Oh, and tell Spike - that's her little dragon - that I want a report of every freak-out and stammer once Twilight realizes she's spending the night with a gentlestallion caller under the same roof."

The guard shuddered, still blushing hard enough to reflect off his helmet. "You are evil."

"Yeah, but I'm working on it every day. Now, get flying, and meet me back here in a couple of hours." She chose a direction and hopped off the outcropping. "I've got a fish to catch."

I feel très pon!

Centaurs don't use beds.

Ponies manage to do it, even though by all rights they shouldn't, but centaurs just have too much going on in the extraneous body part department. Even alicorns have it better off. The closest they might come to the concept would be a futon and a heavy comforter; anything more complicated would be a logistical nightmare.

When Tirek managed to make it to his - Spy's - quarters, he was mostly running on autopilot, letting his body make the decisions for him. He'd had a very trying day, after all, and was still recovering from the interdimensional transfer. He'd undressed, dropped onto the bed... and fell into unmitigated bliss.

Some people had personally tailored suits. Spy had a personally tailored mattress. And also a great many personally tailored suits.

And the sheets? Thread count was not a thing that generally mattered to a species almost entirely covered in fur, so Tirek was entirely unprepared for the luxurious feel on his skin of High Tibetan silk, coaxed from the cocoons of pedigree silkworms fed only the finest snow-touched mulberry leaves. Kings had gone to war for it. Popes had declared it a sin. Spy had two extra sets for when he got bored of the color.

And the pillows! No creature on Earth had down as soft as the Iridescent Mandarin Duck, an endangered species now even more endangered after-

The point is that it was a very good bed, and Tirek, who had been sleeping on the floor of his cage longer than the lifespan of most civilizations, was taken completely by surprise. It was paradise.

And it lasted until precisely 5:36 AM.

"REVEILLE!" A crash of metal just outside his door threw Tirek to the floor in a panic. "This is Reveille I'm playing right now! We are currently experiencing a shortage of trumpet-like objects so these discarded baking pans will have to do!" Another series of crashes, in something that approached the exact opposite of rhythm. "Reveille! The sun is up and so should you, maggots! You gotta get up, you gotta get up, you gotta get up in the MORNing..."

Tirek focused all his efforts into climbing back into the cloud pretending to be a bed and closed his eyes, desperate for a return to sleep. Unfortunately, all of the expense Spy put into his furnishings did not go toward soundproofing his quarters (for security reasons; there were those who soundproofed their rooms, and there were those who didn't get assassinated by the Tapdancing Monks of Sri Lanka) and it seemed everyone in the building was passing by his door.

"Aye, a pox 'pon alla ye wee jobbies! Runnin' aboot all invistibilly, but I sees ya! Oh, aye?! Say that again! I'll kick ye inna... hic!"

"Scout, please, I do not have time for zis..."

"Breakfast up in forty five, boys. Pyro, you're on dish duty."

"Look, all I'm sayin' is-"

"Hudda hoo?"

"Because it's your turn, that's why!"

"-if anyone asks who touched Sasha-"

A distant bellow: "WHO TOUCHED MY GUN?!"

"-it wasn't me. All right? We clear?"

"Hmmamo huu! Hudda!"

"Scout, please! Zere was an accident in my lab!"

"Oh, god! Is it serious?!"

"Well, you're just gonna hafta straighten that out with Sniper. Your name's on the list, so it's your turn."

"Hrrrrrrrrm..."

"Nein, nein. A tray of bacteria I've been training to digest common household vaste and process it into tiny grenades fell into an old culture sample I'd forgotten about and which has since evolved psychic powers and a seething hatred for all other life..."

"...uh..."

"...and I cannot vait to see who vins! Care to join me? I have popcorn!"

"...uhhh... no thanks. You... you have fun with that."

"Mm. Suit yourself."

At which point sleep seemed a foregone conclusion. Besides, there were other... considerations.

Tirek reluctantly climbed out of bed and managed to find what he was looking for after a short search. A room all to itself? Indoors? Fancy. He availed himself of the facilities without thinking about it too much, and then discovered

the

shower.

The hot shower.

Horns and hooves! This was amazing! For a bunch of powerless simians, these 'humans' did all right for themselves.

He would have eagerly stayed in there for the rest of the day, until he remembered hearing a particular word - breakfast - that indicated another opportunity that he'd been missing for centuries. Well, that wasn't completely true; he'd eaten while in hiding after his first escape from Tartarus, but those meals were the product of petty theft or found in trash bins. And most of the 'food' that wasn't rotten was inedible to a non-pony! So... much... hay.

Tirek probed 'his' mouth with a finger. Shorter canines, but they were there, along with solid incisors. Molars in back, too. An omnivorous species, then, like his own. That promised proper food, and now that he thought about it this body was voicing its own opinions on the matter. He could-

One of the molars shifted at his touch, then part of it rotated outward. On a hinge. This revealed a compartment of sorts, and inside was, he discovered after some uncomfortable attempts to remove it, a very, very tiny bucket of ice, in which sat an even tinier bottle.

He gingerly held the bucket between his fingertips and stared at it. Just... how? Why?

(Chateau Lilliputia, 1907, Spy could have told him. An expressive, supple vintage best enjoyed in extremely small amounts.)

Shaking his head, he emerged from the shower and dried himself (another moment of tactile bliss; the finest, fluffiest towels created from et cetera, et cetera.) He stood in front of the large mirror, wiped the steam from it... and scowled at what he saw.

A magical switcharoo! Curse all the luck! Apparently the little brat had less magic clinging to her than he'd estimated. There had only been enough to send his mind, not his body. What a terrible-!

He paused and rubbed his chin, turned his head this way and that. Well. As such things went, he supposed it could be worse. This body was... not young (though he was hardly one to complain on that score) but certainly nimble and well-kept, and its features were not entirely dissimilar to a centaur's. And Spy clearly maintained a standard of living for himself that Tirek had never even dreamed of. It would hardly be torture to remain here for a time.

More importantly, he was out, if not entirely free. No creature in Equestria would be able to follow him, even if they puzzled out what he'd done. And there was poor Spy, taking his place in Tartarus! He held no personal malice toward the human, but on the other hand Tirek's travails from the previous day were clearly his fault.

No. Not just him. Those females as well. The mousy one, and the one that breathed smoke constantly.

It hadn't taken Tirek long, upon waking up in this horrible world, to discover that his visit could very easily be cut short, and not in the way he'd prefer. He'd opened his eyes to a darkened room, his limbs - too few! - lashed to a chair, with the females standing over him. Whatever Spy had done, it had enraged them, especially the mouse who kept talking about a 'day off', a term completely alien to Tirek. They ignored his claims of ignorance, and mocked his explanation of who he was! The nerve! They only calmed down after they held a pipe - a... gun, that was it - to his head and made the most dire threats, though at the time he didn't understand what the wretched thing would have done to him.

It had seemed that the fastest way to escape their wrath would be to agree to anything they said, so he did. Not out of fear, of course, but just to get on with things. They gave him an ultimatum to prove his loyalty: collect the other team's briefcase, alone... or die. And then a needle in his neck sent him back into darkness again.

Of course, he hadn't realized what that demand had actually entailed. Little details like 'and the other team is going to try to kill you' would have helped.

But he'd survived - not that it was ever in doubt - and he'd learned. Oh, he'd learned, all right. Those pipes, those guns... that was power in this world. That was strength. Did Spy have one? The other Spy, the blue one, had threatened him with a gun. Not a particularly impressive gun, not like the larger weapon that had... he shuddered. But the blue one had seemed confident it would end his life. Unfortunately, if Tirek's borrowed body did own a gun, it hadn't been on his person. Perhaps he'd lost it in that inexplicably placed pool of water.

No matter. He'd find a gun of his own, and if that didn't work, he'd find more-

A scent had entered the room while he was contemplating, and when it reached him it burrowed deep into his nasal pathways, climbed into his brain, and pulled hard on recognition neurons that had been neglected for so, so long.

Meat.

Frying meat.

Meat that could be put in his stomach by means of eating it which would absolutely involve taaaaaaasting it. And no squeamish pony was around to stop him.

Everything else could wait. He'd collect guns, yes, and use them to secure dominance in this violent world. Perhaps he would even free himself from the tyranny of those two females... hah. A familiar situation indeed, there.

And then he could put his original plan in motion... somehow. He knew how, but the particulars promised to be difficult. But he'd figure it out, and he would reign over both worlds for all eternity! No creature could stop him!

But first... breakfast.

"Good morning, Spy!"

Tirek almost jumped. Being greeted in such a genuinely cheerful fashion was practically a unique experience for him - Cozy Glow came close, but that's where the word 'genuinely' came into play - and he wasn't sure how to react. Especially since the greeting came from someone he'd bludgeoned senseless the previous evening. But there had been a duplicate Spy as well; he could probably assume that this was a teammate. "Er... yes. Good morning..." What had the other one been called? "...Soldier?"

How did that work, anyway? Were those names? Ranks? Titles? Why did everyone with the same label look so alike? This world was too strange.

"Fine work last night, buddy!" Soldier continued, falling into step next to him. "Infiltrating enemy territory single-handedly to recover a briefcase is a job for real men! With real guts! Full of methane!"

"You know about that?" He'd gotten the impression the mission had been a secret.

"Of course! The voice in my head told me!"

"I... see."

Tirek glanced sideways at Soldier as they walked. Subterfuge. That was paramount. He needed to fit in if he was going to survive. Clearly, revealing his true nature was a dangerous proposition, given the reaction of the mouse and the dragon, and his mission yesterday had proceeded much more smoothly once he used that changeling device. He didn't know anything about Spy's mannerisms, though, and it would be too easy to make a mistake. He needed information, but he couldn't be too blatant about it.

Yes. Subtlety. Well, that wasn't an issue for a mind as sharp as his.

"Soldier," he said casually, "do you, by any chance... happen to notice anything strange or suspicious about me?" No, no, not subtle enough! "I'm... conducting a survey." Perfect!

"Spy, I'm gonna level with you: you are now and have always been the strangest and most suspicious person I have ever met," said the Soldier, without rancor. "Also, surveys are tools designed by the Communists to collect information on each and every red-blooded American citizen so they can sneak into our homes at night and force us to take their borscht and government cheese! Well, they're not rationing this son of the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave, I can tell you that much! I'll dig through a thousand dumpsters before I accept a single gesture of well-meaning community support!"

"...I... completely understood everything you just said," Tirek told him, "but putting that aside for now, I meant am I acting unusual at this moment, compared to what you would normally expect?"

"You mean... apart from asking me for advice?"

"...yes."

Soldier rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well... your voice. It sounds more... growly than normal. And it's too, y'know, nasal."

"I see." He should have thought of that. Switcharoos had a high chance of bringing one's voice into the new body. Tirek considered the difficulty of trying to imcentaurate a creature he'd never heard speak before, and decided it wasn't worth the effort. "I have a cold."

"Really? You should check with Medic about that. He took out our immune systems and replaced them with new experimental models based on honey derivatives, remember? Works great, as long as we keep out the bees."

"...yeeees. That's it. I have... bees."

"Well, make sure to cover your mouth. Oh, and you're sounding a lot less French than usual."

Prench? His exposure to the language was exceedingly limited. "Should I-"

"No, no," Soldier said, holding up a hand. "That's a good thing."

"Oh."

"And you're being polite! Why, if I didn't know better, I'd swear I was talking to one of the ladies down at the Brittle Hips Retirement Home! 'Oh, Soldier,'" he continued in a falsetto, "'please stop making us do the limbo! Our fragile elderly spines can't take it!' Your spine was put on God's green Earth for one reason, Gladys: to see how low you can go!"

Tirek's brow furrowed. "Defiance? From the old and weak? But you're clearly their physical superior. How dare they question you?!"

"See? That's more like it! Just talk like you're some ancient wizard bent on world domination, and it'll be just like always!"

"Hmhmhm... I believe I can manage that. Is there anything else?"

"Let's see..." They stopped in front of a door as Soldier made a final inspection, the tantalizing meat smell wafting strongly through it. "No, everything seems to be in order. ... well, except one thing."

"And that is?"

Soldier pointed to his own face. "Your mask thing is missing."

Oh, yes. He'd barely noticed it until it was time to take it off. "He... I usually wear it even when not on a mission? Even to meals?"

"That's an affirmative. You probably left it wherever you put the rest of your clothes."

Tirek looked down at himself. "Ah. Clothes. Yes. I'd forgotten about that."

"I should have mentioned that first," Soldier admitted. "You're usually a pretty snappy dresser."

He glanced longingly at the door. "Do you think it would cause comment if I went in there like this?"

"You always told us that if you ever stopped hiding your identity, your life would immediately be in danger. Also, Engie has a thing about naked backsides on chairs."

"I see. I also see that you yourself are just as naked."

Soldier saluted. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Won't that cause comment as well?"

"It never has before, and if it did I don't remember it! There are a great many things I don't remember, for reasons of national security! And I have a good reason for my nuditude!"

"And that is?"

Soldier flexed his muscles. There were a great many of them, and all were on display. "Commando training! Some people think going without their tighty-whities is good enough! I say, go big or go home!" He relaxed and looked at Tirek. "You should go home, though. I don't think you're ready for this level of training."

Tirek sighed. Breakfast would have to wait, then. "Well, thank you for... I mean, begone, cretin!"

"That's the ticket!" Soldier gave him a thumb's up, and entered the mess hall.

"What a sensible young creature," Tirek murmured in approval. He headed back toward his room, turning the corner before the shouting began:

"Whoah, whoah, whoah!"

"Good night Irene!"

"Ach, put yer skivvies on, ye maniac! Yer upsettin' me drink!"

Garments. So many garments. Tirek was prepared to accept the concept of garments for decorative or ceremonial purposes, but there were just so much of it in Spy's closet. It took a good ten minutes to figure out what went where, aided by the fashion magazines carefully stacked nearby and Tirek's own memories of the blue Spy, and even then he hadn't been able to guess what to do with the white thing with the hole in the front. Finally, he gave up; it wasn't worth delaying breakfast over.

The scent led him back to the dining area. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves... then another through his nose because that meat smelled better than magic.

All right. He was ready. He was prepared. And he was hungry.

He opened the door, stepped through...

"YAAAAAAAA!" Thunderous footsteps raced toward him, and he had an immediate flashback to the previous evening. Before Tirek could react, he was caught up in a bone-crushing hug and lifted off the ground.

It was the giant! He must have known what Tirek did to his... brother? Cousin? Mirror twin? The monster was going to break his...

And then he realized the giant was laughing and smiling, and the hold was rather less lethal than he'd originally thought. "HA HA!" Tirek was set back down roughly. "Good! Is good thing you did!"

He stared up at the human. Did he... not like his twin?

And then he realized the air was filled with applause. "There he is!" a voice with an Appleoosan drawl proclaimed. "The man of the hour!"

Tirek looked past the giant (with some difficulty) and saw several humans clapping their hands and... smiling at him. At him! Some he recognized - if that was the correct word - from the previous night, while others were new to him.

All of them. Clapping. And smiling. And even cheering. For him.

Before he opened the door, he didn't think there was anything that would stop or even slow him in his quest for breakfast. But there was one trap that he was powerless to avoid: adulation.

Carefully - so carefully - he took a step forward. This... had to be a trick! It looked suspiciously like... friendship!

But there was Soldier, now fully clothed, sitting in the corner smiling and clapping with the rest of them. Surely he was trustworthy?

And even if it was a trap, it was one he was willing to walk into because there, at the other end of the room, was a plate overflowing with wavy, golden brown... what was the word? It had been so long...

BACON.

He took another step. And another. And slowly, without intending it, he felt the appearance of a smile of his own.

"Hey, good job with that intel, pallie!" said a scrawny human, smaller than any of the others. Tirek didn't recognize him, but the voice was familiar.

"Er... yes. Thank you." But Soldier shook his head quickly, then raised his arms and wiggled his fingers for some reason that Tirek couldn't fathom. It did serve to remind him of the human's earlier advice, however. "That is... what else would you expect from someone with my talents?" Soldier gave him another toothy thumb's up.

"Good on ya, mate!" called the man whose counterpart had been using the long gun.

Just be yourself. Even if you're not sure what he just said. "Naturally!"

"Aye, that's the way you do it!" This came from a human with unusually dark skin and an eyepatch, not to mention a nearly impenetrable accent. So they do come in different colors, Tirek thought to himself. He had wondered.

He turned and walked backwards for a moment, giving the human a quick bow. "But of course!" This was exhilarating! And it was right and proper! He'd braved the enemy compound and returned with the treasure guarded within! He was a hero! And BACON would be his rewa-!

Tirek collided with someone and fell to the ground. Dreams of power and fried pork vanished from his mind, and he glared up at the fool who had dared stand in his way!

And then he stopped glaring.

The... human? Probably human. It was clad in some kind of rubber suit, red and black, and its body was completely shapeless and genderless within it. Its head was completely covered in a strange mask of some sort, leaving no visible hair or skin. The mask had thick eye coverings, and though no eyes could be seen within, Tirek knew without a doubt that the creature was staring daggers at him.

And it.

Was.

Growling.

His blood ran cold, and even more so when he realized that the clapping had stopped. The other humans quickly surrounded him in a flurry of movement, and oh my goodness that was a lot of pipes. Only Soldier - trusted, reliable Soldier - hadn't joined the group, and was watching the proceedings with concern. Or possibly incomprehension; it was hard to tell under that helmet.

"Don't move, fella, if you know what's good for ya." The stocky human with the hardhat - Engineer, he remembered - glanced at the smaller man. "Check him, Scout."

"On it." Scout crouched over Tirek and quickly patted him down, searching through his clothes. Several tense seconds passed... then he looked confused. "...nothin'."

Engineer hesitated, glancing at the thing in the rubber suit. "Check him again. Be more careful this time."

The search lasted twice as long this time, and may have taken even longer if Scout's efforts weren't abruptly cut short. "Aw, jeez!"

"What is it?"

"...still nothin'. No disguise kit, no watch, no gun..." He stood up, giving Tirek a rather disgusted look. "...no underwear."

He felt an explanation was called for. "...commando training?" he offered.

Engineer scratched his head, then turned to the still-growling creature. "Pyro, you got your mask on crooked or somethin'? That's our Spy."

The creature spoke, but the sounds were almost completely obscured by the mask. "Hudda hrm hud hmma!" It gestured violently at Tirek. "Hudda hudda hoo!"

Lifting his goggles, the Engineer scowled at his teammate. "I don't wanna hear it! I ain't makin' him strip down just to prove you wrong. No disguise kit, no disguise! You know that!"

"Hrrrrrrr!" The Pyro reached over its shoulder for... some kind of complicated object Tirek couldn't recognize, but was mercifully stopped by the Engineer.

"Have you lost your damn mind?!" he demanded. Taking a pair of empty plates from a nearby table, he thrust them into glove-clad hands. "Go wash these, and don't come back out until you've soaked your head a mite! Go on, git!" Pyro glared (presumably) at the Engineer for a moment, then at Tirek. The tension mounted even further... then the creature whirled and stomped through a swinging door, muttering with every step.

Engineer watched the Pyro leave, concern slowly eating away at his anger. "What was that all about?" He shook his head and reached a hand down to Tirek. "Sorry about all that, Spy. Gotta be careful, right?"

Tirek grasped the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. "Yes, well," he grumbled, glowering at the kitchen door, "that... thing needs to be put on a chain!"

"Now, don't be like that," Engineer said placatingly. "I know y'all don't see eye to eye, but there's been plenty of times Pyro's saved your bacon. Speakin' of..." He picked up a clean plate and loaded with with scrambled eggs, hash browns and crisp, mouth-watering perfection. "I know it ain't your Crêpes Suzette, but... dig in."

Tirek reigned in his annoyance and accepted the plate, then with some ceremony lifted a piece of bacon and took a bite.

It was everything he'd imagined, and more.

Within seconds, the plate was denuded of bacon, the eggs and hash browns completely untouched. The Engineer looked surprised, having been expecting a comment about his 'cholesterol-laden bumpkin fodder,' but broke into a grin. He liked to see his cooking being appreciated. "There ya go! Here, let me refresh your plate." With a pair of tongs, he retrieved more bacon from the serving plate, and he held it out for delivery.

Tirek instead took the entire platter, leaving his own plate behind as he scurried toward a table like a rat with a stolen baguette. All sound in the mess hall - apart from furious chewing and groans of enjoyment - stopped once more as the mercenaries, one by one, turned to watch the spectacle unfolding before them. "...wow," Scout said finally, his voice weak with faint horror. "Look at him go."

"Buh...!" The sound the Heavy made was not so much a word as an escaped breath of sorrow and disappointment. He'd been next in line.

Engineer placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I'll whip you up some more, Heavy. After what Spy did last night, if he wants to..." He looked at Tirek, still bent over his plate. "...eat his weight in bacon... well, I say the man's earned it."

Tirek swallowed and took a breath, for what seemed like the first time in a minute and a half. "Yes. I am a man, and I did earn this!" He stared down at his Kingdom of Bacon, the platter over half empty now. "This is what I deserve."

The mercenaries exchanged glances and shrugs. "Well, you eat up," Engineer said. "We've got a busy day today."

The kitchen door opened slightly, and the being within stared at Tirek with, as it were, burning ferocity.

That was not Spy. Pyro knew it all the way to the bone. Perhaps the intruder wasn't literally an enemy Spy, but he was still wrong. How many Spies had Pyro caught over the years? Didn't that count for anything with the others?

No. Even if the others didn't help, something had to be done. Because Pyro's bestest friend in the entire world was missing, and until he was returned things would burn.

Also the intruder was making so many messy plates that Pyro would have to clean even though it was absolutely Sniper's turn.

There would be a reckoning.

Other eyes were also watching Tirek, though not from within the base. No, these were... elsewhere.

In a darkened room not far away, a wall of television screens formed a composite image of Tirek, who was bravely but unwisely challenging the Heavy for the next platter of bacon.

"Revolting," said an older woman, though her tone was more fascinated than disgusted. "Look, he's put some in his pocket for later. Pocket bacon. Astounding."

"Yes, Administrator," said her companion. There was a pause, and then. "...um..."

"Stop." The Administrator held up a hand. "Miss Pauling, based on that one utterance, I can predict the entire oncoming conversation. It will be tiresome."

"...oh. Um. Then... should I...?"

She sighed. "Oh, you may as well. If I don't let you get this out, you'll fuss. Proceed."

"All right, then. Why are we doing this?"

"By which you mean 'letting him live.'"

"Well... yes! Administrator, he opened a briefcase! I had him all prepped to infiltrate Facility 17-G, though to be honest a bullet to the head would have been kinder..."

"It is a bit of a loss," she noted. "Hale did say he wanted more combat data on the acid weasels."

"...but instead you sent him against those... clowns!"

"And yet he barely succeeded," the Administrator said. "Did you notice? Of course, it was his first time on a modern battlefield, so I suppose we shouldn't judge."

Without looking up, the Administrator began to narrate to herself. There's the pause as she processes what I just said... then the tiny gasp as she realizes the implication. The intake of breath to demand to know if I am crazy, followed by the sudden closing of the mouth because saying that would not be beneficial to her employment. Now a studied silence as she realizes that I am not, in fact, insane, at least not in that way. Finally, the careful rephrasing of her original question in three... two...

"You... believe his story. Which means you have a reason to believe it. Which means he probably is this... 'Lord Tirek'."

Her eyebrows raised. Not just questioning, but also considering the ramifications. The girl had come so far from the reserved, terrified assistant she had once been. She had become almost... tolerable.

Instead of answering, the Administrator moved a petri dish on her desk, sliding it into the light. "Do you know what this is?"

Miss Pauling peered at the substance within. It was a dark, ash-like material with specks of glittering golden flakes mixed in. The whole of it looked muddy and... unclean in a way unrelated to dirt. If precious metal could defecate, it would look like this.

"That's... depleted Australium, isn't it?"

"Correct. One hundred pounds of Australium, once every last trace of useful material is wrung from it, produces one gram of... this. Until yesterday afternoon, I was aware of only one trait possessed by depleted Australium, which was that, when precipitated into an aerosol spray, it makes an effective knockout gas. Much cheaper to produce than the normal kind, and of course," she added, glancing at her own arm, "we have so very much of it."

Her assistant tried to keep up. "Something about Spy's interrogation led you to finding another trait?"

"Indirectly. You would agree that his behavior was strongly out of character, yes?"

"Apart from claiming to be an interdimensional wizard? Well, I've never seen Spy blubber like he did yesterday. I didn't even get to use the battery."

"Perhaps next time, Miss Pauling."

"It was my day off, Administrator! I deserved to have some fun."

"Whining does not become you, girl. But... yes. It was so unusual that I decided to start looking for a reason behind it... and to make a long story short, found that the subjects MannCo tested the spray on began to develop similar changes in personality."

Miss Pauling frowned. "That could just be due to hallucinations, or brain damage."

"True, except one of them grew tentacles and ate the researcher. Another pulled half of the building into its own nether realm."

"...oh."

"Quite. As it turns out, depleted Australium's second function is to paint one's brain as a thaumic target for interdimensional wizards. And as such creatures are notoriously difficult to bargain with, the wretched stuff is once again completely worthless. Even if we used it on an enemy, we couldn't be sure we aren't giving them an even stronger ally."

"Well... so what? Even if this Tirek swapped bodies with Spy, we don't want Spy back. Send him to 17-G."

For the first time, the Administrator turned in her chair and looked up at Miss Pauling. Her gaze was... intense. Not intensely angry or intensely worried. Just intensely... focused. "Ah, but you see, Miss Pauling, Spy does possess information that I dearly need. The answer to one simple question that only he can provide. I must have him back... even if he only lives long enough to talk."

Miss Pauling didn't understand, but knew when her employer was being intentionally cryptic. "You did put Tirek in danger, though."

"From them? Hardly. And I wanted to know more about him, as well. It's been... enlightening. As well as disturbing."

Miss Pauling gave up, and looked down at her clipboard. "So I should schedule them for a light workload until we figure out how to get Spy back? To keep him safe?"

"No, he's with the team now. They'll take care of that for us. Besides..." She allowed herself a thin smile. "...I don't think we want to give creatures like that the idea that this world is some kind of vacation hotspot, do you? Let's give him a taste of how things work here. Give him what he deserves."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Administrator took a drag from her ever-present cigarette. "And later, I'll have a little errand for you to run..."

Author's Note

Soldier is so much fun to write.

Also, just to head off the people eager to assume my death, the next part may take a bit longer to get out. I don't have as good a handle on what needs to happen next as I'd like, and these last two chapters were a lot of writing. Need to recharge a bit.

That filly is not one of us.

How long ago had it been? Not excessively long, to be sure, but how many moons? Less than a year, certainly.

Not long enough.

She stood next to her sister, neither speaking as the superintendent of the facility pleaded with them in tones both weary and urgent. Below them, the most dangerous child in Equestria struggled against the solidly built ponies assigned to enforce discipline. From their haggard appearance, it had been a difficult assignment.

The child spotted the sisters, and screamed defiance. Gone was her usual veneer of innocence; now she demanded. If her orders were not followed, she said, the realm would never know peace. They were too weak to keep her. Sooner or later, she would escape, and have her revenge against any that had stood against her!

The sisters did not fear these threats, but neither could they ignore them. A discussion was held. An option raised. An immediate objection. A heated argument.

A decision.

There was silence afterwards, punctuated by yet more arguments, but she couldn't think of anything better to do. There was nowhere else to send the child.

Ten moons. Yes, that was it. Not long ago at all.

Slumbering, Luna shifted in her bed, her brow creasing briefly as the memory-dream faded.

Not long enough for regret to fade.

"Again. Who are you?"

The filly stood in a ready position, forelegs bent and shoulders forward. She took a long breath and began to speak, though all of her attention was focused a few hooflengths in front of her. "My name," she said slowly, "is Chessie Mae."

"What is your purpose here?"

"I'm here on vacation." Just beyond the bars of her cage, a hand was presented to her, palm up. There was a small rock resting there, and her gaze was locked unwaveringly upon it. The... things on the hand... fingers, that was it. The fingers were curled loosely around the pebble, just enough to keep it secure. "I'm here to see the sights in... this town."

"A filly on vacation, all by herself?" The grip around the rock tightened slightly. "That's not very likely. Where are your parents?"

Focused as she was, she didn't see her interrogator's gaze sharpen when the question was asked. But she'd been expecting it anyway, and answered immediately and naturally, or at least gave the appearance of a natural response. "Golly, they said I could look around town all by myself. I'm a big filly now, after all! We're going to meet back at the hotel for lunch!" She paused, then said quietly, "...delicious hayburgers..."

"Don't drool. It's unprofessional." He waited until she wiped her mouth, then: "Leaving you alone still seems unsafe. Perhaps I should escort you back to your hotel." The fingers had relaxed slightly, but still maintained their hold on the rock.

She took another breath. "Gosh, Mister Policepony, if there were something dangerous around here, I'm positive you would have already taken care of it, right?"

He hesitated, then after three excruciating seconds nodded. "A fair point. All right, then. Enjoy your stay." The grip loosened further, and the fingers formed a wide cage around the stone. No room for hoof or mouth to get in, but just enough for...

She tensed, her hindquarters wiggling slightly in preparation. "Thank you so much," she said, steel resolve in her tone, "for all... your... HELP!"

And she lunged, striking the bars hard enough to shift her cage slightly. She never took her gaze off the stone, even as her head pressed firmly against the iron enclosure, and her wing extended out, stretching, straining...

Not quite reaching.

He let her flail desperately for a moment, then closed his hand tight around the pebble. A moment's adjustment, then he flicked it in her direction; it bounced off her temple. "Hey!"

"Too obvious," he said sternly. "Your approach was good, but it means nothing if you spoil it at the end." He transferred another rock to his free hand and held it out. "Again. Who are you?"

She scowled, then took her position. "My name," she said, trying to contain her annoyance, "is Chessie Mae. I'm here on vacation with my parents, all the way from San Anponyo, and we're going to go see-" The pebble struck her shoulder and she yelped, more from surprise than pain.

"You don't sound like you're from..." She could almost hear his eyes rolling. "...San Anponyo."

"Oh, come on!" she sputtered. "How would you even know?!"

"Call it an educated guess," he said dryly. "Again."

Another scowl, then she took another breath... and when she spoke, it was with a twang that could cut through mountains. "Well, howwwwwdy dooooo, buckaroo! Ah'm little ol' Chessie Mae, and Ah'm just pleased as apple cinnamon waffles to meet y'all- HEY!"

"Yes, very amusing," he said, unamused, "but you need to take this seriously." He readied another pebble. "Again."

Cozy Glow stomped her hoof and let out a frustrated scream through clenched teeth. "This. Is. Too. Hard!" she declared. "I can't concentrate on keeping in character with some fake identity and try to get that stupid rock at the same time! It's impossible!"

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry," Spy said, insincerity dripping from every word. "I wasn't aware the Empress of Friendship was incapable of a little multitasking. You ponies can teleport, shape the weather to your own ends, and move the sun and moon themselves, but asking you to do two things at once is clearly a step too far."

Surprisingly, this did not improve her mood. "Why are we even doing this? I kind of get what you want me to do with this... what did you call it again?"

"Pickpocketing," he provided.

"Which is dumb because almost nopony has pockets. We mostly use saddlebags."

He started to respond, but hesitated. This was a rabbit hole that needed exploring. "Which implies the existence of saddles?"

"Oh, sure," she responded, brightening slightly. "I'm not really much into fashion, but Professor Rarity showed us some super cute saddle designs for her winter line."

"But who uses them?"

"...uh, ponies? Duh."

"No, I mean, who sits in the saddles?"

"Huh? Nopony sits in saddles."

"Then what are they for?"

"For wearing!"

They stared at each other for a moment, locked in a game of counter-cultural chicken.

Spy blinked first, metaphorically speaking. "...call it what you will," he said, pretending the previous exchange hadn't happened. "Bagbiting, if you must. The art of removing an item from a target's possession is in fact ideal for one of small stature. I myself managed a comfortable living of barely-avoided starvation on the streets of Paris when I was your age."

The comment was a trap, and he waited to see if Cozy Glow would stumble into it. Any discussion about his childhood would invariably lead to questions about his parents, and then she could hardly refuse to answer questions about her own. He knew enough about her now to work with her, but he found himself wanting to understand the filly, and her inexplicably absent parents had to be linked to her imprisonment in Tartarus. Of course, they could simply be dead, and that kind of cliché would be unsurprising in this storybook world. Still...

But she spotted the trap, or perhaps just chose a different response. "And that's all well and good for you, mister human with your fingers at the end of your arms. I've only got these little baby wings." She flapped them to demonstrate. "How am I supposed to take the rock when I can't even reach it?"

"Yes, that is an issue," he acknowledged. He reached into her cage and repositioned her so that her right side was against the bars. "Try it like this. It should be easier without that massive cranium in the way."

She gave him a sour look, then slipped her wing through and flexed it experimentally. "Yeah, but now I won't be able to see what I'm doing."

"Good."

"What?"

Spy pulled his arms back. "When stealing anything - be it a loaf of bread, a wallet, or a life - one of your goals should be to delay discovery of the crime for as long as possible. If you stare at your target like a deranged magpie, it gives them clear suspicion of your intent. You must be subtle, you must be quick..."

Then he opened a hand, and a yellow ribbon tumbled out, held between two clawed fingers. She blinked, then looked back at her tail, now unadorned. "...and, whenever possible, you must be outrageous," he concluded, laying the cloth over her outstretched wing.

Cozy Glow stared at the ribbon. She hadn't even felt one ringlet move. "...whoah."

"I will hold my hand steady," he said, as she twisted around to reaffix the ribbon (somehow; hooves, mouth and tiny wings didn't seem adequate for the job, but she managed it.) "You will just need to remember where it is and take the rock without looking." He reached for his pile of pebbles once more and placed one in his outstretched hand. "Again. Who-"

"And that's my other question," she said. The filly slipped her wing back through the bars and slowly moved it toward him, testing the sense of touch on an appendage rarely used for the purpose. "Why do I have to concentrate on a fake identity while I'm doing this?"

"Hm. Simply put, it's because we don't have time to spare for an extended curriculum. You need to learn the art of theft so we can escape, and the presentation of a false identity for after we escape. And the time to practice the latter is not when you are first questioned by the authorities."

She shook her head, or at least moved it to the left a few times. "No, I mean why do I need to pretend to be somepony else to begin with?"

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Because you'll be a wanted criminal and don't want to get caught?"

"So? Nopony's gonna notice me as long as I don't cause a fuss. I'm good at talking my way out of things, and most ponies are pretty... um..." She waved her other wing vaguely.

"Oblivious?" he guessed.

"Actually, I was gonna say 'easy going', but... yeah, that too." The tip of her wing finally brushed against his hand, and she carefully moved her feathers across it, probing. "I kind of get the feeling you're overcomplicating things."

Several seconds passed before he replied. "That's... not impossible," he admitted grudgingly. "This is a much simpler world than I'm used to."

"Anyway," she continued, "I'm not the problem here. I'm just another filly, but you'll be the only centaur anyone's ever seen. And everypony's gonna remember Tirek. You'd get recognized for sure!"

"Certainly..." He held up a finger. "...if they saw me at all."

Cozy Glow craned her head back and gave him as much of a dubious stare as she could manage from that angle. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled a smile of smugness. "It just so happens, my dear Miss Glow, that concealment and disguise happen to be two of my many specialties."

"Oh, come on. You're bigger than most ponies, and you've got extra body parts and everything. There's no way you'd be able to fool anypony, unless you could... I dunno, turn invisible or shapeshift or something."

Spy gave a short laugh. "As a matter of-"

"But you said humans have hardly any magic, so that's obviously out," she continued absently, still focused on her task.

"...ah. Yes, that's true." He hadn't bothered to go into details about the tools of his trade, and educating her now would waste valuable time. It wasn't useful information here in any case. "Nevertheless, I believe-"

"I mean, you guys can't even move your own Sun. That's kinda pathetic, when you think about it."

He scowled. "Nevertheless, given that Tirek apparently stayed hidden for years using only a cloak and hood, I'm confident I can avoid detection for as long as necessary."

"And if you can't?" she persisted. "What kind of 'disguise' is going to convince anypony?"

Spy paused - his plans hadn't actually gotten that far - but rallied quickly. "I'm... sure I could pass as... an alpaca, or perhaps a moose. I would just need to conceal these arms and this rather scrawny torso in a long scarf or a turtleneck sweater."

Cozy Glow regarded him doubtfully. "That'd be one big turtle."

"...yes, well, the idea could possibly use some polish," he replied testily, "so staying hidden would be best. Which is why you need to practice pretending to be someone else. If we need something that I can't acquire myself, you'll have to be the one to get it."

Though she was losing ground, the filly was determined to fight to the bitter end. "I still don't see why I need to go through all this. Like you said, Tirek didn't have any trouble, and I'm pretty sure the two of us can do better than him."

He nodded once in acknowledgement. "Of that, I have no doubt. But there is one crucial difference between his situation and ours."

"...I get the feeling you're gonna tell me what it is, even if I don't ask."

"Tirek," said Spy, ignoring this, "only had to worry about your Princesses and their guards trying to recapture him." He leaned a bit closer. "We will have Tempest."

Cozy Glow froze for a moment, her jaw slowly dropping open. "...oh." He watched as she processed this, her mind's eye predicting Tempest Shadow's reaction when the pair of miscreants escaped the inescapable prison under her very nose. Snout? Whatever. "Oh, moltfeathers," she whispered. "She's gonna flip. She's gonna go completely lunar."

He gave her a mirthless smile. "Precisely. And, bearing that in mind...?" He held out his hand, pebble resting invitingly in his palm.

For a moment, the filly still seemed to want to argue, but couldn't find the right words to do so. Eventually she gave up, and with a small sigh returned to the ready position. "Mah name," she said, with a noticeable but not overbearing accent, "is Chessie Mae from San Anponyo. Ah've come here with mah parents ta-"

Better, Spy decided. Which meant he could up the ante. "That pegasus is a spy!"

She stopped. "Wait, what? Huh? What's going on?"

"The Chessie Mae persona has been compromised," he explained. "You must switch to another identity to avoid detection. Quickly, now; the authorities could be here any minute."

Cozy Glow stared at him in disbelief. "...seriously?!" she said finally. "That's not fair!"

"The filly that tried to destroy Equestria is worried about fairness?" he jeered. "The clock is ticking, Miss Glow! Dépêchez-vous! Who are you?"

She growled in frustration, then closed her eyes, her mind racing. "Uh... I'm... hold on, let me think..."

"The Palace Guard is just around the corner! Who are you?"

Cozy Glow took a long breath, trying to calm herself. "I'm..."

"Hoofsteps in the hall, a knock on the door!" Spy shouted gleefully. "Who are-"

"Mah name," she suddenly interrupted, in the most ridiculously overblown French - or, he supposed, Prench - accent he'd ever heard, "ees Ivoree TowAIR, and how dare vous eenterrupt moi een mah own bouffant!"

He stared at her, somewhat aghast. "...perhaps... perhaps you meant... boudoir?"

"NON!" She managed the difficult task of looking down at him from a position three feet closer to the ground. "Do not presume to correctement moi een mah nayTEEVE tongue!" The way she pronounced 'tongue' was... indescribable. "Vous are just a seemple uncultured policepony peasant! Quoi would vous know about le langage de l'armoire?!"

Before she could continue, the wingtip of the newly christened Ivory Tower found the pebble it sought, and the fingers around it were loose, leaving it unprotected. "Hah! Le yoinque!" She slipped a feather underneath it and pulled it out, though the unpracticed motion sent the pebble to the ground. "Rats. Let me try that again."

There was no response, and she twisted her head to look up at him. He was completely motionless, with his eyes closed and his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. "Um... Spy? You okay?"

Silence reigned.

"...Spy?"

Several more seconds passed, then he inhaled slowly. "It has been a pleasure working with you, Miss Glow," he said quietly, resolutely. "I wish our partnership could have lasted longer, but now I must throw your cage into the abyss. Nothing personal, I assure you. I simply cannot let..." He shuddered. "...what just happened, happen again."

Cozy Glow stared at him, then broke into a wicked grin. "Oh," she began, resuming the exaggerated accent, "did vous not enjoy mon falcon de parkour?"

"Façon de parler," he groaned.

"Hon hon hon! To zink that ze mighty Spy may be brought low avec just a soup sun of ovairacteeng!"

"Miss Glow, I beg of you. Stop this blasphemy at once!" As she cackled at his discomfort, Spy stared at the bars of his cage in blank-eyed horror. "You have not only butchered my mother tongue, but trimmed it, chopped it, combined it with various unsavory organs and hairy bits, shoved it into a grinder, squeezed it into casings, fried it, and sold it to British soccer hooligans who will inevitably vomit it back up behind the pub."

"...I'm guessing that's a meat thing," she said, dropping the accent, "in which case: gross. But you gotta admit, it'd be hard for your average policepony to handle something like that. I'm better at making ponies like me, but if I want them to just leave me alone, I can just beat them over the head with Prench attitude."

He glowered at her. "Provided you don't meet anyone fluent in the language," he said, knowing it was a feeble defense. "You can't possibly engage in actual conversation like that."

"Ehn, Prance is a long way off," she responded, waving this away, "and most ponies never travel further than the inside of their own heads."

"...something both our worlds have in common, then," he reluctantly admitted.

The filly took flight, hovering as close to his eye level as she could manage within the confines of her cage. "I keep telling you, Spy. I can handle other ponies. Tempest's a special case, but I guarantee I can outmaneuver anypony she sends after us. And if she catches us herself, we're doomed anyway." He continued to scowl, and she gave him an apologetic smile. "Besides... you just said I should be outrageous, right?"

He maintained the glare for a moment, then sighed and held up his hands in surrender. "All right, Miss Glow. Your point has been made."

"Good." Satisfied, she landed and slid her wing between the bars once again. "Now let's practice this bit some more. I see how pretending to be somepony else could be useful later, but this is the part that'll actually help right now. The Plan, remember?"

"Quite so," he said solemnly, collecting more pebbles. "The Plan."

He supposed he should think of one fairly soon.

What were his options, really?

Cozy Glow was an insistent proponent of the "confess everything" tactic. Spy had attacked Princess Luna, yes, but the filly was certain that, if he just explained his situation, she would forgive him and he would be set free. They would probably even try to help him return to his own body on Earth; he still doubted it was... 'fit for use' at this point, to put it gently, but Cozy Glow had a surprising amount of faith in Tirek's ability to survive.

He had firmly shot this idea down. Even if it were possible to send him back, even if the Princesses didn't decide that this was all just one of Tirek's tricks, and even if Luna forgave him, there was still the matter of her sister: Princess Celestia, the mare whose favorite activity seemed to be sentencing anyone who displeased her to a thousand years of captivity. Was he expected to subject himself to the whims of a creature that would put a child in a maximum security prison? No, clearly not. If, in the future, he needed to interact with her, then so be it... but it would be from a position of strength, not weakness. A little blackmail material or some strategically placed explosives would do the trick, and he suspected it would be remarkably easy to collect a few hostages if the need were to arise. Either way, it meant escaping this wretched place first.

(Of course, that was only part of the reason, and not the largest part at that. But he had no intention of letting her know this just yet.)

Even so, there was a limit to how much of a long-term strategy he could devise. Despite everything he'd learned from Cozy Glow, the world beyond Tartarus' gates was largely a mystery to him; once they escaped, they would have to find someplace to lay low and explore their options. It was impossible, therefore, to come up with a Plan, or even much of a plan, but the establishment of short term goals was certainly within reason.

Goal one: free Cozy Glow from her cage. Ideally, free them both, but... one step at a time. The presence of a lock on the filly's cage told him two things. First, that she was intended to be released at some point - his own cage, tellingly, lacked any such device, or indeed any visible means of opening - which had led him to slightly upgrade his opinion of Celestia. Apparently she wasn't fully committed to keeping the girl locked in Tartarus forever, he had to give her that much.

And the second thing was that the existence of a lock, magical or no, implied the existence of a key.

Here, he had to admit, Spy was on less stable ground than he'd like; magic was, by its very nature, illogical, and the key could be anything. But according to Cozy Glow, she had been locked in her cage by normal guards - pegasi, specifically - who did not have magic of their own, and Tempest apparently lacked the abilities of other unicorns. He just had to work under the assumption that a lock intended to be used by normal ponies would have a key to match, rather than an unlocking spell or other nonsense.

Then there was the issue of the location of the key, and here again was a necessary stab, as it were, in the dark. Tempest habitually wore clothes, which was apparently unusual among ponykind. This, at least, worked in his favor; she would be more likely to carry the key on her person given the options clothing provided, and she seemed the type that would do so to keep it safe. By necessity, it would have to be somewhere on her body that she could reach with her mouth, which excluded an uncomfortably small number of possibilities. He'd just have to keep his eyes open.

Once the key was located, it would be up to him to distract Tempest while Cozy Glow attempted to swipe the key. Doing it the other way around would have been ideal - hands, after all - but there was no conceivable way Tempest wouldn't be fully on guard against such a maneuver. She had been watching "Tirek" like a hawk during their previous encounter, and was far too shrewd to let him get his hands anywhere near her. Thus, Cozy Glow needed to learn the basics of the pickpocket's art, and learn them quickly. They couldn't know how much longer Tempest would remain in Tartarus; they had to escape before she returned to Canterlot, or else be forced to wait another few "moons" before their next attempt. Spy was never a fan of a long incarceration.

Goal two: maintain the Tirek façade; the longer they thought he was Tirek, the less they would expect it when it came time to act like himself. This, at least, was comparatively simple, and was a task he was supremely suited for. It wasn't as if Tirek had any close friends that would notice any unusual mannerisms, although - and Cozy Glow had been very apologetic about forgetting to mention this - there was every chance that Tempest had twigged onto his failure to demand she recognize Tirek's title. The damage was done. He would just have to continue as he'd started, patching it up as he went.

This didn't just apply to Tempest, however. He strongly suspected that Luna would pay him a visit while he slept and would be looking for her attacker, ready to dish out some payback. But he wasn't too concerned. Now that he had a better idea of how dreams worked in this world, he was confident that he'd be able to convince the Princess that he was, in fact, Tirek and had no idea what had happened the previous night. And if he couldn't... well. He had a few ideas how to handle that little eventuality.

Goal three: escape Tartarus. And perhaps build a spaceship out of granola while they were at it.

There was still too little information to even theorize about this. How did Tempest open the doors? A simple handle or lever was highly unlikely, this being a prison and all. The doors were much too far away to see any details, which made freeing Cozy Glow a higher priority. He could technically drag his cage all the way down there, but he could barely lift it, and those stairs did not look inviting. One false move and he could tumble into the murky depths, and he was not at all keen to test the cavern's healing capabilities in this fashion. Once out of her cage, Cozy Glow could take a closer look and report back. He was hoping for a mechanical locking system - he knew quite well how to handle those - but did not feel very optimistic on that score.

And what about Cerberus? Well, perhaps he was a concern, and perhaps not. Cozy Glow was certain he'd be an obstacle to any escape attempt, but Spy privately felt that any guard dog that fraternized with the prisoners it was guarding had not been trained very well. Then again, the hound was clearly more intelligent than a normal dog, so perhaps it wasn't an issue of training. Something to keep in mind, at least.

Regardless, and pending further information, the (extremely) tentative plan was to steal the key, free Cozy Glow, determine how the doors were opened, then in the morning send Tempest on another errand and make their escape while she was gone.

It was a bad plan, and a vague plan, and would likely be foiled by circumstances before it ever got off the ground. Still, for someone presented with the grand strategy of "move forward and kill everyone you see wearing a blue uniform" so wearily often, it was rather refreshing. Something to get the mind working after stagnating in mediocrity for so long. He was almost - almost - looking forward to putting it into action.

If only to see how badly it would fail.

Tempest's return was heralded by a bark from Cerberus that echoed across the cavern, soon followed by a sliver of light as the doors opened. Spy let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground, then lifted his cage and frantically moved it back to its original position. He paused briefly, however, and peered at the column of sunlight. It was... brighter than he'd expected? He was sure Tempest had been gone for at least an hour, but the sun didn't seem any closer to setting. But then, this wasn't Earth. Perhaps days were longer here.

Or perhaps, he thought grimly, Celestia held the entire planet hostage, moving the sun according to her own sinister agenda. He imagined entire countries left in perpetual darkness due to some imagined slight; crops withered and blighted in the eternal gloom, all according to the alicorn's deep-seated need for revenge and retribution.

("Princess, I know you want to let your sister rest, but it's well past time for-"

"Why, Raven, I have no idea what you're talking about. Sun-lowering will come in due course, but first it's important that I... um..." The ignition of a magical field. "...review this..." A desperate rustling of paper. "...trade proposal from Griffonstone! Yes. Vitally important."

"Really. The one that starts with explicitly demanding, and I quote, 'Give us all your bits,' and continuing on in a similar fashion from there. For three dozen scrolls. Plus amendments. Vitally. Important."

"...yyyyyyyes."

A long-suffering sigh. "...whatever you say, your Highness.")

Then again, he shouldn't judge. It's what he would do in her place.

But this was not the time to get distracted. He moved his cage back into place and carefully set it down, then looked over at Cozy Glow. The filly's expression was one of concentration as she flapped her wings industriously, redistributing the dust on the floor to hide any evidence of activity. Once satisfied, she raised her head and nodded at him. "Ready," she whispered.

He nodded in return, then took and held a deep breath. For Goal Two to succeed, presentation of an authentic Tirekian disposition was paramount, and the concern he had expressed for Cozy Glow had likely raised Tempest's suspicions. He had to blunt them quickly.

He waited until the tiny equine figure appeared in the doorway, carefully assumed the Tirek persona... then began to shout. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?!"

"I'LL SPEAK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT!" Cozy Glow shot back, the grin on her face belying her angry tone. "I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THIS FROM AN OLD HAS-BEEN LIKE YOU!"

"HAS-BEEN?!" He reached up and mimed shaping his own mouth into a frown. "Stay in character," he whispered, then raised his voice again. "YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE URCHIN! YOU WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN ANYWHERE NEAR AS FAR AS YOU DID WITHOUT MY HELP!"

The filly nodded and assumed a scowl of her own. "HAH! I WOULD'VE FIGURED SOMETHING OUT! YOU WERE JUST CONVENIENT!"

"IF YOU THINK SUCH A WRETCHED, INSUFFERABLE WORM LIKE YOURSELF COULD-"

"Hey, hey, HEY!" Tempest appeared at the top of the stairs, glaring at the 'arguing' prisoners. She took deep lungfuls of air, recovering from her rapid climb, but her gaze was no less stern. "What in thunder is going on up here?"

"Tempest!" Cozy Glow's manner immediately swapped from angry villainess to frightened filly. "Please protect me from the big mean centaur!"

"Oh, please," Spy growled, rolling his eyes theatrically.

The girl's tearful expression would have been heartwrenching to anyone with an ounce of compassion... or who didn't know Cozy Glow for what she really was. Tempest Shadow was unmoved, unamused and unimpressed. "All right," she sighed, approaching the smaller cage and looking down at the filly, "what's this all about?"

Left flank, no, Spy noted, his gaze flicking from one part of Tempest's anatomy to another. Hind legs, no. Right flank... can't tell in this position...

The pegasus pouted and sniffled. "Golly, he's just being so mean to me, all because I tattled on his little escape plan! He says he's gonna obliterate me!" Her eyes grew huge and wet, trembling ever so slightly. "I'm so scared!"

Tempest responded with a look that suggested someone had performed a particularly foul bodily function quite nearby. "Yeah, see, I don't actually care if you two-"

"Don't listen to her!" Spy interrupted hotly. "She is full of lies! And insolence."

"Am not!" Cozy Glow shot back.

The mare gritted her teeth for a moment. "And now I'm a fohlengarten teacher, apparently," she muttered before turning around. "Tirek, what do you want?" Behind her, Cozy Glow began her own visual search.

"Well, I just want to make it clear," he said primly, "that I have no intention of..." He made air quotes around the next word with the smug satisfaction of being the only creature in the room capable of such a feat. "'obliterating' her just because she ratted me out..."

"I don't care...!"

"...but rather because she's incapable of following clearly written instructions!" he concluded, glaring at Cozy Glow.

"ExCUSE me?!" the filly shouted indignantly. Tempest, for her part, seemed to be deeply regretting coming back to Tartarus at all.

"Well, clearly you did something wrong," Spy said. "My spell was perfect! You must have gotten the magic all dirty!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you aren't as clever a wizard as you think you are! You pretty much only ever used the magic you stole for getting huge and blowing up libraries! What do you even know about escape spells?"

"I know enough to make your heart escape from your stupid chest, you obnoxious little brat!" he snarled.

"Just try it, you crusty old creep!"

As they pressed against the bars of their cages and reached for each other's throats, hands and hooves flailing ineffectually in the air, Tempest decided that she'd had enough. "Knock it off!" she bellowed. "Break it up! Both of you!"

"But she-!"

And there Tempest was, right in his face with - oh, yes, Cozy Glow did mention this - electricity sparking from her broken horn. "I said drop it."

He glared back at her, gripping the bars. "I could destroy you," he growled.

The mare quirked an eyebrow. "Just try it, you crusty old creep," she said, softly echoing Cozy Glow. "I'll throw down if you've got the..." She glanced at the filly. "...stomach for it." Then she paused. "Oh, wait. You can't, can you? No magic. No brute strength. Just one antique centaur trapped like a rat."

Spy glowered at her, then looked away.

Tempest laughed once, quietly. "I thought so. Besides," she added, taking a few steps back, "that's no way to talk to the pony that brought your dinner." She twisted her head around to her left side, dipping into a bag hanging from a strap laid across her back - saddlebags, he realized - and pulled out a bundle of newspaper. Handling it (mouthing it?) with only faintly visible distaste, she tossed the bundle at his feet; it unrolled, revealing what appeared to be a large and healthy fish.

He looked down at it, prodded it with a finger, then furrowed his brow. "Raw?" Not that he was any stranger to sushi, but he doubted it was a local delicacy.

She feigned concern, poorly. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just so forgetful. Let me get that for you."

The slight menace in her tone caught his ear, and Spy managed to pull away just in time to avoid the bolt of electricity that lanced into the fish. After several seconds of blinding light he uncovered his eyes, half-expecting to see a charred lump on the floor, and was surprised to see the fish steaming gently before him; judging on sight and smell alone, it seemed perfectly cooked.

He looked at her in surprise. "A trick I learned in the Storm King's army," Tempest said dismissively. "I'm sure it doesn't measure up to the standards of the mighty Tirek, so if you want me to just throw it out...?"

Spy met her gaze defiantly, but his eyes kept flickering to the fish, pride clearly battling against hunger. "...I've had worse," he said finally, pulling both it and the newspaper into his cage. In the process, he surreptitiously glanced at Cozy Glow, who shook her head. Drat. No sign of the key yet. Well, nothing for it but to keep looking.

Nevertheless, he found he was quite enjoying himself. He so rarely got the chance to use his full range of impersonation skills; the disguise kit was a bit too useful on that score, and his opponents too dim to make it worth the effort. Unlike them, Tempest was a higher caliber of foe, well deserving of his complete repertoire. And he was particularly proud of that face off at the end. Clearly not something a simple impostor would do, was it? All very natural, very in character for an imprisoned megalomaniac like Tirek. Tempest was clever, oh yes, but after a performance like that she would be none the wiser.

While he was patting himself on the back (another activity that was his alone), the mare in question turned her attention to the other cage. "Now, what do I have for a good little filly...?" Cozy Glow perked up, eyes fixed on the other saddlebag Tempest wore. (No saddle, though. A mystery, but likely a pointless one.)

And if nothing else, his furious argument with the filly should have completely demolished any suspicion Tempest might have had about-

"...although..."

Spy looked up sharply to see Tempest pull her muzzle away from the saddlebag, a white paper sack just visible inside. She considered Cozy Glow thoughtfully. "...you aren't exactly a good little filly, are you?" she mused.

"N-no, I've been good," the pegasus stammered. She kept glancing at the paper bag, and unlike Spy her desire for what it contained wasn't just an act. "I told you what Tirek was planning, didn't I?"

"But you wouldn't be getting dinner if he hadn't pressured me into it," Tempest pointed out, her voice soft and oh-so-reasonable. He saw her ears twitch in his direction. "And after that little... disagreement, I think he should get the chance to change his mind." She turned again, crystal blue eyes fixed on Spy's impassive expression. "How about it... Tirek? Does the 'wretched, insufferable worm' get to eat? Truth be told, I'm kind of hungry myself..."

He wanted to laugh in her face. Take it, then, his instincts wanted him to say. Eat it right in front of her! Show her what it means to defy her benefactor! Such an obvious trap! If Tempest thought she could break his cover like this, she was going to be-

"Hmph! Do as you please. I couldn't care less."

Who said that?

...

...he said that? Why?! What kind of idiocy could have made him-?!

"Really," Tempest said quietly, stepping closer; behind her, Cozy Glow lunged for the saddlebag but was much too far away to claim her prize. "Now, y'see, that's strange. Just a minute ago you were threatening her with something just horrible, and now you're okay with giving her dinner?" She stopped a few feet away, watching him closely. "That's not like you... Tirek."

For that matter, it wasn't like Spy, either. (Fool! Amateur!) But he could unpack that later; focus on the issue at hand. "You know nothing about me, Berrytwist," he said with a scowl. "Don't pretend otherwise. You were off serving the Storm King during my invasion, weren't you? And now you're Celestia's hired muscle!" He sneered at her. "That doesn't make sense either, now does it?"

He saw her falter, but only for an instant; the hesitation was quickly replaced by anger. "I'm not-"

"Besides," he said, interrupting as faint inspiration struck, "it's not like it's some kind of secret plot. It's just that the brat has been nattering on about her precious hayburgers since you left. I would rather not spend the next thousand years listening to her complain about that one time I kept them from her."

She scoffed at this. "You don't seriously expect me to believe that, do you?"

"No, he's right," Cozy Glow interjected. "I'd totally do that. Can I have my dinner now, please?"

Spy made a sweeping 'well, there you are' gesture toward the other cage. "You're welcome to waste my time with these pointless questions, but could you at least do it after we eat?"

Tempest glared at him for long seconds, then the tension slowly left her. "...yeah. Okay." She turned away and dipped her head into her saddlebag, then tossed the paper sack toward the other cage. "Here you go, kid. Enjoy."

Cozy Glow nearly tore the bag apart in her eagerness, and with both hooves lifted... a collection of dried grass and flowers, apparently. In a bun. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

Spy made a deliberate sound of disgust and turned around in his cage before kneeling down, pulling his new acquisitions in front of him. Watching an equine face eat would make him lose his appetite as much as... well, as much as watching him eat would bother an obligate herbivore, most likely. Not, of course, that he did it for her sake. Of course.

Besides, he wanted a bit of privacy. He had important self-recrimination to work through.

What had he been thinking, giving up the game so easily? He was a murderer by trade, a killer in the coldest blood! It should have been the easiest thing in the world - in either world - to 'betray' Cozy Glow! She was smart, and knew the stakes here. She would have understood. And it wasn't as if she would have gone hungry; the magic of Tartarus saw to that, and despite Tempest's posturing he was highly confident she would have given the filly her meal, regardless of how he answered. Why, then, had he-

(Silently laughing at Tempest's question, Spy had glanced at Cozy Glow, expecting to see her share in his amusement.

He didn't see amusement. He saw desperation, and worry, and a longing hope that he wouldn't take from her the first taste of food she'd have in God knew how long.

He saw...)

Spy shook his head. Focus. Assess the situation. Yes, the attempt to throw Tempest off the scent had failed, but not in a way that had significantly changed their circumstances. She was clearly still suspicious, but could not be any closer to finding out who was currently inhabiting Tirek's body. This was simply... a bump in the corridor, nothing more. His opponent would be more alert, but he wasn't on fire... yet. He would just have to be more cautious from now on.

