Two Generations Past

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Crab Apple buried his face in his pillow. Then he looked up at the window—it was pitch black outside.

He was used to getting up early, but this early?

The earth pony buried his face back in the pillow.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK--

“Alright!” he shouted. He rolled over off his straw cot and staggered out of his room, down the stairs. Smith was asleep right now, and she didn't wake easily. Though he hated to admit it, Crab knew his mother was getting on in years.

He padded over to the door, and peered out the window.

Two askew golden eyes stared back at him.

Crab sighed, and unbolted the door. He opened it. “Dizzy? Aren't you stayin' with your folks toni--”

“Listen-Crab-I-know-you're-really-tired-and-you-stayed-up-late-packing-so-you're-really-tired-but-please-I-just-need-to--”

Crab Apple put his hoof over his eyes. “Dizzy. Come inside. It's frigid out.”

The agitated pegasus trotted inside, and Crab shut the door behind her. She stood there, tapping her hooves, watching her boss.

“C'mon.” Crab led Dizzy to the little table he, Smith and Dizzy normally dined at. Dizzy looked like she wanted to stay standing, but he pushed her into a chair. “Sit. Quit tappin'. I'll get some cider. What's wrong?”

Dizzy took a deep breath. Crab put up a hoof as he started to turn to the cider barrel. “Don't say it all too quick. It's real early in the mornin', Dizzy. My head ain't really goin' topnotch.”

He turned and began filling a cup.

Dizzy hesitated. “Um...”

“G'wan.” Crab set the cup before Dizzy, and the pegasus took an awkward sip. “What's botherin' you?”

“I...I'm worried 'bout the trip, Crab.” Dizzy took another sip.

“What, the thing tomorrow?”

“Uh, no,” Dizzy said hesitantly, “the other trip.”

Crab blinked. “Was that sarcasm, Dizzy?”

“Yeah,” Dizzy muttered, “sorry. Been talking to Smoky a lot.”

“Don't tell me y'been tryin' to get reassurance from Smoky 'bout this. She's got her heart in the right place, Dizzy, but she's not got that sense that tells her when to shut up an' when somepony needs comfortin'.”

Dizzy shook her head. “No...she's just been telling me what Canterlot's like. Like how snobby they can be. How little they think of those from Ponyville.”

“Ha!” Crab laughed shortly. “Nah, Dizzy. Canterlot's almost as new as Ponyville. They was just gettin' properly established when Smith was young, remember?”

“But--”

“Now, it's true,” Crab went on, rolling his eyes as he poured himself his own cup of cider, “some of 'em think they've got call to act 'better' just 'cause the Princess lives there. But that's all rot-talk, an' we all know it. They've got Celestia, we've got Smith--” Crab chuckled, “--so I'd call it even, right?”

Dizzy smiled slightly. “I'd really like to see the sights there.”

“Then y'should, Dizzy!” Crab grinned as he sat down beside Dizzy. “It was right nice o'Basalteus to invite us on this li'l trip. He doesn't make 'em often. He generally just stacks those rocks until he gets someone in'erested in buyin'. But these fellas, these Diamond Dogs, they seem like they might be a permanent customer, see? So Basalteus's goin' out to meet 'em.”

“Yeah, I know all that,” Dizzy muttered. “Smoky explained it.”

“Now, Dizzy,” Crab said, “I ain't gonna say y'gotta go, or y'gotta sightsee. But I think y'should. There's a lot o' neat stuff over there.”

He nudged Dizzy. “C'mon. Don't let a buncha snobs ruin the place for you. That's what they want.”

Dizzy hesitated. Then she nodded, her smile growing. “Well, okay, then.”

“There y'go.” Crab patted Dizzy on the back as he finished his cider. “Now, g'wan back an' get some sleep before the sun rises.”

Dizzy nodded and trotted out.

Crab watched her leave, smiling. Then his smile faded, and he sighed.

“Since Celestia knows I ain't gonna...” he muttered.

Though Canterlot was still a young city, it was definitely a thriving one.

The marketplace was packed. Basalteus and Crab Apple were having trouble pulling the cart through the crowd.

It didn't help that the cart was full of rocks, of course.

Dizzy and Smoky trotted to the side, seeing the sights. Smoky had already been here, of course, but that had been years ago. And Dizzy's eyes were wider than Crab had seen them in quite a while—she'd even managed to straighten them.

Crab was starting to wonder if they were just going to pull the cart all the way through the city when he spotted a trio of massive Diamond Dogs heading their way. He and Basalteus stopped as the Dogs closed in.

The smallest one addressed Basalteus in a high-pitched, screechy voice. “You have the rocks, then?” he rasped.

“We have, sir Rovelk.” Basalteus nodded curtly. “It is a fine crop this year. Whatever you seek to do with them--”

“We seek gems, of course!” the biggest Dog growled. Despite his angry tone, he appeared quite pleased. “Theft does not suit us, little pony, and mining is far too much work!”

