Neigh's Anatomy

by Kotatsu Neko

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Queen Chrysalis, Sex
Length: 28947

Chrysalis gets a physical exam. What could go wrong?

A new normal brings new problems. Chrysalis has a job - a good, well-paying job she actually enjoys - and one of the conditions for keeping that job is the mandatory yearly physical. Well, that should be no problem for the Queen of the Changelings... right?

(Reading 'Taste of Stardom' first is highly recommended.)

Published 2021-12-21 19:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-05-25 01:40:20 UTC

Let's Get (a) Physical

Rising pop singer Harmony Delight had been in many Manehattan venues over the past few years, and the current one was small enough to be classified as 'snug', but that was okay. It was just a gig to tide her over between major performances. Not that she needed the money; she was more risen than rising these days, and could comfortably afford a high-rise apartment. But there were different kinds of needs, and these little micro-concerts helped keep her fed, in a way most other artists never had to worry about.

Once the last song had been sung and the spotlights dimmed, Harmony took her bows to the sound of hooves stomping on wooden plates. "Thank you, everypony! I love you! I hope to see you again soon! Good night!"

She hurried into the wings, and then to the dressing room where her friend and makeup artist, Heavy Foundation, waited. He looked up with a smile, congratulations clearly on his mind. As soon as the door had closed behind her, however, she winced and pressed a hoof against her abdomen. "Chair. Chair. Chair."

Heavy quickly rushed to her side and helped her into the seat before the large mirror and examined her with concern. "You all right, filly?" he rumbled, voice like a thunderstorm.

She lay her head back and closed her eyes. "I'll be..." A twinge of pain made her hiss. "...I'll be fine. It'll pass. Just something I ate, I think."

He watched her for a moment, and indeed she began to relax as the pain faded. "Told you to lay off the cabbage rolls before a show," he said casually, though his eyes remained worried. The earth pony turned to his equipment case and began to carefully remove Harmony's stage makeup.

She snorted. "You sound like my mother."

"Yeah, when am I gonna get to meet this mystery mare?"

"Trust me, Vi. I'm doing you a favor by not bringing her by."

"C'mon, Harm, she can't be that bad. She raised you, after all, and you came out all right."

The unicorn laughed. "Oh, if you only knew..."

"Well, either way, I'm glad that you two have reconciled and are getting along now. Family's important."

Harmony paused thoughtfully. "Y'know what, Vi?" she said, sounding a little surprised, "I am too. I never thought I'd say it, but I actually like having her around. She's a pain in the neck, but... I dunno. It's a comfortable pain."

He nodded. "Family pain. I get it. And speakin' of pain, I'm gonna get you a carriage home when we're done here."

"Vi, I'm-"

"None of that. Don't want my favorite filly to put herself on the bench because of a tummyache. You go home and rest, hear?"

"Okay, okay." She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Vi."

"I gotchu, Harm." He held out a hoof, and she bumped hers into it.

The ride home was without incident, and the pain only briefly resurfaced during the elevator ride up to her apartment. She stepped through the door, very carefully closed it behind her...

...and then was surrounded by a burst of purple flame.

Gone was the cream-colored hide and sky blue mane. The figure in the unicorn's place was noticeably larger, her body dark and sleek. A worldly pony familiar with Queen Chrysalis would have seen similarities, but there were also discrepancies, such as a slightly smaller stature and a subtly different placement of holes in her legs and horn. They would be most likely to notice the significant change in coloration, toxic purple where Chrysalis was fungal green. This was also clearly a queen more acutely aware of her personal appearance than Chrysalis had ever been; her hair was well-styled and -washed, her hooves kept meticulously clean.

She sighed as the pain in her abdomen immediately subsided. It always did once Queen Spinnerette returned to her natural form.

Faint voices floated to her down the hallway leading to the living room, telling her that she had a guest, in addition to her rather permanent one. This raised no concerns about discovery; there was really only one creature it could be. "I'm home," she called, though not too loudly. Likely the pair were deep in a planning session, and it wouldn't do to disturb them.

She moved toward them, then noticed something out of place: an thin, unfamiliar book on the hallway table, usually reserved as a temporary resting place for advertisements and junk mail. With a curious frown, she picked it up in her magic field. The title read 'SO YOU'VE GOT A MEDICAL CUTIE MARK' in big, easy to read letters.

Now she could make out speech. "Okay, do you remember how to make blood?"

"Of course I remember!"

"And what's your blood pressure?"

A sigh, then in a sing-song voice: "The average pony blood pressure is one thirty five over one hundred."

"Good. Make sure to mix it up a little; if you give them the exact average every time, they'll get suspicious."

"I know, I know..."

And here was another book, this one considerably larger and on the ground, titled 'Gaitwell and Fetlock's Principles of Pony Physiology'. A brief glance through the pages showed the material to be rather dry and difficult to get through, and the scuffmark on its spine suggested that it had been thrown down the hall because of this.

"Oh, and I know you don't like to eat or drink, but you should have some water a couple of hours before your appointment."

"Whyever for?"

And here was the allegedly popular foal's game Procedure!, in which tiny wooden bones and organs (you know, for foals!) were removed from a false pony with a pair of metal tweezers, causing an obnoxious buzz with every mistake. This had been thrown so hard it was still embedded in the wall.

"In a cup?!"

"I'm afraid so. That's standard procedure these days, especially for a physical job like yours. They have to check for performance-enhancing potions."

Spinnerette moved forward to stand in the doorway, and in the living room observed a scene that would certainly bring down the full force of the Canterlot military, the Elements of Harmony, and whatever group of misfits Starlight Glimmer threw together this time if anypony else ever saw it.

In a large, plush chair that looked more throne than recliner, Queen Chrysalis sat surrounded by a variety of medical charts and textbooks. None of them looked particularly well-used, but an attempt was clearly being made. On an adjacent sofa sat Mandible, a reformed changeling in periwinkle and green, hatched from the same brood of eggs as Spinnerette some eighty years previous. He, too, was surrounded by books, but his seemed more thoughtfully chosen, while the ones around Chrysalis were apparently selected by how many bright and shiny colors could be worked onto the cover.

"That's ridiculous." the elder queen snapped. "Why would they care about that? It's not like I'd be getting some kind of advantage; it's all scripted anyway."

"Potions sometimes have a negative effect on the body. They're just protecting their investment. Also they wouldn't want your younger fans to find out; it's a bad look."

Chrysalis crossed her forelegs and hmphed. "But I don't need potions. I'm already far superior to any wretched pony!"

Mandible sighed and rubbed his forehead with a hoof. "I can't believe I have to explain this. Yes, you're a queen and queens are awesome. But as far as everypony else knows, you're a pegasus. A pegasus in really good condition, but just a pegasus. There's already been rumors that you take potions on the side, and while that helps build up your 'bad filly' reputation, management isn't going to want it to go too far."

"But it's so...!"

"It's just how it works these days, Mom. It's nothing embarrassing. Everypony has to do it."

"I never did," Spinnerette interjected.

The pair looked up, and Mandible smiled. "Oh, hey, Spin. Didn't hear you come in. And you never did because you never signed up with the big record companies like I said you should. You're a free agent, which means you also don't get any benefits."

She frowned. "Benefits of what?"

"...never mind."

"So, wait, am I hearing this correctly? Mother has to take a physical exam?"

He nodded. "EWF regulations. Mandatory yearly checkup, to make sure everything's running properly. Pro wrestling's rough on a body."

"A pony body," Chrysalis sneered. "Queens are made of sterner stuff."

"Yes, yes..."

"Isn't that, like, really dangerous, though?" Spinnerette pointed out. "If they find out she's not a pony..."

Mandbile gestured at the surrounding medical texts. "Which is why we're cramming, so she can make herself as close an approximation as possible. Anyway, I doubt it'll be super invasive or anything. Maybe a bone scrying to make sure she doesn't have any fractures, but that should be the worst of it."

"Even so..."

He shrugged. "Well, she can't keep working there if she doesn't do this. It's a risk we have to take. And if it all goes south, there's no ties between the Countess and Harmony Delight; she can just cut and run, and we'll try to find her something else to do again."

Spinnerette reflected briefly on the previous attempts to find gainful employment for Queen Chrysalis. "...pass me one of those books. I'll help."

They worked through the night to perfect Chrysalis' disguise, a task that only a queen could manage. Any drone could provide the outward appearance of a pony, but it took supreme control to plan out and maintain an entire network of internal organs and the supporting infrastructure to keep it going. Eventually, every vein and artery was in place, every organ where it should have been. This was probably an unnecessary extra effort, but none of them wanted to take any chances. Once they judged the disguise to be perfect, the three went to bed secure in a job well done.

Which was a shame. Because of all of the books in the apartment, only Gaitwell and Fetlock's Principles of Pony Physiology, abandoned and untouched in the hallway, covered the topic of pony biochemistry and all its related fields. It was an oversight that, had it been caught, might not have, in time, resulted in two of them screaming for their lives and fleeing headlong through the sewers beneath Manehattan.

Or perhaps it might have. You never know.

"And you're sure this doctor isn't Discord?"

"...I don't know what to tell you, Mom. I did a full background check on this guy, and he seems legit to me. He started practicing before Discord was set free, and I couldn't find any trace of scandal or weirdness. If he really is secretly Discord - which, let me remind you, I have no way to find out anyway - he's playing an uncharacteristically long game. He's just not that patient. Why are you so fixated on this idea?"

"No reason," Chrysalis growled.

"Look, I'm sure everything is going to be fine. Just go in there and do what they tell you. I'll be blending in somewhere nearby."

"I don't need a chaperone!"

"I'm not a chaperone, I'm backup. You used to trust me with that much, didn't you?"

Her expression suddenly softened by a few degrees in the warmth of remembrance. "...and more. You were always one of my favorite drones, Mandible. You were a credit to the hive."

The reformed changeling hesitated, and was surprised when this comment wasn't immediately followed by accusations of betrayal. "Then trust me with this now. If something happens, maybe I'll be able to smooth it over or call the doctor away or something."

She sighed. "Very well. Let's get this over with."

Shortly thereafter, the doors to the clinic's waiting room swung open. A few of the ponies in the waiting room glanced up, looked back at the magazines they were perusing... then back up, staring.

A receptionist at the front desk was busy filling out paperwork when the shadow fell over her. She peered over her spectacles and stared up at the midnight blue pegasus on the other side of the desk. While extremely well-muscled - it took a certain degree of power to grapple with a yak for the championship belt - the pegasus was by no means burly, a coiled snake rather than a charging buffalo. For anypony who saw beauty in fitness and definition, she was striking. She was also a good half-hoof taller than the average pony; not large to the same degree as even Princess Luna, but more than enough to stand out in a crowd.

The receptionist blinked in surprise. "Oh, my!" she said in a pronounced Van Hoover accent. "You're a big one, ain'tcha?"

"I am..." Dramatic pause. "...The Countess." Slightly less dramatic pause. "...I have an appointment."

"Ooo, I don't think we've ever had any royalty here!" the receptionist chirped, unfazed, and picked up a clipboard. "Let's getcha checked in here. You said your name is Countess...?" She waited expectantly.

"Yes."

"No, Countess What?"

"The Countess."

"I mean, what comes after 'Countess'?"

"The fallen bodies of my enemies, broken and beaten as they lay strewn in my wake! AHAHAHAHAHA!" There was no thunder outside as she laughed, but there should have been.

"...um..."

A more experienced staff member leaned over. "She's right here," the mare said, pointing at the clipboard. "She's from the EWF. We get their referrals. They like to stay in character."

"Oh! Wow, yeah. Just 'The Countess', sure enough. Alrighty then! And we got all your information already... just have a seat and we'll call you in when they're ready."

The Countess complied, finding a spot on the long, backless benches that stretched across the waiting room. Minutes passed, and a pair of elderly earth ponies checked in and took a seat on the bench in front of her, facing away. "You didn't have to come all this way with me, dear," the stallion said. "I know you're so busy."

"Oh, nonsense, sweetie," the mare scoffed. "Your health is the most important thing to me in the world."

He smiled at her, stars in his eyes. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, my darling. I just love you so much."

(Behind them, an ear twitched.)

"Not as much as I love you, my honeybunch! I'm just overflowing with love!"

"Well, I'm absolutely bursting with love, my cutie patootie!"

"You know what, my sugar dumpling? I bet there's isn't a couple in Equestria who has as much love as we do!"

"Uh-oh, my turtledove! Someone's tummy is rumbling!"

"Not my tummy, my precious, but you know I'd eat up anything you cook for me!"

"Oh, I can tell, my sugarlump! I can hear your drooling!"

"Well, I can feel your hot breath on my neck, my beloved! Someone's getting feisty!"

"Speak for yourself, my little cutsie wootsie pudding pie! That's quite the hungry growl I hear!"

"Oh, you!"

There was a loud clearing of the throat, and the Countess looked up from her position immediately behind the oblivious couple to see a rather nondescript janitor pony across the room. He locked gazes with her and shook his head slowly.

She gave him a pleading look and, after a quick glance at the couple, held her forehooves out, very close together. Just a little?

He shook his head more emphatically. No!

She hmphed and returned to her bench, trying to ignore the banquet being laid out right in front of her.

"Countess?" She looked toward the front desk, where a unicorn in nurse's scrubs stood waiting. "We're ready for you now."

"Thank Grogar," she muttered, and followed the nurse to a back room. She immediately disapproved of the place; it smelled chemical and sterile and wrong. It made her long for the deep mustiness of a proper hive.

"We're just going to do some quick checks and take some samples before the doctor sees you," the nurse said, with the air of somepony who had done this a million times but still wanted to appear bright and cheerful about the whole thing. "First, though, why don't you back into this little room here. Yes, that's right. Just above the funnel. Over the cup."

"You are doing so well," the nurse said, sensing the Countess' discomfort as various needles and medical devices were employed.

The Countess grumbled. "I am not a grub..." She caught herself quickly. "...foal to be coddled!"

"I know. But we're almost done, and then the doctor will go over everything with you. Now just stand behind this panel, please, facing toward the arrow."

She took her position, with the panel along her left side, and presently it began to glow and a mild tingling sensation spread across her skin. "And what does this one do?" she asked as casually as possible while her natural paranoia screamed to flee.

"It's a full-body ultrascry," the nurse told her, watching the device intently. "Just making sure all your bones and organs are okay."

"Yes. My organs are very well formed and positioned."

The nurse chuckled at this. "Just a few seconds, and..." The glow faded, and a photograph unscrolled from the machine's surface. "...done! Okay, just wait here, get comfortable on the examination bed if you want, and the doctor will see you as soon as possible."

This is always a lie, and it was a good twenty minutes before there was a knock on the door and a distinguished-looking stallion entered, wearing spectacles and a white coat, and sporting a well-trimmed beard and mane that in a pony would be described as salt-and-pepper, though on a zebra there was some question whether he'd been born with the coloration or if it was a sign of age. He gave the Countess a comforting smile. "I'm sorry it's taken such time to arrive," he said with a pronounced accent. "The city grows larger, our business does thrive. I'm Doctor Zakeem; I'll be your physician. Come, let us chat and discuss your condition."

She gave him a courteous, even regal nod, and he pulled a clipboard out of his saddlebag and laid it on a table. "Your blood work is pending; there's been a delay. You're otherwise healthy, I'm happy to say. Your bones are unbroken, of scars there's no trace. Your wings: not a feather is found out of place. I've seen many sportsponies come through my door, and Countess, you leave them all wanting for more."

She smiled. "Naturally."

He turned upon her a severe, cautioning look. "This is not to say that you cannot be harmed. You wrestlers do things that make others alarmed. Take care with your stunts, have sensible fear, and you'll still be fighting for many a year."

The Countess sighed. "Yes, I know." It was an annoyance; she knew her superior constitution was capable of feats that would make her fans adore her even more than they already did, thus increasing the supply of love she gathered during every performance, but the management refused to set her up with a flaming-ladder-on-flaming-table-covered-in-flaming-hooftacks match.

There was another knock, and the nurse peeked in. "Here's the blood work, Doctor. Fresh from the lab; sorry it took so long."

He smiled and took the paperwork from her. "It's no problem, nurse. It could have been worse."

She glanced at the Countess and winked, then said teasingly, "I do have a name, you know."

Dr. Zakeem gave her a pained look. "Yes, yes, Purple Orange, of that I'm aware. And though I don't use it, please know I still care."

She giggled. "I'm the bane of his existence," she told the Countess, then closed the door behind her as she left, a brief flash of violet fruit at her flank.

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you again next year, then," the Countess said, standing up. She considered any examination of her blood to be a mere formality; after all, she'd perfected the trick centuries ago, in a time when ponies assumed that a little cut could prove that somepony wasn't a changeling, which was true enough when dealing with the average drone. The fluid now in her veins, however, matched the genuine article in coloration, consistency, and even smell. She didn't know if it tasted the same, but that had been a test that had never been employed and seemed unlikely in this more enlightened age. She was certain that her artificial blood was completely indistinguishable from-

Zakeem gasped, and she turned toward him. "What is it?"

"You blood sugar level's incredibly low!" He raised a hoof to his temple in shock. "How are you still able to stand?! I don't know!"

Her eyes widened. "There's sugar in blood now?!"

"We have to act quickly! No, faster than that! You have to be given an IV drip, stat!"