Nevertheless, he mused, the mishap had quite dulled his appetite. The fish had seemed tantalizing before, and even now sliced into flaky goodness under his claws, but it tasted of ashes in his-

There was the sound of enthusiastic chewing behind him. "Mmmf. That's good hay."

...well. Maybe the fish was still pretty tasty after all.

What happened to all that magic?

It was a question that the wizards and thaumaturgists in Canterlot hadn't gotten around to asking quite yet, which would win them a stern royal dressing-down a few days later. But it obviously wasn't a priority, was it? Cozy Glow's ritual had siphoned nearly all the magic in Equestria into a vortex, and when it was disrupted the magic just... came back. No harm, no foul, right?

On the face of it, yes, but the hypothesis ignored a crucial fact: the presence in the vortex of one Starlight Glimmer (and, eventually, six students of varied species). Magic is slippery stuff and does not like to be measured at the best of times, but given that even artifacts had been drained of their energy, the amount of magic in the vortex would have been frighteningly high. Yet Starlight and the students suffered no ill effects; they didn't even experience a heightened surge of magic in their own systems, when by all rights they should have (in accordance with Starswirl's Fourth Rule of Thaumodynamics) temporarily been given alicorn-like powers, or at the very least gotten destroyed in a very un-family friendly manner. Clearly, then, the amount contained in the vortex was less than the amount it had drained.

So where did it go? In the aftermath of what would be filed as the Tartarus Incident, Princess Twilight Sparkle (who was currently enjoying a few extra hours of daylight reading; she had not yet realized that dusk was long overdue) would speculate that the so-called magical vortex was merely the entrance of an interdimensional funnel, a swirling mystical tendril creeping through the aether. The funnel would draw in much of the magic that entered the vortex, ready to deposit the energy it held as soon as the ritual was complete. Even so, it would have had limited capacity; once it made contact with the destination realm, a certain amount of magic would have inevitably leaked through, held as a semi-coherent mass around the contact point until it was released... or, in this case, withdrawn. When the ritual was disrupted, very nearly all of it was returned to Equestria.

Very nearly.

Because when the magic was drawn back through the vortex, trace amounts of Equestrian magic had been left behind in that other realm like droplets in an emptied bucket. There it had sat waiting, and while it remained the funnel could never fully close. The two realms stayed connected by a tenuous thread, just barely large enough for (to pick a hypothetical example at random) a centaur to force his mind through. Over time, this residue had accreted, drawing together into a bulbous cloud of pink and yellow light, gently pulsating.

Equestrian magic could be considered, under certain circumstances, to be alive and possibly even slightly intelligent. The cloud was much too small to fully meet the right criteria; comparatively, it was a mere clump of moss, reacting to stimuli and little more. As far as it was aware of anything, it knew it wasn't where it should be, but there didn't seem to be anything it could do about it so that was that. It didn't know it was in some kind of underground building, or that its surroundings were warm, or dry, or dark. It just waited: unfeeling, unthinking, unknowing.

It definitely didn't know it was surrounded by a staggering amount of high explosives, which was probably for the best.

Author's Note

I planned this chapter to be somewhat longer, but I feel like this is a good stopping point, and I've gone long enough without posting as it is. The next one will contain the promised cringe.

You want to be MY friend?! Earn it!

Eventually, he would forgive her. It wasn't her fault. Cozy Glow had done her best to inform Spy on how matters stood in Equestria, but the one thing she missed was so natural, so basic, that she hadn't even considered including it in her explanation. It would have been like explaining sunlight, or breathing. It wasn't anything unusual to her. It just happened.

It was going to happen in forty seven minutes.

The newspaper was exactly as boring as he'd expected it to be. Spy was sure that the reporters for the... oh, God, the Boopingham Snoot ("We've Got a Nose for News!") did their best, but everything was candyfloss and rainbows in Equestria. No wars, no assassinations, no internal strife that couldn't be resolved in half an hour. It was revolting. If he did end up living in this world, he'd have to do everyone a favor and give them some real news.

(The fact that he could even read the paper was only slightly interesting. He'd suspected that whatever enchantment allowed him to understand the local language might extend to the written word as well. If he concentrated, he could see the meaningless (to him) squiggles that were actually printed on the page; otherwise, they registered in his mind as English. But why English, and not French? As he often did in such circumstances, he blamed Canadians. Not any particular Canadians, just Canadians in general.)

But at the moment, the newspaper was just a prop, something for his eyes to focus on while his mind turned over a larger problem. One with purple fur and a broken horn.

How should he handle Tempest Shadow? It pained him to admit it, but he'd underestimated the mare, and badly at that. Was he getting sloppy in his old... no longer quite so young age? Perhaps. Working the Mann account for so long probably had something to do with it; it was easy to stop thinking about the consequences of failure when the Medic's strange science could erase them in a matter of moments. Of course, that carried its own risks. Spy had once spent a horrific three days physically grafted to the Demoman because, in Medic's words, 'zere veren't enough kidneys to go around'. And then there was the time he'd run out of smokes and was scrounging in the infirmary (because you never knew) and tucked in the back of a cabinet he found...

Spy shuddered at the memory. So many severed Scout heads. And he knew they weren't Soldier's property, because they were still talking. Incessantly.

Focus. He had to come up with a new angle of attack, and to make matters worse he couldn't coordinate with Cozy Glow. He would just have to trust that she'd follow his lead. Even though... well, the pegasus still thought that coming clean was the way to go, and didn't seem to find his rejection of that plan very convincing. 'Just tell Tempest who you really are,' she'd said, 'and the Princesses would definitely try to send you home! They're easy marks for a hard luck story.'

And why not? asked a little voice in his head. Even you aren't so proud as to refuse help from royalty, and it may be your best chance to-

He firmly throttled the voice until its struggles ceased. No. That was the one option he would never take...

A purple hoof abruptly inserted itself at the top edge of the newspaper and pulled down. Spy roused himself from his introspection and met Tempest's gaze impassively. "Finished yet?" she asked, just a bit too politely.

He glanced down at his dinner. It was a large fish, even for a stomach that hadn't been fed in at least a few years, and there was still a fair amount remaining. Clearly the fish had lasted longer than Tempest's patience. "I suppose so," he said with Tirek's voice, though he didn't put the newspaper down; an act of minor defiance that did not escape Tempest's notice. "But I still don't see what you're hoping to accomplish. I have nothing to hide." He gestured at his cage. "My life is literally open for review."

She snorted. "You can drop the act, Tirek. I know you're up to something..."

He responded with a gasp and a wide-eyed expression of shock and dismay, pressing a hand to his chest at this vicious slander.

"...I'm just not sure what," Tempest continued, ignoring this. Her tone was soft, musing over the puzzle he was giving her to solve. "Even after you bungled whatever you were trying to do, are you still plotting to break out of here? Or do you have something else in mind? For all I know, sending me to get food was part of your 'master plan'."

Spy laughed at this. "Oh, yes. I'm going to escape this inescapable prison using a stained newspaper, a half-eaten fish and..." He cast around for a moment, but there really wasn't anything else but dust and small rocks.

"You can have the thistles off my hayburger," Cozy Glowed offered from behind him. "I don't like thistles."

"Eat your thistles," he said absently. "They're good for you."

"And that's the other thing," Tempest said, pouncing on his words. "Why are you so concerned about what's 'good' for Cozy Glow?"

"This again?" He rolled his eyes. "It's just an expression. You're imagining things."

"Am I?" she shot back. "You two went through that whole production just now to make me think you were literally at each other's throats, but at the last minute you couldn't go through with it, could you?" She circled around his cage again, stopping on the side facing the filly. "What's your angle, Tirek? You've never even pretended to care about her before. What's changed?"

"Nothing has changed, and I don't care about her," he snarled, though he carefully hid his rising concern. This was becoming rather dicey. Tempest was getting dangerously close to remembering the possibility that 'Tirek' might not be Tirek; she had mostly seemed to come to accept that he was the genuine article, but his slip-up earlier may have fractured the facade. Distract her, quickly. "Besides, what does it matter? What could I possibly be planning? I'm in a cage with no door. I used up the last of the magical residue on my previous attempt, and I'm hardly going to fight my way out, am I?" He gestured at his wizened, feeble body. "Not like this."

This made her pause, and she regarded him for a moment. "No... that's a fair point," she admitted, still frowning.

And then Tempest's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and her head subtly changed positions. Her jaw twitched as she started to speak but stopped, still staring at him. Nearly imperceptible motions, but to an expert in the art of reading body language (even if the body in question was a different form than he was used to) they added up to one thing: she'd come to a realization, and was working out how best to act on it. Spy found himself tensing up, and redoubled his efforts to hide it.

"...in fact," she said finally, "the only other thing I can think of... is if you were planning to outsmart me." She moved closer, her snout mere inches from the bars. "You might be plotting to outwit or distract me somehow. Maybe you've got something worked up with the kid while my back is turned." Her eyes blazed into his. "Is that the plan, Tirek? Are you going to try to trick little ol' me?"

He didn't dare look away, though he was sorely tempted. She was uncomfortably close, in more ways than one. Close enough to snap her neck? his inner assassin suggested, but he pushed the urge down. He'd been frank about the nature of his profession, but brutally murdering someone in front of Cozy Glow would likely put something of a stain on their relationship. Besides, it was a rather thick neck.

Before he could formulate a response, however, Tempest gave a short laugh and took a step back. "Oh, who am I kidding? You'd never be able to pull off something like that anyway."

The tension drained away (but even that had to be kept hidden) and Spy lifted his newspaper again. "Yes, y-" He stopped as her words lined up and presented themselves for his inspection. "Wait. What's that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, I mean, let's be real here. You may be the big, bad archvillain," she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, "but when it comes to subtle? Oh, honey... you ain't it."

He stared at her, outrage rising in a scarlet tide. His training told him to hold back his emotions, that it was good Tempest was no longer on the verge of realizing what their plan was, that she was aiming the barb at Tirek, not him... but his emotions pointed out that Tirek would react the exact same way and how dare she?! "You couldn't hope to comprehend my subtlety," he growled menacingly. "In case you've forgotten, I conquered this miserable land of yours!"

"Oh, yeah, like that's a high bar these days," she said, unconcerned. "And how did you do it? By draining the magic from everypony, getting big, and basically stomping around knocking things over. Not really the sign of a strategic genius there, is it?"

"Mmm, she has a point," Cozy Glow noted.

Spy glowered at her. "You stay out of this!"

"Face it, Tirek," continued Tempest, "you're a thug, not a planner. I mean, you teamed up with Discord. Discord!"

It was a good thing he'd memorized the details of Tirek's invasion. "Only to betray him later!"

"Yeah, but still," said the filly, making a face. "Discord."

"And come to think of it," Tempest drawled, "why am I even talking to you? I should be talking to the real brains of this operation." With that, she turned and walked over to the other cage.

Spy couldn't stop himself. "Her?! But... she's just a foal!"

While Cozy Glow shot him a glare that said 'I know you're just playing the part, but watch it', Tempest gave him a knowing smirk over her shoulder. "A foal that just about managed what you did, without having all your power and experience. Or, for that matter, her own private army, shadow crystals, or the ability to warp reality itself. Honestly, Tirek? She's a lot scarier than you are right now."

He found himself almost trembling in anger as she sauntered away from him. Of all the insolent, insulting, infuriating...

She glanced back again, and there was something... odd in her eyes. Something...

...deliberate.

He all but slapped his forehead. Of course. He should have realized; that had been her angle all along. She was trying to get Tirek angry enough to let slip details of his 'plan.' After all her earlier bluster, she was trying to outwit him! Or, rather...

And you nearly fell for it, the inner voice jeered. A trap not even aimed at you!

He silenced the voice again; there was no time for that. Tempest was expecting a reaction from him - from Tirek - and if Spy didn't anticipate what she was looking for, she would grow suspicious. He had to maintain his cover...

...no. That was the wrong decision, he realized, or at least it was insufficient. Just staying in character wasn't going to work anymore. Time was running out; if he didn't make progress soon, any chance they had for escape would vanish. You could stay cloaked in a corner of the enemy base all day long, but sooner or later you had to go out and stab someone.

(Thirty eight minutes.)

What to do, what to do... well, rant and bluster until an opportunity presents itself, that was always a solid tactic. "Don't you dare turn your back on me!" he shouted.

Even facing away from him, Spy could feel Tempest's smug expression as she came to a stop and looked down at the pegasus. "Hey there, Cozy. How was the hayburger?"

"Oh, it was so...!" She stopped, glanced at Spy, then visibly reigned in her delight. "Y'know. It was okay."

"Glad to hear it. Maybe we'll make this a regular thing."

Cozy Glow couldn't help but brighten up. "Can I get prench fries next time?"

"We'll see," the mare said in a placating tone. "If you're good, and don't try to conquer Equestria."

"Aw. Okaaaay."

"Don't talk to her!" Spy bellowed. "Tell her nothing!" When Cozy Glow looked at him, however, he flashed a wink and the briefest of nods. Keep her talking.

The filly's expression turned to one of annoyance so genuine that for a moment Spy thought she hadn't caught on. "Don't try to tell me what to do, Tirek," she snapped. "I can say whatever I want to say, to whoever I want!"

"Yeah, Tirek," Tempest said, grinning at him. "You don't control her. She's a free filly." She paused. "So to speak."

"That's none of-!"

"Oh, calm down," Cozy Glow said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I'm gonna tell her anything important. Fizzlepop might think a little sweet talk and a hayburger is enough to get me to spill the beans, but you at least should give me more credit than that."

It was... heartwarming to watch as Tempest realized what the pegasus was saying. She froze in place, her eyes widening even as they were dragged down to stare at the filly. "...uh..."

Now the smug was on the other hoof, and Cozy Glow was taking an absolutely infernal amount of enjoyment at Tempest's discomfort. "Golly, did I say the quiet part loud? C'mon, silly filly, I galloped rings around Headmare Twilight and all her besties without breaking a sweat. I saw what you were trying to do in a Manehattan Minute."

"I-I wasn't... I...!" Then Tempest gave up and, with a small and embarrassed laugh, held up a forehoof in surrender. "Okay, okay. You caught me. I guess you really are the smart one here."

Cozy Glow giggled. "Aw, you're just saying that because it's true."

Tempest looked down at the pegasus for a long moment, wearing an expression Spy could easily recognize at this point: the look of someone reconsidering their preconceptions about Cozy Glow. "Okay... how about a compromise, then? Was that hayburger enough to buy the details of the other plan? The one Tirek messed up before I got here? It couldn't hurt to tell me about that."

"Welllll..." She made a show of thinking it over. "I guess that'd be okay. What do you think, Tirek?"

"I will pluck your feathers one by one!"

"Sounds like a 'yes' to me!" she said brightly. "All right, Tempest, it's a deal. I don't know how much I can tell you, though. Apart from the ritual he taught me, I don't know anything about magic."

Tempest shook her head. "That's fine. I'll let the big brains in Canterlot figure out the actual spell he used. Just tell me what you remember."

"Fair enough." Cozy Glow sat down, and Tempest followed suit, folding her legs beneath her.

"Am... am I being ignored?" Spy-as-Tirek asked in simulated disbelief. "I'm being ignored! How dare-!"

"Oh, you're not being ignored, Tirek," said the pegasus without looking up. "We just don't care."

He poured as much shock and outrage into the single syllable as he could: "What?!"

"Hey, you had your chance to talk," Tempest noted. "Just sit over there and read your newspaper, and maybe I'll get back to you later. M'kay? M'kay."

He sputtered and growled for a time, but when it because clear they weren't going to respond, he let out a loud "Hmph!" and opened the newspaper once more, doing so as forcefully as possible to make it clear that, as Scout would put it, his 'jimmies' had been 'rustled'. As the two equines started to talk, there he sat: insulted, betrayed, and disrespected.

Perfect.

Not only had Cozy Glow diverted attention away from him, giving him a chance to plot his next move, but whichever of Tirek's post-escape 'plans' she gave away would amount to nothing more than some false leads for the authorities to follow when the two of them finally left Tartarus. All without more than the most basic of prompting. Of course, Tempest was willingly playing along as a part of her own ploy to infuriate Tirek, but even so the filly clearly had a knack for this.

What a tragedy, he thought (and not for the first time) that she'd been born a pony! If he'd met her as a human on Earth and seen the potential within her... well, there were any number of prestigious organizations that would pay top dollar for the chance to induct someone with such natural talent for deceit and manipulation into their ranks. Or perhaps even... no, he wasn't in a position to take on an apprentice of his own. Even if he were so inclined, the Mann account took up all of his time, and the contract was exceedingly ironclad.

But if he never returned to Earth...

Bah. No time for idle speculation now. How to turn the tables on Tempest's plan? He needed to find out if she was carrying the key, but she was so unflappable, every motion careful and deliberate. How could-

("And now you're Celestia's hired muscle!" He sneered at her. "That doesn't make sense either, now does it?"

He saw her falter, but only for an instant; the hesitation was quickly replaced by anger. "I'm not-")

...oh. Yes. Turnabout indeed. Anger was a double-edged blade, after all...

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He peered over the top of his newspaper to see Tempest looking uncharacteristically confused. "You mean both of you, right?"

"No, just him," Cozy Glow confirmed. "He said there wasn't enough power to teleport both of us, so he'd have to go first. Once he drained a few ponies and got his strength back, he was going to bring me through."

Tempest's body language did not so much say 'skeptical' as declaim an entire five-stanza poem on the subject. "And... you believed that?"

The filly's eyes went theatrically wide (though given their size, it was hard to tell). "Gosh, of course I did, Miss Shadow! I made him Pinkie Promise on it!"

Involuntarily, Spy's gaze went to his own hands. But... she doesn't have pinkies...?

To Spy's surprise, Tempest - while still appearing uncertain - was taking the claim seriously. "Uh... sure, usually that would do the trick, kid..."

...it would?

"...but I don't think the threat of a cupcake in the eye would bother someone like Tirek."

What?!

Then Cozy Glow giggled. "Naw, I'm just pulling your bridle. But I've gotten to know him these last few moons, and I was pretty sure he was on the level. He's nowhere near as good a fibber as I am, after all."

The mare still seemed unconvinced, but looked over at Spy. "How about it, Tirek? Were you really going to try to break in to Tartarus and get Cozy Glow out?"

Spy gave her a level look over his newspaper for several seconds before responding. He couldn't be sure how Tirek would have answered the question, but he could guess. "Now why," he asked, "would I ever do something like that?"

The filly laughed again and waved a hoof. "Oh, c'mon, Tirek. You know you promised that-"

"I would have said anything to get my hands on that magic you carried," he pointed out. "Once I'd escaped, there would have been no reason for me to risk my freedom for the sake of one mere child."

(Thirty one minutes.)

Cozy Glow's sudden expression of uncertainty was, he realized, wholly unfeigned. "B-but... you said I was part of your plan to retake Equestria. You said you needed me!"

He felt a pang of... was that guilt?! That seemed unfair. It wasn't his fault Tirek made promises he clearly never intended to keep, and Spy was only drawing on his best guess of Tirek's true motivation. Yet... he could see it was hurting her. What else could he do, though, with Tempest watching? "I admit your... adequate talents for planning would have been useful," he said, "but I'm sure I could have managed without them."

"Because that worked so well last time," Tempest murmured.

"So..." the filly said slowly, "you were never going to help me get out? You were just going to take the magic and... abandon me?"

"Obviously," he said, though every ounce of scorn he put into the word came at a cost.

"That's just what he's like," Tempest added, and she and Spy glared daggers at each other. "Why would you ever cover for someone like-"

"Yeah, I can see that."

Centaur and mare stared at each other a moment longer, then turned to look at Cozy Glow. "You can?" they said in unison.

"I mean, duh. Like Tirek said, it's obvious." The filly gently knocked her hoof against her temple. "Now that I think about it, it was kind of dumb of me. He's a villain. Of course he's gonna betray me for his own benefit; that's what villains do. I mean, it's only fair, really. I used him for my plan, and now he used me for his."

Spy and Tempest looked at each other once more, and there was a definite sense of fellow feeling in the latter's gaze. There was clearly something... off about the filly's worldview. "And... you're okay with that?" Tempest managed

Cozy Glow looked up at the cavern ceiling for a moment, thinking. "I'm not sure how else that could've gone," she admitted. "It's not like there were any other options, and I didn't have any real leverage to force Tirek to come back for me once I gave him the magic. I knew it was always possible he would break his word, but..." She shrugged. "What choice did I have? Either way, I'd still be sitting in this cage. At least there was a chance that he'd help me escape.

"Besides," she continued, looking at Spy, "we don't have to be nice to each other to be a... a team. We just need a common goal, and there's no point in pushing our allies under the train for no reason. If Tirek hadn't betrayed Discord, he'd probably still be ruling Equestria. I just feel like us villains should look out for each other; we're usually outnumbered, if nothing else."

'Us villains'. He started to reply, but Tempest seemed to be chewing over the pegasus' words as well; he remained silent. "So even after all this," she said finally, "after everything he just admitted, after he used you... you still trust Tirek. He took advantage of you, and you still trust him."

"'Trust' is a strong word," Cozy Glow mused. "But... I think I understand him. I can work with him." She glanced his way once more. "He just better not think he can pull the wool over my eyes again," she added sternly. Spy snorted and retreated behind the newspaper.

How odd, he thought. He could tell she was being... was probably being genuine (best not to underestimate her talent for guile again). She really did hold no grudge toward Tirek. Was it just the naivete of a child, or was there something more...?

Tempest stared down at Cozy Glow for a long moment, then shook her head roughly. "No."

"Huh?"

"No," she repeated, her tone sharp. "I still don't buy it."

Spy's eyebrows went up slightly. Well, well... what have we here?

"Don't buy... what?"

"This!" The mare pointed a hoof from one cage to the other. "You really expect me to believe it's all hunky-dory between you two, Cozy? That everything's all fine now, no hard feelings? I've been in your horseshoes myself. I know what it's like to get stabbed in the back! There's no way you'd just forgive him!"

The filly looked genuinely confused. "I never said I forgave-"

"No, there's something else going on here," Tempest insisted. "You two have been playing your little games since I got back, and I think this is just another trick you're trying to pull. It was cute for a while - both of you pretending to like each other, then hate each other, then like each other again - but it's gotten old. So just drop the act already!"

Fascinating. Perhaps this was another of Tempest's feints, but her outburst seemed real enough to him. Though he hadn't expected the mare to lose her temper so soon, and certainly not without his personal intervention, he was hardly the type to leave Dame Opportunity standing at the door when she came calling. Now was the time to strike; he just needed an opening.

(Twenty six minutes.)

Cozy Glow scowled, the accusations clearly getting on her nerves. "I'm telling you the truth!"

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe that?" Tempest scoffed. "From you, the filly who tricked an entire school? I don't think so."

All but forgotten, Spy held himself motionless, scarcely breathing as he listened. Any moment now...

"Are you kidding me?! If you can't trust what I say, then why are you even talking to me?"

"Because it's my job to-"

There! "Oh, yes," he said, injecting as much sneer into his voice as he possibly could. "Your precious job. Groveling at the hooves of yet another tyrant! Why change a winning formula, after all?"

Cozy Glow glanced at him with an expression of shock, but Tempest didn't so much as flick an ear. "Not in the mood, Tirek," she growled.

"What will be Celestia's penalty for failure, I wonder? I've always been a one-centaur operation, so I've never had any lackeys to discipline."

"I said drop it!"

"Well, I'm just curious," he said with false sincerity. "Will you be joining us in a cell of your own, or will you just be sent straight to the moon? After all, if it's good enough for her sister..."

Tempest held herself rigidly still. "I'm warning you...!"

"Um, Tirek," Cozy Glow said nervously, "maybe this isn't the best time to-"

Spy snapped his fingers. "Oh, I know! Maybe she'll turn you to stone! That would be nice and ironic, wouldn't it? I hear you were fond of that tactic, back in the day."

"...oh, moltfeathers, you're making it worse! What is happening right now?!"

The mare whirled around, rage and shame battling for supremacy behind her eyes. She stalked closer to his cage, every movement a declaration of war... then stopped and took a long breath. When she spoke, it was in a cold whisper, but the sparks leaping from her severed horn belied her true feelings. "No. You can't manipulate me like this, Tirek. I don't care what you say. I'm no lackey, and I'm not responsible for what Celestia's done. I'm doing the right thing."

"Oh, yes," he returned, "do keep telling yourself that." He regarded her for a moment, then reached out to grasp one last lever. "But you're right. You're no lackey. You're nothing."

She rolled her eyes at the weak insult and turned her back to Spy, a mistake previously made by so many corpses.

He lifted his gaze to the source of the sparks. "You're. Just. Broken."

All time stopped in the cavern, the only sound being the high-pitched, horrified creaking noise of Cozy Glow's intake of breath. Then-

He didn't see her move, and he'd been watching to see her move. Hooves struck iron, and suddenly he was in motion, the cage tumbling through the air toward the edge of the plateau. For a fraction of a second (which was all the time he had to react), he thought he'd miscalculated her reaction... but the cage struck one of the rocky outcroppings that surrounded them, and rebounded back onto solid ground. It rolled briefly before coming to a stop, leaving him sprawled on his backs with all four legs in the air. Dazed, he tried to reorient himself, but in an instant she was upon him: her hooves on his shoulders, blazing lights sputtering unchecked from her horn, and...

And a glint of metal suspended from a cord around her neck, partially dislodged from within her garment during the attack.

The key.

...well, he found it. Now all he had to do was survive the next few minutes...

"I'm going to make you regret that," she snarled. "I'll fry you so bad you won't wake up for another thousand years!"

He bared his teeth in response. "What a Celestia thing to say!"

"Oh, you are-!"

"Don't hurt him!"

Tempest whipped her head around. "Excuse me?!"

After a moment to let the dizziness pass, Spy followed suit and saw Cozy Glow, looking very small and alone, standing on her rear hooves and gripping the bars with the others. She was trembling in the face of Tempest's anger, but didn't back down. "...don't hurt him," she repeated quietly. "Please."

The weight left Spy's shoulders, and Tempest approached the filly in three quick steps. The electric display had died down a bit, but the mare was still a seething mass of rage. "You think I should just leave him alone? After that?!"

"Please. He... he doesn't deserve it."

Seconds ticked by, then gradually the falling sparks went out completely. Tempest tilted her head slightly as she regarded the filly. "...there are a lot of ponies out there who would disagree with you ," she pointed out, her expression unreadable.

"Yeah, well... they don't know him like I do. Please, Tempest. Just... let it go."

"...why?"

"He's just...!" Cozy Glow stopped for a long moment, then turned away. "He's not the monster you think he is. Just leave it at that. Okay?"

Spy's heart sank with dread. ...oh, no. It was just a simple phrase, and said with the best of intentions in order to protect him... but a clue, nevertheless. If the mare caught on...

Tempest continued to stare at the filly, brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape... then her eyes suddenly went wide, and with a barely audible gasp she turned to look at him in shock and disbelief.

Damn! He held his expression steady, unflinching. Whatever you're thinking, Miss Shadow, he mentally commanded, you're on the wrong track. Abandon this train of thought at once!

"No..." she breathed, her gaze moving to Cozy Glow and back to himself. "No, it can't be...!"

Well, the sudden development of telepathic powers had been a long shot anyway.

Spy watched silently as Tempest walked to the edge of the plateau, eyes fixed on nothing as her mind raced. He risked a glance at Cozy Glow; her attention was focused on him, trying to see if he'd been injured. She didn't even realize... no. Useless to cast blame at this point.

(Which was an odd thought, he would come to remember. He'd never hesitated to point fingers before, especially when the possibility existed that others would point them at him. Scapegoating was a fairly common pastime on the battlefield.)

He gave her a reassuring nod, then turned his gaze back to Tempest. The mare hadn't budged an inch, though he could see her jaw moving; talking to herself, it seemed, in tones too quiet to hear.

Well, that's it, the annoying inner voice noted. The jig, as they say, is up. A valiant attempt, but it's time to start planning to work with Tempest Shadow, rather than against her.

No. There had to be a way through this.

There's no stopping it. If she knows you're in Tirek's body-

She can't know. She can only suspect. We can still win this.

Fool. Optimist. What are you playing at? At this point, losing is better than winning! Just swallow your pride and-

But this wasn't about pride. It never had been. There were things more important than his own ego, and that was not something he admitted lightly.

No, if he had to be honest with himself - and that, too, required a certain mental effort - he had to acknowledge there was only one reason to keep going with the 'plan', to defy Tempest and the alleged good graces of Princess Celestia. It was a strange and surprising reason, a reason counter to everything he thought he knew about himself...

...yet somehow it was reason enough.

...fool. On your own head be it, then. Just don't be surprised when the purple horse decides to take her frustrations out on you in a more... procedural manner.

Torture? Unlikely. He may have gotten under her skin - hah, fur - but she hardly seemed the type to indulge in-

A sudden piercing whistle roused him from his inner monologue. "Cerberus!" Tempest shouted, without turning around. "Get up here!"

With an answering trio of barks and a clatter of paws, the massive hound loped up the narrow path and leapt onto the plateau. The tension in the air must have penetrated at least one canine skull, for he let out a confused whimper and looked to Tempest for instruction.

"I need to have a little chat with Tirek," she announced. "Take Cozy Glow's cage to one of the other 'cells'."

And then she moved her head slightly, aiming one baleful eye at him. "She doesn't need to be here for this."

(Eighteen minutes.)

Author's Note

Y'all. Y'all. I had to rewrite the first two thousand words of this chapter so many times. Even now, I'm not super happy with it, but it's what needs to be there to make things go along, so it'll have to do. And I'm chopping it into separate chapters again; it was going to be a ridiculous roller coaster, and I'm stalled again on part of it. I don't think I'll want to change what's in this chapter and it's been quite long enough of a wait, so here you go. Next chapter will be out... sooner than this one was. Probably.

BEFRIEND ME!

Tartarus.

Nearly as old as Equestria itself, it had long been a source of dread and rumor among the populace. There wasn't a pony in the land (save a select few) that didn't grow up with parental warnings about where they'd be sent if they didn't eat their thistles. The fact that it had been largely decommissioned and only held two prisoners now was not public knowledge; it would not do to let ponies know that the bugbears, cockatrices, and other dangerous beasts had been removed for rehabilitation, even if they were in the capable hooves of a certain yellow pegasus.

Like many places of high magical design, Tartarus had been envisioned and constructed by none other than that legendary unicorn, Star Swirl the Bearded. This also was not common knowledge, but it would come as no surprise to anyone who'd studied his works (even if he hadn't unexpectedly become available for comment). As was the case for most of his creations, it was the product of an overwhelming amount of magical skill and power.

And paradoxically, as was the case for most of his creations, it was also astoundingly lazy.

Need to incarcerate a single centaur (and, later, a selection of aggressive wildlife)? Build an unnecessarily huge prison with life-sustaining enchantments, throw him in, and basically forget about him! Are a trio of sirens causing havoc across the countryside? Send them to another dimension! Heck, just use the same spell to send away any problematic artifacts! Out of sight, out of mind! And if your trusted friend goes rogue, why, there's clearly nothing for it but to sacrifice yourself and your colleagues in a massively impressive banishment ritual. What's that? Talk to him first? Don't be ridiculous.

Because, similar to many other wizards across the multiverse, Star Swirl's firm unspoken belief was that when Could and Should crossed paths, Could was permitted to knock down Should and take its lunch money. 'Negotiation' and 'rehabilitation' were never words in his vocabulary (and this was unfortunately inherited by one of his most trusted students). As a result, while he studied and respected the power of Harmony, he never really understood Harmony.

Tartarus had a flaw. It was a flaw that Tirek had discovered during his centuries of imprisonment, but had been unable to exploit until very recently. It was a flaw that Twilight Sparkle had suspected deep down while she helped renovate the security measures, but hadn't truly examined out of devotion to her idol; this would soon change.

It was a flaw that, although he had no clue it even existed, Spy was about to take advantage of.

In a little over eighteen minutes.

Even now, years after her release, Luna's bedroom was still slightly musty. All of the lavender in the world couldn't completely banish the residual odor of a room sealed for centuries. Of course, she never mentioned this to her sister, accepting the situation instead as a minor form of penance.

The bed, at least, was brand new, or at least the mattress was. The frame had been lovingly restored by experts in the craft, every bit of ancient wood polished to a pristine alabaster glow. Which was actually something of an issue; she loved Celestia dearly, but considering where Luna had spent the previous centuries, she'd had... mixed feelings when her sister had proudly opened the door to reveal as ...

It was her bed. She'd recognized it instantly from the time before her incarceration. She couldn't possibly complain about the choice of decor. Yet it was still undeniably a bed in the shape of a crescent moon. A moon that would surround her, contain her every time she went to sleep. And Celestia had thought she was doing Luna a favor by restoring it.

This, too, was a penance.

Now she was not so much contained as entrenched within the unfortunate thing, wrapped in a protective cocoon of blankets. Nothing but her muzzle poked out from beneath the covers, nose and mouth her only connection to the outside world. Presently, she took the long, slow breath of one escaping their slumber... and then smiled.

The headache was gone! Mercifully, wonderfully gone. Luna's nap had done her a world of good, it seemed, and she lay in blissful relief.

That had definitely been an experience she didn't want to repeat. She'd never - never - been attacked in the Dream Realm, even back when... well, back when ponies had cause to resist her presence, to put it bluntly (and shamefully). Whoever she'd met in Tirek's dream, he'd used violence as if it was second nature to him. Luna hadn't even been a threat at that point, and he'd simply struck her down without hesitation.

No... she was certain now that it hadn't been Tirek. The centaur wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to gloat.

Well, now was the time to get to the bottom of it. She was well rested and fully recovered; if her attacker was still haunting the Dream Realm, she'd be ready for him this time. And, conveniently, one did not have to get out of bed to reach it. (In fact, doing so was generally the wrong way to go about it.)

With only the slightest trace of magic, she focused on the mental path to the destination of all sleeping minds, a path she'd traveled countless times before...

Nothing happened.

She tried again, then once again with a keen sense of desperation and dread. This could not be! Had the attack left her incapable of accessing the Dream Realm?! What kind of power did her assailant possess that he could sever her connection?! This was... catastrophic! She had to-!

In her panic, three things happened. First, she fell out of the bed, but that was to be expected. Second, her horn tore through the indigo-dyed sheets, ripping a hole large enough to free her head and therefore exposing her dark-adjusted eyes to pure sunlight. And third, she discovered that the headache was not actually gone; it had only stepped away for a moment and just what did she think she was doing?

Luna hastily ducked beneath the remnants of her sheet and waited for the pain, as well as the spots in her eyes, to fade. It was a full minute and a half before she recovered enough to pick out the most important keyword from her recent experience:

Sunlight?!

She peered fractionally out from under the blanket, and confirmed that, indeed, light was flowing in from a window.

Like her sister, Luna had an absolutely precise internal clock. They both knew when the sun and moon should rise, and when they should set. It was now a solid half hour past the scheduled moonrise, and yet...

It didn't take her long to follow the logic to its conclusion, and take an educated guess at the reasoning behind it. Her dear, overprotective, foolish sister was willing to throw not only the lives of everypony in Equestria, but also the heavenly circles themselves into chaos just to let her sleep! Luna didn't need to be coddled! She...

The alicorn hesitated, peeked out from under her blanket again, then swiftly retreated. Luna had never heard the phrase 'icepicks in the retinas' before, but if she had she would have found it excruciatingly appropriate.

...well. Perhaps she could rest a little longer. Here on the floor. Under her blanket. Where the Sun couldn't find her.

"I need to have a little chat with Tirek," Tempest announced. "Take Cozy Glow's cage to one of the other 'cells'."

And then she moved her head slightly, aiming one baleful eye at him. "She doesn't need to be here for this."

...ah. Well, then.

With a 'whuff' of acknowledgement, the beast carefully grasped the cage with its center jaws, then turned toward the stairs. "Tirek?" Cozy Glow said, her voice full of concern and growing fear, but before he could say a word, Cerberus stepped off the plateau and painstakingly made his way downwards. Soon, Spy and Tempest were alone, and silence ruled the land once more. The mare still hadn't moved, seeming content to let the tension rise.

So. It was to be torture after all. Hardly his favorite past time, either receiving or giving, but it was part of the job and he'd had ample training to endure that sort of thing. Meditation, disassociation, Bangladeshi marten-style autohypnosis; they all had their place. If nothing else, he could get a slight but pleasant buzz from the bottle of... no, wait, that was in his real body. Unfortunate. Still, whatever the mare decided to do, he could withstand it. It wasn't as if these creatures had the technology to be truly inventive.

There was a hoofstep, and he looked up to see Tempest finally leaving the edge of the plateau. She walked almost absently toward the center, not even glancing in his direction.

...on the other hand, she did have a built-in cattle prod, he realized, and wished he hadn't. For the second time in less than a day, he was glad this body lacked nipples. No, stay focused. Whatever she decided to do, whatever vile sadism she'd concocted, he had to be prepared for it. He had to-

"Do you want to get out of here, Tirek?"

Spy was getting tired of having his expectations flouted like this.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, and no acting was required to make it sound incredulous.

"You heard me." Her tone was soft, conversational. "Do you want to get out of this place?"

"You mean... leave? Leave Tartarus? Just like that?"

"That's right."

It was a trick. It had to be. "Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically, "I've gotten rather fond of the place over the centuries. It just needs a little dusting, some new carpeting, perhaps a swimming pool..."

"I'm serious."

He snorted. "I doubt it. You asked that question as if you didn't already know the answer. If all you're going to do is play silly games, Berrytwist, then we have nothing to talk about!"

(Fifteen minutes.)

"I'm trying to-!" A single spark popped from her horn, but she took a long breath and none of its brethren followed suit. "Look, Tirek," she said, stepping closer. "I want to help you. I honestly do. I might be the only mare in Equestria that's willing to give you a fair shake; you never drained my magic, after all, and I've got no right to judge anycreature for the things they've done in the past. I'm as neutral as you're gonna get."

(Neither centaur nor mare noticed, but the light in the cavern became slightly more... orange around them. This light swiftly precipitated into near-invisible colored motes, which fell to the floor and coalesced into a faint mist.)

Spy regarded her skeptically. "Less than ten minutes ago you were ready to blast me to oblivion, and now you expect me to believe you want to help me? What's your angle, pony?"

She dipped her head slightly, acknowledging the point. "Maybe... maybe I've been in your position, too. Maybe I know what it's like to... run out of options."

"And for that you'd let me just waltz through those doors and terrorize Equestria again?"

Tempest gave him a wry smile. "Now, I never said that, did I?"

He rolled his eyes and reached for the newspaper, which had fallen from his cage during the earlier incident. "This is becoming tedious. If you have a point, please get to-"

"Did you know there are other worlds than this, Tirek?"

That made him pause briefly, his mind suddenly working at top speed. "Excuse me?" he said, to buy time.

"Worlds other than ours. Other... oh, what was the word... dimensions, that's it. Places where things are completely different, and that are totally separated from Equestria."

Well, yes, now he did, and he imagined Tirek was quite familiar with the concept, being that he'd dragged Spy here in the first place. But would it benefit him to admit this knowledge? No. On the other hand, Tirek would be loathe to appear ignorant on any subject, so: "I... may have heard of such things."

Tempest started to circle the cage again, but this time there was no sense of menace to the action. "Well, it turns out that the Princesses have direct access to one of these worlds."

...oh, really?

"Apparently it's full of these gangly things on two legs called, um... hyoo-mins, I think it was?"

...oh, really?!

"It's a big state secret. Most ponies don't even know about that place..." She quirked a smile. "...but then, most ponies aren't good friends with a certain Princess who get super chatty about her latest projects."

"What are you getting at?" he asked cautiously, keeping his screaming desire to learn more well-contained.

"Well, the thing about that world is that it doesn't have any magic. Almost no magic," she corrected herself. "There's been some leakage from here to there, but it sounds like it only shows up in the form of artifacts and things like that. Nothing that you'd be able to absorb, if you even still had that ability on that side."

Comprehension dawned. "You're talking about exile."

She nodded.

"Banish the diabolical centaur to this magicless world where he can't do any harm," he continued thoughtfully.

"Well, even if you tried," she said, "it sounds like Sparkle's got some good friends over there, and they've taken down Equestrian refugees and magical calamities and so on. I'd bet they could keep you in line."

He rubbed his chin - still an odd sensation, what with the beard - and made a show of thinking this over while his mind did happy cartwheels. Yes! Perfect! A golden ticket back home! All right, he wouldn't have his own body, but if the Medic couldn't transplant this brain into something a little more presentable, he wasn't the man Spy thought he was. And best of all, he could blame Tirek for his little... indiscretion with the briefcase. Thank you, my dear little pony; you're solving all of my problems at once!

(Twelve minutes.)

Calm yourself, calm yourself. Don't ruin this by seeming overeager. "And Celestia has approved this idea?"

"Well... no," Tempest admitted. "I just came up with it. But I can talk to Sparkle about it, and Celestia listens to her... at least half of the time. I think it's got a good shot of working. And if they don't want to endanger these hyoomins, maybe they can put you in some other uninhabited dimension and just close the door behind you or something."

That would be... less than ideal. Best make sure it doesn't happen.

"Point is, you'd be gone. Out of our manes, for good."

He stared at her doubtfully. "Why are you doing this?"

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Celestia's got an old-fashioned idea of punishment, but me, I consider one thousand years to be time served. But you got out of here once; who's to say you won't do it again? It's better for Equestria if the possibility never comes up. And, well, short of the... ahem... permanent option, if you catch my drift... this would be a good compromise."

Then Tempest looked around at the cavern. "...and to be honest," she added with a scowl, "the whole idea of Tartarus has started to make me sick to my stomach. Nobody deserves this place. Not even you."

(An ever-so-slightly yellow glow appeared around them, then descended to join, but not mix with, its orange predecessor.)

"...you really mean that," he said softly.

"Yeah. I really do." She stopped in front of him, and their eyes met. "So what's it gonna be, Tirek? Whatever happens, it's got to be better than this place."

Better indeed! This was hardly the outcome he expected from this little chat, and it was a bit of a shame he and Cozy Glow had gone through all that training and planning for nothing, but he would be a fool to refuse such a fortuitous offer. All he had to do was play along and avoid getting found out, and he would be free and clear. Victory was so close he could almost taste it!

Later - and not much later - he would realize that he should have known better.

Spy couldn't make this too easy for her, though. He had to play his part just right. "...you're asking a lot, pony," he said, clasping his hands behind his back and turning away. "You would have me give up not only my power, but my ambition as well." Yes, keep the tone slow and thoughtful. Avoid suggesting that you've already made up your mind.

Tempest stepped forward to stand next to him. "Your ambition hasn't been working out for you so far," she noted mildly. "Maybe it's time for a change."

(Ten minutes.)

He grunted. "What I seek is control. To command the fear and respect of those beneath me. What 'change' is there for a tyrant?"

She mulled this over for a moment, then with a sidelong glance said, "...have you considered a career as a school teacher?"

This got a chuckle out of him, which proved so surprising that Tempest let out one of her own. They laughed together, and though it didn't last long, it was still a shared moment between them...

(Pink appeared, and the motes all but danced downward, spinning and cavorting around orange and yellow.)

Then Spy sighed, injecting a small but detectable hint of resignation into it. "I'm... tired, Tempest. Tired of this place, of the memories of the battles I've lost. A new world... I can't say it's not tempting."

"Well, I can't promise your own little empire, but-"

"-it's better than this," he finished. Spy stood quietly for a time, eyes closed in contemplation until he decided it had been long enough. "I suppose I have no choice. Another thousand years in Tartarus would be simply intolerable."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay. I'll pitch my idea to Sparkle the next time I see her."

"And I'll inform Cozy Glow of the details," he said. "I'm not sure why you sent her away, in fact. It would have saved time, letting her know that she and I would be..." His words began to falter as realization slowly dawned. "...going... to..."

("She doesn't need to be here for this.")

'Not much later' had abruptly come due.

"Oh. I guess I wasn't clear," Tempest said, moving around to face him head on. Her sky-blue eyes pierced straight through him. "Cozy Glow isn't part of this. She. Stays. Here."

"What? But... you said..."

"You may have spent more than enough time in here, but she tried to remove all magic from Equestria. You of all creatures know how much damage that would have caused! You just drained ponies; this would have been ten times worse!" She shook her head. "No. She stays. That's final."

The mare looked at his expression and appeared to become puzzled. "C'mon, Tirek, it's not like you need her around, right? She's got no more magic sticking to her, after all, and odds are you wouldn't even be able to drain her in the other world. You'll be free to do what you want - well, mostly - with no ponies to push you around. Just say the word," she concluded cheerfully, "and we'll get things moving."

Spy tried to get his breathing under control even as the anger continued to rise. It... it would be so easy to agree. It should be easy! The red carpet of victory had been laid out in front of him, a way out of this waking nightmare of a world, and it would take no effort whatsoever! Just say yes, you imbecile! What are you waiting for?!

There was a sudden pain in his mouth, and the taste of blood. He was gritting his teeth so hard that, despite the protections of Tartarus, he'd cut himself with one of Tirek's extra-long incisors.

No. He could still win this somehow. Couldn't he? There... there had to be... another way...

He felt Tempest's breath on his neck; she'd slipped her head into the cage, held her muzzle near his ear. "Unless," she whispered, "there's a reason you don't want to leave Cozy Glow behind."

And there it was. The truth he'd been so unwilling to admit, even to himself.

It would be easy to give in. Oh, yes. He could accept Tempest's offer and return home to Earth, back to a life of carefree and indiscriminate murder. Of course, it probably wouldn't be that easy - it might not be his Earth, the way his luck had been going - but he was a man of many talents. He could make do, even when saddled (aheh) with this bizarre body, and he had no doubt he would rise to the top once more. Any world so closely adjacent to Equestria was unlikely to be prepared for someone like him. It would be a veritable cakewalk.

For that matter, why relocate? He could reveal his true identity to Tempest and enlist the aid of the Princesses to undo whatever Tirek had done. If that wasn't possible, then it would be no trouble integrating into Equestrian society... well, apart from the fact that he was wearing the centaur's face, of course. A bit of a barrier to societal advancement, to be sure, but then again who knew what magic might accomplish? Either way, a spot of government work would get him on his feet (or hooves); if nothing else, his combat experience would easily net him a military position, perhaps even as a centaur in the royal guard. A strangely compelling idea, that, though his talents would be much better put to use as... well, not to put too fine a point on it, but as a spy. An actual spy, gathering information and acquiring secrets, not the blood-soaked role he'd played to perfection for the last several years. Oh, it was worthy work, but he would relish the opportunity to use his brain more than his knife, and Celestia didn't seem the type to need assassins. Not when she had so many other horrific options available.

In any case, it was clear that taking the path of least resistance, following the stream of destiny downhill rather than fighting against the current, was the key to anything he might want.

And at the other end of that path, in every tributary of the stream, Cozy Glow sat in a cage in Tartarus, alone.

It was preposterous. He was a hardened killer. A cold-blooded murderer. The fate of a single child - of another species, no less - was nothing but an obstacle to be overcome, if it stood between him and his objective. It shouldn't matter to him... but it did. He could deny that no longer. Any plan that resulted in leaving the filly behind was unacceptable. Even a temporary separation was too risky; he couldn't be sure that he could arrange for her escape any time soon, if at all. The thought of Cozy Glow by herself in this oubliette eclipsed all other concerns. He couldn't abandon her, no matter what.

Merde.

Tempest stepped back, and the motion drew him out of his introspection. She stared at him, her gaze poring over his features... then she drew a long, slow breath. "Well, what do you know?" she said quietly. "It's true."

As Spy looked down at her, indignant and uncertain, the mare began to laugh. It was the loud, sustained laugh of someone who had just gotten the joke. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

With a noticeable effort, she caught her breath. "Oh... oh, wow! If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it! Who would've thought, right?"

"What are you...?"

Tempest stared up at him with an expression of wonder, her eyes dancing with slightly malicious glee. "It's not just an act, is it? You really do care about Cozy Glow!"

He gaped at her for a moment, then scowled. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Oh, no, no. It's even better than that." Her grin grew even wider as she savored her next few words. "You're friends with Cozy Glow."

The wince was hardly theatrical. "You've lost your mind. By no means am I-!"

"Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. I won't tell anyone but the Princesses, all right? I won't tell all of Equestria that the big evil overlord got defeated by the power of friendship." She paused thoughtfully. "...again."

He glowered at her. "Will you listen for a moment? Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. I am not 'friends' with that little dust rag of a pony. The very idea makes me nauseous."

"You can tell yourself that all day long if you want," she replied calmly. "I'm on to you. I may have gotten to the friendship party a little later than most ponies, but I can see the signs. All that talk about how you'd abandon her... it was all just a ruse, wasn't it? That was the fake part, not the rest of it."

They locked gazes, and it was he who looked away. She wasn't entirely correct, but it was close enough to the mark to do the job.

Tempest smiled. "Thought so. And y'know what the best part about this whole thing is?" she asked, amusement still ringing from every word. "This entire scheme just had to be Sparkle's idea. There's no way Celestia or Luna could have come up with it. Now, that's just a pinch of salt in the wound, isn't it?"

(Six minutes.)

Spy's brow furrowed in honest confusion. "What in blazes are you on about?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what I'm 'on about', she said in cheerful mockery. "See, after the first couple of times I came to check on you two, I started wondering about Cozy Glow. Maybe working for the Storm King made me numb to that kind of thing, because I didn't really think about it at first, but then it hit me: there's a kid in this place. Okay, sure, Celestia's just kind of like that, but... a foal? Really? Put right next to the creature that tried to conquer Equestria twice? It made no sense. So I started asking around, and nobody else could figure out the logic behind it either. Only the Princesses knew, and they weren't talking."

Tempest walked to the edge of the plateau, though this time instead of the rocky expanse below she stared at another outcropping, upon which Spy could just barely make out the form of Cerberus seated next to Cozy Glow's cage. "But just now, watching you two cover for each other, defend each other, caring about each other... it all makes sense. They put her here," she finished triumphantly, "so that you two would become friends."

He couldn't stop staring at her. "I beg your pardon? Why in the world would your Princesses want two of their greatest enemies to join forces?"

"Well, obviously because having a good friend will make you forget all about your evil ways," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She caught him rolling his eyes, and chuckled. "Yeah, I know, it's corny, and it had to be a long shot. But like it or not, that's how things work around here; I'm living proof, right? Anyway, this has got Twilight's hoofprints all over it. She' probably would've tried to win you over herself - she's got a good track record in the reformation department - but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't exactly be falling over yourself to be her friend."

"That... goes without saying," he hedged.

"So instead, she gets Cozy Glow - the 'Empress of Friendship' - installed as your cellmate. If anyone could break through your defenses, it'd be her."

Spy frowned, thinking this over. The plan Tempest described was inane, childish and self-defeating... which probably meant it made perfect logical sense in this world. But... was that really what happened? He had his doubts, but he could analyze it later. "That definitely sounds like an idea only a fool like Twilight Sparkle would come up with," he said. "And I still don't admit that I'm friends with the little urchin."

Tempest sighed. "Come on, Tirek. You were willing to sacrifice your freedom rather than leave Cozy Glow behind."

He crossed his arms defiantly. "I had my reasons."

"Right. Sure. Well, don't worry; I'll still hold up my end of the bargain. In fact, this should probably make things easier. If the Princesses know that you can actually be friends with somepony - even a messed-up filly like her - they'll be more likely to put you on probation, so to speak."

Spy remained silent for a moment, then: "And what happens to Cozy Glow?"

Her expression softened. "Oh, don't worry about her, either. Once you're gone, they won't need to keep her in here anymore." Tempest hesitated, then sighed. "Look, I know you'll miss her, but there's no way the Princesses would agree with sending her with you to some other world. She'll be happier here in Equestria, with other ponies. You have to see that. But I promise that I'll do everything I can to make sure she's taken care of, okay? One way or another, I'll personally guarantee that."

(Pale white mist appeared, its very presence making the other hues seem a bit brighter.)

Spy closed his eyes. So, was this it? He feared it was. Tempest had guessed enough of the truth to reach a reasonable conclusion, and there was nothing he could do short of breaking his cover to change her mind. And even then, would it really affect anything? The Princesses would no more allow Cozy Glow to be escorted by some alien assassin from another dimension than they would Tirek himself. No, assuming Tempest's theory was correct - which was by no means assured - the filly would likely be sent to... some foster home or another, assuming her parents were no longer around, and that might hardly be better than imprisonment. Regardless, he could see no outcome where they both left Tartarus together. He'd lost...

...which only left one option.

(Three minutes.)

When he didn't respond, Tempest turned and walked toward the stairs. "I'd better head to Canterlot, then. The sooner I can talk to the Princesses, the sooner we can all put this awful place behind us. Probably better not to tell Cozy about..." She stopped and considered. "...no, I'll leave it up to you whether to tell her you're leaving. It's the least I can do... even though you two 'aren't friends'."

Did he dare take this step? Throw everything away, for the sake of one child?

Would he be able to live with himself if he didn't?

Tempest's hoof was two inches from the first step down when he finally spoke: "The deal's off."

Her ears twitched, and she turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I said 'no deal'," he confirmed. "I'm going to stay right here."

She laughed and shook her head. "Yeah, very funny, Tirek. No, you're not." He just stared at her, his arms still crossed, and her grin slowly became a scowl. "No," she repeated firmly. "You're not."

(Two minutes.)

"Did you really think I'd abandon my dreams of world domination so easily?" he asked with a sneer. "I knew you ponies were gullible, but this...!"

"Don' t you try to pull that on me," she shot back. "I'm sorry you won't be able to take Cozy with you, but-"

He laughed in the most insulting manner he could manage (which, being French, was saying quite a lot). "That was only your delusion, fool of a pony! Send her away or keep her here; either way, I couldn't care less!"

"Oh, please! That just means either she's out of Tartarus, or she's here with you! That's a win-win as far as you're concerned!"

"And what's more," he said, ignoring this, "now that I know about Twilight Sparkle's 'special project', I'll have a whole other world to conquer once I get bored of Equestria!" He laughed again. "Thank you for telling me, Berrytwist! It is greatly appreciated!"

(One minute.)

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, yeah? Well, if that's the way you want it, keep in mind that you can't stop us from stranding you in some barren dimension all by yourself! You're a prisoner! We don't need your cooperation!"

Laughter turned to rage in an instant, and he gripped the cage bars furiously. "If you try that," Spy snarled, "I will find a way back, and when I do I will rain devastation upon this land as you have never dreamed of! A thousand years of darkness will be on your head!"

"Whoa, okay, tone it down a notch, Sombra," she said mockingly. "Let's just calm down and be reasonable for a second here."

"NEVER!"

She stomped a hoof in frustration. "Ugh, this is so dumb! Why are you like this?!"

(Zero.)

It began as a single chime - a G5 note, if he was any judge - that came from... nowhere and everywhere. Not loud, but omnipresent. He glanced around, trying to find its source.

"I am honestly trying to help you," Tempest continued earnestly, and if she was aware of the sound she didn't show it. "Both of you. Stop fighting me on this!"

But a new sound... no, not just sound, but music had entered the aural landscape as she spoke, and it inexplicably sounded like... a concertina? And that rhythm, that distinctive baseline... was that a tango? What in blazes was going on?

"You know this is the best option you're ever going to get. Are you really going to turn it down?"

Did Tartarus have some kind of automatic music spell or similar nonsense? Why had it never activated before, then? Why would it only start when Tempest was delivering an impassioned plea, as though they were in some sort of...

...oh.

Oh, NO.

She appeared to mistake his distraction for disinterest, and grew even more angry. "You can't have everything your own way, Tirek! You're way too old to act like such a little colt!"

"Ah, yes," he replied hastily. "Perhaps there is room for-"

But he was too late. The tune's introduction had come to a close, and she was already drawing a deep breath.

...he might have preferred the torture...

"What do you think you're doing," she demanded, without the slightest trace of awkwardness around the fact that she'd just burst into song, "with all these lies you tell? / 'Cuz if it's me you're fooling / You can keep crying / I'm not buying / What you're trying to sell." She turned and tossed her head mockingly. "Oh well!"

The concertina was no longer alone. Guitars, violins, piano, flute; the full orquesta típica had been assembled. And Tempest, as she circled his cage once more, was following note for note, even though she couldn't possibly have rehearsed this. "They say you're such an ogre / So full of greed and rage. / But now your plans are over / And from now on you'll be stuck in a cage!"

As the music swelled, she leapt on top of his cage, adding another layer of humiliation to the experience. "By decree of Celestia / You're here for millennia / A fate altogether too real!" She hopped back down, turning to face him. "But I think if we try / We could see eye to eye / And between us we might cut a deal."

He scowled at the ridiculousness of it all as she pranced around the plateau, the piano descending to flow into the chorus. "Villain to villain / We're two of a kind. / Villain to villain / So if you don't mind / Though these bars might hold you / I'm not here to scold you. / I promise our goals are aligned!"

As Tempest continued her surprisingly well-choreographed dance, Spy thought: So this is how I die. Of embarrassment, while inhabiting a borrowed body, within a prison in another dimension, as a purple unicorn pleads with me in song.

Who knew that haunted carnival's fortune-telling machine would be so accurate?

Oh, God, there's another verse...

"I know just what you're feeling," she informed him, strutting around him in time with the rhythm, "deep in that heart of coal. / Though it might set you reeling / You've got compassion..." She paused for half a beat before continuing. "(...in a fashion) / Crashin' through your soul."

"How droll," he murmured, unthinking.

"I've been in your position / I've stood right in those shoes." She whirled and locked gazes with him defiantly. "But this is my new mission / And if you cross me, you're just going to lose!"

Tempest's tone changed slightly, becoming more impassioned than challenging. "I swear that I get it / And I'll give you credit / You played your game right to the end." She turned her head, and Spy followed the mare's gaze to a distant platform where Cerberus could be seen sitting next to a diminutive cube. "But if you want to save her / You'll have to be braver / And do the right thing for your friend."

This situation was just getting absurd. Did she really expect that this literal song and dance number would convince him? It was high time he spoke up.

"Villain to villain..."

"Have you gone berserk?" he asked mockingly.

"Villain to villain..."

Still she persists? "It's not going to work!" he snapped, losing patience.

She continued, ignoring his interjections. "No two ways about it / I don't even doubt it:" Tempest turned to him with a grin. "You're no longer such a jerk."

Before he could demand an explanation, she launched into the next verse, the music changing subtly as the song approached its conclusion. "The Tirek of old / Was aggressive and bold / A creature destructive and wild! / But I think that you must / Be a centaur to trust / For you want what is best for the child!"

She faced him once more, her expression both imploring and exasperated. "Villain to villain / Though it might seem new / Villain to villain / You know what to do! / So please take a chance / And join me in this dance." A hoof raised and pointed at the distant plateau. "It's what she would do for you!"

Cue the final chords, strike the spotlight, and exit Spy's last shred of dignity, stage left.

The last few notes sounded and faded, leaving nothing but the stillness of the cavern. Spy shook his head slightly, as if waking from a dream. He felt drained by the... the travesty he'd been forced to sit through. Tempest had an excellent singing voice, he had to admit, but during the song he'd felt like the entire world had been laughing at him, and for a man whose sense of humor came at the expense of other people, it had been...

He stopped as a memory surfaced. Had... had he been rhyming?! He'd never intended to! Good Lord, this world was even more horrific than he'd realized.

Movement caught his attention. Tempest stood before his cage once more, and showed no signs of fatigue from her recent exertions. "So how about it, Tirek?" she asked quietly. "Do we have a deal? For her sake?"

Exhausted, he gripped the bars of his cage and leaned his head against them, taking slight relief from the cold metal. "I... can't," he said after a moment. "You know I can't. Not with Celestia making the final decision. Resistance is the only option." He smiled grimly. "For her sake."

(Faint cyan light coalesced in the air, and at last all five colors were united. The spells built into the very walls of Tartarus itself were restraining the sixth, but that didn't matter, not in the slightest. A new energy had filled the air during Tempest's song, ready to be tapped; all it needed was...)

