There had been a time, early in her ascension to power, when the Great and Powerful Trixie had engaged in all manner of physical pleasures. After all, why bother having resources if you’re not going to be a sensate now and then?

Such magnificent days, and such luxurious nights. The finest foods, the finest liquors, and of course the endless host of deliciously beautiful lovers at her beck and call...

But that had been at the beginning. And while she certainly did not reprove her past self for such extravagance, Trixie had long outgrown such petty concerns.

Now, the Alicorn Amulet was all she required.

She smiled to herself a secret smile, caressing her treasure. The setting was a cloak clasp, fashioned with her own hands from silver, years ago. It’d had a place for a gem in the middle, and at the time she’d had vague thoughts of using a crystal ball as its centerpiece. Of course, once jewelry class was done, she’d left it in a dresser drawer, forgotten.

But in retrospect, it was obvious that, on some level, she had known. That all her life, she’d always known. For once she’d joined the segments of the jewel together, the clasp had been a perfect fit. The mystical gem had been truly completed by the Great and Powerful Trixie, and the Alicorn Amulet had been born at last.

She had been waiting for the amulet all her life. And it, in turn, had been waiting for her.

The goddess smiled, levitating herself across the room in an exquisite green glow. Let Wallflower Blush find whatever solace she could in whatever arms would have her. Let the Children of Trixie glut themselves on food, or drink, or on whatever substances helped them feel, or remember, or forget.

For she was Trixie, the Great and Powerful. Unbeatable. Eternal. An enigma that no one could ever hope to truly know or understand. And she required nothing but the green, glowing gem that sang to her in her dreams.

Her power carried her across her sanctum, emaciated bare feet never touching the ground, billowing cloak fanning out behind her. There her altar waited; a small shrine of self-worship, devoted to her own ever-growing power.

The five candles along the altar’s edge flared to life at her approach with brilliant emerald flame. With but a gesture, a bowl of engraved silver floated before her. Meanwhile, a drawer opened, a single lock of hair gliding along the currents of her will to hover over the bowl.

A decanter floated by, tilting downward, its contents emptying in an artistic swirl. The water circled above the bowl once, twice, thrice, then poured itself into it.

The smell of brine reached her nostrils, and the Great and Powerful Trixie allowed herself a superior smile. Gabby had always said he’d liked the ocean.

Gabby Driver hit his signal as he screeched across three lanes, taking the I-435 South exit. If the Loop was a letter Q, with the circle containing most of the city, then this exit was the tail. It led further inland, away from Canterlot and the coast, away from the madness and death of Trixie and the fucking crazy-ass cult that surrounded her.

Shoulda done this months ago, he thought. Hell, shoulda done this soon as I saw the crazy bitch. Shoulda seen the cult, seen the crazy, cut and fucking run.

But the money had talked, his brain had shut off, and he’d said yes.

Stupid, he seethed at himself silently, weaving through traffic, balancing the brake and gas as he followed the curve, following the highway east.

Stupid, greedy, fucking asshole!

The money. The broads. The feeling of power. Trixie had put him in charge of more and more of her operations, and man, it had been just fucking awesome, every step of the way.

And then, the knock on his door. Wallflower. Acting all sad and shit, like she was sorry about it.

Bullshit. As soon as he’d seen her there, he’d known. He knew she’d always hated him. Her and all the rest. She might even have been the one to turn Trixie against him.

Probably was, he thought with gritted teeth. Couldn’t wait. Couldn’t fucking wait! Probably started putting a target on my back when I first come onto her, months ago. Fucking bitch. Turned me down, humiliated me, then probably laughed her green ass off when the time came, wherever she’d vanished to.

But that didn’t matter. He’d gone over the van himself, regularly, ever since he’d first been jumped in. So he knew it was clean: no transmitters, no bombs, nothing. That just left assassins, and even fanatics had their limits.

So, whatever Trixie had in mind for him, no way was it following him all the way to Manehattan.

All he had to do was get there, where she couldn’t reach. Just fucking get there!

His rear-view mirror showed red and blue lights in the distance. Highway patrol? he thought. No, that’s Canterlot. Hot pursuit out of town, ready to send in the choppers if things get too hairy. But that’s no problem.