"Doctor, please calm yourself. I feel perfectly fine. Just sign my paperwork to bring back to management, and you won't have to worry about-"

He shook his head roughly. "Oh, no, no, Miss Countess, that simply won't do!" He laid his forehead against her chest and tried to push the wrestler toward the examination table; this was like attempting to move a wall. "Just lie down and we'll have you feeling like new!"

The Countess scowled. "I said I'm fine!"

"It seems, my poor Countess, your state is quite serious! Your glucose deficiency's made you delirious!"

"Calm down!" she snapped. "Look, let me..." An idea occurred. "Wait, what's that over there?"

The doctor turned to look and the room was briefly lit up with green light. He looked back at her, puzzled; nothing had visibly changed. "Try tasting it again," she said, holding out a foreleg. "I'm sure it's sweet enough now."

His brow furrowed, but he gathered some items together and, with well-practiced movements, took her hoof and pricked it with a tiny needle. He collected the resulting drop of blood and brought it over to a small magical device, which hummed briefly. "Well?" she asked. "Is that better?"

Zakeem shook his head slowly. "Now your blood sugar's impossibly high! It's like it's entirely made up of pie!"

She frowned, starting to feel flustered. "Well, how much-"

But he had already turned back to the paperwork the nurse had brought in. "And that's not the only thing that I see wrong! Your red and white blood cells and platelets: all gone! No lipoproteins and no trace of potassium, no sodium, albumin, or even calcium! It's like you do not even have blood at all! Dear Countess, what keeps you from taking a fall?!"

His panic was infectious, the barrage of medical terms was making her head spin, and the feeling that she'd been woefully unprepared for this examination wasn't helping. After managing to make a name for herself as the Countess, she thought she'd started to put her days of abject failure behind her. Was simple biology going to unravel everything she'd done? "Doctor, please! I'm sure there's an explanation-!"

"Some way to explain it..." he said with a slow nod. "We'll have to run tests. I'll call in some specialists; for now you should rest."

More doctors?! She definitely did not want more eyes on her approximation of a pony. "That's really not necessary."

Zakeem hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. First and foremost, you're needing good care. We'll go to St. Clover's, examine you there."

That was the largest hospital in the city; definitely not what she wanted. "Stop!"

"We'll get you there quickly; I might even drive! Your state is one no normal mare could sur-"

That was it! In her overheated thought process, she thought of the perfect way to stop him from questioning her physical state. Green fire flared, and with wings spread wide Chrysalis loomed over the zebra, who stepped backward in shock. "Do I look like a normal mare to you?!" she demanded.

"Burning savannah!" He backed up further, upending a tray of equipment.

The clattering noise cut through the queen's thought processes, such as they were, and the two stared at each other for long moments. Her expression was slowly transformed into one of abject horror as she realized what she'd just done; his was already there. Another wave of green, and the Countess was back, looking small and ashamed. "...you saw nothing," she commanded.

It didn't work. "Y-you are Queen Chrysalis," he stammered, "the Thief of the Heart! My questions are many, with nowhere to start! You've taken the face of a wrestler, but why?" His face became set in determination, and he stood a bit taller, even as his legs trembled. "Whatever your scheme is, it's one I'll defy!"

She gave up and returned to her natural form. "Bold words," she sneered, purely by reflex, "from a mere physician! Braver ponies than you have stood up to me... and fallen!"

"I may not be young and I may not have might," he said, "but I'll still oppose you; I'll do what is right!"

"Then come, doctor! Let us see what a healer of ponies may do against the True Queen of the Changelings!"

They faced each other, unstoppable force versus all-too-moveable object, the tension rising...

There was a knock on the door, and Purple Orange opened it and scooted in. "You're making quite a ruckus in here, Dr. Zakeem!"

"Be cautious, my friend!" he warned. "There's villainy nigh! Go and seek aid! Raise a hue and a cry!"

The nurse closed the door behind her, and he didn't notice how she locked it. "What are you talking about? What villainy?"

Zakeem stared at her. "The Queen of the Changelings is standing before you! Inform the authorities now, I implore you!"

She looked around the room, her gaze seeming to pass over Chrysalis completely. "There's nobody here but you, Doctor."

"...I don't understand. She's standing right here! She wears no disguise; my vision is clear!"

"I don't know what to tell you. I mean, if it really were Chrysalis, she could turn into a little bug or something and leave whenever she wanted to." Despite this emphasis, the queen didn't move. Purple frowned slightly, but went on. "Anyway, why would she even be here?"

"...I'm not sure, I confess. But she was the Countess!"

"Her? She left a while ago. Doctor, are you feeling alright?"

He hesitated, still staring at Chrysalis, then shook his head. "No," he decided. "No, I'm sure that it's not a delusion. There must be some way to prove it's no illusion." He brightened as an idea hit him. "The samples we have; we can test them once more. Or check the machines, and the records they store."

Queen and mare stared at him, then exchanged glances. "I think that's it," Purple said finally. "The only way I could stop that is by breaking everything, and I'm not going to do that. Not for this. Those things are expensive, and ponies rely on his work." Chrysalis grunted.

Zakeem looked at her in confusion, then his ears went flat and he stepped back until his flank struck the wall as blue fire swept over the nurse. In her place now stood a changeling, with glowing blue eyes and sleek black chitin.

Chrysalis looked at him and nodded. She didn't need to be told that the sight of a reformed changeling in her company would only cause problems. "You look better like this," she said, and he snorted. "What took you so long? Things went awry over five minutes ago."

"The nurse was talking to that older couple just down the hall. I'm surprised you didn't hear them, though I guess that's why they didn't hear you. I couldn't exactly look like her until she left. What's going on, anyway?"

Before she could respond, Zakeem let out a hysterical little laugh. "Oh, I get it now! This must be a dream! That surely explains how odd it all seems! Yes, good one, dear Luna! This is quite the joke!" He looked at them again, a stallion with only the barest grip on his sanity. "...now I'll go to sleep, so I'm sooner awoke." The zebra jumped onto the examination bed and curled up, snoring loudly and theatrically.

"...the exam went... poorly." Chrysalis said finally, then nudged Mandible roughly. "Because somedrone didn't tell me how complicated blood is these days!"

"Hey, you're the one who said she remembered how to make it! And it's just blood, how complicated could it possibly-" A green field shoved the test results in his face, and after a few seconds of reading he let out a low whistle. "Okay. Yeah. Even you would have problems getting all this just right. So... what do you want to do now? Do we bail on the Countess?"

"...no. I've come too far to let something like this stop me. And I'm tired of slinking away in defeat."

"Fair enough. So what's the plan?"

She regarded the 'slumbering' form of Zakeem. "Normally, I would bundle him up and store him in my hive for later feasting..."

The snores became desperately louder.

"...but since I don't have a hive anymore, that would be difficult."

And Spinnerette would be furious, Mandible added mentally. "Should we just leave him? He seems willing to just write this whole thing off as a dream."

Astoundingly, zebras appeared to be able to nod vigorously in their sleep.

"Hmm. That doesn't solve my problem, though. The Countess needs that clean bill of health."

"...in that case, mind if I try some honesty? For what it's worth, I'm pretty sure we can trust him."

She made a face. "I disapprove on principle... but if you must."

The doctor found himself lifted up and flipped over on the bed. "C'mon now, doc. You're not dreaming and you're not fooling anyone." Zakeem reluctantly opened his eyes to find himself face to face with the drone. He started to squirm against the magic that held him, and the drone lifted a hoof placatingly. "Shh. Shh. Just calm down a minute and listen. I promise we're not here to hurt anypony."

He glanced fearfully up at Chrysalis, who had started nosing through the various apparatus in the room. "But-"

"Yeah, I know what she said. Don't worry about it. She's just like that." The drone considered him for a moment, then continued. "Now, I bet you're thinking that she stole the identity of the Countess, right? For some grand scheme or another?" The doctor nodded hesitantly. "Well, she didn't. It's all her. The Countess didn't exist until a few moons ago. She's been in Manehattan this entire time. Have you heard of any ponies getting love-drained recently?"

"...I heard of a stallion out on the East Side. He'd ordered a pizza; was found siphoned dry."

"That was entirely deserved!" Chrysalis called out.

"...it kind of was," the drone admitted. "But nopony since then, right? That's because we found out a new way for her to feed. If she can put on any kind of performance and get ponies to enjoy watching it, she can take a little bit of love from each of them. And as the Countess, she's got an entire stadium of excited and happy ponies to tap into. She gets a meal, they get a show. Everypony gets just a tiny bit of love taken from them - they don't even notice - but when there's that many of them it's like three of four ponies' worth at once. Everycreature wins. Isn't that better than having her mug random ponies in alleyways and taking all of their love?"

The doctor felt the field around him fade, and he sat up. "I... suppose that has merit... but it's true? Do you swear it?"

"Drone's honor, doc. And that's why we're here. She can't feed like that unless she wrestles; we've tried everything else, believe me. And she can't wrestle unless you sign that little piece of paper clearing her for active duty. Just do this one little thing for us, and we'll be out of your mane."

He looked at the two of them, his panic slowly fading... but then closed his eyes. "...no."

"You dare-!" Chrysalis snarled.

Mandible lifted a hoof to forestall her. "I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but-"

"Your story rings true, and I'll honor your word," the doctor said, hopping down from the bed. "But now it is my turn to make myself heard. To falsify documents? No, that will not do. My integrity I shall not break, not for you." He gestured at Chrysalis. "Is she in good health? That remains to be seen. I've never in my life examined a queen! We've studied the new ones that they call reformed, but they're not the same type since they've been transformed. I can't, in good conscience, declare that she's fine... without added data on more of her kind."

The drone leaned back, then nodded. "I get it. I can respect that. So you need to evaluate another changeling first?"

"It must be a queen," Zakeem insisted. "One more of her caste. The physiological difference is vast. And two would be better, to find variation, though surely she's likely alone in this nation."

Queen and drone exchanged looks. "...she's never going to go for it," Mandible said.

"What choice do we have?" Chrysalis looked down at the zebra. "All right, doctor. Perform your evaluation of my true noble self, and then... you shall have your second queen."

Change is Expected

"Stay late at the clinic tomorrow. We'll have her come by when you're alone."

It was not a very good day for Dr. Zakeem. Having come face-to-face with one of the most infamous villains in Equestria had left him unsettled, to put it mildly, and the upcoming meeting with a heretofore unknown changeling queen wasn't helping. He found himself jumping at every knock, twitching at every movement in the corner of his eye. And with every patient he saw, he had to ask himself: is this her?

Finally the clinic closed for lunch, and he found himself alone in his office, picking at his peanut stew.

He wasn't sure what he'd been thinking when he'd made the request to examine a second queen. It had been a foolish, impossible request, one he'd had no reason to expect could be fulfilled. Another stallion may have used that as an excuse to avoid assisting Chrysalis with whatever plan she was enacting and hopefully avoid her wrath. That just wasn't how he did things, though. He couldn't possibly get a large enough sample size to determine a baseline (and if he did, having that many queens around would probably spell doom for the entire city), but he felt he had to at least make an effort to uphold the spirit of the task he'd been given. Fortunately the evaluation form was sparse on details; as long as he could confirm that she was in good health and free of potions, the EWF didn't much care about the particulars.

And... he had to admit, if only to himself, that the thought of an entirely... well, not a new species, certainly, but one as yet unconsidered by modern medicine... it was intriguing. From the drone's explanation while Zakeem was conducting the examination of his queen, she could consciously manipulate her body down to the cellular level. What diseases could such a being ever have? Did that control apply to her natural body as well, or just when she changed shape? How, when you got right down to it, did it all work?

Magic, he thought, a bit sourly. Medicine, and science in general, had made great strides in recent decades, but some things just came down to 'it works because it's magic'. Oh, magic was all well and good - it wasn't as though he was one of those weird naturalists who denied it even existed - but of the two, he preferred science, which made him something of an outlier among the zebra population... especially in the minds of his Manehattan patients, who often expected his remedies to arrive in the form of a fresh-brewed bottle of mystery.

Ask any pony off the street what they knew about zebras, and you'd like as not receive a common answer: "They rhyme and they make potions." Well, the first was true enough, but only dedicated alchemists could do much more than brew the occasional indigestion cure or sleep aid. And there were so many variables involved in potion-making as well, so many different ingredients and procedures depending on the time of year, the phase of the Moon - and Luna's return had required some reconsideration on that score - and a myriad other factors that often bordered on the ridiculous. That's what made self-improvement potions so notorious; if the brewer's skill wasn't up to snuff, the side effects could be dire. But if you lived in Zebrabwe and were interested in the healing arts, you learned alchemy. So he'd come to Equestria, studied medicine, graduated with honors, and never looked back. Except to make rude gestures at those who'd said a zebra from the sticks could never equal a pony enhanced by the right cutie mark.

And now he was potentially committing treason against his adopted home.

Why in the world had he agreed to this? But the drone had been so blasted persuasive. And try as he might, Zakeem couldn't think of any kind of grand scheme to take over the country that involved pretending to be a wrestler, though admittedly world domination had never been a subject of interest to him (except for a few months in pre-med, but everypony went through that stage, didn't they?). Plus (and even he admitted this wasn't the best of reasons) they could have done horrible things to him, but barely even brought up the possibility. They were willing to trust him - something that he'd heard came difficult to the changeling queen - and he'd given them his word.

So... he'd play along for now. And if their intentions proved foul, he'd inform the police, and let Canterlot take care of the rest. Even if it meant spending the rest of his life wondering if every pony he saw was one of them, seeking revenge...

"Got a minute, Z?"

The sudden interruption of his train of thought made him jump, and he accidentally knocked his bowl of stew off the desk. Before it reached the ground, however, it was caught by a soft amber glow. "Whoa, easy there, Z! I got you." The food was lifted up and deposited back before him with nary a drop spilled.

Zakeem looked up to see, as he'd expected, the familiar and perfectly-coiffed form of his colleague at the clinic, Dr. Hale Goodmane. Maybe it was a generational thing - the unicorn was about half his age - but the zebra was a bit ashamed that he had never really taken to the other doctor, and couldn't quite verbalize why. Goodmane was unfailingly friendly and polite, quite skilled at medicine, and donated one weekend every month to a foal's hospital in the Pronx. Yet something about him set Zakeem's teeth on edge. Perhaps it was the way the caduceus on the pony's flanks sometimes seemed gilded, the serpents' eyes gleaming like rubies...

Regardless, courtesy was also part of his nature. "I thank you for saving my meal, Dr. Hale," he said. "So what brings you hither? How can I avail?"

Instead of answering, Goodmane stepped further into the office. With his eyes fixed on the zebra, his horn glowed and the door's simple lock was magically engaged. It wouldn't keep Zakeem in, of course, but it would ensure their privacy. He shifted uneasily at his colleague's continued silence and approach. Finally, the unicorn chuckled. "Well, well, well. Now there's something I thought I'd never see."

"I don't-"

"The noble and scrupulous Dr. Zakeem..." He leaned a bit closer. "...with a guilty conscience."

The zebra flinched, horribly aware of what a terrible poker face he had. "I haven't the slightest idea what you mean," he tried. "My conduct is spotless; my conscience is clean."

Hale only smirked at this. "Right. So clean that you've been a jumpy mess all day long. Poor Purple just had a word with me; you really shouldn't worry your nurse like that." He paused, then tilted his head slightly. "Did you know your ears go back when you're trying to hide something?"

As Zakeem flushed and tried to reorient his ears, Goodmane laughed. "Relax! Relax! We're both stallions of the world here. We both know how to grab an opportunity when it presents itself, am I right?"

The zebra's brow furrowed. "...my understanding is weak. Of what topic do you speak?"

Hale leaned closer, spoke quietly. "It was the Countess, wasn't it?" He watched as another guilty flinch possessed Zakeem. "Thought so. You took a lot of extra time with her yesterday, didn't you?"

Zakeem tried to come up with an excuse, but that had never been one of his strong suits either. "...there were complications with some of the tests," he said, which was uncomfortably close to a lie; the tests were fine, the patient was complicated. "I'm sorry if taking my time caused distress."

Goodmane shook his head knowingly. "That doesn't exactly explain why you're so nervous, now does it, Z? You dumped your food when I came in, and you keep glancing at the door. Are you worried about someone showing up?"

He looked away, unable to respond. He doesn't know... he can't know...

Finally his colleague stepped back with a grin. "Gotta admit, though, this puts my mind at ease a bit. Turns out we've got something in common after all, despite that goody-four-shoes act of yours."

Zakeem stared at Goodmane in confusion. "...what?"

"I mean, I always wondered what would happen if one of the wrestlers came to you and failed their potion test."

"What?!"

"It happens more often than you'd think. Their bodies take a lot of abuse; a potion here and there can keep them in good fighting form. Personally, I think the Federation is overly strict in this regard, but I never say no to a little extra pocket change from rigging a few numbers. I figured brand-new talent like the Countess wouldn't be on the potion train yet, but shows what I know."

Zakeem stared at his colleague, completely unsure of how to feel at this point. "You... think that I wrangled a bargain with her?! To alter her lab work to show that she's pure?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Hale said soothingly. "We've all done it. It's just a perk of the job. How much did she promise you? I hear she's doing well out there; you could probably swing a couple thousand bits if you play your cards right, maybe more."

