The Only Mark That Matters

Radish, the prince, the two mares, and the phoenix clinked their glasses and drank.

“So, how does a prince get into the spy game?” Radish asked.

“Oh, I’ve been doing this ever since boarding school. You see, I was roommates with a real piece of work. Charmful, was his name. He abused the servants, cheated on exams, bullied the townies, and constantly left his dirty socks on my side of the room. From the day we met, he assumed I was cut from the same cloth. And in the beginning, I was.”

He swirled his drink, somberly staring into the ice cubes.

“Back then, I cared for nothing and no one. I simply wanted to graduate and begin my life of idle luxury. Charmful was constantly trying to ingratiate himself with me, hoping that becoming best buddies with a prince would pay dividends down the line. And it may have, but he… upset me.”

He took a swig.

“There was this local girl. She worked at a snack stand in town. Very pretty, very kind, even after a long day of long lines. I always saw her as a pleasant piece of the scenery, beneath my interest. Charmful thought she was beneath him, too, and that's why he was furious when she rebuffed his advances. He wanted to hurt her.

“He came up with a spell that would make its target act like a stinking drunk for several hours. He planned to cast it on her during her busiest day of the year, during an annual parade. She’d be a laughing stock in front of a massive crowd, and miss out on the business she needed to keep afloat. Then she'd have no choice but to do whatever he wanted for money. And he told me all of this in confidence, because he thought I’d find it hilarious.”

He finished his drink and put it on the bar.

“Well, I didn’t. It was the first time in my life I was in the position to save an innocent from a villain. The first time somepony actually needed me.

“I let him think I was his co-conspirator. But I cast a mirror spell on the girl without her or anyone else knowing. When he tried to cast his spell, it reflected right back in his face. He stumbled around like a drooling moron, disrupted the parade, and evacuated himself into a patrolpony’s cart as prominent town officials watched. He was arrested, expelled, and never seen again.”

Philomena flapped onto the prince’s shoulder and nuzzled him.

“He never knew it was me. The girl never knew what I did for her. And it felt good. That’s when I realized that a lowly reputation combined with clever maneuvering could make the world a better place. I’d let the world think I was an over-privileged dolt, and let all manner of corrupt officials and shady businessponies come to me with their plots. I engineered quite a few downfalls of the cruel and unscrupulous. And I expanded into the espionage game quite seamlessly.”

Radish took a moment to absorb the story.

“Ever cross paths with Worthy Wagoner?”

“But of course. He was on the board of the school. We were all impressed that you took him down. He was always so careful.”

“Do you know about what he has?”

“The sun shard? Yes. Sickening isn’t it? Last I heard, the family is keeping it at their chalet. I’d sneak in and take it back, but Celestia believes that stealing it would taint it. She would never accept it unless it was returned legally.”

“But that’s never going to happen,” protested Radish. “There must be something you can do.”

“Radish,” said Jelly Baby, “we have enough problems without taking on more. Let’s focus on the mission at hoof.”

“Right. What’s next?”

“Plucky and I have our own mission to complete. As the boat moves past the far side of the island, we’ll slip off and swim to shore. The yacht will dock, and you and Blueblood will go out into the party to get seen.”

“I have to keep up the playboy act, you know” Blueblood said. “I need you to play the part of the annoyed bodyguard who’s hating his assignment.”

“Right.”

“We’ll meet the contact, then bring them back here. The ladies will join us en route. To the crowds, it will look like the prince took a group back to his yacht for some fun.”

“You make it sound simple,” Radish noted.

“Oh, something always goes wrong. But Twilight said you’re good at improvising.”

“You talk to Twilight?”

“Of course. She needs to think I’m a brat, same as anyone.”

Radish frowned. “You act rude to her, too?”

“I approached her in the library while she was reading. I went on and on about my new tie pin. Loudly.”

Radish cringed. “Ugh, she must have hated that. How are you okay with good ponies thinking so poorly of you?”

“Would you not trade their estimation of you for their safety?”

“Of course! Oh. I get it.”

Blueblood put a hoof on Radish’s shoulder.

“I knew I had you right.”

Light Fantastic and Splash page sipped coffee a shared table at Bold Roast’s.

“Seriously? Rad’s on a royal yacht to MoteFest?” Splash Page asked incredulously.

“Yep,” said Light Fantastic.

“Man, I should have been a guard.”

"Yeah? Let's see you do a pushup."

"Which one is a pushup, again?"

“Now, remember to stay alert,” Blueblood instructed Radish. “This is bound to get hairy. The best kinds of parties tend to attract the worst kinds of parties. We won't be the only spies skulking around Motefest."