Tempest watched him for a long moment... then sighed. "Yeah. I get it. I don't agree... but I get it." The mare paused. "You know something, though? I... sort of like this new Tirek. He's the kind of creature I would've wanted to call my friend." She reached up, and hoof gently touched hand. "I wish I'd met him earlier."

(...a spark.)

And indeed, as Tempest turned away Spy was hit with a feeling not unlike being attached to a car battery... though strangely, not in a bad way? It was very confusing. There was no pain, but just an unaccountable warmth flowing across his skin, and a sense of eagerness somehow.

He could barely hear her words as she walked to the stairs downward. "Look, Sparkle's going to be here in the morning. We'll talk about it again when she gets here, okay? We'll work this out, Tirek." And then, almost completely inaudibly: "...I hope."

Tempest didn't look back as she started to descend, which would turn out to be a grave mistake on her part.

When Cozy Glow was returned to the plateau a few minutes later, she found Spy slumped against the bars, breathing heavily and staring at nothing. "...Spy?" she asked cautiously. "You okay?" Behind her, Cerberus loped back to the entrance chamber.

Spy grunted. There was something off about his appearance, she realized, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Wow. What happened up here? She must've really done a number on you!"

"Yes," he growled. "A musical number! Why didn't you tell me there would be impromptu singing involved?!"

She blinked in surprise. "You don't have those?"

"No!"

"That's so weird!"

He rubbed his face wearily with both hands. "It was extremely distressing. I'm sure the song took control of my actions briefly, or at least my voice."

She waved this off. "Yeah, but it's just a thing that happens, y'know? Like sneezing." Then she paused. "You... do have sneezing, right?"

Spy glowered at her from between his fingers.

"Just checking. Anyway, yeah. You can't do much about it, so you just get through it, and maybe have some fun. But... wow, I never expected her to have one with you! What were you two talking about?"

He briefly considered telling her about Tempest's plan, ran the ensuing conversation through his head, and decided not to go there just yet. As the mare had pointed out, Cozy Glow would very probably agree with her plan, and would willingly cooperate with her to win his freedom, even if it meant leaving the filly in Tartarus. No, best not to mention it unless there was truly no other option. "Oh, she... was trying to intimidate me into cooperating with her. She grew a little frustrated, I think."

The filly snickered. "I bet. Especially after you ticked her off so bad. I was really worried when you did that!"

"Come now, Miss Glow," he said, smiling thinly and reaching through the bars to pat her head. Neither of them noticed that his hand was slightly larger than it used to be. "It was nothing I couldn't handle."

She pressed back against his palm for a moment, then looked up at him. "And she still thinks you're Tirek?"

"Of course." Then a memory twitched. "Although..." He frowned, then shook his head. "No... she's noticed some differences, but she's attributing them to changes in Tirek himself."

She tilted her head curiously. "What kind of changes?"

"Oh, she has the preposterous idea that we're friends." And then before she started to wilt, "I mean, that you and Tirek are friends."

"Oh! Yeah, I've tried to bring him around, but he's such a huge grumpyhooves that it's been tough going. I'll get through his defenses someday."

"In any case, she doesn't seem to object to the changes. She did say that she liked the 'new Tirek'."

Cozy Glow raised an eyebrow and adopted a well-crafted smirk. "Oooooo. She likes you, huh? Maybe somepony's got a little crush on you? Can love bloom in Tartarus?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be absurd."

"Aww, look at you! You're blushing!"

"Miss Glow, please. I have never blushed a day in my entire life."

"Well, it sure looks like it to-" She stopped, and her eyes grew wide. "Wait a minute! You're not blushing! You're red!"

He looked at her in confusion. "Well... obviously..."

"No no no! Like... really red! You look like..." And as she made the connection and inspected him more thoroughly, she clapped her hooves to her mouth. "...ohmygosh! Spy! You look like Tirek!"

Sometimes the best reaction is no reaction at all.

"I mean what Tirek really looks like!" she continued, slightly annoyed. "What he looked like back when he was draining ponies of their magic! You're redder, and bigger, and younger, and-" There was a twin sound of gouging wood as he twisted to look at himself, and she nodded. "And yep, your horns are longer. Better watch out for that."

He pulled free of the cage's ceiling, then peered downwards. Even as he watched, his fur was becoming more vibrant, and the muscles in his arms grew larger and more well-defined with every passing second. "What the hell...?!"

"You aren't getting super huge like he did," she said, "but this is definitely what he looked like when he tried to take over Equestria! Spy... did you take Tempest's magic?!"

"I... I don't know! I wouldn't even know how to do it! And didn't you say Tartarus was enchanted to keep this from happening?"

"That's what Tirek told me. He said he couldn't steal somepony's energy even if they were standing right next to him."

He looked down at the entrance chamber, where Tempest was barely visible. "Then... how...?"

A new realization occurred to Cozy Glow, and she gasped. "Oh... this is bad. Really bad!"

He flexed his new muscles. Agility over strength had always been his training goal, but he was not displeased at the size of his vitalized biceps. "Nonsense. I feel better than I have since I got here!"

"Yeah, but if Tempest sees you like this, she's going to know something's wrong right away! There's no way we'll be able to take the key from her now, if we can even find it."

"Ah." He made a gesture toward his throat. "On a chain around her neck, tucked into her clothes. I saw it when she was about to murder me."

Cozy Glow perked up at that, but only briefly. "Okay, but our plan..."

"Plans can be altered or even abandoned when circumstances change, Miss Glow." He grasped one of the bars of his cage and pulled at it experimentally; it took some effort, but he was able to create a noticeable bend. "And I feel as though there is a new path open to us now."

She stared at him... then an evil grin grew on her face. "We're busting out? Literally?"

"Well, a frontal assault isn't my preferred approach," he said, "but as you say, Tempest would immediately notice my new appearance, and Twilight Sparkle will be here in the morning as well. We don't have much time to come up with anything more sophisticated."

"Now, that sounds like fun!" she said with a giggle, rubbing her hooves together. "Okay, then, Mister Spy. I'm ready when you are!"

"Then let us begin." He reached up, grabbed two bars, tensed his arms...

...paused, and lowered them. "However..."

"What's wrong?"

His expression was slightly pained. "It's just that... I may be stronger now, but we've seen what Tempest can do, have we not?"

"...oh." She frowned. "Yeah... she's gonna be tough to beat."

"Indeed. All things considered, I suspect I might be able to take her in a fair fight... but I abhor a fair fight. And we must take the hound into account as well."

"Oh. Right. So... what do we do?"

He looked around at the floor of the plateau. Fortunately, Tempest hadn't stepped on anything during her performance. "What we do, Miss Glow, is implement my backup plan."

Her brow furrowed. "...backup plan? You had a backup plan?"

Spy chuckled. "But of course. You didn't think I asked Tempest for food because I was hungry, did you?"

Cozy Glow stared at him, her mouth agape. "Your lunch was a backup plan?!"

He finished collecting the remnants of his meal and piled it before him. "Before she brought these, we had no tools or weapons. Now... we have options. And when you know how to do it, practically anything can be of use."

Having said that, however, Spy regarded the pile with less than full enthusiasm. A half-eaten fish, a stained newspaper, and (courtesy of Cozy Glow) a handful of thistles. Not exactly the resources he would have liked to have available when breaking out of a magical prison...

But they would have to do.

"Let's get to work," he said.

There was a knock on the door, which was answered by a loud groan. "Not another one! Spike, could you get that please?"

"I thought you wanted me to send a letter."

"Oh! Right. Then... I'll answer the door, and you write the letter as we go. Ready?"

"Ready."

"Ahem... 'Dear Princess Celestia...'"

"Wow, that takes me back."

"Focus, Spike! Ahem. 'I can't help but notice that the Sun hasn't gone down yet, and it feels like it's long past the usual time. I hate bothering you over such a trivial matter and I certainly don't want to question your judgement, especially on how you manage the Sun...'"

"I do."

"Spike! '...but roughly half of Ponyville has noticed the delay and dropped by my castle to ask about it. If you're not too busy, please let me know when you're planning to lower the Sun so I can let everypony know. Your Faithful Student, et cetera, et cetera.' But don't write 'et cetera'."

"'But don't write-'"

"Spiiiike!"

"I'm kidding, Twilight." There was a rush of flame just beyond the door. "What do you think's going on?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing important. Definitely nothing the Princesses can't handle." The door opened, and a purple unicorn - no, alicorn - peeked through. "I'm sorry, I don't know when the-" And then she stopped abruptly, no other words able to escape.

The guardpony had removed his helmet respectfully and held it under one wing, revealing a blue mane over golden fur. "Excuse me, but... you're Princess Twilight, aren't you? I have a message from-"

The door slammed shut.

Nonplussed, all the guard could do was stand waiting as the door largely failed to mute the voices on the other side. "Is... there a problem, Twilight?"

"...it's... him."

"...him who?"

"It's him! From there! But... why? Why is he here?!"

"Nouns, Twilight! I need nouns!"

"I can't just... I need to think... I...!" There was a sound of hooves on stone, vanishing into the distance.

"...okay...?" The door opened once more, and the guard adjusted his sight downward to meet the gaze of the small purple dragon thus revealed. They regarded each other for a moment, then the dragon's eyes grew wide in recognition and understanding. "...oh! Ohhhhhh. That explains it."

The guard, now thoroughly confused, decided to just roll with it. "You would be... Spike, right? I have a message for the Princess from Tempest Shadow. It's pretty urgent."

Spike blinked in surprise. "I guess it must be," he agreed. "Fizzlepop usually takes care of things herself. Come on in."

He led the guard further into the castle, and the pegasus couldn't help but rubberneck at the unfamiliar palace. No gleaming marble here, just stone and crystals and an almost overwhelming smell of books. "So, um... is the Princess okay?"

"Oh, sure. She just... has something on her mind," the dragon said diplomatically. "Let me take you to a waiting room and make you some tea. You're probably tired from your trip and-"

A gasp and clatter of porcelain made them look up to see a vase hovering inches from the floor, held in a magical field. Hidden almost completely behind an adjacent pillar, Twilight sighed in relief as she maneuvered the vase back to its display... then saw them looking at her, let out a small squeak, and vanished in a flash of light. The vase fell to the ground and shattered.

Spike sighed. "...and she's probably gonna be a while."

Author's Note

Props to Hotel_Chicken for correctly calling the musical number.

(Panicked Screaming in Prench)

The battlefield's codename was Well, and insofar as any of the mercenaries thought about it at all, they didn't know why. Most of the places they fought had names that made at least some sense: Harvest was situated in the middle of a farm, the tracks for the payload cart in Upward went generally, well, upward, Hydro had a dam and hydroelectric power plant, and Sawmill included giant freestanding exposed sawblades in its central building, which would have been a severe OSHA violation if the facility was ever used for anything other than armed combat. The area known as Well, however, did not have a well. It did have a small moat on either side, just outside of the RED and BLU bases, but these were barely tactically significant. Of greater interest was the railroad track running through the middle of the battleground, and the trains that came barrelling through with surprising frequency. Why, then, wasn't it called Railway? Or Depot? Or Mind the Tracks? It was a mystery, but since it was one they weren't paid to solve, they didn't.

The RED team's current opponents were more stubborn than usual. Though they had fallen back from the central control point, their defense of their own territory was remarkably solid. The BLU team's sentry was both well-placed and well-maintained, and each RED attempt to gain entry to their base was stymied by coordinated tactics. Even the use of the Medic's Übercharge, which wrapped both him and a teammate in a wreath of invincibility, was literally pushed back by the opposing Medic's own Übercharge and bursts of compressed air from the BLU Pyro.

Outside the base, hunkered against a dispenser, the Demoman reloaded his sticky bomb launcher. "I can't get a clean line to their turret," he shouted over the constant gunfire, "an' their hardhat has a bloody Short Circuit! I cannae push through, an' time's roonin' out!"

"Spy will have that sentry down," Engineer insisted. "We've gotta give him more time!"

Tirek was regretting the bacon. The stomach in this body was clearly not accustomed to the very reasonable amount of grease-laden fried meat the former centaur had ingested, and was making its opinion known with every step he took. He couldn't even think about snacking on his pocket bacon, which was a tragedy.

He was working his way through the central building, peering intently at the ground. He had found a cart somewhere, a flat four-wheeled dolly upon which rested a pile of well-oiled lethality. Occasionally he would find a weapon dropped by the BLU team during their retreat, toss it on the pile, then push the cart onward.

Sooner or later he would have all the guns, and then he would have true power.

As he picked over a fallen BLU soldier and, with some difficulty, dragged a rocket launcher to his cart, a sudden shift in shadows made him look up. Tirek took in the figure before him, his eyes widening. "...you?! How?!"

"I am the Spy," said the RED Spy.

"How in Tartarus did you get here?!" Tirek demanded. He looked the newcomer up and down once again. "...and with your own body, no less?"

The other Spy looked nonplussed, but shrugged nonchalantly. "All in a day's work."

Tirek scowled. "Oh, keep your secrets, then. I don't care. But what about Cozy Glow? Did you at least leave the little urchin behind?"

"Naturally."

"Well, at least you did something right." He considered the Spy for a long moment. "I can't give you your body back at the moment, but it seems you found a way around that anyway..." He stopped as a thought occurred. "...wait, what happened to my body?"

The Spy thought about this. "I am the Spy," he said finally.

"Yes, yes, you are the Spy and I am the Tirek! Where is my body?!"

Slowly, a smile appeared on the Spy's face. "To the left!"

Tirek glanced in the indicated direction and saw an open wide doorway leading outside. "You brought it with you? Well... I suppose I might be able to work with that." Then his head tilted curiously. "I must say, you're being very obliging for somecreature I left trapped in Tartarus."

"...I am-"

"The Spy, yes, I know. Well, let's go see what you did with it."

The Spy gestured graciously. "After you."

"How kind," Tirek sneered. He managed to throw the rocket launcher onto the cart, which he then pushed through the doorway.

He didn't hear the footstep behind him, didn't hear the metallic click of a butterfly knife being unfolded, didn't hear the quiet chuckle...

Tirek squinted as he stepped into the sunlight, then looked around. "Well? Where is it?" He turned angrily. "If you've damaged it, I-"

He stopped. The RED Spy was just behind him, arm raised and knife at the ready.

He was also on fire.

"I appear to have burst into flames," he commented, surprisingly calmly as the blaze consumed him. Then he collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

Tirek stared at the corpse, then lifted his gaze to the figure who had been just behind it.

The RED Pyro was also staring at the fallen Spy, their strange weapon still pointing at the burning body. Then, ever so slowly, the Pyro lifted their head until the black mask was pointed directly at Tirek, his own borrowed face reflected in those soulless lenses. The Pyro waited until they were sure they had Tirek's full attention, then pulled the trigger on the weapon. A gout of flame leapt from the nozzle on the device and added to the flames still licking at the now blue-suited figure.

(In the Pyro's mind, the BLU Spy was simply overcome with laughter due to being smothered in tickling bubbles. They knew the others didn't approve of bubbles and so didn't share them with the rest of the team, but Pyro was feeling uncharacteristically angry and was inclined to break that rule for this not-Spy imposter.)

Tirek watched, horrified, as the mouth of the flamethrower was raised to point at his face. The pilot light flickered ominously as he took a step backwards, only to fetch up against the cart. "I feel as if we have gotten off on the wrong hoof," he said desperately.

Pyro paused, puzzled, but only for an instant. They said nothing, their gloved grip tightening on the flamethrower's handle.

The former centaur quickly circled around the cart, turning it to give the Pyro a better view of its contents. "Would you like some guns? I have many-"

A boot lashed out, launching the cart toward and onto the nearby tracks. Five seconds later a train atomized it.

Tirek scrabbled yet further away from the beast before him, until finally there was a metal fence at his back. "What is it you want?!"

"Hrrrrrrrrr...!" It was a rising growl, the noise a hound makes when it's about to bite...

"There y'are, Spy! What the hell are you doin' all the way back here?"

They turned to see Engineer trotting closer. His goggles and hardhat tended to obscure some of his facial expressions, but he definitely looked annoyed. "You were supposed to be workin' on takin' out that sentry! Good thing Scout finally managed to distract it with that radium-flavored swill of his and..." He stopped, taking in the tense situation between his teammates, and the burning corpse on the ground. "...is, uh... is there a problem, fellas?"

Pyro looked back at Tirek for a long moment, then holstered their flamethrower. "...nrr." They turned and trudged toward the RED base, not looking back.

Engineer scratched his head under the hardhat, concerned, then delivered a light smack to Tirek's temple. "Well?" he asked as the former centaur glared at him. "I hope y'all had a good reason for abandonin' the mission."

Tirek glanced at the train tracks where his cart of munitions had met its end, but realized the Engineer probably wouldn't accept 'I was collecting guns for personal gain' as a valid excuse. "I... had my own mission to complete."

"Huh? The hell are you talkin' about?"

Inspiration flashed. "It was given to me by... the dragon herself."

The Engineer's annoyance seemed to ebb slightly, replaced by uncertainty. "The Administrator gave you a separate mission? She ain't never done that before. What kind of mission?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

The Engineer frowned. "I don't like it, folks being given secret objectives, but I guess complainin' won't do any good. And maybe this ain't much different than the contracts Miss Pauling sometimes gives us..." Then he looked at Tirek. "Fine, then. But couldja at least make sure you tell us if you're gonna run off on your own?"

"...very well." He tried not to look relieved, which was not actually difficult. He was relieved, but that was tempered by the loss of his stockpile of weaponry, and it didn't seem like he'd be able to get away with that again. He'd have to think of something else...

"C'mon, then. Let's get packed up and ready to go."

"Go where?" Tirek didn't ask. He felt he was treading on thin crystal in the 'being found out' department as it was. "Yes, of course," he said instead, and trailed after the Engineer to where, he assumed, the strange conveyance that had brought them here was waiting. It was cramped, shook unpleasantly and smelled of unfamiliar chemicals and body odor, but at least it was a reprieve from the constant danger of the battlefield.

Besides, he considered, after facing down that... thing and its fire weapon, their next destination couldn't be that bad.

Which only goes to show you could be a centuries-old megalomaniacal tyrant and still make the dumbest possible assumptions.

The rest of the day went past in a blood-red haze for Tirek. Most of his experiences he would work very hard to forget, with little success.

Probably the worst happened in a huge white room filled with whirring machinery, where his legs were separated from his body by a small, unassumingly spiky blue sphere. Given that he had woken up once recently missing a pair of limbs, having it happen again seemed rather unfair. Soldier had carried him to the one called Medic while Scout tracked down the wayward appendages. He'd cringed at the sight of the Medic's strange device, as it reminded him a bit too much of the Pyro's weapon, but getting the limbs reattached was oddly straightforward, even though Scout tried to set them in place backwards as a joke.

Or perhaps the worst was when they'd returned to the site of his initial victory, near the town of Teufort, which had given him a certain confidence. He'd been experimenting with the invisibility talisman on his wrist, and took what seemed to be the obvious tactic of strolling up to the enemy's briefcase and walking away with it. The BLU team's engineers and their sentient explosion machines wouldn't notice a thing! But when his hand touched the case, for some reason the spell chose that exact moment to fail. He wasn't sure how he'd made it out of there alive.

Then there was lunch, and that had been horrific in its own special way. He'd spurned the waxy blocks and oozing pouches within the "MRE" that Soldier had pressed upon him as if it had been finest cuisine, and instead finished off his pocket bacon. Admittedly, it had been quite cold, extremely greasy, lint-covered, and rather damp with brackish water from when he'd fallen into the moat at Well, but it had tasted fine at first. And then they'd gotten back in the transport van - the stuffy, jolting, odorous van - and... things had happened. The team had had to take a detour to something called a 'rest stop' while the back of the van was washed out. It seemed to Tirek that much of the good will he'd felt that morning was wearing thin at that point.

They'd arrived at a place called 'Coal Town', and the sight of giant metal mercenaries didn't worry Tirek much. He'd seen stranger things in his long life. Even the huge boxes called tanks didn't concern him. But as he'd been leaning against the Engineer's dispenser, letting its healing aura soothe his flesh wounds and abrasions, his teammate had said something about a 'sentrybuster', packed up his explosion machine with one swift motion, and trotted away. Tirek had peered over the top of the dispenser to see a huge unassumingly spiky blue sphere. With legs. That had been particularly uncalled for, and felt like a personal attack. Especially when it exploded.

And then they'd been deployed to Mann Manor, which was what had been described as a "transphasic anomalous holiday zone". Tirek had only been out of Tartarus for a single Nightmare Night, but it seemed similar, filled with gaudy decorations of an allegedly 'spooky' nature. As aesthetics went, he didn't mind it too much. Until... until the massive skeletal human with a pumpkin for a head climbed out of the ground itself, wielding an axe bigger than he was. His reattached legs had gotten a serious workout there.

By the time they reached Sawmill, the rest of the team had apparently gotten quite tired of rescuing Tirek from his misfortunes, and while the Heavy and Engineer kept the enemy team contained within their base, the others cheered on the Pyro as the thing repeatedly bounced Tirek over the giant spinning sawblades that were the battleground's namesake. They made bets to see where his limbs would go next. He was sure he was missing a toe or two at the end of it.

But then at last the day was over, and the mercenaries piled back in the van, with Tirek (or what was left of him) thrown in any old how.

He never thought he'd miss his time in Tartarus.

It turned out his troubles that day had not quite ended.

"...of all the boneheaded displays I've ever seen, pardner, you take the cake!" The Engineer's begoggled face was mere inches from the one Tirek was borrowing. "What in Sam Hill was that all about?"

"What exactly are you referring to?" he said carefully.

"What am I referrin' to?! Spy, you're always goin' on about what an expert you are, actin' like you're better'n all of us put together! What I saw out there today would put the greenest rookie to shame! What's goin' on with you?"

"Nothing is going on with me! You're... you're just imagining things!"

Engineer scowled and leaned back. "Is it somethin' to do with the Administrator? Did she put you up to this?"

Tirek hadn't spent long in the draconic female's presence, but he'd acquired a fairly good idea of what would happen if he implicated her. "I... can't say."

"That ain't good enough!" Engineer snarled, pounding the table. "We're supposed to be a team, goddammit! Why are you-?!"

A huge hand fell on the Engineer's shoulder. "Perhaps our friend is just hungry," the Heavy suggested, an odd expression on his face. "He did not keep down his lunch, after all."

Engineer looked up at the Russian incredulously. "You think that kinda incompetence happened because of a missed meal?!"

Heavy shrugged. "Spy lost very much blood at Turbine. Medigun has limits." He reached into a triangular holster and pulled out a bundle of bread, lettuce, tomato, and alleged meat, offering it to Tirek. "Here. Have sandvich."

The Engineer stared at the edible device in confusion. "But... Spy doesn't..." Then he stopped and fell silent.

Tirek cautiously took the sandvich, examining it carefully. It was room temperature and smelled odd, but not bad. And it had indeed been a long time since breakfast. He took a small bite, then a larger one. "Mmm. This is... actually rather good." Another bite. "Yes, that's much better."

The huge man nodded, then straightened up. "Heavy is going to do weapons check."

As he left, he bumped heavily into Engineer, who got the message. "Yeah, and, uh, I'll go... look at the van." He looked again at Tirek, who was already halfway through the sandvich. He started to speak, then stopped and walked outside.

As he stepped into the moonlight, he saw Heavy leaning against a wall, arms crossed. "Heavy has met many Spies since being hired," he said, apparently to himself. "Fought alongside some, killed many more." He lifted his head and met the Engineer's gaze. "I have never met Spy who actually liked sandvich."

Engineer nodded slowly. "I think," he said, "that we'd better have a nice long chat with our buddy in there."

"May be difficult," Heavy pointed out. "If Administrator involved, he may not want to talk."

A light flared in the darkness, and Pyro stepped out from the shadows, flamethrower held at the ready.

Engineer inclined his head to the newcomer, a gesture of apology. "Maybe so," he said, "but I bet he just needs the right motivation."

Author's Note

Ehn. Not the best chapter, I admit, but it's the bit that needs to go here. The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise.

Good Lord! You fight like a mare!

It was true what they said: no plan survived first contact with the enemy.

Mare and centaur stared each other down, preparing for the battle yet to come. The magic of Tartarus was rejuvenating Tempest, undoing the evident self-damage caused by the energy she had sent through her body, and she seemed to be standing taller with each passing second. Logic suggested that Spy charge at her while she was still weakened, but logic also had to take into account the sparks leaping from Tempest's broken horn, ready to send a blast of lightning into him at a moment's notice. There was little he could do but wait, the atmosphere between them growing ever more tense...

"What happened? What's going on? I can't see!"

...though slightly tarnished by a certain nattering voice in the background.

"C'mon, why isn't anypony saying anything? Dang it, Spy, you make a better door than a window!"

The display of sparks went out, and Tempest shook her head ruefully. "Way to kill the mood, kid..." She looked at Spy. "Go ahead. Tell her."

Without looking away from the mare, Spy said, "She... burned the poison from her system."

"She did what?!" Cozy Glow demanded. "Since when can she do anything like that?! I've never heard about it!"

"Well, it's not like it's something I advertise," Tempest said calmly, moving forward again. "I wasn't popular in the Storm King's army, and some of his other lieutenants figured they could take me out the easy way. I was just lucky I found out I could fix myself, or I wouldn't be here." She stopped in front of Spy and smiled up at him. "And if I went around telling everyone, then maybe some creatures wouldn't spend all their time and resources on the wrong way to put me down."

He returned her gloating grin with a scowl of his own. "This changes nothing."

"Doesn't it?" she shot back.

"Cozy Glow and I will be leaving this dismal place. You can depend on that."

"Oh, big talk, Mister Assassin. Looks to me like you're not going anywhere. Not until Twilight gets here, in any case. The big door's still closed, and I'm the only one here who can open it."

He smiled placidly down at her. "We'll have to see about that." In fact he'd devoted considerable thought to how the door mechanism worked; confirmation that it was keyed to Tempest in some way allowed him to discard a few possibilites, though that had always been a high probability.

She watched him for a moment. "I don't get it. I know why Tirek would've busted out, but why aren't you willing to wait for Twilight? If anypony can help you get back to your own world, she can."

"That," he informed her, "is not my priority right now. If any such negotiations are to take place, they will happen when the filly and I are both free of this place and out from under Celestia's thu... hoof."

Tempest glanced past him at Cozy Glow, then lowered her voice. "You're really willing to risk being trapped in Equestria just for her sake?"

He bristled. "That's not your concern," he said stiffly.

She chuckled. "Oh... wow," she said in an admiring tone, "Now I really wish I'd met you sooner." She took a few steps backwards. "So... I guess we're doing this."

"I can't see any other options," he agreed. "We have mutually incompatible goals."

"That we do. To tell the truth, I've always kind of wondered if I could've taken Tirek down. I mean, before he turned castle-sized."

They began to circle one another. "I doubt this will be a similar experience."

"True, but it's as close as I'm probably gonna get. And no hard feelings about the poison and all, but I'm not going easy on you here. I've got a promise to keep."

He made a face. "Of course. The 'honorable warrior' trope. That's never really been my style, to be honest."

"Yeah, I kind of figured, what with the whole assassin thing." Then she laughed and shook her head. "Wow. I'm really about to fight a centaur assassin from another world. This is comic book stuff."

"I'm glad one of us is enjoying this," he said wryly.

"Hey, Equestria's a pretty peaceful place. I don't get a lot of chances to cut loose." Tempest stopped and looked up at him. "Ready?"

"Naturally," he lied, and settled into a ready stance. "At your leisure."

She favored him with a fierce and eager grin, then charged forward, the distance between them closing frighteningly fast...

The next few minutes would be an education in the field of sentient ungulate combat, which would later serve Spy well (though not enough to avoid tragedy) during the Great Wildebeest Uprising of 1987. They would also confirm what he had suspected, despite his earlier bravado: in the field of hand-to-hoof combat, Tempest significantly outclassed him.

She surprised him by first going low rather than leaping at him, sliding underneath his barrel. Before he could step away, she kicked upwards, propelling him a foot in the air and inducing a brief bout of nausea that suggested the centaur's stomach was in the lower torso. He managed to land on his hooves and tried to turn to face her, but she swiftly raced around him, staying in his blind spot.

It wasn't just a matter of physical prowess, though that was definitely an issue. In terms of raw strength, he felt he probably had the edge, but that was difficult to judge as the little equine was so fast it was hard to land a blow. Tirek's hulking form was not built for speed, and she knew exactly how to take advantage of that fact.

A flurry of kicks aimed at his shins forced him to dance backwards; healing magic or no, a broken leg was a fight ender, and while Tirek's ankles weren't quite as spindly as those of an Earth horse, he saw no reason to take chances. Quickly he spun, swinging one huge hand toward her; she easily slipped out of reach as though she'd been expecting the grab.

He'd been hoping that she would be as much at a loss as he was when fighting against an unfamiliar body type; how much practice could a pony have gotten fighting against a creature with arms? Quite a lot, it seemed; he knew little about this 'Storm King' and the army she had been part of, but given how easily she was adapting, it appeared likely they were bipedal, or at least she'd trained with some. And, of course, he presented her with a much larger target.

Now she leapt, a spinning strike that met arms desperately crossed to block. He slid backwards from the impact, hooves leaving deep gouges as they scraped across the stone.

But the plain fact of the matter was that Spy wasn't much of a martial artist. Oh, he'd dabbled, and was familiar with any number of ways to dispatch an opponent with his bare hands, but most of them were reliant on said opponent having human anatomy; pressure point strikes, joint locks, choke holds, and so on. He was much happier with a blade in his hand, or more accurately in his target's back. Now he was having to dredge up forgotten techniques and adapt them on the fly to a foe a fraction of his size and completely the wrong shape, and this was especially difficult because he didn't have time to think...

Tempest launched another series of kicks toward his midsection, or at least what he naturally thought of as his midsection, and while he managed to slap some of them away a few slipped through. A searing pain in his chest told him of a cracked rib, and he stumbled backward yet further, edging closer to the edge of the plateau. The pit meant defeat; there was no way he could climb back up in this body, especially with the hound watching him. And that, he realized, was the mare's goal.

There was no way around it: in a straight contest of skill and power, in a fair fight, there was no way he could beat Tempest Shadow.

He made another clumsy grab at Tempest, and she easily slipped away... but then his hand fell upon its true target, one of the metal bars of his cage, the pieces of which were strewn about the plateau. With a quick movement he snapped it across the ground toward the mare; she didn't see it coming, and as it collided with her legs and fell beneath her hooves, Tempest dropped painfully to the ground.

But then, he abhorred a fair fight.

Spy immediately pressed the advantage, stomping down on her fallen form. She managed to push herself away from the descending hoof, and stone splintered where it fell. Tempest rolled to her hooves and rose to face him again, but he was already upon her, hands seeking sensitive ears to twist and overlarge eyes to poke. Not the most sophisticated of tactics, to be sure, but his options were rather limited.

Finally, despite her best efforts to evade, he got lucky and managed to seize one foreleg. He swiftly pulled her up and grabbed a hind leg with his other hand, then lifted her above his head with a triumphant bellow. Victory! This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. No matter how strong or fast she was, that meant nothing without the leverage to use it. She was helpless in-

Waves of electricity flowed across her body, into his hands and down his arms. His shout turned to one of agony, and he involuntarily released the source of the pain. Tempest twisted in the air and kicked, both rear hooves connecting with his chin and sending him back a few steps. He shook his head to clear it and rubbed at the point of impact, then looked at Tempest, who had moved several yards away and was panting heavily. "Nice try," she admitted between gasps, "but it's not going to be that easy."

He glowered at her as he felt the pain fade, courtesy of Tartarus. His rib, too, felt nearly healed; the process was not so quick as a medigun, but it was a familiar sensation nonetheless. With the prison's spells constantly restoring health and stamina, they could potentially do this all night, which of course was another advantage to Tempest. The moment Twilight Sparkle arrived in the morning, it was all over for him.

Stupid! How could he have forgotten she could do that? He should have thrown her into the pit the moment he'd laid hands on her! But... no. He still needed the key around her neck, and odds were good he would need her person, if not her cooperation, to open the door. (There was a way around her electric field, he realized, but this far from the door it would be poorly timed.)

Oh, well. Time for round two.

He feinted to the left, then launched himself to the right, where a pile of wood and metal marked the final position of his cage. No time to be picky; he reached for the largest fragment of lumber he could see as he galloped past and snatched them up. It was awkward to hold and its rough edge stabbed into his palm, but it would have to do. A properly broken bone or two should take the wind out of her. One of the bars would have been a far more suitable weapon, but he saw no reason to facilitate his own electrocution.

A fraction of a second later, the pile was blasted apart by a bolt of lightning and he was peppered with splinters once again. Tempest had guessed his strategy a moment too late.

Turning at speed, he discovered, was difficult in this body, but slowing down meant being an easier target as more magical projectiles lanced past him and continuing in a straight line meant an appointment with the pit, so he did his best to lean into the turn. It was a near thing, the edge coming up faster than he'd anticipated, but then there was the rock wall that went around part of the plateau, and it was sufficiently curved to allow him to run along it for a few steps.

Once his hooves returned to proper ground, he reoriented himself and charged toward the mare; it was easier to dodge the blasts when he could see her preparing to fire. He sped up and bore down on her, arm raised with his makeshift club at the ready. Tempest managed to throw herself to the side as he thundered past, the wood painfully clipping her flank where his swing had just barely connected. With sweat running down her sides, she climbed to her hooves as Spy wheeled back toward her for another charge, and made a decision. He didn't notice the way the sparks around her broken horn changed, building into a clump rather than something fashioned to throw...

He was just a few steps away when she released the energy in a single blinding flash. The light seared into eyes that had become accustomed to the dim cavern glow for over a year; and he growled in pain and fell, sliding across the plateau before stopping in an aching heap.

Several long moments passed before he felt he could move again, spurred on by Cozy Glow's entreaties. "Spy! Spy! Get up, please!" And he tried, though the spots before his eyes made it difficult to sort everything out. He was acutely aware that very soon Tempest would be along to...

But there was no sound of approaching hoofsteps. Where was she? Surely she could have kicked him into the pit by now.

He forced himself to stand and rubbed at his eyes to help them clear. In due time he was able to make out a purple blur which was... not moving toward him.

He watched the blur carefully as his vision continued to return, and soon verified that it was indeed Tempest, but she was... just standing there. Not even looking at him, but taking deep lungfuls of air.

She was... winded? That seemed strange. Spy didn't know exactly how magic worked, but if that burst of light normally left her this exhausted, it was a poor tactical choice, even as a desperation move. And he didn't think he'd been close enough to victory to warrant such a move in any case. Plus, Tartarus seemed to sweep away physical exhaustion quite easily; even after his extended gallop he was barely sweating. So, why...?

A thought occurred, and he glanced around at the surrounding cavern. Could that be it? Perhaps, but the hypothesis needed to be tested. Still, it wouldn't do to allow his opponent to taint the experiment. He started to breathe heavily, as if feeling the same weariness as Tempest. "Getting tired... are we?" he called mockingly.

"Stuff it," she growled. "Just... just need to... catch my breath."

"Didn't quite get... all the poison out... I suspect," he suggested, improvising quickly. "It does have... nasty aftereffects, doesn't it?"

"Doesn't matter. You're getting tired too. I'm still... gonna whip your flank."

Good. Now she might not spend too much time wondering what was happening. Time to test his theory. He'd dropped his club, but fortuitously a bar had rolled nearby. He picked it up and hoped she wouldn't notice the odd way he was carrying it; this would require exact timing, and he might not be able to adjust his grip fast enough. He advanced toward her slowly. "Well, by all means, continue standing there. You'll make an easier target."

She managed to look up at him, advancing on her with a long metal bar, and was too tired to wonder why her opponent was making such an obvious mistake. Rather than waste breath on mockery, she simply gathered power once more and sent a bolt of electricity unerringly toward him...

...and he slammed the bar into the stone before him with every ounce of his magically-enhanced strength, as if driving in a flagpole. The bar sank several inches into the rock and stayed vertical when he hurriedly released it just before the lightning struck; it flowed through the bar into the ground, dispersing harmlessly.

He watched her carefully. Yes, there it was. Her legs were shaking from a fresh wave of exhaustion, her eyes had again become unfocused, and froth was beginning to rise on her sides. Spy had (naturally) been right: using her magic was draining her significantly, and here and now there was only one likely reason.

So... how to capitalize on this? Exhausted as she was, she could still shake it off and take him down if he tried to close in on her recklessly. Obviously the goal was to get Tempest to overextend herself to the point of unconsciousness, but she couldn't be baited forever; sooner or later she'd realize the need to conserve her magic. He needed to provoke her into one large expenditure of power, and he needed to do it quickly.

Fortunately, he knew the mare had a temper that, while usually well-controlled, had its limits. And he had just the thing to break past them.

Before Tempest could recover, he hurried over to Cozy Glow, who looked up at him in confusion. "Spy, what's going on with her? I can tell you're faking, but why is she so worn out?"

He gave her a brief smile. "A lesson for the student. Why would using her magic tire Tempest out, while I'm still fresh as a daisy?"

She frowned in thought. "Well, I guess Tartarus is helping you out, but I don't see why she's not-" Then she stopped, her eyes wide. "...because Tartarus was made as a prison for Tirek!"

"Precisely. The one thing it absolutely would not be set up to do is to restore magic to its inhabitants, and in fact would inhibit the use of magic as much as possible."

"So she's having to tap into her own natural magic, the same stuff Tirek takes!"

This angle hadn't even occurred to Spy, but he took care not to let it show. "Indeed. But it won't be long before she comes to the same conclusion. Give me... The Thing."

Cozy Glow's confusion returned, then she gasped. "You're going to...? Spy, no! She'll murder you!"

"That's the plan. Quickly, now!"

Reluctantly, she reached behind her cage and slid a loose wrapping of newspaper toward him. It created a slime trail where it passed, and he picked it up gingerly.

Tempest finally managed to escape from her fog, and looked up to see Spy advancing on her once again. She looked carefully; no lightning rod around this time, and though he was holding one hand behind his back, there was no way he could conceal another bar that way. "Nice trick," she snarled. "I shouldn't have fallen for that."

"Oh, don't feel so bad," he jeered. "You're doing quite well for-" A mere animal, rose in his mind, but no, not in front of Cozy Glow. One of Celestia's puppets? No, overdone. A hornless freak? Too personal; he didn't dislike the mare enough to go that far. "-someone like you," he concluded, rather lamely. He had to be losing his touch.

She didn't notice. "Yeah, well, you're not getting a second chance. I can take you down without-"

He brought his arm around and sent the bundle sailing through the air, leaving speckles of slime trailing behind it. It was an accurate throw and landed directly between the mare's eyes.

The remainder of the newspaper had been wrapped around the remainder of the fish, several handfuls of foul humours, stinking innards and half-cooked flesh. If the MannCo marketing team had heard about it, they probably would have called it the Un-Wholly Halibut or something similarly dreadful. Scout would have loved it.

Spy watched as realization of what she was now coated with began to dawn, followed quickly - very, very quickly - by overwhelming rage. Sparks began to coalesce around her horn once more, and he grinned mirthlessly and braced himself. This would hurt, no doubt, but she wouldn't have fallen for the grounding trick again. He just had to trust in this bulky body and the power of Tartarus to allow him to withstand...

...that was... a rather large amount of sparks, wasn't it?

With a scream of fury, Tempest unleashed a coruscating... well, tempest of lightning, which struck him directly. As he flew backward from the impact, he had just enough time to see her droop briefly, staring back at him... and then her eyes went wide in horror.

Her aim was true. His trajectory was unfortunate.

It was a clean, powerful shot, and he didn't so much as bounce before he struck Cozy Glow's cage.

Momentum transferred, and rather than falling into the pit, he rolled to a stop at its very edge. His head had fallen back and was in position to see the cage sailing in an arc through the air. It was headed in the rough direction of the doors, but clearly wouldn't make it that far. It might hit the middle of the three sets of stairways leading to the plateau, but would more likely drop into the near side of the pit.

He quickly righted himself and reached out, a wholly futile gesture. "NO!"

The cage reached the top of its arc and began to descend. The filly screamed in fright.

There was nothing he could do, not in this oaf of a body. The cage would shatter at the bottom of the pit, and even if Tartarus preserved her life, there would be horrific injuries she would have to suffer through...

Rapid hoofsteps behind him, then impacts along his lower torso and back. With sweat streaming down her body, Tempest was pushing herself past her limits, climbing up him in full gallop to get as much height as possible. She leapt, sparks gathering for one last bolt. It struck home, and the cage popped higher into the air, spinning wildly. The mare landed on the middle stairway, hooking a desperate hoof over the edge to keep from falling off. She looked up to see the results of her efforts... and her heart sank.

It hadn't been enough. The new arc was too high. The only thing she'd changed was that Cozy Glow would now fall into the pit on the other side of the walkway.

Tempest grit her teeth and tried to pull together another bolt, but only a trickle of sparks gathered at her horn. She was entirely spent. "No..." Tears welled in her eyes as the shame and regret swept through her.

And then the ground shook. Spy stood over her, his eyes fixed on the tumbling cage. "Spy," she began, "I-"

Two huge red hands closed around her barrel, and he lifted her up and back behind his shoulder, his expression one of keen concentration. She guessed what he was going to do far too late to object.

With all his strength, Spy hurled the mare toward the cage, and his aim, too, was true. They collided with a crash, the impact sending them at speed toward the pile of empty cages near the door. The cage bounced twice, sending up sparks from the stone floor each time, before sliding to a stop, wedged between one of the larger cages and the cavern wall. Tempest was thrown free with the first bounce and rolled for several yards, stopping only when inertia lost interest. She groaned. It was the best she could manage at the moment.

She vaguely heard hoofsteps approach and go past her, in the direction of the cage. "Miss Glow! Are you all right?"

There was the oddly distinctive sound of a half-digested hayburger being released from captivity.

"...you'll be fine."

The hoofsteps approached once more, and a big red blob stood over her. "What about you, Miss Tempest? Still with us?"

"Y... yeah." Nothing felt broken, at least. "I'll manage."

"Good."

The blob moved, and she felt a sting on her neck. "Well, what do you know," Spy mused as fresh vertigo was added to her bone-deep weariness, "I still had some poison left after all."

She felt his hands close around her body and lift her up again. "...you dirty..."

"My apologies, Miss Shadow, but I think I'm not going to underestimate you anymore. Now, let's see here..." A hand went to her neck, dug inside her clothes. "...no key? Where did you leave it?"

"...n..."

He calmed himself. "Well, perhaps unsurprising that you've lost it. You've had a busy day. We can look into that later. For now..." He started walking, and she could guess his destination. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but her strength was only slowly returning.

"Ah, here we are. This bit looks much newer than the rest of the door. It must be part of the revised security measures Miss Glow told me about."

She cursed silently. But the door lock had been crafted using cutting-edge thaumaturgy; there was no way he could figure out-

"Now, I didn't hear you speak any pass phrases when you left earlier, and I see no keyholes or whatnot, so some kind of biometric lock seems likely," he continued, almost cheerfully. "So where... ah, this flat plane of crystal looks about right. I don't imagine you lot have discovered retinal scanning?"

What scanning? What? "fsz."

"Quite so. Then is it based on facial recognition, or... ah, no, I see a bit of dirt here at the bottom. Soil, specifically, and not cave dust. Oh, dear, just a hoofprint lock? For a maximum security prison? Well, you're making do with what you have, I'm sure..."

He took her hoof and pressed it against the crystal, which glowed yellow for several seconds, then a bright green. The door rumbled and began to open, and Spy grinned broadly. "Speak, friend, and ex-"

For the second time that day, searing light stabbed into his eyes, and he reflexively lifted his hands to cover them. The sun was still up?! Preposterous! It had been near to setting hours ago!

("Please, sister, I promise I'm feeling much better! Put the Sun down and let's talk about this!"

"Princess, I swear to you, I'm revoking your pastry privileges if you keep this up!"

"NO DREAMS ONLY SUN!")

It was then Spy realized he'd make a fatal mistake. In shielding his eyes, he'd released Tempest. The realization came as a twin impact of hooves to what, if not for centaur anatomy, would have been his stomach. He was thrown back surprisingly far and landed in the big cage next to Cozy Glow's, and its door seemed to automatically swing shut. He quickly moved to open it, but despite having no lock or latch, it seemed to be stuck fast.

"...bugbear... cage." Tempest managed from near the exit. "Won't be... breaking out of... that one." She started dragging herself toward the door and the now-inert locking mechanism.

He swore and glared in her direction, his mind swiftly creating and discarding courses of action. Finally he turned toward Cozy Glow and inspected her cage. "Where's the lock?" he demanded. He hadn't tried to break it off earlier, for fear of alerting Tempest with the sound, but that was no longer a concern.

"It's at the bottom here, jammed against the rock!" she said in a panic. "I can't get to it!"

"Then stand back as best you can." He broke one cage, after all...

She squeezed herself against the opposite side of the cage, and he brought his fist down on its roof. The wood shook from the impact, but despite his incredible power didn't break. He started hammering at it desperately; Tempest was getting closer by the second.

"Hurry," the filly pleaded.

"I know!"

A crack appeared in the wood at about the same time as he heard the doors rumble once more. The mare had succeeded, and was now laying in a heap at the base of the green-glowing lock.

No time left. He grabbed the weakened cage and tried to pull it apart. "Once I get this open," he told her, "fly through the door away from here as fast as you can. Keep low to the ground and look for cover wherever you can. Don't stop for anything."

She nodded up at him from between the bars. "Got it! And I'll come back for you when-"

"No! Just go far away, somewhere they can't find you! Don't worry about me!"

"I'm not going to abandon you, Spy!"

"You must! The only important thing here is getting you away from Tartarus!"

"No way!" She smiled, despite her distress. "We villains have to stick together, y'know?"

He could have said anything. He could have said "I'll find my own way out." He could have said "I'll get them to send me back to my own world." He could have said "I've been in far worse situations than this."

He said "You're not a villain, Cozy Glow!"

Time seemed to freeze around her. "W... what?"

The crack grew wider as he pulled. "You aren't a villain! You're a child! You need a family, not a prison!"

It was, he realized later, something that needed to happen, but here and now it was destroying her world. Her expression ran the gamut from incomprehension to disbelief to sorrow...

...to rage.

Her wingtips went to her mouth and she whistled sharply. "Cerberus!"

As the huge doors continued to close, the ground shook noisily and then the hound scrabbled up from the pit, bits of newspaper dangling from between his teeth. He looked at Cozy Glow expectantly.

She pointed at Spy, who was staring up at the beast in confusion. "Shake him up!"

With a quick bark, Cerberus complied, seizing the larger cage with two of his heads and rattling Spy around like a rat in a barrel. Finally he released the cage and tossed it against the wall; Spy ended wrong way up, stunned and bewildered.

"Now," Cozy Glow continued, "put my cage back on a plateau, then put his on a different one. As far away from me as possible!"

The three-headed hound picked up the filly's cage much more carefully than he had the larger one, and turned to carry her away. Spy saw tears in her eyes as she watched him. "I thought you understood," she said quietly. "I thought you, of all creatures, understood."

And then she was gone. The doors to Tartarus closed with a deep thud, eliminating the last rays of sunlight from the cavern.

What... what had just happened? Why did she react so strongly? He'd known she fancied herself a villain, but to forego escape just because...?

As he sat there, trying to organize his thoughts, he heard hoofsteps approach from behind him. Mare and centaur watched as, in the distance, Cerberus carefully set his charge down and started to head back. "...what happened to her?" Spy asked softly, not really expecting an answer. "What causes a little girl to think she is a villain?"

She sighed. "That's the million bit question, isn't it? Nobody knows. Except maybe the Princesses, and they're not telling." Tempest paused. "For what it's worth, though, I was rooting for you."

"Then-"

"Not to get out, obviously. But... with her. She needs a friend. A real friend, not one she's twisted around. You're the closest thing she's got."

He didn't answer. Cerberus returned, and carried his cage deeper into the cavern, toward a different stairway.

Then he heard a slow, sad guitar playing a familiar tune. Her voice rose in song. "Villain to villain..."

He snorted. "Oh, good. A reprise." He couldn't worry about that, though. He had more on his mind than impromptu enforced musical routines.

"Villain to villain..."

He would have to rethink his plans for tonight if he was going to salvage the situation. It would be self-defeating to try to employ the Tirek persona again. "No use for disguise," he mused.

And then, without thinking about it, without ever even realizing it, his voice shifted into a clear, opera-quality tenor. "My last recourse is to talk to the horse..."

Then, despite his dejection and despair, he found himself smiling a most malicious, wicked, evil smile. "...and give her a big... SURPRISE."

Author's Note

FISH KILL!

This... is a centaur. (Dear God!)

It had been decades since the Administrator had last slept. Sleep, she'd decided, was inefficient, and had done away with it. And it wasn't as if she had the time for it in any case; apart from monitoring the various packs of murderous goons in her employ, covering up all the many (many) crimes they committed, and making sure the Redmond and Blutarch estates continued their feuding even after their principals had shuffled off the mortal coil, she still had to engage in crucial resource gathering. It was this task that led her to being on the phone in the dead of night, an overflowing ashtray before her.

"...and you're certain this is your country's entire supply, your Highness?" She listened to the response. "The deal is done, then. Seven million American dollars for three pounds of Australium, payment due on receipt by my agent in Cidade de Nacala. Yes. Indeed. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Ma’a assalaamah."

The Administrator did not hang up the phone, but instead pushed a button, changing to another line. "I apologize for the delay, Captain Rostov. Yes, I have confirmed the package will be en route from Kuwait City to Nacala in Mozambique within the day. I will send you the vessel's details when I have them. Yes. As agreed, two million American dollars on receipt by my agent in Mombasa. Hmm? Well, I could care less about your feud with the Kenyan cartel, do you want the job or not? Quite. Good day, Captain. Do svidaniya."

Another button. "Mister Chebet? Yes. As I mentioned, I have information on the pirate known as Rostov. He should be heading to Mombasa some time in the next few days. I give you this information freely; I seek only the cargo he carries, a small canister weighting roughly three pounds. I would be willing to part with seven hundred and fifty thousand American dollars for its retreival. Is that acceptable? Good. You may deliver it to my agent in Mogadishu. Oh, don't worry about the Somalian military. I have it on good authority they will be on maneuvers in the north for the next few weeks. All right, then. I'll call back with the details later. Kwaheri."

Another button. "Ah, General Dihoud, I'm grateful that you could take my call. Listen, the Kenyan cartel has stolen an item of mine, and I have learned they will be attempting to sell it at the Mogadishu docks within a week. If you were willing to confiscate it, my agent will be on hand to recover it in exchange for a generous donation of, say, one hundred thousand American dollars? Of course. It's been nice speaking to you again. Macsalaamayn."

The Administrator finally hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair. She did not sigh, but simply took a long drag on her omnipresent cigarette and blew the smoke upwards, where it joined the permanent haze near the ceiling.

Nobody appreciated the work she did to keep this operation running. She could have just walked away years ago, but she was too dedicated. Yes, that was her problem, she decided while ordering a fresh batch of neurotoxin. She was just too nice.

A cycling image on the wall of monitors before her caught her eye, and she flicked a switch to pause the display. She regarded it for a long moment, then snorted. "Well. It was bound to happen eventually." She moved the image to a larger monitor and activated the audio, then leaned in to watch...

Spy was an incredibly paranoid person, for very good reason, and regularly swept his quarters for bugs and other listening devices. The Administrator, therefore, had needed to devote some extra effort. Upon acquiring the Chalice of Yu She, a goblet used to murder no less than seven Chinese emperors, a tiny microphone and camera were artfully added to the serpent winding around its rim before putting it back on the market where Spy would certainly find it, and his love of the art of murder would make it irresistible. Though the Chalice was sturdy enough to withstand the installation process - while most of the assassinations were by poison, at least one was by blunt instrument - the Administrator knew Spy would not subject it to his usual thorough inspection routine, for fear of damaging the priceless artifact. Now the serpent's little ruby eyes swiveled to focus on the scene before it.

Only two sources of light were visible in the room. One was a stylish desk lamp, next to which sat the Engineer, his hands folded patiently. He stared up at what might be called the centerpiece of the tableau, to wit: the half-dressed form currently hung from the ceiling by his ankles, arms strapped to his sides. The Heavy loomed in the darkness next to the Engie, and presently leaned down and said quietly, "Should I...?"

"Nah, let him wake up on his own. Shouldn't take long."

In fact it was two more minutes before the discomfort of the position roused Tirek from his slumber; his mind welcomed the release from sequential nightmares, but his body desperately needed to recuperate after the day's activities. Once awake, however, confusion quickly changed to panicked flailing, and he started swinging randomly of his own accord. The Engineer let this happen for a little while, then nudged Heavy, who reached out and stabilized the former centaur with one massive hand, turning him to face the figure at the desk.

"...howdy, pardner," Engineer said, once he was sure he had Tirek's full attention. "Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but we got a couple few questions for ya."

"Wha... what is the meaning of this? Release me at once! At once, I say, or I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"...I'll..." He struggled for a moment, but his bindings seemed secure. "...be very cross."

"Thought so." The Texan rubbed his chin. "Gotta admit, the voice should've tipped me off from the start, even if Pyro didn't. Soldier said you were comin' down sick, but I shoulda realized that wouldn't have gotten rid of the accent. So, b'fore we go any further, just outta curiosity, I gotta ask: how'd you do it?"

Tirek paused in his wriggling. "Do...?"

"We've had folks show up gunnin' for Spy before," Engie continued conversationally. "People wantin' revenge for things he's done, or paid by people wantin' revenge. We usually only found out about it when we saw the pile of dead assassins in the mess hall. It'd take some serious skills to actually get to him, a Spy even better than Spy. And, son... that ain't you."

The would-be tyrant didn't even bother arguing the point.

"So how'd you manage it? Had to be the day before last, I reckon. There was a fire in the bread containment vault, and as best as I can tell we last saw our Spy just before then. When we got back, he was gone, and the next thing we knew we had you. Ringing any bells?"

Tirek felt like one, dangling like this, but remained silent. He'd suspected that his deception would be revealed eventually, but given how obviously superior he was to these apes, he never thought it would be this soon.

Engineer waited for a few moments, then shrugged philosophically. "Oh, well. That don't matter right now, I guess. We got more important questions anyway." He leaned forward. "This one, I'm only askin' once. Where. Is. Spy?"

...so be it, then. He could drop the act, which was something of a relief, but he would be a fool to reveal everything to them at this point. Still, though it didn't seem that honesty would do him many favors here, saying nothing would likely be worse. "He is... safe."

"Where?" rumbled the Heavy.

"Somewhere very far away." He paused as a thought occurred. "Somewhere you'll never find him... without my help."

Heavy started forward, but a gesture from Engineer held him back. "So. It's like that, huh? Some kinda ransom?"

"For now," Tirek admitted. "You'll get your precious Spy back in due time, but only if I decide to allow it." Which wasn't wholly true - he wanted his real body back, and that would necessitate giving Spy his - but the begoggled ape didn't need to know that.

"I get the feelin' you're overestimatin' how valuable Spy is. The Administrator would replace him without blinkin'."

"Perhaps, but I'm not talking to her right now, am I?" Tirek countered, remembering the cheers and adulation directed toward Spy that morning. "You care about your friend," and he didn't even try to keep the mockery out of his voice. "You don't want anything to happen to him. And so you don't dare eliminate me."

Engineer took this in thoughtfully. "'Friend' is goin' a bit far, but... fair enough. Spy's a snake, but he's our snake." He sat back. "So what's your angle here? What're you after?"

"That's none of your concern!"

"I reckon it is. Y'all decided to replace one of our teammates, and maybe the most difficult one to replace at that. Not to sell 'em short, but Scout? Soldier? Demo? Heavy? ...no offense." He glanced up at the Russian, who shrugged. "You showed up the spittin' image of them, and you mighta gotten away with it. Instead, you picked Spy."

"He was... uniquely placed to further my agenda," Tirek invented desperately.

"But you didn't do your research," Engineer continued. "You have no idea how we work or what we do, but you expected to take Spy's place. That don't add up."

Tirek was not enjoying this line of questioning. Time to end it. "Perhaps not to a simpleton like you..."

The Texan's eyebrows were not visible beneath his hard hat, but he seemed to be raising one.

"...but rest assured, my plan was elegant in its simplicity." He sneered at the seated figure, which lost quite a lot of impact due to being upside-down. "The only arithmetic you should be worrying about is the part where adding violence to me equals no Spy. So why don't you release me before I decide that this world has no more need of your esteemed compatriot?!"

And Tirek laughed, laughed at besting these primitive apes, laughed in revenge for the pain and suffering he'd endured, laughed for his certain victory against all odds, laughed right up until Engineer punched him dead in the face.

As he dangled there, stunned and slightly bleeding, the Engie pulled out his standard construction PDA and pointed more or less randomly at a spot on its screen. "Well, wouldja look at that," he said, showing it to Tirek. "My bullshit detector's right off the charts."

Tirek just groaned, waiting for the double vision to pass.

"Son, your story's got more holes in it than a Swiss cheese factory," Engineer told him. "I think we've put up with your tomfoolery long enough. So I'm gonna treat you to some Southern hospitality and give you not two, not three, but four options. Option one: you tell us what you did with Spy. We get him back, and we let you go free and clear, no harm done. Or, if you prefer, Heavy gets to pound on you like a side of beef." The Russian slammed one fist into the opposing palm and grinned menacingly. "That's option two."

Tirek stared at him, fighting back the rising (or possibly descending) panic. "I... don't think I like that one."

Engineer feigned surprise. "Really? Well, then. Let's ask your doctor if option three is right for you."

From Tirek's left, the Medic leaned suddenly into view. "Guten Abend!" he said with a little wave.

"Oh, no..."

Medic stepped closer to Tirek and scrutinized him closely. He ignored the blood trickling down the upside-down face and performed a complete visual examination, making several "Hmm" and "Yes, I see" noises. Finally he stood back and, with a short gesture of both hands, said: "Aliens."

Engineer frowned. "Again?"

"Ze technology required to make an exact replica of Spy is clearly extraterrestrial," Medic explained. "Add to zis ze imposter's ignorance of Earth culture, his reference to zis 'world', und Spy's inexplicable abduction, und I believe zat is ze only logical conclusion."

"Checks out," the Texan agreed. "It's a workin' hypothesis."

"Ah, but zat hypothesis must be tested." He opened one side of his lab coat revealing a very shiny collection of scalpels, bone saw, syringes, pliers, and other items of dubious medical ethics. "And vhat's a little vivisection between friends, ja?"

Tirek's borrowed skin crawled. "Definitely not option three!"

"Well, then. Let's see how you feel about option four." And Engineer took hold of his shoulder and gently rotated him...

...to face the second light source in the room.

The pilot light on Pyro's flamethrower glowed ceaselessly as the rubber-clad form stepped forward. As always, no expression was visible behind that mask, but body language spoke volumes, with appendices to spare.

Tirek's eyes went wide with fear. "...no..."

"What's it gonna be, son?" Engineer called as the three mercenaries closed in menacingly. "We pride ourselves on a wide variety of hurtin' to choose from."

"Oh, please pick me," Medic jeered. "I have so many experiments in mind."

(In her control room, the Administrator held her finger over the button that would flood Spy's room with knockout gas, the non-Australium-derivative kind. The memory modification technology at her disposal was a bit more crude than she might have liked, but she couldn't risk losing Spy's body this early, and it would be best if the mercenaries continued to accept Tirek's presence for the time being...)

"G-gentlecreatures..." Tirek tried, "let us discuss this peacefully..."

"NO!" Heavy bellowed, and suddenly the giant's face was inches from his own. "No more lies! You tell Heavy where Spy is now, or..." A massive fist was pulled back, ready for deployment.

"THIS IS SPY!" he shouted, eyes squeezed shut.

(Her finger paused, but was not removed.)