Shock and outrage began to fill the zebra. "I would never-"

"Oh, come off it," Goodmane said sharply with a frown. "We've been working together for years; I knew nopony could possibly be that squeaky clean. Why else would somepony with your skills take a job at a little clinic like this, when you could take some big cushy specialist job where you could pick your patients and work one day a week?"

Because I want to help as many as I can, and because the potion-merchant stereotype is a stubborn one, even among those who run hospitals. He opened his mouth to object, but caution closed it. This was not the time or the place; it would be hard enough for him to keep Chrysalis' secret without Goodmane poking and prying, trying to find out what agreement Zakeem had made with 'the Countess'. And did it really matter what the unicorn thought of him?

It did. It really did. Just the thought of it left him feeling grubby. But this wasn't just about him.

Then Goodmane's expression slid into another smirk. "...or maybe the deal wasn't for money?" he suggested slyly. "She looks good, if you like the type, and you were in that room together for quite a while..."

Aware that the sudden blush was showing through his fur, Zakeem glared at his colleague. "Your crude accusation is quite out of line!" he snapped. "What business I have with the Countess is mine!"

Hale chuckled again and backed off, both figuratively and literally. "And I should mind my own, is that it? Okay, okay, I get the point. I just wanted to let you know that I knew." He let that hang in the air for a moment. "Enjoy your lunch, Z." He opened the door and stepped through, then poked his head back in. "And try to relax. They won't come checking on a fake potion test for at least a week or two."

He retreated, Zakeem's glower chasing him over every inch.

Surprisingly, the interaction with Goodmane helped him get over his nervousness, if only because of how angry it had made him. To think that he was working alongside a pony - a doctor! - that would violate his code of ethics so flagrantly! For a while, Zakeem tried to recall which authorities to report him to... but then he realized that his moral high ground was barely a foothill at this point. After all, as unethical as he might be, Goodmane wasn't aiding an enemy of Equestria, now was he?

It was frustrating, but there was little he could do about it at this point. It wasn't as though he could show Goodmane the Countess' lab work to prove that she wasn't using potions. Besides, even if he could it would be a grave violation of doctor-patient confidentiality.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the day, and as he was making some notes on a patient's records in his office, Nurse Orange poked her head around the door. "That was the last patient, Doctor. If you want to head home, I'll finish cleaning up."

He looked up in faint surprise, glancing at the clock. "There are no more ponies who came seeking treatment? I thought that there might be one final appointment."

"No, the waiting room's clear." She gave him a worried look. "Please, Dr. Zakeem, I insist. Whatever you have left to do can wait until morning, can't it?"

The zebra relaxed slightly. Perhaps she couldn't make it. Perhaps she changed her mind. A sudden thought made him peer at the nurse, but... no, surely if the queen had taken her place, this would be the perfect opportunity to reveal herself. Was it all over, then? The thought was tempting. "You may have a point, and I think I'll accede. The day has been long; a good rest's what I-"

A sound behind him. A familiar sound, one you heard every day in the city, but not one normally associated with medical offices. The nurse craned her head to look past him. "Oh! You have a friend!"

Zakeem made himself turn around. There was a small black and white cat sitting on the windowsill outside of his office. Manehattan was full of strays, and no doubt one or two had visited him in this manner before without his notice, but this one was fixing him with an unwavering, oddly intelligent gaze. It meowed again insistently, slightly muffled through the glass.

...of course, changelings could turn into anything, couldn't they? Not just ponies...

"I'm sorry, kitty, but you can't come in," Purple said, sounding genuinely regretful. "Animals aren't allowed in this clinic. Oh, but you are a cutie, though!"

The cat meowed again and groomed a paw, because that's what cats did.

Thinking quickly, Zakeem shuffled the papers on his desk. "On second thought, Purple," he said brightly, "I'm changing my course. I'll clean up the clinic and lock all the doors."

She turned to look at him, the worry returning with an additional side of puzzlement. "You mean you're staying? Oh, no, doctor, I-"

"I'm sorry for making you worry and fret," he said with a reassuring smile. "I never intended to make you upset. If I've seemed distracted, it's naught but a phase; I promise my mood will rise with the sun's rays." He decisively moved past her toward the clinic's front doors, and she followed in his wake.

The nurse still seemed flustered. "I-I'm sorry I spoke to Dr. Goodmane behind your back, but you were acting so odd..."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I'm glad that you did." He couldn't stop the scowl, but forced it back before she could notice. "...some secrets are meant to be known, and not hid." How long had Goodmane been making these little deals, anyway? Years, probably, to be so comfortable about it. Zakeem felt a twinge of regret at that; he'd been more than happy to hoof over all of the EWF testing to Goodmane at his request. He felt like an accomplice. The only reason Zakeem had seen the Countess at all was because the other doctor had just coincidentally been too busy to handle her appointment this time around. Which was probably for the best, all things considered.

They arrived at the front door, and she stepped outside. "And you're sure you'll feel better tomorrow?"

"I give you my word that my mood will be bright," he said, a promise that - after the busy, busy evening that lay ahead - would test his nearly non-existent acting skills to their limit. She seemed relieved, at any rate, and nodded in acceptance. "Take care while you're on your way home, nurse. Good night."

"Good night, Dr. Zakeem. See you in the morning."

He waited until she was out of sight before locking the door. After a quick search of the premises to make sure he was alone, he returned to his office and, with a certain amount of trepidation, opened the window where the cat was still waiting. It hopped down and stood in the middle of the floor, looking pointedly at the window's blinds, which he normally kept open.

"Ah... yes." The window wasn't terribly exposed, mostly showing the wall of the dry cleaning business next door, but he supposed there was no point in taking chances. He pulled down the blinds and made sure they were secure.

As soon as he'd done so, purple light filled the room. "I want to make one thing abundantly clear," said an impressively clear and firm voice, notably higher in pitch than Chrysalis' but still indefinably similar. Zakeem turned, took in the figure of Spinnerette, and waited. "I've lived in this city for seventy years," she told him.

Despite his nervousness, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and smile slightly. Ponies sometimes tried their hoof at rhyming when talking to zebras, with mixed results. Some found it irritating, though Zakeem at least appreciated the effort. Judging from her cadence, she hadn't meant to do it - he was good at making that determination - but it was still amusing. "You don't need to speak in the ways of my kind. You're welcome to talk as you would; I don't mind."

She stared at him, confused and uncertain, then her eyes widened and she blushed fiercely. "Oh, Grogar. I-I'm so sorry, I didn't... I wasn't trying to..." The changeling queen stammered to a halt and glared at him, desperately trying to regain the upper hand. "My point, doctor, is that in all that time nopony has had even the slightest idea that I exist. Do you know what that means?"

Spinnerette's unintentional faux pas aside, there was something about the queens that made them uniquely intimidating, he decided. Something alien and uncomfortable. He wondered if that was something innate, or a reaction instilled into ponykind from centuries of being preyed upon. He mutely shook his head in response to her question.

"It means that I'm smart. I've lived on my own all that time; I didn't have a swarm at my beck and call, like my mother used to. I know Manehattan like the back of my hoof." Her glare intensified, and she stepped closer so that the discrepancy in their sizes was even more apparent. "So don't get any funny ideas about betraying us, because I will find you."

Zakeem managed a weak smile. "To turn on two queens? I'm not nearly that brave." He raised a hoof. "I swear that your secret will go to my grave. Queen Chrysalis told me of motives benign, and that her new diet was of your design. As long as her conduct appears to be just, I'll swallow my fears and extend the same trust."

She nodded, still watching him warily. "Good. So... I've never done this kind of thing before... what do you need me to do?"

Zakeem learned quite a lot about changeling queens in general and Spinnerette in particular during that examination. Although at first she stayed on the defensive, making a determined effort to give out as little information as possible...

"...don't even think about trying to weasel what I've been doing to feed out of me...!"

...the doctor had years of experience in patient relations, and had always tried to foster trust between them, to the point of being able to do so without even meaning to.

"Oh. Yes. Mother always says 'A true changeling never eats!', but I just got hooked on cabbage rolls when the yaks started moving into the city. I don't know if they actually do anything, nutrition-wise, but they taste so good..."

And once she started to get comfortable with talking, it was quite difficult to get her to stop.

"...wouldn't believe how much trouble we went through to find her a job! It was like, oh my Grogar! Just one disaster after another! I still feel bad about Poney Island..."

It was fascinating. Behind the terrifying exterior waited just a regular city filly, not much different from any you'd meet on the street and eager for social contact. But then, that's what she was, wasn't she? She hadn't spent centuries plotting in a hive, surrounded by nothing but subservient drones; she'd learned to live among ponies, in one of the largest cities in the world. Zakeem found his original misgivings fading away, and he realized he was enjoying the time he spent speaking with this charming young mare, even if she was actually three decades his senior.

The tests continued, and physiologically she was very similar to her mother, which of course came as no surprise. It turned out changelings did have a circulatory system of sorts, though the fluid within was pale green rather than red and possessed a distinctly bitter smell. He'd had to adjust the testing devices considerably and there was always the possibility that there was something he was missing, but through a microscope Spinnerette's blood analog appeared to contain a similar amount of... green squiggly things and lumpy wobbly things as her mother's. All other readings he'd thought of seemed to be comparable as well. He was keenly aware that what he was doing amounted to little more than guesswork, but at least - in the extremely unlikely event that anyone asked him - he could say he'd done his best.

Finally he set his pen aside and looked over his notes. They were as thorough as he could make them given just two non-invasive examinations, and much of it was little more than speculation on changeling biology. He'd have to hide them well; anypony else who saw them would think him insane. "So?" she asked. "How does it look?"

Zakeem gave her a wry smile. "You both seem in fine shape and doing quite well... as far as this foolish old doctor can tell. It still might be true you're both sick as a dog, but all I can do is make notes in my log." He sighed and rubbed a temple with his forehoof. "...I'm feeling quite silly for doing these tests. You needn't indulge all my selfish requests."

Her expression softened. "Don't say that, doctor. Mother pushed you into a corner, and you felt like you needed to push back. That's perfectly understandable."

"Be that as it may, I am still feeling shame, and honestly have just my own self to blame." He shook his head, then took the pen in his mouth and signed the evaluation form on the counter before him. "In my best opinion, your mother is fit. My recommendation is hers to submit."

"Thank you. She'll be happy to hear that." Spinnerette paused. "Well, no. She'll be sarcastically satisfied to hear that." She lifted the form in her magic field and tucked it away.

"And now, if you please, it has been a long day. I've chores yet to do, so let's be on our way."

"Of course." In a burst of purple, she assumed the form of the cat...

...and then returned to her true form almost instantly. A hoof rose to her abdomen and her face became a grimace of pain. "Ow. Ow. Ow..."

He rushed to her side, propelled by decades of his profession. "What is it? What aches? Are there wounds or breaks?"

"Oh, it's just a pain I've been having," she said casually, in the way of somepony who was used to downplaying their own weaknesses. "It comes and goes when I change shape, but it's no big deal. It usually goes away pretty fast when I change back." She suddenly winced, sucking air through her teeth in a hiss. "...usually."

"May I?" She hesitated, then nodded, and Zakeem very carefully laid his hoof on her torso, gently prodding. "There is something here," he decided after a moment. "Some odd unyielding mass." He lifted his head and looked at her, his expression as professional as he could make it. "How is your digestion?" he asked bluntly. "When was your last pass?"

She blushed. "I mean... yesterday? I don't, uh... need to very often, I don't think, compared to ponies. Mother rarely needs to use the restroom at all."

"Hmm." A more thorough investigation into Queen Chrysalis' digestive system, though potentially interesting, was a topic for another time, and would likely require substantial armor plating. It didn't sound like Spinnerette's condition was related to her bowels, but there was no way to rule it out, either. Despite his earlier self-recriminations, he wished now that he'd been able to do a more thorough examination of the queens, because at the moment he didn't have a clue where to start. "This pain won't be treated with guesses and gauze," he mused.

Then a thought occurred, and he glanced at the ultrascry device. Chrysalis had been adamant about not letting him use it on her true form, so he hadn't bothered asking her daughter, but now... "...may I scan your body, to find out the cause?"

She followed his gaze and eyed the device warily. "It won't hurt, will it?" Then she gasped and winced again. "Never mind, it can't be as bad as this. Let's do it."

It took some time and careful positioning - few such devices were designed to accommodate an alicorn-sized patient - but finally a picture was taken and hung on an illuminator. They both stared at it, struck speechless.

There was quite clearly something resting in her abdomen, but it definitely wasn't a lump of digested cabbage rolls.

Spinnerette broke the silence. "Is that... what I think it is?"

"I think," Zakeem said carefully, "we must call on your dam and her minion. I believe we require an expert opinion."

Deliverance (but no banjos)

Author's Note

NOTE: Added 'Sex' to the tags for mild innuendo and discussion of pregnancy-adjacent subjects. All still T rated.

Deliverance (but no banjos)

Chrysalis examined the photo silently for long moments, then snorted and glanced at her daughter. "I suppose congratulations are in order," she said. "You've finally managed to be equal to a chicken."

"So I was right," Spinnerette breathed, ignoring this. "It's an egg."

"Yes, and one well past its laying day, if I'm any judge."

The examination room was a bit crowded at this point - it hadn't been built with two queens in mind, let alone a zebra and a drone as well - but none of them seemed to mind much. All eyes were focused on the ultrascry photograph on the illuminator, where a translucent lumpy ovoid object (perhaps two hooflengths from end to end, given the scale) rested just above the hips. There was something within the ovoid, dark and curled in on itself, though it was impossible to make out much more than that.

"But... why? How did this happen?"

Zakeem and Mandible exchanged glances. "She's being sincere and she isn't a tease? She never was taught of the birds and the bees?"

"No mother figure to guide her," said Mandible sadly, though with mischief in his eyes. "Tragic, really."

"Oh, knock it off! I know about sex! You don't live as an attractive mare in this city for seven decades without receiving a few..." Spinnerette blushed. "...advances."

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. "And did you ever accept any?"

Her daughter looked away. "...w-we're getting off topic."

"Are we, though?" Her malicious smile told the world that the elder queen was thoroughly enjoying her progeny's embarrassment.

"I am not talking to my mother about my sex life!" Spinnerette snapped. "It hasn't been for a very long time, and anyway I'm pretty sure that ponies don't count!" The younger queen hesitated. "...do they?"

Mandible rubbed his chin. "I mean, what other options are there?"

"Some insectoid species are nothing but clones," Zakeem responded conversationally. "Their queen's impregnation is done by her-"

"Whoah! Hey! Do not finish that rhyme. You can leave me out of this. She's my broodmate."

Chrysalis just shook her head. "Oh, my poor, naive, foolish daughter. You don't even know what's going on with your own body."

"And you do?" the younger queen challenged.

"Of course. There's only one creature responsible for your current situation." She lifted a hoof and prodded Spinnerette in the chest. "You."

"Me?!"

"If you had just settled down and started your own hive like you were supposed to, you wouldn't be in this situation."

Mandible frowned. "Is this really the right time to be assigning blame, Mom?"

"As a matter of fact, it is, for I speak only the truth." She looked around at their confused gazes and sighed, though Mandible could tell that she enjoyed being the only creature in the room who knew something. "Very well. Listen closely, for I'll only explain this once." She paused, savoring the attention, before continuing.

"The process that creates a changeling egg has absolutely nothing to do with biology. Not with a pony, and not with a drone, and I don't know which possibility sickens me more. It is entirely - almost entirely - an act of will. The queen chooses to lay an egg, and she lays an egg. It's as simple as that. And if Spinnerette had started her own swarm in Manehattan and taken full advantage of the rich feeding ground I had given her for that express purpose," she added pointedly, "she would have soon needed to expand, at which point she would realize that the simple act of wanting a new drone would be instantly rewarded. But instead she squandered that opportunity, and look where it's gotten her."

Her daughter still seemed puzzled. "So, you're saying that I wanted this egg? But... I don't. I've never even thought about laying one."

"Ah, that is where the 'almost entirely' comes in," Chrysalis explained smugly. "When a queen's body is ready to produce eggs, but for some reason she never chooses to do so for an extended period - say, a decade or two - sometimes her body becomes particularly sensitive to her mood. Even unfocused desires for companionship are interpreted as a request for an egg, if they're strong enough. It can come as a surprise, but an experienced queen knows what it feels like to carry an egg and will react accordingly. You, however, have just been merrily going about your business with your first spawn within you, oblivious to the signs."

Spinnerette shook her head. "No, that still doesn't make sense. It's not like I'm hungry for company these days; I've got you, I've got Dib, I've got all of my friends as..." She glanced at Zakeem. "...my disguised form... I'm pretty well satisfied in the social arena."

Chrysalis frowned slightly. "...that is odd," she admitted. "And it's true that it's generally only happened to those who have isolated themselves. You're certain?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. I've definitely never felt like I needed a swarm of my own."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Ugh. You're always so stubborn about this. You're just like your Aunt Maxilla! Treasuring your precious independence to your last breath."

That stopped Spinnerette in her tracks; despite everything else that was going on, this was a detail that begged for examination. "Wait. I have an Aunt Maxilla?" She looked at Mandible, who appeared equally surprised at the news.

"You have a great many aunts, or at least had." Chrysalis' gaze became unfocused as she stared into the past. "We were a brood of queens. This was back in the dawn of time, of course, before 'Equestria' was even an idea. Dozens of us, spreading across the land like a plague, taking love as we pleased from the unwitting ponies. Oh, it was glorious."