"That's what we're counting on," said Plucky Zither.

"Plucky," hissed Jelly Baby. "You don’t need to tell them everything."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Radish.

"We have to get going," said Jelly, downing the rest of her drink. "See you on the other side."

"Of the island, she means," said Plucky. "Not like, death, or anything."

The two mares zipped themselves up into wetsuits and dove off the back of the yacht. Radish watched them slip into the water without a splash.

"Nice girls, aren't they?" said the prince.

"How did you meet them?"

“We crossed paths in Monacolt. Rather tricky situation, but it was a good day for the good guys. Now, come on. There's a party waiting for us. And remember- you're annoyed by me."

"Aye, sir."

Radish accompanied Blueblood off the yacht. Philomena kept perched on the prince’s back. Radish took in MoteFest. The island was bustling with ponies, griffons, and zebras, all wearing a mix of clothes that were too expensive with accessories that were too cheap. Most had glowsticks incorporated into their ensembles somehow. Music was blaring from multiple stages, and none of the partygoers were paying attention to any of them. Most of the partygoers were inebriated.

"Root!" said Blueblood, feigning inebriation, "Come along, the real party's inside."

"Aye, your highness."

They approached a squat stone building covered in party banners and posters. Inside was a nightclub which was no less loud, crowded, or dark. Radish followed Blueblood past the throngs. They reached a door guarded by two large stallions in business casual attire. They let the prince pass without comment, but gave Radish unimpressed side-eyes. The prince approached a couch, where a pegasus mare in a fancy getup and an elaborate hairdo was entertaining an entourage. She lifted her hair for a better look at the prince.

"BB! Philomena! Good to see ya!"

“Songbird Serenade, lovely as always.”

Wrak.

Songbird Serenade shooed away her hangers-on with a gesture. Blueblood took a seat closely by her. The two chatted for a while, discussing current events and celebrity gossip. After a while, the two were leaning into each other, whispering and giggling.

“Root! Take us back to the yacht. We have more to… discuss,” said Blueblood.

“You two, take five,” Songbird told her bodyguards. “In fact, take a bunch of fives.”

They took a back exit. As they waded through the crowds, Radish felt a pony’s hoof hook around his. He turned to see Plucky Zither, now in a party getup and holding a drink, siding up to him.

“Hey, hottie. You here all alone?” she asked, batting her eyes.

“I’m here to work, miss,” Radish said plainly. Jelly Baby appeared out of the crowd and sauntered up to him from the other side.

“Aww, don’t be so serious,” she said, drawing a hoof up his chest. “Dont’cha wanna have a little fun tonight?”

Blueblood looked over his shoulder. “Root, you old dog! Go ahead and invite your new lady friends onto the boat.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ooh, a boat party! Anchors aweigh, matey,” Plucky said with a wink. Jelly giggled.

The ponies and phoenix reboarded the boat and entered the map room on the top deck. The spy mares tossed off their party paraphernalia. They joined Blueblood, Songbird, and Philomena at the map table. Radish approached Songbird Serenade, who was tying her hair back and gazing down at the map with a serious look in her eyes.

“Songbird Serenade? You’re the contact?” Radish asked.

“Who else can travel from Trotslyvania to Casabronco, hobnobbing with VIPs without raising suspicion?”

“What have you learned?” asked Blueblood.

Songbird took a flat pencil and made some additions to the world map on the table.

“Well, the good news is we can rule out all the usual suspects. Most other powers are scrambling to get their hooves on the missing starcium, too. None seem to have found it. None seem to know who took it.”

“Do they have any ideas what it was stolen for?” Jelly asked.

“Lots of ideas, but nothing solid to go on. My zebra contacts believe it was wanted for a very dangerous potion. The griffons think the thieves just wanted it for its intrinsic value- wealth to be hoarded, not material to be used.”

“If only,” sighed Blueblood.

“The best lead so far is a series of similar robberies across Great Bitton. Rare electro-mechanical components being stolen without a trace.”

“What does that add up to?” Radish asked.

“Something high-tech,” said Blueblood.

“And it ain’t no jukebox,” added Songbird.

“Thank you, Songbird. That opens up some new avenues of investigation,” Blueblood said. “This is for you.”

He passed her a small envelope. She checked its contents and smiled.

“Thanks, prince.”

“You are welcome.”

“I’ve got a show to do. Try to catch some of it, if you’re not too busy saving the world.”

Songbird Serenade took flight from the yacht and disappeared into the night sky. Radish looked back at Blueblood, who was adding notes to the notes she added to the map. It was all in a code Radish didn’t know.

“What about you two?” the prince asked the spy mares.

