Don't Bug Me

by Starscribe

Rating: teen
Tags: Royal Guard, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Death, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Romance, Changelings, Mystery
Length: 194322

Amie was prepared for a difficult season as a camp counselor. She wasn't prepared for her entire summer camp vanishing from Earth, and reappearing in a strange new world. Now they're bugs, in a world that seems to hate them. Survival not guaranteed.

The summer season was just about over at Stella Lacus adventure summer camp. Amie and her younger brother Wes were eager to return home. Unfortunately for them, their adventures had only just begun.

All at once, the entire summer camp and the mountain it was built upon shifted universes, leaving Earth behind for a far stranger world. In the same moment, every camper, counselor, and staff-member transformed into strange insectoid creatures, with unknown powers and incomprehensible needs.

Instead of returning to nursing school, Amie has a new goal: keep her little brother alive. If only the other campers didn't look at him like food...

Updates every Saturday. Editing by Two Bit and Sparktail.

Awesome cover by SimonDrawsStuff.

This story was sponsored by Canary in the Coal Mine on my Patreon. Thanks so much for your support!

Published 2022-03-22 18:50:04 UTC
Last updated 2023-10-21 16:00:04 UTC

Chapter 3

Amie headed straight for the building, cutting across camp with a growing sense of purpose. Her brother was safe, and for a little while she could count on him staying that way. Wes wasn’t good with people, but he was good at staying unnoticed. Besides, a set of eyes on the outside of camp would probably be useful.

What will we see up there once the sun comes up? Maybe Lakeville was still at the base of the mountain, just concealed by their shock and disorientation. Maybe they were floating on a spaceship, or a platform held aloft on a giant turtle’s back. Given her own transformation, Amie would probably believe almost anything.

She wasn’t alone for the whole walk back. As the trails got bigger and the tents more numerous, she saw other campers making their nervous way up, traveling in small groups.

She didn’t recognize a single person, but she expected that. Not a single one of them was human. She saw dozens of the same black bugs, with the same green shells and green eyes. The same clear wings.

They came in different sizes, and had other subtle details that she could probably use to tell them apart with enough time. They all had fins on their heads, and those varied wildly. Some were short, others wide enough to extend almost to their horns. Some had shorter horns, some had more holes in their legs, others fewer.

Not one of them was orange, or lacked the damage to their legs. She felt a strange camaraderie from these bugs. Every one of them was disgusting and inhuman, but so was she. They couldn’t judge her for anything they weren’t themselves.

Maybe half the former campers had squeezed into oversized clothes. But they weren’t cut for wide back legs, or tails, or the complex joints of their shells. They might look less embarrassed than she felt, but they also struggled and stumbled when they walked. We can probably design something to fit these bodies, but where would we get the fabric?

Amie could dismiss her embarrassment for now, if only because there were so many others in the same state she was in, and the urgency of their survival. They could worry about things they didn’t need once they knew what the hell was going on.

The transformation had erased almost every distinguishing feature. None of the bugs looked older than she was, or younger. She couldn’t even tell which ones were guys or girls, at least not without looking closer than she wanted. Line them up in ranks, and they would seem like near-identical siblings.

They spoke very little, and all she did hear was frightened whispers. Some campers thought they’d been cursed, while another suggested they were victims of a strange weapons test. Neither felt quite right—she could imagine strange bioweapons, but why make a swarm of gross-looking alien bugs?

The multipurpose building was the largest in camp, surrounded by a dozen smaller structures. Every kind of adventure was out here, from the actually fun stuff out on the trails to the boring robotics and bioscience labs that her brother had spent most of his time inside. There were other buildings too—the camp clinic, aquatic center, staff housing, offices, and shops.

It was the only place the ground was fully paved, and the lights were all on. Not just in the multipurpose building, but the offices and clinic as well.

Mr. Albrecht might not understand memes, but he knew how to keep a camp in order. The multipurpose building was completely transformed as she approached. The front doors were wide open, and a folding table rested there, with two bugs propped up on chairs behind it. There were two lines leading inside, one for each sex.

She waited her turn, as the bug behind it asked the name from each creature who entered. She found her recognition of the voice grew the more times she heard her ask the same question.

“I’m Amie Blythe, Mrs. Albrecht,” she said, before she could even open her mouth. “Does the boss know what’s going on here?”

The bug flipped through the printout in front of her for a few seconds, then turned it aside for a much smaller list of staff. She put a check by a single name, holding the pen in her mouth. It looked as uncomfortable as it was imprecise, and the pages were covered with several disorderly scribbles.

“No one has a clue,” she admitted. “But we’re figuring things out together. Staff are on stage, head there. We have a lot of panicking campers right now.”

We have a lot of panicking bugs, Amie thought. But she didn’t correct her, just hurried through the door into the huge room.

A movie was playing on the oversized screen, a colorful Disney film about fish. A few dozen campers were scattered in front of it, with blankets and sleeping bags. She couldn’t see the usual dividing line she expected between girls and guys sides—but how would anyone even know which bugs were which?

Horse bugs were much harder to tell apart than humans. Instead, the only real distinctions she could see were the insects wearing clothes, and those that didn’t.

Far more campers weren’t bothering with the movie. They stood or paced or curled up in small groups all over the room. Against the wall, several large tubs of ice cream stood frosted over and melting, without a single interested soul around them.

Probably for the best that Wes didn’t come. He would hate the crowd. Amie dodged her way through it, listening for familiar voices. She caught a few of her favorite campers in the press, including several all standing up by one window. They had a backpack of various camping supplies between them, and spoke in hushed whispers.

She slowed as she passed, eyeing them. Almost all of them had deeper, masculine voices. The campers who wanted to go out on pioneering and wilderness survival trips skewed heavily that way. She knew each of them by name, at least she normally did. Not a single one of these had bothered adapting their clothes.

“How are you adventurers holding up?” she asked, stopping beside their table.

“Amie?” Several turned in her direction.

“You’re all screwed up too.” One stepped forward, gesturing at the six phones out on the table between them. “Look what we’re doing.”

She hopped up beside him, hesitating long enough to see. If his voice hadn’t told her everything she needed to know about this kid, this display sure would. Each of these phones were running an app she’d never seen before. A single cable was connected to one, stripped down to the electrical contacts and with a usb stick on the end. “What’s this, Rick?”

His wings buzzed nervously, and he looked away from her. Being recognized evidently robbed him of a little of his confidence. “Well, uh… no one’s getting any service right now. But there’s this app you can install, gives you a mesh network with everyone else using it. We can send messages, make calls. And if anyone does get a connection, it shares with everyone on the mesh. We’ve been using it for… approved things. But now I think everyone should have it.”

She reached over, patting his back with one hoof. The same way she would’ve done with a particularly strong knot on a rope bridge. “Nice, Rick! I’m sure your phones were sitting in your suitcases this whole trip waiting for an emergency. But if this isn’t an emergency, nothing is. I’ll bring my phone later, I want this. My brother too.”

Rick beamed. She couldn’t see it in his eyes exactly, their faces just didn’t express emotions as clearly. But she felt it radiating from him, the same way she would feel heat coming off the pavement on a warm day.

It was that instant she realized just how many emotions she could feel. The room had a pallor looming over it, a fearful pressure like watching eyes peeking at them from every shadow. There were little islands of other feelings, like Rick’s pride. I’m probably just imagining things. Of course people would be afraid and confused after what happened. I don’t need impossible senses to know that. “Stay out of trouble,” she said, backing away from the group. “You see any of my other kids, grab ‘em. Even the ones too scared to overnight. Got it?”

That elicited a few groans, and just as many nods. They might not like her instructions. But few other counselors spent nights with their kids in makeshift shelters high in the mountains, with animals prowling in the dark. Giving swimming lessons just didn’t build the same camaraderie.

She hurried past the projector screen and up to the stage. The camp had plenty of staff for normal emergencies, but how could such a small group deal with this?

Few bugs up here looked any different than the students down below. Whatever process had melted them down into hideous monsters also erased anything she could use to tell them apart. And if bugs got old, she saw no sign of it here—there were no gray hairs and wrinkles on creatures that had neither hair nor skin.

She recognized Mr. Albrecht from his sideways military cap and jacket, which lent him an air of authority his identical form couldn’t otherwise.

From the sound of things, one of the office staff was giving him an inventory. They were separated into a much smaller group—most of the stage was taken up by a pack of other bugs more or less her own age, many of which were in no better shape than the adventurers down below. They whispered and cried and huddled together, on the edge of a dozen different mental breakdowns.

Not Amie, though. So long as she had purpose, she could focus. The strangeness of her situation could wait.

She made her way to the front of the counselors, though she was a junior hire. As far as leadership went, her and the others from this summer would be last in line for anything. Still, she had to know.

“Starlink is completely dead, sir. Landline is giving us nothing—and no response so far on any radio frequency. Nothing.”

She settled onto the ground just behind Mr. Albrecht, at the front of the counselors. She recognized the speaker by voice as well. Nate Conners, the camp’s IT guy, had lost so much weight he could’ve split into three different bugs. He even sounded healthier, despite the inhuman reverberation.

“I want good news, Nate. I have almost a thousand terrified people in Stella Lacus Adventure Camp. What do we tell them?”

“Well, uh…” He looked to one side, then the other. None of the other staff spoke up to support him. “Power system is still working. Cistern still looks full. Good thing we went off-grid last year?”

“Yes, these frightened children will be overwhelmed with joy they can relax in an air-conditioned building while we gradually mutate into melted puddles of flesh.”

Someone cleared her throat, drawing their attention. When she spoke, Amie knew her too. That was Mrs. Martinez, camp’s head cook. “Season was supposed to end in two weeks. That is what we have in the freezer. Maybe we stretch to three, with some empty bellies. If the food truck doesn’t come, we have unhappy campers.”

“Noted,” Mr. Albrecht said. “For the moment, we will focus on keeping everyone safe. We’ll speak tomorrow about alternate ways we can call for help. Inventory, I want you to check on fuel and get back to me. The buses are out of the question, but we might be able to take a Humvee down to Lakeville for help in the morning.”

“Assuming we aren’t shot on sight,” someone else said. “God, what are we?”

“We don’t know the same thing hasn’t happened in Lakeville.”

Amie could keep quiet. She wasn’t important enough for her opinion to matter here, really. In a few minutes they would just tell her to go down to the campers and keep everyone calm. But Amie hadn’t come to Adventure Camp all these years to keep her mouth shut now.

“Lakeville isn’t there.” She stood up, stepping forward. Her voice identified her, and she could see several bugs from her side glare harshly at her. She ignored them all. “The road hits the interstate, then dead-ends.”

Several bugs turned on her, including Mr. Albrecht. He didn’t glare, at least not that she could read. It was hard to tell what a bug wanted from her. “How do you know that, Counselor Blythe?”

She’d probably get herself screamed at if this was the military—but it wasn’t. She was just a camp counselor who taught people to make shelters and tie knots. “First thing I did when I woke up was hike up to Lookout Point,” she said, a little more confident. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky right now. There’s not a valley down there like there should be, there’s another mountain. Lakeville isn’t there.”

Mr. Albrecht swore under his breath. “Well that’s… not ideal. Alright, everyone. Counselors—I need you to do what your name implies. Keep the camp from tearing itself apart. In the morning, report for breakfast with your assigned groups. We’ll disperse to cabins and tents after that.

“Office staff, along with Counselors Poole, Reyes, and Blythe, come with me. We have work to do.”

Chapter 4

It was a rough night.

Not just for Amie—compared to most of the other campers, she was coping fantastically well. With almost everyone sleeping together in the same room, she heard everything.

She couldn’t sleep. From the number of other voices, from the people shifting around in the dark, she wasn’t the only one. How could anyone possibly get comfortable in a body that just didn’t make sense? No matter how she tossed and turned, the body never felt like hers. She was imprisoned in a cell that always kept pace with her, moving faster than she could escape.

Without tiredness, she could do nothing more than turn over the words of Mr. Albrecht’s meeting in her mind. She could not sleep soundly, filled with hope that the adults and people in charge would make all her problems go away. She knew with certainty that no one in camp had a clue what was going on, or how to fix it.

The smart, wise adults had come up with nothing better than her and her younger brother had out in the woods. All the staff’s hope centered around calling for help to the federal government, or some other sympathetic organization.

She could not return to check back on her brother that night. But whatever other strangeness was happening at the Adventure Camp, there was another fear that went deeper.

He looked different. Every single camper, every member of staff, would all notice him instantly. There was no way to hide him and pass him off as one of the numberless black bugs. But the real difference was why.

There was no trouble getting the camp to wake up again. Sometime before dawn, the collective weight of campers decided they were done tossing fitfully and everyone got up. Lights came on, and campers made their slow way out to the showers.

“Breakfast in your usual groups,” called another counselor. That was Counselor Poole, the oldest and most senior of their number. He had been throwing her dirty looks during the meeting last night, for sticking her head where it didn’t belong.

But once she was mixed in with the crowd, she didn’t attract a second glance. Unlike her little brother, she looked basically the same as all these other victims.

Not having any campers as her specific responsibility meant breakfast was the perfect time for her to slip away, vanishing into the trees and away from the slow procession to the showers. She moved cautiously at first, until she was far enough from the busy parts of camp that no one would be looking for her. Then she tried to run—only to trip on her face, and slide along the dirty gravel.

Well that was unpleasant. She rose unsteadily, taking things more slowly after that. So my instincts about how to run are all wrong. I’ll have to remember that.

Her brother’s tent was on the north side of camp, about as far up the mountain as anyone could be. That meant there were few others wandering up here. The few she did see barely gave her a second glance. How many were campers trying to get away from the claustrophobia of such a large group? How many were counselors off on their own private missions?

Amie didn’t stop to ask a single one of them.

She didn’t expect to find the tent occupied, not with how awful her own night had gone. Wes had actual insomnia, so surely this transformation would be doing him no favors.

She heard him snoring through the canvas before she even reached it. Lucky bastard.

She didn’t want to wake him, not if he was getting the rest she was denied. But he had to know what was happening. She stopped outside his tent, then rapped on the metal pole with one of her new, stupid hooves. “Wes. Wes, we need to talk.”

It took her a few tries to get him to stop snoring. He squeaked, shifted around inside the tent, then groaned. “Amie?”

“Are you decent in there?” Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning for observers. “Sun is coming up. You need to know what happened.”

It was only a distant line over the horizon, bright orange spreading slowly over the mountains. For the first time in her life, Amie couldn’t appreciate the beauty. She was much too agitated.

“Of course I’m not,” he said, exasperated. “Clothes don’t fit right anymore, remember?”

“Right.” The tent wasn’t tied shut, the flaps just overlapped in front of her. She pushed them open with her nose, then slipped inside.

The tent had fallen into clear disorder since her last visit. His carefully-packed belongings were now scattered on the floor, clothing and snacks and camping supplies spread with no particular order.

Being smaller meant that her brother still fit in his sleeping bag. He sat up in the cot, looking as bleary-eyed as anyone could. The tiredness was almost infectious. But why hadn’t that worked on any of the other campers? From their complaining, Amie guessed that few had managed to sleep. “You were gone all night,” he said. “I assume that means something good. Or something bad.”

“Both.” She explained everything in a rush, what little there was to say. “So nobody knows what is going on. Mr. Albrecht is keeping everyone calm, for now. But I don’t know how long anyone will listen. Right now it seems like he has a plan, but it’s a lie. There’s no cell service, no satellite, no phone lines. We’re completely isolated up here.”

He nodded grimly. “Pass me that big plastic bag.”

She looked down, then rolled her eyes. Or tried to, anyway—her eyes didn’t work the same way. If she wanted to focus on something, it was just an effort of concentration. She didn’t feel her eyes move, or that any specific part of her eyes was more sensitive than the others. Weird bug stuff. “You’re not supposed to have food in your tent.”

She took it in her mouth, lifting it up onto the cot beside him. The bag was full to bursting with snacks. Amie set the bag down, then went on, ignoring Wes as he fussed with it. “The plan is still to ask for help. Once the sun is up, they’re going to try to drive one of the jeeps out there. They’re been working all night to get the pedals usable at our size.”

“I’m sure the rest of the world is excited to make friends with the horrible bug monsters.” He managed to get the bag open, dumping its contents of oversized granola bars, packs of beef jerky, and fruit snacks onto the cot in front of him. “You want any of this?”

“Nah.” She waved him off without even thinking. “I’m not hungry. But there’s one other thing you need to know. Wesley, I don’t know how else to say this, but you’re… different. I didn’t see a single other camper who looked like you, or any of the staff.”

He gave up fighting with a trail bar and just put it in his mouth, tearing the wrapper off with sharp teeth. He ate in ravenous bites, practically swallowing the huge thing before her eyes. The smell coming from that thing, how could he stand it? “Is that a bad thing? We’re all freaks, who cares what flavor.”

“No, but…” Her wings opened, buzzing nervously. She recognized the sensation now, along with the slight lift she felt when it happened. Or maybe she was just imagining that part, since a creature with wings ought to fly. “We’re all the same freaks. Everyone in camp is a black bug like me. Not identical—there are subtle differences. I think with some practice I could identify people from the way they look. But you—you’re going to stand out the instant you leave this tent.”

“That’s weird.” He pawed thoughtfully at the bed in front of him, before selecting another trail-bar from the pile and tearing that one open too. “Wonder why. I would think it came from being out on my own, but I was with you during the storm. I bet dozens of other campers were out too.”

She nodded. “I covered for you with your counselor, said you were feeling sick and that I’d check on you. You might be able to lay low for a while before they notice. They’re still figuring out the damage right now—the lower part of camp wasn’t included, it looks like, so we don’t have the lake or some of the cabins down that way. Sounded like a few campers ran off into the woods after the storm, too. They’re going to send out a few of us to track them down, including me.”

“If anyone can find them, it’s you,” he said, his mouth full of dried granola bar. “You think we’re gonna wake up from this nightmare anytime soon?”

The smell was so awful she actually retreated, spreading both her wings. Her fins flared out too, as though subconsciously making herself bigger compared to something so repulsive. “You sure about eating that? Smells like it went completely rotten when we crossed over.”

He finished chewing, waving her off. “Tastes fine to me. Maybe black bugs don’t like granola.”

She hadn’t even considered that possibility. They’d both transformed, so why should they have the same preferences? “Oh, one more thing. Give me your phone. There’s a kid in one of my groups, Rick—he can install something on them, so they talk to each other without a tower. I’ll bring it back to you.”

He gestured to one particular spot in the pile. “Right there. Not sure how we’re supposed to use phones without any fingers.”

“Very carefully,” was her only answer. The real one was even grosser than the way humans usually used them. How many times had she taken hers to the bathroom, and now she had to put it in her mouth?

She stole a little pouch from his stash, a fanny-pack the other students had mocked him for wearing. It was the perfect size to stash a phone, and clip over her shoulders without covering the wings.

Before she could make it out of the tent, Wes rolled out of bed, then caught her by the shoulder. “You sure you want to go out there alone, Amie? You lost as much as I did. No Mom, no Dad, no… human.” He laughed, she didn’t.

She felt the tears coming before they arrived. She shouldn’t let him see, not with how much he would be counting on her. But even if they were both hideous monsters, he was still her brother.

She embraced him, her whole body shaking with strangled sobs. Her body wasn’t made for it, and the sound that came out instead was another reminder of how wrong she was. A high trilling sound, like a dinosaur sound effect from one of the Jurassic Park movies.

“I’m sorry I brought you along this year, kid,” she stammered. “You should be at home right now, planting flowers or… whatever you do in that garden. Spending time with your nerd friends. You should be at home with Mom and Dad.”

He held her, as awkwardly as any sibling hug could be. “Maybe. But then you’d be up here alone. I couldn’t live with that either.”

“You wouldn’t know.” But arguing was silly. After a few seconds she let go, breathing in sharply. She wiped her eyes, but felt no moisture. She couldn’t cry.

She felt better anyway, far more than any night’s sleep. So many of the other campers, almost everyone here, had to face this alone. Not her. “I’ll mention you to the nurse while I’m out there. She’ll probably want to look at you. But you being different might be the key to getting out of this. Maybe you’ve got the human secret in there somewhere.”

He giggled. “If I figure out what that secret is, I’ll let you know. But if it’s all the same…” He yawned, wings opening in time with his mouth. “I’m going back to bed. Get me if anything crazy happens.”

Something crazy was waiting for her just outside the tent. The sun was up high enough to light the mountains with brilliant orange, spreading from their peak to all nearby. The view wasn’t as good as from Lookout Point. She wouldn’t be able to see the valley, even if she wanted to.

But she could see some things, including a mountain standing before them instead of a valley. Adventure Camp wasn’t on the edge of the range anymore, but right in the middle.

If she squinted hard enough, or at least deluded herself into imagining she was squinting, she could just make out something two peaks away. A village of houses nestled into the rock, with the trees felled all around it. Smoke rose from it in little lines, and figures moved about between squat stone houses.

At least they weren’t alone.

Chapter 5

It was not a difficult process to retrieve the campers who had wandered.

Amie knew the trails around Stella Lacus Adventure Camp of course, better than almost all the older counselors. She knew where frightened people wandering alone would likely flee, without needing to search for hoofprints in the mud. But without all this, she still could have completed her task.

The fleeing campers hadn’t just left footprints, but also a different kind of trail, subtler and unseen. It was the same kind she had followed after first waking, when she tracked Wes up to Lookout Point. It was morbid, maybe even disgusting—but Amie could sense their fear.

There was something to be said about the strength of an emotion and the depth of the trail it left behind. Where Wes had felt only mild curiosity, some of these campers were beside themselves with terror. Nothing else could drive someone to flee away from potential refuge, and out into the wild.

She was part of a half-dozen counselors to begin the search, with a hissing radio strapped to her shoulder. It was a good thing cell service had been so poor up here even before the unclassifiable disaster that mutilated them, because Adventure Camp relied on handheld walkie-talkies to keep staff in touch, instead of just calling back and forth. It meant the same system could work without interruption or change.

There were just over a hundred campers missing when the day began. Not knowing how many were staying in cabins that had not come along, there was no guessing the exact number they still had to look for.

They found eight total, and one staff member. Of those, Amie brought in a full third.

She brought them all back to the multipurpose building, where staff members with experience as a very different kind of counselor offered the best reassurances they could. If nothing else, it helped to see the camp of fellow monsters. No one could believe themselves uniquely guilty when everyone else was also punished.