The mercenaries hesitated. Not a single one of them could completely discount the possibility that this had all been some elaborate prank on Spy's part. "Beg pardon?" Engineer asked.

"I mean this body is the body of your Spy. I am merely occupying it due to... circumstances beyond my control."

"Occupyin' it? The hell's that supposed to mean?"

Tirek rolled his eyes, and spoke as if explaining to a child. "It's a standard magical switcharoo situation. The core identity of one creature - call it the 'mind' or the 'soul' or what have you - is transferred into the body of another, and vice versa. It's a very well-documented phenomenon, although I've never heard of it happening with a creature on a different world."

"Hah! I knew it!" Medic chortled. "Alien!"

"I don't even know what that is!"

Engineer returned to the chair he'd been sitting in, spinning it around to sit in it backwards. He watched Tirek thoughtfully for a long moment. "Sounds like introductions are in order."

Tirek drew him self up, or rather down. "You are speaking to Lord Tirek, and I..." He paused briefly, deciding he should paint himself in the most harmless light possible. "...I am but a simple dabbler in the arcane arts." And he provided a heavily abridged and edited version of his time in Equestria, and how a minor miscalculation sent his mind across dimensions. He declined to mention his attempts to conquer his own world; while these apes seemed to be unoffended by war, there was no need to trouble them with details. It was, however, rather difficult to concentrate with Pyro standing directly behind him making menacing noises.

At the end of it, Engineer regarded him with a flat expression. "Are you tryin' to tell me that you're this interdimensional wizard-"

"Hrr," said Pyro, for emphasis.

"-who was imprisoned by these evil magical princesses for a thousand years-"

"Hrr!"

"-and just happened to jump into Spy's body when you tried to escape?"

"Hrr!" Pyro's hand rested on the trigger of their flamethrower.

"...yes?" Tirek replied nervously.

Tension rose briefly, then Engineer laughed and stood up. "Well, hell, son. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Hr-!" Pyro stopped and looked at the Engie in confusion. "Hrr?!"

"Well, I tried," Tirek said, "but the Administrator and that mousey female said I was being ridiculous and threatened to kill me! I thought my only option was to take Spy's place."

"Yeah, they ain't the most understandin' folk." He drew a knife from his belt and cut the rope that was looped around a ceiling beam. Tirek fell, and only avoided injury due to the impossible softness of Spy's bed. "And we're gonna do some checkin' to make sure you're on the up-and-up, but your story does explain the way you've been actin'. Takin' over Spy's body by accident makes a whole lot more sense than on purpose, considerin' the ham-fisted job you've been makin' of it. And, hell, it's not like it's even the strangest thing we've dealt with this week."

"Zhose libertarian yetis," Medic recalled, and shuddered in revulsion. "Ugh!"

Tirek squirmed out of the strap binding his arms and stood up. "Then, you're not going to pummel me?" He rubbed at his bloodstained lip. "Further?"

"Nah. That ain't really our style anyway. We mainly just wanted you to piss your britches a mite."

He looked down quickly. "Did I...?"

"Nah, you're good."

"Und ze physical torture can be so counterproductive," Medic added disapprovingly. "Now, ze psychological torture..."

"Hrr!" Pyro stepped in front of Engineer, clearly agitated. "Hudda hrr hoo!"

Engie crossed his arms. "Well, whaddaya want us to do, Pyro? Rough him up some more just for bein' here? If he's tellin' the truth, anything we do to him, we do to Spy. Even if we got him out of that cranium somehow, there's no guarantee we'd get Spy back. We gotta play the cards we're dealt."

Pyro bristled, but seemed to have no response to this.

The Engineer's expression softened, and he laid a hand on his teammate's shoulder. "I know it's gonna ruffle your feathers, having a fake Spy around, but you just gotta bear with it for now. Okay?"

"...hrr," Pyro didn't-quite-say with a nod.

(The finger was lifted. Well. Not exactly how she'd expected that encounter to resolve, but if Pyro was calmed, it seemed she didn't need to fear for Tirek's safety.)

Engie returned the nod, then looked at Tirek. "And you're sure Spy's safe in your body?"

Tirek snorted. "Trust me. Absolutely nothing interesting is likely to happen to him in Tartarus. Unless perhaps he antagonizes the princesses, or picks a fight with our jailer."

"'Our'?"

"Oh, there's another prisoner with him, but she's nothing to worry about."

"Fair enough. And Spy ain't the type to start trouble for no reason."

Heavy spoke up from his position leaning against the wall. "We still need know how to undo this... 'magical svitcharoo.'"

Tirek pretended to consider the matter, though in fact this was just another step in his plans. He had no compunction against using these oafs to aid his return to glory. "I need to find the rift that brought me here. If I can force it open wide enough, I should be able to pull my body through. From there, it would be a simple enough matter to reverse the switcharoo."

"Won't that just leave you trapped on this side?" Engineer pointed out. "Wouldn't you rather just swap your minds outright?"

"And stay in a cage another thousand years? No, thank you. Anything would be better, even this violent world. But I do want my body back, so don't worry about leaving your friend stranded." Then he frowned. "Finding the rift will be a problem, however. It need not be very large, and it could be anywhere." That was not, by any means, the only problem, but first things first.

"Well, if there's one thing I've learned over the past few years," the Texan said, "is that there ain't no problem we can't solve by throwin' enough bullets, bodies or Australium at it."

Heavy suddenly looked up. "Does anyvone hear that?"

As the Russian investigated, Engineer looked at Medic. "We still got them spectrometers from when we were up against those haunted commodes, doc?"

"Oh, ja. Zey just need some refurbishing and... a thorough cleaning. It shouldn't take more than, say, three pounds of Australium and a day or two to get zem back in working order."

Heavy peered at an ornate goblet on Spy's mantlepiece. "Snake is growling," he announced.

"Good," Engineer said, ignoring this. "Magic ain't really my forte, but I reckon we should be able to calibrate 'em to Tirek's thaumaturgical whatsis and backtrack to the point where he came through."

Tirek regarded him with something approaching respect. "That... might actually work."

"It's a plan, then. For now, though, we all better get some rest. Got a fight in the morning."

"It never ends with you creatures, does it?"

"It really don't. But after that, we should be able to start on huntin' your rift." As the others filed out, Engineer stood before the former centaur once again. "Oh, and Tirek?" he said with a broad smile.

"Yes?"

The smile, without changing in the slightest, somehow became noticeably sharper. "If you even think about double crossin' us, in whatever body you find yourself in, you're dead where you stand."

"...uh. Yes. Of course."

The Administrator took another long drag from her cigarette, sent another stream of smoke upwards, then ground the burned-out stub into her ashtray. The fools! Did they think Australium grew on trees?! It couldn't! She'd tried! She had to cut this off quickly, or that would be an evening's scheming and one hundred thousand dollars gone completely to waste. Oh, and multiple lives, as well, but that was hardly her problem.

Just then, a nearby machine began to screech with an extended sequence of beeps and scratches, then paper began to slowly emerge from its lid. The Administrator had lived a long time and had no nostalgia for the 'good old days' of technology, and had embraced the advancements of the dawning Information Age. Thus, she made sure her office was equipped with the most powerful, cutting-edge space age communication device money could buy: the Serendipity 4200 dot matrix printer, with a dedicated modem capable of receiving data at a blistering 1200 baud.

When enough of the green-and-white lined pin-fed paper had emerged to be worth the effort, she ripped out the page and perused it. This was normally part of Miss Pauling's many (many) duties, but she was otherwise occupied.

Hm. Just a battleground maintenance report. How trivial. Why did they even bother sending it directly to-

She stopped, then carefully read the last few words again, then the whole sentence, twice. She stared at the paper a few moments longer without really seeing it, her mind processing its options.

Finally, she reached out and flicked a switch on her control panel. Almost immediately, a monitor displayed the face of Miss Pauling, currently driving a battle-scarred pick up truck. She had swapped out her motorcycle for her current assignment; she needed something that could carry cargo. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Have you collected the package, Miss Pauling?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm heading back to headquarters now."

"Belay that." She regarded the paper again. "You are to rendezvous with the REDs at Badwater Basin in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am. May I ask why?"

"I suspect," the Administrator said, with a razor thin smile, "I am about to save myself one hundred thousand dollars."

She would eventually be proven wrong. Very, very, very wrong.

You are a Princess and a fool!

Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings and (in her own mind) destined ruler of Equestria, sat at the dining room table and wolfed down a tremendous pile of Yakyakistan-style cabbage rolls.

"MORE!" she bellowed. The pile never grew smaller, no matter how much she ate. "I demand more sustenance! ALL of it, until there is none left for you!"

Alicorn and unicorn stood nearby, watching this display. "...I have found," Luna began carefully, "that the appearance of Chrysalis in one's dream is generally a representation of a loved one or family member who is, perhaps, not as welcome as they should be?"

The unicorn sighed. "...my mother has recently come to visit."

"Ah. And you feel she is taking something from you?"

"Er... my, uh, patience, mostly," the other admitted.

"Are you all right? You seem nervous."

"I just never expected you to visit one of my dreams!"

Luna smiled gently. "No need to fret, child. I am here to help." She peered at the dream-Chrysalis. "I must say, this is an astonishingly accurate likeness."

The alicorn failed to notice the brief pause before her response. "Oh, I was in Canterlot when she attacked and got a good look at her. It... sort of stuck with me."

"Understandable. Well, you'll have to deal with your mother on your own terms, but at the very least you won't have to deal with her here." She passed a hoof through the ravenous changeling, who dissolved into dust. "Enjoy the rest of your sleep... er...?"

"Harmony Delight," the unicorn responded promptly.

Luna's eyebrows raised. "The singer?"

"You've heard of me?"

"My sister has your album..."

"Oh!"

"...though I must admit I find your music is a bit too modern for my tastes."

"...oh."

"But of course that's hardly your fault." Luna added quickly. "Now, I must attend to my other duties. Sleep well, Harmony."

"Thank you, Princess."

Luna stepped out of the dream without looking back, and so didn't see the unicorn, wild-eyed and panting heavily, suddenly lean against a wall, holding a hoof to her chest to fend off an imminent heart attack.

Stepping between the floating balls of light, the alicorn made her way across the Dream Realm. That should be the last of them, she thought, her every sense seeking evidence of a troubled dream. Fortuitously, it seemed to be another quiet night, which meant she could finally address the main issue on her mind. It had taken some effort to bring Celestia back to her senses, but 50cc of red velvet from the emergency supply managed to calm her down enough to listen to reason. Now her sister was sleeping peacefully, and a weary Equestria could finally get a good night's rest.

It would not be entirely accurate to say that Luna was completely recovered - she still sported a moderate headache that tended to flare up whenever she used her horn - but she couldn't afford to worry about that now. Not with an unknown creature loose in the Dream Realm. The lack of any disturbance among the dreamers was a good sign, but she had to remain vigilant; who knew what this entity was capable of?

Perhaps one knew...

After a brief search, she found the dream she sought, and stepped inside just in time to witness a thing she had dreaded for years.

Tirek. Uncaged. And fed.

This, Luna quickly realized, was less of a dream than a memory, and a very recent one at that. She watched in horror as the red centaur traded blows with a small purple figure, their battle ranging across the stone plateau in Tartarus. Watched as he gained the upper hand over his opponent, watched as he incapacitated her, watched as he opened the door to Equestria...

And then the scene shifted, showing the two squared against each other, preparing to do battle.

She nearly leapt out of the Dream Realm altogether to sound the alarm, but the Sunlight streaming through the door told her this had happened hours ago; there was no way for her to prevent his escape now. It was more important to gather information, to better prepare for a future encounter.

Then the two figures began to fight again, and now she noticed things seemed... off. Where were his gouts of fire? His energy shields? Perhaps Tartarus was inhibiting his magic, but the way he moved and fought, it was as if he didn't miss his normal array of powers at all. He fought... well, he fought like nothing Luna had ever seen. "What is going on here?" she murmured.

"He calls himself Spy. And right now he's probably the most dangerous creature in Equestria." Luna turned to see Tempest Shadow stepping through the air and stopping at her side. "Evening, Princess."

"Berrytwist." She looked back at the battling figures. "So, that isn't Tirek? Then, the magic surge we detected..."

"Yup. That was Tirek trying to escape. I don't know what exactly he was planning to do, but he ended up moving his mind to another dimension and switching bodies with Spy."

"Another dimension?! How?"

Tempest chuckled. "Beats me. That's a Sparkle question."

"And so this 'Spy' is the one who attacked me?"

"To be fair, he says he didn't mean it personally."

Luna snorted. "I find small comfort in that. Still, if he's escaped..."

"Oh, don't worry." The scene shifted again, and Tirek's body was sitting dejectedly in a large cage. "It was close, but nobody made it out today. I'm just going over the fight so I can do better next time."

"Next time?"

Tempest smiled slightly. "You never know."

"Why was he even fighting you? Surely you told him we would try to help him."

"Of course, but he's decided he'll leave Tartarus on his own terms or none at all. He was very clear about that."

"Hmm. You say he is from another world. I know Twilight Sparkle has told you about Star Swirl's mirror portal. Do you think he may be a human?"

The purple mare tilted her head. "Y'know, I hadn't thought of that. Maybe? From Sparkle's description, they're bipeds, right? Like minotaurs, but with different legs?" Luna nodded. "Yeah, that could work, considering how he fights. He wasn't one hundred percent comfortable with hooves, I noticed that much." Then she frowned. "But... Twilight described this cozy, friendly school on the other side, and... I don't see Spy fitting in there. He's an assassin."

"An assassin?!"

"So he says. And I don't have any reason to doubt it."

Luna shook her head. "What monster has Tirek brought to Equestria?"

To her surprise, Tempest's expression became rueful. "To be perfectly honest, Princess Luna? He's not that bad."

The alicorn just stared at her. "You cannot be serious."

Tempest shrugged. "Oh, he's a jerk, I won't deny that. He's sneaky and manipulative and fights dirty... but I don't think he's doing it for the wrong reasons. Not by his lights."

The scene shifted once more, and when motion resumed Luna saw the centaur pounding on the little pegasus' cage.

"Once I get this open, fly through the door away from here as fast as you can." The voice was strangely distorted, owing perhaps to Tempest's state at the time of the memory. "Keep low to the ground and look for cover wherever you can. Don't stop for anything."

"Got it! And I'll come back for you when-"

"No! Just go far away, somewhere they can't find you! Don't worry about me!"

"I'm not going to abandon you, Spy!"

"You must! The only important thing here is getting you away from Tartarus!"

Luna's hooves shifted uncertainly. "For her?!"

Motion paused. "For her. He cares about her, Princess. Really cares. Don't ask me why."

The alicorn stepped forward and peered at the centaur, noted the desperate expression on the strange, brutish face. "Tell me more about him."

"Not much to tell, really. I only found out he wasn't Tirek a few minutes before we started to dance. And even if I knew more, I'll bet anything he knows you were going to talk to me, and he'll have a whole different selection of tricks ready for you. Don't underestimate him, Princess. He's smart, and resourceful, and ruthless..."

Motion resumed. "You're not a villain, Cozy Glow!"

They watched as the rest of the scene played out, ending as Cerberus carried the larger cage away. "...and he's got nothing left to lose. That's what makes him so dangerous right now."

Luna didn't respond, lost in thought.

"Look, you don't need to walk into whatever trap he's got waiting for you. I've called Twilight in, and she'll meet me here tomorrow. I think we can get this whole mess straightened out together."

"...I appreciate the advice," the midnight mare said finally, "but... no. No, I've dealt with my fair share of beings from beyond Equestria in my time, and they all meant trouble. I need to judge this 'Spy' for myself. There are just too many unanswered questions." She looked again at the solitary figure. "For instance, how did he feed?"

Tempest frowned. "I've been wondering about that myself. I'm pretty sure he didn't get it from me or Cozy Glow. Another Sparkle question, I guess."

"Then I shall call on her as well. And do not worry on my account, Fizzlepop. There is no trickery he can hope to perform in the Dream Realm that I cannot counter."

"...you're the Princess. I just hope it goes better for you than the last creature I heard with that kind of confidence."

"Oh? And that was?"

Tempest Shadow, former lieutenant of the Storm King, looked at her with an expression of mixed shame and wry amusement. "Do you really need to ask? Good luck, Luna."

It took no time at all to find Twilight's dream; the (second) youngest alicorn craved order and stability, and her dream reflected this, always appearing in the same general area of the Dream Realm. Luna stepped into it and emerged in a vaulted marble library, filled with every book Twilight had ever read, which of course meant that it was packed full to bursting. She made her way along the stacks, keeping an eye out for the flying books that would signal her target's presence (and had no concept of personal space; she wanted to be sure she had time to duck as they went past, rather than make her lingering headache even worse.)

"Oh, hi, Princess Luna! I'm guessing you're here about the whole Tartarus thing?"

She looked down to see a familiar reptilian figure, his arms loaded down with ancient volumes. "Yes, I..." Then she paused and peered at him. It was harder to tell than normal, and the effort made her horn throb, but... "Spike? Is that you? The real you, not just a part of Twilight's dream?"

"Oh. Yeah." He looked embarrassed. "Twilight sometimes pulls me in if she's stressed or trying to figure something out."

The Princess blinked. "...I didn't know she could do that."

"I don't think she knows, either. She never remembers it when she wakes up."

Luna frowned. Not even she or her sister knew all of the limits of alicorn magic, and while she wouldn't have expected Twilight to have any dream-related powers, being able to summon her little brother/personal assistant was so very much in character for the little librarian. "I shall have a talk with her when this is all over, and teach her how to control herself a little better. You deserve to have your own dreams."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it. For now, though, let me show you to her. I'm pretty sure she'd like to talk to you."

They chatted as he led her through the library, which seemed to have grown considerably since Luna's last visit. "How much did Fizzlepop tell you about what's happened?"

"Well, she sent one of the Guards with a message, so some of it might've been lost in translation, but we heard that there was some kind of magic surge around Tartarus, and then you got attacked in Tirek's dream. And there was something about Tirek not being Tirek? I didn't really get it."

Luna nodded. That matched her initial suspicions from the previous morning; Berrytwist must have sent her messenger long before she'd discovered the existence of Spy. Either way, there was no reason to worry the little dragon with thoughts of an otherworldly assassin in control of Tirek's body. "It is a complicated situation, and I'm still gathering information myself. That's part of why I'm here, in fact."

"Well, I hope Twilight can help you."

She noticed uncertainty in his voice. "You think she might not?"

Spike paused at a door, about to push it open with one foot. There was an odd vibration about the door. "She's... having a day."

The door was opened, and cacophony emerged.

Twilights! Dozens upon dozens of identical copies of Twilight Sparkle filled the room from end to end, and the room even seemed to have been made larger to accommodate them all. Most were either poring over various tomes or were engaged in animated discussion, but a few seemed to be dashing around to no specific purpose and at least one was hugging her knees and rolling back and forth in a corner. Some were apparently experiencing panic attacks or had fainted outright, but there were two Twilights in nurse hats who were tending to them. Their combined conversations (and the occasional wail of despair) shook the walls and floor.

"...have to take into account the resonant displacement effect..."

"...can't possibly have breached the enchantments without..."

"...oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no..."

"...respect Star Swirl as much as anyone, but we have to admit..."

"...was just there at the foot of my bed, staring at me..."

"...chances of a complete quantum breakdown are..."

"...and then Celestia won't love me anymore..."

"...of course there's the HIPAA issue to consider..."

"...never even heard of a book called 'What To Do When Your Former Interdimensional Crush Knocks on Your Door'."

"Impossible!"

Luna surveyed the scene, eyes wide. She was no stranger to outlandish dreams, but this... "Spike, what is this?"

He sighed. "This, Princess Luna, is Stage Five Twilighting."

"Stage Five?! I thought it only went up to Stage Three!"

"When she's awake," he corrected her. "When she's dreaming, she has more options."

"My goodness!"

"Just be glad you missed Stage Four. She grows extra heads so she can hyperventilate more efficiently."

"I am definitely going to have a talk with her later on," Luna decided firmly. "This can't be good for her. Thank you for your help, Spike. I'll send you back to your own dream now." Her horn glowed (and she tried to hide the wince), then wisps of moonlight began to surround the dragon, who started to fade from view.

"Princess Luna!" One of the Twilights had noticed her, and she was suddenly standing in a sea of lavender.

"Hello, Twi-"

She was interrupted when one of them flew up and grabbed her face with both forehooves. "We can't let Fizzlepop sing to Tirek!"

"Good luck, Princess!" Spike called, and vanished.

She threw a mildly sour look at the spot he had previously occupied, then turned her attention to the horde before her. "Calm down, Twilight. What is this about?"

"Oh, Princess! I've discovered a massive security problem with Tartarus! If we don't act fast, Tirek could escape again!"

"It's all right," Luna said soothingly. "I just spoke to Fizzlepop and Tirek is-" Well. Not 'secure', if his mind was in another dimension. But she didn't feel this fact would help Twilight's anxiety at all. "...unlikely to find his way to Equestria anytime soon." The tone helped, and the sea of Twilights thinned out a bit as she (slightly) regained her composure. "Now. Does this have something to do with the magic surge we detected?"

"Well, kind of. I'm guessing he made some kind of escape attempt?"

The alicorn nodded. "That's what Fizzlepop told me. But I don't know where he got the magic to even try."

"Oh, that's the easy part," a different Twilight said, waving a hoof. "I figured that out hours ago."

"Do tell."

"Cozy Glow would have had some residual magic clinging to her, from the ritual she used. Tirek could have taken that and used it for... whatever he was trying to do. It probably wasn't a lot, even after a spell that big, but he apparently thought he could make it work."

Luna frowned. "Wait. I'm certain that Tartarus is enchanted against the transfer of magic. How could he possibly take it from her?"

"Nnnnot exactly." Contradicting a Princess clearly pained Twilight. "It prevents the theft of magic, not the sharing of magic. If Cozy Glow just gave him what she was carrying, Tartarus couldn't interfere."

"That seems like a rather glaring oversight."

"I guess Star Swirl just never thought that anyone would want to help Tirek. Anyway, I'm not sure how much he could have done about it. It's like the singing problem, see?"

Luna looked around at the various Twilights, hoping her total lack of understanding would be picked up. It was not. "...I'm afraid I don't. You're going to have to explain."

"Explain?!" one Twilight said, clearly delighted.

"I love explaining!" another added.

"I have a whole school for explaining things!" said another.

And just like that, Luna found herself in a School of Friendship classroom, in a seat that was decidedly too small for her. The rest of the seats were filled by Twilights, who chatted happily waiting for the lecture to begin. She always did love to hear herself talk, Luna thought uncharitably.

A Twilight appeared in the center stage of the classroom, wearing spectacles she certainly didn't need and a mortarboard she technically hadn't earned, although being the world's leading authority on multiple subjects, including the vital field of amicitology, went a long way toward justifying the affectation.

"Harmony," she began, "is the most potent magical force in Equestria. It's not that it's necessarily the most powerful magic, but in any interaction with other magics, harmony always takes precedence. It can still be overwhelmed, but it hits far above its weight class. That's how the Elements can overcome somecreature like Discord, who has effectively unlimited power."

Luna nodded, being pulled in despite being wholly familiar with (and a former target of) the subject. The Twilights around her were studiously taking notes, just for the fun of it.

"But this isn't limited to the Elements themselves, by which I mean the physical manifestation of the six Harmonic Principles. Even the otherwise normal use of magic can be given a little extra 'push' if it's aligned with one of the Principles. My brother's shields are strong enough as it is, but when he's using them to protect his home and loved ones, under the full aspect of Loyalty, he can do truly amazing things. Now, his is an extreme case, and generally this doesn't come up in the day-to-day magic usage of most ponies. But then we get to Tartarus."

Realization dawned. "Generosity."

"Bingo!" She turned to one of the blackboards and, chalk floating in her field, quickly drew a centaur and a small pegasus, then a series of vertical lines separating them. "Normally Tartarus blocks the movement of magic. But the act of sharing with somecreature in need is innately Generous, even if that creature is a villain like Tirek. If Cozy Glow genuinely wants Tirek to have the magic she carries..." She materialized a piece of red chalk and drew an arrow leading from pegasus to centaur, plowing straight through the wall between them. "...it overrides the Tartarus enchantments and allows the transfer. Since it's residual magic and not part of her own personal field, he still can't absorb it directly, but he could use it for any kind of normal spellcraft."

"I see. So how does this relate to singing? That isn't exactly the same kind of harmony that we're talking about."

"True, but it does help a bit. In any case, I'm sure you're familiar with HIPAA."

Luna's brow furrowed. "...hippogriffs?"

"No, no. HIPAA. Harmonically-Induced Performance and Auditory Activity."

It took Luna a few moments to puzzle this out. "Oh! You mean Heartso-"

Suddenly Twilight was there in front of her with a waxen grin. "Harmonically-Induced Performance and Auditory Activity."

"Er... yes." The little alicorn clearly had a death grip on her preferred terminology.

"HIPAAs are a byproduct of strong emotion interacting with Equestria's background harmonic energy," Twilight continued, returning to the blackboard. "Even when it's a painful song, it's a reflection of the pony's natural yearning for the friendship that they lack. So..." She erased everything but the centaur, then drew a pony next to him, with a jagged stump where a horn would be. "Fizzlepop would never willingly give Tirek any of her magic, no matter how generous she was feeling. But if she truly wanted to help him, to establish some kind of connection to him, and especially if their interaction became harmonically charged with multiple Elements..." She drew several musical notes, and through each one an arrow leading from mare to centaur. "...a HIPAA could set off a core essence transfer, tapping into her personal magic reserves and sending part of it to Tirek. Exactly the kind of magic he loves to feed on."

"Wouldn't she notice immediately?"

"That's the thing about Fizzlepop. Because of her broken horn, she can't casually draw from her reserves the way other unicorns can; she can only spend it through violent emissions of electricity. She can't even tell how much she's got. And she's got a lot normally, more than any other non-alicorn I've ever seen. Even if a harmonic transfer gave Tirek half of her supply, she probably wouldn't realize it until she used the rest up. And anywhere but Tartarus, her reserves would automatically replenish long before then anyway."

"I see." Then Luna chuckled. "Well, I'm sure Berrytwist would never lower herself to singing to somecreature like..."

She paused, suddenly remembering why she was there.

...like Tirek.

Oh, dear. She had seemed rather taken with Spy, hadn't she? She hadn't mentioned a Heartsong, but... why would she? They just happened. Had he swayed her to that level of compassion? That was something of a feat in and of itself.

"...Princess?"

Luna relaxed. It had been clear from Fizzlepop's dream that Spy hadn't even known what to do with Tirek's fresh supply of magic. Even if he turned out to be an enemy, he wouldn't be anywhere near as dangerous as a fully-empowered Tirek. No, the fact that he received some of her power was unlikely to be at all important, and would have no negative repercussions whatsoever. "It's nothing. I was just thinking about something. I'll keep your warning in mind, but I don't believe it should be a problem at this point. I do have another question, though."

"...is it a hypothetical question?"

"...let's go with 'yes'."

"I love those!"

"When Tirek tried to escape, could he have done so by using an interdimensional portal, like Star Swirl's mirror?"

Twilight laughed. "Interdimensional? Pff! No! You can't just make an interdimensional portal on the fly! It takes a huge amount of preparation!"

"I see." How had Tirek managed it, then? Had Star Swirl created one within Tartarus all those centuries ago? It seemed unlikely. But Tirek's spell couldn't have pushed past the prison's defenses either...

"I mean, sure, once you set one up they last pretty much indefinitely until you manually close them. And they're surprisingly easy to work with once they're established, needing only a moderate amount of magic to activate..."

Luna stared at her. "Such as the residual magic clinging to Cozy Glow?"

"That'd do it," Twilight agreed. "And it's amazing how simple it is to breach into another dimension, especially if you're not picky about which dimension you want to connect to."

"...I see." Luna firmly added 'Star Swirl the Bearded' to the growing list of ponies she was going to be giving a severe talking to in the near future.

"...but actually setting one up is super complicated!"

"What does it entail?" Luna asked cautiously.

"Oh, the really hard part is establishing a firm anchor point in your own dimension," Twilight explained. "You have to inscribe this big magic circle, and you need several objects of historical significance that the circle can use to establish an unbreakable connection to the home dimension. Nothing like that in Tartarus!"

The midnight mare just watched her, horror slowly growing.

"And of course it takes a huge amount of magic to establish one, although," she leaned in conspiratorially, "if you're feeling sneaky you can set it up so that it automatically pulls in the surrounding magic to power it. Of course, some of it will leak through the portal, but as long as you're careful it won't be too much, and nopony would even notice!"

"...and... if you're not careful?"

"Oh, that'd be bad. You'd see a world-wide siphoning of magic, especially if the exit dimension is one without much magic of its own. Equestria's an extremely high-pressure system, comparatively speaking, so it wouldn't take more than a few days to lose almost all of it. Just like when... Cozy... Glow..." It was at this point that Twilight's mind finally caught up with her own words, and all that emerged from her mouth was a strangled creaking noise.

"Cozy Glow's ritual wasn't just intended to send the magic away," Luna concluded. "It was designed to create a permanent link to the dimension the magic would be sent to."

"That must be it," Twilight agreed weakly. "The circle she used got wiped away when the Tree of Harmony pulled all the magic back, but Starlight got a good look at it, and now that I think about it, her description matches with the necessary spells pretty closely."

"But... no, that makes no sense. Even if this is true, Tirek couldn't possibly have reached from Tartarus to the School of Friendship when he escaped."

Twilight's eyes went wide. "You mean he actually did-?!"

"Hypothetically!" Luna corrected herself quickly.

It didn't work. There was an explosion of new Twilights, each speaking at once.

"The anchor point doesn't-"

"-it can be anything, not just-"

"-doesn't matter where you-"

"-that's how Star Swirl could-"

"-Sirens were banished out in-"

"-needed to be portable, so-"

"-used himself as-"

"-Cozy Glow is the anchor point!"

Luna, slowly becoming crushed by purple librarians, lit up her horn and took a deep breath. "CALM YOURSELF, TWILIGHT SPARKLE!"

The Canterlot Royal Voice, imbued with the magic of the midnight mare's control over dreams, swept through the classroom and banished the duplicate Twilights until only one remained, shivering slightly. Luna pressed a hoof to her temple until the headache faded a bit, then approached the little alicorn and lifted her head. "Yes. Tirek did use the portal to escape, but only his mind made it out. His body is still in Tartarus, and is being guarded quite effectively by Fizzlepop. It's currently occupied by a native of the other dimension, and I'm going to go speak to him now." Though she wasn't at all sure whether Spy was willing to talk with her.

"But... with Tirek on the loose in their dimension... who knows what he could do? We have to help them!"

"And we will," Luna promised. "I have no intention of letting Tirek escape justice. But we need to be prepared for whatever that may entail. And what must we do to be properly prepared?"

"Oh! I can research some ways to foricbly close a portal! And go over some ways to reverse a magical swi-"

A hoof reached out and touched her lips, silencing her. "And what must we do?"

Twilight sighed. "...rest."

"Just so. You cannot use your dreams to ignore the needs of your body. Now, in the morning I'll tell Celestia what we've discovered, and I'm sure she'll send some help. Until then, use this time to get some proper sleep, then meet Fizzlepop at Tartarus."

"You can't order me around," Twilight mumbled. "I'm a Princess too."

The hoof ruffled her mane. "I know, and it's adorable. Take it as a request from a friend, then. All right?"

"...yes, Luna."

At last, Luna stood before the dream floating at what might be considered the far end of the Dream Realm. No explosions or screams this time; what lay within appeared to be a rather cozy room, complete with a fireplace and a large upholstered chair. It was such a peaceful scene that it just had to be a trap.

She took a long, slow breath, then stepped inside.

Author's Note

I'M A NERD. :facehoof:

Your special skill is dreaming? Mine is murdering people!

This was probably, Luna reflected as she entered the dream, a bad idea. But she had to try. Twilight's revelations had led her to several unpleasant conclusions that she now had to resolve, and the first step in doing so would be to speak to Spy directly while she had the chance. But on the bright side, at least they had finally answered the biggest lingering question about Cozy Glow's plan.

Well, no. The second biggest question.

Upon arriving in the dream, she immediately whirled around to check her flank, in case Spy had been waiting in ambush. He hadn't. Glaring around herself suspiciously, she moved on.

The fire crackled merrily as she approached the rear of the chair. Now she could see a pair of thin red-clad arms emerging from either side of it, resting on the chair's edges. Another hint to the owner's species, though hardly conclusive. Next to the chair was a small table, upon which sat a broad-rimmed glass containing a liquid that was deep red in the firelight. Unfamiliar but not unpleasant music filled the air, though she couldn't determine its source.

"Spy?" Luna began, and crept closer. "Is that you?"

No response. She saw a small white cylinder of sorts held between two gloved fingers; smoke gently rose from one end, a bitter scent against the burning firewood.

"I am not here to confront you," she continued, keeping her speech slow and calm. "I just wish to talk."

Still nothing.

That is absolutely not Spy in that chair, thought Luna, who had lived quite long enough to spot such an obvious ploy. It's only a decoy. I'm going to turn around and find him standing just behind me.

She turned around. The room remained empty.

And now I'm going to turn back around and then he'll...

She turned back around. Nothing had changed.

"And here we have the Princess of the Moon," a droll voice announced, "auditioning for her second career as a spinning top. You are late, Luna. I expected you hours ago."

She cast her gaze into every corner. The voice might have seemed to come from the chair, but she felt a bit desperate to avoid another concussion. "I have other responsibilities that took priority. Where are you? Show yourself."

"I am quite comfortable where I am, thank you."

"I could just scythe this dream clean," she announced, getting annoyed. "Remove everything in it but you and I. But I choose not to do that, out of courtesy. The least you could do is show me some of the same, especially after our last meeting ended so poorly."

She could all but hear the arched eyebrow. "Courtesy? You come uninvited into my mind, my dream - again - and you speak of courtesy?"

"...a fair point," she admitted, wondering if he were somehow concealed inside the fireplace. "But while I may be uninvited, am I truly unexpected?"

There was a pause, then a chuckle. "Touché." And the figure in the chair stood up, raising the white cylinder to its mouth, inhaling, then releasing a stream of smoke into the air. Spy looked down at the cylinder with regret. "...it's just not the same without the risk of actual lung cancer," he said mournfully.

Her eyes widened. "So you are a human." Then her head tilted slightly. "Although... not quite the same as those I have seen before." The eyes were so small...

"I'm sure a discussion of comparative biology would be fascinating," he said dryly, "but I assume that isn't what you're here for. Do get on with it; I have other matters to attend to."

What other matters? "I will admit, considering last time, I started this night seeking..."

"Revenge?" he suggested.

"...redress. And to make sure that, whoever you were, you were not a threat to Equestria."

He leaned closer, his smile malicious behind his mask. "And... am I?"

She fell silent, watching him.

"You have my name, so you've spoken to Tempest..." The smile quirked with suppressed laughter. "...Fizzlepop. Which also means, I'm sure, that she's told you my vocation. What will you do, Princess Luna, with a creature like me in your grasp? Knowing that, even should you return me from whence I came, any future victim of mine is a death you could have prevented? Will you trap me in Tartarus for eternity like Tirek, for crimes you cannot prove have even occurred?"

It was a question that had occupied no small part of Luna's thoughts. "I suspect Tartarus wouldn't be enough," she noted, "given that you accomplished in a day - in a world new and unfamiliar to you, no less - something which took Tirek a thousand years." He chuckled. "But... no. You were brought here against your will, and you have harmed no Equestrian citizens since your arrival..."

"...Tempest might disagree with you there..."

"...so I have no right to imprison you further. Ideally, I would give you over to your world's authorities, but failing that I just want you gone." Then she met his gaze. "Although I have a feeling you would resist that plan... unless you could be sure of Cozy Glow's release as well." His smile slowly faded. "Fizzlepop showed me what happened earlier. Quite the noble and selfless sacrifice, for an assassin."

It was his turn to fall silent.

"Why do you care so much about a foal you just met?"

"Because someone in this wretched world should," he said, with venom. "Can you truly tell me that placing her in Tartarus was the best thing you could do for her?"

She looked away. "It was the only thing."

"How glib," he sneered. "And I'm sure, given your track record, that your search for alternatives was meticulous. Well, you no longer have to worry about that. I will see to her well-being from now on."

"Really? Because it sounded like she didn't want you anywhere near her."

He glared at her. "She is a very confused little girl, and needs the care and treatment she is never going to get in the prison you put her in!"

"That isn't your concern!"

Spy pulled an object from the depths of his suit resembling an ornately engraved pipe attached to a grip meant for hands. "I am making it my concern!" He pointed the end of the pipe at Luna's forehead.

She tilted her head slightly. "And that is?"

He hesitated. "You don't know?"

"No. Should I?"

His posture relaxed slightly. "That settles it. You definitely don't know the humans from my world. But I promise you that what I just did was extremely menacing."

She gave him a level stare. "You won't catch me out with violence this time, Spy. I'm ready for it now. And it's not necessary. I just want to talk."

He shrugged philosophically and put the object away. "Princess Luna, I would be happy to discuss anything you want, but my time is short. We can continue this conversation after you have taken me for a visit to Cozy Glow."

The alicorn was shocked. "A visit? To her dream? Absolutely not! You can speak with her in the morning "

"We are dealing with a child who believes herself a villain, to a degree that she would rather be entombed in a joyless dungeon than be considered otherwise. Every moment we waste is a moment she wallows in that broken mindset. She says I do not understand, but I want to understand. I need to understand." Spy closed his eyes. "Please."

Her gaze softened. "I think you actually mean that. But the answer is still no. Even if I could, I would not violate her dream for you, especially since she clearly doesn't want to see you right now."

"Ah. But imprisoning her within Tartarus is an acceptable level of violation?"

Luna didn't have a good response to that, so didn't bother trying to give one. "My duty to the sleeping ponies of Equestria cannot be broken."

Frustrated, he groaned and threw his hands in the air. "More talk of duty! I've dealt with that enough for one night. Could I speak to someone amenable to threats or bribes for once?!" When there was no response, he let them fall. "Fine. So be it, then. Away with you."

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said this discussion is over. Please be so kind as to see yourself out." His fingers made little flicking motions. "Shoo."

"You're... giving up? Just like that?"

"Hardly. But if you won't assist me, I'll just have to go to her myself." He stepped past her and ran his hand across the apparent wall, seeming to concentrate on something she couldn't see.

"Yourself? You can't do that!"

He ignored her, muttering under his breath.

"It isn't possible! No dreamer can leave their own dream. The Dream Realm is within my control, and mine alone!" A recent memory surfaced. "...mostly mine alone. Not even Discord at his worst was ever able to breach it! And I happen to know that humans have no significant magical abilities. You can't possibly expect me to believe you can do this!"

Writing began to appear where his fingers passed on the blank wall, glowing with a soft violet light. No, not exactly writing; were those calculations? She didn't recognize them. "Perhaps the humans you know are such weak creatures. In our world we've had our fair share of legendary wizards wielding unparalleled power. Merlin. Gandalf the Grey. David Copperfield."

Luna shifted backwards, unsettled by the conviction in the utterance of these names of power.

"And I myself have been trained in the ancient art of Duìmǎ Sāhuǎng meditation," he continued. "I have complete and utter command over my unconscious mental state. This 'Dream Realm' of your seems to be a bit tricky, I admit, but it shouldn't be much trouble to astrally project my mind and find Cozy Glow. Really, you're so late that I was about to leave anyway, but I wanted to ask for your assistance first out of..." He smiled thinly. "...courtesy."

"...you're... you're lying," said Luna, suddenly gripped by doubt. "It's a bluff. It has to be!"

His confidence seemed unshakeable. "If telling yourself that brings you comfort, then by all means continue. But do it somewhere else, if you don't mind. Run along, little Princess." He turned back toward the inscription on the wall. More calculations appeared, along with a cluster of concentric circles. He stood back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he regarded it. "No... that should be counterspin..." Some of the math changed slightly.

Every fiber of Luna's being assured her that Spy couldn't do what he claimed, that the laws of the Dream Realm were absolute, that the 'spell' he was writing was just a visual component of the dream and meant absolutely nothing, that this was just part of the trap she knew he had laid for her before she even approached and that she should just leave him to his foolishness.

...almost every fiber...

Because there was a gnawing kernel of uncertainty that she couldn't quite banish. What happened if she was wrong? What kind of havoc could he wreak in the Dream Realm? She was no Star Swirl or Twilight Sparkle; the minutiae of interdimensional magic was beyond her. As far as she knew, Spy could be telling the truth and this sort of thing was commonplace in his world. And... at least his intentions seemed pure. Perhaps... perhaps she could accede to his wishes, at least partially. She couldn't take him to Cozy Glow's dream, literally couldn't, but she could act as a mediator, or establish a line of communication somehow; that was probably within her power. And she did feel that she owed him some consideration, given the situation.

She sighed, hoping she wasn't about to regret her decision. "All right, Spy, I'm willing to make a compromise-"

"Oh, are you still here?" he asked, pressing his hand flat against the completed diagram, which flashed with power. "Be so kind as to turn the lights off as you leave, would you?" With that, he walked toward the wall...

...and vanished.

Luna wasted precious seconds gaping at empty air before coming to her senses. Oh, NO...

Quickly she charged toward the inscription, unfurled her wings, leapt...

...felt the sudden grip around her neck, realized too late that she'd been deceived...

...and then she was soaring over the field of dreams, but awkwardly, as she rarely carried a passenger on her back. "How dare you?!" she snarled. "Using such a cheap trick...!"

"Oh, I think you'll find all of my tricks are of the highest quality, very expensive," Spy crowed, an invisible presence behind her head. "Now, which one is Cozy Glow's dream, please?"

"It doesn't matter, because I'm taking you straight back to your own dream!" She started to bank.

"In that case I'll find my own way. Au revoir." The weight left her back, and she spun around in the air, trying in vain to spot him before-

There! He faded into view as he dropped, and her horn lit up, reaching out to take hold...

Too late. He struck a dream feet first and vanished into it with a flash of light. Moments later a scream of surprise and fear erupted from within.

No, no, NO! It was her own worst fears made manifest. It was the Tantabus all over again, but this time with willful malice instead of unthinking directive. Worse, it was a sentient being invading the most private and personal thing a pony could do. She could not let this continue!

Luna dove toward the dream, but already there was another flash of light to her left and another scream, this one accompanied by a sinister chuckle she remembered all too well from the previous night. She hesitated, then continued her dive and entered the first dream; she had to know what Spy was doing.

The dream appeared to be of the ever-popular 'All The Delicious Foods I Can Eat' variety, or at least it had been before Spy showed up. Now cakes and ice cream were scattered everywhere, and the dreamer herself - unharmed but badly shaken - looked up as Luna arrived. "P-Princess Luna! What was-?"

"Do not worry, my pony!" she said quickly, verging on Royal Voice. "There is nothing to be concerned about! Everything is under control!" With a moment's concentration, she restored the dream to its original state, then leapt out before any questions could be asked.

More screams greeted her as she returned to the Dream Realm, and Luna went from dream to dream, following Spy's erratic search path. They were a typical random selection of dreams, mostly basic wish-fulfilment or memories of loved ones, but a few were... of the type Luna generally avoided, due to not being her business. There were too many for her to right on her own; she would just have to hope Spy's interference didn't have lasting effects on the dreamers, and to be there for them if they did. And he was apparently using that invisibility trick to dart between dreams, so she had no way to predict where he would strike next.

After a few minutes of this, as she was panting for breath from flying around the Realm, she heard him call from somewhere among the dreams. "What say you, Princess? Shall we end this game? Just show me to Cozy Glow, and I'll stop entertaining myself."

"N... never!"

"As you wish. Perhaps it's time to make my efforts a bit more... personal."

Immediately she glanced toward the dream she always checked on before she began her nightly rounds. But... no, there was no reason to worry on that account. Her sister might lack her full powers in the Dream Realm, but she was more than canny and experienced enough to deal with Spy if he was foolish enough to cross her.

Of course... Luna had thought the same about herself...

A flash some distance away, too far to exactly determine the source. Followed by... not a scream, but a surprised exclamation. "What in tarnation?!"

"Why, howdy, pardner!"

Luna's blood ran cold and she took to the air once more, desperately seeking the dream among hundreds. She kept an ear focused on what was turning into a conversation.

"Let us see here. Orange hide, yellow mane, cowboy hat, outrageous accent... that would make you Apple...something, yes?"

"Uh, Applejack, yessir. Do you... know me from somewhere, mister?"

"We have a mutual acquaintance, yes. She's told me all about you and your friends."

Cozy Glow. Of course she would have spoken to Spy about the faculty of Twilight's school, though it was a bit surprising that he'd bothered to remember that much.

"Well, shoot. You ain't hardly the weirdest thing I've seen in a dream, so welcome to Sweet Apple Acres. Always glad for company durin' harvest season, if you're of a mind, and those doohickeys on your forelegs seem good for holdin' a bushel."

"Oh, I won't be staying long. I'm just here to... take care of something."

There! The unmistakable display of green with hanging red fruit. Luna dived into the dream and soon arrived at...

...the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Which always seemed twice as large and bountiful in Applejack's mind than in reality. Luna took to the air again, seeking a trace of the human and pony.

When she heard them again, the farmer seemed distinctly concerned. "H-Hey, now, fella. What're you doin' with that knife?"

Luna redoubled her speed.

"...no, please! Don't do it! Don't..."

The scream of anguish cut through the air, and Luna immediately angled toward it. No... he couldn't have...

When she finally found Applejack, the farmer was mercifully unharmed, but was crying uncontrollably and clinging to the fallen form of...

...an apple tree. With a knife in its trunk.

"He had so much to live for," she sobbed.

Luna consoled Applejack as best she was able in the short time she could spare, then hurried back out to the Dream Realm. As soon as she emerged, she heard a faint chime, as if from the opening of a shop door.

...oh, no...

"Welcome, darling, welcome! Please, feel free to look around, although..." Rarity's voice became uncertain. "...I'm not sure anything will fit..."

Luna began to search for dreams showing scenes of clothes making, or dress racks, or any sign of colored fabrics...

"...but not to worry! Custom jobs are no problem! I always try to, aheh, tailor my services to the needs of the buyer. And might I add, though the form it's on is unfamiliar, your own suit is very well-"

"Is this the best you've got?"

It occurred to Luna that she had been foolish to worry about anypony's physical well-being. Such attacks were close to useless in the Dream Realm. And Spy didn't need them, not when he had so many other ways to inflict damage...

"B... beg pardon?"

"I've seen better stitching in a frontline field hospital!"

"What?!"

"And what is this? A gingham saddle? With tassels?!"

"It... it's a special order!"

"And this appears to be some kind of ornamental haystack with tubes! Is it supposed to be avant-garde? More like avant-garderobe! Hon hon hon!"

"Get out! Get out!"

"You have the design aesthetic of a color-blind hamster and your fashion sense is at least three seasons out of date!"

"Out, you monster!"

...on the other hoof, entering that particular dream right at this moment might definitely lead to bodily harm, no matter how well-intentioned the visitor. Best to check on it a little later.

Luna knew she'd seen a flash of light coming from this cluster of dreams, but which one...

"...she's sleeping. How can she be sleeping in a dream?"

...ah. That one. Well, at least there was little he could do when-

"Wake up, Rainbow Dash! You have a Wonderbolts performance in ten minutes and you haven't practiced!"

The resulting scream was distinctly panicked rather than fearful, and was accompanied by frenetic flapping. As soon as Luna pinpointed the right dream, there was a loud thud as a cyan pegasus slammed against the side of it from the inside. She slid down and out of sight, her face causing a humorous squeaking noise as it pressed against surface of the dream. Then there was snoring again.

Luna moved on.

It had taken a bit of time to console Starlight Glimmer ("I murdered your kites as well!") and Luna was feeling distinctly winded from chasing after Spy, but he had to be close. She was sure of it.

"Aww. What an adorable little bunny!"

A light giggle. "Oh, thank you! He is, isn't he?"

No, please, not her...!

"He seems strong and fit! He would make a fine lapin a la cocotte."

"Oh, that sounds fancy! What does it mean? Would he be a special kind of waiter? Wearing an adorable tuxedo?"

Luna, who had a much stronger grasp of Prench, picked up speed as she searched.

Malicious humor dripped from every word. "Rabbit stew."

The dreamer gasped in horror. "No!"

Where are you, where are you...?

"And this is canard à l'orange..."

"Stop it!"

"And we'll call this one poulet au vinaigre..."

"Stay away from that chicken!"

"And, ooo, an entire pond of cuisses de grenouille!"

"Not the froggies!"

Luna finally located the dream, and after pausing briefly to catch her breath, raised a hoof to enter.

"You. Are so. Mean!"

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it? Sic your little bunny on me?"

Luna lowered her hoof and simply waited.

Ten busy seconds later, Spy emerged battered and screaming from the ball of light, and kept running straight forward until he fell into a different dream. Luna's eyes widened. "No! Not that one!" She leapt into it after him.

The dream was filled with beautiful music, accompanied by a clear and melodic voice singing a song that could best be summarized as "La."

Luna crept along the underbrush, trying desperately to stay out of sight. She hated to interrupt anypony's dream unnecessarily, but this one in particular deserved special treatment. She just hoped Spy hadn't used his invisibility trick...

No, there he was. He stood transfixed at the edge of the forest clearing, not entirely concealed but seeming too terrified to move in case the action attracted the dreamer's attention. For if she realized he was watching, his life would almost certainly be forfeit.

"Spy!" Luna hissed. "This way!" He glanced at her, but didn't - or couldn't - move. The La-ing was reaching a crescendo, and Luna knew the danger would be multiplied once actual lyrics were involved. She waited for the clearing's occupant to become particularly enthralled with her performance, then grabbed Spy with her magic and swiftly pulled him to her side. The dreamer looked up sharply as shrubbery rustled, but saw nothing and soon returned to her song.

Luna jerked her head away from the clearing, and he numbly (but silently) followed her into the woods as the Las came to an end and, wearing an amazingly ornate gossamer dress, surrounded by enough cuddly forest creatures to make Fluttershy look like an animal hater, Tempest Shadow began to sing.

"Hate is very very bad!
We should love instead!
Open your heart to the yummy light and lift your weary head!"

Spy held a hand over his mouth to stop the laughter. Laughter meant death.

"I like furry furry friends!
Bunnies stacked in piles!
Look to the dream inside and we'll have happy happy smiles!"

Luna was centuries old and considered everypony's dream to be personal and inviolate and cherished and her ribs were definitely not shaking as she led Spy away.

"We should love! We should love!
Sing your heart to the stars far above!
Come with me, and you'll see!
You're the one I'm dreaming of!"

They only just made it.

They actually didn't spend too much time laughing; the conflict between terror and absurdity had driven most of it, and once the danger was past, the urge began to fade. They sat next to each other outside Tempest's dream, catching their breath. It felt like a brief unspoken truce between them.

Finally Spy lifted a finger, paused to collect his thoughts, then pointed it at the dream. "What was that?"

"She asked me to give her a relaxing dream before I left," Luna said wearily, "and she likes to sing."

"Yes, but..."

"Fizzlepop had a very difficult childhood. She missed out on so many things growing up. If she wants to wear a pretty dress and sing to forest creatures, that's not for you or I to judge. She can be young again, if only in her dreams."

He snorted. "I hope you plan to extend the same courtesy to Cozy Glow, if she is ever released."

Luna sighed. "I know you think I am blind to her situation. Let me assure you, Spy: I am not. But it's more complicated than you assume. Let's just go back to your dream and we can discuss matters like civilized creatures and stop all this running about and settle this fairly and with mutual respect and you're gone. Of course you're gone."

There was no excuse, she told herself later. No matter how tired she'd become from pursuing Spy all night, no matter how frazzled her wits had become, no matter how much her horn still ached. When she heard Spy say "Ah, there it is," she absolutely should not have lifted her head and looked directly at the dream she'd scouted shortly after leaving Tempest's the first time, just to make sure he had not, in fact, found it.

Because her reward for doing so was to hear Spy right next to her saying "So it's that one, then?"

She whirled her head and bit, but he had already slipped away invisibly.

Luna let out a deep growl of frustration, but self-recrimination would have to wait. So. He knew where it was. But she could get there first.

She took to the air and soared to hover above Cozy Glow's dream, then lit up her horn and surrounded the dream with a magic shield. Barriers weren't her forte and her headache was already starting to intensify, but she could bear it. She had to.

Luna landed on top of the shield and glared around, daring Spy to show himself. "It's only a few hours until dawn, Spy," she announced loudly. "I can keep this up until then, and you can't stay asleep forever. It's over. Whatever you want to talk to Cozy Glow about, you'll have to do it in the waking world!"

There was no response. Had he given up? No, certainly not. Well, he could stand out there and watch her silently for the rest of the night; he was not getting through to-

From nearby, but muffled: "Wha... what are you? I've never had anything like you in my dreams!"

Cozy Glow?! She looked down at the dream under her feet. No... he couldn't have...!

"It's me, Cozy Glow. It's Spy. I've come to talk to you."

"Spy?! No! Go away! I don't want to see you!"

"I know, but please. Just hear me out..."

There was no way he could have gotten into the dream before she'd put the barrier up! It had to be yet another trick...

"No! No! I want you out of here right now! Princess Luna! Anyone! HELP!"

Luna couldn't stop herself. Her dedication to her dreamers was far too ingrained. She leapt to the ground, disabled the shield, then entered the dream.

She found herself at the doors of a giant marble palace, far grander than anything in Canterlot or Ponyville. Gold was inlaid into the walls and floors, so that everywhere it did not gleam, it shone. Flags flew from every rampart, each displaying the rook that was Cozy Glow's cutie mark. It was not Luna's first time seeing this particular dream, and it seemed to become more ostentatious with each manifestation.

She raised her voice, imbuing it to carry to the dreamer. "Cozy Glow, I am here! Open the doors so I can come help!"

There was a pause, then: "...Princess Luna? What do you want?" A roughness to the voice suggested much of her dreaming time had been spent crying.

"I'm sorry, Cozy Glow. I know you didn't want to see Spy and I tried everything I could to keep him away, but he-"

"Spy?! Spy's here? Where?"

It was at this point that Luna felt very foolish. "...another trick..." she muttered.

The filly's voice became decidedly bitter. "Oh. Oh, I get it. You've been talking to Tempest. You think you can calm me down on Spy's behalf. Well, you can tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come do it himself!"

"Cozy Glow..."

"And that's final!"

"You see?" said a voice behind her. "I'm invited."

"Spy..." she growled, her horn lighting up.

Suddenly he was inches from her face, his tone sharp and quick. "Yes, Princess Luna. You can absolutely pick me up and drag me back to my dream at any time. I know that. But... if you truly care about that little girl... then this might be our one and only chance to get through to her and find the root of her issues." He paused. "Tempest said she needed a true friend. Has there been anyone who has gotten as close to that ideal as I have? Someone resistant to her manipulations, someone without bias due to what she's done, someone genuinely having her best interests at heart?"

"I...!" She struggled for words, then hung her head. "...no."

"Well, then." He gestured at the door. "Shall we?"

She glared at him helplessly, then looked up at the castle. "I've brought Spy with me! Please, Cozy Glow, let us in!"

For long moments, the only response was a muttered "...yeah, right." But then there was a cheerful fanfare, and the huge doors swung open of their own accord.

Human and alicorn walked forward into the Palace of the Empress.

Author's Note

Tempest's Happy Healing Song (<- link) was stolen without remorse from the dead anime collaborative writing site, Improfanfic.com, under the Magical Girl Hunters story in the Hall of Fame.

(Look, we already had Emily Blunt on retainer for Villain to Villain. We might as well get our money's worth out of her.)

Congratulations! You're an Empress.

The interior of the Palace was classic dream architecture. Not of the stairways-parallel-to-the-ground, Escherian variety, but just rooms linked together because the dreamer felt that they should be there, regardless of any logical order they may or may not make. After the fifth flight of upward stairs, it was clear Cozy Glow thought she should be a long way in and a long way up.

"You could just take us directly to her, couldn't you?" Spy suggested.

"I could," Luna admitted, "but I prefer to go through dreams on their own terms where possible. It's more considerate to the dreamer."

"Ah."

She glowered at him. "And that brings up a point: this is her dream. You have no rights here. I will remove you myself if you cause her any distress."

"I will be on my very best behavior," he promised.

Luna regarded him for some time. "...yeeessss. That's what I'm worried about."

"I promise!" he said as they stopped before a large pair of doors. "You won't even know I'm there."

She snorted skeptically, then blinked as she turned those words over. If the whole point of this was for him to see her, then... "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

"I have every confidence that you'll get Cozy Glow into the right frame of mind." The doors slowly began to open, and he laid a personable hand on her shoulder. "You've got this."

Luna's eyes widened. "Spy, don't you dare-!"

And then she was alone. She took in a long, furious breath through her nostrils, released it the same way. Then the doors were open, and there was nothing to do but to move forward. (Admittedly, she could have just left, but that would leave Spy completely unattended in the filly's dream. And... it was worth the effort to speak to Cozy Glow again. At least she'd been allowed into the palace this time.)

The chamber beyond was half throne room, half auditorium. The royal seat in question was exactly as large and gaudy as Cozy Glow wanted it to be, which was quite a lot. The Empress herself lounged there, surrounded by an abundance of pillows. Also surrounding her were several figures that were extremely, annoyingly familiar.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash (or, rather, dream replicas thereof) stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the throne, acting as guards judging by the armor they wore and the pikes they held. Rarity was giving Cozy Glow a thorough hooficure, with Fluttershy acting as a footrest to help the process. Pinkie Pie was providing a selection of baked delights on demand, and Twilight Sparkle was the official pillow fluffer. And just behind the throne were Celestia and Luna themselves, waving palm tree fans to give the tiny tyrant a pleasant breeze.

Above the throne, behind and to either side, the walls turned into seats, and dozens of upon hundreds of ponies and assorted other creatures were in attendance, watching Cozy Glow adoringly. Luna recognized some - most of these were students at Twilight's school - but others she couldn't put a name to offhoof. The crowd was surprisingly quiet, perhaps so that they didn't miss anything their best friend might possibly say.

Cozy Glow's world, if her plans had come to fruition.

"Well, well. If it isn't our beloved Princess of the Moon," Cozy Glow called from the throne. "It's been a while since your last visit. I thought you'd given up on me."

Luna studiously ignored the sight of her own replica, and focused on the pegasus. "You made it abundantly clear in our previous encounter that you didn't welcome my presence. I've been respecting your wishes."

"Well, that's nice," the filly sneered. "I was worried the Princess-seeking bats were too subtle. If I'd known you were coming, I would've laid them out for you."

Patience, Luna. You are the Princess, she is the child. "They sufficed."

"Oh, good." Cozy Glow looked to Luna's left and right. "So... where's, uh... where's Spy?" she asked, entirely too casually.

"Actually..." Luna followed suit. "...I'm not sure. He was right here a moment ago, but he has this invisibility trick he uses."

The filly's slightly hopeful expression went flat. "...he didn't come. Of course he wouldn't." Then she glared at Luna. "But I didn't expect you to cover for him with such an obviously fake story."

"It's the truth!"

"Uh-huh. And is your imaginary friend in the room with us now?"

Luna peered into the corners. "...he might be..."

"Really, Princess Luna. You didn't have to lie to me to get in." She ignored Luna's protests. "And to be honest, I don't want to see his stupid jerk face right now anyway. Whatever it really looks like." She took a bite from a perfectly-baked donut with pink frosting and sprinkles 'pon it. "But I know you came in with somepony else. I heard you talking. So where are they? It's not another therapist, is it? I'm pretty tired of those. They break so easily. Oh! Is it another," and here her tone turned mocking, "candidate foster parent?"

"Not after what you did to the last ones," Luna returned darkly.

"Yeah, how are the Puddings doing these days?"