“Yeah, she’s here, all right,” said Jelly with annoyance in her voice. “We spotted her by the pool.”

“Hmm. Major, we’re going to need you for this next bit.”

“Who’s here?” asked Radish.

“Fetching Steps,” answered Blueblood. “And we’re finally going to apprehend her.”

“Wait, you know about Fetching Steps?”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Ah, Major… you do realize that was me that day, don’t you?”

“What day?”

“On Discord’s zeppelin. I was in disguise, calling myself Princely Sum.”

“Princely Sum? That guy!? That was you? That was a disguise? That… that… what were you doing there?”

“I had just finished an unrelated mission on an island in the same archipelago when the airship stopped by. I thought it best to investigate. I had no idea you and your bat siblings would end up there on a secret mission of Luna’s.”

“Then that was you who was hitting on Vesper!”

“Well, of course.”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

“Okay, you two, focus,” said Jelly Baby. “Our mission is Fetching Steps.”

“But who is she?” asked Radish. “Who does she work for?”

“Nopony knows,” said Plucky. “But whoever it is, they’re well-informed about covert operations across the globe. She keeps showing up and interfering with spy work- ours, Blueblood’s, other nation’s. It’s been going on for far too long. We’re going to capture her, interrogate her, and uncover who she answers to.”

“Okay,” said Radish. “What do you need from me?”

“Over here,” said Blueblood. He brought Radish to a shelf full of jars and bottles.

“These hair dyes are how I disguised myself as Princely Sum. I’m going to become him again. And Radish Root can’t be seen off of the yacht either, so you need to come up with a new identity. New look, new cutie mark, and a new name.”

“Have fun with it,” said Plucky. “Be creative.”

“Onion Bulb. I’m Onion Bulb.”

“No, that stinks.”

“See?” said Potion Nova, showing Celestia the tome, “Scribe K hypothesized a long-range weapon that could be built with sufficient quantities of refined starcium. Its power and accuracy would increase the more starcium that went into it.”

“That's quite a weapon. It would be difficult to counter such a device.”

Celestia read over the three-hundred-year-old marginal note. She smiled.

“Ah, Singleton, my old friend. Thank you for recording your thoughts.”

“Who?”

“He was a research scholar here in the palace. He would lose himself in the archive stacks for days at a time, then emerge having gleaned some unique insight. I often wished I could spend that kind of time on pure research.”

“I thought you’ve looked at Scribe K’s writing before, but never figured out who it was.”

“It’s not his writing, it’s his word choice that gives him away. See that phrase, ‘mark my words’? He said that all the time. It got rather repetitive. He must have been keeping these notes anonymous by writing with his mouth, instead of his horn. It’s a trick some unicorns use to disguise their writing.”

“Yeah, I’ve done that. But why would he want to write this note anonymously?”

“Perhaps he feared he’d be laughed at for this idea. It was far ahead of its time- his coworkers would have seen it as foolish paranoia.”

“You know…”

“Yes, I realize I relieved Major Root of the starcium case over what I saw as foolish paranoia.”

“I think this lead is worth pursuing. And he unwittingly brought it to my attention. We should at least thank Radish for this.”

“Potion Nova, I wanted Radish to go with Blueblood so he could relax about the starcium, not learn about more ways it can be used against us. I’ll have others follow up this lead.”

“What do you think he’d do if he knew about this?”

“That’s the problem with Radish. You never know what new mess he’ll throw himself into.”

“Well, at least he’s just with the prince at a party now. What's the worst that… could… ”

The two mares looked each other in the eyes. They both frowned.

Radish stepped out of one of the yacht’s bathrooms, having recolored his coat navy blue, his mane and tail gold, and having given himself tan Xs for cutie marks. He placed his engagement ring and his Guard ID badge in a box on a shelf while the spy mares appraised his new look.

“Well? What do you think?” he asked.

“Not too shabby,” said Plucky Zither, eyeing him up and down.

“What’s that cutie mark?” asked Jelly Baby.

“They’re crossroads.”

“And your new name?”

“Crossroads. Call me Crossroads.”

“Cute,” said Plucky.

“Don’t you two need disguises?” he asked.

“Uh, we’ve swapped colors,” said Plucky, pointing to Jelly.

“And restyled our manes,” said Jelly, pointing to Plucky.

Radish looked back and forth between the two mares. They looked the same to him.

“What? No, you haven’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“...no…”

“Stallions. Honestly.”

“Ah, you three look excellent,” said Blueblood, entering the room in his Princely Sum guise.

“So, what’s the plan?” Radish asked.