The broodmates exchanged another glance. As comfortable as their mother was in her new profession, it wouldn't do to let her wax nostalgic over thoughts of conquest. "So, where are they all these days?"

"Oh, who knows? Who cares? It's not in our nature to keep close company with other queens, as you well know. I believe I last spoke to Maxilla some three hundred years ago; the rest I've lost contact with completely. No doubt most of them were careless and were taken down by Celestia or Starswirl. At the time of my betrayal, there were no other hives in Equestria, of that I'm certain. And that's fine by me; fewer queens means less competition."

"I think we really are getting off topic now," Mandible interjected. "If Spin never wanted an egg, then how did this one show up?"

Chrysalis glanced at the photo again. "...I suppose it could be a dud," she admitted. "An inert egg produced simply because the body needs to do something. That happens occasionally. We won't know if it's viable until we get it out."

"Okay, so how?" Spinnerette winced and rubbed her abdomen. "The sooner the better, as far as I'm concerned."

"Unfortunately," her mother remarked slowly, as though an unpleasant memory had just breached the surface, "I suspect that's easier said than done."

"Oh, come on, mother. If this is still about me not starting a swarm, then fine, I admit it: I'm a disappointment to queenkind, okay? You can just talk me through the process and-"

"If you're feeling pain even in your queen form, then it's beyond simple laying." All traces of humor were gone from her voice. "I'm afraid, Spinnerette, you've gotten yourself completely glenched up."

The younger queen blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The time between egg creation and laying should normally only be a few minutes. You've been holding this egg for, what? Days? Weeks? And you've been prancing about in your pony form as well. Shapeshifting while carrying an egg can disrupt the process, stretch your internal muscles in the wrong way. You likely don't have the strength to lay it at this point." Her gaze became unfocused again. "Maxilla's first egg was like that. She was so opposed to having a swarm that she absolutely refused to lay it. She glenched so badly she couldn't walk for a week afterwards." Then she snorted. "And went on to resist her next egg as well, the idiot."

Spinnerette gave Chrysalis a long look. "Mother. If you knew this might happen, why didn't you ever tell me?"

To her surprise, the elder queen looked genuinely abashed. "I... forgot," she admitted.

Her daughter's sharp glare lost its edge. "And here I thought it was out of spite, to punish me for being so unqueenly."

"Yes, well..." Chrysalis let out something between a grunt and a cough. "It might have been, if I'd remembered."

"...well, at least you're honest about that part. So, what now? If I can't get it out the normal way, what do we do?" She looked nervously at Dr. Zakeem, who had been taking in Chrysalis' explanation with a fierce interest only slightly tempered by the fact that he could never, ever tell anypony else about it. "S-surgery?"

"Hopefully, it shouldn't come to that," her mother said with a frown. "However, glenching is one of the few conditions a queen's body cannot resolve on its own; you'll need help. I'm trying to recall how we managed it in the past, but it's been so long, and it only happened four times before we figured out what was causing it. Twice to Maxilla, once to Gena, who got lost easily, and once to Clypeus, who had funny ideas. I helped with Clypeus, but I needed Maxilla's assistance and I have no idea where she is, or if she's even still alive. And this needs to be taken care of now."

Spinnerette stared at her. "What... now? Like, now now? Here now?! I-I don't know if I'm ready for this. Shouldn't we at least get home first?"

Chrysalis shook her head. "The longer we wait, the worse it will get. Plus, unless you can keep up a change all the way back..."

Her daughter closed her eyes briefly, then shook her head. "No way. I can't even think about changing right now."

"...then you'd have to make the trip undisguised. And this is famously the City that Never Sleeps Standing Up; there are ponies about at all hours of the day and night. Even if you fly, some insomniac pegasus will undoubtedly spot you."

The younger queen tried to think of a counter-argument, but failed. "...all right, all right... let's get it over with. But this was not what I was expecting when I came in."

"That's just in the nature of clinics, I fear," Zakeem said sympathetically. "You often learn things that you'd rather not hear."

"I will still need assistance to do this, however." Chrysalis' gaze fell on the only two candidates.

Mandible looked embarrassed. "I'll do it if you want, but I get the feeling this is gonna be all kinds of awkward for everyone involved. Besides," he added, glancing to his left, "I'm pretty sure we all know the obvious choice here."

"True," his mother acknowledged, "this is no job for a drone." She stared at Zakeem, who tried to look dependable. "...of course, it's no job for a pony, either."

"Be nice, mother." Spinnerette smiled at Zakeem. "We would be grateful for your help, Doctor."

The zebra all but saluted. "I'm ready and willing to aid this proposal." He nodded to Chrysalis. "Give me a task; I am at your disposal."

"We will need room to work. Someplace larger than this cubbyhole."

He nodded again and bustled off, with Mandible following behind to help. After he'd gone, the elder queen scowled at her daughter, who looked puzzled. "What?"

"Try to control your urges," Chrysalis said sourly. "He's far too young for you. It's disgusting."

Spinnerette continued to seem confused for a moment, then clarity arrived, followed by a slow grin. "You know," she said slyly, "most mothers would be ecstatic at the idea of fixing their daughter up with a doctor. Besides, he just has to be good with his hooves, and as a songwriter I appreciate a stallion with a good sense of... rhythm." She laughed at the elder queen's expression. "Relax, mother. I'm not exactly looking for a partner right now. I'm what they call an 'independent up-and-coming young mare that don't need no stallion holding her back'.

"Besides, he seems like the type who'd want a long-term commitment, and that's not something a queen can give anypony, is it?" She smiled a bit sadly. "We live in a world of lies."

"And we're better off for it," Chrysalis snapped. "We don't need... liaisons with our prey."

"I'm just saying, don't knock it 'til you've tried it."

They stood waiting for a time, then: "What makes you think I haven't?"

Spinnerette's eyes went wide. "You didn't!"

"Purely as a strategic investigation," Chrysalis added quickly. "I wanted to see if it would enhance the harvest of love from the subject." She snorted. "And it did, but not nearly enough to be worth the trouble. Stay away from ponies, daughter. They are food, nothing more."

Silence reigned once more as the younger queen thought about this. "...and yet you tried it out yourself, rather than having a drone do it?"

He mother's sputtering response was mercifully cut off by Mandible's return. "We're ready."

The clinic, of course, did not have anything resembling a full operating room, but did have an examination room that was actually two rooms with the wall between them removed, established for the occasional yak patient. Those were rather infrequent, so the room was largely used for storage of some of the more specialty equipment, which Zakeem and Mandible had now relocated. The room was fully prepped, and so was the doctor, clad in mask and scrubs. With his help, Spinnerette was guided to the large central bed and climbed onto it. "Is this going to hurt a lot?" she asked, trying to hide her nervousness.

Chrysalis chortled wickedly. "Oh, it's..." She caught the gaze of Zakeem, who shook his head slowly. "...not going to be too bad," she said, relenting. "Just focus on breathing slowly and steadily. And for all our sakes, try to resist the urge to transform and escape. That's something none of us would enjoy."

"Shouldn't she have anesthetic or something?" Mandible asked.

Before the doctor could explain that small clinics generally left such matters to hospitals, the elder queen shook her head. "I may be willing to accept the help of this zebra out of necessity, but I refuse to risk the chance of ponies discovering how well their chemicals can work to subdue a queen. Now, shoo. This is no place for you now."

"I'll be fine, Dib," Spinnerette assured him weakly. "Just go keep an eye out, okay?"

He laid a hoof on hers briefly. "I'm on it. Good luck, Spin." The drone left the room and closed it behind him; within, he could barely hear his mother giving orders, but it was a good, thick door and revealed nothing else. Feeling rather helpless, he shifted into the form of a mouse and scurried into the clinic's waiting room, hiding deep in the shadows and watching the pedestrians outside wander past with nary a glance at the darkened building.

An egg, huh? He never really thought the subject would come up, at least not involving Spinnerette. If Chrysalis had decided to start a new swarm, that would be one thing, but his sibling had always rebelled against the idea. Admittedly, she'd tried to take over her mother's hive when she was ten, but apparently that was just an instinctive reaction; when she was exiled to Manehattan, she'd been very cautious not to attract attention - reasoning that the more mouths to feed, the greater the chance of discovery - and had remained droneless until he'd come to find her.

He didn't know when queens became 'ready to produce eggs', as their mother had put it, but it just had to have been a long time ago, didn't it? He felt sure that Chrysalis had expected that her daughter would start her own hive not too long after her banishment (in queen terms, at least). So if Spinnerette had been capable of making one for the past fifty or sixty years at least, why was this suddenly happening now? Had Chrysalis somehow influenced her - intentionally or not - into subconsciously wanting the swarm she'd avoided for so long? It seemed unlikely; Spinnerette was hardly impressed by her mother's swarm-related accomplishments. So what exactly was going on?

Mandible hoped he wouldn't have to end up telling Rarity about this. The fashionista was, as far as he knew, the only pony to have discovered Spinnerette's existence before now. The queen just adored her work and often consulted with her for stage apparel ideas. One unfortunate slip-up - wherein Spinnerette decided, after a three-hour fitting session, that it would be better to alter herself rather than withstand another accidental pin stick - had revealed the secret, and it took all of Mandible's persuasive skills to keep the unicorn from panicking and, more importantly, telling her good friend Twilight Sparkle about the unsuspected changeling queen. Spinnerette was as yet oblivious that her stage identity had been uncovered, and Mandible did his best to keep it that way. There was a lot of 'better off not knowing' to spread around, as far as he was concerned, and that went for everycreature up to and including all of the alicorns and King Thorax himself.

Thorax. He wasn't sure how the former drone would take the news about Spinnerette. Probably extremely well, which was its own problem. He'd like as not visit Manehattan himself with Twilight in tow, to try to reform his long lost sister. Unfortunately, this would be the exact wrong way to do it; she might be more 'domesticated' than Chrysalis, but Spinnerette was still a queen, with a queen's instincts. The harder you pushed her, the more she'd resist. Too hard, and she might well abandon Harmony Delight altogether, escaping with her mother to regions where not even Mandible could find them. But unless Rarity spilled the proverbial beans, this was unlikely to be an issue. The elder queen had never exactly advertised Spinnerette's existence, for fear of losing drones to desertion, and had only entrusted a select few with the secret. Thorax had never been one of the hive's top operatives, so unless the changeling assigned to keep tabs on Chrysalis' daughter decided to tell him about her, he probably wouldn't find out. And since that changeling was Mandible...

Still, an egg? Maybe followed by a swarm? What would Spinnerette do with a swarm, other than perhaps raise her own legion of backup singers?

But... what if she decided to follow in her mother's hoofsteps after all? Rule Manehattan from the shadows with an iron hoof and her own army, taking love the old fashioned way? He'd have no choice but to turn her in then... right?

He hoped it wouldn't come down to that. It wasn't a decision he wanted to have to make. He'd turned on Chrysalis because that had been what was best for the rest of the changelings, but to betray his own broodmate... he didn't like the feel of that, not one bit. When he'd found her, she was living out of a small, leaky apartment in the Pronx, only managing to scrape by because she didn't have to buy food. He'd seen her talent, nurtured it, allowed to to grow, and together they'd taken the Manehattan music scene by storm. That wasn't what was best for the changelings, who had no need for a queen anymore, even one in exile, but it was best for her. He was sure the old Chrysalis would have berated him for such sentimental garbage, but the old Chrysalis didn't have a say in the matter anymore. He felt like he had a responsibility to look after Spin, and he was going to do just that.

He heard the examination door open, and Chrysalis' voice roused him from his musings. "Mandible." He quickly scampered back toward the room, turning back into an unreformed drone along the way.

"You did very well," Chrysalis crooned, patting her daughter's forehead with a towel.

Lying on the examination bed, Spinnerette watched her a bit nervously, too tired to push her away either physically or magically. "You're being motherly. It's weird. Stop it."

"And why shouldn't I be? You've finally managed what I wanted you to do all those decades ago." She beamed. "Just look at you. At last, you've taken your first step toward becoming a true queen."

Her daughter snorted. "What happened to 'fewer queens means less competition'?"

"Under most circumstances, yes. But I'm certain my darling daughter and I could reach an accommodation."

"...as long as I agree to everything you want, I'm guessing."

"But of course," Chrysalis said, without shame. "I am your mother, after all."

She noticed Spinnerette wasn't paying much attention, and she followed her daughter's gaze to the glistening green ovoid sitting in a nest of towels nearby. The surface seemed less translucent now, but there was still clearly something within, moving occasionally.

Mandible regarded it curiously. He'd seen his fair share of eggs back in the hive, and this seemed a typical example. "Doesn't seem like a dud to me," he said.

Zakeem was all but hovering over the egg, examining it as thoroughly as he could for somepony with absolutely no basis of comparison to work with. "Heartbeat seems... stable," he said, letting the stethoscope fall and laying a hoof extremely gently on the egg's surface. "Temperature remains... fine?" He gave up and wrote in his notebook for a moment, then looked at Chrysalis. "I'll leave it to you to interpret the signs."

"No need to fret, doctor. A changeling egg is more sturdy than you'd think."

"Are you sure?" Spinnerette asked, her wings fluttering with anxiousness. "It wasn't damaged?"

Chrysalis just smiled at her. "Why, daughter. You're sounding positively maternal over this. Didn't you say you never wanted this egg?"

The younger queen's expression was decidedly awkward. "Well... I didn't say I hated the idea. It came as a surprise, sure, but... it's mine." Her words had a fierce possessive tone about them.

Her mother chuckled. "I quite understand." She noticed Zakeem standing pensively nearby, quite clearly having something on his mind. "What is it?"

He hesitated a moment longer before speaking. "This might seem quite rude, but I feel I must know." He glanced again at the egg, then at Spinnerette. "When a changeling transforms, where does it all go?"

She furrowed her brow. "All what?"

"When Spinnerette came, she was shaped like a cat," he explained, and turned to the egg. "But this thing is clearly far larger than that! I'm sorry if this sort of question seems crass, but where in the world do you put all that mass?"

"You mean... where do the extra bits of changeling go?" He nodded.

The three others looked at each other for a time, as though they had been just asked 'how big is a hole?' or 'where does the morning go?' It was... not quite a nonsensical question, but one that had never occurred to them to ask.

Finally they turned to him and said, in unison, "Sideways."

"S-sideways?"

"Yeah," said Mandible. "If you get smaller, it goes to the left. And if you get bigger, more comes from the right."

"It's more of a clockwise/counterclockwise turning motion," Spinnerette disagreed.

"You're both wrong," Chrysalis insisted. "It's better described as a corkscrew, with a widdershins twist. And at any rate," she added with an air of finality that dashed the doctor's hopes for further enlightenment, "eggs aren't supposed to go that way, so I probably should check this one for any issues."

She approached the egg and inspected its surface with an expert's eye. "Hmm," she said finally. "Seems to be all right... A few external striations, but that's to be expected..." Her horn began to glow, and the egg was bathed in its light. "Now, let's have a peek at who-"

Chrysalis stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowing as if she'd suddenly been presented with a rather tricky puzzle. The other changelings looked at each other. "...everything all right?" Spinnerette asked.

The elder queen didn't respond at first, her attention wholly focused. "...tell me, daughter," she said, her expression unreadable, "what word would you use to describe your current lifestyle?"

"...uhh..." She turned to Mandible, who shrugged. "...well, I guess..." Her mind flicked back to the conversation she'd had with Heavy Foundation just two days ago. "...comfortable? Yeah. I like where I am right now, and things are going really well. Mother, what's this all about?"

"...I see," Chrysalis said, ignoring her daughter again and speaking softly to herself. "Yes, that all makes sense. Why didn't I notice earlier? This is no drone egg..."

"Mother, speak up! What are you muttering about?"

The elder queen stepped sharply back from the egg. "Is there time? It's hard to say, she was carrying it for so long. No, but I have to try. I have to!" She turned and sped out the door; even in her changeling form, Chrysalis could move at surprising speed when she wanted to, and she was gone before anyone could react.

"M-Mother?!" Spinnerette called. "Where are you going?!"

"To the store!"

"Well, what are we supposed to do with-"

There was a distant sound of a window being thrown open, a rush of flame, a flurry of pigeon wings, then silence.

"...the egg." They all looked at it in sudden uncertainty. "Okay, what the heck was that all about? Why did she just abandon us?"

"No idea," Mandible replied. "I couldn't make out what she was saying. But I get the feeling there's something special about this egg..."

"Well, that's all well and good, but what are we supposed to do about it? Do I have to... I dunno... sit on it? Keep it warm?"

"I doubt it. Mom kept the drones out of the hatching chamber for the most part, but I'm pretty sure they just hatch on their own within a day or two. Either way, though, we should probably get it home." With a burst of blue, he was replaced by a storm-grey pegasus outfitted with a large courier bag, a common sight in the city.

"Good call." She started to climb down from the bed and nodded to Zakeem. "Thank you for everything, doctor. You didn't have to-"

The moment her hoof touched the floor, her leg buckled beneath her and she stumbled to the ground with a surprised expression.

"Spin!" Mandible and Zakeem rushed to her side and helped her up. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just..." She wobbled dangerously. "...I guess this all just took a lot out of me."