She knew from memory; it was something she felt personally responsible for. "The doctors are fairly confident that Figgy will be able to play the harmonica again someday," she said, "but Tapioca still faints at the sight of a beekeeper. Was all that really necessary?"

Cozy Glow shrugged. "Hey, I warned you all what was going to happen. Anyway, what's this all about, Luna? You've never brought anypony to my dream before. I didn't even think you could."

Neither did I. "...before I answer that," she hedged, stalling for time, "could I ask you a question?"

The filly made a face. "It's not the usual one, is it? 'Why, Cozy Glow, why did you do it?' So boring."

"No, it's something else." May as well ask the third biggest lingering question...

"Sure, go ahead, then."

She looked around at the attentive audience, at the dream replicas around the throne. "...how did you think this was all going to work?"

Cozy Glow looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, even assuming your plan had worked, that you had drained all the magic from Equestria and nopony knew you had done it... what then? Without Celestia and I to move Sun and Moon, the world would be locked in eternal twilight - so to speak - and the magic of harmony would be gone as well, so friendship would no longer be as potent as it once was. So... what happens then? How were you planning to become the Empress of Friendship?"

The filly blinked. "What, really? That's your question?" She laughed. "But it's so obvious!"

"It... it is?"

Cozy Glow shifted position, and dream-Twilight was immediately there to readjust her cushions. "That's the problem with you alicorns. You have no vision. With magic out of the picture, taking over would have been the easiest thing in the world! You see-"

There was a sound of unsteady hoofsteps approaching down the hall. "I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late!"

They both turned to see an earth pony mare with yellow fur and a white mane with orange streaks stumble through the doorway. She staggered forward and leaned a foreleg against Applejack as she gasped for breath. "I'm sorry... it took so long... Princess... but that was... so many stairs."

Luna was glad she was turned away from Cozy Glow, because she couldn't stop her mouth from gaping open. Was the Dream Realm just... much less secure than she had previously thought?

For her part, Cozy Glow seemed unimpressed. "So I guess here's your straggler. Who's this, Luna?"

"W-well..."

"Le... Lem..." The mare held up a hoof as she took a few deep breaths. "Lemon... Drizzle." She swallowed and regained her footing. "Foal Protective Services. I'm your new case worker. Pleased to meet you, Cozy Glow."

"Case worker?" Luna was glad Cozy Glow said it so she didn't have to.

"Yes. There's been a certain amount of concern at the agency whether your incarceration adheres to health and well-being regulations. I'm here to see how you're doing."

The filly looked astonished. "Health and well-being? And for this you're coming into my dream?" She looked at Luna, who had never heard of any such agency. "While all this stuff with Spy and Tirek is going on?"

"I insisted," Lemon Drizzle said. "We've been trying to arrange this meeting for moons, but the Princesses have been stalling, supposedly due to the high-security nature of Tartarus. This way seemed like a sensible work-around." She glowered at Luna. "Even so, they've been dodging my requests for an interview like a spinning top."

And then Luna got it. This was Spy! But... how? While it was true that dreamers had a lot of control over their dream avatars, to change one's identity so completely and thoroughly... only the strongest of changelings and the occasional actress had ever managed that, creatures who had spent years learning how to wear somepony else's face. She was starting to understand how dangerous Spy truly was.

Now Luna could even recognize the pony Spy was pretending to be; it was the cake-and-ice-cream enthusiast from the first dream he had fallen into. He could have only been in there for a few seconds, but he was able to copy the mare precisely. Had he been planning this, even back then?

"Hah! Sounds like them. There's nothing they hate more than having to admit they made a mistake." Cozy Glow watched the newcomer suspiciously for a moment. "So... what exactly are you wanting to do here? You're not going to try to make me be a good little pony, are you?"

Once 'Lemon Drizzle' had seen the recognition in Luna's eyes, she turned back to the filly. "No, that's not why I'm here. I'd just like to ask you a few questions about your current situation, and if, after a review, we find it lacking, we can take steps to provide what the palace has not."

"Hold up, hold up." Cozy Glow leaned forward. "There were some words there that I think I liked. Are you saying that if I talk to you, I might get more stuff and it'd make the Princesses look bad?"

"Well, that isn't exactly how I would put it, but... yes."

"In that case, sure!" She skooched back in her throne and dismissed the false Rarity with a wave. "Pull up a pony and have a seat."

Her guest eyed Fluttershy a trifle nervously. "I'll... stand."

"Suit yourself."

Lemon Drizzle glanced at Luna. "Normally we conduct these interviews in private, so that there's no threat of reprisal for anything you say. But the Princess has made it clear-"

"Oh, she can stay," Cozy Glow said loftily. "I'm not the slightest bit afraid of her or her sister. Am I, Luna?"

The alicorn looked away as a fresh trickle of shame etched its way across her soul. Lemon watched her curiously for a moment. "...very well. Let's get started. How do you feel about your current circumstances?"

"I dunno. Normal, I guess. They feel... appropriate?"

It was uncanny, Luna thought as they began to talk. Spy had taken this average pony (whose cutie mark suggested a career in the stained glass business, or perhaps a researcher in the field of kaleidoscopology) and, with word and bearing alone, turned her into the very model of a dedicated bureaucrat, the kind that respected the Princesses, but who swore loyalty only to The System. Celestia was better than she with these creatures, but that was only to be expected; The System had grown up around her sister, she was all but part of it. The paper pushers mainly got on Luna's nerves, even as she understood their value.

"Do you feel at all threatened by those around you? Are you ever afraid of making them angry?"

"Pfft! Hardly. There's only Tirek and Tempest. He's harmless, and she's not so bad once you get to know her."

But look how quickly he'd established a rapport with the filly, who definitely seemed more at ease than she had been when Luna had entered. She assumed that this was what he'd meant by a 'right state of mind'; simply by being there, Luna became a target for the filly's ire, and then he was able to swoop in and form a kind of united front against her.

"Do you think you've been getting enough to eat?"

"I mean... it's Tartarus, so..."

"Yes, we're currently discussing whether enchantments that replace the need to eat are acceptable under regulations. But what do you think?"

"...I just had my first hayburger in almost a year. It was so good to eat something again. And then I threw it up."

And now he was just asking her this long list of questions that... uh...

"Do you feel like you've had enough time to yourself, without anypony invading your privacy?"

"...there isn't any privacy. It's always just me and Tirek, right next to each other. Sometimes he just ignores me, but I don't think that really counts."

...questions that sounded very appropriate to ask a foal in Cozy Glow's situation, now that she thought about it.

"...no. No books. No music. Nothing to pass the time, except talking to Tirek. Until he tells me to shut up."

...had she ever thought about it? Had anypony? Who should think about it, if not the Princesses?

"Well, that should take care of most of it," Lemon Drizzle said while Luna was examining new and unfamiliar ideas.

Cozy Glow was slow to respond, lost in her own thoughts. "Do you think it'll help?"

"Based on what you've told me, I suspect there should be some improvements, one way or another," the case worker replied, glancing at Luna. "I'm curious, though; you two mentioned this Spy character. Who are they? A new prisoner in Tartarus?"

The filly adopted a thin frown. "Spy doesn't matter. He's nobody."

"...I see." Her eyes closed briefly. "Then there's just a few last details I'd like to clear up. Our records seem a bit incomplete."

This time her gaze at Luna was rather more meaningful, and the alicorn roused herself enough to realize something was expected of her. "Hm? Oh. Ah... I've been... meaning to have that file sent over."

"See that you do, please," Lemon said primly.

"What kind of details?" asked Cozy Glow, rather dully.

"Well, for starters, your parents. I could find no details about them at all."

The filly's head snapped up, blunt edges turned suddenly sharp. "That's none of your business!"

Lemon's eyebrows raised. "My business is exactly what it is. I'm assuming they're somehow absent, or you would have been released into their care."

Cozy Glow's tight-lipped expression told the world that no information would be coming from that route. "I'm afraid we don't know," Luna explained. "We've done everything we can to find them, but we don't even know their names."

"Really? There are no birth records, anything of the sort?"

"Normally, there would be. We're fairly certain she previously lived in Cloudsdale, because the pony in charge of the records reported meeting 'an awfully nice young filly who wanted to look up some records and accidentally burned down the filing cabinet.'" In the background, Cozy Glow snickered.

"...I see. Then she doesn't have a guardian at all? Who was her advocate?"

The filly's brow furrowed. "Advocate?"

"A representative," Lemon clarified. "Somepony who represented you at the trial, and negotiated with the Princesses on your behalf before they sentenced you to Tartarus."

Cozy Glow just stared at her for a long time, then laughed. "Trial? Oh, wow... they really didn't tell you anything, did they?"

Lemon turned a sharp glare toward Luna. "No trial? They just summarily sent you-"

If anything, the laughter became louder. "No, no! You don't get it!" She looked at Luna as well. "Show her."

"...I..."

"Show her!" the filly snapped, suddenly angry. "I know you remember it!"

Head hung low, unable to meet Lemon's gaze, the alicorn's horn emitted a soft blue light. The glow expanded to encompass all three (apparent) ponies...

And then they were floating in midair in a wide, two-tiered room. The upper level mostly consisted of a walkway around the lower level, with a guardrail to prevent falls. There were doors all along the walkway, and a set of tables and attached kitchen down below. At first glance, the setup suggested 'prison'... but a second glance would suggest something similar, but softer.

Three ponies moved along the walkway. One was Luna, and next to her walked a larger alabaster alicorn; clearly Celestia, as if anypony in the dream weren't already aware. The third was an elderly earth pony, russet and grey, who looked as though she had the word 'MATRON' carved on her very soul. "Thank you both for coming so quickly, Princesses. I'm at my wit's end."

"Well, of course this is a matter of great interest to us as well, Miss Ironflank" Celestia assured her. "Has it truly been as bad as you say?"

Ironflank sighed. "Worse. Turnover has been higher than I've ever seen, she's unionized the children in the south wing, and as for what happened to the Puddings...!"

"They're getting the very best care," Luna promised.

"These are grim days for the Happy Hoofsteps Orphanage," the matron continued solemnly. "That little filly is ridiculously good at getting her way. So far she's managed to talk her way to freedom two dozen times, and the next time it happens I'm almost tempted to let her go rather than fire and replace another caretaker. You have to do something."

"We understand, but we've run out of options," Celestia said. "We haven't found a single pony ready to claim they're related, every foster home has sent her back within days - sometimes hours - and there isn't a boarding school in Equestria that wants to be the site of her next attempt to drain the world's magic."

"Have her demands changed at all?" asked Luna.

"The exact same," Ironflank informed her wearily, "every-"

"Celestia?! Is that you? I'd recognize that woogly hair anywhere!"

The three ponies looked down at the cafeteria below. Two burly caretakers stood there, each holding one end of a light chain. One looked bone tired and haggard, like ten miles of bad road. The other's head was entirely stuck within a large cake, possibly rum raisin flavored.

Between them, with the chains attached to a collar around her neck, was Cozy Glow.

"I can keep this game up forever, Celestia! This is all on your head! Every day you refuse to give me what I want, you're making the ponies around me suffer!"

She stomped her hoof, and the caretakers flinched.

"Send me to Tartarus! That's where I'm supposed to be! If you don't, I'm going to make sure every pony in Equestria pays for it!"

They turned away without responding, ignored her shouted challenges. "...as you can see," Ironflank concluded.

"Well!" Luna snorted. "We're certainly not going to give her what she wants!"

"...perhaps we should."

The midnight mare's head whipped around. "Sister!"

"It needn't be for long," Celestia said soothingly. "Just until she realizes how terrible it is and asks to be let out. Then maybe she'll let us find her a family."

"Absolutely not!" Luna snapped. "Tartarus is no place for a foal!"

"Do we have any other options?" her sister shot back. "We both know what she's capable of. She's only likely to ramp up her efforts until we give in. Next time somepony might get seriously hurt." Celestia's head drooped. "And she's right. The suffering she's causing is partly our fault. I don't know how one of our ponies has become so... damaged, but it's our responsibility."

Luna opened her mouth to respond, then glanced at Ironflank, looking embarrassed and worried nearby. It didn't do for the Princesses to argue in public, lest they remind everypony of the last several centuries. "We'll discuss this later," she declared. "But there has to be another way."

"If you think of one," Celestia replied, "I'd love to hear it..."

The glow faded, and the three ponies stood in Cozy Glow's throne room once more. "We never found one," Luna said, her voice heavy. "We thought of exile, but there was no way to guarantee that she wouldn't return... except perhaps one," she added, thinking of a certain mirror, "and sending her across that border would have just given our problems to the realm beyond. A practice that, in the past, we have relied upon far too often. So... in our weakness, we gave her to Tartarus. It was only supposed to be a short visit, but then moons passed and she showed no interest in leaving. We asked Fizzlepop to check on her occasionally and let us know if she wanted out... but she never did."

"And why should I?" Cozy Glow said triumphantly. "This is where I belong. Do you get it now, Lemon? I sentenced myself. I'm here in Tartarus because I chose to be in Tartarus."

Lemon Drizzle's mouth had fallen open in shock. "...why?"

The filly turned her nose up. "That's still none of your business."

"Still?" Lemon stepped closer, and Cozy Glow, realizing she'd let something slip, slapped her hooves over her mouth. "So it has something to do with your parents, then. Did they do something to you? Or-"

"This interview is over!" Suddenly the pegasus sported a unicorn horn. "Don't worry about having to walk down; I'll show you out." She lifted the mare in a magic field, and an open window appeared in a nearby wall.

"Cozy Glow, wait! Let me help you!"

"I don't need your help! I don't need anypony's help!"

And with that, Lemon Drizzle was launched into the Great Beyond.

"Spy!" Luna rushed to the window and tried to spot where he'd landed. Normally falling in a dream was harmless, but she didn't know if that held true for whatever dreamwalking technique Spy was using.

"Oh, c'mon, it's just a dream. She'll be-" Cozy Glow stopped. "Wait. Spy? But... not really Spy... right?"

Luna didn't respond, still casting about desperately.

"...that was really Spy?!"

Finally, a splash of red among the white and gold caught her eye. Fortunately not a literal splash, but...

"There he-" Her eyes widened as she took in the scene, and she became shocked, then enraged.

"You found him? Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's fine," Luna growled. "But he won't be by the time I get done with him." She vanished in a burst of magic, then reappeared hovering over the form of Spy. His illusion had fallen at the same time he had.

Contrary to popular belief, if you died in a dream you did not die in real life. You did, however, tend to stop dreaming, there being nothing left to dream with when you're dead and there wouldn't be much point.

"Another trick!" she shouted. "Another! From the very beginning! How dare you?!"

Spy didn't respond, being a little preoccupied at the moment. For the Palace had a great many flagpoles, and Cozy Glow's throw had sent him in a perfect trajectory to meet one.

There was no blood and, apparently, no pain. Spy was simply impaled through the chest, which he seemed to regard only as an inconvenience, judging from his expression.

He should have been dead. He should have been gone. The fact that he wasn't gave Luna a very good (if incomplete) idea of what was going on. "You are so... clever," she spat.

Spy made a weak effort to pull himself up along the pole, but soon gave up. "Well, someone around here should be."

She glared at him. "I'll deal with you later," she announced, and with a bolt of magic blasted him into a fine vapor.

A soft sob drifted down from above, and she flew up and back in through the window. The throne room was empty; no audience, no admirers, nopony at all. The sobbing came from somewhere beneath the pile of cushions on the throne, and Luna approached it slowly. "...Cozy Glow?"

There was a sniffle. Luna regarded the pile for a moment, then lowered herself to the ground, legs beneath her. "I'm here if you want to talk," she said, then waited.

She was soon rewarded; the filly never missed a chance to make her thoughts known. "I c-can't believe it," she managed through her tears. "He came all this way, and he wouldn't even t-talk to me without pretending to be somepony else! He's such a jerk!"

"I-"

"And I don't want to hear anything about how he must have had a good reason or something," Cozy Glow snapped.

"Actually, I was going to say I completely agree with you," Luna replied. "That creature has done nothing but humiliate me since he got here."

This elicited a bitter laugh, but only a short one. "I thought I finally found somecreature who actually understood me, but he turned out to be just like all the others. I hate him! I hate him so much!"

Her expression softened, and Luna moved cushions away from the pile until the filly's head was revealed. "I don't think you mean that." Then she reached out with a wingtip and lifted Cozy Glow's chin. "And I know for certain that he cares about you very much. If he didn't, he wouldn't have torn apart the Dream Realm to get here."

The filly's eyes widened. "H-he did that?"

"Oh, yes. You know me, Cozy Glow. I would never have brought him into your dream willingly."

"That's... kind of impressive." Then she shook her head roughly. "Still..."

Luna decided to change tactics. "Cozy Glow... you want him to understand you, but have you ever told him about yourself?" She felt she knew the answer; for a pony that loved to talk, the filly was astoundingly sparing with details about her own life.

"Well, no... b-but he always seems like he knows stuff anyway! He saw right through me from the very beginning! I just thought..."

"...that you could get him to be your friend without revealing your secrets?" The filly hesistated, then nodded. "Cozy Glow. If you want this to work, you have to trust him. Trust is one of the most important parts of any friendship."

She sniffled again. "I don't remember that element from Professor Twilight's school."

Luna chuckled. "That's because it's Loyalty, and Honesty, and Kindness and Generosity and even Laughter all rolled up in one."

"Ugh. So cheesy." Then Cozy Glow laughed, a genuine one this time. "I think Spy would get all huffy if I told him I trusted him, though."

"He seems the type," Luna agreed. "But as untrustworthy as he wants to be... I think he's earned yours. Don't you?" There was no response, and the alicorn stood up. "Well, think about it. I'm going to go have a few words with him before the night is over."

"Okay. And... Princess Luna? Thank you."

"Of course, Cozy Glow. I will always be here for you."

And then she left, to the one place she was sure Spy would be. Because there can be no dream without a dreamer.

Luna did not so much enter the dream as burst into it. She immediately turned to face the 'magic inscription' on the wall, and blasted it and the wall into atoms. Not that it had ever served any purpose but to deceive her, but it made her feel better, if only slightly.

"Spy! Show yourself!" There was no response, nor had she expected one. She wasted no time waiting; her horn glowed briefly, then a pulse of magical energy expanded from it, and every part of the dream it touched was vaporized. The trophies and weapons on the walls vanished, the music ended abruptly, the fireplace winked out. And just beyond the fireplace, in the center of the expanding white void, was...

Luna's eyes narrowed. "Really, now."

"Golly!" Cozy Glow said endearingly. "You wouldn't hurt a poor innocent filly, would you?"

A searing beam of blue light lanced out from her horn, stripping the illusion away in a moment.

"You seem awfully tense there, Princess," said Tempest Shadow with a smirk. "Don't get your mane all in a twist. Your hairdresser's gonna have a fit."

Another beam, and this time there was another human, but an unfamiliar one. He wore a yellow hardhat and goggles, but the rest of the attire was of a definite red theme. "Everyone back to the castle, pardner."

Another beam, and the new human was huge and bald. "I am amused by entire itsy bitsy teeny Princess!"

Another beam. "Words cannot express how much I hate Equestria right now!"

Another beam, this one sustained. It cut through the illusions one by one until Spy was left sprawled on the floor, trying to protect himself from the force of her magic. "All right! All right! You've made your point!" She ended the beam, and he sat up painfully. "...so much for courtesy."

"Fizzlepop told me you were dangerous," she said. "I should have listened."

"Actually, I'd say you listened all too well."

Luna didn't understand this, so simply ignored it. "How did you do it?" she demanded. "I might have believed it if you really had managed to dreamwalk on your own, but to create a projection and send that out into the Dream Realm? Impossible! It would take an alicorn's power to manage that!"

He smiled weakly up at her. "And for that," he said, "you have my gratitude."

She hesitated, unsure what to make of his words... then her eyes went wide as suspicion and realization raced through her. "...no."

"Allow me to correct what you just said. It isn't that you might have believed it. You did believe it. And if the Princess of Dreams believes that a mere figment can travel between minds, then who is the Dream Realm to argue?" He gave her a small bow. "All it took was to plant the idea in your head... and let it blossom."

She stared at him for a long moment... then suddenly all the anger and embarrassment drained away, and she couldn't help but laugh. "You... are... ridiculous, Spy."

"I prefer 'outrageous.'"

"We have to get you back to your own world. I'm terrified of what you'd do to Equestria if left unattended." She knelt down next to him and watched him for a while. "...what was all that just now? Despite what she said, I'm sure Cozy Glow would have talked to you without that illusion."

"Perhaps, but she wouldn't have been quite so forthcoming. A neutral but sympathetic party was more likely to get to the root of the problem." Then he scowled. "But we saw how well that worked. Now I know how she came to Tartarus, but not why. And I may not get another chance."

"Well, we'll see how that goes." He looked at her sharply, but she just smiled, taking simple pleasure in keeping secrets from him for once. "Spy... why do you care so much about her? The real reason this time. I suspect that an assassin like you usually has little compassion for those that cross your path."

He sighed and stared straight ahead for a moment. "...this is confidential?"

"Of course."

Even so, it took him a long time to speak. "...I have a son. Most probably my son," he amended. "But I was never there for him, didn't even know about him until... we met as adults. We work together. He doesn't know, or is in such deep denial that he'll never admit it. And... we're nothing alike."

Luna nodded in understanding. "And so the thought becomes 'what if I had been there?'"

"Well, it's natural, isn't it? Sometimes I see glimpses of what he could have become, but more often I just see wasted potential. Which probably makes me a terrible father. And I have to wonder... what kind of parent could I have been, if I'd had the chance?"

"And then comes Cozy Glow."

He smiled. "Oh, she's a marvel. At first I just meant to use her, but she's smart and determined and cunning, and I can see a bit of my younger self in her. I tried to fight it, but the more time I spent with her, the more I saw her as someone to be protected. Someone I could be there for, the way I hadn't been before." He frowned again. "Someone I thought I could at least spare from perpetual confinement. But it turns out that was her goal."

"Except she was willing to escape with you, was she not?"

Spy hesitated. "...yes. She was."

"Something to think about, then." Then she looked down. "Those questions you were asking her... they weren't just for her benefit, were they?"

"...no. My world, as you may guess, is brutish and violent compared to this one, but we still have laws against the way you treat prisoners. They aren't always followed, but they exist. I just... felt as though you could benefit from seeing the situation through fresh eyes."

"I know, but Cozy Glow-"

"Not just her."

Luna blinked. "Tirek?! You think we should treat a creature that twice tried to conquer Equestria with kindness?"

He raised his eyebrows. "That is one of your Elements, is it not? Now, personally, I would have put a bullet in his brain the first time around and have done with it, but if you make someone your prisoner, you assume responsibility for their well-being. Tartarus may provide for physical needs, but I would think someone such as yourself could imagine the privations of a thousand years of solitude."

She grimaced. "Cozy Glow has told you too much, I think. But... it's a fair observation, and one which I will consider." Luna took a long breath. "Which brings us to one last point. Whatever Cozy Glow might think, Celestia and I are responsible for her presence in Tartarus. Which... also means we're responsible for your presence as well."

His brow furrowed and he sat up straighter. "Excuse me?"

She stood up and paced a bit, putting words together in her head. "One thing we've never fully understood about Cozy Glow's plan was why Tirek gave her that particular ritual. Why would a creature that absorbs magic help remove all magic from Equestria?"

Spy nodded. "I noticed that inconsistency when she explained it to me. I take it you've figured it out?"

"I believe so. We've discovered that part of the ritual created an interdimensional portal between your world and ours... and set Cozy Glow as the anchor point to our world."

"...meaning?"

"Meaning the magic was not to be lost, but stored. Meaning Tirek would have been able to reopen the portal with the residual magic clinging to Cozy Glow, and then siphon it all back to himself, using her as a conduit. He can only take magic from living creatures, you see, and with all of it flowing through her, he'd be able to absorb it no matter where it originally came from."

His eyes widened. "At which point, with no magic to keep him imprisoned..."

"Instead of Cozy Glow's reign of 'friendship', we'd have Tirek holding ultimate power over every creature in the world."

Spy rubbed his chin. "That is... rather more clever than I would have given him credit for. But of course, Cozy Glow's plan failed, which led to her incarceration, which..." He looked at her suddenly.

She nodded. "...which gave Tirek the opportunity to escape to your world... at least partially. And thereby brought you here." Luna bent one knee to him, bowed her head. "It was our poor decision that caused this. I promise that we'll do what we can to make it right."

Spy stood up, looking a bit awkward. "Yes, well... all I really want is to go home. And for Cozy Glow to be free."

Luna smiled. "Of course, as Princess I cannot advise or assist you on the escape of a known criminal. But... if anyone can manage it, I'm sure you can. You're her best chance. Good night, Spy."

There was an hour left until dawn, and Luna spent the next few minutes of it slowly crossing the Dream Realm, processing the events of the evening. Of the many things she was chiding herself over, the one she kept coming back to was Spy's 'escape' from his own dream. How foolish she had been, to be so gullible as to lend power to his efforts! After all this time, she should have known better. Alternate dimension or not, there was no creature that could escape into the Dream Realm...

"HIIIII, PRINCESS LUNAAAAAAAA!"

...with the extremely rare exception.

"Hello, Pinkie Pie." She turned to see the Ponyville party pony half-out of her own dream, forelegs propped up on the glowing surface for support.

"Gosh, you look beat. Are you getting enough sleep? Or does going into ponies' dreams count as sleeping on the job? Maybe you should visit Rainbow Dash's dream and take a nap with her! I can hear the snoring from here! It's like ZZZXXXXXNNNNNNAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"

Luna smiled weakly. "I'm fine, thank you, Pinkie. It's just been a difficult evening."

Pinkie Pie gasped as an idea struck her. "You should come join the tea party I'm having! It'll wash alllll the stress away!"

"I appreciate the offer," she replied honestly, "but I need to go check on some ponies, and then... I have some thinking to do. Enjoy your party."

"Okay! G'night!" She dropped back into her dream, and Luna shook her head in bemusement before walking away.

Within, Pinkie returned to her party. "She had other things to do. Too bad. I bet she would've really liked meeting you!"

Her guest nodded and sipped more tea.

"Now, where were we...? Oh, that's right! You were telling me about how your friend was gone and there's a new friend in his place but you don't really like that new friend but you're supposed to get along until your other friend gets back, right?"

A nod, and despite the lack of visible facial features, a mournful expression.

"Well, that's super easy! You should just get them a present!"

'A present?' her guest didn't exactly say, but that was the clear intention behind the grunts.

"Sure! A present is a great way to break the ice and say 'no hard feelings!' Can you think of anything they might like?"

Her guest considered the question deeply, then brightened and held out a hand, palm up. A tiny flame suddenly danced there.

Pinkie examined the flame for a moment. "Well... fire's not a bad gift, but it's more of a 'let's go burn this bridge that neither of us like' kind of gift. You'll probably want to give him something that's good for any occasion."

More pondering, then another possibility occurred, which they explained with a series of excited hoots.

The pony clapped her hooves. "Ooo, that's a great idea! I'm sure he'll love it!" She held out the teapot. "Would you like some more?"

Her guest nodded and held out their cup with one rubber-clad hand.

The sound of movement drove Spy awake. There was someone coming up the stairs to his all too empty plateau, someone big.

He lifted his head in time to see Cerberus loping carefully onto the plateau, a small cage carried in his center mouth. He laid it down very gently some distance away from Spy, then lowered himself to the ground and watched them.

Spy and Cozy Glow sat staring at each other for several minutes, the latter clearly working up the confidence to speak. He gave her that time. He'd give her all the time she needed.

"Did..." she began finally, "...did I ever tell you about cutie marks?"

He nodded. "They're... magical representations of your personal talent. You get them as a kind of rite of passage in your youth."

"But I didn't tell you how I got mine." She looked away. "I've never told anypony."

He simply watched her, forcing any speculation down. He'd hear her out, without judgement. "I'm listening."

Slowly, painfully, she began to speak.

I love a good backstabbing. (Part One)

Once upon a time, in the city of Cloudsdale, there were two pegasi. She was a sculptress of vapor and wind, specializing in the kind of artwork that would sell for a great deal of money even though they might disappear in a strong breeze. He was an investment broker (or at least called himself one), which meant he was very good at spending other ponies' bits. And they loved themselves very much.

They got married, and those who knew them well - which was not many - couldn't understand exactly why. Both were as self-centered as a gyroscope, and the thought of one of them noticing the other long enough to propose seemed highly unlikely. But it had happened, and their union was even more unbelievably blessed with a child, a lovely filly with pink fur and a platinum mane. Those few that knew of her existence considered her an unusually quiet and polite child for her age, and with one exception never had cause or inclination to wonder why.

They lived in a manor on the outskirts of Cloudsdale, nestled in a cluster of other grand homes. The term 'gated community' means little when dealing with pegasi, but there were regular patrols of very serious ponies in sunglasses so that the commoners couldn't wander too close and get the money all grubby.

In fact, it often seemed to the filly that they didn't live in the manor, but merely occupied it. Oh, they slept there (sparingly; the time spent sleeping was time not spent making money) and ate their meals there (simple, inexpensive fare, usually oatmeal with a homeopathic amount of honey and what might be called a hint of fruit if it weren't better described as a vague suggestion), but there were over two dozen rooms and only a select few were actually used. Nevertheless, it was a stately and impressive edifice, and those rooms which other ponies might be expected to see were lavishly appointed. The rest, including her parent's bedrooms (a definite plural there) and her own room in the attic, weren't quite bare, but decidedly landed on the 'stark' side of the spectrum.

Ponies didn't go in much for hunting, and so didn't know what a duck blind was. But if they knew nothing else, her parents knew the value of appearances.

The Day It All Ended started in a completely ordinary way, which the filly later considered to be deeply unfair. There should have been some indication of how things would turn out: dark clouds, a flock of crows, something. But no, the weather service had scheduled a pleasant sunny day, and corvids rarely ascended as high as Cloudsdale. Some days just didn't understand how narrative foreshadowing worked.

She woke with the sun's rays, a longstanding parental requirement that had turned into habit. No sleeping in, in this household; her parents begrudged the evil that is Sleep every minute it stole from them, time that could be more practically put to use. They would have awoken at least an hour earlier, prepared to make gainful use of every second of daylight Celestia brought them, and more. But they at least understood that foals needed their rest, as distasteful as that may seem.

Flapping her tiny wings, the filly lifted herself out of bed and drew back the curtains on her window. The view beyond was expansive, made even more so by the fact that her room was on the third floor of the grand manor house, which itself was positioned on a swell in the cloud it shared with its neighbors. The entire city of Cloudsdale was laid out before her, though most of it was some distance away.

Closer to home, as it were, lay a park filled with lush greenery, which in and of itself was a sign of prestige. In a city made of clouds, an area with soil enough to support plant life required a great deal of planning, maintenance, and expense (including the employment of an earth pony possessed of exceptional skill and a complete lack of acrophobia). At the far end of the park there was a library, though the term wasn't entirely accurate in its normal usage. This was no building custom made for the purpose, but rather the home of the late Doctor Brightquill Fetlock, who'd had two passions in life: medicine, and the collection of stories and novels from across the world. His will had decreed that his home remain open to any who might choose to browse his vast trove of books, and while his neighbors greatly disapproved of such a plebeian gesture, his bequest paid for a great majority of the park's upkeep, so they took what comfort they could in the fact that very few outside their community knew about it. For her part, the filly was a voracious reader and spent what time she could there, though this wasn't much and her free time was too sporadic to check any books out, else risk late fees. And wasting money was a cardinal sin.

She sleepily went to her vanity to prepare for the day. Something was off about her reflection, but she didn't remember what it was until she opened a drawer and noticed the thing that wasn't there. Her hoof lifted to her mane. ...oh. Right.

But never mind that. There was so much to do and little time to do it. It was a Party Day, after all.

Parties were a regular occurrence at the manor, or at least events that her parents called parties. They didn't quite match the ones she'd read about. All of the guests were very serious types, and while not old were certainly not young or at all inclined toward frivolity; she'd never seen any singing or dancing or balloons, and the cakes were of the type which had had cuisine committed against them. A sliver of chocolate sponge with a mere hint of frosting and an artistic drizzle of coconut extract did not, to her, seem very festive. She often wondered if she'd ever get to go to one of the other kind.

The parties weren't for her benefit, of course. They were to display her mother's most recent line of cloud sculptures to prospective buyers, or to promote her father's latest investment opportunity. Often both at once, whenever the situation allowed, as a cost-saving measure. Tonight would be once such party, which meant that both the display room and the study would need to be thoroughly tidied and prepared with every surface cleaned and polished, as well as the foyer, dining room, and grand hall, and generally anywhere that guests were likely to wander. A professional maid service would take care of this in no time at all, but those were unnecessarily expensive.

There was a cost-saving measure in place for that, too.

Two hours later, her eyes stinging from polish fumes and her hooves wrinkled and aching from scrubbing, the filly prepared the day's breakfast. It was oatmeal again; she longed for more variety, but her parents had little interest in creature comforts (with two particular exceptions, one per parent), and as long as it filled the belly, what difference did it make? Food was expensive, especially these days with all the troubles; they all had to make sacrifices.

Her first delivery would be to her father. And it would be a delivery, not a visit, or at least not an extended one; she didn't know if the family had ever eaten a meal together. Surely somepony had fed her before she was old enough to hold a spoon, but she had no memory of it.

She loaded the oatmeal onto a wheeled cart, added a freshly brewed cup of particular exception, and pushed the whole thing toward her father's personal office. Carrying a tray would be faster, but her flight muscles had only developed the previous year (not to mention her wings were definitely on the small side), and her carrying capacity was as yet limited.

As she traveled down the gleaming hallway - the building materials were of course not stone, but clouds carefully shaped and treated to make them solid and give them a sheen similar to marble - she passed a few of the smaller examples of her mother's craft, one of the few additions she had reluctantly made to her husband's side of the manor. Each sat on a pedestal in its own small alcove, and beneath each one was a plaque showing the title of the piece, such as "Generosity" or "Opportunity" or "Trust".

There was this about her mother's art: though each was a twisting and mostly formless mass of cloudstuff, once somepony saw the plaque, they immediately realized that the sculpture was a perfect representation of that subject. The vague, interlocking circles of Opportunity became a series of coins spilling into an upturned hoof, that could be gained or lost based on the owner's choices. Trust's depiction of two mismatched beings were interpreted as a wise leader giving advice to a seeker of fortune and knowledge. It wasn't magic, as far as she could tell, and the effect faded after a little while. Her mother said it was just that most ponies couldn't see things properly unless you explained it to them. She was good at that. All the filly knew was that they were a pain in the flank to dust.

Finally she reached the door at the end of the hall, pushed it open, and entered as silently as possible.

At the time, the filly didn't have any basis to compare the office with, but her experiences later in life would reveal that there was a certain 'pre-bought' quality to the room. There were bookshelves, but the tomes therein were never touched (something she knew for a fact, being the one who had to clean them), quite unlike the well-used volumes in a certain alicorn's office. There were no pictures of the family on the desk, or in fact any personal touches whatsoever. The decor seemed specifically chosen to convey a message: 'This is a serious businesspony. You can trust him with your money.'

Her father sat at a magnificent and trustworthy desk, quill in wing. She'd gotten her mane's hue from his hide, and his own gleaming gold mane always gave the impression that it had just been professionally styled. His cutie mark was of a golden coin, upon which was a representations of a pair of hooves clasped to seal an agreement. It was notable, she felt, that the hoof matching his own coloration was in a sort of dominant state, reaching down to the other's weaker position.

"Finally, in regards to your question," he said aloud as he wrote on a sheet of paper, "the project has been somewhat delayed due to the current troubles, as I'm sure you will understand, but I can assure you that your share of the proceeds will be deposited into your account as soon as possible. I appreciate your patience, and I look forward to our next meeting. Yours truly, et cetera, et cetera."

He signed the letter with a flourish and set it aside to go out with the afternoon mail; possibly to a recipient in Cloudsdale, but more likely to a pony further afield. He never did business with those living in the other manors in the community; though they were sufficiently wealthy, they mainly got that way by holding on to their fortunes with an iron mouthgrip. He preferred the nouveau riche, the eager go-getters, the ones desperate for that extra edge. Those, in other words, not overly burdened by experience.

"That should do for now," he murmured. "That red oaf really is doing half of my work for me these days." Then the smell from the cart reached him, and he looked up with a broad smile. He was very good at smiling, and she didn't yet know how a smile could be a lie all on its own. "Perfect timing! Good morning, pumpkin." Then he blinked as he got a good look at her. "What happened to...?"

A hoof lifted to her mane unbidden. "Good morning, father. And... I prefer it this way." She placed a cup and bowl before him.

"Oh. All right, then." He reached for the cup first, as he always did, and took a long sip of high-grade gourmet Burrolumbian coffee. "Mmm. Just what I needed. So!" He pulled the bowl toward him and lifted the spoon. "What's in the morning posts?"

The filly took up a small collection of envelopes and leafed through them, though she'd already given them a quick look while the oatmeal was cooking. "Well, let's see. Miss Silver Lining would like an update on her investment..."

"Lining, Lining." He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Ah, yes. Send her a note that despite the recent troubles, the crops have been planted and we should see a good harvest within a few weeks."

She nodded, then peered at the letter again. "Is this right, though? She says it's a donut farm. I thought those were baked, or fried or something."

Her father smiled at her. "These are special donuts. Magical, and very tasty."

"Wow. Equestria sure has a lot of weird stuff, doesn't it?"

"It sure does. pumpkin."

She made a note on the envelope and looked at the next one. "Mr. Cloudleaper is asking when his dividend check is coming."

He checked his mental filing cabinet again. "Mmm, it has been a while... send him a check for three thousand bits."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and... don't bother with the account number at the bottom. The banks know who I am."

She nodded, duly impressed at his financial fame. "Mr. Downpour says he wants to invest in the evaporated cloud project."

"Hah!" He grinned broadly. "One born every minute!"

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Copy out the standard contract, fill in the right information, and send it over."

"Yes, sir." That would take a bit of time, but she'd gotten better at it over the years and now it would only take her an hour or so. It would have been nice to get one of those new mimeograph machines she'd read about, but he'd vetoed the idea as an unnecessary expense. "And last one... oh. Mrs. Peaceful Morn has written again. She's asking for her money." The filly turned the page over. "She's being very insistent." She glanced over three more sheets, the letters small with condensed anger. "...I don't think I'm supposed to know some of these words," she said finally.

"How strange. I'm sure I've fulfilled my end of our agreement. Well, put it on the Pending pile; I'll take care of it later."

She nodded and delivered it to a tray half-full of similarly urgent-sounding messages. She knew he would indeed handle the issue in due time, usually on some cold morning, though she always found it a bit concerning that the tray was so close to the room's fireplace.

Her father finished off his breakfast, and she moved the dishes back to the cart. However, before she cloud wheel them back to the kitchen, he raised a hoof. "Hold on a minute, pumpkin. Stay for a little while. I've been thinking we should have a chat."

The filly stopped and spun around, hope rising. "Really? You want to spend some time with me?"

"Well, sure. We mostly just talk about my work, but we should talk about you sometimes, too, shouldn't we?"

"Sure! Oh," she added reluctantly, "but I still haven't brought mother her-"

He waved this away. "She's busy with her Art. She won't notice."

His daughter nodded, though with some doubt. This was probably true, though the mare could be unpredictable that way. "O-okay, then!" He gestured at one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, and she flew over to it. "It's been so long since we talked about... anything!" Her thoughts began to overflow with possible subjects. The books she read recently, a funny dream she'd had, that one chess game she'd gotten really close to winning...

"Yes, indeed!" He pulled a slim volume from a desk drawer and opened it before him. Her heart immediately began to sink. "It's been simply ages since you've gotten a performance review!"

The filly tried to hide her disappointment even as she deflated. "Oh," she said softly. "Of course that's what you meant." But she rallied bravely. For the chance to spend time with her father, even this was better than nothing. Her father's time was extremely valuable, she knew, and valuable things should not be wasted.

He produced a second quill from the desk, as well as a flask of red ink. She watched it dourly; the red flask was the enemy. "Now, then... let's go over your chore productivity numbers..."

The process took several minutes, and the filly became more confident as each item was evaluated and discussed. The list of chores she'd been given had been daunting at first, but over the years she'd learned to be efficient and precise, completing her work ever more quickly yet with painstaking thoroughness, and her performance review reflected that. By the end of it, the red flask had hardly been used at all.

"...and the tidiness of the bathrooms, I might add, has been exemplary!" He closed the thin book and beamed at here. "Very well done!"

She returned his smile proudly. "Thank you, father!"

"You've done such a good job that I think I can raise your allowance to six... no seven bits a month! To be held in an annuity, of course, until you move out."

The filly just nodded. She knew money was important, given how much of her parent's attention it commanded, but she never had much chance to spend it anyway. Her father's approval was far more valuable to her, fleeting though it sometimes seemed.

"Still, quite exceptional work," he continued. Then he paused and his features shifted slightly. It was too subtle for the filly (as she was at the time) to understand, but her older self would recognize the expression as something she'd practiced in the mirror to perfection. "Golly! And to think you can do all that when you're only nine years old!"

"I'm actually ten now, remember!" she corrected him, even more proudly. Her birthday had been the previous week, a fact that she'd recalled only from a coincidental glance at the calendar, and all children saw that milestone as a major personal accomplishment.

"Oh, that's right, isn't it?" he said, apparently surprised. "You're a big girl now, aren't you? And," he added, muzzle dipping back into the desk drawer, "you know what a big girl gets, right?"

"No, what?" she asked eagerly.

He laid another book, much the same as the first but rather more... substantial. "A big girl's responsibilities! Take this with you and look it over. You'll need to do these starting tomorrow."

Her expression was one of mounting dismay as she leafed through the book. It was full of new chores to do, most of them involving maintaining the manor's grounds. Its quite extensive grounds. She could feel her already limited spare time slipping away with every page she read. "I have to do all this? Every day?" she asked mournfully.

"Oh, no, pumpkin." Her father laid the thinner volume on top of its newer companion. "You'll need to do both of these every day."

"But... it's going to take me forever!"

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Oh, I know, and I'm sorry. But times are tough these days, and we all have to make sacrifices for the family. All right?"

The filly sighed. "...okay."

"That's my girl. Now run along and take your mother her breakfast. Oh, and make sure to take your medicine. We want to make sure you're full of energy."

"You're late."

She paused at the doorway. There was, she knew, no scheduled time for breakfast to arrive, but it would do no good to point that out. "I'm sorry, mother. Father wanted to talk to me."

The mare scoffed. "Whyever would he do that? Useless stallion." Then she let out a tch sort of noise, which served as her favorite punctuation. "Very well."

She pushed the cart into her mother's studio, which was always a little colder than the rest of the house. This was due to the medium of the mare's art; clouds needed to be kept cool, lest they evaporate (though not too cold, lest they snow). Two large doors led to an adjacent storage room by way of a sort of airlock, to minimize the movement of air within. Raw materials were kept there, rare and precious chunks of vapor collected by skilled cloud miners, or at least that's what her mother told the buyers. The filly had noticed the cloudscape surrounding the manor seemed to get more and more bare with every passing moon, large yet manageable chunks just mysteriously vanishing, but that was surely a coincidence.

Her mother stood at the far end of the room, dressed in a smock and lumps of cumulus piled around her hooves. The mare was quite pretty, in her daughter's opinion; with an azure hide and a short-cut mane of pink and orange, she stood out against the grayish-white slab before her like a particularly fanciful sunset, though this was not reflected in her usually stern demeanor. Her cutie mark, a candle in an old-fashioned holder surrounded by a spiral of cloudy vapor, was mostly hidden by the smock, only occasionally becoming visible as she worked.

And work she did, her attention fully returned to her Art. With pingle held in one wingtip and riddleknife in the other (the essential tools of cloudshaping), she made careful adjustments in the half-finished project, slivers of cloud gently falling to join the others. Normally the fragments would simply float away, as clouds do, but the spray chemical that made the substance possible to work also made it just a little more dense than the air. The filly was quite familiar with the process, given that she was in charge of the pre-Art preparations, the final sealant that would make the finished product stable enough to transport (with care), and, of course, the clean up.

She quietly moved a bowl to a small side table. No mug for her mother; instead the bowl rested on a serving dish, around which was laid three small rectangles, wrapped in gold. Delivery completed, she turned to exit.

She hadn't made a sound, she was sure. The little cart's wheels had been well oiled for this specific reason. Nevertheless, she hadn't gone a hooflength before her mother snapped, "Where do you think you're going?"

Every day, always the same... "I still have to-"

"It can wait. Come here."

She very carefully didn't sigh, and hovered over to her mother's side. The mare looked down at her, and specifically her flanks, with disapproval. "Tch. Still nothing?"

"I haven't done any since yesterday, mother," the filly pointed out, quite reasonably she thought.

"They could have appeared in response to a dream. You never know. I feel that you're simply not trying hard enough."

"I am, I promise!" She looked back at the undersized appendages on her back. "Maybe I can't get them until I can hold the tools properly?" Her mother had large, even majestic wings, well-toned from plying her craft. She hoped it wouldn't be long until hers developed to even a fraction of their size and beauty. "I'm trying, but it's just so hard..."

"No excuses. We must all make sacrifices for the sake of the family." Then the mare peered past her daughter. "Oh, and just look at that. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand time; I only want one with my breakfast. I must keep in shape, after all."

"I'm sorry, mother. I forgot." That was easier than pointing out that the filly tended to get unofficially punished, by word if not deed, if she neglected the full complement of rare Stirrupzerland chocolates. When she followed her mother's stated instructions, she found herself burdened with extra chores or smaller meal portions, completely without explanation. The entire situation had confused her, until her father had suggested she just add the extra chocolates anyway, and let her mother's snide comments just roll off. After their conversation earlier, however, she was feeling uncharacteristically rebellious. "I'll just put the extras back, then. Since you don't want them."

Her mother blinked, and for a moment was gloriously off-balance. She sputtered for a moment, then: "That... won't be necessary. I'll take care of them myself. Just be more careful next time."

"Yes, mother." The mare's tone had turned sharp, and there was no point in pressing further.

"Now, come along." Her mother nodded at a smaller workstation in the corner of the room. A fresh block of cloudstuff was in position. "You won't get your mark unless you keep at it."

"But I haven't even eaten yet," the filly protested, knowing she would be kept there for at least another hour once she started, and also that complaining about it would do no good. "If I leave it much longer, it'll start to burn..."

"Tch. You really should have thought of that before you..." Then the mare paused. "...have you had your medicine?"

"No, mother. I have to take it with breakfast, remember?"

Two emotions warred on the mare's face. One was the impatience the filly was well acquainted with, but the other... she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it won. "...oh, very well. Go eat, then. But I expect you back within twenty minutes."

The filly brightened at this unexpected largesse. "Yes, ma'am!" She buzzed away, leaving the cart behind and returning to the kitchen as quickly as he wings could carry her. The oatmeal was only a little burned, and she ladled the remainder into a bowl, then with some difficulty set the pot in the sink and filled it to soak. She added the allowed amount of condiments to the bowl, set it on the small table where she ate all her meals... and then, with some reluctance, turned toward a specific cupboard and opened it.

Three large bottles awaited her within, each glowing slightly with its own faint light. The liquid they contained was not a uniform color, but rather consisted of bands alternating between electric blue and pale lavender. This coloration persisted even when she tilted the nearest one and poured a carefully measured amount into a small spoon. One, two, three spoonfuls, each swallowed with a grimace, before the bottle was corked once more and returned to the cupboard.

The entire ritual wouldn't be so bad, except she wasn't sure what the medicine was for. It wasn't as though she'd ever been to a doctor. About two weeks before, her parents had brought in the bottles and instructed her on this new regimen. Of course, they must have had a good reason, so she had dutifully taken the required dose every morning. The taste wasn't... bad, as such, but it was an unappealing mixture of flavors that she could never quite nail down. And it made her feel just a little bit odd for the next few hours after her daily dosage. But at least that meant it was doing something, right? Besides, she just couldn't disappoint her parents. And to look on the bright side, following the medicine up with oatmeal quickly washed the taste away, though admittedly this usually wasn't a huge improvement.

She returned to her mother's workspace - or, as the mare put it, her atelier - at the nineteen minute mark. Her mother tched but said nothing, instead gesturing with one wing toward a fresh block of cloud set up in the corner. The filly regarded it sourly, as it was the one part of her day she actively disliked. All the cooking and cleaning and paperwork and so on were tiring and repetitive and dull, but she knew she could finish them if she kept at it, and that brought a certain comfort that she would at some point she would be done and everything would be right. This, however...

Her mother cleared her throat meaningfully, and the filly very carefully did not sigh. Instead, she advanced toward the cloud block, picking up a pingle from the nearby table. The tool, looking to the uninitiated like an oddly hooked mallet, was designed to be held in the wing, but even her mother acknowledged that the filly's undersized limbs weren't up to the task; this, of course, was not her fault, though the mare nevertheless quietly blamed her anyway. Instead she gripped it awkwardly between her forehooves, swapping it with the complex curves of a riddleknife as needed.

They worked in silence, carefully clipping and shaving bits out of their respective materials, though where the filly was concerned the word 'worked' was more correctly replaced by 'struggled'. Whenever she tried to pry out a piece of cloud, the result was always either too little or worse, too much. And the riddleknife never seemed to go where she wanted it. It was torture.

And it was her own fault. Obviously.

It couldn't be that she simply lacked talent for the craft. She'd never heard the word 'genetics', but after several of her mother's little talks, she knew more about heredity than any pony her age (although most of it was wrong). It just wasn't possible that the child of a pony so gifted could lack any of her parent's innate genius. It could only be that she wasn't applying herself sufficiently. That's what the mare told her, and she trusted her mother implicitly. So she suffered through the daily training sessions, hoping beyond hope that someday her efforts would bear fruit. She hated feeling like a disappointment, as she so often did.

Finally the mare stepped away from her own work, stepped back and regarded it for a moment, then made one final adjustment and nodded to herself. "There. Just in time for tonight."

Her daughter increased her speed as much as she dared, trying to get as close to her intended result as possible in the few seconds she had left. All too soon, however, her mother's shadow fell over her, and she lowered her pingle, not daring to look up. Long seconds passed, and then the mare said, "I have spent the last hour finishing up a Tribute to the Ingenuity of Necessity." The filly snuck a glance and, yes, that was just what it looked like. It had been just a series of triangles and twists a moment before, but her mother's art tended to be exactly what you were told it was. "I expect it will fetch at least fifty thousand bits at this evening's function. I'm quite proud of it. Meanwhile, you have created... this." If her voice did not actually drip with scorn, it was because her tone was so cold as to freeze on contact. "What is it?"

The filly stared at the ground. She couldn't blame her mother for the question. Her project barely had more shape than it had begun with. "It's a duck."

Another pause. "A duck."

"I... I just thought it kind of looked like a duck so I tried to make it more, um... duckish." She felt like she was becoming even smaller under her mother's gaze. "...it didn't work as well as I wanted."

"And no mark, I see. Tch." More seconds passed, then her mother turned away. "Dispose of it. Then move my Tribute into the curing room and prepare it for display."

"Yes, mother," she mumbled.

"Oh, and only use half of the usual amount. No... make that a third."

The filly looked up at her quizzically. "A third of the recommended dose, or a third of the half you already have me use?"

"A third of the half, obviously. They've raised their prices again, and my Art will not be held hostage to the whims of capitalism."

Preparation of cloud sculptures involved an aerosol spray can of a chemical that fixed the cloudstuff in place, making it denser and more cohesive without affecting its size or shape. A can of the fixative cost five bits. "Are you sure, mother? The half-dose leaves them kind of wobbly. A third of that would hardly do much at all, wouldn't it? It could fall apart from breathing too hard on it."

Her mother snorted. "As long as that happens after they give me the money, I couldn't care less."

"...if you say so," she said doubtfully. Her mother knew best, she supposed, and at least it would be easier to move the sculpture to the display area when she was done; a full dose gave sculptures a certain weight and inertia, and it was a tiring job moving them around all by herself.

"Flap to it, then."

"Yes, mother." She hesitated, then said, "Once I'm done with all my chores, may I go to the park for a little while?" After all, she thought gloomily, remembering her new list of responsibilities, it may be the last chance I ever get.

Her mother stared down at her coldly, as if weighing the filly's soul in balance with a brief trip under the sun. "...very well," she said finally. "Won't do to have you underhoof while the caterers set up. But make sure the Prism is safely in place first, and you may only be out for fifteen minutes."

That wasn't much at all, but as always, she was happy to take what she was given. "Thank you, mother."

"Fifteen minutes, and not a moment more," the mare reiterated, and then continued with what was likely the most truthful thing she'd ever said to the filly, even if neither of them realized it at the time. "This is going to be a very special evening, possibly the most important one in our lives."

The rest of the morning and afternoon went by quickly, at least in comparison to her cloudsculpting practice. And at least curing her mother's Art took less time than usual. After that, she finished her cleaning chores, worked on her father's paperwork, prepared and delivered lunch (oatmeal again, of course), and double checked the display room and study; you had to be careful in case there was a draft disrupting the sculptures, or if her father's folding screen had...

The folding screen had unfolded itself again. She didn't know why he didn't just replace the faulty thing, or rather she did (money) but wished he would see sense on this one point at least. It was a four-panel affair, splitting the screen vertically in half twice so it could more easily be moved or placed into storage. You could draw a presentation on it with special erasable pens and then take it with you, though this one generally stayed where it was. Her father was very proud of it and used it at each of his seminars.

The filly had a different opinion. Maybe they were normally very modern and impressive. This particular one, though... if you didn't open it the right way, or if it just felt like it apparently, the latches holding closed the panel on either end would pop open with surprising force. This had happened to her father once before wrangling the thing was added to the filly's list of chores. She'd learned how to handle it safely out of sheer necessity. and hadn't gotten too bruised in the process.

Her father had already prepared the screen for his presentation - a simple message this time, nothing too complicated - and had left it closed so that party guests couldn't peek at what he had planned to talk about and possibly leave before they could give him money. Now the two end panels were visible, the message written there squished together, and looking at the image this produced made her giggle, mostly because she was ten. Then she closed it properly, and reminded herself to open it carefully when the time came. The party guests likely wouldn't appreciate a comic masterpiece like that.

The caterers arrived two hours before sunset, at the mansion's service entrance. She gave them their instructions on where and how to set up, and they immediately began to ferry in trays of dainties and baked delights, designed to tease the taste buds without providing the slightest nutritional content. This was not the first function they'd catered at the mansion. In fact, she suspected they had been here so many times that...

Yes, sure enough, a bespectacled mare advanced upon her, with an expression severe enough to rival her mother's. The filly had seen her once or twice before, but had only exchanged a few words. Now she seemed to have something on her mind. "You. Child. Where are..." The mare paused and stared at her, a bit uncertainly. "...you are the child of our customers, correct? I thought you looked... different."

Her hoof ascended briefly. "Uh, yes, ma'am. It's just my... I prefer it this-"

The mare's hoof also went up, but in a command for silence. "Stop. I do not care. Where are your parents?"

"I'm afraid they aren't available right now," she said, repeating the memorized phrase automatically.

"Hm. Well, tell them to contact our office, if you would. There is a certain matter of unpaid invoices to discuss."

"Yes, ma'am." It was likely she would never see the mare again. Oh, she'd tell her parents, as requested, but usually it was at that point that her father would loudly point out issues with the catering service that the filly had never noticed, and claim he wouldn't pay for such shoddy work. Then he'd have a word with the community's roaming security ponies, and that would be the last she'd ever hear from that catering service, apart from letters that went in the Pending stack.

She didn't say any of this, though. Instead she simply said, "I'll be sure to let them know. Oh, and mother wanted to be sure that you moved the Prism out."

"Yes, of course, as always." The mare nodded at a trio of pegasi who were - very, very carefully - moving a heavy object covered by a cloth toward a tall pedestal in the center of the foyer. The pedestal itself was highly reinforced, almost to the point of being too dense to be supported by the clouds beneath it. "We'll be back to return it to storage this evening. Though with how expensive and fragile that thing is, I don't see why you don't just leave it in place. It's a risk every time we move it"

"Father says it's far too valuable to leave out," the filly said, a bit doubtfully. She'd had much the same thought herself.

"Hm. Well, I hope you at least have it insured."

"Oh, we do." That was definite. It was one of the family's major expenses, and one that she never received any complaint letters over. She was only just starting to realize what those letters actually indicated, but she still had faith that her father knew what he was doing.

"Just be sure to pass that message on, then, please." The mare moved off, immediately dismissing the filly from mind and memory.

The filly conscientiously stayed to watch the caterers work as long as she could, but eventually one single factor drove her away: the smell. Not that it was a bad smell; the exact opposite, in fact. The foyer and dining hall swiftly filled with the scent of sweets, baked goods, and finely crafted tidbits of all sorts and varieties. And the filly was not, under any circumstances, allowed to even sample any of it. Even after the party, the caterers would clear out any leftovers, which seemed especially unfair. It would save money, she had argued more than once, to keep some of it to at least supplement their meals. But no, this was considered too low-class for the family. What would their clients think if they found out? They would think the family couldn't afford fancy entrees at every meal. The fact that they didn't actually have such meals, ever, made no difference whatsoever.

No. They didn't need such frivolities (particular exceptions notwithstanding). If she was hungry, it was clear, she could have oatmeal. But only within the allowed amount, of course. Her parents weren't running a charity, after all.

So she fled, before the smell caused her stomach to climb up her esophagus and swallow an entire tray of tiny, tiny cupcakes.

Freedom! Or at least fifteen minutes of it.

It took most of a minute to reach the edge of the property, which she knew her mother would count against the filly, even though she wasn’t actually at the park yet. (She hadn’t even told her mother before leaving, but the mare somehow always knew exactly when she left and came back. Call it motherly instincts, a trait otherwise almost completely absent.)

She paused at the edge of the park, weighing her options. She would love to cut straight through to the old house on the other side of it and check the library’s new arrivals. Fetlock’s estate not only maintained the collection he’d amassed in life, but also brought in fresh works of fiction as they became available, a fact that the filly took advantage of whenever she was the allowed the time to browse.

She’d become particularly fond of a series of scrolls from Neighpon, concerning a particular and peculiar family. For complicated reasons, a changeling on a mission had to go into deep cover and enter into a fake marriage with an awkward but attractive wife (who secretly happened to be a bat-pony), and adopt a precocious and willful daughter (who secretly happened to be an alicorn; she wore a lot of large hats). It was a ridiculous concept, of course, but she loved reading about the unlikely circumstances they found themselves in and the growing familial bonds between them. It made her long for the same kind of closeness, absent as it was from her own life. But of course such things were deemed frivolous and unnecessary in her home. Even her timid suggestion that she might call her parents, as the alicorn child had called hers, “Papa” and “Mama” was immediately stomped into the cloud. Such familiarity, her mother explained sharply, was entirely inappropriate. She was careful never to breach the subject again.

In any case, there wasn’t nearly enough time to roam the stacks. She could easily lose an hour or two if she wasn’t careful. But she spotted a dash of somewhat faded orange amongst the greenery, and smiled, darting forward almost without realizing it.

As she flitted along the path, the color resolved itself into an elderly pegasus seated at one of the park’s fixtures: a table-sized chessboard, forged of cloudstuff. These weren’t part of the original plan for the park, and were scarcely used, but she knew he had donated them himself and didn’t mind; they were mostly for his own benefit regardless, to sit and play among the pleasant surroundings. A series of pieces had been set up on the board and he was staring at them with an expression of concentration.

She refrained from calling out and instead hovered nearby, joining him in contemplation of the chessboard. Though she was fully aware of the seconds ticking by, she gave the pieces her full attention. Finally he said, “What do you think?”

The filly thought about it a moment longer. “White mates in… twelve.”

He responded without looking up. “You sure?”

She suddenly wasn’t, and looked again. “No, wait…” There! “…nine.”

The stallion chuckled. “Close.” He reached out with a wingtip and touched a bishop made of solidified storm cloud.