“Mena, guard the ship,” Blueblood told Philomena, perched on the shelf. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Princely Sum stood alone on one of Mote Island’s shores, pensively gazing out at the moon’s reflections in the water. He was far enough from the festival that the sounds of music and crowds were no longer drowning out the waves.

“Funny seeing you here,” said a flirtatious voice behind him. He turned to see Fetching Steps. He hadn’t heard the approach of her hoofsteps in the sand.

“Oh, I remember you! You were on that wretched cruise.”

“That’s right. That was quite an adventure. A shame we lost track of each other in all the chaos.” She stepped closer. “You seemed like an interesting pony. I was hoping to get to know you better.”

“And I, you, as well. I could tell you weren’t the typical sort of girl I usually meet on cruises.”

Radish watched the pair through binoculars behind the cover of a sand dune. The two were leaning into each other, engaged in a lengthy, intimate conversation.

I wish I could hear them. Learn about how real spies converse.

The two then shared a laugh, stood up, and took off down the shoreline together.

Okay. Now I just track them. Something I’m good at.

Radish followed them back to the interior of the island, past thatch-roof huts and short, weathered wooden buildings. They turned down a long dark alley. Radish scaled a building to keep a rooftop view of the pair. As they reached the midpoint of the alley, Jelly Baby sprang out in front of them and Plucky Zither sprang out behind them. Fetching Steps raised an eyebrow but remained calm, as if waiting for their next move.

Radish, now positioned above the scene, put his lips to his boot and blew a sleep dart. It zipped into Fetching Steps’s neck, and she shuddered. She pulled the dart out and looked at it, then looked up at Radish.

“Oh… it’s...”

She slumped to the ground. Jelly quickly rushed onto her and cuffed her. Radish jumped down to join them.

“Was that… kind of easy?” asked Radish, watching warily.

“Of course. It was a well-executed plan with a well-planned execution,” answered Jelly.

“Quite right,” said Blueblood, lifting Fetching Steps up and draping her across his back. “Let’s take the long way back to the boat.”

“Isn’t it a bad idea to take her to the boat? It contains your spy secrets and stuff.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be keeping a close eye her this time,” said Jelly, casting an accusing eye towards Plucky.

They snuck back to the boat under the cover of darkness. As they approached it, Philomena gave a squawk from the sky, indicating nopony was watching. They boarded and took Fetching to an empty room and tied her to a chair. A whiff of smelling salts jolted her awake. She looked around the room.

“Hey, what kind of party is this? I don’t think I’m into this kind of scene.”

Radish approached her menacingly. She focused on him.

“Whoa. Hey there, big guy. What’s your name?”

“I’m Crossroads,” Radish said icily. “And you’re at a crossroads right now, miss. Either you answer our questions, or…”

She smirked. “Or what?”

“Or this boat gets a new anchor!” barked Jelly, seizing and shaking Fetching’s chair. “Now, talk! Who are you working for?”

“Why, the Royal Spymaster, of course,” Fetching said pleasantly, leaning back.

“What are you doing on Mote Island?” asked Plucky.

“I came here to meet the leader of the Destriers.”

Princely Sum raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard? The Destriers are on the verge of a internal power struggle. I was sent to add fuel to the fire: whisper in the boss’s ear, get him paranoid of his lieutenants, and hopefully spark a civil war in their ranks.”

“Okay, enough of these tall tales,” said Plucky. “We have interrogators back home that will get the real truth out of you.”

“Indeed,” said Princely, ushering the others out of the room. “Let’s give the lady some space for now.”

After shutting the door behind them, Jelly grit her teeth. “Ugh, I can’t stand that lying trollop.”

“I’m not so sure she was lying,” said Blueblood. “A Destrier did attack me on my own yacht. That’s an atypically bold move for the organization, with no apparent motive. But if an up-and-coming lieutenant wanted to seize power, they’d throw out the old rules to make a name for themselves.”

“Then… did we do the wrong thing?” asked Radish. “If she was going get a bunch of bad guys to fight amongst themselves, that would have been good for everypony, right?”

“Don’t trust a thing she says,” said Plucky. “She's no altruist. And there’s no way their leader is at MoteFest.”

“Well, let’s see what our Destrier prisoner has to say about it,” suggested Plucky.

They went to the supply closet Radish had locked their attacker in. Radish unlocked and opened the door. There was no assassin inside, just a pile of loose ropes.

“He was here,” asserted Radish. “I used my best Ranger knots to tie him. And the door was still locked from the outside.”

“Not your fault,” sighed Blueblood. “I told you, something always goes wrong.”

Suddenly the floor under them lurched. The ship was moving. A loud rawwrk from Philomena rang out from the deck above.