“We are go-betweens!” the second-largest Dog shrieked. “We buy the rocks, find which ones are geodes, and sell those which are not to the mortar companies! And we use the money from that to have the geodes refined, and we sell those! No tiresome mining, no nasty violence or theft of rightful property!”

Basalteus didn't miss a beat in nodding. “This makes perfect sense,” he said slowly. “I am pleased that you are not employing the crop in illegal activities.”

“Oh,” Rovelk hissed, “we wouldn't dream of it! We don't--”

Crab tuned out the conversation as he realized that the group was being watched.

There was a tiny little cloaked creature lurking under a nearby stall, watching Basalteus intently. Crab blinked. All he could see of the thing were two glittering golden eyes.

Then, the figure realized it had been seen. With a glare, it turned and scampered off.

Crab hesitated. Then, deciding Basalteus had the deal under control, he gave chase.

Dizzy watched Crab run off, frowning. “Where's he going?”

“Hm?” Smoky glanced over. “Ah. Smok—I'm not sure.”

Dizzy considered it a moment. Then, shrugging, she took to the air. “Well, I'm going to see the sights! Back later!”

Smoky nodded, smiling as the pegasus flew off.

The unicorn glanced back at Basalteus. He and the Dogs were just wrapping up the deal.

“Excellent!” Rovelk said. “One hundred bits for the lot!”

“Then we are agreed.”

Basalteus extended his hoof, and the Diamond Dog shook it hard enough to shake Basalteus as well. “Excellent! Come on, boys!”

The three Diamond Dogs tossed the bag to Basalteus, grabbed the cart, and sped off.

Smoky frowned. “Is the bag--”

“It is.” Basalteus was already looking inside. “Legitimate, that is to say. I would not have come had I not trusted this lot somewhat.”

Smoky smirked. “And you wouldn't have brought us if you had not worried.”

Basalteus shrugged. He set the bag down and looked around. “Where have the others gone?”

Smoky shrugged as well, glancing about. “The honourable Crab has run off, though I know not why. And Dizzy had been waiting some time to depart.”

“I see. Well, they were not brought solely to guard. They are here to enjoy themselves as well, and they are free to do so.” Basalteus frowned. “Though I will admit I had not expected Crab Apple to depart so suddenly. Perhaps something came up requiring his attention?”

Smoky considered it, feeling mildly concerned. “You have a point, Basalteus! It is beyond his character to leave without making a note of it. Something fell may have occurred.”

“I would not assume such, but perhaps--” Basalteus glanced down. “There is a problem.”

Smoky followed his gaze. “Oh, dear! This is indeed a...bother.”

The bag was gone.

Dizzy flew through the skies above Canterlot, laughing. The air was so clean up here!

I'd never say it to the Apples, but really, this is where a pegasus belongs! Not fumbling over apple trees, or fumbling over tree roots, or fumbling over—wow, so this is what it feels like to really be high up!

Dizzy had never flown especially high. Ponyville was in a sort of valley, so going too high was extremely hazardous. But Canterlot was placed on a mountain. It was already high. Everything was crisp, and cold, and clear.

Dizzy did an impromptu—and admittedly somewhat accidental—barrel roll, then spotted another pegasus higher up. Finding herself eager to share the experience with somepony, Dizzy flew up towards them. “Hey!”

The other pegasus—a cyan mare with a strange rainbow-colored mane--glanced over. “Oh, hey.”

Dizzy rose level with her fellow flier, smiling brightly. “Just wanted to say hi. How's it going?”

“Eh...” The oddly-colored pegasus frowned, peering at Dizzy. “What's up with your eyes?”

Dizzy blinked, then flushed. “Oh, um...that's, uh, a situational anomaly.”

“A what?”

“It's a, um, unusual configuration,” Dizzy muttered.

“Huh.” The pegasus considered Dizzy for a moment. “Name's Prism Dash. Top flier in Equestria.”

“Oh!” Dizzy extended her hoof to shake. “It's great to meet you, Prism! I'm Dizzy.”

Prism eyed the hoof, then shook it, smirking. “Hey, you wanna go on a little race?”

Dizzy blinked. “A race?”

“Yeah.” Prism rolled her eyes. “You know. A race. We both fly, I fly faster, I win. Sound fun?”

“Um...not really especially so.” Dizzy looked at her hooves nervously. She had a bad feeling about this.

“Alright, then.” Prism grinned. “How about I show you my new trick?”

“Oh.” Dizzy nodded, smiling slightly. “Okay, then.”

She didn't much like this rude and competitive pegasus. But it seemed polite to humour her. Besides, Dizzy had never seen any aerial stunts before.

Dizzy had no sooner spoken than Prism took off. She began flying in a circle. At first, it looked a bit silly.

Then, it started to speed up.

Dizzy was having trouble keeping up. She turned around, trying to keep track of Prism as the pegasus circled around Dizzy.

She stopped. Uh-oh.

She started to feel winds tugging at her. Prism was creating a small cyclone around her. “Prism!” she shouted.

She couldn't see Prism Dash now, only a rainbow blue. But she heard a distorted laugh through the roar of the winds.