It was late afternoon before the search was closed, and the rest of the crew was excused to rest. But not her—she was brought into the camp offices, for another meeting of the leadership staff.

The room was sparser than it had been the night before. Only Poole remained from the counselors, and several office workers were gone too. Instead of two rings of chairs, there was only one.

Since the last meeting, Mr. Albrecht had a pair of trousers in addition to his military cap. The design was crude, with simple cuts for the tail and ragged cuffs. But they fit, despite his alien body. That made Amie shift uncomfortably as soon as she sat down, along with several others.

They weren’t all naked anymore. Why couldn’t she have clothes?

At least someone had set up a pitcher of ice water against the wall. She drained several glasses, even if she had to use her mouth to carry the cup around. More embarrassment.

“We’ll go around in a circle,” Mr. Albrecht said, as soon as everyone was seated. “We have people off doing important things I didn’t want interrupted. And… some who wished to avoid responsibility.”

He looked around the room, fixing each of them with an intense glare from bug eyes. Or maybe it was meant to be something else—reassurance? “I know the temptation to break down, give up, flee. Your calm until now is above and beyond any rational expectation for your performance. Thank you.”

If people give up at this rate, this will be an empty room before too long.

“Most important things first. Communication, Nate?”

He shook his head once. “Bad news to worse, Mr. Albrecht. No signal, no response on any radio frequency—and no radio bands at all. We should be receiving hundreds of channels up here. There’s no GPS signal either, not with any of the devices I tested. I can only think of three explanations for this.”

Mr. Albrecht waved one wing expectantly.

“Every GPS device in camp was sabotaged while leaving their other functions intact,” he said, tapping one holed hoof on the conference table. “Two, something damaged the entire GPS network. The sun could do it, but if it did I think the camp’s power system would be down too. But there’s no damage, except for a blown fuse connected to the relay that fed the missing cabins. Option three—there are no satellites up there. We’re not where we came from, and there’s no one to call. There won’t ever be someone to call.”

A wave of fear and discontent passed through the group. In just a few words, Amie could feel the immense emotional weight. Fear over the future, over family and loved ones now out of reach, over what would happen to the camp without supplies. It grew like pressure in the room, festering in the silence.

“That is… a disturbing thought,” Mr. Albrecht said. His words of calm stilled some of those runaway feelings, at least enough to keep them from building completely out of control. “What about our other immediate needs? Mrs. Martinez?”

She swore under her breath, a few muttered Spanish words that Amie could halfway understand. The feeling of anger and frustration was palpable beneath it all. “Everything that is not meat has gone rotten. Everything in the freezer, dried too. Even the flour that should last years. Even alcohol. That’s why there was no breakfast or lunch. Forget what I said about two weeks. We have much less.”

“Don’t dump anything,” Mr. Albrecht said. “I find that… suspect. Even if we cannot eat it, there may be other uses for spoiled food. If what Mr. Conners suspects is true, we may have to turn our attention to the long term. Our adventurers are young, but clever and brave to be here. I have no intention of keeling over and accepting the cruel judgment of fate. Do any of you?”

He glared around the room again, eyes electric with energy. Just like the despair Amie had sensed before, this emotion was just as overpowering. Mr. Albrecht’s resolve was a welcome replacement for her fear.

“Very good. Onto the other details we learned. We were able to travel two miles down the interstate before the highway ends. Whatever did this doesn’t appear to have purposefully targeted the camp, but captured an oval of the mountain that includes most of camp, along with some of the facilities below. The gas station is still there, though it was locked up for the night. What about the search teams? Did you find anything useful?”

Amie realized all the eyes were on her. None of the other counselors were important enough to make it to this meeting. But with the rate other staff were leaving, maybe this was more of a burden than a privilege. “There is a town a few peaks away. Don’t know exactly how far since the mountains weren’t there before. But the visibility is really clear, so… fifty miles? Half that if we could fly.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her wings, which responded to her thoughts, opening from under their protective shell. “Do we think these are supposed to work? They seem so complicated to be vestigial.”

“They could not possibly lift a body our size,” said the nurse, in a thick, vaguely European accent Amie couldn’t place.

“That’s what they said about the bumblebee,” Nate said.

Half the room groaned. Amie grinned, hiding her goofy smile behind a hoof. That worked better when there wasn’t a hole in it.

The nurse ignored him completely. “I was up all night taking measurements. X-rays, blood samples. Nothing good. It is what you expect. We have no bones, no human blood. No MRI machine obviously, and I cannot do dissections. If I could, I do not know what I would find. If you have any medications, even aspirin, do not take it. This biology is so different we have no idea what it would do.”

“Which means we have no medicine.” Mr. Albrecht tapped his own hoof against the desk, frustration growing. “No painkillers. No way to treat fevers or infections.”

“We may be forced to test if patients’ lives are at risk,” Nurse Sobol said. “But we have no surgeon anyway. Most I could do is stitch up a wound, set a broken bone. We don’t have skin or bones, so my role is less clear.”

He sighed. “I’m counting on you, Mrs. Sobol. Thank you for your hard work.”

The meeting continued like that for another hour or so. They considered several options—debated how to keep everyone busy, and what changes to make around camp. Amie had very little to add, though she was still grateful to be there. Unless the adventurers tried to throw off their leaders, these meetings would mean being one of the first to know what the camp would do next, along with anything else they learned.

In the end, the only change was an upcoming meal, cooked from some of the frozen meat they still had. But Amie barely cared. She still didn’t feel hungry.

It was still light out when she made her way over to the pioneering building. The place was on the outskirts of camp. Beside it was an open clearing of various elevations, where poles driven into the ground simulated trees, and makeshift survival shelters were held together with unseen glue. The building itself was really just a large metal shed with some electric lights and plenty of storage.

She found a dozen bugs inside, all working. At first she couldn’t even tell what they were working on—so many different bits of cloth, rolls of canvas, rope, and other unidentifiable things were scattered here. She couldn’t even see the floor through it all.

But a few seconds of squinting through the doorway and she realized what she was looking at: backpacks, satchels, and all manner of carrying bags. Or they had been. Her students were in the middle of modifying them, with one unfortunate bug standing in the center as a model. Several others circled around, taking measurements with scraps of rope, or cutting cloth to size.

“You’ve been busy,” she said, approving. “What’s all this?”

Someone stepped forward. She didn’t recognize the bug by his appearance, but his yellow and black scarf was familiar to her. Marcus, the oldest and most experienced of her crew. He was so high in the Boy Scouts that she’d never actually taught him anything, instead relying on him to help her run things when there weren’t any other counselors along.

“We want to be ready to run in a hurry. That means being able to carry supplies. We’re trying to make a bag these bodies can wear.”

She kept her expression neutral, or tried. It was easier to keep the concern from her face than it was to keep her wings from opening. “That’s a good idea. Be conservative with what we have, don’t waste fabric. Once camp runs out of stuff, that could be it. We might never get more.”

The campers abandoned their work then, surrounding her by the doorway. They wanted to know everything she did, about the future of the camp, about what their leaders planned. She didn’t know most of the answers, and the ones she did they were better off not hearing.

But she couldn’t keep silent about everything, or else lose their trust. Given the cracks already starting to form in camp administration, she might need to rely on them sooner or later. “All the food isn’t bad,” she said, selecting a single useful fact among what she knew to focus on. “The meat is still good. I think we might be… obligate carnivores? They’re cooking a dinner tonight we can actually eat.”

“Good, I’m already starving,” said one girl, among the youngest in her group. Even she had the strangely distorted voice of the alien insects.

“We should think about traps then,” Marcus said. “Hiking around camp, the mountains seem like they have plenty of animals. Fish in the river too, if we can eat those.”

“See what you can do,” she said, inspecting their work. “I like what you’re coming up with. Rick, did you finish with the phones I left you?”

A bug no different from the rest flopped off a folding chair near the back. A dozen or so phones were all plugged into the wall there, using a complex maze of chargers. A single actual laptop was there too, on which he had been typing with painful slowness. “Sure did! Still tweaking some of the specifics. Phones don’t have strong antennas these days. There’s a way to make a base node for a mesh network like this, with a really big antenna. If we can get it up high, it could probably reach anywhere with line-of-sight.”

Amie took the two phones, sliding them away into her pack. “Marcus, see if you can get Rick a meeting with the robotics kids. They’ve got boxes and boxes of… smart stuff. Maybe together you can figure this out.

“One other thing.” She lowered her voice, glancing nervously out of the building. But she could see no one in the forest there. The sound of usual camp activity was nowhere to be heard. There was no regular crack of gunfire from the range, or splashes of water from the pool. What voices she did hear were hushed, just like theirs.

“I’m going to bring my brother here. I know he was too big a wimp for the overnight. But he’s… I’m not sure I trust anyone else to keep an eye on him. I’m sure we’ll find something for him to do.”

Chapter 6

Amie should’ve known that talking to her kids would be the easy part. They were desperate for someone to give them instructions, and explain the insanity they were living in. Amie couldn’t explain what she didn’t know, but at least she could impart a sense of order and legitimacy to an otherwise out-of-control situation.

By the time evening came around and she had a chance to check on her brother, she found the tent empty. Most of his stuff was still there—but that meant very little. No amount of clothing would make him blend in outside, or protect him from the mountains outside.

The trail wasn’t as clear for her to follow this time, but that didn’t matter. Wes was her brother, and she could guess where he would end up. His friends in camp would be at robotics… but that would mean walking into the center of camp looking like a pack of skittles, which he would never do alone. Where did that leave?

She couldn’t see any sign of motion on the lookout, and he’d already been up there once. Where else would he end up?

She wandered out along another trail, this one leading down the mountain instead of up it. It didn’t lead into camp directly, but sideways into the woods. Followed far enough, it would lead to a property fence, and the interstate.

With no one to drive it anymore, other than a few old buses and jeeps in the camp garage. But none of them were on the road now. Amie followed the road all the way to the fence, where two sections of metal mesh parted just enough for a person to squeeze through. At their size, it was trivial to fit, just like the deer and other large animals that were always flowing in and out of camp.

There was something strange about walking along a gravel access road, and eventually finding a cement street, leading to a highway onramp. Bright green reflective signs proclaimed the destinations on either side, and “Stella Lacus Adventure Camp, No Services”

Her brother sat just beside the road. This time there was an entire family of skunks—a large adult, then a row of tiny babies. They all looked up as she approached, but didn’t scatter.

The smell wasn’t as bad as she might’ve expected, either. They hadn’t sprayed Wes yet, nor did they seem threatened by him. “What are you doing with the wildlife?” she asked. “Is it gonna be cougars next?”

He looked up, wings halfway open. The sunlight only made him look orangery than usual, making his fins seem to glow. That didn’t happen to hers. But the animals actually reacted to her. The little ones scampered away, herded across the street by their mother.

Amie watched them go, relieved they hadn’t turned this into a standoff. A confrontation she would never have pursued. She watched until they were out of range before approaching her brother. “What were you looking for out here?”

He shrugged. “Hoping someone would drive by, I guess.”

She sat down beside him, feeling a little small and shriveled by comparison. “That would just be a nightmare for all of us. You’d get kidnapped by some hillbillies or something, thinking you were a magic talking deer.”

He laughed. “Guess I am. Weird alien bug deer. But I wanted to do something to help, and there’s nothing I can do in camp. I don’t have skills like you do, the other campers don’t look up to me. But maybe I could be a set of eyes at the right time, to notice things others missed.”

There were other things he wasn’t telling her. There was a thick undercurrent of fear buried just beneath the surface, along with stranger feelings she couldn’t quite identify.

“I don’t know how to put this, Wes… does it feel like you know what people are thinking?”

His head snapped up instantly, meeting her eyes. Regardless of what he said, the answer was yes. “I haven’t been around as many as you. But I can always tell how you’re feeling. Families get a sense for that stuff.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean the normal kind. I mean a real sense. I mean like birds can feel magnets or snakes see in infrared. It feels like there’s another sense here that I’m using without even knowing how. That’s how I found you both times, I just sorta felt where you’d gone.”

He stood abruptly, taking a few nervous steps onto the cement. “You might be right. I’m feeling something I wasn’t before, and it might be emotions. I haven’t got a good look at the others like you, but I see lots of similarities. You think maybe we’re different stages in the… life cycle? Lots of bugs have radical transformations they go through. Maybe you’re the larval stage, and I’m the mature adult.”

It was her time to break into energetic giggling. “You’re the adult? Nurse Sobol is a million years old. Pretty sure she helped treat allied soldiers during the first world war.”

He actually seemed hurt by her laughter. He backed away, face twitching slightly with something. Almost pain, but not quite. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s a stupid theory. Whatever it is, real age doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’m not that smart, and I like to think I’m not dumb. So why am I the only one who looks weird?”

She patted him on the back with one hoof. “I still love you, Wes. Even if you’re a skittle.”

He grinned back, relieved. There was more real feeling there, she was absolutely positive. He actually thought her feelings would be changed because he was a different kind of freak.

“I think hiding you outside of camp is getting silly,” she went on, before this could turn even more awkward than it already was. “I talked to my Pioneering kids. They know you’re different, and they’re going to keep an eye out for you.”

He tensed, his cheerful grin vanishing in an instant. There was something almost physically painful about that, a change that twisted her gut as much as her guilt. Strange. “You told other people about me? I’ve been hiding!”

She flared both wings, retreating a step from him. “Not just any people. I didn’t feel right telling Mr. Albrecht, but my kids are as good as they come. I didn’t say anything specific, just that I wanted to keep you on the down-low until we knew better why you were different.”

She lowered her voice. “Unless you wanted to try and steal a rifle from the range, having my kids on your side is the next best thing. They’re not just here to climb rock walls and swim all summer. If I gave the word, we’d run out into the wilderness and stay hidden there. They’re on my side, so help me put them on yours.”

“You think that will matter?” he asked. “We have a camp full of people, Amie. You think this is gonna go all Lord of the Flies? I don’t like how literal it would be if that happened.”

She smiled, but his expression remained flat. His face remained as deadly serious as the emotions he radiated.

“I don’t know if it will hold together,” she said. “We’re not from the same places, we’re not in the military, we don’t have that much in common. Mr. Albrecht is already having trouble keeping all the staff working together. I don’t know what happens when the food starts to run out. If we don’t get outside help fast, camp is going to fall apart. I can’t look out for everyone, but I want to look out for my kids. Please don’t make this difficult.”

He groaned, and she needed no superhuman senses to read his exasperation. “This is a bad idea, Amie. But it’s probably not better than hiding on the edge of camp forever and hoping nobody notices. I guess I’ll come.”

It wasn’t a short walk back to camp. But instead of heading straight back, Amie gestured for the highway. “I heard the gas station is still here. Want to scout it with me? The alternative would be heading back for dinner, but I’m not hungry.”

He patted his side with one hoof, eyes wide. “Not hungry. Not sure what crazy you’re talking right now. I’m starving. But I’ll take gas station food over walking into the mess hall in front of God and all camp. Let’s go.”

They walked together along the side of the road, keeping to the gravel. Amie had made this same hike many times, definitely never persuading the young male attendant to give her alcohol that she never shared with other counselors after campers went to bed. But even with the streetlights all dead, it was impossible to get lost. There was nowhere else to go.

“So camp is all solar?” he asked, as they passed under another dark streetlight. No sign of damage, no blackness or cracking in the bulb. It was just utterly dark. “Do you know how much power it has? How much storage do we have for nights?”

She shook her head once. “Never cared. I just know they put all the panels up after my first year. And they’re still working. That means the water is too, as long as it rains and nobody takes long showers. Staff are a little worried about that—tank up above camp was sometimes topped up with city water. But there won’t be any water trucks up this way again anytime soon.”

There was no exception for the gas station either, no sign of life from within. No cars were parked in front, and the fridges were all dark. “How do we get in?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want to break anything. It’s so big, feels like… an important relic. An icon of reality. Future generations might be coming here in pilgrimage to the sacred Pilot station.”

She shoved him in the shoulder with one hoof, then gestured around the building. “Nothing sacred about gross burritos. Hope Booker is safe down at the base of the mountain, not sucked into this whole mess.”

She made it to a back door, where a simple word-combination lock hung on the door. Simple for human fingers to twist around, anyway. It took the two of them working together, with Wes holding the lock with one hoof while she twisted it in her mouth. It tasted awful, like grease and old plastic, but finally she heard the click, and it fell to the side. Then she pulled the door open.

The back room was stacked with storage boxes, with familiar brands stamped on them and snack foods emerging from within. The inside of the station, structurally sound though it might be, was far from clear. The cooler was a blob of different melted ice-cream flavors, and the section that should’ve been under heat-lamps smelled like it wanted to give her a dozen different diseases. Yet it had only been a day. Maybe it was still edible?

She wasn’t hungry enough to figure that out—or hungry at all, for that matter. “See if there’s anything here you like,” she said. “But nothing alcoholic.” She twisted her pack to the side, unzipping it with her teeth. She moved slowly, careful not to dislodge the phones inside. “Let’s stock up. I’ll eat anything you will, so pick stuff you like.”

They went through, packing it to bursting with protein bars, granola, and other things that wouldn’t need refrigeration. Amie hesitated in front of a rack of beef-jerky, considering what Sobol had said during the meeting. But something caught her eye—a distinct flash of light from just out the dark windows.

“Shit,” she swore, gesturing for the back. “Come on, Wes. Looks like we weren’t the first ones to have this idea.” She gestured again, but there was still no response.

Finally she followed his gaze out the windows, and her mouth fell open.

Two things stood outside, looking at the gas station like it was the relic of some ancient civilization. She would’ve called them animals a few days ago, like little horses she’d seen at the petting zoo.

Her view of the world was different now. They had fur instead of polished chitin, and normal mammalian eyes. But in basic body plan, they weren’t that different.

“This is the place, Sweetie Drops. The Causality Violation originates from just up the hill.”

Chapter 7

Amie gestured urgently for her brother to keep his head down, watching as the mysterious figures vanished down the road. She kept them hidden in the building until they were far enough away that she couldn’t hear them anymore. Only then did she take her backpack from her shoulders, dumping its snacks onto the floor at their feet.

“They looked so strange,” Wes muttered. “Not like you, or like me. You think they were from another camp? Or maybe down the hill?”

She ignored the question, selecting the object she’d been hunting for from among the food-items: the radio. She had to wedge her hooves just so to get the button pushed, but she had practiced that one enough times by now. She switched to the emergency band. They would still have someone listening, right? “Stella Lacus camp, this is Amie Blythe. Over.”

There was a brief pause, only lasting a few seconds. Then the radio hissed. “Copy Amie. What’s your emergency?”

They’ll find out we were down here, no getting around it. “We have two strangers coming from down the mountain, over.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Sounds like good news!” the speaker said. She was pretty sure it was Nate. Who else would rather be sitting in the radio booth over getting out into camp helping people? “Could you confirm? What do they look like? Over.”

The question had obvious implications now, even if she wouldn’t have considered them before. He wanted to know if they were human or not.

“That’s why I called on this line. They don’t look like us, but they aren’t human either. I’m not sure what I’m looking at. Horses, but not bugs. They’re still talking our language, and they have… strange powers. It looked like they just appeared from nothing. Over.”

A much longer pause this time. When the voice finally answered from the other end, she could hear several others whispering at the same time. She couldn’t make out any of the words, but she didn’t need to. Amie could guess at what they meant. “You saw them appear? Where, exactly?”

“Just past the Shell station. They walked past it a few minutes ago, and are on their way towards camp. Two individuals—can’t miss them when you see.”

A different voice echoed over the radio another second later. She recognized it instantly as Mr. Albrecht. “Say again, Miss Blythe. You saw two strangers, clearly a different species, but speaking the same language. They appeared from nothing, like we did when Stella Lacus shifted to this… location. They are on their way up to camp now. Did they seem dangerous?”

She hesitated. How could she make a value judgment like that, with the safety of the whole camp on her shoulders? While she deliberated, her brother was already getting restless. Wes backed towards the door, clearly eager to go.

She couldn’t blame him. “I didn’t see guns or anything. They felt… afraid. There might be a little hostility too. Does that make sense?”

Just like asking about whether they were human, some questions had clear meaning even if no one actually said what they meant. Those on the other line all knew what it was like to sense emotions. How could they not?

“Yes,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Don’t let them see you, Amie. I’ll meet them myself. Over and out.”

The radio went quiet, leaving them with only the steady drip of melting ice cream for company. “They don’t care that we were down here?”

She shrugged. “Nobody can eat this stuff anyway. I guess there’s fuel we can’t pump without a siphon, and some electronics. Need a phone charger?”

He glanced to the shelf. “You don’t feel bad about stealing it? I mean…” His wings opened, buzzing nervously. At least he shared that strange body language in common with the other bugs. “I don’t like stealing.”

“We can only pray to God that the owner and all their staff were nowhere near Camp Stella Lacus when we got ripped out of reality,” she muttered. “We didn’t steal anything in here. Someone stole the whole mountain.”

That seemed to satisfy him. After a few seconds, he selected the biggest, thickest battery-bank, one with a solar cell atop the plastic. “Always wanted one of these. Room in your bag?”

She had just emptied her bag, so there was room for quite a lot. She tore the plastic free, settled the battery bank inside, then replaced the meat snacks. She would have to try those when she had more time.

“They should be past us by now. We can go back.”

Together, they made their way out the back. She stopped long enough to click the lock back into place, and shut the door. Maybe that would help them escape suspicion. So long as they could keep the snacks hidden…

She kept the radio clipped to the outside of her pack as they walked, tuned to the emergency channel. They did not get to see what happened when the strange visitors encountered Camp Stella Lacus. But at least she got to hear it.

“See them coming,” Poole said. “Two people, just like Amie said. Over.”

“Two horses,” someone corrected.

“I’m stepping out of the jeep,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Switching to speaker.” Then his voice came a little further away, only slightly distorted by background static.

“Hello there! If you’re here to help us, God knows we need it. Can you—” Then silence.

“Confirm, did they just vanish?”

“Gone,” Poole said. “Did you feel it? There was a flash of… heat, almost. Can we feel radio waves?”

“Goddamnit,” Mr. Albrecht said. “They saw me, I know they did. Muttered something to each other, and the one with the horn just… they vanished. Felt absolutely terrified. Worse than most of our campers the night we arrived. I think the one with the horn might’ve pissed himself.”