“And sometimes it goes very wrong,” the prince corrected himself.

The four galloped to the bridge. Bursting into the room, they found the captain unconscious on the floor, with Philomena fanning his face with her wings. The ship’s steering wheel had been ripped off its yoke, and the rest of the helm controls had been smashed in.

“Mena! What happened?”

Philomena made a series of screeches and warbles to Blueblood while Plucky saw to the captain and Jelly assessed the helm. Radish looked out at the horizon.

“We’re heading out to open sea,” he observed. “Really fast.”

“The Destrier set the throttle to full speed and turned starboard before wrecking the controls,” said Jelly. She looked at a chart of the local waters. “We’re making a wide circle back to the island.”

“We’re going to crash!?” asked Radish in a panic.

“Yes, but not just anywhere,” said Jelly Baby. “The main stage is a huge pier, and Songbird Serenade’s concert is happening on it right now. We’re going to plow into her and a thousand of her screaming fans.”

“And her album debut concerts always have an overabundance of pyrotechnics,” said Plucky. “The explosion’s gonna be huge.”

“Quite the predicament,” said Blueblood. He stood up straight and pulled on the cord for the ship’s horn. It didn’t sound. He turned a switch on the wall to fire off the ship’s emergency flares. They didn’t fire off. He tried several more switches and levers. None worked. He sighed. “They never make it easy. You four, get Fetching Steps and leave on a life raft. I’m going to the engine room to stop the ship.”

The group split up. Radish, Plucky, Jelly, and Philomena returned to the room they had left Fetching in. She was gone, leaving only the chair and a pile of loose ropes.

“We are just batting a zero today, aren’t we?” grumbled Plucky. “Crossroads, go and- where did he go?”

Radish charged down the ship’s halls, out of a hatch and onto the deck. He found Fetching Steps standing on the bow, the wind whipping through her hair.

“Feels nostalgic, doesn’t it, Radish?” she said, leaning against the railing. “Oh, sorry- I meant Crossroads.”

Radish narrowed his eyes. He aimed his sleep dart blowgun at her. “What was this really all about?”

She hopped up onto the rail of the bow and playfully balanced on it. “Oh, major, it’s a long story with a dull beginning and a sad ending. I’m just trying to enjoy the middle while I can.”

“Then who’s the ghostwriter behind the story?”

“You wouldn’t know him.” She looked down at the water. “Sorry, my ride is here. It was nice to see you again. Tell Light I said ‘Hi’.”

“What?”

She leapt off the bow.

“Hey!”

The Destrier flew up from below holding her in his hooves. He soared into the sky and disappeared into the clouds as Radish shot and missed them with a dart.

“Thanks for the save, handsome,” she said, holding the pegasus stallion tight.

“I recognized you,” he said. “You’re the boss’s new girl.”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, leaning her head against his chest, “those ponies were trying to get me to spill the beans on him.”

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fish food in minutes.”

“Good. You can just drop me off at the boss’s room. We’re on the top floor of the Sunfish Hotel.”

“The boss is here? On this island?”

“Oh, shoot, that’s right- he wanted to keep our vacation secret from the rest of the boys. Don’t tell anypony, okay?”

The Destrier lieutenant raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t worry. He won’t even know I’m here.”

Radish lost sight of the two in the sky. He ran back to find the others. He found Blueblood and the mares standing at the entrance of the engine room.

“Major,” said Blueblood, gesturing into the room. “We’ve got more problems, if you can believe it.”

A water pipe hanging from the ceiling had been pierced at just the right angles to spray jets of water all over the engine room. An electrical box had been forced open, and its wires had been pulled out and connected to various pieces of machinery in the room.

A welding torch sat in the center of the room, under a half-melted piston in the floor and the severed end of a long heavy chain which led into the wall.

“To stop from crashing, we’ll either need to stop the engine, turn the rudder, or drop the anchor. Possibly all three. But our friend welded the rudder driveshaft solid, cut the anchor, and then electrified the whole blasted room.”

“That guy had an hourglass for a cutie mark. How is he so good at boat sabotage?” grumbled Jelly.

“Ponies can be good a things besides their cutie marks, you know,” said Radish.

“Any ideas, major?” Blueblood asked Radish.

“The captain mentioned something called ‘tacking into the wind’. Can we do that?”

“Well, the ship has deployable sails, and they could knock us off-course, but the controls that operate them were destroyed.”

“Can we raise them manually?”

“We can… but the sudden drag on the top of the ship at this speed would likely tear it to pieces.”

“Well,” sighed Radish, “It wouldn’t be a real mission if I didn’t wreck someone’s vehicle.”