Mandible frowned. "Don't want you walking home, then, let alone flying... can you change into something smaller, so I can carry you?"

Spinnerette hesitated, then became a small mouse... but only briefly, returning to her normal form with a gasp. "Still too sore," she reported, her voice strained. "Nothing smaller than pony sized, I think."

Her broodmate regarded her for a moment, wearing an expression of concentration. "...okay. New priority is getting you home first. The egg can wait."

"But-"

"I can't keep tabs on both of you the whole way, Spin. It's too risky. You might knock me over, and then what happens to the egg?"

"Well, can't I just rest here until I feel better?" she asked, a bit desperately. "I'm sure I'll be better by morning, lunchtime at most."

"I'm sorry, but that's an idea that's not right," Zakeem told her. "This clinic does not care for patients all night."

Mandible nodded. "Yeah, it's no hospital. Ponies are supposed to just show up, get checked, and leave. When the staff shows up in the morning and finds you, there's gonna be a lot of questions, and you'll be in no state to make your getaway. It's okay; I'll come right back and pick it up, I promise." Her expression was still one of intense worry, so he reached out and lifted her chin. "Hey. I'm not gonna let anything happen to either of you, okay?"

She looked... forlorn was the best word he could think of. "I just feel like I haven't gotten to make a lot of choices for myself today."

"I'm sure that this evening has left you distressed," Zakeem told her, "but all things considered, the drone's plan is best." He gave her a kind smile. "The smart thing to do is to go home and rest."

She couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. "Ooo, a triple. All right, all right. Doctor's orders, I get it." She returned his smile. "You know, if I had to be revealed to anypony... I'm glad it was you, doctor."

"Come see me next week, and I'll check you once more." There was a glint of mirth in his eye. "Perhaps you might even come through the front door."

Spinnerette laughed. "I'll do my best."

Her broodmate briefly took the form of a dragon, the better to carry the egg, and followed Zakeem back to his office, setting it carefully down on a couch. The egg wasn't round enough to roll unexpectedly, and it throbbed gently as cushions were piled around it. Zakeem fussed over it for a moment until he was satisfied. Then a thought clearly occurred, and Mandible could easily guess it from his expression: what if it hatches? What if it hatches?!

"Don't worry," the drone assured him. "If it hatches, it's just gonna be a harmless, helpless grub. Just shove it in a box or a desk drawer or something. I'll only be gone an hour or so."

"I hope, for my own sake, you do hurry back," the zebra said nervously, glancing at the egg again. "I'd like this resolved before things start to crack."

After Mandible had helped his sibling out the window and then to the street to hail a carriage, Zakeem returned to the examination room to give it a thorough cleaning, and not just for hygiene's sake. He knew without being told that it would be best to scrub all traces of changeling presence from the premises.

The door was thick, and the labor intensive, so he couldn't hear it when a key was inserted into the clinic's front door. Didn't know it when somepony made their way deliberately down the hallway, not thinking much of the fact that the lights had been left on.

And in the darkness of Zakeem's office, where Spinnerette's egg gently twitched in its nest, a soft amber glow enveloped the cheap doorknob and carefully manipulated the lock.

A Lyin' Egg Gathers No Moss

Zakeem pushed the last medical device back into place and looked over his hoofiwork with satisfaction. Nopony could possibly suspect that the miracle of life had occurred here less than an hour ago. His head was still reeling a bit from that; not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined assisting with the delivery of a changeling queen's first egg.

Speaking of which, he needed to go back and check on his 'patient'. Despite the drone's reassurances, he was really hoping that he wouldn't have to deal with a newly hatched changeling. Pediatric medicine wasn't his primary field, and even if it were he doubted much of it would apply to whatever came out of that egg.

The zebra returned to his office and dipped into his coat pocket for the key, but as he brought it to the door's lock, he heard a faint sound on the other side. His blood ran cold. He'd closed the window after Mandible and Spinnerette, he was sure of that, so there was only one possible reason behind the noise.

Well... how bad could it possibly be? Harmless, helpless grub, hadn't the drone said? Although he'd also said he'd never had to interact with grubs much, so Zakeem decided to take that with a grain of salt. Perhaps it would be better to wait for Mandible's return before...

Something behind the door said "Wow!" He couldn't convince himself it was the hatchling, and quickly revised his previous assessment about the noise. All caution forgotten, he unlocked the door (barely noticing that it had already been unlocked) and threw it open.

And standing there, holding Zakeem's notebook in an amber field and poring through it in rapt fascination, was the worst case scenario.

"Doctor Goodmane!"

The unicorn started, nearly dropping the notebook. "Zakeem? ! Uh..." He hesitated, but only briefly. "...h-hey, careful there. buddy. No need to scare ponies like that. Almost gave me a heart attack." He casually looked back down at Zakeem's notes, though there was an unmistakable tension in his stance.

The zebra did not normally become angry quickly or easily, but this time he was willing to give it a shot. "You-!"

Goodmane raised a placating hoof. "Now, hold on a minute, Z. Before you work yourself up to having to find a rhyme for 'What are you doing here?' or 'Explain yourself!', I'm doing this for your benefit."

Zakeem sputtered. "You really expect me to believe this lie?! Please think of a better one; give it a try!"

"Swear to Celestia, my friend. See, I couldn't get my mind off the deal you made with the Countess. I figured you're probably new to this kind of thing, and I didn't want you to fall into any rookie mistakes, know what I mean? I couldn't bear seeing you carted away over some simple oversight, so I helped myself into your office just to make sure you hadn't left anything..." He gestured vaguely. "...I don't wanna say 'incriminating', so let's call it... 'inconvenient'. Yeah, nothing too 'inconvenient' lying around. See? I'm only thinking of you."

And to make sure you weren't caught up in any investigation of the clinic, Zakeem was certain. But he could do little but glare. His hoof had been caught in the metaphorical cookie jar; the other doctor held all the cards at the moment.

"But imagine my surprise," Goodmane continued, setting the notebook down and turning toward the couch, "when I turned on the light and saw this little beauty." He leaned in close to the egg, his expression one of delightedd amazement. "Z, how in the world did you get your hooves on a changeling egg? That is what this is, right? I mean, it's just gotta be." The egg's inhabitant twitched and wobbled, completely oblivious to the scene unfolding outside.

He looked up at the zebra, but a herd of angry yaks couldn't have pulled an explanation from Zakeem's mouth at this point. "No? Well, let's think this through, then. It wasn't here earlier, and when I left it was just you, your nurse, and Mr. Shuffle Step again, and I doubt he had anything to do with this. So it has to have come from one of your other patients, since you probably wouldn't have met anyone else here for... 'nefarious purposes'.

"And then there's this," he added, looking back at the notebook. "Your mouthwriting's kind of hard to read, but all these measurements... you can't have made all of them in the last few hours. And where did you even..."

Then he stopped and looked at the zebra, his mouth falling open. Zakeem closed his eyes, hoping beyond all hope that Goodmane wasn't about to say what he knew he would...

"The examination. The extra time you spent with her. The Countess is Queen Chrysalis."

Zakeem flinched, but said nothing.

"Oh... oh, wow." Goodmane held a hoof to his head, reeling from the revelation. "Nopony's heard a peep about her since she got literally dethroned, and she just... shows up at our clinic? As a wrestler? Why a wrestler?" Then he gave a rueful little laugh. "And of course the one time I'm overbooked and have to let you do the physical is the day you win the absolute jackpot. She gave you this egg in exchange for keeping her secret, didn't she ?"

Zakeem hesitated, but couldn't correct him without revealing Spinnerette's existence, and Goodmane took his silence for agreement. "Oh, Z. You've stumbled in some serious meadow muffins here." Then he bent down for another close look at the egg. "But don't you worry, my friend. I'm gonna take care of everything."

That sounded a great many alarm bells in Zakeem's head. "I am not quite sure what you're trying to say, but I have this handled, so please go away!"

"Trust me, Z. You're gonna want to hear me out." Goodmane straightened up and turned to face Zakeem, his eyes shining. "I've made a few... contacts over the years. I know a pony who knows a pony, you know? There's a unicorn uptown who'd pay top bit for something like this. And if we throw in your notes as well? We'd be rolling in riches by tomorrow night!" Then he frowned. "Unless it's viable. If it's gonna hatch, that's a different story altogether. I'm not about to sell some baby changeling on the black market. Standards, am I right? Still... I bet I can figure something out..."

The zebra nearly fainted on the spot. He didn't dare even think about the queens' response if that happened. "You presume too much in this circumstance, Hale. The egg and my notebook are just not for sale!"

Goodmane just stared at him, confused. "What, are you gonna... I dunno, turn it in for a reward or something? That's noble and all, but you know they'd have to start looking into how you got it."

"That is not my plan," Zakeem growled. "You don't understand!"

"You're not thinking of keeping it, are you? If it does hatch, it's not going to be one of the reformed ones, you know; it'll drain you dry!"

"No!"

The other doctor scowled at him. "I don't think you realize how dangerous it's gonna be if we don't get rid of this thing, Z. Just let me take care of it. Or would you rather get reported to the authorities for aiding a fugitive?"

Zakeem's eyes narrowed. "So that is your goal, then: a round of extortion. You'll call the police unless you get your portion?"

Goodmane looked shocked. "That's hurtful, my friend. I wouldn't do that to you. Not even for..." He glanced at the egg, hesitating only briefly. "...the really huge amount of bits we could get for that thing. But you have to understand, getting in trouble with the law is a real risk.we're facing right now. Not just the two of us; the whole clinic might get caught up in it. One false move, and they could shut this place down!" Goodmane took a long breath. "Look. I get the feeling you don't approve of my little side gig, and I apologize for assuming you were in on it too; this is obviously something way bigger than just a tweaked potion test. But I need you to believe me: I only want what's best for everyone here."

Oddly enough, Zakeem did believe him, and that just made him even more uncomfortable. "I cannot explain," he said slowly, "and I ask you to trust. I have to keep hold of the egg, Hale. I must!"

They glared at each other for long moments, then Goodmane seemed to relent. "If that's your decision, then... I guess that's the way it's got to be."

Zakeem relaxed slightly, but only slightly. There was still a calculating look about his colleague.

Then Goodmane looked around himself, as if seeing the room for the first time. "Y'know, while we're here, have I ever told you how much I like your office?"

The zebra blinked at the non sequitur. "Pardon?"

"Your office! I love what you've done here. It shows a real eye for interior design. I especially," he added, nodding down at the egg's makeshift nest, "like this couch."

"...your oddly-timed flattery shall not prevail. Whatever you're planning, I promise you'll fail."

"Nothing but the truth, my friend. This thing is top-notch quality. Just look at these cushions, for example. They're so stylish! Durable! Hefty!"

And then his horn lit up, and every cushion not currently supporting the changeling egg rose into the air around Goodmane, who gave the zebra a bright smile. "Throwable!"

Zakeem's eyes grew wide, but he couldn't react fast enough to dodge, and the barrage of felt and stuffing pummeled him back into the hallway. He quickly regained his hooves, but the cushions were wedged in the doorway and it took a moment to clear a path. As he did so, he heard the window open, then the sound of a pony clambering through it, with a shout of "You'll thank me later!"

He kicked the last cushion aside and stormed into the office. The egg, of course, was gone, as was his notebook . He immediately climbed through the window and glanced around the alleyway. One end opened into the street, and Goodmane certainly wouldn't have risked being seen with a strange egg in tow; that would stick in ponies' memories. Zakeem raced the other way, and followed the alley as it took a right angle behind the clinic. Yes, there he was, some distance ahead.

The unicorn was younger and in better condition, but had to move more carefully for fear of damaging the egg, which floated just ahead of him. Though his lungs were already starting to burn, Zakeem managed to keep pace, until he followed Goodmane around another corner and saw...

...nothing.

He fought down the rising panic. There was little cover in this part of the alley, no other corners to hide around. Where could he have...?

As he stepped forward, his hoof struck something metal, and he looked down to see a service ponyhole leading, he presumed, to the sewer system. The cover was almost, but not entirely, flush with the ground, and... was that a glimmer of amber he saw around the edges, shining up from below? He couldn't be positive, but he had no other choice.

With a quick kick, he managed to shove the iron cover out of the way, and - his sense of hygiene complaining all the way - carefully descended down the ladder within.

"You're doing great, Harmony. Almost there."

"I'm fine, Blitz. I don't need to be pampered every step of the way."

"Yeah, yeah. You're an independent up-and-coming young mare that don't need no stallion holding her back."

"Darn right! I can manage on my don't drop me don't drop me!"

"Ah, so you do need a stallion holding you up."

"Ha ha. But... point taken. I'm sorry, and thank you."

"Any time. Can you manage the door?"

“I think so. One second.”

There was a clatter of keys, then the apartment door was pushed open to reveal Harmony Delight and her personal agent, Promo Blitz, a rather bland-looking earth pony. She leaned heavily against him as she limped through the doorway. Once the door was closed, a twin burst of flame replaced them with Spinnerette and Mandible, the latter of whom staggered slightly under his sibling’s increased size and weight. “Sorry!” she said quickly.

“You’re good. Let’s just get you into bed so you can rest.” He helped her down the hallway… or, rather, partway down the hallway. Three steps in, they both stopped in their tracks, nostrils flaring. ”Ugh!”

“What is that smell?!” Spinnerette demanded, one hoof lifted to cover her muzzle.

Mandible tested the air again cautiously. “It’s like… gutter water… burning rubber.. and…” He blinked. ”…cinnamon?”

They shared a glance, then advanced further into the apartment. “It’s weird,” Spinnerette said, “but it’s not that bad as you get used to it. Or is it just me?”

“Yeah. And it seems kind of… I dunno, familiar to me somehow,” he replied. He helped her onto a couch, then looked around, sniffing. “But where’s it coming from?”

The door to the kitchen swung open, introducing a fresh waft of the pungent odor as well as a unicorn familiar to them both, though for one it was mostly by use of a mirror.

“There you are,” said Harmony Delight with a scowl. “What took you so long?” Patches of her cream-colored fur were stained with a thick grey substance of some kind.

“Spin wasn’t fit to fly,” Mandible said, taking this in stride, “so we had to get a coach. Not too many this time of night.”

“You’re wearing my face, mother,” Spinnerette noted, in much the manner of somepony mentioning the unauthorized use of a favorite sweater.

Harmony looked down at herself. “Oh. Yes.” In a flash of green, Chrysalis took her place. The stains carried over, but at least they were less visible now. “I suppose I was in too much of a hurry to change back,” she mused.

“Why were you even using it in the first place?”

“Well, I could hardly come in through the front door as the Countess, now could I?” Chrysalis said, as if that explained everything. “The doorponies here are distinctly unreasonable about letting in non-residents.”

Mandible nodded. They’d never gotten around to adding Chrysalis to the lease, mainly for ‘better off not knowing’ reasons. Of course, the Countess could absolutely afford her own apartment in the city, but the issue had never come up and he wasn’t interested in pressing the issue. It was probably better for absolutely everyone that Chrysalis wasn’t left unsupervised. “And why,” he asked patiently, “did you have to come in through the front door? You normally use the vents.”

“I was carrying too many groceries. For the scrimblecakes.”

“The scrimblecakes.”

“That's what I said.”

He peered past her into the kitchen, which was a disaster. It wasn't as though Spinnerette used it much anyway, other than for tea and the occasional attempt at preparing homemade cabbage rolls, but she kept it clean and well-appointed to maintain her pony identity, just in case of surprise visitors. Now the clumpy grey material that still clung to Chrysalis’ hide was everywhere, mostly on trays but also on every conceivable surface. It would be a serious cleaning job to remove it, and judging from the way some of the stains were setting, a chisel would be required.

“You’ve been cooking?” Spinnerette said, astonished. Mandible quietly agreed with the sentiment; the idea of their mother doing anything quite so domestic was all but unthinkable.

“You don’t cook scrimblecakes,” Chrysalis replied, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “You let them congeal.”

“I'm guessing this explains why it smells like a Hearth's Warming storm drain in here,” Mandible noted.

“I did have to make some ingredient substitutions,” she admitted, “so they’re not quite what they should be. The local shops have an abysmal selection of tar, gristle, and husks. I had to make do.”

“Fair enough. So now, for the million bit question: What Is A Scrimblecake?”

Chrysalis glanced behind her and levitated one of the trays into view. A number of bulbous shapes, grey and vaguely round, wobbled gently upon them. “Treats for the little one.”

He regarded them with deep suspicion. The things looked anything but appetizing, though a grub probably wouldn’t care either way. Did grubs even eat? His recollection from before his metamorphosis was incredibly vague, and the changeling larval stage was fairly brief in any case. The smell of them was still somewhat unpleasant, but no longer as foul as it had been originally, and made him think of-

-an oddly sweet scent in the lowest levels of the hive, down underground where it was always warm, even in winter, and a deep but somehow friendly rumble shook the walls…

Mandible blinked. Where had that come from?

He looked again at the scrimblecakes. They would be… sour as an overripe apple, he knew, and somehow gritty, especially to the mouth of a young drone that had never experienced food except while transformed. There had been one dropped and forgotten in a corner, and his curiosity had driven him to-

There was a sharp pain in his hoof, delivered by a magically floating ladle. He realized he’d been unconsciously reaching for a scrimblecake. “Those aren’t for you,” Chrysalis said sternly. “Anyway, they haven’t hardened yet.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want one of the nasty things, but the memory had been one of deep contentment, something exceedingly rare in the hive. “And this is what you abandoned us for?” he asked reproachfully. “We could’ve really used your help.”