“Uh-oh.” Dizzy tried to fly down, but the winds buffeted her about, keeping her contained. She was starting to spin involuntarily.

She was having trouble even maintaining her flight now. Her wings felt useless, as if she was trying to fly underwater.

“Prism!” she shouted. “Stop!”

Now she couldn't even hear laughter.

She'd totally lost control now. She was instead just trying not to pass out. She was spinning around in the miniature tornado, going faster and faster and faster--

Then she saw Prism exit the tornado, laughing. “Cool trick, right?”

“Prism!” Dizzy cried. “Come ba--”

The winds were beginning to slow down. Dizzy couldn't muster the energy to fly—she felt like she was about to throw up.

She saw Prism flying off. “Shoulda raced, huh?”

Dizzy tried vaguely to flap her wings, but just that small effort nearly made her pass out.

Then she was falling...

Crab ran through the crowded marketplace after the little cloaked figure. Whatever it was, it was fast, but it seemed unaccustomed to urban sprawls—even young ones.

Then again, so was Crab.

He narrowly avoided running into a violet pony with blue goggles, and spotted the figure running up to the door of some mansion and scampering inside.

Crab pursued, and nearly ran into the door as it slammed shut.

Crab frowned, then knocked.

A weary-looking doormare answered. “Yes?”

Crab hesitated. A simple farmer, trying to enter the home of some doubtless important noblepony in pursuit of something that might have been watching his friend?

“Did a little two-legged thing just--”

“Yeah.” The mare opened the door, and gestured for Crab to enter. “His 'majesty' is expecting you.” She rolled her eyes.

Crab blinked, then entered the lavishly carpeted foyer. “Um...”

“I dunno why, no. But bit of advice?” The unicorn mare leaned in. “Master ben't the trustworthiest, if y'hear me. Careful 'round that'un.”

Crab frowned. “I...thanks, I s'pose.”

“Right this way.” The doormare turned and led Crab down the hall. Not only was the blue carpet clearly expensive—Crab had an inkling how hard blue dye was to come by—but the tapestries on the wall, all done in a slightly 'blued' hue, were extremely intricate.

They all depicted generations of clearly related stallions—all with yellow manes and white coats—defeating various foes. Marked beneath them were nameplates. The nameplates didn't identify what was happening in the tapestries, only the identities of the central characters.

FREDERICK BLUEBLOOD I

SIR BLUEBLOOD II

LORD BLUEBLOOD IV

BARON BLUEBLOOD VII

DUKE BLUEBLOOD XIV

Crab eyed the latter, at the end of the hall. Given the increase in quality, it was probably the most recent member of the family. The stallion depicted within, staring down some strange shadowy canine creature, looked exactly like all the ones previous.

“Admiring my tapestry? Not a surprise. It certainly stands out.”

Crab turned. The stallion from the tapestries—or from the latest one, Duke Blueblood the Fourteenth—was approaching.

Blueblood nodded curtly. “Come with me, orchard tender. I have a deal you would do well to hear.”

Dizzy found she'd stopped falling.

She opened her eyes. A faint blue aura surrounded her.

“I say, are you alright?” The accent was distinctly of Canterlot.

Dizzy twisted, and the aura vanished. She landed on the cobblestone street, and stared at her benefactor.

A middle-aged white stallion unicorn, with blue hair, a well-kept blue goatee, and a fine monocle-and-tophat ensemble.

“Um...yeah, I'm fine.” Dizzy scratched her heads. “Just...”

“Are you certain? Did you hit your head?”

Dizzy blinked, then groaned. “No,” she muttered, “my eyes are always like that.”

“Oh, I see. Dreadfully sorry. Why did you fall?”

“This...pegasus...”

The unicorn cocked his head. “Tell you what. My home is right nearby. Why don't you explain the problem over a spot of tea?”

“I...alright, then.” Dizzy smiled nervously. “Seeing as you just salvaged my life an' all.” She winced. She was pretty sure 'salvaged' wasn't meant to be used that way.

What was tea, anyways?

“You see, orchard tender,” Duke Blueblood said, reclining in his chair, “those Diamond Dogs are fugitives from...” He paused, clearly weighing his words, “...their law. I have an interest in seeing them apprehended.”

“That so?” Crab sat straight up in his much smaller chair, leaning on the table. He knew this was driving Blueblood insane, but the unicorn wouldn't stop calling him 'orchard tender'.

“It is.” Blueblood scowled. “I happen to own stock in a competitor gem-gathering...company. But even if I did not, I would still be doing my best to help catch those flea-bitten mongrels.”

“That right?”

“You can help me, Crab Apple. All I need you to do is tell me what those Diamond Dogs are planning to do with those worthless stones.”

Crab considered it. On the one hand, these were criminals, according to this foppish fool. On the other, they were also Basalteus's employers. Besides, the Dogs hadn't actually seen too bad. Perhaps they were seeking a new life.

Or perhaps they were murderers. Crab couldn't know. All he knew was all he could take into account. “So you want me to tell you their plans?”