The yacht’s sails, intended for leisurely short-term sailing, were a series of triangular canvas pieces folded between long wooden ribs which were normally kept flat against the sides of the ship. When extended, they gave the appearance of two large unfurling dragon wings.

Radish and Plucky took position above the port sail while Blueblood and Jelly took the starboard. At Philomena’s signal, they simultaneously wretched the sails free. The sail-wings sprang open.

The sails met the air like a brick wall. The entire yacht jerked back as if it received an uppercut to the face. Wood cracked, glass shattered, and metal squealed.

Radish was flung forward as the deck popped up vertically to meet his face. They collided with a smack, and Radish went reeling backwards, seeing stars. He stumbled over the railing and plunged into the water.

The buoyancy of his wood chainmail armor asserted itself, and he popped back up to the surface, gasping. He looked up at the yacht. The upper decks had been crumpled into the lower ones. The steady hum of the engine had been reduced to a loud sputtering, and smoke was pouring out of the hatches. Plucky had been tossed into the sails, which were collapsing around her and into the sea as the entire ship listed sideways above her. Somewhere out of sight, Philomena was screeching.

Radish swam and untangled Plucky from the sinking rigging.

“Did we do it?” she asked, coughing up saltwater.

“I think so. The ship is stopped. And broken. And on fire. And probably going to sink.”

“Over here!” called Blueblood’s voice. He, Philomena, and Jelly were approaching in an inflatable life raft. Radish and Plucky climbed inside.

“Sorry about your boat,” Radish said to Blueblood.

“Well, I have others,” he said.

“Are any nearby?” asked Jelly. “I think we’re going to need one to get home.”

“Maybe not. Look,” said Blueblood, pointing skyward.

A group of griffons were hovering above, watching them.

“Who are they?” Radish asked.

“The griffon coast guard,” answered the prince.

“What are they waiting for?”

“Payment in advance.”

Blueblood held up a coin bag and jiggled it. The griffons nodded.

Full repairs on Mote Island weren’t feasible, so Blueblood paid workgriffs to patch up the yacht’s hull and chartered another ship to tow it back to its home harbor. Blueblood seemed eager to get underway, as if slipping away from the scene of a crime.

Radish and Blueblood sat in the yacht’s bar, sharing a bottle of the good stuff.

“Well, we should be back home in a day or so.”

“Thanks for bringing me into this,” Radish said. “Sorry so much went wrong.”

“This was one of the more successful trips, actually. But there is a serious bit of business we need to discuss.”

“What’s that?”

“You did good out there. I could use a pony like you on my crew. I’d like you to transfer to my villa.”

“I have a job to do back at the palace.”

“But do you? Celestia took you off the starcium case. But I won’t. If you were on my guard detail, we could continue the hunt together. We’ll have all the resources of the royal family behind us, but none of the rules or expectations of the Royal Guard holding us back.”

Radish leaned against the bar, looking out at the ocean through the cabin’s cracked windows. He put his hoof over his engagement ring.

“What about Light?”

“There’s no room in this game of ours for long-term commitments. It’s not fair to either party.”

Radish chuckled. “You know, I’ve dreamt about the life of a spy since I was a teenager. And this adventure has shown me that it’s everything I thought it would be. But I’m not that teen anymore. I’ve got ponies I care about, and ponies who care about me.”

Radish turned to Blueblood. “But now that I know you’re out here doing this, I feel a lot safer. For myself, and for them.”

“Well, then, I must ask you to keep my secret. Even from the rest of the Guard. But especially from Celestia.”

“I will, on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Make your public persona kinder. Be nice to Twilight. Make amends with Rarity.”

Blueblood sighed. “I can’t. I am too entrenched in this image I’ve built for myself. Ponies would be suspicious of the sudden change.”

“Maybe they’ve been waiting for you to change this whole time.”

“Well, perhaps I could… show some promise.”

Radish knocked at Potion Nova’s office. She magically opened the door.

“Major!”

“Hi, Po No. I brought you something.”

He held up a white, extra-small concert T-shirt. She floated it over to herself.

“Oh! Cool! Thank you.”

“I also got you this.”

He gave her an autographed copy of Songbird Serenade’s latest album.

“Oh, wow!”

She teleported in front of him and gave him a hug.

“Thank you! What’s she like?”

“Good singer. Weird hair, though.”

“Hey, Radish… about the starcium situation…”

“I’m not working that case. You’ll have to bring it up with somepony who is.”

“Oh? Okay.”

Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings emerged from their shower, having washed their Jelly Baby and Plucky Zither disguises out of their fur. They toweled each other off.