Duh! How could she have missed that? “Seven!”

He nodded with a smile. “That’s my take, too. My buddy in Van Hoover swears it’s six, but I think he’s pullin’ my bridle. How’s it going, G.T.?”

She curated her smile. Needless to say, the filly had a name, one that her parents had given her as a hope and expectation for her future, but she didn’t like it very much. (It wouldn’t survive the day.) “I’m doing fine, sir.”

“Fine but tired, from your tone. Sounds like they’ve still got you flying around taking care of everything your-“ He stopped, having looked at her for the first time. “Sweet Celestia, child, what happened to your mane?”

Her hoof raised to where long curls had recently been hacked short. “…I…”

(“Stop bawling! Long hair is too much trouble to maintain! And we can throw out those ridiculous ribbons cluttering up your dresser! You prefer it this way!”)

“…I prefer it this way,” she finally managed, never losing the smile.

He stared at her for a long moment, clearly not believing a word of it, and glanced past her to the fancy house on the hill. “Uh-huh.” Then he shook his head and with swift motions reset the board, sixteen pieces on either side. “Got time for a game?”

“A quick one,” she said, landing on the bench opposite him. The pieces were white; he was giving her the first move. That might be his downfall. While she’d been working, her mind had stayed active and had concocted some new stratagems she wanted to try out. With a brief pause to select one, the game begun.

Their legs moved in a blur as they played, the filly occasionally taking to the air briefly as her pieces advanced into enemy territory. The table had a stop clock for each player, but they didn’t use them; it would only slow them down. The game progressed quickly, and while she took a few pieces early on, the tide swiftly turned against her, and before long the stallion moved a rook, which had been innocuously sitting in the back row, across the table to capture her queen. “Mate in five,” he said confidently.

She stared at the board for a long moment, then let out a groan. “I can’t believe I flew right into that.”

He chuckled. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, filly. You’ve come a long way since we started. I bet you’ll be getting a cutie mark for the game any day now.” He nodded back at the eight-by-eight board emblazoned on his own flank.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” she demurred. “Mother would never allow it.”

With a snort, the stallion began clearing the board. “Your mother’s got no say in the matter. The world’s got a plan for all of us, child. It knows what our talents are.” He paused, then tapped the rook that had secured his victory. “It might be hiding inside you somewhere, you might not even realize it’s there… but when the time comes, it’ll be there waiting for you.” He glanced at the manor on the hill again. “Whatever it is, though, I hope it takes you somewhere you can be happy.”

She blinked at him. “But… I am happy.” Wasn't she? Her mother told her she was.

The stallion just looked at her, his eyes glancing up at the mane that wasn’t there anymore, then sighed. “Sure. Sure.”

“Anyway, I’d better get going. Thanks for the game!”

“Any time.” He hesitated, then seem to come to a decision. “Will, uh… will your parents be home tomorrow? I’m sure they’re busy today; I saw the catering carts come in.”

She frowned slighty. “They should be. They usually are.”

“Hmm. Let ‘em know I might be stoppin’ by, would you? I think I want a word with them.”

She had no idea why; nobody ever came to the manor except during parties or to buy things from her parents, and he wasn’t their usual type of customer. But she’d be glad to see him there regardless. “Sure thing!”

He nodded at her with a smile. “You take care, filly.”

“You too!” And she left, buzzing at top speed…

…to the last party the manor on the hill would ever see.

I love a good backstabbing. (Part Two)

“I never liked the parties,” Cozy Glow continued. “It’s not that they were a lot of work; I was used to that, and anyway the caterers would take care of some of the clean up afterwards. But most of the time, day to day, I never saw more than one pony at a time. Suddenly having so many strangers around me made me feel all awkward and anxious. It took me a while to get used to crowds later on. And I wasn’t allowed to talk to anypony, and they all acted like I was invisible. Honestly, I was almost glad when-“ She stopped abruptly.

Spy looked up. “What is it?”

She avoided his gaze. “…h-hey, this is all probably super boring to somecreature like you, huh? Your life’s so much more interesting, I bet. Full of action and fighting and stuff. You probably don’t want to hear-“

Oh no you don’t. “On the contrary. There’s nothing I’d like to do right now but listen to the rest of your story.” When she hesitated again, he adopted a softer tone. “I’m not here to judge your past, Miss Glow. I just want to understand.”

“But… but I bet you’re thinking that this isn’t much of an origin story. It’s just been a bunch of little stuff.”

“It might seem little to you. But while I am by no means in a position to judge someone else’s parenting techniques, even I can tell how terrible they were.“ He frowned slightly. “Though to be frank… yes. I’ve been trying to anticipate the end of your tale, but nothing so far would seem to lead you to demanding incarceration.” He gestured broadly at the cavern around them. “Your parents’ abuse was vile, but more for its neglect than out of any viciousness. Then again, I’m not any kind of good judge on that score, either. And you had a roof over your head, and food on the table every day. Where I come from that’s no certain guarantee. Though I suppose I can see how you adjusted so well to the menu, or lack thereof, in Tartarus.”

She actually laughed once, sharp and dark as Engineer’s coffee. “Ha! Yeah. I never get hungry, but whenever I start to miss eating I just think about a big bowl of oatmeal, and I suddenly don’t want anything.” Then after a pause, during which she seemed to reach a decision, she dipped her head behind her and retrieved something from the floor of the cage. A glint of metal shone between her teeth.

Spy’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”

She transferred the object to a hoof. “Tempest’s key,” she confirmed.

“…how?”

“When you threw her at my cage. It fell out of her uniform and was just dangling in front of me. She didn’t even realize I took it.”

Spy recalled the moment vividly. Unicorn and cage were tumbling wildly through the air, the latter’s occupant screaming in panic. To see and seize an opportunity in all that chaos…! She really was astounding.

“Anyway,” she said, seeming to have calmed down and regained her courage, “there’s a reason I’ve been telling you all this other stuff.”

He quirked a smile. “Are you sure you weren’t just stalling?”

“No!” She hesistated, thinking about his question. “I-I mean yes!” The filly glowered at his smirk. “I mean shut up! Up to now, I’ve just been setting the stage. I just wanted to give you some background, in order to make a point.”

“Go on.”

She approached the padlock to her cage. It had been damaged during the earlier shenanigans, excessively bent and dented. It was also facing away from the cage’s interior, so the filly would need to reach around it with her comparatively short legs. Spy felt he could open it for her easily if Cerberus would move the cage a bit closer to him, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. This wasn’t the right moment. “I could have been anything,” she said quietly, staring at the padlock.

He waited.

“I could’ve gotten a cutie mark for chess, easily. I loved books, so I could’ve gotten one for reading, or writing, or maybe for being a librarian. I could’ve gotten one for cleaning, or cooking. I could’ve been a cloud sculptress, like my mother wanted. From all the work I did for my father, I could have been a… what’s the word? A paralegal, though I have no idea what kind of mark that would look like. Maybe I could’ve even been a party planner; I helped set up enough of them. The world could have given me a cutie mark for any of these things. Any one of them, and my whole life would have been different.” Then she shook her head and began the awkward process of trying to open a damaged lock, from behind, blind, with hooves. “But that’s not what the world wanted for me. The world had something else in mind…”

The Prism had been uncovered, and with specially placed lights directed upon it, cast brilliant refractions around the room, making everything just a bit brighter, shinier, and more opulent. Which was only part of the reason it was there.

Simply put, much like her father’s office, the Prism was bait. It had been hoofcrafted by master earth pony artisans, perfected and enchanted by Canterlot-trained unicorns, and transported to Cloudsdale at great expense. It was exceedingly valuable, and Everypony who saw it could easily recognize that fact. Surely, the message it conveyed said, if the ponies who lived here owned something like that, which probably cost hundreds of thousands of bits, they could be trusted with, say, an investment of a few thousand, right? And they clearly knew a thing or two about the finer things in life, so the sculptures on display must be quite reasonably priced! (Of course, these assumptions were entirely wrong, but that was the whole point.)

It was the filly’s responsibility to greet guests at the door and, depending on the purpose of their visit, direct them to either the study or the display room. Both were connected to the dining hall, and the guests were to be encouraged to help themselves. And they were more than welcome to mingle and visit the other destination, if the fancy took them. Such cross-pollination was uncommon, but always a welcome surprise.

There were roughly three dozen ponies in attendance, which was a good sized crowd. Most of them were unfamiliar to her, and not coincidentally were there to hear her father’s latest investment opportunity. He didn’t get a lot of repeat business, as far as she could tell, but he still seemed to be able to bring in new clients somehow. Conversely, her mother had a group of diehard fans, who were each eager to see and bid on her latest masterpieces, with a few newcomers wanting to see what all the fuss was about. Both groups, the filly would decide later, had only one thing in common: they had far more money than sense, though at least her mother’s customers were getting something semi-tangible out of the deal, overpriced as it may be.

When it seemed that the last guest had joined the party (though there was always the possibility of late arrivals), the filly went to the kitchen and loaded up with a tray bearing glasses of fine cider, which she balanced carefully on her head as she returned to the dining hall. (The cart, of course, was not to be used when guests were around.) She patrolled the party unobtrusively, allowing guests to take fresh glasses or deposit empty ones and returning to the kitchen as needed.

If there was one thing she liked about the parties, it was that they provided her only link to the outside world. It wasn’t much of a link, admittedly – though the guests liked to chat and gossip, there usually wasn’t much she was interested in, being talk about fine arts or business deals. Lately, though, it had been a bit more interesting than usual.

“…bad business, that,” a stallion said. “They say he’s already taken Appleloosa.”

“Oh, it’s always one thing or another these days,” replied a mare loftily. “The Princesses will take care of it. They always do.”

“I suppose…”

Do they, though? She’d heard vague hints of various dire events happening in the lands below, but the piecemeal information the filly had collected suggested there was some other pony, or ponies, who did most of the heavy lifting for the Princesses recently. She moved on as the mare nudged the conversation to less interesting topics.

She overheard more comments in a similar vein, though they all remained annoyingly vague. Another crisis of some kind, apparently, though there didn’t seem to be very much concern among the party goers. Maybe they thought they were too rich for it to affect them. She probably wouldn’t find out anything more solid for months, if then. She could blame her parents’ thrift for the lack of newspaper delivery, but honestly none of the homes in the community seemed to get their information in such a plebian way.

Once the guests all had a drink in wing, her parents stepped out onto a landing overlooking the foyer, a curved (and completely unnecessary, but architecturally appealing) stairway leading up to it on either side. They were both dressed in their finest outfits, and stood posed in the light of the Prism. They looked amazing together, and even though she had begun to understand that this was just a public mask they wore, she still felt her pride and love toward them growing. They were her parents, and she liked seeing them together. She so seldom got the chance.

She flew up to them and provided each with a glass of cider, then backed away. Her father tapped the rim of his glass with a small fork he held in his other wing. The chime thus produced attracted the attention of their guests, who filtered out into the foyer.

“My friends,” he said grandly when he had their attention, “welcome to our little function, and thank you for allowing us the opportunity to help enrich your lives. I look forward to helping all of us reach our true potentials.” He smiled down at them, in a way that made each guest think they were being favored individually.

"Before we begin," he went on, becoming slightly more somber, "I must mention the manticore in the room. I know you all have concerns about the recent troubles down on the surface. I understand. That sort of thing would leave anypony concerned about the future. Well, let me be the first to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I have it on very good authority that the Princesses have the situation well in hoof, and there's no doubt in my mind this whole problem will just fade away within a week or two. That blundering clod stands no chance against an Equestria united!"

The tension immediately left the atmosphere, and most of the crowd began to look more relieved. One exception was a dappled gray stallion near the filly, who snorted doubtfully. Though not too loudly; she was probably the only one who heard it.

“Now,” her father continued, “for those who have been here before, you know how this goes. For the rest of you, we’ll be starting my own presentation in twenty minutes, followed by my lovely wife’s unveiling shortly afterwards. You’re more than welcome to-“

The floor suddenly trembled, setting cider to sway in glasses. The assembled ponies looked at each other in mild alarm.

Her father chuckled reassuringly. “Just some turbulence, I’m sure,” he said. “I’ll have a word with the weather service in the morning. As I was saying, I invite you all to continue to mingle and enjoy the provided refreshments. They’ll just go to waste otherwise!” A chuckle rose around the filly as she suppressed an unwanted flare of annoyance.

Her father treated the mare at his side with a gleaming smile. “Shall we, my dear?” That was part of the mask, too.

She returned it, though less proficiently due to little practice. “Of course, darling.”

They descended, each taking a different staircase. Not (for once) from any desire to be separated, but because they were each swarmed by guests eager to speak with them.

“Dear heart, you simply must tell us where you get your inspiration!” a mare gushed to her mother. “I’ve moved the one I bought last month – you know, the…” Her eyes unfocused slightly. “…the one with… with the circles and the one wobbly-looking thing…”

“Ah, my ‘Reflection on Perseverance Amidst Misfortunes’.”

The mare brightened suddenly. “That’s it! I’ve moved it to my sun room, and it looks simply amazing! Extremely, you know, persevering.”

“So glad you like it,” the filly’s mother said with a slight smile. “Though there’s even better to be had later on…”

“…heard all about you from Mister Partner here,” said a fresh faced young pegasus to her father. “He’s given me plenty of good advice, so I thought I’d take a bit more.”

“I haven’t gone wrong with any of this stallion’s deals yet,” confirmed the dappled pegasus from earlier in a rumble. “I’m looking forward to whatever he’s got panned now.”

The filly recognized the pegasus now. Silent Partner, one of her father’s few repeat customers. Somehow she never got any complaint letters from him, either. He never missed a party, and always brought along one or two new pegasi with him. She usually saw letters from them within a few months.

Her father laughed charmingly. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about that later. Anticipation is a spice, my friends! For now, enjoy yourselves! Happy thoughts, everypony!”

“…much as we can…” Silent muttered, with a brief glance downward.

She’d lingered too long, and her father gave her a meaningful look. The filly hurriedly went back to providing fresh drinks to the guests. It technically wasn’t a particularly taxing chore, but maintaining the tray’s balance in flight was tiring. When all the guests were on their second glass, and when she was sure her mother was occupied, she slipped back into the kitchen for refills and took a moment to sit down and rest her wings. The silence was a relief, and she finally had a chance to think.

Happy thoughts. Her father liked that phrase. Happy thoughts made making deals easier, and didn’t cost anything. Happy thoughts were easy enough, but… were they just a mask of her own? Just a surface level seeming? She thought she was truly happy, but her conversation in the park had made her start to wonder. How could she know if she was truly happy? What even was happiness, when you got right down-

"You're stalling again."

"A-am not!"

The room shook, interrupting her train of thought. It was another tremor, stronger this time but not enough to spill any cider, and it was preceded by what sounded like… a rush of wind? It was breezy outside, but not that breezy…

Her ears twitched as she noticed a singular tone among the hubbub outside the kitchen door. Her mother’s voice, which she’d gotten very good at picking out. Quickly she loaded up with a fresh tray and hurried out.

The mare was just a few hooflengths from the kitchen, and the filly suspected she’d been on her way to find (and scold) her missing daughter before being interrupted by some of her faithful customers. “…yes, of course,” she was saying. “’Dance of the Quizzical Goat’ was from one of my more whimsical periods.” The stallion she was speaking to lit up, as the previous mare had, when the name of his purchase was repeated to him. “Of course there’s been little reason for such lighthearted pieces these days.”

“Oh, dear. I hope that hasn’t affected your work.”

“Not at all!” she assured him. “In fact, I’ve been feeling quite inspired by the horrible brute. Once the Princesses defeat him, the sculpture I make in honor of their victory will be nothing short of glorious…!” She started to turn back toward the kitchen, and the filly made herself scarce.

As she passed through the crowd, she started to notice the tension was rising once more, despite her father's reassurances. Perhaps it was the free food and drink, allowing ponies to speak more frankly with each other.

"...besides, how would he even get up here?"

"He's teamed up with Discord. Discord could give him wings, or pull all of Cloudsdale to ground level."

"Oh, that's... that's an exaggeration, surely."

Another rushing noise, another tremor, causing a couple of older pegasi to nearly lose their footing. The tension in the room immediately went up a notch or two. "...surely..." the pegasus said again, glancing around the room.

The filly saw her father bustle quickly toward the group surrounding her mother, Silent Partner following closely behind. He began to speak to her quietly; she balked, then with an annoyed glance she tried to conceal from her guests, made her apologies and stepped away from them, Silent casually joining the crowd. The filly hesitated, then moved surreptitiously closer as her parents talked, though wasn't sure why she felt compelled to do so. Maybe it was because her parents spent as little time speaking to each other as possible, even during parties. Or perhaps her blooming realization that perhaps her parents' work wasn't fully above board needed further information. Possibly it was just another rebellious urge.

No, she wasn't stalling. Shut up.

"Certainly not," her mother was saying. "My viewing needs time to build anticipation. The bids will be quite anemic if I go first."

"I know," her husband replied, "but Partner's got some serious concerns. He says I went too far with the evaporated cloud idea and that nopony would invest in it."

She blinked. "But you have investors for it."

"That's what I told him, but all this trouble down below is spooking him. Says he's already lost a ton of bits in his ground level interests, and can't risk more, even for his usual cut. He's ready to walk, and if he pulls out..."

"...everypony he's brought in will pull out," she finished sourly.

"Exactly. I just need to talk to him for a while, go over some numbers to reassure him. But if we delay things too long, ponies are going to start leaving. They're nervous enough as it is. Just do your viewing first this one time."

She considered the option, then shook her head. "No, he can wait until after your presentation. The Updrafts are here tonight, and they've been simply agog to buy one of my pieces. They need to marinate just a little bit longer to get top bit from them, and you know what mindless spenders they are once they're on their third glass of cider."

"Be reasonable," he said sharply. "This could ruin the entire-"

There was a knock at the door. A very loud knock.

"And more distractions," he sighed. He glanced around and spotted the filly before she could move away. After a brief scowl at her nearness, he said "Go get the door, pumpkin."

"Yes, father." She didn't hurry across the room; that would be undignified. Around her ponies laughed (a bit too loudly) and chatted (a bit too sharply).

When she reached the door, she paused. She didn't mean to. There was a sense of pressure around it, something she'd never felt before.

The knock abruptly sounded again, making her jump.

"Well?" her mother called, barely bothering to hide the acid. "Answer it, girl!"

She swallowed, then turned the handle.

The door swung open, and it took a few moments to process what she was seeing. Her mind had to take it in bits and pieces.

…that’s a big pony.

There’s something wrong with those hooves.

And the fur. It’s so dark and coarse.

That’s a really big pony.

Wait.

Wait, what is…

Everything above where the shoulders should have been was just… wrong. And completely, unnaturally barren of fur. And red…

There was a sudden silence in the room behind her. Everypony else was seeing it too.

She took an instinctive step backwards. The creature beyond coincidentally did the same, and the… bit above the not-shoulders leaned forward. It was a tall doorway, but the creature was apparently even taller. It seemed to twist a little, its legs moving oddly atop the clouds beneath its hooves. Finally a group of rounded fleshy… things wrapped around the edge of the doorway, and the creature used the leverage to pull its upper body lower.

There were screams of shock behind her as a huge, simian face appeared in the doorway. One giant eye, a pinprick of yellow in a sea of black, surveyed the foyer. “Well, well, well,” the creature rumbled. “What have we here?”

Every pony in the room backed away, though not too quickly lest they attract the thing’s attention.

“Is this a party? And I wasn’t invited! How inconsiderate.” He – for it was definitely a male – let out a chuckle that shook the walls, then his eye rotated down to stare at the filly. “May I come in?”

All pony eyes turned toward her, and even considering her life up to now, she’d never felt so alone. “Um… no?” she tried, her voice quaking.

He sneered at her. “Why, thank you, much obliged. Don’t mind the door, I’ll let myself in.”

He released his grip on the doorway and his head lifted away from view. There was a pause, during which the filly heard a long intake of breath, then…

The rushing noise sounded again, but at this range it was much louder and was accompanied by light, and heat, so much heat that the wall above the doorway literally evaporated. Through the hole thus created, she saw the creature sending out a blazing ray of fire from its mouth, cutting into the manor somewhere to her right. He turned his head slowly, and the beam passed overhead, just below ceiling height. There were more screams, and ponies threw themselves to the floor in a panic.

Finally the noise stopped, and the filly looked up at the damage. The entire manor had been split in two lengthwise. The upper two thirds of the mansion, built as it was of solidified cloudstuff, hung in the air for a moment… then the breeze picked up, and the entire section floated to the side, and then began to fall. The south edge of it struck cloud first, and the structure slowly flipped entirely on its roof, to the accompaniment of crashing furniture within. The walls gradually began to break apart and drift away; the solidification treatment could only do so much.

Her home - the only home she’d ever known – was gone. True, she’d had precious little in the way of possessions, but it was still her home. And all she could think was how angry her parents would be.

But as she looked around, she realized there was no sign of them.

“Ah, that’s better,” Lord Tirek said, pushing past the ruins of the doorway. “I do enjoy pegasus architecture. And I must say, this is a delightful party. Oh, and look!” He leaned down, and every pony was frozen in fear. “You even have a buffet!”

He was not looking at the catering.

I love a good backstabbing. (Part Three)

There is a thought that occurs to almost every child at one point or another. Sometimes it's expressed as am angry accusation, a spiteful reaction to some world-shattering punishment, such as going to bed on time or being told to clean their room. Less often, it's a dark and intrusive question, that is ultimately discarded based on all available evidence to the contrary. Occasionally, in tragic cases, the question is answered and filed away with grim hopelessness, for it isn't something the child can do anything about.

The filly had more cause than most to ask herself the question, and every time her subconscious passed it along, she tossed it down a deep hole rather than process it. She wouldn't allow herself the possibility of believing it was true. She was a good and faithful filly, and that was all that mattered.

But the thoughts never truly went away. They dd what many things did at the bottom of a hole: they festered.

One pegasus screamed, and that was enough to send the whole herd into action. They scattered, taking wing and fleeing in all directions. Tirek laughed maliciously and bounded after them. Only a few of the pegasi, Silent Partner among them, had the sense to fly away in a straight line; the rest were too panicked to think clearly, and zigged and zagged over the ruined manor like a cloud of gnats, blindly hoping that sheer movement and numbers would keep them safe.

It didn’t. Tirek tracked a pair of pegasi as they neared each other, then opened his mouth wide and drew the magic out of both of them. They fell to the cloud below them, groaning weakly and all but unconscious. Then he picked a new target.

The filly hadn’t attempted to escape. In such an exodus, her small size would have resulted in her being knocked about. Instead, she stood frozen, watching the centaur’s rampage in horror for long moments before snapping out of her daze and hurrying into what remained of the manor. “Father! Mother!” she called. “Where are you?!”

Despite the screams from above and the occasional sound of ponies striking cloudstuff, she heard her mother’s voice, indistinct but ringing out in mid-complain. She followed the sound, staying as low as possible to avoid attracting notice. Outside a small side room, one of the disused ones she rarely had to clean, she spotted her parent’s clothing (specifically her father's best tire and her mother's bejewelled scarf) discarded on the floor. Within there was the sound of rustling cloth and grunts of effort.

Uncertainly – and not entirely certain why she was uncertain – she crept closer. “H-hello?”

“Ah, perfect timing once again!” her father called out. “Come in and give us a hoof, pumpkin.”

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t to see her parents each struggling to pull on what looked like long, rough-cut garments of some kind. “…but why does it have to be this shade of red?” her mother demanded. “It’s going to clash terribly with my mane, you know it will.”

“It’s his color, dear,” her father said in a reasonable tone. “We just have to… ah, there you are. Help us out getting these on, would you?”

She stared at them. “What in Equestria are you doing?! Tirek is here!”

Her mother glanced upward at the complete lack of building above her. “You don’t say.”

The filly was too frightened to notice. “We have to get out of here! We have to-“

“Run?” her mother asked. “There’s nowhere to run. Tirek has already conquered and drained most of Equestria. Cloudsdale is barely an afterthought to him.”

“W-what?” The filly had had no idea the situation was that bad. “But… but father told everypony…”

“I told them what they wanted to hear,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the crimson cloth around his head. After a moment it popped free. “We could hardly make any bits while people were obsessing about Tirek, now could we? Not without channeling it properly, anyway. Help me find the sleeves, pumpkin.”

She automatically moved to help, even as her mind reeled in confusion. “But what about the Princesses? The, the magic of friendship?”

“Tch. Use your head, girl,” her mother said sharply. “He eats magic. What can they possibly do to stop him?”

“Besides,” added the stallion, “after all the various villains that have attacked Equestria just in the last few years, each defeated by the slimmest of margins? Well, you have to figure their luck’s going to run out sooner or later.”

“Indeed.”

The filly wobbled, her legs feeling weak. “So… that’s it? You’re saying there’s nothing anypony can do?”

“Now, I never said that, pumpkin. As a matter of fact, your mother and I have been working on a plan ever since he started taking over.”

She stared at him. It seemed impossible, but... “R-really? You can beat Tirek?”

“Not as such, but there is a way to turn this to our advantage.” Then he reached out a hoof and lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”

“I do,” she said immediately, two little words that would make her scream at herself when she remembered them later.

He smiled at her, then looked at his wife. They were both wearing the same full-body… Gowns? Cloaks? Robes. Robes was probably the right word. “All right. Just follow us, do what we say, and stay quiet. Think of the family.”

The filly nodded obediently, and fell in line as her parents walked back toward the foyer.

"Oh, thank goodness!"

The filly thought this was an odd statement to make after entering the gradually dissipating foyer. "What is it, mother?"

She nodded upward. "The Prism is still intact!" And so it was; the removal and impact of the upper two thirds of the manor had done a lot of damage, but it somehow hadn't caused the glass masterpiece to fall off its pedestal.

"Hah!" her father exclaimed triumphantly. "Lucky us, eh?"

The filly looked around at the devastation. "...lucky?"

"One should always take what victories they can, pumpkin."

"It is a shame about the house, though," her mother noted vaguely.

"Don't worry, my dear. This is why we rent." He stopped, ears perking. "I think he's coming back. Quick, over here." They retreated into a hallway, and the filly peeked around the corner.

Tirek chortled to himself as he pushed through the wispy shreds of the doorway. “Oh, I shouldn’t have indulged myself,” the centaur said aloud, addressing the only audience he cared to entertain: himself. As he spoke, he emitted a faint glow and grew noticeably larger. “It always makes me put on a few pounds.”

As he chuckled at his own wit, the filly finally got a clear view of how the centaur was managing to stand on clouds... even though the explanation made no immediate sense.

Balloons. Dozens of balloons were tied around Tirek's barrel, blues and yellows and reds. There was absolutely no way they should have been able to support him, especially since he was gaining mass with every pony he drained... but then she noticed there was a face, or a caricature of a horned and goatee'd face, drawn on each one. She didn't recognize it, but she felt she could make an educated guess. The method of Tirek's flight didn't have to make sense, if Discord was involved.

The centaur finished laughing and glanced around. “Now, then. I’m sure I saw a few other morsels in here. Where could they be…?”

“Did everypony else get away?” her father whispered.

She shook her head. “He drained a whole lot of ponies. It was awful.” The unluckiest of them all had fallen into the park. Soil was more unyielding than clouds, and the presence of trees and bushes would have made the impact particularly less comfortable.

“I mean is anypony still in the manor?” he insisted.

“N-no, I don’t think so. They were all outside somewhere.”

Her parents seemed to relax slightly. “Good. Just stay behind me and don’t say anything.”

“Yes, father.” He was going to cut some sort of deal, he had to be. It’s what he always did. It’s what he was good at. But what could he possibly offer to…?

”Hail, Lord Tirek!”

She stared as they walked ahead of her in their red robes, moving to the middle of the room (or what was left of it) and kneeling before the centaur. Tirek turned an uncomprehending gaze down at them. “…what is this…?” he muttered.

"Hail, Great Lord!" her father cried, rushing forward to kneel at the centaur's hooves. "Hail, mighty conqueror! Hail, Lord Tirek!"

His wife quickly joined him. "Hail, O fabled sorcerer! Hail, Lord Tirek!" She glanced sternly behind her, and with few other options the filly scampered up next to her and dropped to her knees.

Tirek stared, and only the barrage of flattery stayed his hand. "And what, exactly, are you supposed to be?"

"O Great Lord," her father said, bowing lower, "we are but simple ponies seeking only to bask in your glory. Word of your victories in the land below have spread even to the sky!"

"Your grandeur is even more magnificent than we'd dared hope!" her mother added. "What an honor it is to simply bask in your presence!"

"Hail, Lord Tirek!" her parents declared together.

Even as she trembled in the centaur's presence, the filly relaxed slightly. It's just like I thought. Father can talk anypony into anything. Not even Tirek can resist-

"Well, that's very kind of you to say," the centaur said, his voice dripping with insincerity, "but I'm a very busy creature, so if you don't mind..." His hand reached out, and his jaw began to gape, preparing to feed.

Her father spoke quickly. "Uh, of course, it would be a great honor to contribute to your conquest, O Great Lord..." He hesitated, then suddenly brightened with inspiration. "I just hope that the feast we collected for you was to your liking."

Tirek paused and looked down at the food scattered by the fleeing pegasi. "Feast? Even if I tried your little tidbits, they'd hardly satisfy me."

"Not those, O Great Lord," her mother said, catching on. "We mean all those ponies you so artfully drained of their magic! Gathering them up for your convenience was the least we could do!"

The centaur looked as confused as the filly felt, but lowered his hand. “Well. This is certainly new. You’re saying you brought those ponies here for my benefit?”

“Of course, Great Lord,” her father oozed, applying enough butter to his words to grease an elephant. “We’ve been following news of your victories with great interest, and we knew it couldn’t be much longer before you reached Cloudsdale. We wanted to give you a proper welcome.”

The filly stared at her father, aghast. What was he saying? He couldn’t possibly mean it!

…right?

No, if she thought about it, what he said couldn’t be true. They’d been planning this party for weeks! It could only be pure coincidence that Tirek arrived in the middle of it. Her father had to be just taking credit for this to get on the centaur’s good side.

Still, it was a pretty horrible thing to say. She couldn’t imagine even joking about something like this. But she had to trust her father. She did trust him.

Tirek regarded her parents for a long moment, eyebrow raised. “Interesting. I didn’t think I’d run into ponies who… appreciated my methods.”

"Oh, we're quite the connoisseurs of villainy," her mother said loftily. "You've always been one of our favorites, you know."

"Quite so!" her father added. "Chrysalis is just a thief in the night, Nightmare Moon never really got the chance to do anything, and the less said about Discord the better, but you? A creature of power and ambition, never afraid to simply take what he wants from life! It's rather inspiring, to be quite honest."

...okay, this... this did not feel good at all, kowtowing to a creature like Tirek. Her parents seemed way too comfortable in this role. But as long as they all made it out of this without getting drained, maybe it would be worth it. She just had to believe in them, that they would all get through this together...

Tirek laughed. "Well, well, well! This is a pleasant surprise! You're quite twisted for ponies, aren't you?"

Her father bowed his head. "Thank you for your kind words, Great Lord."

"Yes... perhaps I could be persuaded to let you go..."

"Oh, we would hate to put you out, Great Lord," her mother said with patently false meekness, "but if you insist..."

Then in a quick movement, he grabbed her parents, one in each hand. He wasn't quite large enough to completely engulf them, but he was able to lift them both easily. "...if I were a complete idiot," he snarled. "No ponies are that twisted. How do I know this isn't some kind of trap, or a desperate ploy to escape?"

The filly cowered in place. Oh no... oh no... oh no...

But her parents seemed oddly calm, enough to even give Tirek pause. "We thought you might ask that, Great Lord," her mother said with a serene smile.

"And to prove our conviction," said her father, "we've been preparing a special offering, just for you."

He eyed them warily. "And that is...?"

They both extended a hoof below and behind them. "Our daughter!"

Time itself seemed to freeze around the filly, with sharp and brittle edges. ...what?

Tirek peered down, and then further down. "That scrawny little thing? Really?"

"Oh, don't be fooled by her size, Lord Tirek," her father said. "I think you'll find her quite the tasty delicacy."

The centaur looked faintly disgusted. "You do know I don't actually eat my victims, don't you?"

"Of course, Lord. But we've been giving her special magic-rich medicine, used to treat unicorns who've been low on their reserves."

"Yes, it's in quite high demand lately, for obvious reasons," her mother said, even as the filly's jaw dropped open. "But we managed to secure a supply shortly after you began your conquest. I imagine she might even have as much magic as an alicorn by now!" Her smile turned nasty. "A small one, at any rate."

If the filly wasn't paralyzed by fear, she'd be staggering on her hooves. This was what the medicine was for? To placate Tirek if he ever managed to reach Cloudsdale? By making her... more delicious to him?

As she stood, transfixed by shock, Tirek leaned closer and actually took a long breath in through his hideously short nose. Her short-cropped mane rustled in the resulting breeze, and his eyes lit up. "Oh, so she does!" he exclaimed in dark glee. "Not quite alicorn level, I suspect, but as much as a dozen unicorns at least. All in such a tiny package!" He laughed. "How delightful!"

"We are glad you approve, Great Lord," her mother said demurely.

"What a treat this has been!" The centaur set the two pegasi back on their hooves. "I accept your offering. You're free to go, with my blessing."

"Thank you, Great Lord!" they said in unison, then turned and walked toward the filly, heading back into the ruined manor.

"Mother?" she asked tremulously. "Father?"

They paused near her. "Sorry about this, pumpkin," her father said, though he didn't put too much effort into sounding sincere. "This is just the way it's gotta be."

"Tch. You've only yourself to blame," her mother added. "Perhaps if you'd gotten that cutie mark, you would have been too valuable to lose."

The filly cowered in renewed shame. "B-but... even so, you're just going to let him...?!"

The stallion laid a hoof on his daughter's head. "Hush now. Remember what we've always said: we all have to make sacrifices for the sake of the family."

"Precisely. And today," the mare said, "that sacrifice is you."

Then they walked straight past her. Her attention was drawn toward the massive centaur that towered above her, chuckling evilly as her drew closer. She knew he could have just taken her magic from where he stood, but he was clearly enjoying her fear.

The filly's faith in her parents, though badly battered, was not quite fatally wounded. She forced herself to turn to look at them. She felt they must surely be showing some iota of regret for giving their only daughter to-

"...once we go through a quick bankruptcy," her father was saying, "we'll be debt free and ready to start all over, and with all our undeclared assets as well. We should end up much better off."

"Well, I, for one, am simply salivating at the thought of selling to drained ponies," her mother replied, happier than the filly had ever heard her. "Negotiating with ponies too tired to even attempt to haggle sounds simply divine!"

Her father glanced backwards. "Too bad about her, though."

The last fragments of hope rose in the filly's heart, only to be shattered immediately as her mother asked, "Does it matter?"

"Well, no, but it was useful, having somepony around to take care of all the little details. She won't be good for much once he's done with her."

Her eyes narrowed. "I hope you're not suggesting we make another," she said coldly.

"It might be worth considering," he countered, "unless you'd rather pay somepony to do everything around here..."

She shuddered. "Oh... all right. Though I'm not wearing the costume this time."

"Well, we can negotiate terms later..."

The filly stared at them hopelessly, helplessly, as the facade she'd built for her own benefit was torn to shreds by harsh reality. Everything she'd ever believed had been a lie. Everything she'd ever done to make her parents happy, to make them proud, had been for nothing.

They... they don't care about me. She swallowed, forcing it past the huge lump in her throat. They... never cared about me.

There is a thought that occurs to almost every child at some point, whether justly or unjustly: my parents don't love me. Deep within the filly's mind, the corpses of that thought, repressed and buried, had grown bloated with the evidence her conscious mind wouldn't allow her to recognize, releasing putrid gases of dark feelings.

And now, drifting down from the ashes of the filly's world, a single spark set the whole thing ablaze in a vast explosion.

There was sorrow, and confusion, and hatred, but mostly there was anger, far too much anger to exist within such a tiny body. It rose within her, the flames of rage igniting hidden memories as it ascended, gaining more and more fuel with each passing instant.

THEY NEVER CARED ABOUT ME! I was always just a... a tool to them! A convenience! Something to use up and THROW AWAY!

The anger blossomed in her mind, seething and growing like a living thing. Filled with a desperate and unstoppable need to be acted upon, it reached out to grasp everything she'd learned in her short life. Every example of deceit and manipulation, every broken promise, every lesson her parents didn't realize they were teaching her. Her rage brought them before her as a sacrament, all the things she didn't know she knew, and she felt them filling her thoughts like nothing she'd ever felt before.

They won't get away with this! I won't let them get away with this!

But be smart about it, a new instinct told her. You can't fight the centaur. Whatever else happens, you're probably going to end up drained like everypony else. And you can't fight your 'parents', at least not directly. As far as your fate is concerned, they've won.

You can, however, make sure they don't get to enjoy their victory. You can make them regret.

A great chessboard of possibilities was spread out before her, and she suddenly knew instinctively how each piece would need to be moved to secure what victory she could. The first gambit was to gather up the anger, contain it, control it, and then forge it into something more useful than the seething fury it wanted to be. Her parents had their masks, so she made a mask of her own. One to let her hide her true intentions from the world. One to keep her from ever being hurt again.

The filly looked up at Lord Tirek, near-conqueror of Equestria, who stood over ten times her height... and smiled.

The centaur paused, slightly taken aback.

It was a good smile. She'd seen it on her father's face enough times. "Golly, Mister Lord Tirek," she chirped in an ingratiating tone, "it sure is an honor to have my magic taken by someone as amazing as you!"

His eyes narrowed. "Oh, come now. I hope you don't think you can try the same trick your parents just pulled."

"Oh, gosh, no!" She could feel the pegasi's gazes on her, stopped before they left the room entirely. "I'm totally on board with donating all this magic to the cause! When you think about it, it just makes sense, doesn't it?"

It didn't, of course, but it was just enough to push past Tirek's suspicions. "...right. In that case..." He raised his hand once more.

"But first," she said, flitting up to wrap her forelegs around a finger, never losing the smile, "why don't I show you around the house a little?"

He scowled. "I'm not the slightest bit interested in your house. I destroyed your house."

"Which is great! That'll make it so much easier to show it to you!" She tugged at his finger, and was spared the implications of a certain anatomical joke (both because she didn't spend much time with other children, or for that matter her own father, and also because she wasn't born with fingers). "C'mon, you've come so far, you may as well get the grand tour. It'll only take a few minutes."

For a moment, Tirek forgot he could withdraw his finger at any time. "I don't want to-!"

"Leave the conqueror alone, pumpkin," the stallion said sternly. "I'm sure he has a busy night ahead of him."

The filly continued to smile as she turned toward him. He and his wife were controlling their expressions well, but she could tell that they were feeling uncertain. The script had gone wrong, and they weren't sure what was going on. Which was just what she wanted.

"But father," she said, her tone rich in reasonableness, "you always said I should treat any guest to our house with the utmost courtesy! Surely I should give Lord Tirek the same consideration? Or should I treat him worse than mere ponies?"

The stallion's mouth opened... and then stayed like that for several seconds as his mind ran through the various outcomes of anything he said. "...Er... I..." He looked up at Tirek, who scowled at him, daring him to make the wrong choice. "We... would be honored to entertain you further, Great Lord."

The centaur snorted. "And so you should be. But I have no intention of-"

"...missing out on getting the recognition you deserve, I know!" the filly cut in enthusiastically. "Like you said, other ponies just don't get how awesome you are! This might be your only chance to get properly royal treatment!"

Tirek paused at that, and rubbed his chin. The word royal clearly appealed to him. "Hmm... perhaps I could stay a bit longer at that..." Then he glanced around at the building he'd bisected. "...though there's hardly much left of the place to 'tour'..."

"Very true. Not that we're complaining," the stallion said quickly. "But if you'd like to come back another time I'm sure we'll have it-"

"Oh, I know!" the filly interjected. After being told to be seen and not heard most of her life, interrupting was thrilling. "Why don't you show him your presentation? Ponies always love that!"

He carefully restrained a scowl. "Now, now, pumpkin. I'm sure his Lordship wouldn't want to sit through my boring little speech."

She drooped. "Oh. Okay. If you think you know better than Lord Tirek what he wants to do, I guess that's that."

The centaur glared at the stallion, who again went through a predictive analysis of the conversation. "...uh..."

"What is this 'presentation'?" Tirek demanded.

"Oh, it's just... a little business thing I do, to get ponies to invest in my latest project. Nothing major."

"And ponies find it... entertaining?"

The stallion tossed a glare at the filly, who looked entirely free of guile. "...I try to make it engaging, yes," he admitted.

"Hmph." Tirek regarded the stallion a moment longer, then clearly decided who deserved to make decisions in the vicinity. "Well, if it's good enough for ponies, it must be good enough for me, mustn't it?"

The stallion, who had equally clearly wanted the centaur to be long gone by this point, frowned slightly. "Actually, shouldn't it be the other way a-" Tirek stared at him until he ducked his head obsequiously. "As you command, O Great Lord. This way, if you please."

The stallion had a talent for artistry that rivaled his wife’s, though his medium was not clouds, but words. He wove them like a net, masterfully catching and drawing the ear as a painter draws the eye. Even the hulking form of Tirek listened fully enthralled, intrigued despite all the talk of investments and portfolios being entirely outside his experience.

(For her part, the filly could now appreciate with enhanced clarity how the presentation was wholly devoid of anything approaching honesty, while still being very careful to never say anything that was completely untrue. And what it lacked in truthfulness, it more than made up for in earnest sincerity. It was some of the stallion’s finest work, and she tucked it away for study and emulation at a later date.)

The speech had begun to take a darker tone, touching on recent events. Which was counter to what he’d said earlier about not wanting to scare everypony, but she realized that was more about timing. Controlled fear was a powerful tool.

“…but dark days have come to our land, my friends,” he said solemnly. “Every day we hear shocking news from the surface, each more dreadful than the last. Sometimes we lose contact with entire cities. Friends, family… just gone. More and more it seems as though… Equestria is entering its final days.”

He paused, his head bowed… then, in a move that was unlikely in the original script, looked up with a cheeky grin and gestured at the massive centaur. “And I wonder whose fault that is?” he asked in a jocular tone. “Huh? Am I right?”

Tirek sneered in appreciation. The filly had perched on his shoulder; he didn’t seem to notice, or possibly care. The mare stood at the back of the room with a sour expression.

This was… delightful. Stallion, mare, centaur… they were all just a bit uncertain, evidenced by a slight hesitation in everything they did. None of them were sure how exactly they’d gotten into this situation, but going along with it was easier than stopping to try to figure it out. And the filly simply watched, and smiled.

“Nevertheless,” the stallion said, returning to his melancholy tone, “I still believe in a brighter future. That beyond these clouds, we will find a golden sun.” His voice rose in heroic optimism. “That tomorrow will be a brand new day!”

He paused for a long moment, eyes gleaming, then with a swift motion bit the cloth covering the table next to him and pulled it away, revealing an array of small bottles containing a disquietingly orange liquid, as well as a standing cardboard image of a large white pony with a flowing mane. “And what better way to start off a brand new day than with our new product line, Cestellia’s Sunshine Drinks! You too can get in on the cloud floor of this amazing new investment opportunity-“

”Celestia?!” Tirek thundered, cutting the stallion off. “So you are in league with the princesses! This was a trap all along!”

The stallion cowered. “No, no, Great Lord! I said Cestellia!” He very carefully enunciated the word. “I’ve never even met the Princesses, I swear!”

The centaur scowled suspiciously. “Then why would you invoke something so similar to her name and…” He peered at the cardboard pony. It was a caricature, and a greatly exaggerated one at that. “…a rough approximation of her image?” he finished grudgingly.

“Golly.” The stallion turned innocent eyes on Tirek. “I honestly didn’t see the resemblance. I sure hope ponies don’t give me their bits just because they assume Princess Celestia is somehow involved in the project.”

Tirek frowned down at him, then suddenly his eyebrows raised. “Oh… oh, I see!” He chuckled maliciously. “Clever.”

“It’s what I do,” he replied humbly. “This is actually going to be my first attempt to sell physical merchandise, which is a bit more of a long-term investment than I’m used to, but I’m quite excited about the opportunities it presents.”

“Hmm? And what did you sell before now?”

The answer was simple and matter-of-fact: “Dreams.”

Tirek clearly didn’t fully understand, but reached out one long arm and plucked up one of the orange bottles. It was tiny in his hand and the stopper had been designed to be opened by mouth, but the glass was thin and it didn’t take much effort to snap the top off. The liquid inside smelled of oranges in much the same way that pine-scented disinfectant smells of a mountainside evergreen forest, which is to say not at all without a copious application of imagination. “What is this?” the centaur demanded.

“Cestellia’s Sunshine Drinks.”

“Yes, but is it juice? A potion?”

“It’s… a drink. It doesn’t meet the legal definition of anything else. But there’s no law against selling it, and our quality inspector said the taste was refreshing and zestful! Isn’t that right, pumpkin?”

“Oh, golly, yes, father!” The only good part of that ordeal had been that it wasn’t oatmeal. It hadn't been a good taste, far from it, but at least it was different. “You should show him the advertising!”

“Capital idea!” He pushed the folded whiteboard on its rollers to the front of the presentation area, waited… then frowned, but only briefly before the façade covered it back up. “That’s your cue, pumpkin.”

“Gee, I’d love to,” she said with genuinely fabricated regret, “but I should probably stay up here with Lord Tirek! I’m the sacrifice and everything, remember? We don’t want him thinking I’m trying to escape, now do we?”

“Uh… yes,” he conceded. "I mean, no." He stared at the whiteboard for a long moment. He’d opened it exactly once before, and the results of that encounter had led directly to the duty being given to his daughter. “You know… perhaps the advertising isn’t strictly speaking necessary…”

“Oh, but it’s part of the entire experience!” the filly gushed. “You don’t want to deprive the Great Lord of his entertainment, do you?”

“Is there a problem?” the centaur growled. “I don’t have all day!”

“Oh, no, Great Lord,” replied the stallion slightly nervously. “It’s just that this thing can be a bit… finicky…”

“It’s a piece of wood! Get on with it!”

“Y-yes, Great Lord.” He approached the whiteboard, which sat innocently before him, obviously incapable of anything resembling intent, let alone malice. And yet...

But it was, as Tirek had pointed out, just a piece of wood! A thing made by ponies! His daughter opened it all the time without any problems. Surely he could do the same. The first time had to have been a fluke. Now that the filly had broken it in, it must be entirely safe. He told himself all this, and almost managed to believe it.

He gingerly reached one hoof toward the latch holding the four panels shut, as one might treat an armed mousetrap...

It was the springs, really. They were top of the line, perhaps too much so. Even after several moons of use, they were still more powerful than they strictly needed to be. It was a selling point, in fact; the board would snap open in the blink of an eye, a feature sure to wow all members of the audience! And the complaints about potential injuries were clearly overblown. It didn't take much practice at all to learn how to lean against the side of it in order to open the latch safely.

The stallion had never bothered to try.

With whip-like speed, the panels slammed open, striking the stallion and propelling him across the room at top speed. It was Tirek's damage to the mansion, ironically, that saved him from being hurt. The walls had already begun to lose cohesion, and instead of a jarring impact he passed completely through as though it had been made of thick gelatin, ending in an awkward heap on the other side. The panel itself, of course, had been all too solid, leaving him feeling distinctly bruised and slightly concussed, but all things considered, it could have been worse.

After a moment to collect himself, he climbed groggily back through the hole he'd made. "It's okay" he declared. "I'm all right!"

"Perhaps not for long..." Tirek responded with rising menace.

The stallion looked blearily up at the centaur, then at his wife, who had turned noticeably pale. He followed her gaze.

The whiteboard had indeed snapped open... and then (as the filly had known it would) it had snapped partly shut again, its central panels closed but its first and fourth panels open and visible. And displayed there was...

The message was to go on a billboard. There weren't many in Equestria, apart from major population centers like Manehattan, but the idea was catching on and they could be found along train tracks and intercity roads. They were cheap to make, but the land they were on wasn't free in the eyes of the Princesses, and so there was a small - but not too small - monthly fee involved.

But nopony, the stallion had reasoned, owned the sky.

Any pegasus could put together a free-floating cloud sign, and a bit of fixative and coloring would let it last for a few weeks, if the weather was good. And you could put them anywhere, not just along roads. Any pony looking upwards might see one, and become a potential customer on the spot. The letters were bright and bold to stand out against the white background - though the fixative helped there, increasing cloud density to make it a light gray - and set at a jaunty angle designed to catch the eye. While the stallion was new to pitching his ideas to the general public, he felt somewhat proud of it:

TIRED IN THE MORNINGS? DON'T WANT TO GO TO WORK? START YOUR DAY OFF RIGHT WITH CESTELLIA'S SUNSHINE DRINKS!

...or, at least, that was how it was supposed to look under normal circumstances (and how one particular listener understood it after whatever translation process in play had taken effect; who knew how it looked in the original Equstrian). The half-folded whiteboard meant it now read, completely coincidentally and against all reason:

TIREK? STINKS!

"Really."

"What?"

"It just happened to come out like that."

"It did! The angle of the writing kind of made the ends overlap."

"Hmph. That sounds incredibly contrived and over-complicated."

"Oh, whatever. It's not like I made it happen. I just knew it would."

At any rate, the new message was hilarious to a child, and these days would even garner considerable support from the general population. But it was not looking to be a popular message for the current audience.

The stallion gaped at the board, then at the centaur, whose glower had only deepened. "M-my deepest apologies, Great Lord!" he stammered. "This thing is-"

"And you were going to show that to ponies?" Tirek asked. "To entertain them?"

"No! I-I mean, yes, sort of, but..." He quickly and bravely risked another attempt at opening the whiteboard, which complied for once. "See, this is what it's supposed to say! I've come up with a whole new ingenious plan to cheaply and effectively spread word all across Equestria-"

"...that I 'stink'," the centaur concluded. final as a tomb.

"No, not at all! That was never my-"

"I think," his wife interrupted coldly, "that we should move on to something more pleasing to the Great Lord's eye. My sculptures, for instance. Each a masterpiece, and they never fail to please."

The centaur continued to glare at her husband, who was too terrified to move.

"Oh, I think that's a wonderful idea, mother!" the filly chirped. "Let's go see them, Lord Tirek! Mother makes the most beautiful sculptures! Don't worry about father and his silly old whiteboard. I mean, he's so far beneath you, how could he possibly insult you?"

The tension continued a moment longer... then Tirek, though clearly still tempted to escalate the situation, forced himself to relax. "Yes... I suppose you're right." He turned his glower upon the mare. "Lead on, then. And they had better be as good as you say."

Her nerve was stronger than her husband's, but she still trembled slightly under the pitch black gaze. "I assure you, Great Lord, you won't be disappointed."

"It's strange," Tirek said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I'm feeling ever so slightly disappointed right now."

The exhibit hall that housed the mare's sculptures was mostly no longer doing so. There had been a dozen pieces lining the walls, each in its own alcove and protected from view by a thin cloth (because presentation was vital to experience them properly). The destruction of the manor's upper floors had allowed a strong breeze to circulate through the room, enough to strip away the cloths and deal serious damage to the insufficiently treated sculpture within. Even to an untrained eye, they had clearly changed from "art" to "rubble".

The mare scowled at her poor luck, and instinctively sought someone to blame. But she could hardly point a hoof at the true cause of the damage, now could she? Not if she wanted to remain undrained.

Well, that was all right. There was always the usual scapegoat.

She turned her glare upon her daughter. "You useless-"

But the filly spoke more quickly, as though anticipating her words. "Oh, no, mother! All your beautiful sculptures! And even after I used extra fixative to keep them safe, just like you said!"

The mare experienced another historically rare bout of speechlessness. Had the filly just... lied? Blatantly? Where in the world had she learned that? No, it was obvious. Her husband was clearly a terrible influence on the child. But regardless, the mare had been cheated of her opportunity to vent, at least without her own deception being exposed. "..well," she managed, "you must have done it wrong."

"Gosh, I'm awfully sorry about that, mother!" said the filly, in what the mare considered to be a far too cheerful tone.

She glowered at her daughter a moment longer, then looked around. "Ah!" she said. "At least the true centerpiece for the evening hasn't been damaged!" She moved to the far end of the hall, where a heavy curtain hung suspended from a circular rail on a pole. "This," she added, "is the most important thing I've ever produced!"

The filly said nothing.

"Behold!" She drew back the curtain with a well-practiced flourish, revealing the vague curves of Tribute to the Ingenuity of Necessity.

Tirek frowned down at it. "...what is it?"

She smiled. She liked to let that kind of question develop. It made the reveal and subsequent realization all the more powerful. "I call it," dramatic pause, "my Tr-"

"It kinda looks like two alicorns beating up a centaur," the filly said thoughtfully.

The mare's eyes went wild. "What? No!"

"...you're right," he said, his frown deepening. "It does, doesn't it?"

"No, that's... my Tribute to..." But she knew it was no use. First impressions were vital to appreciating her work, and once an impression was in place, it took a long time to fade.

Her husband, who never really understood the intricacies of her art, hissed, "Why in the world did you make something like that?!"

"I didn't!" she protested. "It's just that she..." She looked up at the filly, who returned her gaze innocently.

Almost innocently. Was that a hint of a smirk?

But she couldn't worry about that this exact moment. Tirek was continuing to stare at the Tribute and becoming angrier by the second. "It's obviously nothing like that, Great Lord. You're just... looking at it in the wrong way."

"No, I don't think so," he rumbled. "I can just about see their cutie marks."

If she weren't becoming utterly terrified, she'd be proud that her work could suggest such intricate details while being little more than a cluster of lumps. "Simply a... a trick of the light. Let me just..." She cast about for a solution, then out of sheer panic flapped her wings strongly, sending a gust of wind at the Tribute. The filly had followed her directions to the letter, and there was barely enough fixative coating the sculpture to hold it together in a closed room. Now it tore apart in seconds, leaving clumps of slightly dense cloud falling to the floor. "Oops! How clumsy of me!"

Her husband gasped. "The sale price!"

"Better it than us!" she shot back, then looked upwards. "I apologize if my work was... less than pleasing, Great Lord."

He snorted and loomed over them. "I am increasingly starting to think that sparing you two was a mistake." Tirek glowered down at the pegasi. “Is there anything else you’d like to show me, or should I just flatten you both right now?”

They looked at each other for a moment, then the stallion lifted his head. “I admit, there have been some… humps and bumps, Great Lord, but I’m sure we can patch things up here.” Then he turned his gaze suspiciously upon the filly. “But do you mind if we have a quick word with our daughter first?”

“…very well. Though I doubt it will change much.”

He reached up and nudged the child off his shoulder, and she glided down to speak to the ponies that were, technically, her parents. “Yes, father?”

“Don’t you ‘yes, father’ me,” he growled quietly. “What exactly are you up to?”

“Golly! Whatever do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting strangely,” the mare said. “Ever since…” The she stopped.

The filly’s mask slipped, and her grin turned spiteful. “Ever since what, mother?”

Husband and wife remained silent. Not out of guilt, she knew, but purely from a lack of any response that wouldn’t sound foolish.

“Well, I think I’ve been acting perfectly normal!” she crowed. “Maybe for the first time ever! And haven’t we been having just a wonderful time with Lord Tirek?”

“You need to stop this,” the stallion insisted. “You need to be a good filly and do what you’re told!”

“Or what?” she demanded. “You’ve already decided to feed me to him! What more can you possibly do? And why shouldn’t I have a little fun before then?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” the mare hissed. “You ungrateful little-“

And then the filly made a beginner’s mistake. One could monologue and talk about their plans , but it was important to save it for a time when one’s enemies couldn’t do anything about it. But the mention of ‘gratitude’ had sparked fresh anger in her mind. “In fact, why don’t I tell Tirek how you called him a ‘horrible brute’? Or how you, father, just this morning said he was a red oaf! I bet he’d just love to hear that!” She smirked at them. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you two with me!”

They glared at her for long moments, then in a display of teamwork astounding in a pair of ponies who were so rarely even in the same room, they acted almost in unison, surging forward and taking the filly by surprise. The stallion reached her first, roughly grasping her foreleg between his teeth and with a quick motion throwing her to the ground. He then laid his hoof on her back, just enough to pin her down. “Lord Tirek!” she screamed. “They-!”

But the mare had scooped up a lump of disintegrating wall, formed it into a ball with her wingtips, and now thrust it into the filly’s mouth. Even degraded, it was still more solid than gaseous, with the thick consistency of wet clay. The filly tried to dislodge it, but her hooves were too clumsy and her wings couldn’t reach. “Seen, but not heard,” the mare snarled. “The first lesson we taught you!”

The filly scraped frantically at her mouth, glaring at the pegasi with sheer hatred.

“Is there a problem?” Tirek asked menacingly.

“Not at all, Great Lord,” the stallion replied. “We just thought you might like to enjoy your prize before we go on!”

“You’ll feel better after a little snack, I’m sure,” the mare agreed.

The centaur hesitated. “…well, perhaps you’re right. And that amount of magic is tempting…”

He advanced upon the filly – not that there was much distance to cross - even as the pegasi moved back to a respectful and safe distance. The filly finally managed to spit out the cloudstuff, but knew it was too late. Anything she said now would be seen as the act of desperation it was. And she couldn’t escape, not with her underdeveloped wings. But she had to do something!

She glanced back at the mare and stallion. Preferably, something that would hurt them.

The spark of an idea formed, and she quickly picked out the potential moves that would make it a reality. Yes. It was a long shot, a very long shot, but if nothing else, maybe she could get rid of that. But it would require surviving the next few seconds.

Tirek reached toward her, his mouth opening…

”I can show you more magic!” she shouted.

The massive centaur hesitated, distracted by the one thing that could tempt him. Just for a moment, but long enough to allow the filly to zip under his legs and into the hallway beyond. Behind her, she heard the stallion call, “Don’t worry, Great Lord! We won’t let her get away!”

Stallion and mare chased their daughter through the hallways of the ruined manor. But while neither of the adults were out of shape, the filly had the advantage of a daily routine that emphasized speed and endurance. She might not be able to outpace Tirek’s ridiculous leg length, not to mention his magic, but the filly could run rings around the pegasi, and did. She sped into and across the dining hall before darting into the kitchen.

“She’s trying to get out the back!” the mare shouted. “I’ll head her off!” She picked up speed and flew above the ceilingless room, eyes alert to spot the filly…

There she was. But instead of making a break out through the servant’s entrance, she was searching the various tools and such carried on the bottom tray of her little wheeled cart. As the mare began to dive toward her, the filly sped away from the cart with a somewhat familiar object held between her forehooves, heading into the manor, rather than away. She raced past the stallion too quickly for him to react, and husband and wife fell into pursuit once more.

It wasn’t a long chase. The filly’s journey ended at the foyer, with the sun’s setting rays refracting through the Prism and causing everything around it to be imbued with a soft golden glow. The mare landed in the entrance hallway, wings spread wide to prevent escape, while the stallion entered the room from the dining hall, breathing a bit heavily. The pegasi slowly walked toward their child, who stood trembling near the Prism’s pedestal. Behind the stallion, the giant centaur leaned his elbows on the top of the remnants of the staircases and watched the ensuing drama with malicious amusement.

“Give it up, child,” the mare said. “You can’t escape Lord Tirek, you must know that.”

The filly didn’t respond, standing on her hind legs with her back pressed against the pedestal, body shaking violently.

…no. Not her body, the mare slowly realized, but…

“What’s that she’s holding?” the stallion wondered. “Some kind of can…?”

…her forelegs were shaking something. Whatever she’d taken from her cart, presumably. And now that she got a better look at it…

The mare’s eyes went wide even as the filly paused and held up a canister of fixative spray. Its label was too small to read from her position, but she knew it had two warnings in very large letters. One was a caution against overshaking the can. As this warning had now been flagrantly ignored, the canister was now making sharp pinging noises. Every few second, it jerked in the filly’s grip. “W-what do you know?” she said with a nervous grin. “I wasn’t sure this would actually do something.”