“Yes. Tell me what those Diamond Dogs are up to, and I can give you...” Blueblood considered it. “...quite a sizable sum.”

“Quite a sizable stock, then.”

Blueblood's scowl deepened.

Smoky and Basalteus looked around in the crowded marketplace. “Do you see anything of note, Ms. Mirror?”

Smoky shook her head. “I am afraid I do not. It seems our verminous vandal took the bag from right under our noses. I see nothing of suspicion in this thinning throng!”

Basalteus frowned. “Our attention was diverted from it for a mere moment. This does not seem possible. Unless something from the ground...” He stopped. “The Diamond Dogs.”

“Perhaps! Or,” Smoky said slowly, “it was the work of witchcraft!” She coughed. “By which I mean, magic. Witchcraft is about as real as curses.”

Basalteus was unaffected. “If it was magic, the bag could be long gone. It most likely is.”

“Something of that size would require substantial power for a remote teleport!” Smoky grinned manically. “I, the Mighty and Fearsome Smoky Mirror, can detect such power! I know a spell for it!”

Basalteus considered it. “There is no reason not to give it investigation. Go ahead, Ms. Mirror.”

Smoky nodded, already casting the spell.

Basalteus saw her blink out of existence.

No, wait. She was there. He could see the faint lines. But otherwise, she had effectively--

Smoky Mirror blinked back into existence. “Ugh. Magic sight makes everything so strange. You looked like a whale.”

“What is a--”

“A tremendous demon of the sea.” Smoky waved a hoof. “No matter. It was teleported, and I saw the destination. And I saw the caster. Come, Basalteus! We must right this wrong!”

The unicorn took off. Sighing, Basalteus followed.

“So,” the unicorn said to Dizzy, “who was it that caused you to fall?”

His name, Dizzy had learned, was White Collar. His home was very large, but the size was concealed—a large portion of the space was being rented out to Canterlot Castle, as temporary housing for some recently-uncovered artifacts.

Currently, Dizzy and White Collar were in a small dining room, accompanied by a very serious-looking butler.

“Just...some pegasus,” Dizzy muttered. “She wanted to show me a 'trick'.”

“Ah.” White Collar nodded, taking a tip of tea. Dizzy didn't much like the stuff, but there were also scones, and these she did like. “A bully, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” White Collar raised an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do about it?”

Dizzy shrugged.

“What is that for an answer, chap?”

Dizzy sighed, looking at her scone. “I don't know. I mean, I can't go in the sky. She'll give me more trouble. And I ain't as good a flier as her, not nearly. I was really lookin' forward to flying up there.”

“Then why don't you?”

Dizzy scowled. “I just told you. She'll knock me out of the air. She's a better flier. What am I meant to do to her?”

“Come now!” White Collar smiled. “Cheerio. There's always a weak spot! You've just got to look for it. She may be a good flier, but what are you good at?”

Dizzy closed her eyes and muttered.

“Sorry, what's that?

“Dropping stuff,” she said quietly.

“Ah! Quite a useful talent, I'd say. Good show!”

Dizzy looked up, blinking. “Did you hear me, Mr. Collar?”

“Please, White Collar is my first name. My last name--”

“Sorry, whatever, did you hear me? I didn't say 'docking toughs', or 'topping fluff'. I said dropping stuff. Did you hear me?”

“Ah, that I did!” White Collar adjusted his monocle. “And I say, I can only imagine how often it comes in handy. How exactly does it work?”

“Um...” Dizzy considered. “Well, I can tell when and where stuff falls. Mostly means I'm good at catchin' what I lose, see? But then I drop it again. An' closer it gets to the ground, less well my hypotheses tend to operate.”

“Ah!” White Collar smiled. “Well, Miss Dizzy, I can only tell you that you need to jolly well stick up for yourself. You'll regret it later if you don't. As for how you'll handle it if this 'Prism Dash' proves even more a cad than I had suspected...well, I can advise you there, but I think you'll find that you have plenty of ways to handle her.” White Collar levitated his cup and took another sip.

“I...” Dizzy paused. “Actually, yeah, I think I've got a notion.” She took another nibble of her scone. “I don't s'pose you could help me out a bit with the, uh, schematics of the process?”

White Collar seemed to consider it. “Well...I do have a prior appointment.” He smiled brightly again. “No matter. As long as this doesn't take too long, old girl, and I don't imagine it shall!”

Crab frowned at Blueblood. “So, you want to know what those Diamond Dogs're up to.”

“Of course.” Duke Blueblood sniffed. “What else?”

“Hm. An' exactly what're they fugitives for?”

Blueblood stared. “As if it matters--”

“Listen,” Crab snapped. “I ain't makin' any business decisions 'til I got the facts. An' it's plain as day that you ain't being up-front with--”

“Enough.”

Blueblood and Crab both turned. Creeping through the door—Crab hadn't heard it open—was the little figure from earlier. He saw now that it was a small terrier-like Diamond Dog, with shining amber eyes. There were several little knives at the Dog's belt, Crab noticed.