“Well, I fumbled another mission. Involving her,” said Lyra. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not cut out for the whole secret agent thing.”

“Don’t be sorry. I messed up as much as you,” Bon Bon said. “What did you think of Radish’s performance, though?”

“I liked working with him, but I think he’s where he needs to be.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

Prince Blueblood sat at a private table in an Uptown Canterlot fine dining establishment. Across from him sat an older, well-groomed stallion in a crisp suit.

“Now, what favor have you come to wine and dine me over this time?” Blueblood asked, bored.

“The fashion industry in this town is getting crowded. I’ve got a new competitor- an up-and-coming designer named Rarity. She’s become the toast of Canterlot. And I’ve heard that she’s just ordered a shipment of a rare mohair fabric for her spring line.”

“So?”

“So if you could use your influence to make sure that shipment gets… lost in transit… and ends up at my shop instead, I could introduce you to that special collector you were curious about.”

“Ah. Why didn’t you say so?”

Radish met Celestia in her office. He saluted her.

“Ma’am. I’m happy to report that the prince is safely back from the festival.”

“Thank you, major. Were there any problems?”

“Well, there was quite a raucous party on his yacht, ma’am. Some of the rowdier guests knocked out the chef and the captain, and did damage to the ship.”

Celestia sighed. “I wish I could say I was surprised. But Philomena has intimated that the assignment was especially awful for you.”

“Oh. Yeah. See… he only wanted me there to show off my cutie marks for laughs.”

Celestia scowled. “That is unacceptable. I will speak with him about this.”

“Well, we ended up talking. We reached an understanding in the end. He’s letting me use his beach house this summer.”

“Really? That was uncharacteristically repentant of him.”

“Maybe some of my finer qualities really did rub off on him.”

“One can only hope. Did you see any of the festival?”

“I did. You know, that Songbird Serenade is talented.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll make the next Motefest.”

“I dunno, ma’am. The crowds at those places can be pretty rough. They did this thing called a ‘mosh pit’- I’d hate to see you end up in one.”

“Honestly, major. Would you like to start chewing my food for me, as well?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I know I can be… overly-passionate about my duties. But I think the prince has taught me a thing or two about relaxing.”

“He excels at that, all right. But you know, over the years, I’ve heard some funny rumors about the things Prince Blueblood gets up to.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” She leaned forward. “Did you observe him doing anything… unexpected?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“What was it?”

“He told me he cares about you.”

Celestia paused, staring at Radish. “Oh. Thank you, major. That’s… all I needed to know.”

Radish entered Cat’s Howl. Light was behind her counter, sketching.

“Hey, babe! How was MoteFest?”

“It was tiring, but fun.”

“What was it like to babysit Blueblood? I hear he’s just the worst.”

“His lifestyle is pretty wild, all right. I almost got caught up in it.”

“I just don’t see you living that kind of life, Rad. All that non-stop partying? You wouldn’t survive it.”

Radish smiled. “Yeah, I almost didn't. That’s why I’ve prepared this.”

He passed her an envelope.

“I wrote you a letter, in case I don’t come back from a mission someday.”

Light ripped open the envelope.

“Hey!” said Radish, grabbing at it, “Not yet!”

Light took flight and hovered out of Radish’s reach, reading it. She balled it up and tossed it at his head.

“‘Move on and find another guy’? ‘Maybe consider Splash Page’? Are you serious?”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah? Fuck that.”

She flew down to him and poked a hoof in his chest.

“I decide how I mourn you, and for how long. If I want to mope over my first love for a thousand years like Celestia, then I will.”

Radish was taken aback.

“First love? You’ve had other boyfriends before me.”

Light hugged Radish tightly.

“I know what I said.”

Radish hugged her back.

“Light, I’d die for my princesses. But I live for you.”

“Then live a good long time. I don’t want to end up with Splash Page.”

“Hey, you’re no prize, either!” Splash Page called from the bathroom.

“Now see here!” yelled Rarity, slamming a hoof down on the customer service counter of the shipping company she had once trusted. “I’m telling you I did not receive the shipment I ordered! I am a dressmaker! I ordered five bolts of fabric, not five crates of flange bolts! Why would I order flange bolts? I don’t even know what they are!”

“Well,” said the clerk, “according to all the documentation we have on file, you did. Maybe next time you should pay closer attention when filling out the order form. Next!”

“Of all the-! I demand to see-”

“I said, NEXT!”

Rarity left the office sputtering in anger. She stepped out onto the street, and the reality of her situation hit her.

“Oh, my entire spring line is ruined! How on earth could things have gone so wrong?”