“Put that down this instant, child,” the mare ordered, though not too loudly. “Very carefully.”

“What, and deny Lord Tirek his show?” The rate of metallic dings increased, cutting short the filly’s smirk. “But yeah, better end this now.”

And then she shot straight upward, spinning and twisting in the air but being careful to never let go of the can. She hovered at an elevation twice as high as Tirek was tall. She didn’t dare go higher, else risk the appearance of escape, which would break the spell. She just hoped this much would do.

“Mares and gentlestallions!” she called. “Centaurs of all ages! For my next trick…”

“DON’T!” the mare screamed, realizing her intention.

“…I’m going to make a big shiny rock disappear!”

And she threw the canister downward with all her might, which wasn’t much, but gravity lent a hoof.

And the other warning on the can’s label was common to most aerosol product, and warned against puncture or high impact.

The ground at the base of the pedestal was mostly solid, to support the pedestal and the precious item it held. It wasn’t completely solid, but it was enough. The canister burst with a shockingly loud boom.

What the filly expected was for the concussion to tip over either the pedestal or the Prism itself. The treasure was far too heavy to be supported by a cloud that wasn’t well reinforced; even the ground where the canister struck wouldn’t be strong enough. If it fell, the refractive glass would drop through the floor like a heated marble through warm butter.

The Prism, in fact, did not fall, and neither did the pedestal. As such. But there was a reason one didn’t make entire cloud buildings our of super-dense material, and what the filly didn’t expect was for the contents of the canister to be propelled outward in a vast, mostly colorless sphere from the point of impact.

And as the fixative drifted downward onto the floor, the cloudstuff began to grow darker and darker and darker.

Clouds don’t make noise when they tear apart, line wood or stone might, but there was a definite vibration in the ground, a harsh shudder as more and more dense clumps were seized by gravity. They didn’t rain, as the water content had not changed, but simply dropped. And it just kept happening.

The pegasi took to the air, watching aghast as a massive crater formed in the middle of what remained of their home.

Ultimately, it was indeed the pedestal that dropped first. And it took with it most of the floor. By the time the last clump fell toward the ground far below, there was a thirty hooflength wide hole where the foyer used to be.

They stared at it. Then they stared at the filly, who was a bit overwhelmed at the damage she’d caused. She managed a weak and tremulous smile. “…ta-daaaaa!”

They ignored her for now and landed at the edge of the hole, peering downward. A moment later the filly joined them out of grim curiosity. There were layers of cumulus and stratus below Cloudsdale, which was scheduled for a lofty altostratus this week. They could just barely see a glint which might have been the Prism, then it was gone, punching through the lower layers to oblivion.

Husband and wife slowly lifted their heads and looked at each other, each fighting past their grief. “…the insurance?” the mare asked. “Can we recoup any of it?”

The stallion shook his head, fighting back tears. “There’s a clause specifically against damage caused by members of the family. We’ll get nothing.”

“But… can’t we blame it on the caterers, like we originally planned?”

“They’ll check! Too many guests saw it tonight!”

Silence fell, as did their spirits… then the mare said, “We could… we could blame it on Tirek.”

Her husband brightened slightly. “That’s… a good idea. It’s a great idea! The whole house is destroyed, so we can definitely include it in the damages!”

“And it’s not like they’re going to ask him!” she added happily.

“The physical incarnation of a bull in a china shop?” he asked. “I should certainly think not!”

“Oh, that’s rather insulting to bulls, don’t you think?”

They laughed out of sheer relief and out of complete forgetfulness. Neither of these states lasted very long.

Ironically, it was the filly’s artificial magic reserves that saved her. As Tirek abruptly drained the three ponies, the stallion and mare fell to drab weariness within seconds, but her own magic lasted longer than Tirek’s patience. She flitted away from the hole even as they slumped to the ground.

And then a huge pair of hands reached down and grabbed them both, along with a sizeable chunk of dense cloudstuff that hadn’t quite managed to fall. He roughly clumped them into a ball, with their heads still visible. “It’s not that I disapprove of your deception,” he said, anger laced through every word as they blearily stared up at him, “but what I do resent is your utter lack of respect in even thinking of it. I should have known never to trust a pony.”

And, ignoring their feeble pleas, he held the ball over the hole. “Goodbye.”

For a long moment, there was no sound in the cavern except Cozy Glow’s attempts to unlock her cage. Then, with the strain of great effort, she continued: “…it could have ended right there.”

Spy said nothing.

“Tirek had gotten most of my magic. He probably wouldn’t have cared if I escaped at that point, and I had every reason in the world to walk away. I couldn’t possibly stop Tirek physically, so nobody would blame me for not trying. My parents couldn’t do anything to make me stay, and once he dropped them they’d never be able to do anything to me ever again. They had stolen my entire life from me, and now it was finally mine to take back.”

There was a loud snap as her efforts finally bore fruit. The padlock fell open, still dangling from the cage door. She stared at it, unseeing.

“I was free.”

“Stop!” the filly cried, the last shreds of her love for her parents driving her to attempt to pull Tirek’s arms away from the hole. It was like pulling at steel. “You can’t just drop them!”

He chuckled loudly. “Oh, I think I can!”

“You’ve got all our magic! That’s what you wanted, right? Just let them go!”

The centaur peered at her. “Oh, come now. This has to be cathartic. They were willing to sacrifice you!”

“I know,” she said miserably. “But I just wanted to get away from them! That doesn’t mean I wanted them d-dead!”

“Well, I do.” He began to pull his hands apart.

“No, please! I’m begging you!”

And, miraculously… Tirek stopped. He leaned forward to take a good look at the filly, his head tilting to the side curiously. Twin blazes of yellow floating in pitch blackness regarded her for what felt like an eternity… then, most disturbingly, his mouth stretched into a toothy grin, and he began to laugh.

He could gobble me up in one bite, the filly thought. It wasn’t a particularly helpful thought, but it was all she could manage at the moment.

“Very well,” he said finally, and leaned back. “Let’s make a deal, little filly.”

“A… a deal?”

“That’s right. If you can honestly tell me that you think your parents deserve to be spared… then I’ll let them go.”

Hope dawned. “Really?”

He nodded. “You have my word.”

“Then-“

“But first,” he interrupted with malicious glee, “I want you to talk to them.”

“…what?”

“Talk to them. Look them in the eye. Remember what they tried to do to you. See them for what they are. And then tell me they’re worthy of my mercy.”

She stared at him, then at them. Despite everything they’d done, she knew deep in her heart that ending their lives wouldn’t accomplish anything. But there were new feelings, deeper even than that, that were willing to give it a shot. She pushed them down for now and looked up at the centaur. “…why?”

Tirek chuckled. “Because either I am rid of them, or they will have to live the rest of their miserable lives tormented by the knowledge that they were spared by the grace of the child they were eager to sacrifice for their own gain. I rather like that idea.” He turned over one hand and placed the ball in his palm. The pegasi became very still, for fear of rolling out of his grasp. “Or I can just drop them now, if you prefer.”

“N-no!” She swallowed nervously and approached them. They looked so pitiful now, their colors washed out and their hides sullied by cloudstuff and fixative. Their gazes toward her were desperate and pleading, but she remembered all the condescending glares and fake smiles. They couldn’t be trusted, even now.

Let them drop, a little voice crooned. She pushed down harder.

She stared at the pegasi, trying to find the words to describe how she was feeling at the moment...

"Come on, pumpkin, just tell the nice centaur to let us go, and this will all be over..."

"Yes, hurry up, child! Before his arm gets tired!"

...but then, they'd never cared about what she had to say, now had they?

The filly scowled. Wheedling and commanding, just like always. "Shut up! Both of you! Let me think!"

They gasped. "How dare you use that tone-" the mare began

She was starting to realize how truly stupid they were. "I said shut up! Or I'll tell him to drop you right now!" They finally fell silent, and she glared. "Honestly! You two just don't know how to give an inch, do you? I'm calling the shots now, not you!"

They returned her glare, as well as they could.

She let them think about that for a long moment. "...all this time," she said finally, "I never mattered to you, did I? I was just something to save you money, because that's all you ever cared about."

And then came the pleading and negotiations. "We can change! We'll do better from now on!"

"We'll give you everything you want, pumpkin! Fewer chores! More..." He faltered. "Uh... more time at the park! More..."

"Oatmeal!" his wife added.

"Yes! All the oatmeal you want!"

"Well. Within reason."

"Oh, right, obviously."

"And not too much syrup."

"Of course."

She stared at them. "Really? Oatmeal? That's the best you can do?" She shook her head. "You honestly don't know the first thing about me, do you? Do you even know what I do in the park?"

The stallion blinked, confronted with an issue he had never considered. "I mean... frolic? I guess?"

"Hah! See? When's my birthday?"

"Oh, I'm... sure it must be coming up soon," the mare said, "we'll have to make sure you get-"

"It was last week! Oh my gosh! You two really don't know anything about me, do you?! I bet you don't even know-"

She stopped, her mind turning over the idea. No... no, they couldn't possibly be that disinterested in her... right? Surely not. Not to that degree. And yet... now that she thought about it... she couldn't recall a single time they'd said it. They must have done so at least once, but how many years had it been since then?

The filly floated closer to them, looked them in the eyes, remembered what they did, saw them for what they were. "...what's my name?"

Their mouths dropped open.

"W-what kind of question is that?" the stallion asked nervously. "Of course we know your name!"

"Say it, then."

Silence was her only response.

"All I can ever remember hearing from you two has been 'pumpkin' or 'child' or 'girl'. You gave me this name! I hate it, but you gave it to me! Do you even remember what it is?! Do I really matter that little to you?!" She pointed at the gaping hole beneath them. "You never forgot that rock's name! What about me, your daughter?! Am I worth less than an object to you? WHAT IS MY NAME?!"

They shouted, then, babbling their best guesses. None of it ever came close.

All of the filly's control over her darker feelings burned away. "I thought so." She landed in the entrance hall, turned, and walked toward the setting sun.

Then she paused briefly and said "Drop them."

When a foal is named, what is given is often the hopes of the parents, what they wish their child will become in the future. In the filly's case, it was more what her parents wanted her to be for them, though they gave it practically no thought or consideration when they did.

Golden Ticket died that day, even as her parents fell screaming to the ground thousands of feet below amid Tirek's laughter. She'd need a new name, but that could wait. She just needed to get away from here, from the ruins of the home that had never been a home.

There was a light, and a tingling sensation on her flanks. She turned her head, and wasn't much surprised to see a rook appear there. She thought of the game she'd played just two or three hours ago, back when she didn't know anything at all. The rook was the unexpected move, a symbol of her ability to predict, to plan, to manipulate, to win.

To betray.

Her parents were dead. Her home was gone. Her life was ruined.

And all she cared about at the moment was getting some new ribbons, for when her hair grew back.

SNAP!

The padlock closed with a loud noise, much more solid and final than when it had opened. Cozy Glow pulled out the key, held it in her mouth... then with a flip of her head, sent it sailing into the chasm surrounding the plateau, never to be seen again.

Spy watched her, speechless.

She turned away from him, staring at the distant cavern wall. "...you were right about one thing, Spy," she said finally. "I'm not a villain. I'm a monster. I'm a heartless, empty creature who couldn't even feel even the slightest regret for killing her own parents. And I still don't! Do you think I deserve friendship? Do I deserve redemption?! What I deserve is to be in here safely away from everypony else!"

She sniffled and rubbed at her face, then turned toward him, her expression fierce. "But the world decided my fate for me. And if I was supposed to be a monster, I'd be the best monster I could be. I was going to take back all of the opportunities in the world that my parents had taken from me.

"But the powers that defeated Tirek at his best wouldn't have any trouble with me. So I wrote him a letter, reminded him of all the fun times we'd had, and he told me how to make sure nopony could ever get in my way again. And it almost worked! But it didn't, and I knew the Princesses would never let me try again. So I needed to be put in the place where the monsters belong."

Then her expression softened. "And then you came along. And I thought maybe monsters sometimes got a second chance. You're a bit of a monster yourself." She frowned. "But you had to ruin it. You're just like everypony else. You just don't understand."

"Miss Glow..."

She turned away again. "Good night, Spy. I hope Twilight can get you back home."

Cozy Glow refused to respond to anything else he said, so he settled down and thought very hard for the next few hours.

And just below, unnoticed, a set of slow but angry hoofsteps descended from the top of the stairway, heading for the entrance.

Gentlemen, synchronize your Friendship Watches.

Professional assassins sleep lightly. At least, the ones that remain professional assassins for very long do; the other kind don’t live long enough to get business cards made. Between the vengeful relations of former (very former) targets, those that said relations had hired, those sent out by the rich and powerful to remove potential dangers before they had a chance to pose a threat, and the occasional eager young hotshot looking to become the new “Fastest Garotte in the West”, there was no telling when someone would appear to end a contract killer’s career in a most definite way. And, as such dangers rarely kept normal business hours, the dark of the night was a popular time to make their attempts. So the assassin quickly developed the lightest of slumbers, as well as an uncanny sense of when there was another presence in their room, if they wanted to regularly see another morning.

Tirek had none of these instincts, and a millennium of solitude had left his sleeping habits completely unattuned to other creature. He snored, loudly, sunk deep in Spy’s ridiculously comfortable mattress.

The door opened. The door closed.

Something crept toward him, low across the floor. He snored on, oblivious. It raised up slightly and regarded him for a long moment, then reached out.

The feel of cold, unnatural material on his forehead brought Tirek out of his sleep. He reflexively tried to twitch away, but his head was held fast. He frantically swiveled his eyes to take stock of his attacker and…

Pyro was looming over him. No expression could be seen behind the mask as gloved hands closed around Tirek’s borrowed skull… and squeezed…

It wasn’t that he was paralyzed by fear. Certainly not. He was just… evaluating the situation.

But just as he realized the attack wasn’t actually painful, the grip lessened slightly, was repositioned, and then the careful pressure was applied once more. This went on for a few minutes, the Pyro probing at Tirek’s head, until a satisfied “Hrr” was emitted. The shapeless figure sunk back down, patting him gently on the head before dropping out of view. A moment later the door opened and closed.

Tirek stared straight ahead, waiting for his heart rate to return to a survivable level.

Some time later, after a hot shower (which itself came after judiciously moving a bookcase in front of the door; there had been entirely too many intrusions for comfort lately), Tirek stepped into the hallway, refreshed and properly dressed. All right, he thought, that was… odd, but harmless. Nothing’s changed. I just have to wait for these apes to find the rift for me, and I’ll have all the magic I’ll ever need. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.

Which, of course, was the exact moment when he got punched in the face.

It was a powerful right cross to the chin, and it spun him around once before he collided heavily with the wall. Stars danced in front of his eyes and his mouth was suddenly filled with an assortment of tiny objects, the contents of Spy’s dental compartments having been knocked loose. He fell to the floor, staring up at the beefy form of…

“Hello, Spy!” said a cheerful voice from beneath a large helmet.

“Shoulja?” Tirek spit out a very small lockpick, a very small revolver, a full set of very small silverware plus tea service, and a very small (but curiously strong) breath mint. He felt hurt and betrayed. Mostly hurt. “Why did you-“

“Engie told me you were a wizard now!” Soldier explained loudly. “So I decided to invite you to every wizard’s favorite game: Punch Tag!”

Tirek sat up with some difficulty. “You monkeys do this for fun?!”

“Well, sure! Merasmus loves it! He’s always all ‘How dare!’ and ‘Begone, you fool!’ and ‘Stop hitting me!’ He’s a real sportsmage!”

“That sounds more like-“

But Soldier wasn’t listening. He was scribbling in a small notebook with a stubby pencil. “Let’s see, that was a Jaw-Rattler with a three-quarter twist…” He produced a metal tube and pressed a button on its side; bright light sprang from one end, which Soldier directed at Tirek’s face. The centaur flinched and raised his hand to shield his eyes. “…probably not a full concussion, though,” the human said, a bit disappointed. “Still, that’s a good fifteen points! Not bad for your first round!” He pointed at his own chin. “C’mon, your turn!”

Tirek regarded Soldier’s massive biceps, then his own. Spy’s physique was technically better toned than the centaur’s… but only when compared to his feeble, magicless form. Striking the Soldier would be like punching a wall. Which would then hit him back. “I… concede,” he said sourly.

“Hah! That’s another win to me! Forty-seven and oh!” He strode down the hallway. “See you later, buddy!”

Tirek lay there rubbing his jaw for a while, trying to close the dental compartments with his tongue. So apparently word of his true identity had spread, though it seemed that Soldier hadn’t quite understood the situation. Which was odd; he had seemed so sensible and reliable before.

Wretched monkeys! Why couldn’t everycreature just show him the respect and fealty he deserved? It would make things so much easier!

“You all right, mate?”

He looked up to find Sniper and Demoman standing over him. They were pushing carts loaded with various boxes and bottles. “I’m fine.” He managed to keep the growl out of his voice.

The lanky human grunted, then extended a hand. “Come on, then,” he said in his Horstralian accent. “We’re headin’ out in twenty, and yer blockin’ the corridor.”

Tirek took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Yes, well, have fun with that.”

But Sniper did not relax his grip, and merely smiled thinly at the former centaur. “That’s ‘we’ meanin’ all of us, mate. You included.”

His eyes widened. “Me?! You want me to accompany you back into that literal warzone?”

“Well, ‘want’ is a strong word…”

“We cannae have anythin’ happenin’ to ye, lad,” Demoman explained. His rolling tones would have marked him as a Shetland native back in Equestria. “Or, at least, to Spy’s body.”

“He’s got lots of enemies, see,” Sniper said, “and you’re defenseless as a wallaby joey. If one of Spy’s ‘associates’ shows up lookin’ for his head, it’s good night Irene.”

Tirek glared at them, feeling rather pummeled by regional dialects. “They told you about me as well, I take it.”

“Too right.” Sniper looked at his cart, chose a heavy box of ammunition that was overhanging the edge precariously, and pushed it into Tirek’s hands. “Now make yourself useful and come along.”

With a scowl and a slight wobble, Tirek filed in behind the mercenaries. “Ach, don’t be so down about it, lad,” Demoman said. “We ain’t gonna make ye fight. No point. You can stay in the supply room where it’s safe.”

He brightened up slightly. “Oh.”

The explosives expert stared into the middle distance thoughtfully. “Might have ta blow your legs off, though.”

“…what?!”

“Don’t want ye runnin’ off, now do we? Medic can fix you up a treat afterwards.”

Sniper waved this away. “Nah, can’t have him bleedin’ out. We’ll just hogtie ‘im and leave him in the van.”

“With a bomb taped to his nadgers?”

“I suppose. Just in case.”

Tirek wasn’t sure what nadgers were, but he felt a change of subject was desperately in order. “Soldier mentioned a ‘Merasmus’, I think it was. So there are other wizards here?”

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. “Oh. Yeah. Him.”

“Skinflint bastard,” Demoman growled.

“Not fans of his, then?”

Sniper grunted. “Tries to kill us every so often. Poorly. We return the favor, o’course, but he’s functionally immortal or somethin’. Mainly just a nuisance, as long as you don’t loan him any money. He ain’t good for it.”

“We got history, him and me,” said Demoman, his single eye flashing. “Ach, but fate is both cruel and kind, an’ I suppose bein’ Soldier’s roommate for a time is punishment enough.”

Tirek frowned as he followed along. So much for that idea, then. He’s been hoping he could find a fellow mage to assist him – or, at the very least, that he could dupe into stoogedom, as he had Discord – but this Merasmus sounded singularly useless. That was unfortunate; it was likely that magic worked differently here than it did in Equestria, and until he obtained a supply of what he was used to, he’d be limited in what he could do. Learning how it behaved here would take months of trial and error, perhaps years…

“Don’t see what the big deal is with wizards, anyway,” Sniper said offhandedly. “Magic’s dead easy.”

“Hah, yeah!” The Demoman raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Caputus crepitus!” Then he made a kind of whooshing noise with his mouth and performed a gesture that rather effectively implied a number of targets running around on fire.

Tirek rolled his eyes. “Don’t be childish. Magic is so much more complicated than that. It takes far more than a few silly words to-“

“Nah, mate.” Sniper produced a rather ragged tome and tossed it on top of the box Tirek was carrying. “We picked these up some time back, sendin’ a couple of old codgers to the fiery pits. Only works in certain circumstances, mind, mostly of the spooky variety. But it does the job.”

The book had fallen open, and Tirek stared at the page thus revealed. The ancient and oddly angled writing was nonsense to his eyes, but not complete nonsense. He felt he could almost comprehend parts of it, like a poem being recited through a mouth not quite entirely full of marshmallows. There were images as well, arcane symbols that were on the very cusp of recognizable.

This was it. This would be his Reinsetta Stone, so to speak.

“Could I borrow this?” he asked, endeavoring to sound as meek and harmless as he could. “I… might be able to use it to find the rift.”

Sniper gave him a brief evaluating stare over his shoulder, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Not much use until October rolls around. Just don’t even think about-“

“Yes, yes, dead where I stand, I get the point,” Tirek said testily. “Engineer made it quite clear how thin the ice I’m standing on is. You lot think violence solves everything, don’t you?”

“Well, you know what they say, mate. Every problem looks like a nail when you can put a hammer through its skull from half a click away.”

“I’m… not familiar with that particular phrase, actually.”

“Really? Huh. Must be a regional thing.”

By the time they reached the battleground, Tirek had managed to cobble together a crude understanding of how to weave this world’s magical energy. And crude it was; he would basically have to bully the magic into doing anything. There was no room for finesse, all parts of any noteworthy spell fighting against each other unless you did it just right. Much as he despised the innate Harmony of Equestrian magic, it did make things easier in that regard.

Well, that was all right. He knew how to bully.

Reading in a moving vehicle was not something he was used to, however, and it had left him a bit queasy. There would be some time before hostilities began, so instead of taking his position in the supply room, he stepped outside to get some air, and survey the terrain.

‘Badwater Basin’, the mercenaries called it. The area outside the supply room was a pit of sorts, layers of red and gray concrete surrounding a central depression. At the center of it lay a circular hole in the ground, covered by glass. Leading to the circle was a set of tracks, though smaller than he would have expected. There was nothing at the end of the tracks to stop anything on them from continuing on, likely falling into the hole.

“It’s… a facility for destroying very small trains?” he guessed aloud.

“Toxic waste storage,” Engineer said from behind him, dropping a red metal box outside the supply room door. It began to automatically unfold itself in an unnerving fashion. “Tracks are for haulin’ it in and lowerin’ it. But carefully, since it’s volatile as hell. There’s basically a few thousand gallons of high explosives down there.”

Tirek turned and gave him a look. “I feel like I already know the answer, but is that safe?”

“’Safe’ is kind of a nebulous concept,” the human replied with a careless wave. “I solve practical problems.”

“Such as?”

“Suh as how to stop a bunch of blue-suited bastards from rollin’ a bomb down those tracks and into the vault, blowin’ the whole kit’n’caboodle sky high.”

Tirek deciphered this as best he could, regarded the glass circle for a moment, then turned to look at the door to the supply room, less than a hundred hooflengths away. “If you don’t, will I be-“ He stopped himself. “Never mind. I get it.”

Engineer grinned at him. “Still want to stay in this world?”

“I wager I’ll have a better time once I get far away from you lunatics.”

“Fair enough.” The box finished unfolding, revealing it to be a device the Engineer had called a teleporter. Tirek had tried it once, and didn’t like it. He knew it was irrational, that unicorns teleport all the time, but that was with good, sensible magic. Using this “technology” nonsense made his skin crawl. “And don’t you worry,” he added, picking up another box and walking away from the supply room. “With any luck, we’ll stop ‘em long before they get that far.”

Tirek grunted and leaned against a railing for a moment… until there was a sudden metallic clang and an expulsion of breath. He turned to see Engineer on the ground, the toolbox fallen nearby. The human scowled in confusion. “What the…”

Tirek followed his gaze to some kind of hinged metal panel. “That’s a wall,” he said helpfully.

“That’s a door,” Engineer corrected, standing up. “Shoulda opened automatically.”

“Malfunctioning?”

The device was duly inspected. “…don’t look like it,” he decided. “Security bolt’s in place. It’s locked. But that don’t make no sense, unless…” He stepped away from the door and looked out over the pit. He spied a reedy figure with its arms spread wide as it walked along a railing. “Scout!” he called. “Door’s locked! Go check it out!”

“On it!” Scout hopped to the ground and raced off, following the tracks up the ramp before vanishing around a corner.

“Is there a problem?” Tirek asked.

Engineer rubbed his chin. “Maybe. The only times I’ve seen this door locked is when BLU’s got their payload halfway down the track and managed to bypass our security protocols.” He looked up at a set of strangely-shaped devices on the wall. “But we ain’t even started yet, and the Administrator usually lets us know when things are goin’ that bad.”

Tirek had noticed the devices at previous battlegrounds. The voice of the dragon woman had emitted from them, quite loudly. “I don’t really understand how you can have scheduled battles in the first place, but perhaps they got here before you?”

The human looked troubled. “Ain’t never happened before, but…” He lifted his toolbox to his shoulder and started down the nearby stairs. “Maybe you oughta take cover, just in case.”

Tirek nodded, but before either of them could get very far, Scout reappeared and ran up to them. “Nothin’,” he announced. “Everything’s clear all the way to the other end. Didn’t see or hear nobody inside their base, neither.”

Engineer pushed back his hard hat and scratched at his temple. “Well, that don’t make no sense. What about the payload?”

“That’s just it. They ain’t even pushed it out yet.”

Several of the other mercenaries had gravitated toward the conversation. “Is problem?” the Heavy rumbled.

“Not sure,” Engineer said. “Looks like the BLUs ain’t shown up yet.”

To Tirek’s mild surprise, the prospect of not having to engage in a life-or-death battle did not improve their mood. “They are cowards!” Heavy announced angrily. “Cowards with little baby hands!”

“What the bloody hell are we doin’ here then, mate?”

“Aye, we don’t get paid for not blowin’ people up!”

“Zat could be a viable alternative business model,” Medic pointed out.

“Nah, turns out it counts as extortion. No future in it. No benefits or retirement plan.”

Engineer held up his hands to calm them. “Look, our schedule got changed late last night. The Administrator wouldn’t have done that for no reason. Let’s just give it an hour or so and see what happens. Just… keep your eyes peeled.” He looked at them all, then frowned slightly. “Where’s Pyro?”

Scout cocked a thumb over his shoulder toward the pit. “Down there, in the corner. Messin’ with some paper or somethin’.”

“Huh.” Sure enough, the bulky figure was squatting on the ground, arms working industriously and body language suggesting intense concentration. An occasional flash of brightly colored material could occasionally be seen. “…well, nothin’ else flammable around there. Should be fine.”

The mercenaries dispersed, and Tirek was left leaning against the railing once more. Fantastic. More delays. May as well get some practice in…

He held out his right hand and concentrated. “Ignus digitalis,” he whispered. He flexed certain mental pathways as he’d done a thousand times before, willing every scrap of magic this body possessed into the spell.

For long moments, nothing happened. Then a few tiny sparks of light rose up from his fingers, vanishing in an instant.

Well, that was still better than he’d hoped. But honestly, spoken casting? For such an insignificant cantrip of a spell? What was he, a foal? This place would have him inscribing magic circles with chalk next. It was amazing these creatures had managed to survive so long, working with such natural limitations. Of course, they’d apparently compensated in other ways, ways that kept inexplicably putting his life in danger. Given all the possible dimensions he might have found himself stranded in, it was just his luck that it was this one...

Then the wind shifted, and his hand blossomed into a rising cascade of green motes of light.

He stared at it for several seconds, then moved it around a little. The motes grew more numerous closer to the ground, fewer as he raised his hand up.

Tirek dismissed the spell and shook his arm, scattering the remaining motes. He looked out at the pit, where a fresh breeze was carrying with it something quite familiar.

He descended the nearby stairway, then closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. Yes… this body lacked the thaumic receptors of his own, but there was definitely a… not a smell, not a taste, not even a feeling per se, but a sensation of magic in the air. He stepped forward, every fiber of his being reaching out to find the source.

One by one the mercenaries noticed his odd behavior, and converged on his position as he moved. Tirek was drawn across the concrete, and ended up, as he’d suspected, at the glass-covered hole in the ground.

They peered down into it, and for long moments there was no sound. Then Pyro broke the silence by emitting a rough approximation of what they were all thinking: “Hrr.”

Below the glass cover, barrels had been stacked into a haphazard pile, green and slightly glowing. And a short distance away, something else was glowing, in a strange yellow and pink light that seemed oddly out of place. It was hard to look at directly.

“Very interesting…” Medic murmured, peering closer.

“Aw, man, I knew it!” Scout exclaimed. “I toldja this would happen! You leave this much radioactive crap alone long enough, it starts turnin’ into slime monsters! I seen it in a movie. Pretty soon it’s gonna climb up and start eatin’ everyone’ faces!” He prodded the glass with his bat. “This is gonna be so cool.”

“That’s not like any slime monster I’ve ever seen!” countered Soldier. “And I’ve seen my fair share. They usually have more…” He waved a hand vaguely, looking for the word he wanted. “…slime! Besides, radiation is good for you!”

“Hey, I ain’t knockin’ radiation, but that stuff down there, y’know, smells funny. Like stale corn chips and… phenomenons.”

“That is the smell of corporate freedom, maggot! That is the smell of AMERICA!”

“And grape juice.”

“You all right there, mate?” Sniper asked, looking at Tirek.

The former centaur was standing with his arms splayed out and his eyes closed, and was taking in deep breaths of air. “It’s here.”

“What’s here?”

“Can’t you feel it?” He laughed. “No, of course you can’t. Hardly a thaumosensitive nerve in your bodies, you poor benighted things. Even I can barely tell in this wretched body.” He opened his eyes and stared hungrily down at the light. “It’s magic. And a good amount of magic at that!”

Engineer looked at him sharply. “Then that’s…?”

Tirek nodded. “It’s the rift! I’m sure of it!”

The human considered the light through his goggles for a long moment, then slowly lifted his head to the loudspeakers perched on the wall. Medic followed his gaze and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is hardly unusual zat she is a few steps ahead of us,” he noted.

“Yeah, but… coulda said something instead of leavin’ us guessin’, is all. We ain’t her puppets to be danced around.”

“I suspect she has a different opinion on that score,” the doctor replied dryly. He laid a comforting hand on Engineer’s shoulder. “Come, my friend. Let us not put ze horse in our mouths, ja? It is here, und so are ve.”

“Hmph. S’pose so. Best make the most of it.”

For his part, Tirek was on his knees, scrabbling at the glass cover (it was actually plexiglass, but Tirek didn’t know and wouldn’t care if he did). There was a seam down the middle of the cover, but it was closed too tightly to pry open. “I have to get down there,” he growled. “There must be a way…”

The largest mercenary gestured toward a corner of the pit. “Heavy thinks there is-“

“Silence, oaf! I must concentrate!”

Heavy didn’t quite glower at the former centaur. He just gave a little nod, as of a decision being made. Tirek entirely failed to notice it.

“This would be foal’s play in my own body,” he muttered. He seemed to remember Sniper’s tome, which he’d laid down next to him. Picking it up, he leafed through it hurriedly. “I think there was… yes, yes! Here it is!” He stretched out a hand, and faint light began to coalesce around it. “Latchus exbarium!”

The light flowed weakly downwards and poured into the cover, which rattled for about two seconds before falling still.

“Bah! Not quite right. Obstaculos liberato!”

Three seconds, but still completely failing to produce useful results.

The mercenaries watched as he stomped out onto the cover, continuing his attempts. Finally Engineer shook his head. “C’mon, fellas, may as well go have a look at that thing ourselves.”

They followed him to a nearby door which led to an access stairway. Heavy was (as was usually the case) the last in line, and before entering turned to give Tirek another look. The former centaur was shouting now, at his wits’ end. “Ingretio revicus! Ocknay ocknay! Openzio sesamico! Blast it all! Aperturum triumphus!”

Heavy pressed a button on the wall just inside the stairwell. Klaxons blared and lights flashed, and the cover began to open, its two halves sliding apart. Tirek raised a fist in victory. ”Yes!” Then he realized, at a point where it was too late to do anything about it, that he had one foot on each half. “…no!” There was a brief pinwheeling of arms as his legs went in opposite directions, and then he dropped into the green and fetid abyss with a shriek. There was a clatter of flesh and bone on steel drums, followed by a heartfelt groan.

With a very small smile, Heavy trudged downward.

“…und while I can easily repair ze broken bones und contusions und residual radioactive exposure,” Medic said, the red glow from his medigun contrasting with the other light sources in the room, “I am afraid only time can heal your dignity.”

Tirek glared at him as he stood up. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Although,” the doctor continued, “I have been considering a rather… controversial procedure to try out, if you’d like to-“

But he wasn’t listening, his whole attention locked onto the shining ball of pastel light before him. The mercenaries joined him, again somewhat at a loss for words. Scout broke the silence. “So, this is what a, a rift looks like?”

Tirek nodded, his entire borrowed body tingling in anticipation.

“If this is a rift,” Sniper interjected, “then why ain’t there stuff goin’ through it? It’s just sittin’ there.” He reached out toward it, but a large pink spark leapt between the rift and his finger, and he pulled it back with an oath.

“It’s the resobaric pressure,” Tirek explained absently. “The natural laws of our dimensions are so different, even contradictory, that any breach between them is sealed nearly shut by the force of both worlds trying to encroach on each other. The walls of reality itself clench around it, like a… a…”

“Sphincter!” Medic suggested helpfully.

“…I suppose.”

The mercenaries fell silent once more, processing this information. “…then this,” Scout said finally, “is a Butthole Between Worlds.” Tirek rolled his eyes and tried to focus again, but Scout was not to be denied such a rich opportunity. “And you got here by… climbin’ right into that Butthole. Just crammed yourself through.”

“No, fool! With the magic I had available, I could only force it open the slightest amount. That’s why my body was left behind and I was forced to mentally trade places with your colleague.”

Scout nodded sagely. “Riiiight. Only really small things could get through.”

“Precisely.”

“Like your brain.” The others had kept their composure up to now, but this comment caused a definite rash of snickering.

Tirek growled. “My mind. Because a mind isn't a physical-”

“Just… shoved your brain as deep into that Butthole as you could.”

“Stop calling it that!”

Engineer stifled another chuckle. “All right, all right. You got your rift, Tirek. Can ya get us Spy now?”

He sneered. “Simplicity itself.” And then, I’ll show these cretins who they’ve been dealing with…

He spread his arms and with an effort of will called up a circle of glowing blue energy around him. Mystic runes blossomed along its circumference and energy coalesced in his palms. With a powerful gesture, he reached for the rift and pulled it wide, leaving a pulsating gateway to Equestria.

…or, at least, that was what he intended to happen.

Nothing actually changed within the sight of mortal man or centaur. As far as the mercenaries could tell, Tirek wiggled his arms for a while and then stopped. "Is, uh... is that it, lad?" Demoman asked cautiously.

Tirek looked down at his hands, then at the rift. "Uh... just warming up." He repeated the gestures, more slowly this time and with a certain amount of muttering. The results were equally significant, which is to say not at all.

Scout never let an idea go once it started rolling. "C'mon, just stick your finger into that Butthole and-" Heavy laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. The smaller man scowled but relented.

"I take it there's a problem?" Engineer said.

"...there shouldn't be," Tirek replied, staring at the rift. "It should be working! I've been planning this out in my head for moons! The glow you see is the magic left behind the last time it was closed." He whispered two words, and his hand blossomed into green motes. "I was able to open it from the other side, however slightly, with mere scraps of magic. There's more than enough here to open it even wider! So why isn't it happening?!"

"Can't help ya there. Sorry."

Tirek attempted his spell twice more, then took a step back, clutching at his head in frustration. "This is maddening! I'm so close!"

The mercenaries exchanged glances, at a loss. Then one of them stepped forward and tapped his arm. Tirek whirled around with a snarl. "What?!"

Pyro stood there, expressionless as ever but with body language that radiated concern. Rubber gloves held out a brightly wrapped box tied with a ribbon.

"Oh. Is that for me?" Tirek asked, the very picture of insincere appreciation. Pyro grunted and nodded, only to have the package slapped to the floor. "Get that away from me, you simpleton!"

The mercenaries watched as Pyro retrieved the package. Their reaction wasn't overly emotional, but it was there nonetheless, painted in subtle shades. "Pyro was just trying to mend fences, fella," Engineer said quietly. "No need to take it out on-"

"Be silent!" Tirek raged, slamming his fist down on a barrel. Amid the echoing metallic noise it made, the contents let out a concerning blorp and fizzed for several seconds before subsiding. The mercenaries took an involuntary step back.

Tirek gauged their reaction, then looked at the barrels again, a feeling of dread rising within him. "What... what did you say was in these, again?"

"Ehn, all sorts of gross crap," Scout said. "Toxic waste, chemicals, radioactive goo..."

"Yes, this... radiation, you called it," he persisted. "What is it?"

"Well, to put it simply," Engineer said, "it's the natural process of atomic decay you get from certain minerals. They break down into a different element, and give off energy that can be absorbed by surrounding objects. This energy is dangerous to living things, but the Medic can set us right."

"That is a Commie lie!" Soldier announced. "Radiation builds a better future for everyone! It's called a nuclear family for a reason!"

"...infectious energy that can be..." He stopped, and looked at the rift. If he watched closely, the pink and yellow light was, very fainly, shot through with streaks of green.

He regaded at his right hand, still glowing, then raised his left and concentrated. Nothing happened. "...no... it can't be..."

"What is it?"

"The Equestrian magic... it must have undergone resonant tempering, conforming to the local field. That normally takes centuries, but your 'radiation' has contaminated it and sped up the process! It doesn't follow the laws of its home dimension anymore! It's part of this world now!"

The mercenaries looked at each other. "Sounds like a bunch of made up guff," Sniper opined. "Okay, the magic's gone native. So what's the problem?"

"The problem is I can't work it using my own spells! I'm going to have to learn this world's magical laws first, and well enough to perform an interdimensional working! That could take decades!"

Demoman stepped forward and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. "That ain't good enough, laddie. We want Spy back right now!"

Tirek slapped his hand away angrily. "Do you think I don't want to oblige?! I don't like this situation any more than you do!"

The human snatched the tome from the ground and pushed it into Tirek's arms. "Then you'd best get on it. You say decades? You got ten minutes."

"You're being very unreasonable," the former centaur shot back. With a frown, he contemplated the rift once more, then flipped through the tome a few times. On the bright side, the initial spell had been necessarily simplified so that the pegasus filly could use it without the benefit of a unicorn's horn. And the dimensional tunnel was still there, so opening it would be even easier than establishing it in the first place. There would be a lot of corners to cut, possibly some unforeseen consequences, but they would be better dealt with after he had his body back. It was a slim chance, but better than nothing.

He sighed and threw the last of his dignity out the window. "...does anyone have any chalk?"

A strange sound came down through the open cover above them, a sort of blaring noise like a sick goose. Tirek didn't recognize it, but the mercenaries all craned their heads upward. "Who is that?" Heavy asked.

"I'll go check!" Soldier aimed his rocket launcher downwards.

"Whoa there, son!" Engineer said quickly. "Not next to the barrels. Let's use the stairs." He looked at Tirek, then exchanged glances with Medic. "Anyway, I got a feelin' I know who's up there..."

By the time they climbed the stairwell and stepped back into the sun, a white vehicle was carefully rolling down the ramp. It was smaller than the van, with an open basin in the back rather than a large box, and there Tirek's interest in it faded. Of more significance was the driver, who waved to them as she approached. He recognized her immediately from... Grogar's beard, was it just two days ago? It felt like years. "Hey, guys!"

Scout immediately took some steps forward and grinned. "Miss Pauling!"

The female stopped the vehicle and got out, looking over the mercenaries. She noticed the open cover, and it would have taken someone far more capable than Tirek at detecting social cues to notice the moment of hesitation and mental recalibration. "Oh, you guys found it. That's great!" She looked at Tirek, a bit warily. "So did we get Spy back, or...?"

"Not yet," Engineer said. "Bit of a snag. And no offense, but is there any point to askin' how y'all found out about all this?"

She gave him an apologetic smile. "What do you think?"

"Thought not," he said with a stoic nod. "Anyway, Tirek says he can't bring Spy back until he gets more familiar with our kind of magic."

"Oh. Well, not to worry," she said as the door on the other side opened, "I brought a consultant."

Engineer's scowled. "Aw, hell... don't tell me..."

"FOOLS!"

Tirek sensed the figure before he really saw him. There was a tangible aura of magic around him, one that was clearly lost on the other humans. He found himself unconsciously bracing for the presence of a master sorcerer... but when he stepped into view, his actual physical appearance left quite a lot to be desired. From his tattered robe to his staff that was barely more than a tree branch to the ridiculous skull he wore as a hat, it seemed that wizardry did not pay very well in this realm. Still, he had a decent bearing about him, and stood dramatically as he surveyed the mercenaries. One could almost hear thunder in the back ground, and faint organ music.

He made a sweeping arcane gesture. Tirek gave it a grudging seven out of ten. "It is I, Merasmus! Cower and tremble before me! Beg for my-"

This nonexistent music was metaphorically cut short when Soldier punched him in the jaw. "Hello, Merasmus!"

Merasmus staggered back, falling against the vehicle and clutching at his chin. "Curse you, Soldier! Stop doing that!"

"C'mon, your turn!" He proffered his own chin.

"Bah, get away from me, you lackwit!"

"Forty eight and oh! I am on a roll!"

Merasmus glared at Soldier venomously, then strode forward, a red welt growing on his face. He drew himself up, trying (without much success) to regain his lost dignity. "The mighty Merasmus has been informed that his vast arcane knowledge is required! But beware, brief mortals - such knowledge comes at incredible price! Yes, even unto your very souls!"

"Yeh, right," Sniper snorted. "You must be in deep with someone nasty again if you're workin' for the Administrator."

"FOOL! The great Merasmus is beholden to no mortal authority!" Then he deflated just a little bit. "...but if I don't get fifty large to the Norwegian Mafia by the end of the month, Don Bjornsen is going to have me, in his words, 'feasting with the Einherjar'. So cut me some slack, okay?" The organ music came back. "Who is it that would suckle on the teat of my intellect?"

The mercenaries made a series of retching noises.

"I have no intention of suckling anything," Tirek said, his opinion of this 'wizard' dropping by the moment.

Merasmus turned to look him up and down. "So, this is the poor lost wandering soul who's gotten himself stuck in our little corner of the multiverse?"

"Uh, yeah," said Engineer. "This here's Tirek-"

"Lord Tirek." He crossed his arms, feeling instinctively that this human mage needed to know his place. "And I'm hardly stuck. But the magic here is so weak and unrefined it would take far too long for me to cobble together a real spell." Something made him add, "Do take care of it, there's a good chap."

The human's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I take it you're from one of the mana-rich realms. How... lucky for you."

"...meaning?" He didn't much care for the shift in Merasmus' tone.

"Nothing! Nothing at all! It's just that it must be quite nice to have all the magic you could ever want handed to you on a silver platter. Never having to work for anything."

Tirek took an angry step forward. "Now, see here...!"

"Don't you worry yourself..." Merasmus treated him to a sneer. "...my Lord. The magic here might not be up to your lofty standards, but it gets the job done."

"Hmph. Very well."

"...when handled with the proper skill."

The mercenaries watched as Tirek bristled. Scout produced a bag of popcorn from somewhere and passed it around.

(Completely unnoticed, something dropped down from the cabin of the pickup. It looked around itself furtively, then scurried into the shadows on legs it shouldn't have had.)

"How dare you take that tone with me!"

"The dread sorcerer Merasmus takes any tone he pleases!"

"'Dread sorcerer!' Hah! An entire country quakes at the mere mention of my name!"

"And yet here you are, begging for help! In another man's body, I might add!"

"Oh, and I suppose you've never suffered through a magical switcheroo!"

"It's called a Freaky Friday and don't talk to me about suffering! At least Spy knows what personal hygiene is! I was swapped with Soldier for three days! The things that man does to his body...!"

"All right, knock it off!" Miss Pauling stepped between them, pushing them apart forcefully. "Merasmus, you have a job to do, so do it!"

"Fine by me!" he snarled. "Where's this so-called 'rift'?"

"Down in ze storage vault," Medic said with a gesture.

Merasmus peered over the edge and grunted, then looked at Tirek. "You. Stand over here." He pointed to a spot a few feet away from the hole.

Tirek glowered at him but complied, and watched as Merasmus fished something out of a pocket and crouched down. he sneered. "We're using chalk, are we? Truly you are a master of the arcane."

The human paused in his scribbling and looked at the off-white stick in his hand. "Er... yes. Chalk..." He rallied. "...made from the bones of Saint Froederick, patron of those seeking to be rid of irritants. Now, be silent, and we'll have you back home in no time." He began to mutter as he drew. "Ego te non dimittam... ego numquam confundas te..."

"Hmph! See that you-" He stopped suddenly. "Er... you mean... back home in my body, right?"

"Ego numquam currere per circulos et te deseram... hm?" Merasmus looked up. "Well, yes. The request was for a standard unfreakification. Minds put back in the proper bodies."

"But you'll bring my body here first?"

Puzzled, the human stared at him, then at Miss Pauling.

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "Yyyyeeah, about that." Her hand came around, and it was holding a pistol, which she aimed at Tirek. "See, the Administrator wants Spy back as our number one priority. We don't really care what happens to you yourself. Sorry." She shrugged, but her weapon remained steady.

He took an angry step forward, but stopped when a pair of shotguns were also leveled at him, held by Pyro and Heavy. "But... all you have to do is bring my body over, and then swap us back! I'm sure I could be of great use to you!"

"The Administrator doesn't really like to deal with magic," she explained, shaking her head. "It's too... what's the word she uses? Untidy for her tastes."

In desperation, he turned to the mercenaries. "My... friends," he said, though the word was ashes in his mouth, "surely you don't want to leave me trapped for another thousand years?"

He was mostly met with blank stares. "You, uh, ain't exactly put yourself forward as bein' someone we want to have around, pardner," Engineer said finally. "No offense."

"I do not like you," Heavy said plainly. "You are full of lies and vomit."

"'Sides," Engineer added, "ain't really up to us. Maybe you and Merasmus can work something out."

Tirek's gaze slowly and reluctantly moved to the human wizard, who gave him a smile. "Oh," he said as sweetly as he could manage, "I'm sure we can come to a... mutually beneficial arrangement."

"What are your terms?" Tirek growled.

"Nothing too onerous, I think. A century or two as my familiar seems like fair compensation."

He sputtered. "For a simple corporeal transference?!"

"It's a seller's market, after all." Merasmus tapped his wrist, for reasons Tirek was far too annoyed to puzzle out. "Tick tock."

Tirek clenched his teeth and tried to think clearly. Two hundred years of indignity? That was nothing, compared to what was waiting for him in Equestria. He could do two hundred years on his head. And there was always the possibility of ending his servitude early, one way or another...

"Fine. You have a deal."

"Hah! Done and done." Merasmus turned back to his work. "Ego numquam tristis es..."

...but there was still such a thing as getting your licks in. "Is this how transference spells are done here? How... quaint."

"Silence," Merasmus muttered.

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong! I'm so very impressed at how you manage to do so much with so little."

"I'm not listening..."

Tirek hmphed and examined the arcane glyphs inscribed around the edge of the circle. Two in particular caught his attention, and he scowled. His understanding of this world's magic might be incomplete, but even he could spot such an obvious error. "And Grogar's beard, just look at this! You've even gone and transposed-" He stopped suddenly, clapping his hand over his mouth.

"Ego numquam vale..." Merasmus paused and looked at him. "What was that?"

"Hm? Oh. Nothing. Carry on. You're doing an excellent job."

The human gave him a suspicious look, but returned to his work, finishing the last of the symbols. He took position between the circle and the vault, raising his staff dramatically. Thunderclouds began to coalesce overhead, green lightning dancing among them. "Ego numquam dico mendacium et nocuerunt tibi!" he screamed. "Bozkorbos inflagrante! Open, sphincter between realities! Merasmus commands it!" He slammed his staff down, and a single huge bolt of viridescent electricity stabbed down from the clouds and into the vault itself. The mercenaries and Miss Pauling took several steps back, but it seemed the lightning had struck true, hitting the rift and not any of the volatile barrels around it.

The chalk circle around Tirek began to glow with an inner light, slowly becoming brighter. "There," Merasmus panted. "It is done." He smiled at his soon-to-be familiar. "I look forward to working with you, my Lord."

And Tirek...

...laughed.

A chuckle, then a guffaw, then a full-throated maniacal cackle. The assorted humans looked at each other in confusion. Then Tirek lifted his head and smiled at Merasmus, the now-bright light from below giving his appearance an unpleasant cast. "Thank you so much... you fool!"

Then a second bolt of lightning split off from the first and arced directly into him. He screamed in agony... and vanished.

The clouds and lightning dispersed, and for long moments all eyes were locked on the chalk circle, where a patch of rising smoke marked the place Tirek had been standing.

Then Engineer surged forward and grabbed Merasmus by the robe. "You killed him, you son of a bitch!" he growled.

"I... I didn't...!"

"Medic can't bring his body back from that!" He paused and looked at the German, who thought for a moment but shook his head. "You done left Spy trapped in that other world, and for what? Because Tirek was bein' mouthy?!"

"I'm telling you, it's not my fault" Merasmus protested. "Everything was going exactly as it should!"

"I've 'eard that one before," Sniper said.

Scout nodded. "Yeah, gettin' a real case of Dijon mustard here."

"You can see for yourself!" Merasmus said, gesturing at the circle. "Or could, if any of you actually read those tomes you got instead of only using them for mayhem! My spell was-" He stopped, and looked at the circle again. He muttered under his breath, and then paled. "Oh. Oh." He looked up at the mercenaries. "...oh dear."

"What did wizard do?" Heavy asked menacingly.

Merasmus touched his index fingertips together. "I... may have put these two symbols in the wrong order." He tapped them with his staff. "Corpozik and Intekos. You, uh, will note that they're very similar..."

"Get to the point," Engineer demanded.

"Weeeelllll... instead of 'mind to body', the spell is now a transference of 'body to mind'. Which means..."

The Texan pushed him to the ground. "Meaning we're gonna have Spy get his body back, in the other world? And Tirek's gonna be here with his own?"

"...that does seem likely, yes." He saw the mercenaries ready their weapons. "But not to worry! Once this transference is complete, I can bring Spy here easily enough!"

"Aye," Demoman said with a glare, "ye damn well better, unless ye wanna give that immortality a real stress test."

"Er... yes. Understood. I'll just... go and get ready, shall I?" He reached into his robe again and pulled another stick of chalk from its cardboard box.

"Bloody wizards," Sniper muttered.

"Well, as long as we get Spy back," Miss Pauling said, "I guess it's fine."

"Yeah," Scout said, inching closer. "And maybe after this... we... you and I... y'know... could go... do..." He hesitated. "...stuff."

She gave him a look that was part pity, part exasperation, and perhaps a very, very small part affection. "I do sometimes do... stuff," she agreed. "But I'm sure the Administrator will want me back as soon as this is over."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Maybe next time."

"Yeah. Maybe next time."

Engineer shook his head, then sauntered toward the original chalk circle. He watched the smouldering patch for a moment. "How long is this gonna-"

Lightning leapt out of the vault and struck the center of the circle, knocking Engineer off his feet. It danced there for a moment, then there was the sound best described as a Doppler-reversed scream and a bright flash of light. A wave of displaced air buffeted the mercenaries as something appeared in the circle... and began to laugh.

The mercenaries all had their personal musings what Tirek looked like in his own body. Few of their concepts came anywhere close to the mark, and absolutely none of them thought that when he arrived, they'd have to look up. He stood a good twelve feet tall, sable and bright scarlet, with muscles not even Soldier could boast. "At last! At last! Free from that dismal prison! Admittedly, it's only been a few years, but it's the principle of the thing."

"My God, men," Soldier announced, "he's naked! Prepare to counterattack!" He ripped open his jacket.

"Oh, no need to fret, gentlemen," Tirek said, smirking down at them. "I bear you... well, some ill will, but I'm willing to let bygones be bygones."

"That's... right neighborly of ya, pardner," Engineer said, never lifting his hand from his shotgun.

Tirek laughed again. "I just can't get over how small you all are! I thought you would be about the same size as me, but look at you!" He reached out a hand, and their weapons were raised higher. "I could just squish you with-"

Then he stopped and stared at his hand, lifting it to his face and turning it back and forth. "What... is... this?" he said, his voice filled with amazement.

"Um... s'called a hand," Scout offered. "You got two of 'em."

Tirek looked down at himself. He flexed, and admired the muscles that rippled under his skin. A grin slowly spread across his face, and he laughed once more. "Oh, my hooves and horns! Your Spy has been taking very good care of my body, it seems! He's fed! And fed well! I wonder how he managed that?"

"What d'you mean, 'fed'?" Sniper asked.

"Allow me to demonstrate!" Merasmus had been slowly backing away ever since Tirek reappeared, but now the centaur reached out his hand toward the wizard. His mouth gaped wide, a miniature sun glowed between his horns, and a current of energy flowed out of Merasmus and into that vast maw. The human staggered, and Tirek grew slightly larger. He made a face. "Tastes like muck. But power is power!"

"Enough of this!" Merasmus reclaimed his footing and raised his staff. "Back to your own world, foul interloper! The mighty Merasmus banishes you! POLOKO ZARBO!"

Nothing happened. Tirek grinned down at him.

"...Brizbo rakatrumus" Merasmus tried, to an equal lack of effect. "Jabooki splort! Hubihaba balabanaza!" He looked down at himself. "What... what have you done? My magic! It's gone!"

Tirek sneered. "It belongs to me now! Be glad if it's all I take from you!"

Mersasmus fell back, staring up at Tirek in horror, then scrambled away.

"All right, you've had your fun, fella," Engineer said with a frown. "Can't say he didn't deserve that. But he was our only ticket to gettin' Spy back, so you'd best take care of it, if you'd be so kind."

There was, at least theoretically, an alternate universe where Tirek complied with this request, brought Spy back to his own world, and was left alone to complete his master scheme. Whether or not the story of that world came to a happier ending would be up for speculation. Certainly Equestria wouldn't have enjoyed it. But either way, that world was not this one.

"You would dare make demands of Lord Tirek?"

"Just a polite request. For now."

Scout placed himself between Tirek and Miss Pauling. "You better get out of here," he said over his shoulder. "This could get ugly."

She gave a quick nod. "Right. Good luck." She turned toward her pickup... but stopped when the door slammed and it roared to life. The driver, a familiar skull perched on his head, performed a three-point turn and drove up the ramp. "My truck!" she shouted, and ran after it. A moment later there was a crash as the pickup plowed through a chain-link fence gate.

Soldier fired a rocket at his feet, launching himself up to the platform above. He joined Miss Pauling as she helplessly watched her truck recede into the distance, then produced a pair of binoculars and peered through them. "...it's all right, Miss Pauling!" he said. "Merasmus is just giving himself some room to support us from a distance! A lot of distance!"

"And why should I do anything you ask me to?" Tirek demanded.

"See?" Soldier continued. "He's rolled down the window to cast a spell!"

"Well," Engineer said, "if y'all don't, we might have to get downright... impolite."

"...I can't quite make out what kind of spell it is..."

"You are dangerously out of your league, little monkey!"

"...but it only involves the use of one finger." Soldier lowered his binoculars and watched the white dot vanish over a dune with a puzzled look, then waved. "Goodbye, Merasmus!"

"I reckon we'll have to see about that. Soldier!"

He vaulted over the railing with one hand, and held on long enough to reduce his fall. The mercenaries squared up behind Engineer, weapons at the ready. "You've seen us fight, Tirek, but you ain't never fought against us. It's about time we really show you who you're dealing with."

"Funny," Tirek said with a sneer, "I was thinking the same thing!" The little sun between his horns flared to life again, but this time a lance of flame erupted from its surface, scything across the team. The mercenaries dove for cover, then responded in kind.

Tirek raised a barrier around himself just before a sniper round caught him in the head. He reached out and telekinetically seized a rocket and two pipe bombs, pushing them to the side and causing them to strike the wall behind him, exploding in a shower of concrete. He picked up a chunk of stone and rebar and hurled it at the team.

Heavy stepped forward. "Doctor!" A quick ÜberCharge turned his skin into scarlet metal, and the concrete shattered harmlessly. The mercenaries renewed their assault, and the barrier quickly began to show cracks.

The centaur scowled. He had power, but not enough for a sustained combat; he needed to end this now. "Enough!" he roared, gathering all the energy he could spare and sending it toward them in a single raw burst of magic. It exploded in their midst and...

He stopped and stared at what he'd done for several seconds. "That," he said, bemused, "is not what I expected to happen."

The battle was abruptly over, and the mercenaries were in no state to continue it.

Freed of distractions, Tirek turned his attention back to the vault. With the power he had remaining, he could indeed open the gate and bring his target through... but he would only get one shot at it. He would have to get it right the first time.

After all, someone had to save poor little Cozy Glow from Tartarus.

A circle of blue glyphs appeared around him, and he began to concentrate.

Well, off to visit your Princess!

Professional assassins sleep lightly. Spy wasn’t sleeping at all.

He sat in his oversized cage, staring vaguely ahead. Ever since Cozy Glow had told him her story, his mind had been fully engaged in processing what she’d said. Empathy and compassion were not things that came easily to him, of course, being liabilities in his line of work, but he'd sought out whatever words he could to help her move past the mental barrier inflicted upon her.

He’d come up with nothing.

He didn’t even have the energy left to be frustrated. There seemed to be few options open to him; he was securely trapped again, Twilight Sparkle would be there within hours to whisk him away, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Tempest had left Tartarus a little while before without checking in on her prisoners, so he couldn’t even plead his case with her again.

Now it was sometime in the mid-morning, and his rendezvous with this mysterious alicorn was rapidly approaching. His only hope for helping Cozy Glow seemed to be to relay her story to Twilight – which, admittedly, was not what the filly would want - but even that he’d have to consider a failure. After all, he could hardly trust the ones who aided in getting Cozy Glow into this situation to get her out, now could he?

All he could do now was damage control. Make things easier for Cozy Glow, give her the best chance he could.

Although…

He raised his eyes from her cage to the beast protecting it and the small form slumbering inside.

…in the unlikely event another opportunity made itself available, he may as well clear another obstacle from the field. But how to do it?

Well, she said the beast was somewhat intelligent. And honesty seemed to be serving him surprisingly well in this place, didn’t it?

“Hound.”

Cerberus jolted to alertness from its doze, then glared down at him and growled in unison, though not loudly.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, yes, you don’t like me,” he said. “Heartbreaking. But you like her, don’t you?”

They glanced down at the cage briefly. The glares became suspicious.

“You know as well as I do that she doesn’t belong here,” he insisted.

The center head bared his teeth, but the others looked away shamefully.

Spy took a breath and nodded. “I don’t know if I’m going to have another chance to free her, but if I do, I know I won’t succeed with you in the picture. Stand down. Please. Not for my sake, but for hers.”

Cerberus looked down at the little cage for long moments, then emitted a trio of whines. They carefully stood up and padded down the stairs in surprising silence. Spy watched them find a spot by the huge doors and curl up in apparent sleep.

Roused by the vibrations, or perhaps the sudden breeze, Cozy Glow began to stir. She lifted her head and stared at him blearily…

…then smiled. “Good morning, Spy!” she said.

He regarded her, no expression reaching his borrowed face. “…good morning, Miss Glow.”

She stood up and stretched. “Mmm… for some reason, I’m feeling a lot better now. I guess getting all that off my chest helped a lot!”

…ah. “Really.”

“Yeah!” she said with a little laugh. “I feel silly for never having done it before.”

“That’s good to hear,” he replied carefully.

She glanced up at him, but not a single trace of reaction showed. “…y’know,” she said finally, looking around at the cavern, “I really am getting tired of this place. Maybe I’ll give a foster family another try.”