There was no laughter. “Can’t be good. What do we do?”

“Camp meeting tonight,” he said. “Obviously. There are so many other concerns. We need to secure food first. Then water, then… I want all our target-practice firearms accounted for, and a full inventory of every round we have left. Staff meeting in two hours. All hands on deck. Over and out.”

She sighed as the emergency channel finally went quiet again.

Her brother glanced her way, looking exasperated. “All that, and they didn’t even talk to us? What’s the point of coming up here?”

“Don’t know.” She stopped, then stepped out of her pack. “You take this. Stash them both with my pioneering boys, ask them for help hiding our stuff.”

“Why?”

“Maybe no reason. But the longer this goes, the more I think they were right; maybe it would be better to be ready to run. Those two horses just appeared from nothing. Could they bring in an army the same way?”

“I… don’t know,” he admitted. “Guess so. They didn’t feel like the types, though. Being a little scared of us makes sense. I was scared when I saw the mirror! Maybe if they stayed long enough to talk to us, they wouldn’t be afraid. We might be able to get some real help.”

She wasn’t quite so optimistic, but there was also no reason to argue for it. Yes, let them be as depressed as possible over things they couldn’t control. That would improve their lives so much!

She was at the staff meeting that night, but ultimately there was nothing decided beyond what they had already suspected. Yes, the visiting strangers might have been friendly, or perhaps they were scouting for an invasion. They had no idea, and maybe they never would.

Mostly the conversation focused on how hungry camp was getting. “One meal a day isn’t sustainable, Mr. Albrecht,” said Poole. “Keeping everyone under control is hard enough after we were transformed into monsters. What happens once they’re starving?”

“I feel it too,” Mr. Albrecht said. His tailored jeans were joined by a jacket now, making him resemble humans far more than any of them did. Just a few items of clothing gave him so much authority. “You can ask the kitchen—I’m not taking extra meals or extra helpings either.”

Mrs. Martinez nodded sharply. “True. I’ve caught some campers trying to sneak in. Might want to have a few eyes watching the freezer. But that’s something else—the rice cookers might be electric, and the microwaves—but the stoves use propane. When that runs out…”

A collective groan passed through the room. It left Amie staring. She could feel hunger from everyone here, to varying degrees. Why would they be, when she felt so normal?

“We need to discover the tolerance for eating our other supplies,” Mr. Albrecht finally said. "Nurse Sobol, find some hungry volunteers. Mrs. Martinez, collaborate. The buns on tonight’s sloppy joes didn’t seem like a problem. Find how far we can stretch. For the rest of us—we need to bring in more.”

His attention turned on Amie. “You were down near the gas station. Has it been looted?”

She shook her head once. Technically that might be a lie, but it felt true in spirit. They’d mostly taken snacks for her brother.

He’s hungry too. I’m the only bug here who isn’t. What’s wrong with me? She should probably start forcing herself to eat. If some strange aspect of her change was suppressing her appetite, it wouldn’t be good. “Shelves weren’t restocked the night before we…” She hesitated. “Do we have a name for it? When we all turned into monsters?”

“The Transit,” someone said. One of the arts counselors. “We wanted a name that didn’t inspire negative feelings or self-hatred. Since it’s clear we’re somewhere else, it was a good match.”

“Since the Transit,” Amie continued. “Back room looked pretty well stocked. Several boxes of beef jerky. They have ingredients for the kitchen too—hot dogs and stuff. Maybe we can get those before they all go bad?”

Mr. Albrecht selected a few bugs from among their number and sent them off with orders to do just that. The suggestion that there might be more to eat was enough to grind the whole meeting to a halt until they were off.

We better not go all Donner Party up here. Will we still be stuck here in winter?

“We should have thought of that,” Mr. Albrecht said, as soon as they were focused again. “We can’t overlook any source of nutrition. We have twelve-hundred people up here, how are we going to feed them?”

Amie didn’t listen very closely after that. The ideas ranged from greenhouses and planting fields to dedicated fishing in their rivers and lakes, and hunting parties to go out into the mountains.

“Hunter gatherer populations could never get this high in one place,” someone said. She didn’t even catch their face. “If we rely on fishing and small game, we’ll deplete the mountains around us in no time, and have nothing left.”

“Should we send everyone away?” asked someone else. “Maybe smaller groups could survive better.”

“Smaller groups of teenagers,” Mrs. Albrecht said. “I know how highly you all think of the campers, but don’t forget. They are children—they don’t have the skills to survive out in the wild. They came here to hike and climb and swim, not forage for berries in the woods.”

My kids can do that, Amie thought. Not that it does them much good. They can’t eat them.

“Separation should be a last resort,” Mr. Albrecht said. “We don’t know the world we’re in, or if we’re in another time or place. We do not know what is waiting for us at the base of the mountain. We know that there are others, but not if they are friendly or hostile.

“Our best chance of survival is the same thing humanity has done for our entire history—work together, pool our skills, and protect each other. Every idea suggested here tonight is good, we will try everything we can. Hunting, fishing, farming. Counselors, I want you to go through your campers and separate them for each of these responsibilities. We’ll also take volunteers with medical experience, for the kitchen, and general labor.

“Make it clear to them that after tonight, everyone eats with their labor team. We set the expectation right here that we need every camper to contribute with whatever they have. We will only work them for a few hours each day. The rest of the time, I want to keep camp recreation open. Keep scheduling our usual activities—movie night, laser tag, anything to keep them distracted.”

How are we supposed to play laser tag without hands?

“These are teenagers we’re talking about,” Poole said. “Some of them won’t cooperate. They might try to run. Or worse.”

“Persuade them not to,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Keep reporting attendance. I want to know as soon as someone goes missing. But we will not spend any more resources trying to keep people here who want to leave. We have food now, we have the promise of warmth and shelter and their friends. Focus on what we have, not what we’re missing.”

It was a good plan, or at least the best they could manage given their limitations. But would it be enough?

“There’s one more thing,” Amie said. The meeting all turned towards her, clearly not expecting anything beyond silence from her. But if there was ever a chance to tell them, this was it. Some of the adults looked angry with her for breaking her silence, others just annoyed.

She stood. “I know it seems like everyone in camp is the same kind of weird bug alien, but that isn’t quite true. I know one person who looks different. Different enough that people will notice.”

Some of the frustration faded into interest. For others, she saw doubt. But she wasn’t going to stop now.

“Explain.” Mr. Albrecht kept his voice neutral, leaving no hints for Amie to guess how he must feel. “Who is this, and different how? It might be relevant to our predicament.”

“My little brother, Wesley. He’s…” she launched into an explanation, describing his unusually colorful body, but also all the features he shared in common with the regular bugs. She produced her phone, showing the camp director a picture she’d taken of them together. She intended it to be a comical addition to social media, once this nightmare ended and they were restored to their home.

Mr. Albrecht looked over the phone, turning it over in his hooves before passing it to the nurse. “Pay particular attention to this case, Sobol. you may want to call this camper in for testing along with any other volunteers. His differences might mean nothing, or they might be a valuable clue. I will… recognize your brother at chow tomorrow morning, Amie, call him up before the camp. Make sure he never travels alone until then. You know how children can be.”

She nodded, taking her phone back from the nurse. “T-thank you, Director.” She sat nervously back down. But privately, she overflowed with relief.

Thank God the camp had someone sensible in charge, or they’d really be screwed.

Chapter 8

Mr. Albrecht’s plan to keep the camp together worked for the next two weeks, more or less. Amie soon found herself part of a hunting team with many of her pioneering students, setting off into the wilderness each day in search of game. They used traps and snares mostly, baited with things that none of them were interested in eating. But she carried one of the camp’s shotguns over her shoulder, in case of larger game. But those opportunities never came.

On a good day, that meant a rabbit, maybe a few squirrels. She would think the wildlife were bigger here, if she didn’t know it was herself who was so much smaller.

It was grisly work, since the creatures they caught were usually alive when they found them, struggling to escape from simple snares.

One of her boys usually brought them down with a bow, or just a few large rocks. There was nothing pleasant about watching some little animal die. Amie didn’t just see them die—she felt it. They might not be people, but they radiated the same terror, the same agony as they were killed.

Maybe this is why so many native religions worship the animals they hunt.

It meant she did her part to keep the camp supplied. She hiked back with their kills each day, leading a half-dozen or so proud campers. Already they were gaining a reputation in Stella Lacus. In their spare time they crafted little necklaces from the camp’s supplies, adding or marking a bead each time one of their traps brought in a kill.

Without any intervention on Amie’s part, she watched as her campers found their way to the top of the camp’s burgeoning hierarchy. Of course the bugs working so hard to expand the camp’s little chicken farm were helping in their own way. But a promise of eggs months from now was nowhere near as immediate as tossing something into the stew for that night.

They had more manpower than tasks to be done, which meant campers relegated to the very bottom—picking up litter, sweeping floors, or doing anything to “contribute” somehow. So long as they did, they still got to come to supper.

Her brother was among this last group. Wes didn’t have the stomach for hunting, or even creating traps he knew would be used for it. His very first trip out into the woods had also been his last. The soil made for poor farming, and what had been imagined as a vast crew of workers turned into two dozen to nurture a greenhouse full of herbs, and a few test plots.

Those would probably turn into chicken feed, if they survived the harvest. Shame the camp didn’t have pigs or cows.

Even so, Amie made a point of visiting her brother for dinner each and every night. It wasn’t very hard to get vegetarian rations from the kitchen, with a simple request. With no one interested in eating it, it was just slowly going bad.

Most meals weren’t in the multipurpose room anymore, but separated into their labor groups. For her hunters, that meant wheeling a cart out to the Pioneering pavilion just before nightfall. They had relocated their tents near the building in the last week—despite some protest from other counselors, no one stopped them.

It made sense for people doing the same stuff and living the same schedule to be together.

Only her brother looked out of place in their number. He wore no necklace of kills, and attracted mostly uncomfortable stares whenever they looked his way.

“Line up!” she said, stepping inside. Someone switched off the old projector, and a few kids clicked their laptops closed. Others stopped sharpening spears, or carving arrow-shafts. “Last of the hot dogs tonight. Enjoy your last taste of crappy gas station food.”

They all lined up. Without anyone to ask for it, she found the line formed according to past successes—those who had recently brought in several kills were first to the front, while those who only worked on traps from camp were in back. Her own brother was at the very end of the line.

Not that it mattered—she knew how many there were, and always brought back the right number of portions from the kitchens.

Even a few weeks were enough to see the first effects of deprivation. Her kids looked… leaner somehow, particularly the ones that started heavier. If she started to look that way too, she couldn’t see it in the mirror.

Sometimes she joined her best hunters at the front of the room. But she could tell something was bothering Wes, so she joined him in back. She settled her plate to the table beside his, grinning. “How’s the homefront?”

He shook his head. “Coming apart at the seams.” He poked at his hot dog, then descended on it like a ravenous animal.

She waited patiently, her own food untouched. While they ate, she remained alert to what her students were doing. Their strange new senses let her feel all their emotions, even if her eyes were closed. There was lots of pain—home sicknesses, regret, and an underlying despair. But positive feelings dominated—excitement about the hunt, and relief in friendship and shared labor.

They were all castaways now, separated from families and friends. At least they didn’t have to do it alone.

“Not so bad here,” Wes said, a few minutes later. “The way they look at me Amie—” He shivered. “Nurse Sobol has her whole list of differences, but it doesn’t help explain why. I should be a bug just like you, and I’m not.”

She reached across the table, resting one hoof on his. It wasn’t nearly as supportive as she could’ve been with a real human body, but she didn’t have much choice. “If anyone gives you a hard time, call one of us over.” She raised her voice as she said it, looking around the room. “Nobody gives my brother a hard time, right? You look out for him.”

There were several nods of agreement. She felt real enthusiasm from them, matched in equal measure with some underlying hostility. They don’t like that he doesn’t hunt with us.

But at least for now, their loyalty to her won out. “He’s our mascot!” someone else said. “Our good luck! The marksmen team has rifles, but we still have them beat. What’s the score at again, Collin?”

“Fifty-one to thirty-eight” Collin said. He was one of the few more interested in his laptop computer than their meal. He better eat that quick if he didn’t want another bug to snatch it. “Good luck, yeah.”

Wes looked down. “Guess there are worse things to be. Maybe that’s what I should do—follow you around on hunts with pom poms. I could cheer.”

She giggled, then pushed her tray towards him. “Might scare our food away if you did that, Wes. I think you’re doing great from right here. Doing…” She hesitated. “What are you up to these days?”

He took one look at her portion, then devoured it. There was no waiting for her permission, not after so many nights of doing this. The gratitude she felt from him in response was more satisfying than any steak could be.

I might starve to death, but Wes is making it home from this. No matter what it takes. Any day now she would start feeling the effects of hunger. Not today.

“The intranet,” he said. “I’m not as technical as the robotics kids. I don’t know how their new antenna works. But writing pages is pretty simple. I use this template, then add information about stuff we’re doing in camp. I spent the last few days putting movies into a computer and… ripping them? I think that’s what it’s called. Guess it will be pretty cool when we can watch stuff from wherever. I’d rather just go home.”

She got up, crossed to his side of the table, and wrapped one leg around his shoulder in a hug. “Me too, Wes. Me too.”

They stayed like that for a few seconds. The hunters wouldn’t act so affectionate with each other. But they could eat grass if they wanted her not to act like family around her struggling little brother.

When she looked up, she found them staring—but their emotions didn’t make sense. She felt hunger, the same as when she arrived with the night’s meal.

It was harder to read bug eyes, compared to human faces. Even so, they didn’t seem to be watching her much. It was Wes who interested them.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “When you said weird—you meant like this?”

He nodded weakly. “Yeah. It’s not all the time. But it’s happening more the longer goes by. I wonder if I’m your food.”

“No,” she snapped. Too loudly not to be overheard. But she didn’t care. “You’re nobody’s food, Wes. We’re basically the same species, with a few subtle differences. You’re like us, but… without the holes. And with a more versatile diet. We just need to figure out more about us.”

She looked up, then waved over Rick. “Hey, Rick. I’m curious about something!”

He hurried over. He was shyer than most of her campers—that was for the best. The longer they kept so many teenagers together in one place, the harder it was to keep them… behaved. “What is it, Ami?”

“You’re still in camp, listening to the radio like I asked. Right?”

He nodded once. “And watching the intranet. The way a mesh works, there’s no one with true webmaster permissions. But I see everything public.”

That meant the library of media her brother was helping with, along with the little websites and the public message board. That was the mass-texting area, where campers chatted with each other and vented their frustrations. Using it was nominally against the rules, but Mr. Albrecht was secretly encouraging it. It meant the staff had free access to how the campers were really feeling.

“Any new discoveries about bug-horses? What happened to that girl who claimed she could do magic tricks?”

“She hasn’t said anything about it,” Rick said, hopping up onto the bench across from them. “But I poked around. Nurse took her off work duty, took her in with medical. Hasn’t left since.”

“I heard Adrian said he was figuring out how to fly,” someone else said. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Instead of hiking to all our traps, we could just fly right over!”

“Or we could go to the other mountains. That one with buildings on it might have food to sell us.”

She stood up. “If someone figures it out, we’ll all practice until we can do it. We’ll get better at it than anyone else at camp. We’re not going to let some other group beat us, are we?”

“No!” they shouted. Any conversation about her brother or his unexplainable strangeness fell to the wayside, forgotten.

For another night, anyway.

So went another week. Their meals got smaller and less frequent. Excitement around camp faded into the background, transforming to a sense of general resignation. Summer finally relinquished its grip to fall. It got colder at night, and the game they hunted a little harder to find.

She could live with all that. On the other hand, it was far harder to accept the way they treated her brother.

Outside of her hunters, bugs stopped talking to him. She had to escort him around camp when he wanted to go anywhere. It wasn’t just her campers who felt hungry around him—now almost everyone did. There was something strange about a bug with color that set them apart from anyone else.

But it was the camp director that convinced her it was finally time to do something, when he called her into his private office. “Miss Blythe…” He gestured for her to sit down. “There’s no easy way to ask this. But you’ve been one of the most reliable people since this whole thing began. You’ve weathered this storm better than people twice your age.”

She nodded once, taking the offered seat. “If this is about our lower yields—we’re working on it. We’ve come up with ways to venture out further without—”

He lifted one hoof, silencing her. “It’s not that. I’m sure you’ll figure that out, I won’t pretend to understand it better than you do. This is about your brother.”

Chapter 9

“Wesley?” Amie asked, confused. They were alone in his office. Mr. Albrecht still dressed, though he was one of the few staff members to bother wearing so much. Amie herself had modified a rain-coat for the wettest days, but that was all. Within the first few days, “wearing clothes” had solidified as something the “camp” people did. Those who went out into the wild—hiking through mud and dirt and sometimes camping for a few days—wore only practical things.

“I know Wes, he wouldn’t cause trouble. He’s still pulling his weight with the other hunters.”

It was still a little intimidating to be around someone like Mr. Albrecht, who retained so much humanity despite all he had been through. At least a little inspiring, too.

Mr. Albrecht clicked his tongue once, disapproving. “I have heard otherwise. But that isn’t why I called you here. How much any one person can reinforce our food supplies is not the only concern. The issue is that we’re leaving untapped resources. I’ve spoken with Mrs. Sobol about this more than once. Your brother has some… unique mutations. His ability to overcome our limitations in diet might suggest… all kinds of things I don’t understand.

“I’ve called you here to make a request. Persuade him to volunteer with the nurse for ongoing study. He’ll be well-treated, and we’ll be able to get the information that might save all of camp from starvation. You know as well as anyone how likely we are to raise enough chicken eggs to feed this many people through winter.”

She kept her expression neutral. She could only hope that would translate to her emotions as well, because she had no way of stopping those from leaking out. Deep breaths. Stay calm. “So you’re saying he would… check into the clinic, and not help with hunting anymore?”

He nodded. “I know this might sound harsh, or unfair. He’s done nothing wrong. You have carried the weight of a dozen campers on your shoulders and more, with that hunting team you lead. But what are we supposed to do when faced with starvation in an alpine winter? We have to see what he has that we don’t. That means more intensive study.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” she lied. “It feels like it should be his decision to make. I can’t force him to do anything.”

She couldn’t force anyone. There were at least a dozen campers missing now, along with a few staff. All had wandered down the mountain and never returned.

“That’s a good place to start,” he said. “You can tell him that. Persuade him to volunteer. But understand that if he doesn’t… it will get unpleasant for all involved. When it comes to the survival of the thousand campers and hundreds of staff, I am not gambling with lives.”

“I… yeah.” She shivered, rising from her seat. “I’ll go tell him. You want him to report tomorrow morning?”

He nodded once. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, Amie. You’ve been a tremendous service to Stella Lacus Adventure Camp since the Transit. I don’t know where we would be without you.”

She hurried out of his office, before she could reveal more than she already did. As soon as she was out onto the gravel road, she broke into a run, darting up the hill for the Pioneering building as fast as her footless stump-legs could carry her.

Her wings buzzed as she ran, and sometimes it even felt like they might lift her right off the ground and carry her through the air. But that was probably her imagination, dropping her back down almost as swiftly as she flew.

He must know I don’t like the idea. How much could he feel?

They couldn’t read minds, she had learned that much over the last month. But even basic feelings were a lot of information. Her dissatisfaction and rebellion couldn’t be invisible to him, right? He had to know what they meant.

But she heard nothing on the radio as she ran. She eventually grew breathless, slowing as she reached the building. The act of running was enough to draw attention from other campers, when stability was the chief good Stella Lacus provided.

Her hunting team would not be asleep, despite the hour. They had all abandoned even the pretense of sleeping, and used the time for relaxation or other social activities. With one exception.

She waved at her students as she passed, but ignored their obvious gestures to converse. She had something more important in mind.

She’d converted the building’s custodial closet to a bedroom for herself and her brother—which really just meant Wes, since she never slept more than twenty minutes a night. Mostly it was somewhere to keep her notes, and have some time to herself if the pressure got to her.

Wes was already asleep inside, curled in his hammock. She clicked the door shut behind her, before reaching up to nudge his shoulder. “Wes. Wes, don’t freak out. But I need you to wake up.”

He twitched, then sat up abruptly. At least he was a light enough sleeper that he didn’t completely freak out. “Amie? What’s up?”

“Still keep that bag of camping gear packed?” she whispered.

It took him a second to reply. While she waited, she flicked the light on, making him hiss and recoil in pain. At least those still worked, with the same power that kept the buildings warm. When winter came and they had nothing to eat, they would be warm behind comfortable windows.

“Didn’t have to do that!” His annoyance grew into anger. He was still groggy enough that confusion dominated over all. “What is this about?”

She hopped up onto the stool beside his hammock, speaking directly over him. “I just got out of a meeting with Albrecht. He wants me to ask you to volunteer for the nurse’s office.”

He groaned, but finally sat up. “That’s… bad? I don’t mind helping with sick campers. I know there’s some gross stuff in there too.”

She swore under her breath. “I don’t mean like that. I mean they’d be studying you.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “What more do they want? I already let them poke me and take samples and x-rays and everything.”

“Exactly! Whatever it is… Albrecht thinks you’re the key to saving camp. He got all ‘greater good’ with me. I don’t want to believe he would do anything to hurt you, but it sounds like he’s willing to do anything to learn what makes you different.”

Wes’s annoyance and anger were gone by now, replaced with raw, powerful fear. Now he understood why she’d forced him awake in the middle of the night. How could he argue? “I’m screwed.”

“No.” She nudged his shoulder with her nose. “If he wants you, he’ll have to get through my dead body first. Get up, get your jacket, and any camping supplies you have. We have to get out of here.”

He was still sluggish and sleepy, but Wes obeyed. He stumbled out of bed, then over to the dresser. His bag was already packed. Hers always was, since she left on frequent hunting trips that sometimes took her overnight. She shrugged it on, then took a few extra moments to pack away things she usually left behind. A few books brought from home, a picture of her parents, her phone charger… all went in along with the camping supplies.

Wes stopped in place, watching her. Tears welled from his eyes, and he stammered a few seconds before finally managing to speak. “Y-you… you’re coming with me?”