“Otis,” Blueblood said stiffly. “I had thought I made it clear--”

“You are not getting it done,” Otis hissed. The little Diamond Dog scurried up to Crab. “They will notice me if I get near.”

Crab was not surprised—the sneaky creature's stench made his eyes water. This thing had been some very unpleasant places. Crab wasn't sure he wanted to know why he could smell carrion—or why Otis had a little spade at his belt beside the daggers.

“I need,” Otis growled, “to know their plans. I cannot follow them without being detected, and if they learn they're being watched, it shall all be ruined. All I need is a snippet. A general clue as to where they will go next.”

Crab frowned. “Why're you so keen on catching those three?”

“Those three have broken laws,” Otis whispered. “It must be addressed. If the reptilian pony with the fancy cloths cannot help me, I will not bother with a middle-pony. You will help me. What is Rovelk up to, little hat-wearing pony? Where is he going? You will tell me.”

“Are you certain?” Basalteus asked.

“I am!” Smoky Mirror glanced back at Basalteus, smiling a bit too wide. “The trail ended here! Wherever our thief has gone, she is no longer casting--”

“Which means she is no longer levitating the bag,” Basalteus finished. “Meaning she must have set it down.” He looked around the dark alleyway—the sun was starting to set. “Meaning--”

“Meaning you have found her.”

A unicorn fell from the rooftops, landing in front of Smoky and Basalteus.

The unicorn's coat was light purple, and her mane a streaked indigo. Her amber eyes were fixed on her two pursuers. “I know when I'm being followed.”

The voice was crisp and cool. She was watching them carefully, but she did not seem threatened. Not in the least.

“Well...” Dizzy said reluctantly, “...I guess this can work.”

“Don't be so down, old girl!” White Collar smiled brightly, flourishing his tophat. “I'd wager she won't know what hit her. In fact--”

“Ahem.”

White Collar and Dizzy turned. A small group of well-dressed noblemares and gentlecolts stood before them, looking rather impatient. The leader tapped his hoof. “Count? Are you ready to go?”

Dizzy looked at White Collar, eyes widening. “Count?”

“Ah.” White Collar smiled cheerfully, but he looked somewhat embarrassed. “Well, yes. My full name is White Collar Fancypants. I'm a member of a very old and very much respected family. Sorry, I was going to mention, but it didn't seem important.”

The leader of the waiting ensemble sniffed. “Honestly, Count. We do have an appointment with that lunatic of a lawman. You're the one insistent on catching that lot yourself.”

White Collar shrugged. “Dreadfully sorry, Ms. Hooves. Duty calls. Good luck with that miscreant! I know it shall go splendidly. Remember, that talent is going to come in very handy someday. It could even save some jolly lives.” He turned, and left with his group of tagalongs.

The butler now approached her. “Miss?”

Dizzy turned to face him. The muscled white pegasus loomed over her, and his red eyes were somewhat startling. But he had proven to be a fairly nice pony, if somewhat taciturn. “Yes, Duster?”

“Do you wish to proceed with the plan? If so, then I must--”

“Yeah,” Dizzy said quickly. “Yeah. I'll...” She swallowed. “I'll go out. Do you think I can do it?”

Duster considered it.

Then, suddenly, his eyes bulged. “YEAH!”

Dizzy recoiled back, and hit a small desk behind her. A doubtless priceless urn teetered, but Dizzy knew it wasn't going to fall. “I—um--” She took a deep breath. “Uh...”

Duster's expression was normal again. “Sorry, miss. Family habit.”

He turned and headed up the stairs. “Good luck, miss,” the strange pegasus called, as he moved out of sight.

Dizzy hesitated.

Then she turned, opened a nearby window, and flew outside.

She didn't have much time.

Crab glared at Otis. “Oh, will I, now?”

“Otis,” Blueblood said sternly, “we have an agreement. You cannot back out of it now, or you will feel the full weight of the law on your flea-bitten, tick-infested, scruffy shoulders.”

Otis stiffened. “Scruffy?”

“Believe me when I say,” Blueblood went on, “I am excellent friends with the Princess. I am actually distantly related to her aunt, if you will believe it. If you try to turn on me now--”

“Hold up,” Crab interjected.

The unicorn and Diamond Dog turned to look at him.

“You're a thief, aren't you?”

Otis's eyes narrowed. “He knows too much. We should kill him now.”

“Quiet, you mangy moron, he doesn't know a thing.”

Crab advanced on Otis. “You're with one of those Diamond Dog gangs. These three ditched you, didn't they?”

“That...” Otis rolled his eyes. “...is not the exact story. They took our wagon.”

“Your wagon.”

“We need that to haul gems!” Otis's eyes shone. “They shall be punished. I shall bring their heads back to the masters on a silver platter, and an example shall be set! One does not 'leave' the operation.”

Blueblood sighed. “You idiot.” He turned to Crab. “Otis and his...packmates...are one of the more cut-throat gem-gathering enterprises.”

“By cut-throat you mean cut throats.”

Blueblood shrugged. “Anyway. What is Rovelk's band up to? I tire of this drivel, orchard tender.”