He’d taken valuable minutes grabbing a case, filling it with money and merchandise. He’d felt stupid at the time. But now, of course, that meant he had bribe money. Even if the cops did bother to keep chasing and pull him over, a briefcase of hundred-dollar bills should make everything okay.

Unless they were in on it, of course.

After all, the whole time he’d been packing, even when he’d run out to the van, the other Children had been just grinning. Gloating. Like they knew something he didn’t.

Yeah, you betrayed the goddess! One of them had called after him, laughing as he’d run. So that’s your ass, I guess!

And now…

Fucking green bitch, he thought furiously as he cut off a sedan and floored the gas again. You sold me out, didn’t you, you fucking cunt?!?

Women were trouble, of course. Any fool knew that. And while the warm colors were bad enough, cold colors were the fucking worst. Green, purple…

And most of all, blue.

The goddess held her gaunt hand above the hovering lock of hair, palm up.

She turned her hand, palm down.

The lock fell into the bowl and dissolved away.

Then, the water itself shrank and was gone, as if drunk by some invisible demon’s proboscis.

“Good-bye, Mister Driver.”

Then the candles extinguished, leaving the room drenched in shadows, writhing as always in the green glow of her power.

The next curve was a sharp one, and Gabby did a quick heel-toe, expertly rounding it with room to spare. He was about to hit the accelerator again when the taste came up. Briney, like sea water.

He had just enough time to frown, automatically try to figure out what he might have eaten or drank to bring that taste back up. Then, his mouth filled with water, his lungs seized. He coughed, choked, saltwater spraying the dashboard.

Gabby hit the brakes, clutching at his chest. Seconds later the van careened off another turn. It bounced down the long incline below the interstate, turning, rolling, and finally settling on its side at the bottom, the white airbag deploying during the process with a firecracker sound he never heard.

Rainbow Dash reached him as the van started going over the embankment. Matching the vehicle’s speed, she carefully pulled the door open, cut his seatbelt and pulled him out as he struggled and thrashed in slow motion, water spraying everywhere.

Wait, water?

She followed the van down, avoiding sudden turns, slowing her momentum carefully. Sunset had let her read her comic book collection back in high school, and the death of Gwen Stacy had always stayed with her.

To the untrained eye, she came to a fast stop. But in actuality her speed was in absolute control. She followed the van, circled around it once, then put her prisoner on the ground. She let time flow close to normal then, maybe half speed just in case he pulled a gun or something…

…then, she froze.

For a valuable fraction of a second, Rainbow Dash could only stare in horror, the slow-motion effect making the scene even more awful: Gabby, sluggishly writhing and spasming before her, his limbs windmilling wildly as salt water sprayed from his mouth and nose while he choked and struggled to breathe, eyes wide and frantic.

Quickly, Rainbow Dash grabbed the drug dealer, flipped him over, compressed his lungs from behind. Water spewed everywhere.

She flipped him onto his back. Started CPR. More water, salt water, somehow spraying from his mouth like he’d just been in the ocean, instead of driving at high speed into the land-locked states.

As fast as she dared, Rainbow Dash rolled him over onto his side and lay behind him. Compressed his lungs. Waited for him to inhale. Compressed again.

More water. An impossible amount. Cups. Liters. More.

Urgently, she rolled him onto his back as he fought and bucked. Tried to give him mouth to mouth. But the air couldn’t go in. His lungs were, impossibly, still full.

Gabby continued to spasm as she rolled him onto his side again. He clawed at her desperately, his eyes pleading and filled with terror, saltwater spraying everywhere. And then, he shuddered. His eyes grew dim, and he went still, his hands falling to the ground.

And even then, while Rainbow Dash knelt helplessly beside his corpse, eyes screwed shut, water continued to flood impossibly out from his mouth and nose. It flowed quickly out across his face and hair, soaking into the ground beneath him, filling the area with the smell of the sea.

Twilight’s eyes grew wide as the sounds of choking, flailing, and struggle came in through her earpieces. She glanced out towards the highway, calculating the exact direction she would need to take to get to her friend’s position along the highway’s route.

“Rainbow Dash? What’s going on? Do you need backup?”