She felt something overwhelming next. It was the greatest, most filling meal she’d ever had. She felt his love, gratitude, and loyalty, flowing so freely that they were almost solid in the air. These were feelings as deep as any human could experience, coming from someone who thought they were doomed. “You don’t have to do that. Everyone loves you here. You have campers depending on you. You’re—”

She wouldn’t have changed course even without the strange feeling. Amie put one hoof on his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “You’re my brother, Wes. And you’re only at Adventure Camp because I pressured you. No matter what happens, I’m bringing you home.”

She tossed his modified jacket off the hook for him. Then she bent down, tightening the straps around his shoulders with her mouth

“You think th-that… we can really get away? There are so many people in Stella Lacus. They know the mountain, they have the jeeps! And there’s the helicopter…”

“He’s not taking all that fuel just to look for you,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve watched Albrecht work. He explores every option. Investigating you isn’t our last hope, it’s one of many different things. He’ll find another way to help Camp Stella Lacus.” And he won’t have either of us along.

The incredible energy emanating from Wes wasn’t dimming as the seconds passed. She soaked it in, washing away her tiredness, and replacing fear with anticipation. Her wings tried to open, but the saddlebags kept them closed.

Then her brother noticed. Wes tilted his head to the side, and discomfort soured whatever energy he was producing. “Is something wrong, Amie? You’re looking at me funny.”

She shook her head vigorously, clearing it. “Something just happened, but we’ll figure it out later. Escape first, yeah?”

She opened the door, and came face to face with half a dozen hunters. They weren’t dressed for war—some of them were in their pajamas. Most wore nothing at all. Every single one of them had their mouth hanging open, looking like they’d been standing outside a feast-hall at the world’s best holiday meal.

They seemed to stare through her to Wes, fangs out and drooling. And why shouldn’t they be? One meal a day just wasn’t enough for any of Stella Lacus’s residents. Hers were a little better off than some, since they “accidentally” lost (then cooked and ate) meat that went above their expected quota.

“Hey everybody,” she said, a forced friendliness in her voice. “Don’t mind us. I’m just going out for a night hike with my brother.” She moved to step between them, and they parted easily. But they were closing in around him, just as quickly.

Shit.

“He can’t hunt,” said Marcus, from across the room. He was one of the few who hadn’t risen from his seat. There were several makeshift traps on the table in front of him, along with her spare radio. It glowed faintly red, and hissed with the occasional burst of static. “You should tell us the truth, Amie. It’s about that order the camp director just put out.”

Order? Her own radio had been off that entire time, tucked away in her bag. Of course she should’ve been listening! Mr. Albrecht had been dumb enough to ask for her to get involved. But once he felt her rebellion—

She pushed Wes back, keeping herself between him and the other boys. The longer they waited, the more his feelings of gratitude were transformed to fear, and the more aware the hunters looked. This wasn’t a pool of ravenous piranhas. Like those fish, the fierceness of her hunters was greatly exaggerated.

“Did he say something about arresting me?”

That did it. Several hunters looked up, seeming confused that they were even standing up. They backed away from her, while others near the open doorway made their way in.

“Just him. They want Wes brought to medical. Said he’s… infected with a deadly, contagious disease.”

“And because they lied over the radio, no one can tell he’s full of shit,” she finished. “Nothing like that.” She looked urgently between them, clearing the way for her brother. There was only a single doorway, but at least it was open now. “Listen. They want to study him, maybe dissect him… I don’t know. But I’m getting him out of camp. Are you going to stop me?”

The hunters shared a look. Nerdy Rick, on his laptop, confident Marcus, and several others. She knew them each by name, just as she trusted them to go hunting with her up into the mountains.

As one, they cleared the path to the exit.

“I don’t want you complicit in this,” she said. “So I’m ordering you to get out of our way. Let us go! If my brother had a disease, then…” Yes, she could use that stupid lie. “It makes sense I want to take him away, to quarantine out in the woods. You were so used to listening to me, that you obeyed.”

Marcus reached out, switching off the radio with one hoof. Then he stood. “You sure you don’t want us to come with you? If this is what’s happening in camp, maybe we should run away too. We could feed ourselves easy.”

He wasn’t just thinking about food, though. She was only a year older than Marcus, she could sense how he felt. And if she wasn’t so busy trying to survive, she might’ve reciprocated. Would he feel that too?

“No,” she hissed, hurrying across the room. “I know you could. You’re all twice as good as the other campers, maybe three times. That’s why you need to stay. Without you, they might starve. I need you to keep this camp going while I’m gone. Find ways to bring in more meat, keep everyone alive until I can… bring back some help.”

“If there is anyone,” someone muttered. But they were quickly drowned out by acknowledgements and agreements from the rest of the group.

Rick gestured to her backpack. “You have your phone in there?”

She nodded. “And my brother has a solar battery. It’s not great, but we’ll be able to stay in touch on the intranet if we’re close.”

He hurried past them to the wall, removing a carefully folded piece of metal and some wires, all stuffed into a plastic bag. “Take this too! Wes knows how to use it—it should seriously boost your range. It’s dependent on weather conditions and transmission power, so you’ll have to experiment. But better to have it than not.”

“Right.” She unzipped her bag, letting him shove it in. They might’ve said something else, except that she heard a distant engine. The jeep was coming—probably with a show of force from Albrecht’s security team aboard. “Marcus, keep everyone safe until I get back. Everyone else, listen to him. He was already in charge half the time anyway. I’ll… try to find a way to help, once my brother is safe.”

Before she could second-guess herself, Amie wrapped one hoof around her brother’s, then dragged him out into the night.

She cried as she ran—bugs could still do that.

Chapter 10

Amie ran.

She’d never been a sprinter before the Transit, or had any interest in endurance sports in general. It was the wilderness that had brought her out to Stella Lacus, not any love for running back and forth along a set course.

But she spent every day out in the forest, traveling between their traps in search of game. She had months of hiking and climbing and kayaking, repeated for years in this exact camp. She knew the mountains as few others could ever hope to equal.

If she were fleeing alone, she had no doubt her pursuers would very quickly lose her in the woods. Camp Stella Lacus might have a few jeeps to their name, and even some copies of her trail maps, but what good was an automobile on paths barely wide enough for a deer?

She wasn’t alone, though.

Wes kept pace with her for about two minutes, before he collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving with the effort. He looked up in her direction, despair plastered on his face. “You have to… go on without me,” he breathed. “I’m the one they want. If I give up willingly, you can escape.”

She stopped, swearing under her breath. She darted back over, lifting him with her head under his. He was still a little larger, but not much heavier. She got him onto his hooves again, then started walking. “We just have to keep moving,” she grunted. “If I was willing to give you up, I wouldn’t be running away in the first place. Help me!”

He did, struggling along down the trail. She’d chosen one of the more obscure paths, one they were forced to explore further and further as they depleted the supply of game living in camp. Importantly it was also far too mountainous and narrow for even the versatile jeep to make it very far.

Maybe it helped, but it wasn’t enough on its own. They walked on for a few minutes, before she felt the first traces of emotion behind them. Aggression, determination, and ambition, flaring as brightly as their fear.

“They can… feel us, can’t they?” Wes asked. There was little uncertainty in his voice. However their strange senses worked, they all had about the same range. If she could feel their pursuers…

“There’s not very many,” she whispered back, urging him onward. “Maybe they’ll give up? I can only feel… three people.”

“You think we could get far enough away?” Wes asked, hopeful. “Even with our emotions?”

No. There was a reason she had the shotgun hanging on the outside, instead of packed away. “They could give up,” she repeated, urging him to change direction. There was at least one advantage to being able to sense their pursuers—they knew what direction to run to move directly away.

“Watch the ground here,” she went on. “It changes to a rocky slope after a little ways, just around the bend. They might not see it.”

Even with that warning, she had to catch Wes by one hoof, stopping him from sliding away down the rough mountainside. They scraped and slid their way down the slope, with Amie wishing the whole way that she could expose her wings and fly instead.

But of all the times to test one of their new abilities, fleeing for their lives from enemies with guns was probably the wrong moment.

The cliff was harder to see and harder to navigate, even with a full moon and bug eyes incredibly sensitive to light. That meant the further they went, the closer their followers came. She could hear at least three separate voices, shouting together. Whether they were yelling about a desire to “save” Stella Lacus, or what they would do as soon as they caught up—she couldn’t tell.

Nothing she felt was friendly. But she kept her head down, gesturing for Wes to do the same. She didn’t think they would try something as hostile as shooting at fleeing people. Would they?

No one’s been killed in camp before. Mr. Albrecht wouldn’t order them to do that.

They had just rounded the bend away from the slope when she heard the first shout. “We know you’re out there, Amie! Stop running, give up the kid! Albrecht’s orders!”

She didn’t stop, urging her brother forward as fast as he could go. That wasn’t actually that fast, unfortunately.

But they could already sense her. Hiding wouldn’t help.

“We’re leaving!” she yelled back. There would be no way to persuade them personally, she didn’t know this voice. None of her hunting team, that was for sure. “Just turn around and go back! If you keep following us, you could get hurt! Nobody else knows this mountain like I do!”

“Somebody will!” they shouted back. “Don’t run, Amie! Director only wants your brother! He never said anything about you!”

They broke into a run. Wes struggled with each breath, but pushed anyway. Fear was a powerful motivator.

“What do we do?” he asked, terrified. “They’re… still following!”

She nodded weakly. “I’m thinking!” She imagined the cliffside, sloping further and further towards the valley. Soon it would join with the neighboring peak, and the furthest extremes of their exploration.

We can’t keep running forever. She pictured the position of each of their traps—the little snares, the pits, and metallic bear-traps. A desperate plan formed then. It might be doomed, but it was Wes’s only chance. “There’s a river this way. I’m going to show you exactly where to run, okay? Lots of game pass this way, we filled it with traps. Past it the slope goes up again, to the next peak.”

He nodded. She could already feel the effects of her words. Having a plan, any plan, was enough to give him hope. “That other town? You think they’ll help us?”

She nodded. “Worth a shot. It’s also so far away that we might not be worth following. Once we’re away from camp, we’re safe. People only know the mountain. We’ve been so—”

Something interrupted her, a terrible crashing sound. Rock slid and cracked, along with several pained shouts, followed by a crunch.

It would be better not to sense emotions—that way, she wouldn’t be able to feel the rush of pain and fear, then a sudden absence. Rage flared up from the remaining two creatures, focused intently on her.

A second later, the sound of gunfire broke the darkness—several quiet cracks from the camp’s target-shooting 22 rifles.

The bullets were aimed in her direction, far closer than mad pursuit into the darkness should’ve been. But the trees and rocks were so thick that there was no chance of actually hitting them.

“You’re dead, Amie! Just like Davey! You knew this would happen!”

As he said it, she knew with total confidence he meant it. That wasn’t a threat. She could smell his fury, like their greenish blood trickling down the mountainside.

“We’re almost there!” she called, urging her brother to speed up. “There are plastic butterflies on some of the trees, see them?”

He nodded. Between the terror radiating from him, and being totally out of breath, it was all he could manage.

“They make a path! Stay between them, and there’s no traps! There are snares, nets, and worse stuff hidden near the river. They won’t know about it!”

Seconds later they made it. The smell of pine and rock was joined by living grasses and trees, and the moisture of clear water.

Their pursuers were running now too. She could feel their pain—it wasn’t just fury at her, but there were injuries from their fall. Not enough to overpower their rage.

“The other side isn’t mapped,” she said, as they reached the first of the plastic butterfly-guides. “Just keep going up the slope. Stay in the trees as much as you can. If you get near that town, no one following will be able to sense you. You’ll be too mixed in with everyone else.”

He stopped, staring at her. “Why… are you saying it like that?”

In answer, she slung the shotgun off her shoulder. She wasn’t sure exactly how she did it—her hooves were all still in the mud, firmly in place. She felt fingers around its familiar barrel anyway. She flicked off the safety, then spun it around once. “They’re not thinking clearly, Wes. If I stay here, I can hide by the river, and bait them into the traps. Once they’re stuck, I can follow you.”

Or maybe do something else.

Gunfire cracked the night again, several shots in their direction. She heard bullets smack into trees, and one sparked off an oversized river-rock.

“Run, Wes! Get as far away from here as you can!”

Tears streamed down his face. He rushed towards her, embracing her in the silly horse-way she was used to, resting his head on her neck. “I love you, Amie. You gotta live through this.”

She knew it, so brightly it hurt. Like a spotlight in the dark, brighter than the ones on Albrecht’s helicopter. Forget hunger—it felt hot enough that her wings were melting.

“I love you too, Wes.” She shoved him back as hard as she could, ankle-deep in the river. “Now run! We’re out of time!”

He splashed through the water. He waded to the other side with a little difficulty, then he was out onto the slope, fleeing into the dark.

He didn’t even say anything about the gun. She glanced to the side, and found it still there, glowing faintly blue around the edges. She could almost see a pair of hands there, in two familiar outlines. How was she doing that?

She didn’t stop to figure out. Instead she turned towards the most dangerous section of riverbed, where the current flowed along a reedy bank. There were dozens of little snares here, along with almost as many heavy metal traps.

They were hunting wolves—the ones they sometimes heard howling late at night.

They hadn’t caught any today, but she found herself grateful for that. That meant no warning to her pursuers, until it was simply too late.

She had been here when they placed these, so she knew what to avoid. She waded out into the water, then crossed to the other side, sheltering behind an oversized boulder.

She settled the gun against her back again, and as soon as she did, the glow went out. Good—at least she wouldn’t be giving them anything too obvious to shoot at. Amie crouched low, stoking her fear. She fought back the powerful determination and confidence her brother had impressed on her—that might warn away her pursuers.

Instead, she focused on her terror. She was out of her depth, someone had just died. She had no idea what to do, or what would happen to her when these two bugs caught up. There was nothing for her to do but hide, and hope they didn’t find her.

“It won’t work!” someone yelled, from the other side of the river. “You could try that back on Earth, maybe! But this is Transit! You might as well glow in the dark!”

She crouched lower, curling up against the rock. A few shots went just over her head, smacking into the trees. How much ammo did you bring? Mr. Albrecht hadn’t sent his smartest after her.

“I don’t want to fight you!” she yelled back. “Just let us leave!”

The answer wasn’t even words, but a guttural roar of rage. Someone splashed into the water, marching straight towards her across the river.

“For Equestria!”

The shout didn’t come from the river, or the trail around them—it came from the sky. A battle cry of two voices, one male and one female. Against her better judgment, Amie turned, daring to peek around the rock.

Just in time to see the strangest sight of her life—two flying horses, bearing down from the sky in glittering gold armor with lances aimed directly at two bleeding bugs.

The river transformed into a battlefield.

Chapter 11

Amie was not a coward. Indeed, she was willing to stand and fight to give her brother a chance to escape, even when that opportunity was remote and his odds of success seemed slim. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep her family safe, even if it meant putting her own life at risk.

But it wasn’t her brother being attacked right now. Instead, strangers from the sky descended on the people who were trying to murder her at that very moment.

Instead of joining the melee, Amie dropped quietly back down against the rock, sliding as low to the ground as possible. She wouldn’t run from the fight—that might lead these enemies to her brother. But she wouldn’t intervene.

Even without a view of the fight, Amie could still feel the terrible anger of it. She couldn’t fail to feel it, not with how completely overwhelmed her emotions instantly became.

With one possible exception, sensing the emotions of her fellow human campers and counselors was a difficult task, requiring focus and concentration. She had learned to read them at an expert level, considering she had a whole group of mostly-boys to care for, with their sanity gradually degrading as their banishment extended.

But these creatures, whatever they were—they required no subtlety whatsoever. Even without looking, Amie could feel exactly where they were standing. She felt the potent mixture of hostility and fear blending together in their minds, merging gradually towards resolve.

Their intensity was so overwhelming that she could barely even feel the other bugs anymore. They were pale echoes, imitations of what emotions were meant to be.

She felt the instant of white-hot pain as a shotgun blast struck one of them, echoing like thunder over the wilderness. That mind went out within seconds. Meanwhile, the other fought against two bugs. They flared with rage, and she heard the terrible sound of something metallic cutting through flesh.

“Did that bitch call you?” the bug screamed, furious. “She betrayed the camp, selling us out to some… monsters from the sky? You’ll never get away from here! Look at your friend—her armor didn’t mean shit!”

The shotgun went off again—the second and only time she expected to hear it. They were double-barrels, meant entirely for sport. God knew they were never intended to be fired at magical horses in the sky.

There was a terrible metal crunch, a trap snapping closed. the bug yelled, and something splashed into the water. “Fuck you!” he yelled. “Planned this whole thing! You think they won’t find out? Think they didn’t—”

She heard a few more meaty crunching sounds, furnished life by her horrified imagination. Strangers fought to the death against monsters who wanted to kidnap her brother and do worse to her.

Then they fell limp into the river. Something else splashed, a single set of steps moving through the water. “Traps—” grunted a low, male voice, weak with pain. “Doesn’t seem like their…” He continued for a few steps more. She heard something dragging through the water, before reaching the opposite bank.

“Sweet Celestia. Gale you’re—you have to wake up.” The speaker was overwhelmed with pain, each word a struggle. But she didn’t need to rely on his voice to know how badly he felt—his agony radiated from him. But those feelings were dimming rapidly now. He’s dying.

Amie finally poked her head out from behind the boulder, squinting through the gloom.

This was not the first time she had seen these strange creatures—it was the second. Both in glittering armor, both covered in deep red blood. The female lay limply on her back, with her companion struggling in vain to staunch the bleeding. It was no use—she’d been hit with a spray of buckshot right across her face. A few pieces had bounced off the helmet—but it didn’t cover her whole head.

If Amie still ate food, she would probably have vomited at the sight.

The stallion finally flopped to the side, breathing heavily. Blood dribbled out from beneath him, soaking into the mud in a crimson pool. But he hadn’t been hit nearly as badly as the other horse—the armor on his leg had absorbed most of it, and only a few pellets had made it through.

“The shot must’ve grazed an artery,” she said, stepping out from behind the rock. She left her own gun hanging limply over her shoulder, untouched. This creature would not be a threat to her for much longer. “You’ll bleed to death unless we can close it.”

The horse spun on her, trying to rise to his hooves. But he no longer had the strength, and landed with a muddy splash on the riverbed. A dagger stuck hilt first into the dirt beside him, reflecting the pale moonlight back onto his face. “K-kill me then… monster. Like you killed… Guardsmare Gale. Murder us for protecting our home.”

Blood dribbled from his mouth, and his words started to slur. If I get close, he could still strike.

“Easy.” She levitated her gun up into the air, then set it down in the grass out of reach. It still moved when she commanded—maybe when she wasn’t fighting for survival she could figure out how that worked. “Easy. I don’t want to kill anyone.” She glanced sidelong into the river, at the two slain thugs. Their bodies were already starting to drift downstream, soaking the water with blue blood. Stella Lacus would probably never know exactly how they had died.

“They would’ve killed me—you saved my life. How about you let me return the favor?” She turned her bag towards him, removed the first-aid kit from inside, and held it up. “See? I’m prepared. I had three whole months of EMT experience before this season of camp started!” She smiled feebly at the pronouncement—the alien did not echo her feeling.

Instead, she felt a terrible sense of resignation come over him. His aggression and fear took too much effort at this point. “Don’t pretend, changeling. There’s no reason to lie. Just kill me.”

She reached for the dagger as she got close, lifting it away from him, and settling it on the riverbank.

She dropped to his eye-level, and froze. He might be an alien—but those eyes were far more human than anyone in Stella Lacus looked. Bright green, with pupils wide with pain and fear. Any attempt to show her sincerity wouldn’t work, not while she was a carnival sideshow.

“Stella Lacus shouldn’t be able to find us out here. No jeep could make it out this far… we should be safe for the night. I need to get you onto dry ground. Once I do, we can… stabilize you. I’m going to help you up. If you attack me, just know you’re attacking the girl trying to save your life. There’s a special place in hell for people who do that.”

His mouth fell open, dumbfounded. His fear remained dominant, but something else rose to join it. She had confused him. “I do not trust you,” he said. “But… not much choice. Feel so… weak.”

“I know.” She set the bag down a few feet up from the river, where the ground flattened onto a wide black rock. Then she approached him from the same side as his injured foreleg. “I had a camper break a leg last week. I carried him like this. Lean up against me… like that.”

He obeyed. For one terrible second, his anger flooded to the surface. He was so much taller than she was, so much stronger. Maybe he would just crush her to death in all that armor, let them die together.

The thought vanished. She trudged up the riverbank with him, barely making it onto the stone before he collapsed. He was still bleeding badly.

“Now hold out that leg,” she commanded. Amie banished her nausea and fear, focusing intently on the creature before her. His body was so colorful, bright green speckled with yellow under all that armor. And of course, stained with blood.

She replaced the headlamp, turning it up all the way, then unrolled the trauma kit. There were so few of these in camp—they might be more upset with her for taking it than a shotgun.

“What… kind of… changeling wants to save a pony’s life?” he whispered. But he wasn’t trying to move anymore. He didn’t have the strength to attack her even if he wanted to.

“Morphine,” she muttered, removing the little plastic cap from the needle. Doing all this alone would’ve been next to impossible for her only an hour ago—but thanks to Wes, it was like she had her hands back again. She braced it against his other leg, then injected. It was only her best guess—but it seemed to work. His features relaxed immediately. That was good, because this next part would be painful.

Amie worked for nearly two hours. She extracted bits of metal buckshot, and fragments of his armor. Under the searing white LED and a waning moon, she stitched the pony back together, one spray of glue and length of catgut at a time.

Some part of her wondered when she would start to weaken with tiredness. She had been running most of the night, now she was performing the most intensive first-aid of her entire life?

But the weakness never came. Her movements remained totally focused, her mind alert. She listened for any sign of motion from the other side, or God-forbid the roaring rotors of the helicopter. Stella Lacus had about a thousand gallons of QAV-1 for that thing, would tonight be the night they finally broke it out and dared flying without their fingers?

Apparently not, because she never heard the engine. Maybe she should’ve stopped to retrieve a radio from the dead before they floated away. But Amie didn’t stop. She could feel the life slipping away beneath her hooves. The pony could not afford to wait.

He slipped into merciful unconsciousness after about an hour. She didn’t have to stop her work to feel for a pulse—so long as she could feel the life beneath her, she kept struggling.

Eventually, she finished. She washed the site of the wound with a little hydrogen peroxide, and settled back against the riverbank.