Crab shrugged back. “I find a bit of drivel in the soup keeps the diners on their toes.”

Blueblood blinked. Otis stifled a snicker.

Crab smirked at the confused duke. “Old farmin' phrase. You wouldn't know it, o'course. I s'pect you think carrots grow on trees.”

Blueblood's confused look was replaced with an expression of disgust. “Ah. How...charming. Ponyville chatter. Enough. Explain Rovelk's business now.”

Crab shrugged. “Nah.”

There was a stunned silence.

“I told you!” Otis rasped. “We should kill him now!”

Crab heard the faint scream of steel-on-steel.

“Wouldn't recommend that,” he said. “See, Otis, you're what we call a skulker. A skitterer. A sneak.”

He turned, and saw that Otis had frozen in place. The Diamond Dog's eye was twitching.

Then, Otis stomped his foot. “I am not a sneak, you stupid, stupid ass of a mule!”

Crab chuckled. “Anyway. You ain't gonna stand a chance 'gainst me. Nah. I could buck y'straight to the dragon lands if I wanted to.”

Otis blinked. “You...could do this, rude hat-wearing pony?”

Crab turned back to Blueblood. “Anyway, I ain't tellin' you jack. Them Diamond Dogs've got a respectable business goin', that's all I'll say. An' cause they ain't breakin any laws I know of, I sure ain't tellin' you anythin' as can be used to kill 'em. Hay, I wouldn't tell you even if they'd broken laws. Nopony deserves to get his head taken that far from the rest of 'im.”

Blueblood looked at Crab coolly. “Is that so?”

Crab shrugged. “It is. Why? Are you gonna make a fuss about it?” He raised an eyebrow. “'cause right now, I'm guessing you're being quiet about this business. Are you gonna get me arrested? That'll get you noticed pretty quickly.”

Blueblood showed no emotion. “I can have your farm dismantled.”

Crab froze.

“I am not bluffing, orchard tender. You sell the forbidden fruit of the Everfree. I am certain a health violation can be contrived of that.”

Crab glared. “I can tell them about--”

“About what? That I am cooperating with a Diamond Dog? They'll really take your word over mine? There is no evidence of my stock trades in the archives. And even if you manage to place me under suspicion...” Blueblood laughed shortly. “Your farm will be done for, orchard tender.”

The noble walked over to the window, then glanced back at Crab. “There is my deal. Tell us what Rovelk's band is up to, or I will have 'Sweet Apple Acres' burned down.”

He smiled thinly. “For the safety of the public, of course.”

“Who are you?” Smoky demanded.

The purple unicorn didn't move. The sack of bits lay right beside her. “I am Balancing Stars.”

“Why have you stolen from me?” Basalteus asked.

“What a stupid question.” Balancing Stars rolled her eyes—though not enough to take her gaze off Basalteus and Smoky. “You have one hundred bits here. I counted them.”

“That is not yours to take.”

“Oh, really?” Balancing Stars quirked an eyebrow. “And yet I've taken it. How strange.”

Smoky took a step forward. “Return the bag, thief! Or else!”

“Yeah.” The other unicorn's amber eyes glinted as her horn began to glow. “That's not going to happen.”

Basalteus glanced over urgently, seeing that Smoky's horn was also glowing. “Ms. Mirr--”

“Not now, Salty.” Smoky's eyes shone bright, and the bag was enveloped in a blue aura. It began to lift into the air--

The next moment, though, the aura around it was pale yellow. Balancing Stars shrugged. “Sorry, no.”

Smoky's white eyes narrowed. “No!” The aura turned blue again, but this time with a greenish tinge.

Basalteus watched the contest of wills with alarm. Smoky was struggling mightily, but the aura was turning solidly yellow again despite her best efforts.

Finally, Smoky released the spell, gasping for breath. The bag fell back to the ground. Basalteus prepared to catch the blue showmare, but she shrugged him off. “I am...alright...”

Balancing Stars smiled slightly. “Nice try.”

Basalteus looked back at the thief, his wariness increased.

Smoky Mirror was a very skilled mage. Between her lightning spell, an excellent grasp on various utility spells, and an even better grasp on pyrotechnics, she was the most powerful magic-user Basalteus knew. She got daily practice, exercising her already considerable prowess on everything from helping with the rock farm to  fending off creatures of the Everfree.

Balancing Stars was not only more powerful.

Smoky barely stood a chance.

Balancing Stars gave a small chuckle. “At least you know how to contest. Last unicorn I ran into tried to summon a swarm of snails. It might have phased me, if I hadn't instantly counter-spelled it. He didn't know how to handle that.”

“You...shouldn't...”

“Steal?” Balancing Stars tsk'd. “You see, I know exactly what you're about to say. I really do grow weary of the speeches.”

“It is mine,” Basalteus said. “A great deal of work was placed into its acquisition.”

“Yes. And it took two spells to take it away.” Balancing Stars shrugged. “You two have a lot to learn about the world.”

“I depend on that money to maintain my business.”