There was no response for several seconds, then Spy’s demeanor finally changed. He gave her a slight smile. “…are you sure?”

“I mean, I guess,” she said in an offhand manner, relaxing slightly. “Oh, I’ll let Twilight talk me into it, of course. No point in making it too easy for her.”

"Good idea,” he said with a nod. “It’s always smart to obfuscate your true motives.”

“’Obfuscate’. Good word.”

“Still, I would hate to leave you here in the care of the Princesses.”

She made a dismissive noise. “Please. I can handle the Princesses. The only one I haven’t already beaten is Cadance, and I’m out of her jurisdiction.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“So I’ll be fine! You don’t have to worry about me. I’m actually looking forward to going back into the world.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do splendidly,” he said, and she beamed at him. “After all, you’re intelligent, capable, determined…”

Then he met her gaze. “…and an accomplished liar.”

She froze.

“You have no intention of leaving Tartarus,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “’You can’t fib a fibber,’ Miss Glow. But… thank you for the consideration.”

“No, I-!”

“Miss Glow. Please.”

Her mouth moved a moment more, then she gave up and looked away. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t escape when you gave me the chance,” she said in a small voice. “I just… don’t want to get out there. Not like that.”

He didn’t respond. No matter what he did or said, even if he dragged her out of Tartarus, a part of her would still be stuck in that house in the clouds, reliving that one moment.

“I just don’t want you to be worried about me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

‘Fine.’ Yes, well, an easy standard to meet when you define the word as ‘being in the prison of your choice’. “Miss Glow, I…” He stopped. “What happened in the past was…” He stopped again.

What did you say in this situation? What could you say?

“It’s okay,” she reassured him again. “This is what’s best for everypony. You’ll see.” She drooped a little. “…or I guess you won’t.”

Stab. Twist. If he were capable of it, he’d feel a twinge of sympathy for all his victims over the years.

He felt so… helpless! The girl was confined twice over – thrice, if you counted the cage – and for all its enchantments and security measures, Tartarus was a child’s crib compared to the prison she had forged around herself. He couldn’t break her out of it. Perhaps nobody could.

Spy gathered himself up to try again, useless as it might be. “I’d… like you to at least talk to someone… tell them what you told me last night. Perhaps they can-“

“Hng!”

He lifted his head. Cozy Glow was grimacing, her body making odd twitching motions. “Oh, come now, don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m… hgh! I’m not!”

“…what’s wrong, then?”

“I’m not sure,” she managed. A strange light began to coalesce around her. “I feel… weird…”

Spy sat up, alarmed. “Miss Glow?”

Suddenly her eyes shot open, glowing with internal power. Green sparks began to skitter across her fur randomly. He reached out to her, but the cages were too far apart. He tried anyway, his fingertips almost brushing the closest bar.

A bolt of emerald electricity erupted from her body. He barely had time to react before it arced into him, striking him full in the chest. Indescribable agony flooded through his every molecule, and then…

He had the impression that he was falling through an impossibly small tunnel, far too narrow to fit his borrowed body and yet it was being forced through anyway. He was pulled down the tunnel for an indefinite, excruciating period, aware of nothing but pain and motion.

Then he saw – not that he was experiencing vision in the usual sense – another figure approaching from up ahead. It was coming toward him too quickly and he was too disoriented to get a good look at it, but it seemed to be human…

There was a moment of collision and confusion, and then he was falling back, watching a massive red form receding into the ‘distance’. The return trip was no more pleasant than the initial journey.

With a jolt, the pain abruptly vanished, and he found himself back in Tartarus. He staggered, feeling both light-headed and light-bodied, as if a vast weight had been unaccountably lifted. He also felt a deep physical need, one that had been missing the last two days: an addiction that had not been fed. Spy reflexively reached into the jacket he knew wasn’t there…

But it was.

His fingers – his gloved fingers – closed around the familiar metal case in its concealed pocket. He froze In realization, then pulled it out. “Yes! Yes! Finally!” He popped it open, reached in…

Stopped.

The cigarettes were not where they should have been. He turned the case over and shook it; a pile of cold, stale, soggy bacon tumbled to the floor of his cage.

“I’ll kill him,” Spy growled. “I’ll kill him slowly.”

“S-Spy?”

He turned and waved away some of the smoke that was curling around him. Cozy Glow was pressed against the back of her cage, staring at him with eyes even wider than normal. “Is… is that you?” she managed.

He spread his arms and looked down at himself. Everything seemed to be more or less in order. “Yes, Miss Glow. This is the real me.”

“…whoah…” Then her head tilted critically. “You look really weird.”

He smirked. “Bold words coming from a sheep.”

“Hey!”

He inspected himself again. “It seems Tirek has somehow managed to reclaim his body.”

“Gee, do you think so?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Too bad that doesn’t do us any good. You’re still stuck in that cage.”

He looked around at his confinement. “Am I now?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! That thing doesn’t even have a lock you can pick!”

“All things are possible with the proper motivation, Miss Glow. Allow me to demonstrate a secret technique handed down from my ancestors.”

She gave him a dubious look, but sat down to watch. Spy took a long, deep breath in preparation, raised his hands into a vaguely mystical gesture…

…then stepped forward. The cage was designed for something vastly larger than his natural body; he barely had to twist his shoulders to walk between the bars. He spread his arms and smiled.

“…oh.” She made a face. “Yeah, okay, I flew into that one. So… what are you going to do now?”

A good question. His options had suddenly been vastly increased… and as he considered which to choose, fate granted him yet another. The giant doors began to rumble once more, and daylight spilled into the cavern. Spy approached the edge of the plateau and dropped to the ground, peering downwards. Sure enough, Tempest Shadow was returning to Tartarus… and she was alone.

He crawled back and stood up, dusting off his clothing. “First of all,” he said, not too loudly, “I believe I shall secure our exit from this place.” He began to double check his equipment.

She regarded him doubtfully. “Really? You’re going to go up against her again? Like that? You’re way smaller and scrawnier now! You can’t beat her like this!”

He chuckled. “Oh… I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He pulled out his knife, and out of sheer habit gave it a flourish as he opened it to check the blade. Metal flashed in the omnipresent light.

Cozy Glow stared at the knife apprehensively. “Oh… right. You… you kill people, huh?”

He looked down at it, then tucked it away a bit self-consciously. “For money, Miss Glow. A little homicidium causa homicidii is all right for some, I suppose, but personally it offends my professional standards. Although… we shall have to see. She is, as you note, a formidable opponent.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Now, time is short. Wait here…”

“…as if I had a choice…”

“…and once I deal with her, we’ll talk. All right?”

She nodded and settled down on the floor of her cage. “Just… don’t hurt her, okay?” She looked away. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

He regarded her for a while, still at a loss for words. “I’ll do what I can,” he said finally, “and what I must.” Then he vanished, fading from view with a faint hissing sound.

She looked up, startled. “S-Spy?!”

“I’ll be right back,” came his voice from nowhere. “No need to worry.”

There was no further evidence of his existence. Cozy Glow settled down to wait.

Conditions in Tartarus were always the same. It was never too hot, never too cold, never too dark or bright. It wasn’t set up to punish its prisoners, but to contain them. It was simply there, an immutable constant, unchanging day after day, year after year.

And yet, to Cozy Glow, it suddenly felt unaccountably colder.

It wasn’t that she was worried about Spy, of course. She was still mad at him, for acting just like the Princesses when it mattered most. For not being what she’d hoped he was.

(She was vaguely aware that this might be considered unreasonable. But she was still a filly, and a monster. She felt she was allowed.)

But that didn’t mean she wanted anything bad to happen to him. He seemed entirely confident, but she’d seen now what Tempest was capable of, and even if he could turn invisible, that didn’t mean she couldn’t-

A sudden electric light flashed down below, accompanied by a scream of agony. A male scream.

She wasn’t worried. She wasn’t!

Minutes seemed to pass like years as she strained her ears, seeking more information. Her cage was too small and low for her to see over the edge of the plateau, so listening was all she could manage. Finally she heard a sound, so everyday and commonplace she’d normally just tune it out, but right now was the last thing she wanted to hear: hoofsteps.

“Hey!” a familiar voice called. “You two okay up there?!” Tempest’s mohawk came into view as she mounted the last few steps, and she turned her head to look down at the entrance. “What in the world was that thing?” she muttered.

Cozy Glow stared at her wordlessly, heart fallen almost as far as it could go.

Getting no response, Tempest looked at her prisoner… and her eyes went wide. “Wha… where’s Spy?” She hurried over

(And if her gait seemed a bit unnatural, Cozy Glow didn’t notice)

and peered into the large cage as though the massive centaur could be hiding in a corner. “Where did he go?”

“You’ve already seen him,” the filly said quietly.

Tempest blinked, then turned toward the entrance again. “That thing that attacked me… that was Spy?!”

“Tirek took his body back. I don’t know how. What did you do to Spy?”

“He looked so weird…” She shook her head. “Oh. I just knocked him out and put him in a spare cage. I don’t think I hurt him, but he startled me. We’ll see how he feels when he wakes up.”

The filly relaxed slightly despite herself. “I… I guess this is for the best. Twilight won’t be as suspicious now that he’s not in Tirek’s body anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point. Sparkle should be able to send him back to wherever he’s from without too much trouble.” She looked down at the cage. “Which only leaves the question of what we’re gonna do with you.”

Cozy Glow’s head tilted slightly in puzzlement. “Huh?”

“No point in keeping you cramped up in there any longer, anyway. Let’s get that cage open.” The unicorn lowered her head and started nosing around in her clothing.

“W-wait, what are you talking about? I’m supposed to-“

“What the hay? Where did the key go?”

Cozy Glow sneered. “I stole it! I stole it and I threw it in the pit!”

“What? Why?”

“Because this is where I should be! I belong in Tartarus!”

Tempest stared at her again… then did the worst possible thing. She laughed. “Yeah, no, you don’t, kid.”

“Hah! Try to tell that to the Princesses!”

“…who do you think said to let you out?”

As Cozy Glow stood, mouth open, Tempest searched uselessly for the key for a moment, then regarded the cage. “It’s gonna be a pain getting a new key sent over from Canterlot. This looks pretty beat up, though. I bet I can smash it open…”

“N-no…” The filly shook her head roughly. “No, I deserve to be here! I’m the one who almost destroyed Equestria! And they know what’ll happen if I’m not here!”

Tempest looked at her. “The whole thing with the orphanage, right?”

“Yes!”

“C’mon, kid. You really think they couldn’t have come up with a better solution if they wanted to? The two oldest and wisest ponies in the world?”

Cozy Glow hesitated. “But… But Luna said… she admitted it, just last night…”

The unicorn snorted. “With Spy in the room, yeah? Luna told me about that too. She said what she wanted him to hear.”

“…but… I-I don’t…”

“The only reason you’re here in the first place,” Tempest continued relentlessly, “was to see if you and Tirek could reform each other and start acting like decent creatures. It was a long shot, and it didn’t pan out, but they must have figured it was worth trying. Now that Tirek’s gone, what do they need you for? Not like you can do anything bad without him, after all.”

“I, I can! I can so do terrible things!” She stomped her hoof. “You better not let me out of Tartarus, or I’ll show you how bad I can be!”

The former unicorn smirked down at her. “Sure you will. You managed it once, but now everyone’s on to you. You won’t get a second chance. Hate to break it to you, Cozy, but no… pony takes you seriously. You’re nothing but a nuisance. At worst.” She leaned forward. “Face it. You’re just a little kid.”

Cozy Glow glared searing fire at her warden. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” she snarled. “Once I’m out of here, I’m gonna make sure Equestria regrets it. And everypony’s gonna know that you’re the one that made it happen!”

Tempest raised her head with a (slightly self-satisfied) smirk. “I wanted to be a princess, when I grew up. It’s nice to have a dream.” She turned her attention to the cage. “Now, either you sit in there until Sparkle shows up, or you stand back while I see if I can smack this door open. Those are your only two choices.”

To a strategic mind, this would have seemed like a very foolish decision. Opening the cage door would have allowed Cozy Glow to quickly escape into the greater cavern, with Tempest completely unable to recapture her. Then once Twilight Sparkle opened the extremely tall doors from the outside, it would have been literal child’s play to escape before the Princess knew what was happening. The filly would have been free and clear.

Unfortunately for someone’s expectations, she wasn’t thinking very strategically at the moment.

“I can think of a third option,” Cozy Glow said, crouching low.

“Oh yeah?” Tempest replied absently.

“I’ll break myself out of here! I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help!”

Tempest laughed. “Yeah, okay. You just-“

The filly launched herself upwards, struck the roof of the cage… and kept pushing, little wings flapping furiously. The cage slowly began to rise.

“…cute,” the unicorn admitted. “Now knock it off before you… hey!” Cozy Glow had redoubled her efforts, and the cage had suddenly shot upward, out of reach. “Get back down here!”

The cage continued to rise, wobbling slightly. “You don’t get to decide what happens to me!” she shouted, wings moving at hummingbird speed. “I won’t let anypony look down on me anymore! The only one… who gets to say… what I can or can’t do…”

The cage scraped against the cavern ceiling.

“…is me!”

And then the cage began to drop.

Tempest took a step forward in alarm. “Miss Glow!”

It tumbled as it fell, the small form within curled into a ball.

Tempest positioned herself as best she could beneath it, and ultimately could only somewhat cushion its impact. Ribs broke and limbs fractured, and the filly within was tossed around painfully. The cage rebounded once and then, giving in to all the damage it had endured recently, shattered on the second bounce. Pieces of wood and metal scattered across the plateau, mingling with the debris from Tirek’s former confinement. Unlike his escape, there was no triumphant trot from within a cloud of dust, and both mare and filly lay motionless on the ground for several minutes as Tartarus’ restorative properties did their work.

Tempest was far more used to pain and physical injury, but she had taken the brunt of the impact, and it was Cozy Glow who moved first. She managed to get her hooves beneath her and took a few drunken steps. “Another plan flawlessly executed!” she announced in a warbling voice. Then she fell over with a sound best transcribed as 'blegh!'

The unicorn pushed herself up with a groan. “Not… not bad, kid,” she said. “Really reckless and dumb… but not bad.”

Cozy Glow didn’t respond, focusing on getting herself airborne.

“This doesn’t change anything, though! You’re still trapped in here, and Sparkle’s still coming in soon! What’s your plan now?”

“My plan is to grab Spy and get us both out of here. I won’t let you stop us! We’re going together!”

The filly was too high up now to notice, but Tempest’s expression softened slightly. “…of course.” Then she raised her voice. “And how are you gonna do that? I’m the only one in here who can open the door!”

Cozy Glow scowled in determination. “Then I’m just gonna have to make you open it! You’re too beat up right now to put up much of a fight, I bet!”

Tempest smirked and pushed herself up further. “I’d like to see you try, pipsqueak!”

Though she didn’t quite have the voice for a battle cry, Cozy Glow gave it her best attempt as she dove toward the purple mare. Tempest rose up on her hind legs and laughed as her opponent dropped toward her.

The laugh continued as they collided and tumbled several hooflengths away. Cozy Glow tried to pull away, but the mare’s hooves seemed to grip her forelegs oddly. Then a red cloud swirled around them, the laughter dropped in pitch, the purple was replaced by a muted red, and…

”Well done, Miss Glow!” Spy crowed proudly. “I knew you could do it!”

”Spy?!” She goggled at him. “What… how did…” Her expression became pained. “Oh, no, this isn’t all a dream, is it?!”

“Not this time,” he assured her. “Once again, it’s really me.”

“Oh.” Then she realized he was still holding her by the forelegs. She started to squirm. “Hey, let go of me! I’m still mad at you!”

“No,” Spy decided, “I don’t think I will. I have something to say to you.”

“I don’t care! Why should I listen?!”

“Because I’m larger than you, stronger than you, and I have opposable thumbs.”

She tried to bite them, but he managed to evade her teeth. “That’s not fair!”

“Life rarely is.”

“You tricked me! Again! You and your stupid smug changeling-“

“I’m sorry.”

She stopped and looked up at him.

“I should have realized sooner why you were so upset. By trying to push you out of Tartarus, I was committing the same crime as your parents. I was trying to take away your agency.”

She frowned. “I don’t think I have one of those.”

“I mean your free will,” he corrected. “Your right to choose. I meant it only in your best interest, but I can see I should have discussed that eventuality with you beforehand. We are partners, after all.”

She settled down slightly, but only slightly. “What bothered me most is when you said I wasn’t a villain. That hurt.”

Spy nodded. “For all that you’ve done, I thought you were just a girl playing at being a villain. Now I understand the depths of your determination and will. To tear at the world that failed you… that is motivation enough for any villain.”

She perked up, and he released her. “You really think so?!”

“I do. There are those in my world who have done far more, with far less justification.”

She considered this, and seemed to relax further.

Then he took a breath. “That being said,” he continued, “I do have an issue with the other title you claimed. That of ‘monster’.”

She looked away. “…oh.”

But instead of bringing up her parents at all, he said, “Now, to be sure, villainy is certainly a worthwhile profession. It has its perks. But… a monster?” He shook his head and tutted. “Any brute can be a monster. You’re better than that.”

“…that’s not where I expected you to go,” she admitted. “B-but I have to! Somepony who would do what I did… my cutie mark, everything that happened… I don’t have-“

“-a choice?” he cut in. “Because the world decided what you should be?”

Again, she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Y-yeah…”

“Miss Glow. I am not someone who is well-practiced with words of comfort or guidance. But I’m going to give you some advice that I guarantee you would never get from anyone in this storybook dimension.”

Cozy Glow landed and looked up at him, listening intently.

Spy leaned down. “Fuck the world.”

After a pause, she giggled nervously. “…I think that’s a bad word.”

“Do you want to be a monster, Miss Glow?”

“Well… no, not really…”

“Then why,” he asked, gently rapping her on the forehead, “are you letting the world make that decision for you? Did you not just say you are the only one who decides what you do?”

“I know, but-!“

“Your parents, I know. You are allowing yourself to be defined by one single event from a moment when you’d been betrayed and pushed to your limit. That was the start of your journey, Miss Glow, not the whole of it! You can make a new path, and if Fate dares tell you otherwise, spit in her eye! Be cunning! Be outrageous! Be monstrous, if it suits you!” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Be the villain you want to be!”

Her eyes shone in revelation. “Yeah! Yeah!” She took to the air out of sheer excitement. “Buck the world! You’re right, Spy! I’m tired of being in here every day putting up with Tirek’s attitude! I wanna go out and live! All of Equestria is out there, and it’s mine for the taking!”

“And if the Princesses treat you like a child again?” he prompted.

“Then I’ll show them!” She grinned in fierce anticipation. “I’ll show them all!”

Spy beamed at her. “That’s the spirit!”

Then she settled down, both literally and figuratively, and her expression became somewhat wry and wistful. “I’m, uh… I think I’m still kind of… broken, though,” she said in a small voice.

He snorted. “Welcome to being alive. We’re all broken here, one way or another. For what you’ve been through, you’ve come out of it better than many would.”

“I guess,” she murmured, not sounding very convinced.

“But if it’s any consolation, Miss Glow,” he continued, “I’m certain of one thing: you’re not a monster.”

“How do you know?”

“Because in the colloquial sense, I believe the common definition is that monsters don’t care about others, yes?” He reached down and poked her nose. “You care,” he finished simply.

She rubbed her nose. “What? Psh. No, I don’t.”

“Really.” His hand dipped inside his jacket, and produced the metal case again. He touched its interior briefly, and then…

Cozy Glow took a step back as Spy was enveloped by red clouds, and when they passed she was looking at… well, herself. “Oh, Tempest,” the copy said, looking up with soulful eyes. “Don’t hurt Tirek. He doesn’t deserve it.” She turned her head. “Oh, Spy. Don’t hurt Tempest. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“I-I don’t sound like that.”

The clouds came and went again, and Spy was returned. “Normally, I would consider compassion a liability, but I think you wear it well. The fact that two specific ponies didn’t earn it from you is a reflection on them, not you.”

She nodded, considering this. “How are you doing that, anyway? You aren’t a changeling after all, are you?”

“Ah. No, I-“

“No, I guess not. Can’t imagine you’d want to look like that.”

He glowered at her. “Thank you for that, Miss Glow.” He opened the case and showed her the screen and buttons within. “My disguise kit. It allows me to take the appearance of any creature I’ve scanned into it.”

Then he pulled up a sleeve, revealing a timepiece on his wrist. “Invisibility watch, with effects you can likely deduce.” He touched a button on its side and briefly vanished.

“And my sapper,” he said finally, pulling a box, larger than the disguise kit, from another pocket. “Intended for the disabling of electronic devices, though in a pinch it can be overloaded to produce a small but loud electric burst.” The box sparked and smoldered briefly. “This does, however, invalidate its warranty.” He tossed it aside.

“Whoah,” she breathed, duly impressed. “That’s cool.”

“The tools of my trade. One can never have too many advantages. But we’ve tarried long enough, and I’m just about recovered from your little escape attempt. Shall we go?”

“You bet!” She flew up and looked him in the eye. “And we’ll get out of here together.”

He smiled and nodded. “Together.”

As he stood up, Spy's shoe pushed against something weighty and metal. He peered down, and picked up the lock from Cozy Glow’s cage. The impact from the fall had broken it, shearing through the shackle. He regarded it for a moment, then tucked it away in a pocket. “You’re taking that with you?” she asked him.

“A keepsake,” he said. “This is a day to be remembered.” He dusted himself off. “Let us collect Miss Shadow and make good our departure.”

“Oh, right. What did you do to her, anyway? I didn’t hear any fighting.”

“Nothing so crass. She’ll recover.” He pulled out what looked like a sock filled with stones. “I simply introduced her to my favorite game.”

There was a flurry of motion outside Tartarus as the giant doors began to open. Voices could be heard from within. "Bye, Cerberus! I'll miss you! I'll come back to visit after I take over Equestria!"

"...so you see, this makeshift weapon is called a blackjack, but that is also the name of a card game, popular in gambling circles. It's a clever play on words"

"I don't think we have that here."

"Ah. Pity."

"Spy?"

"Yes, Miss Glow?"

"Why are you bringing Tempest with us? The door's open, so we don't need her anymore."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Um... no?"

"A hostage will be useful to deal with the guards outside the door."

"Oh." There was a pause. "...wait. What guards?"

"Stop right there, criminal scum!"

A full score of white, armor-clad pegasi were suddenly arrayed before them. Though they tried to look menacing, there was a scattering of nervous whispering within the ranks. "What is that thing?!"

"It looks so weird!"

"It's got Tempest Shadow!"

"That scrawny thing took her down?!"

"It must be one of Cozy Glow's friendship zombies!"

The pegasus in the lead stomped a hoof, silencing the hubbub. "You are under arrest! Put down the unicorn and return to Tartarus immediately!"

Human and filly regarded them, the latter with her mouth open. Then she looked up at Spy. "Okay, how?! Nobody said anything about guards! There weren't any when I was brought in!"

Spy gave her a serene smile as he carefully lowered Tempest to the ground. "Another lesson for the student. How did I know?"

"Ugh! You are so obnoxious!" But her brow furrowed in thought regardless.

"Gentlemen!" he said loudly, crouching next to the mare. "I would advise against hasty decisions at this point." Suddenly his knife was in his hand, and it was pressed against Tempest's throat. "That was a threat, by the way, as well as a pun. I feel that may need to be explained."

The guards shifted uncertainly. None of them moved to stop him.

"Sensible. But just to be certain..." With his other hand he pulled his revolver from his jacket and pointed it at them. "I don't suppose any of you know what this is? No, I thought not. Then consider it a magic wand. I can use it to cast the spell 'abracamurder'. I'll demonstrate, if you insist."

They weren't sure what that meant, but froze in place.

"Excellent."

"Um," Cozy Glow said quietly, "what now?"

"Now we wait."

"Wait?"

"It's proper manners to wait for the hostage negotiator before making demands, and it saves time as well. She should be here soon."

"Oh, I get it. Are you sure? She'll probably mess everything up." The filly scowled. "She usually does."

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the guards. "Little choice. I wasn't anticipating quite this many fliers. You could likely give them the slip in the air, they seem rather dull, but on the ground it would be another matter entirely. My watch only lasts so long before it must recharge, and there's little cover to work with here. So...?"

"So we turn our disadvantage into an advantage," she replied with a nod. "Deal with Twilight directly, and have her get rid of the goons."

"Precisely. And with any luck, it won't be too long before-"

"What's going on here?"

A pair of winged ponies descended and landed between the guards and the escapees. The armored orange pegasus stood near his compatriots, while the purple one sporting a horn as well as wings peered at the focus of the tableau. Her eyes widened. "A human?! In Equestria?!"

"That's her," Cozy Glow confirmed, in case it wasn't clear. Though admittedly, Spy had been expecting someone a bit larger. There was no size consistency for Princesses, apparently.

"Ah, Princess Twilight," Spy said smoothly. "So glad you could join us."

"I'm so sorry this has happened to you!" she said. "Don't worry, I know just how to..." Then she finally finished processing what was before her. "...wait. Fizzlepop? Why are..." She looked at Spy. "What are you doing to her?!"

He laughed. "Luna really didn't tell you a thing about me, did she? Miss Glow, if you would?"

"Ahem! Twilight Sparkle, allow me to introduce Spy. He's a professional assassin."

The guards took an unconscious step back, while Twilight clearly wanted to. Her horn began to glow. "If you've hurt her..."

"Ah-ah-ah, Princess," he said scoldingly. The knife pressed more firmly against dark magenta fur. "We don't want any accidents, do we? I guarantee my reflexes are, aheh, sharper than yours. The slightest tug might just make my hand twitch."

She glared at him, but held her magic in check.

"If you'll indulge me, I'm told you know a bit about my species." He lifted his pistol and put her in his sights. "By any chance, do you recognize this?"

Now she did step back. "I do." The Earth of her experience was more advanced than Spy's, and she'd played enough video games to recognize firearms.

"Splendid! Finally someone civilized. So turn that horn off, if you please."

She did so, still glaring daggers at him. "Let her go, or so help me...!"

"Ugh," Cozy Glow growled. "She's always so bossy."

"Well, she is a Princess," he noted. "I expect it comes with the title. Your friend is not seriously hurt, your Highness, and her condition will not degrade as long as you mind your manners."

"What do you want?" she snarled.

"First of all, I would like a bit more privacy. Send these fine officers of the law - or the military, or whatever - far away from here. If I see even a hint of them after the next thirty seconds, things may get messy."

"Princess?" the orange one asked nervously.

Her glare continued for a moment, then she addressed the guards. "Everypony, go back to Canterlot. Tell Celestia and Luna what you saw here."

"Are you sure?"

She turned again to Spy, who was looking infuriatingly smug. Fizzlepop lay limp and lifeless in his grasp, disturbingly doll-like in her lack of motion. "...no. But it's my decision to make, and my responsibility. Get going."

The guards exchanged glances, then their leader took to the air, and the rest followed suit. Soon they were vanishing dots in the sky.

"Nice," Cozy Glow said admiringly.

"Diplomacy is a talent of mine," he replied with false humility.

"You don't have to do this," Twilight told him. "I can help you-"

"-get home, yes, I know. Miss Shadow has already made that sales pitch. And it may eventually come to that. But for now, Miss Glow and I will be doing this our way."

"What do you mean?"

Spy stood up while aiming the revolver at Fizzlepop. "You're going to march into Tartarus, and Miss Glow is going to lock you in one of those cages. Miss Shadow will keep you company; the magic of Tartarus will undoubtedly do her good. Then, once I'm sure none of your feathered friends have circled back, Miss Glow and I will take our leave." He smiled at her. "You can try to look for us... but you won't find us."

She scoffed. "You think I'm going to just let you both go?"

"I think you have little choice. When someone finally lets you out - hopefully sooner than a thousand years - I'd suggest you start looking into ways to send me home, in case our own investigation is fruitless. You don't want someone like me hanging around Equestria, now do you?" The smile turned nasty. "After all... I know where you live. And where your friends live as well. Do bear that in mind."

She stared at him, horrified.

"Diplomacy," Cozy Glow noted.

"The very best kind," he agreed. He looked back at Twilight. "Now, be a good little pony, and go in the nice prison. You are supposed to be the smart one, I'm told."

"You're... you're terrible!"

"And observant as well, it seems."

"I can't just... just let you do whatever you want!" She didn't seem to know where to look, her gaze shifting from Spy to his weapon to Tempest to the great doors behind them. "I won't...!"

"...Sparkle..."

She immediately focused on the fallen mare. "Fizzlepop! Are you all right?"

"...I'm.... ugh. I'm fine. Just got a massive headache." She scowled up at Spy. "Jerk."

"Apologies," he said, with the barest fraction of sincerity.

"Don't worry," Twilight assured her. 'I'm going to get you out of this somehow. He's not going to get away with this."

"No, it's okay. Do what he says."

The princess stared at her friend. "Fizzlepop?"

With difficulty, Tempest pushed herself up. "Trust me on this, okay? He's doing what he needs to do." She glowered again. "He's being a real jerk about it, but he's not going to go around hurting anypony for no reason. Are you, Spy?"

It was his turn to scowl, though he said nothing.

"But what he said... he's some kind of monster!"

"Oh, he's a piece of work, all right. But I think I understand what he's about. Let 'em go. It'll be okay, I promise."

Twilight hesitated for a long moment... then sighed. "You'd better be right about this."

With a smile, Spy made a quick gesture toward Tartarus. "Miss Glow, please escort the princess to her new lodgings. Be sure to select a sturdy one."

The filly grinned maliciously. "You bet!" She took to the air and hovered over Twilight, who watched her with a sour expression. "Oh, this is going to be so satisfying...!"

And then everything went wrong.

A swirling pool of energy formed around Cozy Glow, and she stopped in mid-air, struggling against invisible bonds. "H-hey, what gives?!" She glared at Twilight. "Knock it off!"

"I-I'm not doing it!" Indeed, her horn remained dark.

"Miss Glow!" Spy abandoned his guarding of Tempest and hurried toward the filly. Twilight took the opportunity to teleport to Tempest's side and check on her.

The human was halfway there when a hand - a massive red hand - seemed to extrude directly from Cozy Glow's hide. She twisted her head in panic, trying to look at it. "What... what is that?!" she screamed.

"Cozy!" Spy leapt toward her, reaching out...

The hand extended on a muscled arm, then turned around on itself and grabbed the filly by the neck. In an instant, and in an eye-watering twist of topology, pulled her back through herself.

The light seemed to shift, and silence reigned.

The hand was gone. The energy was gone.

Spy fell to his knees.

Cozy Glow was gone.

My fish is sharp, my newspaper is read, my nose-ring is freshly polished; time to win.

It had, indeed, taken a while, but now Princess Twilight Sparkle was present in the Tourmaline Drawing Room, which also doubled as a library. (This was a modifier that could be applied to nearly every other room in the castle.) Tea had been served, and she held her cup and saucer in her field, sitting across from the young and mildly perplexed guard. The saucer rattled occasionally as she watched him with a fixed, nervous grin. "S-so," she said finally, "Fizzlepop wants me to go to Tartarus in the morning?"

The guard, who felt he would never get used to the intimidating figure of Tempest Shadow being referred to by her real name, nodded. "Yes, Princess. I'm not sure about all the details, but that's what she told me."

"Then it has to have something to do with Tirek or Cozy Glow," she deduced. "Or both. Could you tell me why you all went there in the first place, Flash?"

"Of course, I... wait. How did you know my name? I never said."

Her eyes went wide in panic. "Oh, you know," she said, with the quickness of desperation. "I... must have heard it while I was in Canterlot. City! Canterlot City! The city called Canterlot!" As he looked even more confused, she suddenly backtracked. "...not that there's any other place called Canterlot, of course! Because that would be ridiculous!" She laughed awkwardly and took a sip of tea so quickly the liquid almost flew out of the cup.

Flash peered at her, concerned. "Are you all right, Princess?"

"I'm fine! Perfectly fine. Nooooo problems whatsoever."

He started to speak, but was interrupted as Spike threw the door open and hurried to the alicorn's side, holding a scroll in one claw. "We got a response from the palace!" he told her, slightly unnecessarily.

Twilight took the scroll and unrolled it. "My Dearest Twilight," she read, "Please do not worry. Everything is fine. Sun will be lowered soon, and you need not worry about the delay. Everything is fine. There is nothing to worry about. Everything is perfectly normal and fine. Do not worry. Your mentor, Princess Celestia." She leaned her head back and stared at the scroll with an expression of acute doubt.

Flash leaned toward Spike. "Is that an alicorn thing?" he whispered. "To be really bad at pretending there isn't a problem?"

"Kind of," Spike said, "but honestly Celestia should've known better."

"Why?" the guard asked a bit nervously. He wasn't used to hearing his Princess referred to so informally.

"Wait for it..."

"Spike! We have to leave for Canterlot immediately! Celestia needs me!"

"Because that," the little dragon explained, then raised his voice. "Let's just calm down for a minute, okay, Twilight? Let's see what Mr. Sentry here can tell us."

The pegaus' gaze narrowed. "I didn't tell you my name either. Have you two been spying on me?"

"...oh. Um. That's not important right now."

"I disagree!"

"You're right, Spike," Twilight said, though Flash thought she said it a bit too quickly. "Please, sir? Do you think this has anything to do with Tartarus?"

He looked between them suspiciously for a moment, then sighed. He wasn't conditioned to argue with a Princess. "It might be," he admitted. "I don't know a lot about what's going on, but it started this morning. Word around the Palace is that Princess Luna was attacked in somepony's dream."

Twilight gasped, and Spike looked up at her. "Is that even possible?"

"I... I don't know! I've never even thought to ask Luna about that! Is she all right?"

"Apart from a massive headache, apparently. Princess Celestia thought it was related to a magic surge from the vicinity of Tartarus, and since Tempest was in town at the time, she was asked to go check on the prisoners. A flight of guards was sent along to bring her there by chariot."

"I guess that explains the Sun delay. Celestia probably wants to give Luna more time to rest, before she goes back to the Dream Realm. But... a magic surge..." Twilight fell silent, then took a slow breath of realization. "...of course. I should have thought of that."

Spike knew when to offer a feed line. "What is it?"

"Cozy Glow must have had some residual magic on her from the ritual she used. Tirek could have used that for something. He couldn't have absorbed it, but he does know a thing or two about spellcraft."

"I thought Tartarus was supposed to stop that kind of thing," the little dragon noted. "How was he able to take magic from Cozy Glow?"

She glanced at Flash. "Um... I think that's kind of a state secret."

He held up a hoof. "Don't worry about it, then. I understand."

"Thank you. Did Tempest say anything else?"

He nodded. "Before I left, she suggested that whoever attacked Princess Luna might have been inside Tirek's head or something." He scratched his head. "Honestly, it was kind of confusing, and I might not be repeating it right."

Twilight frowned in thought, but apparently wasn't able to decipher that statement either. "I guess I'll just have to see what's going on when I get there. But I think I'll go read up on Tartarus and double-check my notes on the new enchantments we put in, just in case."

"Do you think Fizzlepop will be all right until tomorrow?" Spike asked as she stood up. "I don't think she'd ask you to go unless she was worried."

"Well, she didn't say it was an emergency," she replied, "and really there's not much Tirek could do to her with his store of magic depleted."

Then she laughed at an absurd thought. "And it's not like she's going to sing to him or anything!"

Pegasus and dragon looked at each other uncomprehendingly as the alicorn trotted to a different library.

A half-eaten fish, a stained newspaper, and a handful of thistles.

The MannCo catalogue listed one of its available weapons as the "Holy Mackerel", which only gave Spy another reason to hunt down their marketing team. It was, in its own way, a marvel of design; though it appeared to be just a fish wrapped in a newspaper, the fish never decomposed, at least beyond a certain point. It carried with it an eternal faint stench of dead sealife, and being struck by it transferred a quantity of reeking slime to the victim. It was also surprisingly durable, in that if you tried to beat someone to death with a normal fish, you would expect the fish to fall apart before the target received significant damage, while the Mackerel could be slammed against skulls all day and, apart from getting strangely twisted at times, come out of it none the worse for wear. It was not, in fact, a very good weapon, but Scout still used it on occasion for its humiliation value.

Spy had sneered at the Holy Mackerel the first time he'd seen it, but not for the reason his team had assumed. For Spy had spent a lifetime learning the millions of different little ways to escort someone out of this vale of tears: from joining small and secretive assassin cults, to scaling mountains so he could study under ancient hermits retired from the world they had spent so much time making less populated, to delving deep within the Amazon jungle following rumors of the world's deadliest poisons, to simply maintaining a subscription to 'Youdunnit' magazine, he was always on the hunt for new techniques. He rarely needed his full repertoire of knowledge while working the Mann account, which did not greatly reward subtlety, but he continued to study the science - no, the art - of murder for its own sake.

And when he saw the Mackerel, all he could see was a waste of resources.

A half-eaten fish, a stained newspaper, and a handful of thistles.

It was amazing what you could do with everyday items, if you knew how.

"Tempest! Tempest!"

The purple mare looked up from the small bedroll she was setting up. "What is it, Cozy Glow?" she called.

"Come up here quick! Tirek's sick!"

Tempest stared straight ahead for a moment. Really? She'd thought better of them than to try the oldest trick in the book. "He'll get over it."

"No, honest! It looks really bad! Please hurry!"

There was just enough panic in the voice to make it almost believable, but she knew how manipulative the filly could be. Still, it's not like she had anything better to do; she didn't even have to worry about dinner, thanks to the magic of Tartarus. "Fine. I'm on my way." There was a nagging question at the back of her mind, but it had been a long and emotionally charged day, and she ignored it for now.

She trudged up the steps, heedless of Cozy Glow's frantic calls, until she reached the top. "Okay, okay. Let's see how 'sick' he is..."

Then she stopped. There was Tirek on the floor of his cage, panting heavily and looking much redder and larger than he'd been a mere hour before. And Tempest, one of the few ponies in Equestria who had never seen Tirek at his prime, was taken aback. "Oh, storm! What happened to him?!"

"I don't know!" Cozy Glow said, on the verge of tears. "He looked sick when I got back up here, then he just kept getting redder and more swollen! Maybe he's having an allergic reaction to the fish you got him!"

Tempest realized with a pang of guilt that he hadn't looked too good when she left him. But... this could still be a trick. She had to be sure.

Tempest slowly crept closer to the recumbent Tirek, wary of getting too close. "Hey, there, Tirek..." she said. "Feeling under the weather there?" Thirty hooflengths away, then twenty five.

He groaned loudly. She couldn't see his face from this position, and circled around as she drew closer. Twenty hooflengths.

"I think I've got some stomach medicine in my-" Then she stopped, fifteen hooflengths away, as the question she'd ignored finally made itself heard. "Wait. Wouldn't the spells on Tartarus-?"

It was a realization that came too late, as Spy deemed the distance to be close enough. He whipped his head up, treating the mare to the decidedly more fiendish and intimidating visage of a magic-enhanced Tirek. "Boo!" he said loudly.

To her credit, Tempest wasn't frightened, nor particularly surprised. But she did take an involuntary step back with a gasp, her mouth falling open...

In a flash, Spy brought a small rolled paper tube up to his mouth and blew into it sharply. Tempest had the briefest impression of movement through the air, then a painful sting at the back of her throat. After some oral gymnastics, she managed to spit out the offending object: a long, thin fish bone with the spike of a thistle wedged into one end. The tip of the spike was stained dark green.

"What the...?" she began. And then a wave of dizziness swept over her, and she stumbled on her hooves, tripping backwards and falling to the ground. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

The centaur watched her for a moment. "...oh, good. You're not dead. I wasn't sure of the dosage."

Tempest tried to lift her head, failed.

"No need to fret, my dear Fizzlepop. I have no intention of causing you permanent harm. Of course, I've never needed to use this particular concoction on a pony, so with this first dose I've erred on the side of caution. You'll recover in time."

"Fzzsh... slrrrf..."

"Precisely."

"Stop smugging at her and get to work!" Cozy Glow snapped.

"Ah. Yes. Of course." It was always embarrassing to be caught monologuing.

Standing up at his current size, he didn't quite fit in the cage, his newly grown hons adding an inch or two of extra height that made the difference. He slipped his head between the bars and squared up with his hooves firmly planted and his hands placed against the underside of the cage's roof, then took a deep breath and heaved.

Bending the bars enough to allow his escape would take far too much time and effort. He needed a more immediate solution.

He pushed until every vein on his borrowed body stood out and sweat ran from his temples, but the cage was extremely sturdy, possibly even magically so. Nevertheless, Spy was committed at this point; he had no choice but continue to try.

"She's coming around!" Cozy Glow shouted, and indeed Tempest was trying, with increasing success, to overcome the effects of the poison. She was breathing heavily and attempting to say something, but her vocal cords were still resisting control. "Hurry!"

Unfortunate. He'd underestimated pony physiology, then. "I'm trying!" he grunted.

"Do some damage to the bars!" she suggested. "Buck them hard!"

Even in that moment, he had to stop and look at her disapprovingly. "Miss Glow! Language."

"What?" She demonstrated, lashing out with her hind legs. "Just kick 'em!"

Oh. He twisted his head around and tried to take aim - not an easy task from this angle - then gripped the bars before him for leverage and kicked backwards. Two bars bent satisfactorily, and the wooden roof of the cage splintered as they shifted out of place. Another kick, and one of them popped free of its mooring; not nearly enough for him to escape, but definitely progress.

He grinned fiercely. Yes! A few more like that and he would be-

"NECTO!"

The cage glowed with a brief purple light, then one of the bars shifted under Spy's grasp. It disconnected itself from the cage floor, twisting and writhing in the wan light, a metal serpent, then began to wrap itself around his forearm. With an oath he pulled himself free, but then another bar coiled around one of his back legs. Two bars on each of the cage's sides had become living cables seeking a limb to restrain; enough to be a nuisance while still keeping the enclosure stable.

He heard Tempest's weak laugh; the previous shout had been hers, showing that she'd finally found her voice. She swayed on her hooves, but remained standing. "Do you think... they wouldn't have been... ready for this?" she asked haltingly. "Twilight... cued me in... to all of the new security measures." Tempest watched triumphantly as six of the bars secured Spy's limbs and two ensnared his barrel, returning to a solid form as they did so. He growled and pulled against them without success.

(She didn't see how he'd tensed his muscles, and more importantly didn't get a good look at his left hand...)

As he stood immobilized, struggling against his restraints, she took a few steps closer. "What the thunder was that, Tirek?!" she demanded. "I thought we had an understanding!"

"And I thought you'd heard me," he snarled. "I have no intention of cooperating with an agent of Celestia!"

"Stubborn as a donkey! And since when do you ever use poison?! Where did you even get it?"

He just scowled at her, tugging at his restraints.

She took an unsteady step closer, looking him up and down. "And I'm guessing this is what you look like after you've taken somepony's energy? How? Who?! Cozy Glow looks fine to me, and I know you didn't take mine!"

"I have no idea how this happened!"

"Don't give me that!" She struck his cage roughly with a forehoof in frustration, then once the vibrations died down leaned her head against one of the unchanged bars. "Why are you doing this? Is it because Twilight's coming? I know you hate her, but you could still use her to get what you want." She paused, and when she spoke again it was with a bone-weary tone in her voice. "I only want to help you two. Can't you trust me, just a little?"

Spy looked down at her and hesitated. Did the deception even matter anymore? Perhaps it was even a liability now; once someone decided based on the evidence that Tirek had been able to feed, the pursuit by the authorities would be relentless. And this was not a body designed for stealth, particularly as engorged as it was now.

To hell with it. If he was going to be a villain, he would be his own villain.

"What you're experiencing is a compound called Mariner's Deadline," he informed her, and Tempest shook her head briefly; now her ears weren't working properly either because his voice was all wrong. And Prench. "It was developed in 1697 by a crew of Caribbean pirate journalists using a combination of fish liver extract and dried printer's ink. A small amount disorients, more paralyzes, and even more... well, best not to talk about that. And I'm sure the name of that region means nothing to you - the equivalent in this world is probably 'Mareibbean' or something equally dreadful - but I do have so few chances to show off my knowledge of toxicology."

She lifted her head and stared at him, mouth falling open... until she remembered what had just happened and snapped it shut. "'This world'? What are you talking ab-" She stopped. "Oh, no, you're kidding me!"

Spy looked over at Cozy Glow. "By George, I do believe she's finally catching on." The filly looked at him a bit uncertainly, and he nodded to reassure her. The die is cast. "Yes, Miss Shadow. I am not Tirek. I was brought here from another dimension, against my will I might add."

"Then... you really are the thing that attacked Princess Luna?" Tempest asked incredulously

He managed an affronted look. "'Thing?' That's rather rude. You may call me Spy. And, for what it's worth... I didn't intend to cause her permanent harm, either. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She whirled to look at Cozy Glow. "And you knew about this all along?!"

"Obviously," the young pegasus said with a sneer. "We both messed up so much that I'm amazed you never caught on!"

Tempest rattled Spy's cage again. "What did you do to Tirek?!"

He scowled at her. "Pardon me? What did I do to him? I am the victim in this scenario, Miss Shadow, I assure you!"

"He's right," Cozy Glow said. "When Tirek tried that escape spell and got knocked out, Spy was in his body when he woke up. He had no idea about Tartarus or Equestria or... or anything! We think Tirek got sent to Spy's body in his own world."

Tempest groaned. "A magical switcheroo. Good grief. I'm not looking forward to explaining that to Celestia." She stared at him again. "Okay, but why? Why pretend to be Tirek all this time? I could've helped you!"

He returned her gaze levelly. "I believe I've made myself clear about how much I trust your Princess Celestia, have I not? That, at least, was no ruse." She looked away, unable to argue the point. "And now that we've got that straightened out, I'm sure you'll agree that holding me in captivity is thoroughly unjust and will let myself and the filly go free." His tone suggested that he didn't expect any of that to happen.

"Absolutely not. This is way above my pay grade. Not that I'm doing this for money. You're staying right there until Twilight gets here, whoever and whatever you are."

"I rather thought you'd say that. Well, Miss Shadow, what I am is a man of many talents..."

She frowned. "What's a 'man'?"

"...and you've experienced one of them: my skill in the poisoner's art." He leaned closer, as much as his restraints would allow. "Would you like to see another one?"

She did not follow suit, remaining where she was and watching him cautiously (although not, as it turned out, cautiously enough). "Oh, by all means."

"This one is called... escapology."

He relaxed his tensed forearms and swiftly slipped them out of the now-loose restraints, then lashed out at her with his left hand. She had been expecting something like this, and twisted backwards, but not quickly enough, her reactions slowed from the lingering poison. A streak of sudden pain ran along her neck, and a few drops of blood fell to the ground. It wasn't a deep cut, but it didn't need to be.

She looked up at Spy as a fresh wave of vertigo washed over her. Braided newspaper strips had been fashioned into a crude twine and wrapped around his hand, and a trio of sharpened fish bones, thin as needles, were secured to it with thistle stems. Two of the bones jutting out from the back of his hand gleamed with dark poison; the third had her blood on it.

"Double dose," he informed her, then turned his attention to the bars that had come alive again as she staggered back and fell to the floor once more. He snatched at them, taking one in each hand, and moved to tie them together. It turned out he didn't need to bother; they had only been given enough 'intelligence' to seek a target, wrap around it, and pull, and had not been given any friendly fire protocols. The two living restraints became entwined then began to tighten, putting even more stress on the damaged cage.

As he began to pull at the bars wrapped around his forelegs, however, a piercing whistle echoed through the cavern, Tempest's last action before control of her muscles escaped her. Down near the door, Cerberus lifted his head, then began to lope toward the stairs.

"Merde," he muttered. There was absolutely no chance that Mariner's Deadline would have any appreciable effect on the massive beast, and none of the other little tricks he'd devised to fight Tempest would do any better. He had come up with a plan for the hound, and it simply had no right to work. But if it didn't, it all ended here. "Miss Glow!"

"On it!"

When Cerberus reached the plateau, the three sets of eyes took in the centaur in his cage, the purple mare lying on the ground trying to stand, and...

"Here, boy! C'mon! You wanna play? You wanna treat?!"

...the little filly that he liked holding up a big bone in one hoof.

Spy wanted to think of it as an origami tibia, because that at least would distract him from what it really was: the majority of the newspaper carefully compressed and formed into a vaguely bone-like shape. Nothing with human-level (or, presumably, pony-level) intelligence would have been fooled for a moment.

Fortunately, the hound wasn't quite at that level; his tail began to wag, and he began making small eager hops in place, shaking the plateau. One of the heads seemed to have its doubts, but was outvoted by the other two, who had been starved for entertainment almost as long as Tirek.

"Go fetch!" Cozy Glow shouted, and hurled the thing over the edge. Cerberus immediately chased after it, dropping into the murky deaths below. It apparently wasn't as deep as Spy had assumed, because he heard the beast hit the ground very shortly after jumping; based on the stalagmites being tossed out of the pit as he searched for the newspaper, he was none the worse for wear and having a grand old time

"Fine job!" he called, then returned his attention to the bars restraining his forelegs. He was just strong enough to bend them open, and as he pulled free and they came to life, he added them to the growing tangle of metal in front of him. It was actually becoming difficult to maneuver with the knot of iron growing closer to the center of the cage, but he was sure he could manage it.

As he started to work on the bars holding his barrel, however, Cozy Glow yelled, "Look out!"

The was the sound of an impact upon metal, and he was jolted as his cage was suddenly thrust forward several yards, spinning gently as it went. After it stopped, he turned his head to see Tempest making her way slowly toward him. "I'm done withoo," she said with a just-visited-the-dentist slurring. "You go p'ay wif Ther... Thurbur... th' puppy." Standing at his flank, she gave the bars a small kick, rotating the cage around so that Spy was facing the edge of the plateau.

"You can't just kick him over!" Cozy Glow protested.

Tempest shook her head. "Iz fine! Tartrus majzhik will prtect him, an' den doggo can keep'n eye on'm til Thparkle geths here." She moved behind him and gave the cage a full buck; it actually skipped a time or two before sliding to a stop mere inches from the pit.

He twisted and turned as she stumbled behind him again, but with his back legs still bound he had no way to reach her. Desperately, he moved his front half as far as he could to the left, paused briefly to listen, then threw himself against the other side of the cage just as the mare was about to kick. It toppled over with a crash that shook him to his bones, leaving him half of him suspended in the air by the iron bars gripping his barrel and the other sprawled on yet more iron bars at floor level.

He managed to turn his head enough to see Tempest who, having missed her kick, was now flat against the ground and trying to pick herself up.

Spy wasted no time. It was more difficult from this position, but he was able to bend the two bars he could reach and add them to the tangle. The bars around his hind legs were quite simply out of his reach, and knowing what he did about horse legs he didn't feel yanking them free was worth the risk of two broken ankles.

No matter. The tangle was bringing results; the inexorable pull from multiple points along the cage's edges was causing the wooden surfaces to groan and crack. Something was going to give any moment now...

"Thuh... Theh..." There was a pause and a gulp, then: "CESSARE!"

Abruptly the tangle became untangled, and the bars returned to their former shape, neatly tucking themselves back into their sockets and dropping Spy to the ground. "No!" he snarled, his hopes for escape dashed.

Or were they? He was freed from his bindings now, the wood had been weakened and damaged, and he still had two poisoned needles to dissuade Tempest from-

And then the cage began to turn, and he realized that now the two wooden surfaces were perpendicular to the ground, so Tempest had cover enough to approach the cage without entering Spy's reach. He could crane his head around the corner just enough to spot her hindquarters as she reoriented the cage.

It wasn't easy for Tempest to move the cage with her head while under the effects of the poison, especially when she had to avoid moving so far to the side that Spy would be able to grapple her, as he was attempting to do with blind grabs. With considerable effort, she oriented it back toward the pit, took an exhausted breath... and a huge red fist burst through the wood and gripped her by the neck. As she struggled, Spy pulled her back roughly against the wood once, twice, thrice, until she slumped in his grasp, then he released her and withdrew his hand, only to replace it with the other. She was dimly aware of twin stings against her neck before disorientation descended once more.

Spy had to admit, brute strength had its uses. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Tempest was recovering from the poison remarkably quickly, though there were likely multiple reasons for this: poor ingredients, biological differences, her own prodigious strength and resilience, or just the nature of this bizarre world. All might be contributing to the fact that she could even still move after three-

There was a groan and what sounded like a curse as she started to stand once more.

-seven doses of Mariner's Deadline. And there seemed very few options open to him that weren't just delaying tactics.

A new thought occurred. It was a slim chance at best, but he'd been lucky on that front lately. He braced himself, held out his arms, and shouted, "Necto!"

Nothing happened.

"Necto! Necto, dammit!"

Nothing continued to happen, and he slumped helplessly. Of course. It had been unreasonable, even in this naive world, to think that the creature inside the cage would have been able to activate the security spells on the cage...

"Necto!"

The cage vibrated gently as the bars came alive again, and he looked at Cozy Glow in grateful surprise. When they made the cage, he realized, they thought Tirek would be the only prisoner capable of speech...

Spy quickly chose two of the squirming bars, one connected to the former floor and one at the opposite corner on the roof, wrapping them around his wrists and pulling them to him as tightly as he could, until the wood creaked. They turned back to iron, but that didn't matter. "Now!"

"Cessare!" the filly shouted.

The bars in his hands tried to retract and reset, but he wouldn't let go. Both centaur and enchanted metal pulled harder and harder until the wood shuddered, cracked, and...

There was a massive clash of metal striking metal, wood striking flesh, and then a patter of falling splinters. The two ponies stared at the floating cloud of sawdust, uncertain of the centaur's fate... until the laughter began. "Yes!" he crowed, raising a fist in the air as the cloud dispersed. "A half-eaten fish, a stained newspaper, a handful of thistles... and one incompetent cagemaker!" Spy trotted around the plateau a few times for the sheer joy of it, appearing not to notice the fragments of wood lodged in his hide or the bruises under the fur where iron bars had struck him. "Oh, it is good to stretch my legs! Even if they aren't technically mine."

"Spy!" He adjusted his course and moved to Cozy Glow's cage. "Are you okay? You've got a lot of... ouchies."

"I've had worse. Believe me. Besides, Tartarus provides, does it not?" Indeed, the bruises and abrasions were already starting to fade, and the splinters were, rather unnervingly, backing out of the wounds they had caused. "And thank you for your help, Miss Glow. That was wonderfully timed."

"I'm just glad it worked!" Then she looked past him. "Uh-oh. We're not out of the woods yet."

He turned to see Tempest Shadow standing up once more. The poison was at least having some residual effect, he noticed. Her jaw was hanging open unnaturally, causing unsightly drool, and a foreleg was slightly hitched. The paralytic effect making itself known, he surmised. There was nothing wrong with her eyes, though, which contained pure murder.

"Ooo, she looks mad," the filly noted.

"Yes, one of the side effects of Mariner's Deadline, I'm afraid. The victim tends toward increased irritability for some time afterwards." Assuming they live, he didn't add.

The mare took two unsteady yet determined steps toward him. While he watched, her own abrasions were fading away; as he'd feared, Tartarus was assisting her as well. This was another potential reason why the poison wasn't taking hold as he'd expected, though if so the magic seemed to only be able to do so much.

Cozy Glow eyed her approach nervously. "I don't think she needs any poison to be mad at you at this point."

"...a fair assessment. Give me the rest." It had been safer to leave them with the filly in case Tempest had searched his cage.

Cozy Glow slid a small paper-wrapped package to him. He pulled it apart, exposing three poison-tipped bone needles, which he held carefully in one hand. "Six more doses. That won't hurt her, will it? Like, forever?"

He regarded the purple mare. "All things considered, I think permanent damage is unlikely. She is, as my people say, healthy as a horse."

"That's weird, but okay. But will it stop her?"

"It had better. This is the last of the poison." That said, he selected one needle and readied it for striking, then advanced toward Tempest.

The purple mare glared at him as he grew nearer, and sparks of electricity began to coalesce around her broken horn. Spy slowed, watching it cautiously... but then the light faded abruptly and Tempest fell to three knees, panting heavily. "Yes," he said, resuming his approach. "The poison does make it difficult to concentrate, doesn't it? No, do stay down, Miss Shadow, I implore you."

She ignored him and tried to regain her hooves once more, was rewarded with a stabbing sensation in her neck and a fresh wave of vertigo.

He crouched as best he could and watched her, selecting another needle. "There's no shame in surrender at this point. You've fought commendably well, but you couldn't have known you were up against a trained assassin." Her breath caught, and he smiled thinly. "Ah. So that word does exist in Equestria. But not to worry. I have no interest in practicing my craft here. Unless someone... somepony forces my hand."

She glared up at him. One eye was stuck nearly closed. She managed two words, each coming on its own labored breath. "What... want?" With her mouth paralyzed as it was, the W sounds came out as long U's.

"Just let us leave. That's all. You know that neither of us belong here. Is keeping us really worth all this trouble?"

Tempest looked down for several seconds, then shook her head as roughly as she could. "Vronized!"

"You promised?" he translated. "A promise to Celestia? She's not-"

"No." She paused, and then: "Duilide."

His brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

"Twilight," Cozy Glow said quietly. "She promised Twilight Sparkle she'd help Celestia. And she doesn't want to disappoint her friend." Tempest attempted a weak nod.

Friendship again. How distasteful. "Yes, well. That's as may be, but it doesn't get us closer to resolving this problem. So," he added, moving the two remaining needles to one hand, "allow me to provide you with a fait accompli."

Tempest tried to twist away, but had no way of knowing where the impact was coming, and a pair of stings landed on her flank. "There we are. Nobody would ever blame you for not being able withstand a grand total of thirteen doses of otherworldly poison." He watched her as she slumped, still gasping for every breath. "It's over, Miss Shadow. Please do us all a favor and let it be over." Spy waited a moment longer, then reached for her collar. "And now, let's have that key, shall we?"

And then he paused. The breaths had become more defined, more forceful. They sounded like...

...laughter?

She lifted her head and aimed a one-eyed glare up at him. "Zvy."

He was not in the habit of saying, or even thinking, 'uh-oh', but this would be the time to start. "...yes?"

"Uand... zee... ny... dalend?"

Do you want to see my talent? A horrible sense of foreboding swept over him. "...no?" he suggested.

She laughed once, then her entire body tensed, she made an extended growl of effort...

...and her horn flared to life. Spy quickly backed up, watching for any attempt to aim a lightning blast in his direction, but instead it just kept happening, building and building until the electricity started pouring across her body in waves. Spy had never been exposed to the curse of anime, for all sorts of reasons, and so did not respond to the sight of someone screaming as energy lit up their entire body by jumping to certain conclusions. And he would have been wrong, anyway.

It didn't take long before Spy noticed the smoke rising from the mare's hide. No, not smoke - steam. Sweat was pouring off her and being evaporated by the pulses of lightning that continually washed over her. Froth, too, was rising on her flanks and ribcage, and though it was hard to notice amidst the light show, there was a definite greenish cast to it.

"...oh, no...!" Realizing what was happening and seeing no way to stop it, Spy took a few involuntary steps backward, and was halfway to Cozy Glow's cage when the electric display finally died.

And then, surrounded by a cloud of sickly vapor that was quickly dispersing, Tempest got to her hooves, panting heavily but with a smirk completely free of any trace of her former paralysis. She spat to the left, and the expectorated lump was the same dark and noxious shade of green as Mariner's Deadline.

"Now, I don't know what it's like where you come from, Spy," she said, wiping her mouth with a foreleg and taking a few steps closer, "but in Equestria we consider this to be a 'bad first impression'. Still, you were right about one thing: I am feeling pretty irritated right now." She stopped and moved into a ready stance, her horn shedding angry sparks. "But between you and me? I think I'm gonna feel a whole lot better in a few minutes."

Author's Note

Title reference

She frowned. "What's a 'man'?"

He threw a glass of wine at her hooves. "A miserable pile of secrets. But enough talk. Have at you!"