“Well, sky-horse. If I ever make it home, I’ll be off probation and on a proper crew in no time. Either that, or I’ll become a veterinarian. Not… sure which.”

To her surprise, the horse opened his eyes. She had removed his armor while she worked—it only got in the way, potentially concealing more wounds. His eyes were weak, not focusing on her so much as looking over her.

“Guardsmare Gale,” he whispered, tongue lolling out. “I had… the strangest dream. Dreamed that you were dead, and a changeling doctor was taking care of… It’s so cold. Why do I feel so cold?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” she whispered. “You need fluids, You need something to eat, and you need sleep. A fire would be great, but I—I packed in such a rush. I think my brother has our matches.”

The horse closed his eyes again. “Can’t have. You… always keep that flint. Never go bushwhacking without it. Compass, flint, water spell. What kind of… soldier are you.”

Flint. She rose, leaving him there on the rock. He might not freeze. But if she could get something to warm him up, maybe boil water for drinking, it would sure as hell improve his odds.

She crossed back to the riverbank, where his winged companion had fallen. She hadn’t moved since the other one moved her there.

Amie reached over, carefully removing the satchel from her armor. She turned to go, but stopped in place, frowning to herself. This horse might be a stranger, and maybe she would’ve tried to kill Amie if they’d met. But her intervention had helped save her life. She deserved better than being eaten by wolves.

“Your armor should… hopefully make you sink to the bottom,” she said, turning back to the corpse. “I’m sorry. We don’t have time for a burial. Gale, he said your name was? I don’t know you, but I’m sorry you died here.”

Chapter 13

They walked for hours, long enough that the ground became rockier and the trees scarcer. Amie wasn’t sure Tailslide would have been able to keep going, except that they found a road. That made their progress less direct, but the grade much more manageable.

He might be an alien horse-thing, but Tailslide soon reminded her of one of her boys—unwilling to admit when he was in too much pain to continue and needed a break.

Fortunately for him, she could read his emotions, and knew exactly when to stop. She pushed them just fast enough to always find a shady spot to rest.

The sun was already starting to wane in the sky by the time she could see the first outline of the city in the distance. There were mine entrances here, and terraced homes made of plain stone bricks. Not only that, but there were people here.

Not humans, as some part of her had already known. Otherwise, she would’ve expected animal control the night before, or maybe forest rangers. There would be no familiar faces in this group, or even familiar species. But they were still a long way out.

“Homestretch, Tailslide,” she said. “Keep it up. We’re almost there.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. His expression was glazed, and steps halting. Still, he kept moving. Maybe just by rote, but he moved. “Almost there.”

She kept him going. It didn't matter how exhausted she had become, or how grim his odds of survival. One way or another, she was going to save this stupid horse’s life.

As she approached the streets of the city proper, the locals started noticing them. They flowed over, at least half a dozen concerned citizens.

None of them were dressed in what she would consider “human” attire. Some wore jackets, or saddlebags, but not a single pair of proper pants. She was much too exhausted to care.

“What happened?” asked an older female, one without wings but plenty of lines on her face. She had a pair of thick spectacles. Behind them were harsh, discerning eyes. “Thought folks weren’t to go down that road no more.”

“True,” Amie said. She turned slowly, so Tailslide’s injured leg faced her. “I did my best to patch him up, but I’m not a surgeon. Does your town have a doctor?”

By the time she finished asking, someone else brought over a wooden cart. There were no cars here, and the cart required a pony hitched to it to pull it. But she didn’t care—when they arrived, they helped Tailslide up into it. Then they waited, expecting her to follow.

Guess Wes can wait a few more minutes. She climbed up beside him, into the empty part of the cart. The crowd kept talking—muttered questions about who they were, and what they were doing here. She caught very little of it, other than a single poignant question about how they hadn’t been “eaten by changelings.”

“Back to work, ya’ll,” called the same female who had spoken to her, waving an angry hoof at the crowd. “I’ll see they get the care they need. You’ll hear about what this is soon as I know. Now give us some space!”

They scattered, retreating like scolded children. Except that every single one of them would’ve been bigger than she was. Her stolen body was taller than the real one.

“My name’s Stern Hoof—supervisor for the FlimFlam Regional Excavation and Mineral Extraction Company,” she said. When the cart started moving, she alone walked beside it. She seemed to know where they were going, anyway. Not to a giant guillotine, or hangman’s tree in town square anyway.

The buildings resembled many of the accents—an old west boomtown. They were cheap and full of holes, rattling in anything more than a stiff breeze. There was more care paid to the arrangement of the ore tracks and heavy metal carts rolling down them than the actual road. “Who are you?”

She looked down at her companion, but Tailslide had his eyes closed again. “This is Tailslide,” she said. “I’m Amie.”

“Anemone,” Stern repeated, incorrectly. “Well Windflower, welcome to Motherlode. Forgive me for soundin’ a mite nosy, but if I ask I can pass the word on, and you won’t get every working mare in the city repeating the same questions.”

She nodded weakly. Now that she was finally sitting down, she could start to feel the exhaustion that should’ve overwhelmed her. We made it. Her struggling the night before, fighting up the mountain—it would be worth it, so long as this soldier survived. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but I’ll feel better when Tailslide has someone wiser than me to poke at his leg. I think he might be infected. I’m positive I got the lead out, but his leg was also submerged in a river. No telling what got in.”

Stern nodded. “Course, young mare. We’ll get your coltfriend to a doctor, then we can talk.”

They walked in silence for the next few minutes, while Amie pondered over the meaning of that word. “Coltfriend?” she finally repeated.

“Course.” Stern gave her a wink. “I’ve seen that look in a mare’s eyes before. Wasn’t always as rusty as the rail.”

Amie would’ve laughed it off, if she had the energy. She kept her mouth closed instead—if the aliens supplied their own explanation, she wouldn’t have to invent one.

She used what energy she had left to remain alert for her brother. Wes had certainly reached the town by now. He couldn’t continue all night without sleep, but he also didn’t have to drag a barely-living soldier up every step.

Though she searched for that bright orange reflective coat, she saw no sign. At least he wasn’t locked in a cage or hanging from a tree somewhere.

Eventually they arrived at one building not much different from those around it—except for the large red cross outside, along with text proclaiming it to be the “Field Hospital—Motherlode Mineral Extraction.”

Her eyes lingered on those words. There was something strange about the lettering, or maybe the font? But then she was helping unload Tailslide from the back, and such insignificant questions faded from her mind.

The interior reminded her a little more of the era she imagined with the other structures, right down to the somewhat-hurried young man working alone in the clinic, which stank faintly of tobacco as she stepped inside.

I sure hope these people know about germ theory Tailslide, or you’re screwed.

The young man working the clinic didn’t just have a jacket—he also had a horn, similar to the ones on every bug in Stella Lacus. Only his was straight, curling to a point instead of gnarled and pierced by holes.

He used it the same way, though. When they arrived, he just levitated Tailslide right out of the cart, and onto a gurney. “Another mining accident?” he began, looking bored. Then he saw Tailslide’s leg, and stopped.

His mouth hung open. “Buck me—what happened to him?”

“An explosion,” Amie answered. “Half a dozen pieces of hot lead went straight into his leg. One clipped an artery. I stitched him back together, but—”

“A pegasus did this?” He wheeled the stretcher through the building, into an old-style operating theater. There was literally a large glass window, and raised benches for viewing in the next room.

But the smell of alcohol overpowered the tobacco smoke, so maybe she could trust him. Guy doesn’t really have a choice at this point.

“Yeah?” She shrugged, and found her wings echoed the gesture just as when she’d been a bug. It was a lot slower with all that weight to move, though. “I have a few years of medical training. First aid at scouts, few semesters of nursing school, and three months as an EMT.”

She lowered her voice. “I know I’m not qualified. But he was bleeding out. A tourniquet would’ve cost him his leg.”

He levitated over a looking glass from a shelf, inspecting her work. Finally he settled it back down. “You’re not miners. This is military-level work. All those words you just used—you’re a guardsmare. So is he.”

Stern Hoof watched quietly from the hall. She hadn’t interfered, and remained far enough back that she might’ve missed her. If Amie couldn’t sense her emotions, that was. Mostly curiosity, mingled with a wisp of suspicion.

From the doctor, she felt only amazement. That tasted pretty good. “Yes,” she said. “There was—something happened at the border. An explosion, that’s what you need to know.”

“An explosion.” He paced over to a cabinet, removing several vials from within. They were labeled, though what they said didn’t make sense to her. “Regrow patchy mane” didn’t seem like much of a drug, or “heal broken bone.” At least it was idiot-proof. “This patient has lost a lot of blood, and it does look like an infection. If he’s working with the guard, we’ll… use the regenerative instead. That alright, Stern?”

She waved a dismissive hoof. “I’ll pass the bill to the guard, Sawbones. Spare nothing to ensure he survives.”

“Right.” He levitated several vials back into the cabinet, producing a metal key instead. He unlocked the drawer beneath, withdrawing two vials from inside velvet padding. Both were glowing, bright enough to see even while he lifted them. “I would like some space to work, Miss—”

“Anemone,” Stern said. “We’ll have some tea while you work. The soldier is in good hands, Windflower. I’ve seen Sawbones work miracles.”

Even if he couldn’t, there was little more she could do. She leaned over, resting her hoof beside Tailslide’s shoulder. He didn’t open his eyes this time. “I’ve never lost one of my kids before,” she whispered. “Don’t you be the first. Hold on.”

Then she turned, hurrying from the room. Passing through that door was a kind of threshold—she had done everything for Tailslide she could. His survival depended on another now. She could focus on her brother.

But Stern didn’t let her leave. They walked into a neighboring room, and the female made her tea. No, the “mare.” That particular artifact of horse-vocabulary had caught on, along with stallions, colts, and probably fillies too. She called the crowd ‘everypony.’

Amie had already stolen a body. She would need to steal their language too, if she didn’t want to give herself away.

The tea tasted a little better than she expected. It was herbal, something she’d never tasted before. But she felt another sensation as she drank it—the instant bloated, “junk food” feeling that came from eating something that wasn’t good for her.

Changing doesn’t let me eat things I couldn’t before. Need to remember that. She sipped at her cup only slowly. It took little to let her true exhaustion show.

“That answered many of my questions,” Stern said. “But I hope you understand—a mare on the border, she has a responsibility. I need to know what’s really over there. I need to know if Motherlode is in danger. Do I organize an evacuation?”

Amie glanced to the door, but there was no one else watching. The last thing she needed right now was starting a fake panic in a country she knew nothing about. “About the… changelings, you mean?” Amie asked. She kept her voice low, as though this entire conversation might get her into trouble.

Stern Hoof nodded once. “They attacked your coltfriend, didn’t they?”

“We—” How could she answer, without angering the locals against Camp Stella Lacus? But she couldn’t just lie, or else the injuries wouldn’t make sense.

She deliberated a second. She felt no greater suspicion rising from this old mare—maybe she expected Amie to need to carefully consider her reply.

“The changelings living over there don’t have an army. They don’t want to invade Motherlode. They’re—confused, mostly. They don’t know how their mountain got here. They don’t know what Motherlode is. They’ve never even seen a pony before.”

From the mare’s reaction, she had guessed the word “pony” correctly. “They saw you,” she said. “What happened on our border?”

Amie lowered her voice even more, barely a whisper now. “None that saw us survived, Miss Stern. It’s my hope that we sent a clear message, warning the changelings in Camp Stella Lacus that they’re not welcome outside their mountain.”

“Camp Stella Lacus,” the horse repeated, stumbling over the words. “I suspect you aren’t supposed to share so much with me, guardsmare.” She rose. “I have duties elsewhere, but I will arrange a place for you two to spend the evening, and supplies until a telegram can reach the guard post at Agate.”

Amie stood as well, nodding after her. “Thank you. There’s one more thing—” There was no easy way to ask this next part, at least no way she could think of. “Before we were attacked, I was looking for a—not a changeling. Something different. Bright orange, about this tall. Friendly, maybe a little shy. Not a pony though.”

It all came out in a stumbling mess, but she managed.

Stern stopped, looking thoughtful. “I think I may’ve heard something. I’ll ask around town, get back to you tomorrow morning.”

Could she wait that long?

Chapter 14

Amie sat silently by the window, watching traffic in the city pass. She could have fled into that town, but somehow the outlook of such an attempt did not seem promising.

“Motherlode” had maybe three large streets in total, with a dozen structures scattered across the cliffside. There would be no way to vanish into the crowd here. Not unless she could change the way she looked.

Was stealing a body permanent?

The face staring back at her from the glass wasn’t her own, but neither was the stupid bug she’d been trapped as for the last month. If she could only have one, this seemed preferable. Her features were graceful, rather than angular. Most importantly, she didn’t have soulless compound eyes. This was better.

An alien who was a horse had died so she could have this body, it was true. But she hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. I stole your body, Gale. But I saved your partner. I hope you can forgive me.

The door banged open, and Sawbones reappeared in the doorway. He waved her inside, and she followed. She left her saddlebags in the connecting room—but if the locals thought they were strange, no one had said so yet. Maybe they assumed they were special military issue.

Tailslide lay in a hospital bed against the far wall. Though there was an absence of modern sensors attached to his body, he did have an IV running into one leg, with a sealed glass bottle filled with something clear attached to it.

His eyes were open as they approached, fully alert. Strangest of all, his injured leg hung over the thin hospital blanket—and she saw no injury. No missing patches of fur, no sign of the wounds.

“I don’t know what kind of thread you used—” the doctor said, as they crossed to the bedside. “I poked around once he took the regenerative, but I couldn’t find them. Canterlot has magical sutures now?”

Amie shrugged absently. “I used what was in the trauma kit. Where’s the wound?”

Now it was the doctor’s turn to stare. Confusion radiated from him, aimed squarely at her. That was something she should understand. “We have healing potions for the worst wounds,” he said. “I used enough to get him on his hooves overnight. But when you take him back, don’t let them send him to duty for at least a week. Freshly healed flesh tends to tear when you strain your magic too hard.”

“I won’t, doctor,” Tailslide said. He spoke clearly now, slur gone. His eyes focused instantly on Amie, and never looked away. He remembered her. Was this the part where she had to run?

“I’m going to turn him over to you once he gets another liter in him,” Sawbones continued. “You two go ahead and catch up. I’ll be in my office if anything happens.”

He vanished down the hall, leaving the door open.

Amie settled down on her haunches beside the bed. At least there was a blanket this time. There was no chance of accidentally seeing more than she wanted.

“You really did it,” he said, finally breaking that long, awkward silence. “You got me all the way to Motherlode. Saved my bucking life.”

She nodded. She kept her voice low—no telling how good that doctor’s hearing really was. “Told you I would.”

“I don’t… understand you,” he whispered back, exasperated. “You’re in danger here. Even Motherlode knows what your kind did in Canterlot. Everypony knows someone who lost a relative in the invasion. Thousands and thousands of ponies, gone.”

He believed what he was saying. Only this time, it wasn’t just anger in his words. Some of that was worry, for her. “I would never ‘invade’ anyone,” she said. “I’m out here to save my brother. Do you have any siblings, Tailslide?”

He nodded. “Three sisters. All younger.”

“Then you know how I feel,” she said. Her face felt damp with tears, but she couldn’t stop now. “It’s my fault he’s here. He should be warm in his bed back in Portland. But I pressured him to come to camp with me. I’m the reason he’s in danger.”

She sniffed, wiping her face with one hoof. The fur was much better at it than the shiny black stuff had ever been. “I hope the Motherlode horses didn’t attack him, like you did—but no one mentioned an attack on the town. God, if he died while I was distracted—”

She felt something on her shoulder—his leg. The injured one, though there was no blood anymore. “What kind of changeling are you?”

“I’m not!” she whimpered, but didn’t pull away. How long had it been since someone held her?“I’m a human being. Or I’m supposed to be. I’ve been cursed. Ever see The Princess and the Frog? I’m the ugliest, mangiest frog you ever saw.”

“I… believe you.” She felt it, almost before she heard it. His compassion. Pity, mostly. But there was gratitude too, and amazement. For her, not the body she had stolen. It filled her in a way no refreshments the miners gave ever could.

Hoofsteps sounded from behind them, and the doctor reappeared. “Looks like the saline is all in. I’d keep you overnight, but company policy—I’m not allowed, unless you’re dying. But I have some good news. There’s a bunkhouse waiting for you, just up the road.”

Amie blinked, looked over her shoulder. The stallion was still holding her. She broke away from him, ears tucking behind her head. Half the town would be thinking they were together now. “Oh! That’s great, doctor. Thank you for everything.”

He strode past her, and went about removing the IV, and applying a little bandage to the area. “My work is done, Anemone. Unfortunately, yours has just begun.”

He levitated over a little cloth bag, clattering with the sound of glass inside. A large scroll protruded from its neck. “I have instructions for you, or whatever pony arrives to take you both. Keep him drinking so often he hates it, and he’s pissing clear. With the blood he lost, he needs at least a bushel of beets, however he prefers. But don’t let him skimp.”

He lowered his voice. “So many ponies think the healing was in the magic. But the real healing comes from your own body, after the fact. Give the body what it needs, and he’ll be good as new. Skimp on it now, and he’ll eat himself up trying to heal. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Beets, not beef. Maybe this world didn’t have cows. “I’ll make sure.”

“Good. A few days taking it easy on that leg, and he should be fit to fly again. Don’t let him into the air until then.” He lifted the blanket, stepping aside from Tailslide. “I’m serious, Tailslide. You feel good, but you’re really a sponge left out in the sun. If you try to push your body, you’ll collapse. Don’t want to do that at altitude.”

Tailslide lifted one wing to a salute. “I understand, doctor. This young mare got me this far, I’m sure she’ll keep me honest.”

He rolled out of bed. He managed to put real weight on his leg, despite the gunshot less than a day ago.

These aliens might not have the same medical tech we do, but maybe they don’t need it. They can just regenerate a gunshot.

Her mind raced with the possibilities, down avenues she hadn’t dared consider until then. Could they cure her of being a hideous bug? Could they save all the people in camp, change them back to normal?

At least a group of humans wouldn’t have strange instincts and a restrictive diet to work with.

I did promise my kids I’d find a way to help them.

She remembered the phone in her saddlebags then, along with the crude metal satellite dish meant to get her reception to Stella Lacus’s intranet. Maybe she could take a look at that tonight.

Wes should still have his phone! If he’s in town, I can just message him!

Why hadn’t she thought of that during the hours she sat in the waiting room? Amie couldn’t curse herself for her stupidity—Tailslide was still weak. He only made it a few steps before it was obvious how much help he still needed. Amie walked up alongside. This time he lifted a wing, resting it on her shoulder.

That would never have worked for a bug—but these “pegasus” wings were much stronger.

A friendly old miner waited outside, complete with pickaxe and missing teeth. He led them up the hill a short way, to a row of identical bunkhouses. They were far from luxury affairs, but at least they had real windows, and a door that would shut.

He offered her the key, holding it out in his hoof. Like most of the people in town, he lacked wings or a horn. She hadn’t seen a horn on anyone but the doctor, in fact.

“Expenses covered by the Crown,” he said. “Quartermaster’s already been informed about your needs. You’ll have the best, plus whatever doctor says you need. If there’s anything else, supervisor’s house is the pretty one up on the hill, the one with the garden.”

Just like that he was off, heading straight down the hill. Amie could smell on his breath where he was going—one of the few structures in town still lit, the bar.

Firelight already glowed from inside the house, shining through a crack in the door. Tailslide looked it over, eyes narrowing. “Thought I was over living in places like this when I joined the guard. Living on land again…”

She fumbled with the key, and eventually gave up even trying to use her hooves for it. She just stuck it into her mouth, then twisted in the lock. Her cheeks warmed as she did it, but Tailslide didn’t react. Doing things with her mouth apparently wasn’t that strange.

The interior was better than she expected—about the same as an unremarkable motel. A single large bed off to one side, with clean but plain bedding atop it. They had their own bathroom at least, and it even seemed to have a shower and sink inside.

But instead of electric lights, there were honest-to-God gas lamps, solid metal fixtures that glowed with pale pilot lights. Tailslide seemed to know how to turn them up, illuminating the interior with the same orange flames as glowed on the streets outside.

No couch, she thought. Good thing I packed a sleeping bag.

“I am… not sure what I imagined, when they assigned me to guard ‘Changeling Mountain,’” he muttered. He stumbled over to the table, staring longingly at the heavy glass containers of food.

Heat radiated from several. The smell should’ve been inviting to her. But there was a subtle undertone of something off about it all. Just slightly expired, the same as all the not-meat at camp smelled.

Well the meat smelled like that too, she just didn’t puke it up afterwards.

“I got you.” She removed a plate from the cupboard, then opened each of the trays in turn, placing each one within reach. “Can’t say I expected—any of this, either. The school year should be starting back up around now. I would be learning—nurse stuff. Instead, look at me.”

She settled her saddlebags onto the ground at her hooves, removing most of what they contained before she got to her phone. She switched it on, then carried it over to the table. There were no chairs, so she had to sit on the carpet, opposite Tailslide and his feast.

“You look like my squad leader,” he whispered. “Tough, brave—Gale died a hero. Did you… ever tell me why you were out there in the first place?”

The screen lit up. “Mesh Size: 2 devices. 1 new message:”

“Amie—I hope you get this. I got to the town. The people here seem pretty nice. A little weird. They seemed really scared when they asked me if I was a ‘changeling’ so I told them no. I said I was a kelpie.

I hope you’re okay. I heard gunshots… thought about coming back to help. Sorry I didn’t. Listen, when you get close to this town, you should probably not come inside. I asked, and I think changeling is their word for whatever you are.

They know we live on the next mountain over, and they’re terrified of us.

I asked around, and they found me somewhere to work caring for the chickens. Farmer just moved out—I’m safe, okay? Don’t worry about me. You don’t have to rush in and rescue me.”

Amie started crying all over again. Tailslide set his food down, watching her with renewed concern. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “My brother. He’s safe. I… one sec, I just need to send him a message.”

There was barely any signal to the other device—that meant a call probably wouldn’t work. But she could take out the stylus, and type out a quick message. “I’m safe too, Wes. I am nearby. If you can come to me, I’m in the top bunkhouse on Steel Street. I’ll put something in the window for you to know it’s the right house. Ask for Tailslide.”