“Probably. That isn't my problem.” Balancing Stars sighed. “I'd have thought a salespony might understand. It's a dangerous world, earth pony. You fight or you die.”

“With that much talent...” Smoky hissed, “...why...don't you apply it...productively?”

“What are you?” Balancing Stars eyed Smoky's cape and cutie mark: a pair of sparkling cat's eyes. “Let me guess...showmare?”

Smoky Mirror blinked.

“I'm good at guessing marks. What,” Balancing Stars picked up the bag with her magic, still looking perfectly unaffected by the whole affair, “does a borderline streetclopper--”

“What?” Smoky shouted. “You little--”

“--know about productivity?” Balancing Stars finished. “I shall now be on my way. Pursue me, and you'll regret it. A lot.”

Dizzy flew around, a short ways above White Collar's—Count Fancypants's—tower. She watched nervously.

It wasn't too late to turn back. Prism hadn't noticed her yet. The rainbow-maned pegasus was still performing stunts high above. She hadn't noticed Dizzy yet.

“No,” Dizzy said to herself. “You can do this, Dizzy, you caitiff castaway.”

As if to seal the decision, she heard a loud bang from far down below in Canterlot.

Dizzy saw Prism glance down--probably hearing the noise. Then, the pegasus's dark red eyes zeroed in on Dizzy's askew ones.

Dizzy gulped.

The cyan pegasus began lowering, until she was down at Dizzy's level. She smirked. “Hey, Dizzy. I just realized how funny it is that you have that name. Makes sense, though. I'll bet you were the filly who always got her head dunked in the--”

“I,” Dizzy said quickly, “do not like you.”

Prism blinked. Then she started laughing. “Whatever. Did this little pony get her delicate feelings hurt or something? Go back to Ponyville and cry yourself to sleep if a little...heh...dizzy spell bugs you that much.”

“I am going to fly here.” Dizzy flew a short ways to the left, and Prism followed. “If you give me any trouble, you will regret it.”

“Yeah?” Prism flew closer, and Dizzy flew back. “That so? What're you gonna do, huh? 'cause I figure, this is my airspace.”

The cyan pegasus kept laughing. “Man, what a joke. You're gonna want to get out of my sky, before I knock you outta the air. Make like a Dizzy, and get lost.”

Dizzy's eyes narrowed. “I...can unleash a dimension of discomfort upon you if you don't turn very quiescent. I won't warn you again.”

“Why?” Prism rolled her eyes, grinning. “'cause you'll be in the hospital before you get the chance?”

Dizzy heard a whistling, but she didn't look up.

Prism did, though. In time for a clay flowerpot to smash into her skull.

The pegasus swayed, then looked back at Dizzy. “That, uh....just 'cause there're five of you...doesn't mean this teapot's gonna spill.”

“No,” Dizzy said quietly. “I won't warn you again because I had a flowerpot fired into the air about a minute ago, and it's going to fall right where you're hovering.”

Pony skulls were naturally resilient towards such whimsical injuries as these, of course. White Collar had been confident the worst Prism would have to handle would be a minor concussion.

Dizzy took Prism by the hoof and began leading the dazed pegasus down. “Of course, I guess I am going to the hospital now, so maybe you were more accurate than you knew. Come on. You'll be laughing about this someday.”

Crab stared at Blueblood, stunned.

“What's the matter, orchard tender?” Blueblood smirked. “Did you think you were dealing with a fool?”

“You...wouldn't dare.”

“Hah! Tell me what the Diamond Dogs are doing. This is your last chance.”

Crab hesitated.

Blueblood wasn't bluffing. Crab was confident that, if the Duke put his mind to it, he could have the farm disabled.

But Basalteus had trusted Crab in bringing him to Canterlot.

Crab scowled. “Go to Tartarus, Blueblood.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “Very well. Otis! Tell the--”

He was interrupted by a shriek from the little Diamond Dog. “Duke pony! Look--”

Crab spun as he heard a yipe.

Otis was hovering in the area, struggling madly but ineffectually. A blue aura had lifted him off the carpet.

Standing in the doorway was a white unicorn wearing a tophat, who nodded curtly. “Found you.”

Behind him, Crab heard Blueblood sputter. “Fancypants—get away, you cretin! This is none of your business!”

“Really, chap?” Fancypants raised a blue eyebrow. “Alarm?”

“Tha's 'im!” A massive mustachioed brown unicorn barreled in past Fancypants. “Payback time, mother--”

Crab turned, and watched the newcomer tackle Duke Blueblood, give a crazed holler, and crash through the window.

Crab blinked. “What just--”

He heard Blueblood shouting from below. “Confound it, you ludicrous oaf! Stop throwing me through windows!”

“I din't throw y'! I carried y'!”

“He'll be fine,” Fancypants said calmly. “Alarm Belle is an old...'acquaintance' of Blueblood's. He's police chief of Canterlot. They have a bit of a...friendly rivalry, you might say.