“What, did they lose your package, too?” asked a stallion’s voice. She turned to see a tall and stately-looking violet unicorn exiting the building behind her. “Don’t get me started on this company. They’ve somehow mixed up my order of Crystal Empire ice wine with some Quebuckois brand.”

“Well, at least you can still drink yours! I don’t know what I’m going to do with five crates of flange bolts.”

“Flange bolts, you say? Why, I know a cabinetmaker whose entire production line is being bottlenecked for lack of flange bolts! Look, miss, if you’ll let me buy them off you for a mere, say, three times what you paid for them-”

“Three times!?”

“Oh, all right, five times. I can have the bits in your hooves within the hour. And I’ll throw in a bottle of wine, as well.”

Rarity gazed up at the stallion. Something about him seemed familiar, but whatever it was, it was eluding her. She did notice, however, that he didn’t have a wedding ring.

“I do believe we have a deal, Mr…”

“Sum. Princely Sum.”

“Mr. Princely Sum. But perhaps we might open that bottle together?”

Fetching Steps sat in a quiet corner of an Uptown Canterlot art gallery. The paintings on the walls around her depicted stacks of wheat in a subdued realist style. This room received very few tourists- they could see wheat stacks a home. Her employer sat down on the bench next to her.

“Both missions are complete,” she said, passing him a capsule of microfilm. “I photographed everything I could find in his secret spy room. And the Destriers have gone to war with each other. I don’t think they’ll recover.”

“Good work, my dear. Your payment will be deposited into your account. I’ll contact you the next time I need your skills.”

She sighed. “Look, we’ve been doing this dance for quite a while…”

“It is almost at an end, Fetch. By this time next year, everything we’ve worked for will have come together. I will cease calling upon you after that.”

“Just… remember your promise, okay? Nopony gets hurt.”

“I don’t want bloodshed, either. The change will be as peaceful as I can make it.”

“Okay.”

“Was Radish Root there?”

“N… yes. Yes, he was.”

“I think it’s time you burned the Fetching Steps identity. We’ve overused it.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. I’m thinking the next persona could be a blonde.”

“Ah, how fun. Do take care.”

Fetching Steps left the gallery, took a cab to the train station, and took a train far, far out of Canterlot. Hours later she disembarked and made her way on hoof over one of Equestria’s more barren landscapes. She eventually reached a rock farm.

She silently slipped inside the lone farmhouse and ascended the stairs to the second floor. She entered the bathroom and showered. She scrubbed the crimson dyes from her mane and tail, and washed the scarlet out of her coat, restoring both to their natural shades of gray. She pulled the green contact lenses from her violet eyes and discarded them.

She stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off. She entered the bedroom she shared with her sister, who was reading a magazine on her bed.

“Hi, Marble,” said Limestone Pie. “How was your weekend trip to the canyons?”

“It was nice,” said Marble Pie. “I got new soil samples for my collection.”

Marble hung up her towel. Limestone raised an eyebrow and approached her sister.

“Ugh, I am so jealous of your figure, Marble. Everything I eat goes right here,” Limestone said, standing on her hind legs and grabbing her gut. “And it’s all, bleh bleh bleh!” she said, jiggling her belly.

“But everything you eat goes right here,” she said, poking her sister’s hips. “And it’s all, va-va-voom.”

Marble Pie laughed. “Oh, come on. No one’s going to go ‘va-va-voom’ over me.”

“Marble, believe me when I say that if you ever took advantage of just how beautiful you are, you’d be the most dangerous mare in Equestria.”

“Oh, you know me,” she said bashfully. “I’d fall apart at the first sign of danger.”

Limestone held up the magazine she was reading. The cover featured Radish Root and advertised an interview with the stallion who had foiled a starcium heist.

“Hey, I was just reading about this guy. You worked for him, right? What's he like?”

Marble Pie smiled.

Listening to Songbird Serenade’s new album, Potion Nova focused her magic on a thin rod of crystal-coated starcium. She placed it sticking up in an iron stand, and attached electrodes to its base. She backed away from it, adjusted the fit of her goggles, and put her hoof on a large switch on the wall.

She threw the switch, and the rod glowed with indigo light and vibrated. It cracked lengthwise, and sparks poured out of the cracks. The rod shattered into pieces which tumbled and spilled off her workbench.

Celestia entered the room. She frowned at the scene. “What happened?”

“I’m trying to build a proof-of-concept for the weapon Singleton warned us about. But even the most basic models self-destruct when powered. It’s like there’s some kind of interference on the same operating frequency.”

“Hmm, could that indicate that somepony out there has already completed such a weapon?”

Potion Nova frowned. “Oh. Uh oh.”