She sat back, watching until the word “Delivered” appeared on her screen. Then she grinned, so wide she started crying all over again.

Chapter 15

“That piece of metal there—” Tailslide said, finally setting down his tray. “It’s a spell? One that works even when you don’t have a horn?”

Nothing could bring Amie down just now—Wes was alive. She would figure out the rest in time. “Magic, no. It’s a machine. How it works doesn’t matter. If someone else has a machine like it, they can send messages back and forth. My brother is in town.”

She beamed, her eyes still focused on the screen. The message was already delivered. Wes was probably typing a reply right then.

“I could almost believe you were a pony,” he muttered. “You act like a guardsmare… but you talk like a filly. It would be easier to trust you if you did not wear her face.” His expression became distant, and he finally sat back, no longer stuffing himself. “That weapon was… instant death. If changelings wielded nightmare-magic like that during the invasion, I don’t know if we would’ve won.”

If Tailslide was trying to speedrun her out of a good mood, it was working. “Not magic either.” She glanced nervously down at the saddlebags. Her own shotgun pressed into the fabric there, its oblong shape visible even while the bag was fully closed.

“I would look like someone different if I could, Tailslide. But I don’t know how. I didn’t try to copy your leader. I just didn’t want to leave her out for the wolves. Didn’t feel right.”

He was staring at her. She didn’t have to guess at how he felt. There was plenty of underlying suspicion, but equal parts curiosity. Even a trickle of gratitude around the edges felt more satisfying than all the food piled between them. “You’re a changeling that isn’t a changeling. You changed into Gale, but you don’t know how to change. How many other contradictions do you have?”

She shrugged. “Give me more time in your world, I’ll get a few. Or better yet, get us home. No one on that mountain wants to be a bug, and they don’t want to invade your country. We want to go back to ours.”

A new message appeared at the bottom, short and sweet. “They gave me a job, I can’t let them down. I’ll look for you at lunchtime.”

Amie rolled her eyes, but tapped back a simple okay before turning off the phone. That was exactly what she expected from Wes—never realizing or even caring how much danger he was in. But if the locals don’t think he’s a changeling, maybe he isn’t in danger. They’re taking good care of Tailslide and me.

Tailslide couldn’t see what she was looking at, of course. He yawned, rising from the table. “And what… world is that? Are you from the Badlands, like the queen who invaded? A loveless, desolate place.”

She stood too—not so much because she had anywhere to go, but more because of Tailslide. She had to be there to catch him if he did anything stupid. But he didn’t seem intent on anything but the bed. “I guess there are some edgy teenagers who might talk about it that way. We’ve got our problems, but I think all of us would rather go back. Does Equestria have some kinda magic that could send us home?”

Tailslide climbed up into bed. He moved all the way to one side, leaving the other open for her. She just stared, face growing hotter. Good thing he couldn’t sense her emotions. “I’m the wrong pony to ask. You need a unicorn—somepony with years of magical experience. Maybe the Royal Library would have something on that. Maybe—” He yawned. “Maybe you could ask the princesses, except you… just invaded. They’d blast you all the way to Tartarus.”

She shuddered. Amie might not know what those words meant exactly, but she could read the implication. “So Equestria thinks changelings are… not just a species, but a single government? It’s not possible for some to be good and others bad?”

He shifted in bed, staring up at her. “After the invasion, there were no living changelings captured. But we know how you work—you need love to survive. You’re parasites, who can only take the magic from other creatures, since you don’t produce any of your own.”

He stretched, adjusting the thick blankets. “I only know what they tell us, guarding you. About Queen Chrysalis, and her evil changelings. They came to Equestria for food because there isn’t enough to survive on in the Badlands where they come from. When they can’t get love to feed on, they eat only meat, which barely sustains them.”

Maybe Amie should feel insulted by all that. Tailslide spoke about her as though she were a member of some evil race, guilty of crimes she’d never even heard of. But while the history might not line up, his physical description of her kind made so much sense.

She hadn’t needed to eat for a month, while the others were suffering. They could only eat meat—was it the flesh that sustained them at all, or some way to harvest the energy of life, the same way she must have been doing to her brother?

But Wes didn’t seem unhealthy. If I was a parasite, shouldn’t I be weakening the host? Equestria had been invaded by this species—it wasn’t surprising that they might get some details wrong. Propaganda in wartime did not care about the facts, all that mattered was keeping the population engaged and willing to fight. He thinks we only feed on love. But I’ve felt full around other things. Gratitude, joy, admiration, appreciation.

Whenever Wes felt positive things for Amie, her hunger faded and strength took its place. His gratitude at her willingness to sacrifice herself for him—that still sustained her, days later. I might not find any answers from ponies. I need to find one of these evil changelings if I want to know the truth.

“Does it feel like I only take from you?” she whispered. “Am I a parasite too?”

He blinked up at her, blearily. “Can we talk in the morning? You must be one of Luna’s chosen, staying up so late.” He patted the bed beside himself with a hoof again. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell you anything. Anything that… doesn’t put Equestria in danger.”

He did expect her to get into bed with him. Her wings spread dramatically to both sides, ears flattening again. She had relationships start over less—but not while living on borrowed time, deep behind enemy lines.

Except—she knew what attraction felt like, along with the accompanying hunger for affection. He thought she was attractive, maybe—but there was nothing else underneath. This wasn’t some strange pony way of seducing her, he really just expected her to want to sleep together.

Amie shook her head. “You go ahead. I don’t need as much as you. I’ll—” But she didn’t tell him what she would do. He was already asleep.

She could’ve slipped out into the streets of Motherlode and tried to find her brother after that—but he would be sleeping too. Amie trimmed the lights for her companion, but he didn’t seem to care. He slept so deeply she couldn’t even sense emotions in his dreams.

Amie didn’t know how Rick’s satellite worked, exactly. But there was a printed page of instructions, and she could follow that. Point it towards camp, with a clear line of sight. Connect it to the battery backup, then plug it into a tangled mess of soldered cables and jumpers until the one that went into her phone.

After a few painful seconds waiting for it all to configure, the intranet homepage appeared.

She tapped the link for camp news first, preparing for the worst. What would they say about her and her brother?

“Camp authorities are on the lookout for ‘Amie and Wes Blythe’,” said the latest update. “They are believed armed and dangerous, and may have taken hostages or worse. If they make any contact with you, do not attempt to engage. Report your sighting to Director Albrecht as soon as possible.”

Sure, don’t mention that the ones you sent to capture us tried to kill us. Had they found the body of the one who had fallen off a cliff? There was no obituary—maybe the wolves had found him first.

Of course any contact with her kids might put them in danger. How much did Albrecht know? He might be watching their little message board, for any signs she was communicating with them. Doing so might get them interrogated, or shift suspicion of disloyalty onto them.

On the other hand, he might not know at all. Amie typed the address for their little hunting message board, and found it was awash in rapid messages. Skimming them, she saw her followers were extremely upset. A few wondered if Amie had been planning to betray Stella Lacus all along. Most were critical comments, disbelieving the official story. They had seen her run away from camp, terrified for Wes’s safety.

Amie switched from her usual identity to anonymous mode. She had a feeling Rick would be able to see through that disguise. Who knew what kind of technical information was attached to every message? Hopefully Albrecht would not.

“The species we have become is called ‘Changelings’,” she typed. “Our primary food source is positive emotions, not meat. We can alter our appearance to imitate others. We can also manipulate objects using our horns, with dexterity equal or greater than having hands.

Our mountain has been deposited in a country called ‘Equestria.’ Its population are horse-like mammals that identify themselves as ‘ponies.’ They know we are here, and have armed patrols around the perimeter, watching to see if we try to escape.

Some guys sent to capture me were killed by these guards. They come in at least three varieties—one that can fly called ‘pegasi’ and one with a horn like ours, letting them use telekinesis, ‘unicorns.’ A third variety appears to have no powers, and lacks horns or wings. I don’t know what they’re called.

The ponies believe all changelings are part of a hostile empire that recently invaded their capital, causing much bloodshed and deep fear. They will behave with extreme hostility if they encounter us. We should learn to master our powers before trying to leave Stella Lacus or interact with them.”

It took forever to type all that out with a stylus—but Amie had all night, and her companion was just sleeping. There was no fear that her kids might be sleeping, since they didn’t need it either.

The reply took nearly twenty seconds to fully transmit. Once it appeared in the feed, the scrawl of other messages stopped. A few emoji reactions of confusion or skepticism appeared beneath it.

Finally, one text reply appeared, signed by Marcus. “Are you sure about all this?” it asked.

“Positive,” she replied. “I will show you what the locals look like. Once I didn’t look like a changeling, they were friendly and open with me.” She backed away from the camera, then took an awkward selfie. It took almost two whole painstaking minutes for the image to finally post, even with most of it cropped away.

The reaction was another flurry of reaction emoji, dozens of them this time. Half her kids were watching now, judging by their replies. All glued to their phones.

“You know who else will read this,” someone else with the anonymous tag said. “He’s still looking for you, even after losing Garcia and the others.”

“I know. But I have to share this information I’ve learned, we don’t have any other way to get it. I will send anything else I can. One of the locals thinks there might be a way to send us home, but that I might have to go far away from here searching for information. I will go hunting for it.”

She couldn’t keep up with the flurry of replies after that—some doubting, some begging for more information, a few suggesting that the horse was way cuter than a bug.

She did receive a single private message after that, directly from Rick.

It included a long text file, along with a brief note. “Follow these instructions to send secret messages. Wes will know how to follow them.”

Right. Talk about feeling incredibly stupid—even if most of that message was information she wanted everyone in camp to know, there might be a safer way to distribute it. But there was no taking any of it back now.

She didn’t reply, just saved the file of instructions and packed everything away. She still had a few hours left before sunrise—after a brief nap, maybe she would have time to figure out how her powers worked.

Chapter 16

Amie woke from her sleeping bag to the first light of dawn. A glance at her phone told her just how strange that was—an hour and a half asleep, several times longer than she was used to. Odd. But her pony companion was still asleep, so she still had time to practice. She made her way into the bathroom, pulled the blinds closed, then turned up the lamp as bright as it would go.

There was a mirror in here, so she could see her own body while she worked.

Now if only she could figure out how she was supposed to do something impossible. Change her appearance, sure. They might as well tell her to start casting magic missiles all over Motherlode.

Tailslide made it seem so innate to bugs that he expected her to be capable of it without knowing anything else. And indeed, she had done it without realizing how or why. Maybe she really could just will herself into looking like someone else, and suddenly she would.

It wasn’t the blood. Tailslide’s blood was all over me first, along with all the animals I’ve helped hunt. I never changed into any of them.

There was something in the way she’d been overflowing with energy the night of their escape. Wes’s confidence had enabled her to do other things she didn’t imagine were possible, like moving objects with her mind. All that power made me change accidentally. Now I need to do it deliberately.

She focused on something small—altering the color of her hair. If she could change it from white to bright pink, that should be somewhere to start. Little details first, then she could move on to bigger ones.

The process was headache-inducing. At first she did little more than stare stupidly back at herself, wrinkling her face in useless concentration. Soon enough there was enough light coming in from outside that she could turn down the lamp, and rely only on the weakened sunlight to illuminate her doomed efforts.

Tailslide might be waking up soon. I’m running out of time.

It felt like cramming for a final the next morning, as her brain slowly turned to mush. Instead of a study guide or even a textbook to work with, Amie only had a mirror, and a vague description of powers she had only used once.

Someone shifted in the next room—Tailslide sitting up in bed, stretching away the aches.

Amie jumped at the same moment, feeling a sudden, instinctive surge of fear and discomfort. Was she in danger?

Light flashed around her, briefly stronger than the sun outside. It took a surge of strength from her, in ways that no human could express. There was a well of power there, one still overflowing with strength. She drained some of it in that flash of light—then she landed.

Her hooves touched the ground, and her eyes adjusted to the light. There was another face in the mirror.

She looked a little like Sawbones, except for her obvious femininity. She was shorter, and her fur color was—pink this time. Her mane and hair were pale pink, almost white. There was even a different mark on her butt—a simplified first-aid kit.

Hoofsteps thumped outside, then knocked on the door. “Pony in there?” he grunted, half-asleep. “Got to—use the—”

There was no lock. The door swung open, and there was Tailslide staring at her. He was much taller than she was this time, this new body was almost a head shorter than the pegasus.

He stared back at her, eyes delirious with sleep and confusion.

Amie got out of his way, slipping past him into the tiny bunkhouse. “You go ahead! I was just… trying what you said.”

He looked much more awake when he returned from the room a few minutes later. He watched her from the doorway, silent at first. “You are Amie,” he said. “The one who saved my life. Yes?”

She nodded, slumping down into a sitting position in front of the table. “Yeah. I was trying to use the night productively… learn to do what you said we could, about copying people.”

“I’ve never seen that pony before,” he muttered, walking over to the table. He started picking over the leftovers, tossing much of it away, and selecting what had survived. The miners had given them enough for two. “Where did you meet her?”

“Nowhere.” Amie looked away from him. His emotions were far stronger than they’d been the night before. He was actually recovering, thanks to Sawbones’s hard work. “I wasn’t trying to copy anyone. I tried changing my hair, that’s all. I didn’t even get that right.”

Amie couldn’t read his emotions when she was overwhelmed with her own. She’d done it, without anyone to tell her how! Now if only she could figure out what she was doing enough to make it happen again. Or stop doing it, for that matter.

“Changelings can do more than copy,” he whispered. “A little unicorn nurse, one who hid from the fighting then emerged when it was time to save my life. I could believe that. Easier to look at than my dead commander. Now I don’t have to hear her voice.”

He wasn’t very good at hiding that part, either. He thought she was pretty! An alien was interested in her—except it wasn’t her. This whole body was fake, from the tip of her horn to the end of her braided tail.

She should’ve just told him to stop. But Amie had seen his strength in the face of death, and knew how he felt about her. She couldn’t, because she didn’t want him to.

She was silent while he ate. A whistle echoed outside, along with a faint shout. “All alert! Chow in ten, work in thirty!”

“I… might be in trouble,” she whispered, when the whistling and voices faded. But the noise of a city waking was everywhere now, echoing off the mountains. The day would soon begin.

He laughed. “I would’ve told them about you, if I thought you would threaten Equestria. But I see now—we were wrong. Bugs can be good. That new pony, you might be just what Motherlode needs. You could stay here, get a job at the clinic.”

You want me to stay close, she realized. You want to see me again.

He wasn’t brave enough to say it, though. He picked through the food containers, tossing several into the sink. But he was still ravenously hungry, and ate anything that smelled safe.

“I have to check on my brother,” she finally said. “I need to know if he’ll be safe living in Motherlode too. Protecting him matters more than anything.”

He shrugged. “Can’t believe I’m saying this—but there’s probably a way to introduce that unicorn to Motherlode, so they don’t get suspicious. You need to come from the north instead. It’s a long way to Agate from there, but you could make it believable. Just get really dirty, tear up your saddlebags a bit, say you got lost on the trail, but you’re a nurse who heard the town needed more doctors. Once they see you work, they’ll stop asking questions.”

It sounded so easy when he put it like that. A nurse would probably earn decent pay—she could save it for a while, and use it to research deeper into the force that ponies called “magic.”

“Well?” he prompted. “It would probably be best if you change back into Gale. You can fly out of town any other direction, then come back from the north. And don’t talk to me when you get here—I’ll find you next time.”

He’s actually trying to help me. That simple thought was nourishing to her—but so was his concern. He worried that she would be captured soon. Those feelings sustained her, more than simple physical infatuation.

“That sounds plausible,” she said. “Except… I can’t fly, and I’m not sure if I can change back.” She looked down, where her wings should’ve been. Too bad unicorns didn’t have them, they seemed so useful for showing her emotions with creatures who couldn’t read them.

Someone banged on the front door. Stern, who spoke up a second later. “Miss Anemone? I have a message for you, if I could come in?”

Shit. Amie whimpered, fear overcoming her. The pain came with another flash of bright green light. When it faded, her body was different again. She looked across the room to Tailslide, looking hopeful. The pony shook his head wordlessly.

“Miss Anemone?” Stern asked, more insistent. “I wouldn’t wake you after such a night, but this concerns a telegram from the Royal Guard, you must hear it!”

Amie darted for the bathroom. She left a flurry of feathers behind her as she moved, then pulled the door shut.

Tailslide got the message. “Miss Anemone just got into the shower,” he called back.

She turned for the faucet, and turned it on. Cold water sprayed out—there was no hot tap. She didn’t get in, but crossed to the door, pausing by the mirror to look.

This time she looked like—Tailslide? Or his little sister, maybe. She had the same green coat he did, with a slightly brighter orange mane. It was cut in his exact style, short and military, with a stubby tail to match. The mark on her butt changed again, this time to a pair of crossed swords.

The door swung open, and she heard voices from the other side. Her ears strained, pressed to the door. Thankfully the wood was thin, and she could overhear their conversation.

They exchanged pleasantries, with Stern openly relieved for Tailslide’s survival.

“I can’t wait for her, unfortunately,” she said, after a few minutes. “I have a mine to run. This telegram—I suppose it’s for both of you. See that she gets a chance to read it.”

Then she left, and the door shut behind her. There was a brief silence, then someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Amie?” he asked. “You still looking like my twin?”

She cracked the door open. “I’m not trying to look this way! I panicked!”

And that’s the second time I changed because of fear. I might be able to use that.

He swung the door open the rest of the way. Amie turned away, walking back to the water. She rested one hoof on the handle, then hesitated. It might be a long time before she had a chance to clean herself off again. Maybe she should use it.

“This was a good idea. Maybe you could shut the door, actually? I won’t take long.”

He ignored the request, thrusting a sheet of paper towards her. That was some impressive dexterity, holding it in his wing that way.

It was a small rectangle, with typewritten words printed on it. Reading them made her brain fuzz a little, just like when she read the Motherlode street signs. But whatever that bizarre effect, she could still make out the words.

“MOTHERLODE DISPATCH -(STOP)- MESSAGE RECEIVED ABOUT INJURED PATROL -(STOP)- TROOP CARRIER ARRIVING TODAY TO RETRIEVE -(STOP)- WIRE TRANSFER FOR HEALING DISPENSATION SENT -(STOP)-”

Amie mouthed the word “today” a few times, feeling stranger on her tongue with each repetition. A “troop carrier” would be here today. It would expect two military ponies to save.

“How long do you think they’ll take?” she asked, voice thin.

“Probably would’ve sent a sloop,” he answered. “From the base in Agate. If they leave right now, they’ll be here by noon.”

“Shit.” Amie handed the sheet back. She crossed the bathroom again, and turned off the shower.

Chapter 17

Amie was on borrowed time.

“An entire troop carrier is coming here,” she muttered, staring down at the telegram. It sat on the bathroom floor beneath her, still visible despite the strangeness of it. There was no time to question how she could even understand the native language. The meaning was enough. “I’m so screwed.”

Why am I thinking like a character in a horror movie? Amie darted past Tailslide heading straight for the table. Her phone was still sitting there—if Stern thought anything of the strangeness of the machine, she hadn’t said anything. Amie turned it on, while her pony companion circled slowly around her.

“Maybe both of us are.” Tailslide stopped, staring towards one open window. “Somepony matching the description of one of their officers rescued me, then vanished. Her family should know the truth.”

The phone finally switched on. She stared down as she waited for the app to start. “Mesh connected. 1 device.”

That meant her phone was on and ready, but had nothing else to talk to. Her brother’s phone was off.

She took the stylus in her mouth and typed out a quick message. “Wes—Equestrian soldiers are coming today. We need to leave. I’m going to find you, then we’re running. If you see this message, reply.”

She tucked the stylus away, then started packing everything into her saddlebags, starting with her sleeping bag. “I think the answer’s obvious. Tell them you remember seeing Gale die, because that’s the truth. Then you were too delirious to realize I should be dead. When you saw me today, you confronted me right away, and I changed in front of you, attacked you, and escaped. I’m sure they’ll be quick to believe an evil changeling could do that.”

Tailslide shook his head once. “You wouldn’t attack me, Amie. I see it in you—you’ve never hurt another pony before. I don’t think you could.”

What are you seeing I can’t? Could ponies read emotions too? “If I had to keep my brother safe, I would. But I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to get him to safety.” Could she leave him here in Motherlode while she searched Equestria for more information? But if they think there’s a changeling hiding in the city, he’s the first one they’ll bring in. He looks like a bug, just friendlier than we do.

“I’ll think of something,” he said. “Maybe the truth. But I don’t know what that is. Bugs like you killed Gale.”

She shook her head reflexively. “You attacked them first. I think Gale killed one before they realized what was happening. Then Garcia shot her, and you got him…”

She trailed off, clutching at her stomach. Rehearsing that scenario filled her with a fresh wave of disgust. She remembered the blood, the exposed parts of bugs and horses alike that would terrify most others.

It was war, naked in all its horror. “Oh. Celestia, you’re right. And they were like you? We attacked them without saying a word, and they… defended themselves.”

He slumped to the floor, staring at his hooves. In an instant, his confidence melted into defeat. Powerful guilt washed over him, overwhelming his thoughts.

Amie finished zipping up her saddlebags, tugging them off. She didn’t put them on yet, though. She might want to change again first. “You might’ve forgotten,” she began. “But those two—they wanted to kill me. Well, when they were finished.” She shivered again, bile on her tongue instead of words.

“You saved my life. Those two did not represent the rest of camp. They were… criminal thugs. Hunting my brother, because he was different. I don’t like that anybody died, but don’t lose sleep over them.”

Something hummed outside, a distant droning like an engine. They both stopped, staring up at the ceiling. He spoke first. “Amie—that’s a zeppelin, coming in fast. That loud, it should be here in… a few minutes. They must’ve set out last night.”

She was out of time to deliberate. “You said the princesses might know how to send my people home,” she said, tugging on the saddlebags as quickly as she could. They were a little tight, even a pegasus was bigger than a bug. But she squeezed them on. “Is there anyone else who would? Someone who wouldn’t kill me?”

He shook his head once. “Not a unicorn. There’s a library in Canterlot with powerful magic like that—the Royal Archives. But it has tight security, and you need a signed note from a librarian explaining the book you need.”

He reached up, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “We could just try telling them the truth. I would tell them you saved my life—you might get to see the princess.”