“Proper nutrition is the foundation of the hive,” she said, immune to reproach.

He snorted. “This from the queen who was literally starving us.”

“I never said it was about your nutrition.” She returned the tray to the kitchen. “And on that subject, where is the little hatchling-to-be?”

Knowing that Spinnerette already felt guilty about leaving it behind, Mandible spoke quickly. "I decided that it wasn't safe to try to bring both of them back at once. Zakeem's keeping an eye on the egg until I get back."

He expected a flare of anger, or accusations of incompetence. Instead, Chrysalis simply looked at him in surprise. "You left it at the clinic? With the doctor?"

"...yes?"

"Oh." She tilted her head briefly in thought, then shrugged. "For the best, I suppose. It's a bit of a shame, though. He seemed quite respectable. For a pony."

He stared at her, an odd feeling of dread rising within him. "You're using the past tense and I don't like it. Is something going to happen with the egg?"

"Oh, no. Well," she amended, "not necessarily. It's just that they can get so... feisty when they're newly hatched."

The dread increased. "What are you saying, mom? Is he in danger?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," she said, and decades of experience told him she was lying. "It's just that the egg was glenched for so terribly long. Who knows how that might have affected its behavior? It could act quite erratic."

He continued to stare for a moment, then turned to look at Spinnerette, who appeared equally aghast. "...I think," he said, "I should go back to the clinic now."

"I think you should hurry," she replied.

"I think you're right." Without further preamble, he turned into a fly and vanished into the building's ventilation system.

Spinnerette frowned in worry. "Maybe I should go with him."

Her mother gave her a piercing look. "Do you think you should, or are you sure?"

"...uh..." She frowned, puzzled. "I guess I'm not completely sure...?"

"Then we still have time," Chrysalis decided, in a tone that brooked no argument. "You just sit there and rest while I make you some of that hot leaf juice you like so much."

Spinnerette blinked. "Mother, do you even know how to make tea?"

"Please. You're speaking to Queen Chrysalis, victor of countless battles and very nearly conqueror of Equestria." She turned and stalked back into the kitchen. "I am certainly more than capable of making a simple cup of tea."

They put the fire out, eventually.

The sewer was noisome and disgusting, but Zakeem couldn't let himself worry about that right now. He made his way forward in the gloom, somehow managing to keep Goodmane just in sight. Fortunately the unicorn had to maintain a strong hornlight, both to carry the egg and to illuminate his own way forward.

Which was why it was so strange when the light suddenly disappeared.

Zakeem quickly slowed to a halt, for fear of falling into the water. He looked around himself as he gasped for breath, taking stock of the long stretch of tunnel before him. There was a large amount of detritus and garbage here, old wooden crates stacked high in some abandoned attempt to sort everything out. It was illuminated by a magical light at the far end of the tunnel, but as it had been installed by the lowest bidder and was decades old in any case, it was incredibly dim.

He twisted his ears forward, trying to quiet his panting. He didn't think Goodmane would have had time to make it to the end of the long tunnel before Zakeem had reached this point, so where...?

There. The sound of somepony else trying to muffle their own desperate intake of oxygen. The run had taken its toll on Goodmane as well, unicorns being the least physically fit of the pony races. He was close, hiding somewhere among the debris.

"You must... come back with me... so I can explain!" the zebra called out between breaths. "This folly is not worth... the money you'll gain!"

"This isn't about... the money!" There was a pause for self-reflection. "Okay, it's not just about the money."

Zakeem slowly made his way forward, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"You have no idea what kind of trouble you're getting into here! You're way too nice a guy to pull this off! Just go home and I'll take care of everything!"

"You don't comprehend, Hale, the danger you dare! The wrath of the queen will be too much to bear!"

"What does... nff... she care?" Goodmane asked, his voice oddly strained. "She... hrrg... gave you the egg. What did she.... uh! ...expect you to do with it?"

Zakeem stopped. Goodmane sounded nearby, behind a tall stack of crates... which had begun to wobble.

"Look out!" the other doctor shouted as he gave the stack a final shove. Zakeem quickly stumbled back as the crates toppled, ending up on his rear but fortunately avoiding anything more undignified. As he picked himself back up, he saw Goodmane's hornlight vanishing around the corner, egg in tow. With a scowl, he made his way around and over the crates, and the chase was resumed.

Mandible surveyed the office’s condition, and very carefully refrained from panicking. He’d already suspected trouble when he noticed the wide-open window, and the complete lack of both egg and doctor within confirmed it. The scattered couch cushions were a bit of a mystery, but unlikely to be important.

In a burst of blue, the bird he was became a hound, which started investigating the room by smell. There was the egg, still unhatched, the scent fading with the faint breeze from the open window. He hadn’t smelled Zakeem in their brief interactions, of course, but his had to be the room’s primary scent, earthy with a faint tinge of sleeping elixir, because you never fully took the zebra out of alchemy. A slight floral scent near the door which was likely the nurse’s perfume… and another, a recent visitor, smelling strongly of mane gel. This scent had lingered near the desk for a while, then the couch, and from there flowed out the door, followed by Zakeem’s, with the egg’s mixed in as well.

He climbed out the window and snuffled along the alley, following the smells even as they slowly dissipated. They led him eventually to an open ponyhole, and the reek rising from below meant that a hound’s nose would be more of a hindrance than an aid. Steeling himself, he leapt into it, turned into a bat halfway down, and flew through the tunnels in a desperate search.

(“Mother, are you sure Dr. Zakeem will be all right?”)

“Okay, okay! Forget about the money! The money is off the table!”

Zakeem stood at the entrance to a large room, some sort of… runoff overflow chamber or something? Sewer architecture was something beyond his ken. But there were no visible exits, so there was nowhere else for Goodmane to run. Unfortunately, what the chamber did have was numerous supporting columns, ancient debris, and not very much light at all, so by refraining from igniting his horn, the unicorn could be hiding anywhere.

“What if we turned the egg over to the reformed changelings?” The echoes made it impossible to pinpoint Hale’s location. “I hear they haven’t quite worked out reproduction yet. They’d love to have a new member of the herd! We’d be heroes!”

(“Well. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m ‘sure’.”)

He hesitated, unwilling to stray too far from the entrance in case Goodmane made a break past him. Then his eyes fell on an old service lantern hanging from a hook on the wall, and after trying its switch a few times, it miraculously flickered to life. And then continued to flicker at random, but it was better than staying in the dark. He gripped the handle in his mouth – or rather started to, then quickly changed his mind and wrapped a handkerchief around it first - and crept forward.

“Or maybe we can donate it to science! They could put it into magical stasis and study it! Just think what we could learn! What medical advances we could discover!”

Every step was a cautious tread, muted by the ancient damp stone.

“And it’d be all because of us! Two doctors from a little clinic in the middle of-“

(“It really depends on how it feels when it hatches.”)

And then a new sound echoed through the chamber. It was far too wet to be a cracking, but rather more of a sticky separation of gelatinous matter. Zakeem stopped in his tracks.

“What, now?! Really?” There was a pause, then an amber light began to glow in a small alcove on the far side of the room, which had been completely hidden in the darkness until now. “Oh, boy, this is the real thing. Uh… Z? Z?! It’s hatching. It’s hatching and things are moving and I don’t know what to do because I cheated on that obstetrics test and it’s climbing out, oh sweet Celestia it’s climbing out.”

“You must stay calm and must prepare!” Zakeem commanded, moving the lantern to a hoof briefly. “This new life now is in your care!”

(“It could hatch feeling playful…”)

“Oh, boy. Oh, jeez. Z? This is… not going how I expected, I’ll be honest. Whaddaya say we… put a pin in this discussion and head back to the clinic for now?”

Zakeem sighed in relief. “The wisest decision you’ve come to this night,” he said. “Just pick up the grub, and we’ll make it all right.”

“O-okay. Okay. I can do that.” The hornlight shifted. “H-hey, little guy. You and me are gonna be best fr-“

(“…or it could hatch feeling hungry.”)

There was a hissing snarl from the alcove, and then a sudden yelp from Goodmane. “Hey, get off! Get-!“ Another snarl, and abruptly the hornlight winked out, leaving Zakeem’s lantern as the only source of light. “Let go of me!” the unicorn shouted, though his voice was distinctly muted. ”Let go!”

Then the alcove was filled with a burst of purple light, and there was a suggestion of violent movement in the gloom. Goodmane began to shout wordlessly, his voice nevertheless growing more difficult to hear by the second. After a particularly vicious motion, something small and round was sent bouncing out, rolling to a stop in the chamber’s central water channel. It was the empty egg, which began to gently dissolve in the noisome fluid.

And then there was silence.

Zakeem managed to free himself from the paralysis of terror and, against his better judgement, took a step forward, raising the lantern as high as he could. “…Hale?” There was something in the alcove, something big, and it moved…

(“And when they’re hungry, they’re very hungry.”)

It was at this exact point that the lantern, needless to say, went out.

He froze in place, and more pertinently in the near total darkness. If he tried to run from… whatever the thing was, he would almost certainly trip and fall or, worse, slam headlong into one of the room’s many columns. He would need light. Gripping the handle in his mouth again, he desperately began to work the switch, trying to coax just a little bit more magic from its decayed storage crystal.

There was a heavy clacking noise, chitin on stone. It grew closer, perhaps attracted by the clicking of the switch. Zakeem stopped, and so did the clacking. He had the undeniable impression of something very large nearby, its breath heavy and hot, a strong musty odor permeating the air around it…

The lantern chose that moment to turn back on. And whatever Zakeem had expected a newly hatched changeling to look like, it was not this.

It was much longer than it was tall, standing on six spindly legs that seemed too thin to support it and ended in rounded, featureless nubs. It wasn’t segmented like an insect, but had a tapered, oddly rectangular body covered in overlapping chitinous plates that ran the entire length of its body from a wide and flat front to its blunted end. It had no visible eyes, but still seemed to focus on Zakeem from mere hooflengths away, a very low rumble rising from deep within.

And it was much bigger than a pony. He could state this empirically based on the fact that he could see a pony leg that matched Goodmane’s chartreuse still protruding from the creature’s mouth, possibly still attached to the rest of the pony. There was a slurping noise, and the leg was gone.

Zakeem stared at the thing, too frightened to move. It didn’t exactly stare back, but the rumble never stopped.

And then it roared, shaking the entire chamber.

(“Yes… very hungry indeed.”)

A Little Tone Shift Never Hurt Anyone

The teacup fell to the carpet, spilling its contents. It just barely avoided being crushed by Spinnerette as she stood from the couch abruptly, her eyes wide.

Chrysalis, who had been watching her daughter like a hawk from her preferred forelegchair, relaxed slightly. "Ah," she murmured, "there it is. I thought it wouldn't be long."

"It's hatched!" the younger queen announced, and her head swiveled to face the general direction of the clinic. "I... I have to go to it!"

"Yes, yes, of course you do. Just give me a minute or two to get ready, and we'll go toge-"

The door to the apartment's balcony was magically slid open, and Spinnerette took a step forward. "I have to go!"

"You're not leaving here looking like that!" her mother snapped. "Change first!"

"...o-oh! Right!" In a flash of purple, she became a pegasus, who pushed through the vertical blinds and out onto the balcony. A flap of wings, and she was gone. Any paparazzi seeking the newest scandal might note the departure of the unknown pegasus from Harmony Delight's apartment, but the building's security generally did well in keeping such unsavory types away.

Chrysalis snorted. "Foolish girl. Putting her entire masquerade in danger over a single egg." Then her expression softened. "But I suppose the first one is always special. Whether it's a drone or a-"

There was a sharp chime from the kitchen, and the queen gasped. "The gravel frosting is ready!" She quickly hurried to the kitchen, moving as though possessed by some narrative force that didn't want to spoil the surprise.

The lantern fell to the ground, and mercifully stayed lit. This seemed to be the only bit of luck Zakeem had at the moment.

He was already exhausted from chasing Goodmane, but terror poured fresh strength into his legs as he turned and ran, hooves scrabbling across the stone. There was a brief klak-klak-klak of the creature's steps, and then they stopped. He didn't turn around to find out why, and it wouldn't have helped him anyway, because he heard them again to his right... and above.

His head snapped up ,and he saw the beast clinging near the top of one of the support columns. How it was managing to stay up there without claws or graspers was beyond him, but it was managing it awkwardly. Before he could change course, it launched itself, and with a thunderous impact landed directly between him and the exit. He skidded to a stop, then turned again and fled, looking from side to side in a hopeless attempt to find some other means of escape...

There! The faint light barely illuminated one of the alcoves, its entrance thick with heavy iron pipes. He couldn't tell how deep the alcove was, but he should at least be able to squeeze past the pipes. The creature never could... though it might just smash through. It was a slim chance, but it was better than no chance at all. With the creature's snarls filling the air and that ever-present rumble growing louder, he dove toward the alcove and clambered between the pipes, then pressed himself against the wall.

The clacking noise grew near, then stopped. Zakeem tried to calm his pounding heart and ragged breaths, but his efforts were wasted when a limb was suddenly sent through the relatively small gap, seeking for its prey. It came near him, but couldn't quite reach. The limb was retracted, and the creature pressed its head (or at least what he thought of as its head; the lack of neck or eyes made the distinction rather vague) up to the pipes and regarded him. It didn't try to break through, which was something he was quite convinced it could do; on closer inspection, the pipes were ancient and brittle, and would probably leak like crazy if asked to actually carry water. Perhaps the beast was still too young and inexperienced to know how strong it clearly was.

Then its upper body twisted slightly, a movement that reminded him of somepony tilting their head. It was considering the situation, he felt. A moment later violet light shone from between its teeth, and he paled; could the thing breathe fire?! That seemed distinctly unfair.

But the light went out, the jaws opened... and something long and sticky darted out from its mouth and between the pipes, wrapping itself around him in an instant. He had no time to react. It immediately pulled him back out of the alcove, catching his head a nasty blow against the pipes as he went. It thankfully wasn't quite strong enough to pull him directly into the creatures mouth, but merely deposited him on the ground in front of it, which really was not that much to be thankful for.

Disoriented, he tried to stand up even as his scientific mind raced. It had changed itself. granting it the prehensile tongue it needed to solve the problem before it. Well, it was a changeling, after all, though he'd never heard of Chrysalis' drones having this kind of combat capability. Certainly a fascinating topic for investigation... if he survived. This seemed vanishingly unlikely as the creature stepped forward, maw opening wide...

There was a rapid flapping of wings, a burst of blue light, and then a full-grown yak barrelled into the creature from above, imbued with all of the former bat's forward momentum. The impact sent the unprepared beast tumbling several yards away, and the yak took up a position between it and the woozy doctor. "Get out of here!" it bellowed. "I'll hold it off!" In another flash of blue, it was replaced by a bugbear, which growled and advanced on the creature with claws out.

Needing no further prompting, Zakeem staggered toward the exit. He was nearly there when the bugbear was thrown though a support column and into the wall, leaving a huge crater. Light flashed once more, and a familiar changeling drone took its place. "Okay," Mandible managed, righting himself, "maybe not. Run!"

They darted out the exit, the creature hot on their hooves. "What is that thing?!" Mandible demanded.

Zakeem would have stared in astonishment if his attention wasn't fully occupied with staying alive. "Are you asking me? I don't have a clue! It came from the egg; I thought that you knew!"

"That's the hatchling?! Impossible! Why did-" He stopped himself. "Never mind, not important right now. Where's the stallion you were with?"

The zebra didn't stop to wonder how Mandible knew about that, agreeing that there were other matters at hand. "Gone," he gasped. "Eaten."

"By a changeling?!" Mandible risked a glance behind, saw the creature slowly but steadily gaining. "Glenching must have really messed that thing up!"

He fell silent as they ran, potential options being considered and discarded. Even if they could escape the hatchling, they couldn't very well leave it to rampage through the sewer. Not only would it put countless ponies at risk, if Zakeem was correct about its appetites, but if it were found by the authorities and its origins were discovered, it could lead to a citywide lockdown and a thorough investigation. He'd done a good job ensuring their secret remained a secret, but something like this would force Rarity's hoof, and he wouldn't blame her for letting Celestia know about the two queens in the city. Of course, this was technically not as dire as multiple ponies getting gobbled up, but it was still something he had to keep in mind, as much as he hated doing so.

No, he would have to deal with the situation somehow. But at the very least he could get Zakeem to safety first, maybe have him go get Spinnerette and Chrysalis. It would mean revealing where they lived to him, but at this point Mandible felt he could be trusted with at least that much.

"Look!" Zakeem's shout drew his attention. "There's light up ahead; it must be the sun's rays! A sweet path to freedom! Celestia be praised!"

"What? No! It's still nighttime! Don't go that way!" But the doctor had been through a singularly harrowing evening, and the prospect of escape was too much to resist. He galloped forward into-

A wide chamber, filled with makeshift shacks and the debris of living rather than just forgotten garbage. It was lit by fires in metal drums, and figured huddled around them to cook meager meals and fend off the evening chill. Heads began to lift and regard him with wary, tired eyes.

Even a storybook land like Equestria had its share of those for whom luck only came in one flavor.