More choking. Then, the sounds of struggle stopped.

“Oh my god, I’m on my way…!” Twilight gasped, already surrounding herself with her magic.

A few seconds later, Rainbow Dash’s voice came over their connection.

“He’s dead.”

Twilight froze in the sky, bewildered. “What?”

“Gabby’s dead.”

“What? What happened?”

“I dunno! He just... he just fucking drowned!”

Looking around herself for helicopters, Twilight sought cover in the clouds. “He... wait, he what...?”

“God dammit, Twilight, he fucking drowned!” Rainbow Dash cried, her voice cracking. “I mean, one minute he’s driving, the next he’s choking, and he’s coughing up fucking salt water! His van just does a fucking Dukes of Hazzard right off the turn, and I get him out, and he... he...!”

“Rainbow Dash, are you okay?”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking okay?!?”

Twilight closed her eyes. “No. I’m sorry.”

Rainbow Dash swallowed, coughed.

“I’m sorry, too,” she managed. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just, I mean, we’ve both seen some shit, but this, I mean he was still fighting, and I tried to empty his lungs, but the water, it just kept coming, and it’s still coming, and it just keeps fucking coming...!”

“Rainbow Dash...”

“What the fuck are we dealing with, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash screamed. “You’re the big brain here, what the fuck is going on? I mean, that’s like one of the worst ways to go, and Trixie what, gave him warning? Told him to run? What, she wanted him to go out tortured and scared? I mean, he was fighting, clawing at me, and, and, what the fuck, man? What the fuck?!?”

Her voice failed her. Twilight waited, silent.

“I couldn’t save him, Twilight,” Rainbow choked out at last. “I tried. I swear to God, I tried... I...!”

“I know you did,” came Twilight’s gentle reply. “But there’s nothing you could have done.”

“But—”

“Rainbow, I know you. If you could have saved him, he’d be alive right now. Now, listen to me. Are you there?”

After a pause, Twilight repeated, “Rainbow Dash, are you there.”

The reply was barely audible. “Yeah.”

“Then listen to me. There’s nothing you could have done. Do you hear me? This is not your fault! There’s nothing you or anyone else could have done to save him!”

Rainbow Dash sighed, still crouching by the staring, brine-soaked corpse.

Twilight’s voice broke in again, insistent. “Rainbow, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow croaked. “Yeah, I’m listening.”

“Okay. Then I need you to go. The police are on their way. Get out of there before they show.”

Silence.

Frowning, Twilight asked, “Rainbow?”

More silence.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” came the reply. “I can do this. I just needed some time is all. I’m good.”

“Rainbow, you don’t—”

“Gabby had his cell phone on him,” Rainbow Dash interrupted, just a little too loud. “It might have something we can use. And I emptied the glove box, just in case there was something there.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I fucking do, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said through gritted teeth. “Nobody needs to die like that. We’re stopping this. Period.”

“Okay,” Twilight said quietly. “Okay. I hear you.”

Lowering herself below the clouds again, Twilight glanced back at the smirking gangsters gathered in the parking lot, all still joking and laughing. Then, she looked out towards Rainbow Dash’s position.

Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash stood, listening to the sirens’ distant approach. She gave one last, long look at the body. It lay on its side, face still contorted with horror. Sea water still flowed freely from its mouth and its nose, and now even wept out from its eyes.

Reaching up, she momentarily clicked off her earpiece’s microphone.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know how you got here, or why. But I’m sorry.”

Far above, Twilight Sparkle watched Canterlot spread out below her like a great carpet. In the distance, she could see the flashing lights of the police, rapidly approaching Rainbow’s location.

“Hey,” she said.

Rainbow clicked the mic back on. “Yeah?”

“They’re about to crest that rise. Do you need more time? I might be able to distract them.”

Rainbow Dash took in a long breath, then released it.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m done.”

“Okay. Then let’s go home.”

Rainbow Dash took one last look at the body of the man who, not long ago, had fired at her with a machine gun on a fucking college campus. Shook her head.

Then she was gone in a streak of multicolored light, leaving what was left of Gabby Driver to the care of Canterlot’s Finest.

Author's Note

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Closing Credits: In the Air Tonight, by Phil Collins.