Amie might’ve agreed—a few weeks ago, before Mr. Albrecht ordered a few members of his private army to hunt her down and bring back Wes at any cost. He probably hadn’t told them to attack her. And the ponies probably wouldn’t execute her as a prisoner of war, either.

She shook her head, pulled away from him. “Tell me a town. Somewhere big enough that I could vanish for a while. Can’t be so small everyone knows everyone, like Motherlode.”

“Agate is close,” he said. “Bigger than here. Royal Guard base is there. But it’s a proper town, ten thousand ponies and maybe a dozen guards. Lots of ponies coming and going.”

“Where?”

He explained, rattling out directions. They were less useful to her than he probably thought, since they described flying there, rather than walking down the mountain. But there were landmarks, and roads connecting towns to each other. She wouldn’t have to bivouac the entire way.

“Good luck, Tailslide,” She embraced him. “Got you here alive, just like I said. Now it’s up to you to stay that way—haven’t lost any of my boys yet.”

She turned for the door, then galloped out into the street. She could still hear his voice, but ignored what he was saying. That horse was on his own now.

The streets were packed with ponies, most of them sturdy-looking miners marching past her up the road towards the entrance to a large mine. Some carried equipment, or pushed heavy carts.

Many of them turned to stare at her, whispering confusion about who she was. “Royal Guard got here last night,” said one.

“I saw her. That’s a different pony,” said another.

Amie turned back down the hill and started walking as quickly as she could. The more people were walking around her, the easier it would be to blend into a crowd.

She could see the airship high above. Tailslide hadn’t been lying, there really was an honest-to-god zeppelin flying in. It was smaller than she expected, smaller than the one time she’d seen the Goodyear blimp. But the passenger area seemed bigger than it should be. Did they have other ways of keeping airships in the sky?

There was no time to worry about that. The further she got from her bunkhouse, the safer she felt. Except that everywhere she went, she was still a stranger. Ponies looked up from whatever they were doing, even though she was doing nothing more interesting than walking. Did Motherlode never get visitors?

“Excuse me,” she picked someone walking alone at random, pushing a heavy cart up the hill. “I heard there’s a farm in town. Can you give me directions?”

The pony in question was an older male, with a wrinkled face and a cart full of old lanterns. He stopped, squinting through thick glasses at her. Finally he gestured. “What does a young mare like you want with a farm?”

But she didn’t stop to listen, breaking into a trot in the direction he suggested.

There were just too few people here—every turn just brought her to more staring miners, on their way to work.

The airship didn’t have a place to land, at least not in the town itself. But as it dropped, Amie realized the huge metal tower near the peak was its destination. There’s a tether near the nose. It’s going to dock.

Amie continued down the mountain, following the directions she’d been given. Far enough that rough rock paths were replaced with sparse grasses, and the occasional stubby tree. Far enough that, at last, she found the farm.

There was no mistaking it—thanks to the heavy wooden fences attached to its sides. And much more importantly, thanks to the bright orange and yellow figure she saw tending to the animals.

Well, chickens anyway. The farm had no horses that she could see—thank God. What would Earth horses look like in a world of smaller, colorful, intelligent ponies?

There was no one around, though orange firelight flickered behind farmhouse windows. Hopefully they wouldn’t see her coming. “Wes!” she called, as she passed the building. She broke into a gallop, spreading both wings instinctively as she sprinted to the fence.

The poultry enclosure had thin metal mesh fences, rather than the tall wood slats that they could slip through. So there was little to obscure her vision.

He looked up, then set down the bucket of feed he’d been holding.

Wes was okay. She saw no signs of injury on him, either small or large. A dozen birds followed behind him in an obedient line, with a level of intelligence she’d never seen in a farm animal before. They even seemed to be listening to her.

“Wes,” she said again. “It’s me, Amie.” She stopped beside the fence, then dropped to one knee, breathing heavily from her long run.

Somewhere far above, metal rattled against metal, as the airship docked. She saw the flash of more gold armor. Two winged ponies hovered near the front in uniforms like the one Tailslide had been wearing the first night, guiding the ship into place.

His mouth fell open, staring at her. He glanced to her familiar saddlebags, then relaxed. “How did you do that? And… wait, why are you here? I’ve got a whole list of chores to do before I can visit you.”

Just like that he picked the bucket up in his mouth again, and continued all the way to a feeding tray. He dumped it there, spilling seed for the waiting birds.

Amie followed him along the fence. She was still breathing heavily, but recovering by the second. “I don’t have time… to explain,” she gasped. “Wes, we need to run now.” She pointed up at the airship with one wing. As she did, a group of four ponies emerged from inside, all armored, flying directly down for the town. They weren’t headed towards the farmhouse… yet.

“That’s a military ship. If those ponies find you, they will kill you. Do you understand?”

He dropped the empty bucket, eyes widening. His confusion shifted instantly to fear. Her little brother might be a little too friendly, a little too trusting. But he wasn’t stupid. “What do we do?”

“Anything you want to grab? And is it close?” He pointed down the road, to a tiny bunkhouse across the street. Very much like the one she had stayed in, except that it was smaller and more run-down. There was a window missing, and covered with heavy boards.

“You sure they’d… really do that?” he asked. “They gave me a job. The ponies here seem so nice.”

She nodded. Then she… lifted into the air. It wasn’t much—a brief arc, over the fence, landing beside him in the mud. She wasn’t sure how she did it, and it was over in an instant. Amie took one of his hooves in hers, then started tugging. “I can explain it all when we’re on the road. If I tell you now, we’ll be caught before I finish.”

“The farmers are gonna be so upset with me. At least I put in my two-weeks when I quit at McDonalds.” Wes sighed. “Sorry, chickens. Hopefully I’ll see you again one day.”

Chapter 18

For the second time in three days, Amie dragged her brother into the forest.

This time there was no rumble of a jeep following them across the campgrounds, or the shout of distant, angry voices. They weren’t running through the wilderness either, but had a gravel path to follow. So long as Amie kept Tailslide’s directions fresh in her mind, she could probably take them all the way to Agate without stopping.

Except, of course, for Wes.

Her brother lacked her endurance, and couldn’t keep running for long. “I gotta… I gotta catch my breath,” he said, after ten minutes or so. “Can we stop?”

She scanned the forest around them, before selecting a particularly dense copse of trees off to one side. She stepped off the gravel path, nodding for him to follow. “This way. I want to make sure we’re not visible from overhead. We should probably stick to the trees for the next few hours, anyway. Until that airship passes us by.”

She hadn’t seen any sign of it since they left Motherlode behind. Its soldiers were probably pouring over the town even now, searching for a changeling. A changeling they probably believed had killed one of their own.

The trees might not be enough cover, if they’re determined. The incredible healing “magic” of Equestria would be working against their escape. Instead of barely stabilized, Tailslide was practically healed already. There was no reason to rush him to a better hospital for a full recovery. Would they stay in Motherlode for days, combing the forest for her?

Guess that depends on Tailslide. Whatever he decides to tell them.

Her brother stopped beside a stream, then bent down like he was going to sip from it. “Hey!” She stopped him, offered her canteen instead. “We’re not drinking that unfiltered. If you get diarrhea, we’re screwed.”

He took the canteen instead, then turned it over, drinking rapidly. “It’s not fair,” he said. “Motherlode was safe. They accepted me. Why do they have to take it away?”

Of course she had no simple answer for him. It wasn’t fair. “I’ve learned a ton about the world we’re in, Wes. Most of it is bad for us.”

“Not all of it, though. You turned into a swan. That’s cool, even if you don’t really sound like my sister anymore. Well, you talk like Amie, but your voice is different. Lower, and less echoey.”

She rolled her eyes. “You mean more normal. It has me wondering, actually. Whether you can change, or if it’s only something the black bugs can do. You wanna try to copy me?”

He looked her up and down, then stuck his tongue out. “Turn into a girl? No thanks, Amie. Half of Stella Lacus already tells me I look gay. I’m not fueling the fire.”

She rested one hoof on his shoulder, gentle. “Wes… I don’t think we’re going back to Stella Lacus anytime soon. Not unless I can find a way to get everyone home. There’s—a little hope there! You wanna hear about it?”

“Sure.” He finished with the canteen, then passed it back. “Let’s go slower. You can tell me on the way. Everything you know. Then I’ll tell you if there’s anything I figured out that you didn’t.”

That was what they did. Despite Wes’s objections, they didn’t return to the road. It was too open to the sky, and might invite investigating ponies from above. Maybe they could risk it, if Wes ever figured out how to do what she could. But in the meantime, they needed to be able to hide. She looked up whenever there were openings in the trees, scanning the sky above for any sign of flying ponies.

They were easy to see—a glitter of gold up ahead, reflecting off their metal armor. That made them impossible to miss, even when they flew by at a great distance and didn’t linger. Her sense of emotions did not continue nearly as far as her sight, so she couldn’t feel to know if they were looking for her specifically. But what else could they be doing?

Whenever she saw them, Amie urged her brother into the darkest shadows, where she watched through the trees for the ponies to fade into the distance again.

And while they traveled, she told him everything. Wes was a little younger, but he wasn’t a baby. If she could trust anyone to share the burden with her, it was her brother. She started with the fight, Garcia’s death, and the pony attackers. Then the hours she spent working through the night, stopping Tailslide from bleeding out on the riverbank.

Everything that had happened in Motherlode, except perhaps for anything she might’ve felt towards the stranger, or the infatuation she felt from him. That was probably just misjudging her emotional senses, anyway. She’d been at camp for too long, that was all.

“Then we made it out,” she finished lamely. It took about an hour to recite everything, with ample stops for questions. It wasn’t like they had anything else to talk about.

“Do you think you should’ve gone with him,” Wes asked. “He said Equestria might listen to you. You might talk to their president, get to argue the case for Stella Lacus.”

She sighed. “If Garcia hadn’t killed one of their guards, I might’ve done it. But even if they were just defending themselves, that means everyone who captures me is going to want revenge. They lost a friend, and I would be a convenient target. If they kill me, I can’t keep an eye on you.”

She reached for him, running one hoof through his weird fins.

“Quit it!” He shoved her away. “You shouldn’t be taller than me. That copy thing you did is unfair.”

She grinned stupidly back at him. “Why don’t you try, then? I don’t know… I don’t know if you can. But I know you don’t have to look like an exact copy of anyone. The first time I was. After that, I was only sorta kinda copies. This pony looks a little like the pegasus guard I was with, but not a guy. I did this unicorn too—”

She could remember the sensation, now that she’d experienced it three times. There was an element of instinct to it, but most of it was conscious. It was all in the visualization, if somehow she could capture that exactly right.

“Do you think we should go back to camp?” Wes finally asked. “Seems like this place really doesn’t want us wandering around. If we’re not welcome anyway, we could—let Mr. Albrecht have me.”

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “Even if Garcia hadn’t tried to kill me, I wouldn’t take you back there. But with what happened, it would be completely insane. I saw the messages, they think we’re holding Garcia hostage. They might not even believe what we tell them about Equestria.”

Amie set her jaw, staring down the mountain ahead of them. It was late afternoon now. Hopefully the lengthening shadows would help protect them from being seen.

“You think there’s really a way to send us back?”

That took her a minute. She wanted to lie without thinking—but this was Wes, not one of her kids. There was no chance of angering a frightened, frustrated mob. “I would say no before we got here. Other worlds don’t exist, obviously. Except—this one does. So I think… I think it might be possible. Magic is real, here.” She spread her feathery wings to either side, then flapped them. She didn’t lift into the air this time, though she did feel a little lighter. Something she could work on.

He nodded. “So we’re not going back to Stella Lacus. What do we do instead?”

“Step one, we hopefully figure out how to hide you,” she said. “It’s a few days to Agate on foot, so that should give us plenty of time. Camping together, brother and sister. Lots of time to practice!” She grinned. He returned the smile, albeit much weaker.

“Let’s say that goes perfect. I’m magic too, awesome. Now what?”

“We change how we look, and make it to Agate,” she said. “From what I can tell, this place works a lot like home. We’ll need jobs, or at least I will. That should help us keep from getting discovered. We save up a little money. While that happens, I’ll ask around about magic with the librarian.”

“Or… I could do that,” Wes suggested. He spread both wings, looking away from her. “Don't take this the wrong way! You’re smart, Amie. But you’re not technical. There are two of us, I say we divide and conquer.”

Anything that took the load off her own shoulders would make things easier in Agate. She nodded weakly. “What are you suggesting?”

“If I can change, let me be the one who worries about research. I can act like a… student, or whatever. Meanwhile, you can be focused on keeping us hidden, and making sure we have someplace to stay. You’re good with people, so you figure out how to be convincing… ponies. If I’m never that good, I don’t think anyone will notice. Nobody expects smart people to be easy to talk to.”

It would give her a little less to worry about. Amie patted him on the shoulder this time. “Good plan. At some point, we’ll need enough money to travel to the capital of this country, Canterlot. Tailslide thought the secrets we were looking for were hiding in their version of the Library of Congress. We might need to break in at some point. But if that’s true, we’re already perfectly equipped!”

She hopped up onto a nearby stump, posing dramatically. “They call us changelings. We’ll be the perfect sneaky spies.”

“Maybe just one changeling,” he replied. “The Motherlode people saw me, and they didn’t think I was a changeling. I might not have the same powers as you. I have to eat real food, instead of emotions.”

“We don’t know that,” she argued. “No one else had emotions to eat but me. I must’ve got it from you, while my feelings aren’t… good enough for you to eat in return. We’ll have to see how you are around ponies. They might be able to keep you fed.”

He shuddered. “No. Thanks. I’d rather eat grass and bugs than feelings, if I have to. We’re horse shaped, so… it should work out. Speaking of grass, can I have another granola bar?”

She sighed. “We’re… out of those. I’ve got some beef jerky though, here.”

They continued in high spirits until nightfall. When darkness came, Amie found her vision no longer the equal of her brother, and they had to stop for the night. Eventually she would figure out how to change at will, and she could just swap into something convenient for night, then back again when they needed to be around ponies.

For now, she actually pitched their tent, and they made a real camp. Sans the fire of course—with a group of unknown size still hunting them, there was no reason to signal their exact location from the sky. Amie still hadn’t heard the zeppelin flying back to Agate. That meant the search party might still be close.

While her brother slept, Amie set up the little satellite dish again, pointing it back towards Stella Lacus. It took longer this time, but eventually the intranet loaded.

The newsletter was hardly encouraging. “Two dead by Stella Lacus’s first murderer, Amie Blythe,” it said. She didn’t want to read the rest, but was powerless to resist her curiosity. She should’ve tried.

The page was nothing but lies, describing a fanciful tale of “survivor” testimony from a “trusted anonymous source.” There were no images attached, no proof. Just straight bullshit about a battle in a cave, culminating in her dramatic murder of Garcia and the other thug. It even mentioned the accident that had claimed the life of another brave soldier, who slipped and fell during the tense battle.

“Amie is extremely dangerous. We do not know what has caused her to become homicidal, but we know this: no one in Stella Lacus is safe.”

She would probably be out of range of the intranet soon. Unless Wes knew how to build a booster—and Stella Lacus kept improving their own transmission power. She should switch off the phone and not look back.

Amie should not have risen to it—but she couldn’t help herself. She flipped through her contacts, settling on the camp director’s private address. “I didn’t kill them, asshole,” she sent. “But I don’t care what you say about me, I’ll save you even if you’re kicking and screaming.”

Chapter 19

Amie did not expect a response from camp. Her brother slept, and she couldn’t, so what more was there to do but drain her battery while poking at the intranet. She knew better than to expect it to keep working much past line-of-sight to the mountain. Once she reached Agate, she would have to come back this way every time she wanted to send messages to her kids.

If the mountain didn’t have guards, I might try to get them out. But we can’t all feed on the emotions of one bug, or they wouldn’t be starving in camp.

For Stella Lacus to survive long enough for Amie to get the princess’s help, they would need something to eat. Meat was sustaining them, but how long would that last? How many fish could they pull out of the river, or small animals out of traps, until they eventually ran dry?

Amie did more than worry that night. She practiced her magic again. The specifics of changing were still hazy to her, but she wouldn’t need a perfect mastery to make it useful. If she could change into a different random pony, someone who wouldn’t raise suspicion or seem familiar when she walked into Agate, that would be enough.

What to do with Wes still nagged at her of course—he didn’t look like the changelings of Stella Lacus, but that didn’t make him a pony. Would Agate respond as well as Motherlode had?

Amie didn’t manage to take any other shape during her hours of practice—but as she neared the edge of her mental energy, she did manage a breakthrough. After what felt like hours of intense effort, she settled to the cave floor, letting herself relax. In that relaxed state, more than her muscles changed. The fur vanished, her body shrinking back into the more familiar—more appalling shape.

She could still make herself into a bug, then. But she already knew that her original form was there underneath, she'd already learned that in Motherlode.

She paced nervously back and forth just outside the cavern entrance, keeping her nervous energy as subdued as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up her brother, when they had another hard day of hiking ahead.

It wasn't an accident! Both of the last times she had changed, Amie had not so much intended her new form as it was the instinctive response to stress. The same as an octopus might recolor its skin to look like a rock when a predator swam by, or a chameleon might try to imitate its leafy green surroundings.

I can control it. This revelation was so interesting to her that she nearly missed the flashing notification LED waiting on her phone. She stopped as she walked past the little satellite dish, eyes catching on the steady red light of an unread message.

She levitated the phone up into the air, finding that particular gesture was already becoming second-nature to her. Easier than changing by far, and less draining. She couldn't use a touchscreen by magic, though—just because it felt like fingers didn't mean she really had them.

One stylus later and the message opened. There was no name on the contact, just a title. "CAMP DIRECTOR"

Albrecht himself had got her message—and he had replied.

"If you didn't kill those men, Amie, who did?"

She was probably wasting her time. This was the same man willing to experiment on her brother in the name of saving Stella Lacus. The same one who had sent three of the worst people in camp to bring her in. She would resist telling him they were better off without evil thugs working for him.

"The natives have a military perimeter around Stella Lacus's mountain. I ran with my brother, and we crossed it. Two Royal Guards arrived, killed your thugs, but were too injured to finish me off. Wes and I escaped during the chaos."

None of that was untrue, exactly. Even so, no reason to volunteer to Albrecht that she had saved the same stallion who had killed one of the camp's people. That same man had tried to kill her—she had no tears to shed for him now.

It was wrong to think of the old man as some ancient, stubborn luddite. He might not fully understand the intranet—but he knew how to use it. His response came in only a few seconds. She could imagine him calling in a camp meeting, demanding that the technical people figure out a way to track her.

Joke was on them. A whole Equestrian warship sat between Stella Lacus and Amie now.

"Why should I believe this fanciful story?"

She sent links to the photos she had already sent her boys. There was no way she'd get an image across at this distance, when her words already took minutes to send. But the photos were already uploaded.

"Because I have no reason to lie to you. Wes and I are continuing on to another native settlement. You can't reach us here."

There was a longer delay after that message. Amie checked to make sure her GPS was off, for all the good it would do. So far as she knew, no one had ever received a GPS signal here.

"Why bother sending any message?" came the eventual reply. "You've abandoned Stella Lacus to our fate. Run away then."

She should've just let that message lie. If only Amie really had abandoned everyone, she might be able to do that. But her kids were still back there, and this man was their only chance at survival. It might take months for her to reach the ones who could help, and somehow convince them into lending their support.

"Because I want you to live long enough for me to get help back. I know things you need to know. The reason we think food is rotten is we feed on emotions—positive emotions, I think. But not our own, only the aliens who live here. We're parasites."

She typed everything else she'd learned during her brief trip, about where she thought the guarded boundaries were, what she'd learned about Equestria, and the range of changeling powers. She gave it all, except the detail about saving Tailslide, and the direction and town she intended to live in.

It was probably more than she should give. It was more than Albrecht deserved, after turning on her brother. She told him anyway. If there was anyone with the determination to save the kids of Stella Lacus now, it was him.

By the time her last message finished sending, the sun was just beginning to rise in the east. Birds flitted around her, and she heard her brother shifting in his sleeping bag. He would be up soon, and time to resume their trek.

Another string of messages was waiting for her from Rick, and another few from Marcus. She didn't quite have the time to read those now, so she put them aside for later.

"What are you doing, Amie?" Wes asked, finally emerging from the cave. "I finished packing everything up how you asked. Do you think it's a good idea for you to look like that today?"

"No," she admitted. "But I've made myself look like a bug fewer times than I've made myself look like other things. I'll figure it out before we get to Agate."

Her brother stopped beside her, eyeing the satellite. "Talking to the hunters?"

"Should've been, probably. At least they would listen to me." She took one last look at the screen, and found nothing new. She started breaking it down. With her levitation, it took very little time at all to fold the dish and tripod, then disconnect all the cables.

Their battery backup was already flashing red by the time she switched it off and tucked it away. So that was one more problem for her to solve, somehow.

She felt a little better once they set off together. She always felt better once she was moving. At least that way she could feel like she was making progress towards a solution. Wes seemed in better spirits too, with the disaster of their initial escape from Stella Lacus now fading into memory.

She could only be grateful he hadn't seen the fight on the riverbank, knowing full well just how badly that would probably scar him. Wes was too gentle and vulnerable to see such brutality without leaving permanent marks.

They descended the mountainside, without any sign of other occupants. There was a trail, one Amie checked every few minutes to make sure they were still on track. But they rarely walked on it directly, not when there were flying ponies that might see them from the sky.

"Maybe it's a good thing you changed back," Wes said, around lunchtime. "We can't walk into that new pony town with you looking that way, right? You can coach me about how you're changing while you do it."

She wrinkled her nose as he said it, tilting her head to one side. "You make it sound like something I should be able to explain. But it was so spontaneous. The first time I touched blood, when I was looking down at a dead pony. That one's off the table. The second..."

She had spent the night trying to do it last time. Focusing on her hair... "There's a state of mind you need to make it work. It's a lot like making things float, actually. There's power inside, waiting for you to take it. I was trying to change the color of my hair, and—"

And she imagined how life would've been different if it wasn't ruined. She imagined arriving in Motherlode and working as a nurse, the same way she wanted to do back on Earth. She imagined what it would look like to be that pony, what it would feel like.

She remembered it now. Shorter than Tailslide, with a leaner build, a pale coat, and a first-aid-kit for her cutie mark.