Horror rose within Zakeem as he realized what he'd done. The creature was right behind them; it would surely gorge itself upon these unsuspecting ponies. And it would all be his...

"Manehattan PD!" a new voice shouted. "Clear the area! Violent suspect escaping on hoof! Clear the area!"

The zebra glanced behind himself to see a uniformed policepony by all appearances in hot pursuit. The ruse wouldn't have worked above ground - the standard Manehattan citizen would crane their necks and try to see what was going on - but it was a near-universal constant that the underprivileged wanted little to do with the authorities. Already many of them were retreating into their dwellings to avoid attention...

...but not enough. A few stubbornly remained by their fires, flat out ignoring the officer's command. And the creature would be there any second.

The officer frowned, then shouted: "Backup is on the way! Any witnesses may be asked to come to the station for questioning! You have nothing to fear from the police!"

That did the trick. Those sufficiently hardened to stay knew what a lie that was, and quickly made themselves scarce. There would be questions afterwards of the... insect crocodile thing?... that smashed its way through the settlement in single-minded pursuit of its prey, but no answers would be forthcoming.

Spinnerette was lost and confused. The strange sense of the hatchling’s location had drawn her roughly toward the clinic, but had veered off slightly as she got closer, and then she’d arrived at the doctor’s office window and saw the disarray within. There was no sign of him or Mandible, either. Maybe the hatchling had been ‘playful’, as her mother had put it, and had managed to slip away? And the two of them had given chase?

She swore, if they had let anything happen to the poor, defenseless thing…

But she’d followed her… intuition? And it had led her away from the clinic… and down. And now she was poking her way through the sewers, aware that the place could be twisty enough that a straight-line path was unlikely to be available. Staying transformed throughout the flight to the clinic had tired her out in her already weakened state, so she’d assumed her normal form and was seeing by purple hornlight. The feeling drawing her to the hatchling seemed to be fading, yet at the same time she could tell it was nearby, and getting closer.

Now the feeling pointed her toward a nearby tunnel, from which emerged a series of noises, hooves on stone and the occasional shout. She stopped and faced it. That had to be Zakeem and Mandible, racing back with her hatchling in tow. While she wanted to berate them for their carelessness in losing her young, that felt a little too Chrysalis, and as long as they all returned safe and sound she wouldn’t be too tough on-

Zakeem burst from the tunnel, his coat hopelessly stained and froth forming on his sides. He ran past Spinnerette without even noticing her, eyes focused resolutely forward. He was followed a few seconds later by Mandible, who skidded to a stop several yards past her. ”Spin?!”

“Dib? What’s going on? Where is-“

“Prepare… to fly!” Zakeem panted, circling back but still ready to bolt. “The beast is nigh!”

“What beast?” She turned to glower at the tunnel, from which she heard a rapid klak-klak-klak noise. The light of her horn brightened as she readied for a fight. “If some sewer creature hurt my hatchling I’m going to-“

And then it appeared, launching itself directly toward its mother.

Spinnerette was too shocked to move even in the slightest. She immediately recognized the creature as hers, but its horrific appearance was absolutely not what she had been expecting. It seemed to move in slow motion as it barreled forward at her, jaws gaping wide…

But Mandible had already been on the move. His path had curved around, and he tackled her at an angle, sending her stumbling to the side. She looked back at him, and their eyes met. “Run!” he shouted.

In an instant, the wide mouth closed around him. The creature raised its ‘head’, lifting Mandible into the air, his hind legs flailing. There were a few choking noises as it tried without success to swallow, but then it flared purple and grew two hooflengths in height and width, and several more in length. Mandible slid the rest of the way into the creature’s throat, and it swallowed. It smacked its lips, seeming somehow pleased with itself.

And then its non-head turned toward Spinnerette, and the rumbling noise increased in volume and intensity.

Her nerve broke, and in a panic she ran down the tunnel. Zakeem started moving when she did, but due to his already fatigued state, he had trouble keeping pace.

“What happened?” she asked as they fled. “I know that’s my hatchling, but…”

“Perhaps… the glench…” he managed, almost out of breath, “caused it… a wrench.”

A pang of regret shot through her. “Maybe it’s because I held it so long? But I didn’t know! Oh, that poor thing!”

The zebra said nothing, his hooves slowing. Behind them, the beast was not slowed down by its larger form in the slightest; in fact, it was gaining.

“Stay with me, doctor!” she commanded. Her horn lit, and she tried to lift him, but the day’s exertions had left her drained. “I promise we’ll-“

Something long and unpleasantly green suddenly wrapped around his barrel. He only had enough time for a gasped, “Not again!”, before he was pulled backwards with great force. The creature snapped him up, and underwent another purple-lit growth spurt.

Spinnerette found herself in a large chamber with a wide exit on the opposite wall through which shone pale and indirect moonlight. She could hear faint noises of carriage wheels, and felt a faint breeze of evening air. An escape to the city… but like Mandible, she realized that she couldn’t just lead the beast out to feed upon the populace. She had to take care of it here and now. Somehow.

She turned to face the creature, horn lowered. It stopped as well, making small chuffing noises as it tested the air. It knew what lay beyond, or at least seemed interested in investigating it. But then it turned its attention back to its mother, and stalked forward.

Well, she thought desperately, now what? Her magic was too weak to fight it, and even if she could transform into something big and nasty, surely Mandible would have already tried that. Perhaps if she turned into something too big to swallow, like a whale or a hydra, but it was a changeling too, and there was no way of knowing what its upper size limit was, or if it even had one. Besides, it might just escape past her and into Manehattan.

A thought occurred, one that she never would have even considered in normal circumstances. …what would Mother do? And she knew immediately, as if drawing from some royal inner databank.

She stomped her hoof loudly. The beast stopped, if only for a moment.

”I am your Queen!” she declared. “You are part of my swarm, and I command you to stop!”

It stared at her, or didn’t, for long moments. Then it leapt.

With a brief flash of understanding of how her mother felt when her own swarm liberated themselves, she quickly dodged to the side… or tried to. Her hooves seemed immobile, attached firmly to the ground. She looked down, and found them surrounded by magical light.

Green magical light.

“You’re dragging this out,” noted the familiar voice from the shadows disapprovingly. “Stop fooling around and get this over with.”

”Mother?! Why-?”

And then there was darkness.

To her surprise, there was something afterwards. There was the expected raising and then swallowing, but the thing's teeth were not employed, and while the sensation of muscles contracting around her and forcing her downward was not exactly pleasant (though unbeknownst to her, a certain subsection of ponies might be envious), neither was it particularly painful. Of course, that didn't mean that pain wasn't going to happen somewhere down the line, or rather down the esophagus...

She was deposited into what she assumed to be the creature's stomach, and landed on something soft. The impact resulted in a series of groans and exhalations, almost lost in the everpresent rumble. This was soon followed by a familiar voice asking, "...Spin? That you?"

"Dib? Oh my Grogar! Are you okay?" She drew on her remaining magic and lit her horn, but purple is not a good color for illumination and she couldn't make out more than a tangle of bodies and limbs. Wherever they were, it was barely large enough for the beings it contained.

"Yeah, I think so," he grunted. "I mean, I got eaten, so could be better, but..."

There was definitely more than a single drone's worth of legs here. "Doctor Zakeem?"

A groan was his reply.

"Wait. There's someone else down here," Mandible said. "I have a feeling he was with you, Doctor. Any idea who this is?"

"A colleague from work," Zakeem admitted. "...he's kind of a jerk."

"Oh. Him." The drone's voice was full of disdain. "That explains a lot. He's pretty well out of it. Probably got shook up pretty bad from all that running around."

"Him who?" Spinnerette asked.

"I'll explain at some point when we're not about to be digested. If we ever get there."

The prospect put a definite damper on further conversation, and several minutes passed. And then some more. "...it doesn't seem to be happening," she noted finally. "And shouldn't we have suffocated by now or something?"

There was no response.

"...Dib? Dib?!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. It's just... this rumbling's almost putting me to sleep."

She started to snap at him, but paused. "Yeah... it's weirdly comforting, huh?"

"Well, not to my ears, I have to admit," Zakeem said. "You're welcome to stay; I'd rather exit."

"Don't worry. Mother's out there; I'm sure she's thinking of a way to rescue us."

Mandible sounded dubious. "If she was with you, then why didn't she keep you from getting eaten?"

"Uh... actually she's the reason it caught me."

She could imagine his look of frustration. "...what the buck, Mom...?"

Then the creature moved. It seemed to have been lying down after its meal and not, as Spinnerette feared, moving to explore Manehattan, but now she felt herself lift as it raised its upper body. "Have you calmed down now?" she heard Chrysalis say, though greatly muted.

"There she is!" she announced. "Mother! We're in here! Help!"

But her words were drowned out by the rumble, which grew even louder. The creature began to snarl as well. "Don't you give me that tone of voice," she heard Chrysalis admonish. "I'm not your queen."

"You'll see," she said, holding on to hope. "Any minute now she'll... force its jaws open and set us-"

"But look at you!" Her mother's tone of voice was suddenly one of pride and approval. "You caught them all! What a good boy you are!"

The rumble got even louder, and the creature's lower half started to shake back and forth, causing the unconscious Goodmane to bounce off the walls a few times.

"A good boy like you," Chrysalis continued, "deserves a scrimblecake."

Stale sewer air swept past them as the creature sniffed at, presumably, the 'tasty treat' Chrysalis had devoted her evening to making. There was a pause during which Spinnerette could feel faint motions from above, then she was peppered with fragments of odd-smelling matter. The scrimblecake seemed to meet with the creature's approval, because its growling took on a sudden eager inflection.

"You like that, do you? Well, there's plenty more where that came from, at the bottom of this bag." The creature lurched forward suddenly, then let out a disappointed moan. "Ah-ah-ah," Chrysalis chided. "You'll have to change to something small in order to fit. No eating the whole bag at once."

It made a kind of deep burbling noise, the first sound it had made that wasn't a snarl, a roar, or the ever-present rumbling.

"Oh, don't worry about them." Spinnerette felt she could hear a tiny amount of malicious glee in her mother's voice. "They can go sideways for just a little bit without too much harm. And after all, turnabout is fair play, isn't it?" There was a faint rustle of paper. "Come along now!"

The three couldn't exactly exchange glances, due not only to the darkness but also their tangled positions, but a definite shared feeling of acute concern rose within them. "...is that safe?" Mandible asked, aware that no matter what the answer was, they were powerless to prevent it.

"I-I'm sure Mother knows what she's doing," Spinnerette said as purple fire began to rise around them, and almost managed to believe it.

Then there was... not darkness, not exactly, but something darkness-adjacent that the conscious mind was never intended to experience. The sensation was distinctly unpleasant, and it was rather unfair, they agreed later, that Goodmane didn't get to experience it.

Author's Note

Correct guesses win a scrimblecake. And no, it's not a changeling dog or cat.

Denouement with Tea and Scrimblecakes

"I'm going to have to ask you again, Mother, because I'm sure I didn't hear you properly the first time. What did you say that was?"

All and sundry were seated in Harmony Delight's apartment, bone weary and sprawled on whatever chairs and sofas they first fell into. Chrysalis had somehow coaxed the hatchling to disgorge its captives in a controlled manner, freeing them from the sideways non-space with no ill effects apart from a deep desire to never go through that again. Tea had been distributed; nasty, bitter, overboiled stuff, but it was the thought that counted. All eyes (except for Zakeem, who had opted for an icepack to soothe his growing lump and was just leaning back in his chair) were focused on the hatchling, which now likely looked much as it did when it hatched: a sleek, armored form of jet-black chitin about the size of a small dog or large cat. It was currently waging war on its fifth scrimblecake, using forelegs to cram as much of the treat (which was nearly half its size) as it could into its maw. By all appearances the scrimblecake was winning.

"That, my dear daughter," Chrysalis repeated patiently, "is your hive."

"Yes, that's what I thought you said. Mother, you don't hatch a hive, you build it."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, by all means let's have the queen who only ever spent ten years of her life in a hive tell me how they are made."

"It's common sense! Come on, Dib, back me up here. You must have helped build it up over the years, right?"

Her broodmate had fallen oddly silent after their mother's revelation. "...no, actually, I never did. The hive was kind of its own thing. As we grew, new chambers would show up, but I always assumed some other drones had been assigned to make them. And... well, the hive itself always kind of seemed to be alive, what with the passageways changing around sometimes, but we thought that was just something Mom made happen."

He looked down at the hatchling, which was currently pinned beneath the dubious confection and screeching in outrage at this dishonorable tactic. "It's funny, but I keep getting reminded of the old hive. We all knew there was something down in the lower levels where we weren't allowed to go. It would growl and shake the walls, and Mom would go down to see it every so often. We dared each other to disobey her orders and sneak down there, but we never did."

"...except you," Spinnerette guessed.

He nodded. "I expected to find some kind of monster she was raising for one of her schemes..."

"I don't scheme," Chrysalis interjected. "I strategize."

"Right, right. But it was actually... I dunno, cozy. I went down there a few times, to think and get away from the other drones. I never saw any monster, but there was something there, and it would make these noises I could almost understand. It sounded friendly and curious... but mostly just sleepy."

"Just so," the elder queen said, lapsing back into I-suppose-I'll-have-to-explain-it-all mode. "While a queen is always hungry, there comes a point in a new swarm when she is at least briefly satisfied with its progress. This is the point at which she creates her first hive egg." She nodded at the hatchling. "What we see here is just the larval form. Once the queen finds a suitable location, the hiveling burrows down into the earth and forms the core of the structure that will house and protect her and her swarm."

"Uh..." Spinnerette looked worried. "It's not going to do that here, is it? I think that would void my deposit."

"Not until you have need of it," her mother assured her. "Finding a good spot for the hive can take time, after all."

"Well, that's good to know." She felt something press against her leg, and peered down to see the hiveling... well, it wasn't staring up at her, because it still lacked eyes, but she clearly had its rapt attention. There were two small antennae poking up in lieu of ears, which waggled hopefully. Its foe had been vanquished, and it was ready for the next challenger. And it was making a noise that she just about recognized as the constant rumbling it had produced previously, but at this scale emerged as a soothing trill.

Spinnerette felt her expression soften. "Well," she said, levitating another scrimblecake down, "at least it's adorable."

As the hiveling entered into valorous battle once more, Doctor Zakeem lifted the icepack and stared at the younger queen. "...adorable," he said flatly.

"Well, isn't it?"

He regarded the hiveling and, perhaps understandably, was unable to forget the terror it had given unto him less than an hour ago. "You say that it's cute, but that's not my impression. It tried to subject us to fatal digestion!"

Chrysalis snorted. "Just be grateful he wasn't hungry when he first hatched."

Spinnerette looked at her in disbelief. "Are you saying that that was the hive being playful?"

"Of course. He was just instinctively practicing for the future, as younglings of all species do, containing changelings and prey within himself. If he'd been hungry, why, he wouldn't have simply contained you all. He would have broken you down into components for future construction. And that would have been just terrible."

Mandible took over the job of staring at Chrysalis, sensing a catch. He knew his mother far too well to take such a statement of concern at face value. "Meaning?"

"Well, the first things they consume are so very important, you see," she explained. "They base their idea on what to build their adult form out of by what they take in during the larval stage. A hive inspired by chewed up pony and drone bits is a sorry sight, let me tell you. I did say that proper nutrition was the foundation of the hive."

He nodded. That sounded more like the Chrysalis he knew. "And thus the scrimblecakes, I take it?"

"Yes, we found that an early diet of select vitamins and minerals - especially minerals - teaches a hive to pull the best construction materials from sideways when they metamorphose. And they do love them so."

They looked down at the hiveling, which was stuck halfway into the sixth scrimblecake and was waving its - or, Mandible supposed, his, though he had no idea how Chrysalis could tell the difference - legs frantically. A sudden and distinctly unpleasant thought occurred to him. "Wait. If the hive is a living being, then when we... y'know... and your throne room got blown apart...?"

"You mean when you betrayed me?" she asked with sweet menace. "Don't concern yourself overly much. Everything that far away from the core was mostly just exoskeleton. The poor old thing was likely aware of the damage, but I doubt he felt any pain. And without his queen, he'll have gone into full hibernation. Just spending the rest of his days in peaceful slumber." There was a brief catch in her voice, but she quickly covered it. "I hope he dreams well."

"Well, that's good to know, then." He shook his head. "Still. I can't believe our biology is so... weird. Did some creature intentionally make us like this? Was it Grogar? It had to be Grogar, right?"

"Nobody knows, I'm sure," she replied, and he looked at her sharply. That was absolutely a deliberate lie. "And that's not important right now. What is important is what we do about... that."

They turned around in their seats to look behind the sofa, where a pony-sized cocoon was staining the carpet. A unicorn drifted within, still unconscious. When the hiveling had disgorged its prey, Chrysalis had immediately bundled up the unfamiliar face before he had a chance to know where he was.

"Yeah, who is that, anyway?" Spinnerette asked.

Before Zakeem could answer, Mandible said, "Hale Goodmane, one of the other doctors at the clinic. All the potion tests the EWF asks for go to him, and if they fail, he files it clean anyway for a little something under the table. Dabbles in the black market a bit, but he's not a real player. Does 'charity' work downtown, legit, but overstates his hours worked as a tax dodge. If he'd done Mom's test and something went wrong - like it did - it would have been a massive problem, so I arranged matters to make him overbooked on her appointment day. Moved up the date on a few scheduled tests." He noticed the doctor staring at him and gave him an apologetic look. "Which means it's my fault you got roped into all of this. Sorry about that."