He turned to the hovering Otis. “Duke Blueblood will likely get through this with little more than a slap on the hoof. Difficult to jolly well connect him to spurious deeds, what with all his bloody connections to those spurious nobles. You, on the other hand, are guilty of three murders. You're going to be put away for a very long time, old boy.”

Otis only glared.

Fancypants glanced over to Crab. “Normally,” he said sternly, “we would be investigating you. Likely arresting you, too.”

Crab shook his head quickly. “I ain't associated with any of this. He just wanted me to--”

“I know,” Fancypants said, smiling. He levitated his monocle and began polishing it with a cloth. “Luckily, Alarm Belle has a jolly excellent pair of ears. Makes up for him being...ah...”

“No' ta worry!” Crab heard Alarm shouting. “I only ha' three bo'les o' the s'uff!”

“Your Tartarus-accursed breath reeks of hard cider, you brainless buffoon!”

“Tha's normal!”

“...drunk?” Crab suggested.

The unicorn shrugged. “Our esteemed Princess appointed him. He really is a jolly excellent police chief, but he isn't exactly popular with the nobility. His son's on a Fillydelphian...'football' team.” Even Fancypants sounded a bit distasteful at the idea.

“His son?” Crab frowned. “That fellow didn't seem much older than me. His son can't be more than a young colt.”

“Well, yes.” Fancypants sighed. “I did ask. Apparently, Mr. Belle felt it was important to start early.”

“Did you,” Smoky hissed, “just compare my profession to prostitu--”

“Well, yes.” Balancing Stars looked at Smoky Mirror evenly. “I did. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my wa--”

“I think not,” Basalteus said.

Balancing Star's eyes narrowed, very slightly. “Fine. Then I'll leave you unconscious for the street urchins to find.” Her horn started to glow, and she turned to Smoky.

Basalteus leaped, swinging at the unicorn's head. “No.”

Smoky was actually a little stunned at how deadly Basalteus's blow seemed to be. The earth pony was not softening his punches.

Balancing Stars turned just in time. The punch collided with a violet forcefield, and massive cracks appeared along its surface.

Basalteus drew back his hoof and landed on the ground beside the thief. “Now--”

As Balancing Stars began to cast another spell—barely missing a beat—Smoky looked up. Her horn flashed. She then bowed her head, and from her horn flew a silver light.

She heard it soar upwards, over the rooftops, and then explode in a magical burst.

There was a moment of silence.

“Flare's up,” Smoky hissed, not looking up. “If you could teleport with something that big, you'd have done so already. Pity you never got into a proper college, eh?”

Another moment passed.

Smoky looked up, glaring. “The police are on their way. I suggest you--”

Balancing Stars had vanished.

The bag of bits remained.

Basalteus considered it a moment. Then he picked it up with his teeth. “Weff do'e, Msh Mrr.”

He seemed somewhat troubled by something, but Smoky didn't pause to think. Instead, she grinned, and wrapped an arm around Basalteus's shoulders. “We did it, Basalteus! Well done indeed! With the mighty combination of strength, cunning and valor, the forces of justice stand triumphant over those of anarchy! You have your bits back!”

Basalteus nodded curtly.

But indeed, they returned to the marketplace to find only Crab waiting for them. His eyes were unusually wide. He adjusted his fedora nervously as he trotted over to them. “There you are! I've been waitin' for...well, about four minutes. Where's Dizzy got to? I didn't mean to run off, but you won't believe--”

“I'm here!”

They all looked up. Dizzy was flying towards them at top speeds. At the last minute, she braked, landing somewhat clumsily in the middle of the group. “Sorry! Sorry! I got--”

Crab smiled, looking intensely relieved. “Ah! Y'have fun, Dizzy? Not that I was worried. I'm sure you can handle a little bit of sky by yourself.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dizzy nodded sheepishly. “Sky's nice. Didn't spend much time there. I had to talk to this nice old stallion, then I had to go to the hospital, so I've been...what? Why're you examining me like that?”

Basalteus just shrugged, setting the bag of bits down. “Whatever happened can be explained on the road home. This trip has not been especially pleasant.” The rock farmer smiled, very slightly. “It seems to have ended without mishap, though. Regardless, it was clearly fortuitous that you were all invited. I thank you all.”

“The hospital?” Crab poked Dizzy, frowning. “Y'don't look injured. Did you fall? Did they magic you back t'health?”

“I'm fine.” Dizzy shrugged Crab off, rolling her eyes. “Quit badgerin' me. It's just been...a really interesting day.”

There was a pause.

Then, Smoky snorted. Then she started outright cackling.

Crab looked at her, staring. “Smoky, this's a...a serious...heh...you don't know...what I've had to...”

Basalteus watched as the apple farmer began laughing as well.

Dizzy joined in with a somewhat nervous giggle.

Basalteus picked up the bag again. The others were still laughing as they set off on the road home.

Clearly, the trip had been an eventful one.

But that it had ended well was reason enough to laugh.

Basalteus reflected. It had not been a good day. Up until now, it had been a downright terrible day.

But these three had made it a decent one.

He found he himself couldn't help but chuckle. Friends had a way of doing that.