But Zakeem continued to stare, a bit blearily. "...you seem new," he said finally. "Who are you?"

"Huh?" Then Mandible looked down at himself. The shock of going sideways had returned him to his normal form. "Oh. Yeah. It's me, Mandible. Reformed changeling. Long story." The doctor seemed to consider this the least strange occurrence of the evening, and was willing to leave it at that.

"And yet despite your attempts to exclude this wretched pony, he became involved regardless," Chrysalis mused. "I'm sure there's a tale behind that, but it hardly matters. I've had the occasional egg-thief in my long years, ponies who were foolish enough to brave a hive to... I honestly don't know what they thought stealing one egg out of hundreds would accomplish, really. I made sure that they never got the chance to speak of their 'bravery' to their comrades." She looked at her daughter. "But this was your egg, and it's your territory. The decision is also yours."

"You know how I feel about hurting ponies unnecessarily, Mother." She leaned closer, an odd gleam in her eye. "But in this case..."

The icepack fell - though the tea was conscientiously placed on an end table - as Zakeem shot to his hooves. "I must interject here with great urgency! Please spare him your fury! I beg clemency!"

Spinnerette scowled at him. "Clemency?! He stole my egg!"

"With all due respect, ma'am," the zebra replied, "he stole it from me. I could hardly tell him 'twas your progeny."

She hesitated briefly. "Well, maybe so, but-"

"A bribe from your mother, that's what Goodmane thought. He's greedy and foolish... but evil, he's not. He treated the egg with such care that he could. I think that his motives were... partly for good. You've suffered no harm from this evening's calamity; please forgive this sinner his brief lapse of sanity."

She glared at him a moment longer, then sighed. "Oh... all right. You're owed that much, at least. But if he knows about Mother, that's still a massive problem."

"O ye of little faith," Chrysalis said. "A queen has many ways to deal with a pony with inconvenient knowledge."

"Okay, so how?"

"In this case? Delegation." She leaned back in her chair. "Take care of it, Mandible."

As her broodmate nodded and achingly got to his hooves, Spinnerette turned her glare on the elder queen. "You can't just make him-!"

"It's okay, Spin. I was expecting this." He examined the cocoon thoughtfully for a moment, then looked at Chrysalis. "...Scenario 37," he decided. "We never really had an opportunity to use that one, so even if he tells anypony they won't immediately recognize it as a changeling trick."

"Acceptable." Her horn lit up, and a blanket was floated out from the linen closet. It wrapped around the cocoon, which was then lifted up and secured across the back of Mandible, who had taken the appearance of one of the building's custodians. "Be sure not to leave a single speck of evidence behind."

"I know, I know. I'll be back later." He carried the wrapped cocoon into the entry hallway, and a moment later they heard the door open and close.

"As for you, doctor," she continued, and to her credit she seemed to be at least trying not to sound menacing, "I trust that we can rely on your continued silence in this matter?"

Zakeem nodded. "My word is my bond, and your secret's secure." He chuckled. "Though nopony'd ever believe me, I'm sure."

"Then when you're ready, I'll escort you home." Her nose wrinkled. "Though I recommend you avail yourself of the shower first."

"Maybe I should go with you both," Spinnerette suggested after he'd gone down the hall to the bathroom, vaguely concerned that her mother's offer was just an excuse for Chrysalis to tidy up loose ends.

"Stay. You need rest more than any of us, and you should spend some time getting to know your hive." She gazed at the hatchling, her expression unreadable. "It's... an important bond, the one between queen and hive," she said quietly. "Much more so than you'd have with any drone. I'd forgotten how important." She frowned slightly, and her words were almost inaudible. "I'd forgotten. When was the last time I'd thought about him? How far did I fall...?"

"Mother?"

The elder queen shook herself. "It's nothing. Yes, by all means, stay. And tomorrow I'll teach you how to make scrimblecakes. With better ingredients this time. I just need to find a store that sells proper cooking gravel."

The tiniest of circumstances can have huge repercussions.

If Goodmane hadn't gone into that specific chamber, if the egg hadn't hatched at that precise time, if the empty casing hadn't landed in that particular flow of water... things would have been different.

Forgotten in all the excitement, the casing slowly reverted to a mucus-like slime, which joined the flow and was carried inward and downward. Through the labyrinthine sewer network it went, gradually becoming diluted in the murky fluid. Enough of it remained cohesive, however, to float into a small overflow pipe, taking it away from the primary current. Eventually it caught up against a mesh in a ceiling... and a single drop of slime fell.

The object it fell toward was clearly not made by any pony, not even in the sense that most... 'material' down there might have been made. It was huge and solid, at least the size of a locomotive engine. Its surface was covered in patterned whirls not unlike a snail's shell, and though there was no light down this far, it gave off what could only be described as a dark glow.

The droplet struck... and something within the object twitched.

The tiniest of circumstances can decide the fate of an entire city.

Goodmane awoke in a puddle of his own drool. Slowly lifting his head, he looked around to find himself in his own office in the clinic, appointed with impressive paintings and certificates, or at least they looked impressive as long as you didn't inspect them closely. He ached badly. "Whuh... how did I...?"

"Good evening, doctor."

He raised his head further, and gasped in surprise. While he'd never seen her in person before, there really was no mistaking the mare before him. Not with the wings and the horn, and the flowing mane of stars. "P-P-Princess Luna?!" he stammered. "What are you doing in my office?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Why, I am here to help, of course. I heard you shouting in distress and came to assist you."

"Distress? How could you have heard me all the way down in..." He stopped, his eyes going wide as memory flooded back. "Zakeem! Princess, please, you have to go save him! That thing was..."

She held up a hoof. "Calm yourself, doctor. Your concern for your friend does you credit, but I'm certain that he's fine. Nothing that happens in your dream would affect him.

"You don't understand! It's my fault he..." Her words caught up to him. "Wait... I was dreaming?!"

"Of course. And still are. Why else would I be here?"

"No, no, no. That makes no sense. It was all so real!"

The midnight mare raised an eyebrow. "Was it?"

He hesitated. All things considered... "It... seemed real," he mumbled. Admittedly, getting swallowed by a baby changeling then waking up at his desk somewhat strained his definition of 'real'.

"Some dreams do."

He looked down at himself. His run through the sewers should have left him a mess, but his medical coat was pristine, as was his fur and hooves (and if they were slightly moist, he was too agitated to notice). "...but I'm hurting..." he added weakly.

"That's been known to happen when one sleeps at their desk. Bad for the posture." She paused, watching him. "Why do you think you were doing that?"

Goodmane frowned. He hadn't been thinking he'd done that, had no memory at all of doing it, but... that's where he was, so he must have done it, right? "I... I'm not sure," he said. "I remember wanting to check on what kind of deal Zakeem made with the Countess, so I broke into his office-" He stopped and clapped a hoof over his mouth.

"Hmm. Slightly less credit," Luna noted dryly. "Worry not. I do not judge ponies based on what they do in dreams, else I'd have no time for anything else, believe me. Clearly you stopped in your own office before you got that far, yes? Rested your eyes while gathering your courage?"

"...I..." He felt confused and increasingly unsure of his memories. Despite how outlandish the evening's escapade had been, it had seemed far too thorough and convincing to be just a dream. And yet here was Princess Luna, assuring him that a dream was all it was, and she would know better than anypony else. "...I suppose I must have," he agreed.

"And you were attacked in your dream by some monster, I take it? Our minds often concoct such traumatic scenarios out of deep fear or guilt. What lesson do you think this was meant to teach you?"

"...w-well..." He sighed and gave up. "...probably that I should respect my coworker's privacy, if nothing else."

"That sounds like a good idea to me," she said with a nod. "I would suggest you just lay down on that couch, close your eyes, let the deeper dreams take you, and in the morning everything will be as it should be."

"Actually, I should probably head home instead..."

"But you're asleep," she reminded him, almost too quickly. "The city is far more dangerous in your dreams than you realize. To walk its streets would invite disaster."

"O-oh. Okay. You're the expert." He stood up and took a few wincing steps toward the couch, then paused. "Y'know... if this was all a dream, I really should check on what kind of deal Zakeem made with the Countess. He could still get us... I mean himself into trouble..."

Luna frowned at him. Apparently Goodmane needed something a bit more urgent to occupy his mind. Well, that could certainly be arranged. "While we're on the subject of guilty consciences," she said, "I've noticed there's been something of an epidemic of those lately."

"Oh, really?" he asked politely, if a trifle uncertainly.

"Indeed. Some of the victims may interest you. Fancy Footwork. Lukewarm Leglock. Both Punch and Judy. The Beekeeper. And so on."

He blanched. "...uh... those are..."

"Wrestlers, yes. And your patients as well, I believe? I understand the temptation of an easy fix to the rigors of the ring, but enabling their habits sets a bad example, don't you think? Doctor?"

Goodmane swallowed. "You... you know about that?"

Luna leaned in close. "Doctor. I can see into ponies' dreams." She put her muzzle next to his ear. "I know everything."

He tried to swallow again, but his mouth was suddenly bone dry.

"Normally such a small-time operation would be beneath my notice, but it's been causing so many bad dreams of late, I feel quite overwhelmed." She fixed him with her stare. "I think it would be in everypony's best interest if it were no longer weighing on their minds, don't you?"

"Y-you mean...?"

She nodded. "No more falsified test results. You do your job correctly and quietly, and for goodness' sake stop pestering your co-worker. You do that, and if you're lucky perhaps I'll forget this conversation ever happened. Am I understood?"

He bowed his head. "Yes, Princess Luna."

"Good. Good night, Doctor Goodmane."

He obediently climbed onto the couch and made himself as comfortable as he could. He didn't think he'd manage it quickly, but his time in the cocoon hadn't been actual sleep, and within minutes he was out like a light.

Luna watched him a few minutes longer, then carefully and silently left the room, closing it quietly behind her. A moment later she was replaced by an earth pony in a janitor's overalls, one that would draw no particular suspicion for his late night presence in the clinic.

Mandible sighed gently. That was a bit touch-and-go. Scenario 37 was ancient, put on the books before there were even books and all but forgotten when Luna went all Evil Overprincess. Fortunately the doctor's harsh evening made him less inclined than he perhaps should have been to question certain details, such as how he could have woken up and still be dreaming. Scrubbing Goodmane's body of the remnants of the cocoon and the trip through the sewers had been no pleasant task, but as his mother had pointed out, he couldn't leave even a shred of evidence. He'd have to get the doctor's coat thoroughly cleaned; there were a dozen like it in the clinic's storage, from which he'd borrowed a replacement, but if one turned up missing it would weaken the 'all a dream' assumption.

He leaned down to pick up the small bundle wrapped around the coat, and noticed Zakeem's notebook poking out of a pocket. Mandible regarded it thoughtfully. He probably should destroy the thing out of principle, because as evidence went it was certainly more than a shred. But he rather liked the zebra, which surprised him; he wasn't quite used to interacting with ponies he could trust. And who knew if the information within would be useful later?

No, he'd return it to Zakeem in the morning, at which point he'd also make sure the doctor kept his story straight. No egg, no chase, no changeling activity of any kind. And then Mandible would have to write up a few anonymous blackmail notes for certain wrestlers, letting them know that their potion use might become public if it continued. Better that they start legitimately testing clean than rely on Goodmane's imposed honesty. He'd also need to find a dry cleaner that didn't ask too many questions. So many small details to keep in mind, so many little deceptions.

He grinned. That was part of the reason he couldn't stay settled under King Thorax. The new swarm had little need for a drone with his particular set of skills, and even though he now realized how immoral the missions Chrysalis had sent him on had been, he'd still enjoyed the technical thrill of doing them. Maneuvering the ins-and-outs of the Manehattan music scene had been a poor substitute, but it was better than nothing. But this past week - researching the clinic, arranging the physical, negotiating with Zakeem, dealing with Goodmane (unworthy adversary though he might be) - was the most fun he'd had in a while. Even the chase through the sewer had kept him thinking on his hooves.

He didn't miss the old days, not by a long shot. But if nothing else, having Chrysalis around was making things interesting.

The bedroom of the elder queen did not, in fact, contain a bed. She considered herself above such pony indulgences; a nest had served her well for centuries, and would continue to do so. This particular one was mostly constructed (though ‘constructed’ was a very generous term in this case) from the remains of a forelegchair that hadn’t survived the evening of Chrysalis’ arrival in Manehattan, but she’d refined it in the months since, scavenging bits of cloth and padding from all over the building until it suited her perfectly.

The room itself similarly had very few furnishings, but it did have a large number of what could only be described as knick-knacks and gegaws, small objects that she’d stolen (“Appropriated.”) from the neighboring apartments. One of these was a complete set of children’s building blocks, which she often used for visualization while scheming (”Strategizing!”). Now the toys were spread out next to her nest, from where – having returned from walking Doctor Zakeem home and having restrained herself from dispatching him in some alley - Chrysalis watched the hiveling as it moved the wooden shapes with intense concentration. He’d slowly placed them one by one around himself, and with two legs extended was carefully moving the last one, a hexagonal rod, into position. It was awkward going, and as it neared the top it struck another block, and the entire structure wobbled. The hiveling’s legs stopped, quivering nervously.

“Go on,” Chrysalis said encouragingly. “You can do it.”

The piece resumed movement, and was painstakingly delivered to its designated position, standing tall as a flagpole above the entrance to the hiveling’s lair.

“Good boy!” she crooned. “Well done! And look at that excellent bracing! Oh, you’re going to be a magnificent hive someday.”

There was a knock on the open doorframe. “Hope I’m not disturbing you two.”

Instantly the hiveling burst from his construction, scattering wooden blocks everywhere as he bounded over to his queen. He danced around her hooves, rolled onto his back, and wiggled proudly. “Yes, I saw!” Spinnerette said, rubbing the exposed belly with a hoof. “You’re such a smart boy!” The trilling noise the hiveling was making increased tenfold.

“Come to collect him for the night?” her mother asked, and if she was disappointed, she carefully hid it.

“Well, that,” Spinnerette said, stepping into the room, “and I also had a question I wanted to ask you. About eggs.”

“Certainly. Ask away.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since you explained everything. About how they’re only made as a conscious choice, except in specific circumstances?”

“Precisely. Only when a queen fulfills certain conditions does an egg come unbidden.

“And a queen like you, who has produced an uncountable number of eggs, would hardly be caught by surprise by one of those certain conditions, right?”

Chrysalis eyed her daughter warily, sensing a trap but not sure what form it would take. “…yes…?”

“So in that case… are queen eggs a deliberate choice as well, or is there some other trigger for them?”

Spinnerette did not have her broodmate’s long experience with Chrysalis, and couldn’t read her as easily. But she was a fast learner, and some tells were easier to spot than others. The way the embarrassed flush raised in her cheeks and the flustered shifting of her gaze, for example, told the entire world that the next thing Chrysalis said would be a lie.

“It’s just a fluke!” she snapped. “A mista- an abbera- a statistical anomaly! Queen eggs are a one-in-several-millions chance! And if I’d known it would happen, I would have wanted better as a daughter than a swarmless, marginal queen who took eighty years for her first egg!”

Spinnerette simply nodded, satisfied. Her mother was a championship-level blusterer, but she was getting better at seeing past it to the true feelings underneath. “Well,” she said, stepping closer, “however it happened… I’m glad it did.” And to the elder queen’s great surprise, her daughter leaned down and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, mother.”

Chrysalis grumped, feeling that she had somehow lost but not entirely certain how. “…good night, daughter.”

The light switched off and Chrysalis curled up in her nest, but sleep was a long time coming as too-strong memories danced behind her eyes.

She moved through the world like a gentle breeze, and wherever she went, there was happiness and joy. For a while.

Where she went depended on the season. The spring brought out the adventurous spirit in ponies, and she was always quite popular as a guide into the more dangerous spots in the world, the deep jungles and so on. In autumn, she was a dab hoof at setting up carnival-style haunted houses in those regions outside Equestria (never within Equestria, no, perish the thought!) that celebrated some version of Nightmare Night or similarly-themed holidays. And in the summer, there was always gainful employment to be found on the coasts, serving as a beach lifeguard.

(There was always a hungry tiger. There was always a monster that was just a little bit more real than the cardboard apparitions around it. There was always a shark.)

And afterwards her customers would be grateful. Their hearts would be racing, but they would be alive and would see another day! It was good to be alive!

And then it was her turn.

She moved through the world like a gentle breeze, and wherever she went, there was happiness and joy, and even a love of life. And as far as she was concerned, it all belonged to her.

Author's Note

“A Taste of Stardom” was sort of supposed to be a one-shot. Just something my brain put together and needed to be set free. But I don’t do small projects, apparently, so it is now the first part of what will likely be a seven-part series. I hope you’ve enjoyed the second. Will I see this through to the very end? Hell if I know! I hope so, though. There’s some fun stuff down the road, or at least I think so.

I’m probably going to add a bonus chapter to this one at some point. There’s somepony who’s got a story to tell here, even though we haven’t even met them. But for now, I’ll call it Complete. Until next time!