She felt the power leave her just as it had the night before. Some of that was voluntary—but most of it just felt like a reflex. Green surrounded her, then dropped her back on the trail. Suddenly she was taller than her brother, with the straps of her makeshift saddlebag now struggling to cling to her.

Wes gaped. He stared, taking several minutes to finally say anything. “Someone else. Do you sound different that way too?" He nudged her shoulder with one hoof, touching the soft pony coat there.

"Yeah," she answered. "I think so. There's a bit of an accent. Not sure where it came from. I think I just imagined her coming from a wealthier background. Probably grew up with tons of money, her parents funded her way through school."

"You... invented a character," Wes finished for her. "That's... amazing! That's the best superpower ever!"

"Don't get that excited." At least this fake medical pony still had a horn she could use. Amie adjusted the pack, loosening it with levitation. She felt a little stiff without wings to express her emotions, though. "We're still ugly parasites who need emotions to live."

He rolled his eyes. "But Amie, you can change. You can look like a horse, right? So why couldn't you look like other things? Why not look like a person?"

Could she? The possibility would haunt her until she tried it now, taunting her with a return to life that she deserved. But Amie resisted the temptation for now. Looking human would make her feel better, but it would not solve any of the problems she faced.

"I'll get some more practice before I try that," she said. "I don't know how much power this takes, or how much I can spare. You should try!"

He backed away from her. "Okay. But if it works, you don't tell any of the hunters, okay?"

She nodded. She would count herself lucky if she ever got to speak to them again, much less about Wes's first experiments with new magic. "It's just like your first time learning any new skill. It's okay if you fall over riding a bike."

Wes closed his eyes—then grunted, shaking his head in defeat. "Almost thought I had it."

"You'll get there." She patted his shoulder, then set off again. "Keep trying on the way. If you can get it before we get to Agate, things will be much easier."

Amie had figured out how to transform with only a few days of practice! How much harder could it be?

Chapter 20

Amie's hopes for Wes's magic were dashed, however. In the next day of hiking they had plenty of chances to stop, plenty more practice for her brother.

He had plenty of headaches, plenty of annoyed outbursts for her pressuring him. But of actual transformations, he had no luck. By the second night, he shoved her off, radiating frustration. "That's it! Amie, I don't think I can! Your powers and mine might not be the same. We don't know if I'm even the same kinda bug as you!"

There was no need to ask if he was giving the task the effort it deserved—Amie could feel his frustration, and knew full well how much of that was for himself.

She put up her hooves, and backed off. "Alright, Wes. I'll stop. It just raises some questions about what we'll do when we get to Agate."

"Same thing I did in Motherlode," he said. "Just tell them I'm not a changeling, and I want a job. I think you're stressed about nothing, sis. The locals are nice, you'll see."

She didn't have to wait very long to find that out. They spent a night in her tent, ate the last of her trail rations—and before lunch came, Agate finally came into view.

It was much as Tailslide had said, a town that spanned some distance and had reshaped the valley to hold it. Instead of single-story miner's huts, Agate began with farmhouses over sprawling fields, before concentrating into a busy downtown of multi-story buildings and paved roads.

"What do you see?" Wes asked, leaning sideways to squint at her phone screen. She held it in her levitation, using the best of the digital zoom on her camera to glimpse the distant town through the trees.

"Looks big—about the size of Fairview." She turned the screen towards him for him to look over.

Wes squinted at it. "No cars. No tractors on the fields either. Ponies must pull it all themselves. What year is it?"

Amie switched the phone back off, pocketing it. "I don't know if it works that way. They have magic, so they might not need things we do."

Wes shrugged. "Guess that makes sense. So it's the same plan as before? We go in, I try to become a student, and you earn us money? I find out everything I can about magic from other worlds."

She nodded, and they set off again. This time, directly onto one of the gravel roads leading into town. Ponies would see them before long, but there was no way around it. She still wore the same body she'd practiced a few days before, the medical unicorn.

Hopefully this town needed nurses as much as the last one had.

"We probably won't find what we need here, even if they have a library. We'll need to go to their capital for their Library of Congress. But before we can, we need someone to sign off on us. Either that, or we let ourselves in. Not... a great way to make friends, if we plan on asking their president for help."

They made it past the first farmhouse, and no soldiers came rushing out from inside. They walked past some fields of familiar crops—wheat and corn, growing on craggy soil.

By the time they reached a little footbridge over a river, they met their first other ponies on the road. Farmers too by the look of them, pulling carts of produce along the trail into town.

One stopped dead to stare at Wes as they walked. The other pretended not to notice, and just kept wheeling his cart of apples along.

"Good afternoon!" Amie said, walking up beside him. "What kind of apples are those?"

The pony looked her over, then his eyes flicked to Wes, and whatever positive emotions he'd been feeling vanished. But neither had escalated to panic yet. Was this the reaction Wes had elicited back in Motherlode?"

"Red Delicious," he said flatly, not meeting her eyes. "Did you come down from Motherlode, stranger? You've got... some unusual company."

She grinned, ignoring that oppressive wave of negative emotions radiating from him. A normal pony shouldn't be able to feel any of that, after all. "Yeah. This is my... friend. I know he looks strange, but..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He has a birth defect. Doesn't grow fur, as you can see. He just gets so shy when I talk about it."

Wes chose that second to glower at her. Up close with genuine ponies, there was no mistaking the two of them for alike. Those insect eyes, clear wings, and shiny body had so little in common.

It seemed the ponies were thinking something similar, because the farmer sped up, muttering something Amie couldn't hear as he rolled over the bridge into town. The other remained stubbornly in place, as though he'd become fascinated by a rock on the side of the road.

Amie thought better of confronting him too, just continued straight into town with Wes beside her. She walked a little closer to him, puffing out her chest. She boiled with anger, feeling her protective instincts surging all over again. Would she have to fight her way through the city with Wes?

She banished the thought as soon as she had it, silently cursing herself for the absurdity of it. She had her shotgun tucked away, but what good would that do her? These were frightened ponies, not more thugs waiting to capture them.

I can't let Albrecht traumatize me. We got out of camp, we left it behind. They can't get us here.

"Is this what happened in Motherlode?" she asked instead, keeping her voice low. "When you went in on your own?"

"Kinda." Wes's ears dropped, his eyes focused on the ground. She didn't need emotional magic to read the pain there. Wes felt the way ponies were responding to him, and it hurt. "Similar I guess. Then I met that nice farmer, and she gave me a job! She wasn't so bad. I think they're just scared is all. They wouldn't be if they took the time to get to know me."

It hurt almost as much to hear him say it as it did to watch the ponies recoil and retreat from him. Her brother had done little more than walk straight into town, and they backed away from the path like he was a leper ringing a bell about how unclean he was.

"You don't have to say it," he whispered, just as quiet. "I should've practiced more on the way in. This is my fault."

She touched his side with one hoof. "It's not your fault, Wes. It's nobody's fault ponies are so afraid of you. Except maybe whoever invaded Canterlot. If I ever meet the assholes who got our whole species branded dangerous monsters..." But she couldn't finish that thought, not with so many ponies watching them.

They passed into Agate proper, and the handful of ponies moving down the road became a flood of traffic coming and going in all directions. The scope of the settlement compared to Motherlode soon came into full focus—where that town had a few dozen homes at most, Amie saw hundreds here, stretching off in both directions as far as she could see. Here was a city big enough to get lost in, where they could vanish into a crowd and never be seen again.

Except for Wes. They formed an island in the flow of traffic, parting ponies on either side as soon as they got close enough to see him. There was no screaming, no shouts for the guard—just quiet, pervasive avoidance. Maybe this is good enough. If nobody hates him, they might be willing to get to know him.

Wes stopped in the center of the road, glancing weakly to either side. He looked almost as pained and helpless as he had during their flight from Stella Lacus. "What do we do now?"

She stopped beside him, blocking him off from as much of the city as she could. This was like Stella Lacus in more than one way—Wes was only here because of her insistence. She decided he needed to run from Motherlode, just like she wanted him to join her at Adventure Camp this summer. How was she going to get him out of it?

"You," someone said, emerging from the crowd and walking directly up to them. They were an earth pony stallion, over a full head taller than Amie and probably twice her size. He wore a heavy satchel made of a leathery material, which clanked faintly as he walked. On his head there was a miner's cap, complete with an old-fashioned carbide lantern.

"You two look lost." His eyes flicked to Wes, but quickly returned to her. But she felt none of the fear from him that radiated from the rest of these ponies. There was only a faint echo of curiosity, barely even detectable to her changeling senses. "Where are you headed?"

Amie considered that. "Just moved in," she said. "Was going to check with the clinics in town, see if anyone will hire me."

Their conversation drew more curious looks from the ponies flowing around them. Did she really stand out that much? She could see her own warped reflection in this miner's cap, and she still had fur. She hadn't changed back into herself without realizing.

"Interesting. You know, I might know a place." He extended one hoof towards her, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Or his emotions, for that matter. "I'm True Probe. What's your name?"

Amie had a few days to think over something the natives would accept. "Healing Touch?" She said it almost like a question. "Yeah! Nice to meet you! And this is my friend—"

"Wes," he said flatly. So much for their conversation about pony name conventions.

True Probe didn't seem to mind. He met Amie's hoof for a brief shake, then didn't even bother to do the same for Wes, just turned off towards a side street and waved for them to follow. Amie had little choice but to obey.

She felt no hostility from the pony—and she would, wouldn't she? They couldn't be led away to get themselves hurt in broad daylight, surrounded by hundreds of witnesses. Some savior for Stella Lacus she would turn out to be, escaping the military only to get a knife in her gut in the first town she came to.

As they walked, it didn't seem like Probe was leading them to some shady part of town to get her attacked. Agate looked friendly and welcoming no matter what part of it they visited—the buildings were all bright colors, the ponies all spoke with friendship, and there were no broken windows or signs of graffiti.

"I have mostly medical experience," she said, forcing a confidence she didn't really feel. "But I've spent years as a camp counselor. Done Scouts and Venturing too. So if there's anything outdoorsy, I could probably do that too."

True Probe glanced over his shoulder at them to make sure they were still following. Amie didn't watch him too closely in return—she couldn't, not without being reminded of the persistently embarrassing local nudity. How long would it take her to get used to that?

"Wouldn't be right to tell you out here. But it's a good offer—better than anything you'll find in Equestria, I think." He led them through what was obviously the industrial quarter of Agate, past factories of plain brick with smokestacks rising into the sky beside busy railyards. Carts of metal ore came down, and ingots or simple cast goods came out. Most of the ponies here resembled their guide—stout earth ponies with unshorn fetlocks and no-nonsense expressions. Ponies that could snap Amie in half if they got too close to her.

Wes nudged her shoulder, stealing one meaningful look at their guide. The question was obvious even if he didn't use words to ask it: was she sure about this?

Amie could only shrug in response, not trusting even a whisper not to be overheard. She flicked her tail at her saddlebags, and the lumpy shotgun bulging out from within. None of the natives had remarked about it though, nor had she seen anything like a firearm during her brief walk through the city.

Finally True Probe took them to a warehouse, not unlike many others along the rail side. "We can talk in here," he said, fumbling with a set of keys. He had to open the door with his mouth, so could say nothing while they watched. But he still managed to get it open, shoving the door gently aside.

The interior was well-lit, but mostly empty except for a set of heavy wooden crates. Amie couldn't sense anyone lurking inside.

True Probe led them inside, then kicked the door shut behind them. A mechanical bolt slid closed as the door clicked into place, securing it from being opened from without.

"I do not know what you are, or what you think you're doing in Agate," he said, facing them from the doorway. There was a brief, blinding flash of light—and the earth pony vanished. A changeling stood where he had, now nearly Amie's exact height.

He carried no weapon, but his horn glowed with a faint, orange light. "But you are going to tell me, now."

Chapter 21

Amie stared, transfixed by the changeling before her. He was familiar enough to recognize as a member of her own species—but not identical to the campers of Stella Lacus. His fins were bright orange instead of green, a color matched by his eyes and the faint glow of his magic.

Even stranger, his forelegs were covered with... tattoos? There was no other way to describe them—marks set into his shiny coat, lines of ink that left faint indents in the carapace. White lines twisted and swirled together in a vaguely tribal design.

Amie didn't get a good chance to inspect them, because the changeling advanced on her, baring sharp fangs. "Show your face," he demanded. "Your disguise is feeble; there was not even a flicker of true fear. You are no pony."

Maybe not from her. Wes retreated behind her, until he backed into one of the rough wooden crates. He didn't say anything, just watched Amie desperately.

Amie took a deep breath, closed her eyes—and tried to relax. But she wasn't alone in a secluded cave with her brother this time—she was staring down an unknown creature, one that might be a blood enemy, or a desperately needed ally.

After a few seconds she opened them again, sighing with exasperation. "I'm not trying to lie to you—but I can't change as easily as you. I've only had a few days to learn."

His horn stopped glowing, and his posture relaxed. "What tribe sent hunters with such little experience? How desperate is your queen?" He turned, fixing Wes with a withering glare. "If you think this act will elicit sympathy from Equestrians, you are wrong. Your invention is too similar to your true shape, cousin. They fear you. More importantly—"

He leapt through the air in a wide arc, so high that Amie was left staring. He landed atop the crate beside Wes, baring his teeth again.

"What were you thinking, striding brazenly into a hunting ground with the guise of some twisted wolf? They have royal guards watching this place. Did you come here to die, and make hunting harder for the rest of us? I could do it so much gentler than they would."

Wes whimpered, slumping to his haunches. His wings opened and closed several times, but he didn't manage anything like a coherent response. "Not... not trying to... can't—" He looked desperately towards Amie, pleading.

She wasn't sure how she did it—maybe it was the spontaneity, maybe it was Wes's overwhelming fear. Amie's pony form vanished, and she darted between Wes and the stranger. That brought her back to being the smallest creature in the room—but this was also the body she knew best. She crouched low, levitating the shotgun out from her satchel and directly in the orange changeling's face. "Don't threaten my brother again, asshole."

The bug glanced between them. She watched tension ripple through his body, and prepared to turn into a murderer—but then he relaxed. His eyes grew wide, and he slumped onto his haunches, baffled. "That one loves you. How is this possible?"

Amie lowered the weapon, pointing it away from him. "He's my brother. I love him too. Do families not care for each other where you come from?"

Wes nodded sympathetically. "We don't want to fight you, or anyone else. We're just trying to get away from people trying to kill us, that's all."

The changeling hopped down from his place atop a crate. "Whatever that is, you can put it away, cousin. There will be no violence here." She felt his hostility boil away, replaced with something even stranger. Something she had never felt from another creature, not since her arrival in Equestria.

Awe, almost religious reverence—for her brother.

"I can see I've found what I was sent for. You haven't come from the invaders' tribe." His wings buzzed with excitement—and he lifted up into the air, flying straight up to the rafters. He returned after a few seconds, levitating a tightly-folded sheet of paper in front of him.

He dropped it to the floor at their hooves, expanding it out in all directions. It was a map, but what it depicted was only vaguely familiar to Amie. She imagined she could make out the suggestion of North America along the edges, but either the level of detail was too low to be precise, or her own memory of geography was faulty.

"The Elders sent me to hunt here, by vision." He pointed down at the map with one hoof, at a cluster of mountains marked with a few familiar names. Motherlode and Agate were both there, inside a circled region in bright orange.

"The 'Elders,'" Amie repeated, voice flat. There was no telling what he meant by “vision.” She was equally split between a local religious practice, or actual magic yet unknown to her. The rules didn't exactly make themselves very clear.

Wes squeezed in on the other side of the map, taking it all in. But he said nothing, still radiating fear of this new changeling.

"Is there another tribe in these mountains?"

Amie hesitated—but trying to lie was a doomed effort when they could read each other's feelings. Her hesitation alone would be enough to infer the correct answer. "We wouldn't call ourselves that, but yes. In this... valley here, between Motherlode and its next peak. There isn't a valley anymore."

The changeling nodded to himself, satisfied. "This is the clear answer. A new tribe—green. With strange powers." He looked over at Wes again. "How many like him are there?"

"Just me," Wes said, his voice utterly defeated. "Completely alone. Ready to be kidnapped and dissected wherever I go."

Amie pushed him back with one hoof, stepping between this changeling and her brother again. "There's no reason for us to answer your questions. Why should we trust you?"

He frowned, looking between them. Then he reached down, removing something from the clinking satchel he'd been wearing. A little glass bottle, of the same kind that had once stored chemicals. It was filled with a brilliantly glowing liquid, like the contents of an orange glow-stick had been poured directly inside.

"Take this glamor," he said. "And my name. Pachu'a. I was sent to gather information, not make war."

Amie took the bottle in her own levitation, floating it close to her. The light had a mesmerizing, magnetic quality about it. Without knowing why, she felt drawn to it. What would it taste like?

She resisted the urge to try it while he was watching, and tucked it away in her saddlebags. "My real name is Amie Blythe. My brother is still Wes Blythe. He wasn't very good at lying."

Wes rolled his eyes. "You say that like it's bad. I don't like lying."

There was something faintly familiar about a name like “Pachu'a,” something that she could only hear faintly over his accent. It wasn't something that "True Probe" had possessed, but it was persistent in the changeling's own speech. What was it exactly she was hearing?

"This is good. True words exchanged between..." He eyed them, and spoke with a little strain. "Hunters. Now, this next question—it may seem strange, but it is important. Do you remember any other world?"

"Yes!" they exclaimed, at exactly the same moment. Amie continued. "You mean Earth? All we want to—all anyone wants to do—is get back there." She lifted one leg, holes and all. "Okay, and not do it looking like this. Our world doesn't need another freakshow."

Pachu'a settled down onto his haunches again. His awe returned, though it was mixed now with something a little more familiar. Anticipation? He saw an opportunity here, somehow. "You remember it?" he asked. "Your queen didn't tell you stories of it—you experienced it yourselves?"

They both nodded. "Everyone in Stella Lacus did. We've been here less than a month. Our camp is... pretty well supplied, I guess. It could keep us safe through winter, but it doesn't have food. Before I—took my brother away, I led the hunters there. We fished, we caught small game with traps and snares. Never got anything as big as a deer, but I did kill a wolf once."

"Hunters," he said. "Your tribe is already starving so badly you hunt meat?" At her nod, he rose, and began to pace rapidly back and forth. "Your ancestors must be watching out for you, Amie—that you met me, and not one of the invaders of blue. Their queen would not see the value in new wisdom from the ancient homeland. But the people of the cliffs—we are different."

Now it was Amie's turn to feel something new since her time in Equestria—hope. There were other changelings out there, humans from the same place. They were modern enough to speak the same language, even if Pachu'a overflowed with cultural signifiers she didn't recognize. Parasites in a world that hated them could not afford to be choosy with their allies.

"Do you know a better way to feed them?" She glanced nervously around, though of course they were alone in the drafty warehouse. "The mountain is guarded. The Equestrians already know we're up there, and they have royal guards patrolling the edges. They killed a few bugs trying to escape."

"That will make things... more complicated," he admitted. "But not much. The Equestrians are blinded by their preconceptions. When they see us, they see painful memories of their invaders—ferocious, mad with hunger, predatory. If they see you eating meat, they have no reason to believe you will be otherwise. But we need not be. A swift falcon in the air, a deer loping through the trees, or a sly fox clambering over hill and branch. There are many forms to wear."

He began folding the map, before tucking it away with his glowing bottles. "There can be no future under the watchful eyes of our prey. They will never give you the freedom to expand and freely harvest. But that question is for your own tribe to answer, in its own time. For now—I must return to the cliffs, and speak with the Elders. They should approve a relief caravan—and negotiations for trade, if you think your tribe would be amenable."

"I don't think our tribe has any choice," Amie admitted. "Should we go with you? I had my own plan... but it seems so unimportant now. Your tribe must know so much more about living in Equestria... you could shortcut all the painful research and just tell us. Have you tried asking the princess to send you back to Earth? Have you come up with any of your own magic? I talked to a royal guard, and he seemed to think there was a way."

He cut her off with one hoof. "I am the wrong one to ask. I am a hunter, not a scholar. As for returning with me—you could. Your brother is not a changeling, though. Whatever he is—I could not violate the oaths of protection that shelter the cliffs. The Elders would need to decide on his case."

Amie took one, deliberate step towards Wes. "Then we're staying. I won't leave him."

He shrugged. "That may be for the best. Your brother is something... unique, more than the arrival of a new tribe. What he implies, I do not know. Great and terrible things. A future without hunting—I don't know."

There was another flash of light, and the towering earth pony returned. True Probe took a moment to adjust the satchel for his much-larger size, before grinning back at them. "It would be wise to be more discreet while you await my return. There are other hunters moving in Equestria. And if the prey find you, they will treat you like their invaders. You have already seen this."

"You're just gonna leave?" Wes asked, exasperated. "You only talked to us for a few minutes! We have millions of questions, and nobody could answer them until now! Can't you, like—stay here and explain what's going on? Or just tell us how to get everyone home?"

The earth pony stopped in front of the door, then turned back. He rested one hoof on Wes's shoulder, fixing him with a longsuffering, parental expression. "Cousin—this is your home now. Our ancient homeland is beyond your reach. Make your life here worth living."

Chapter 22

They were still in the warehouse. Amie had the keys now, left by the hunter from another changeling tribe. This building was apparently a supply-dump for others like him, but she didn't know too many details. She knew almost nothing about the other changelings, because he hadn't stayed to tell them.

Only what she could pick up from the subtle signs he radiated, and the tidbits he had shared. When he left, it was with a single instruction. "Wait until after dark before you leave. Anyone who watched to see your brother arrive here will have moved on by then. Use the cover of darkness to find shelter."

What shelter that would take, Amie didn't know. For all the new information she'd received, Amie couldn't assemble any of it into a useful plan. "They think we're stuck here," Wes said, settling down against an empty box. "They could be right, Amie. They stayed. If they could go, wouldn't they?"

Amie would have, along with everyone in Stella Lacus. "Maybe they just never tried talking to Equestria directly," she said. "We don't know it's impossible. What we learned here was that there are more like us—other humans, brought here before."

"If we can get them trading food with Stella Lacus, you won't have to worry about your friends anymore, right? Maybe that will keep the camp from starving long enough to work something out with the Equestrian princess."

She nodded absently. She hadn't felt hostility or betrayal from Pachu'a. But she knew better than to think her own instincts could be proof of his honesty. Was I wrong to tell him about camp? He already knew we were here, something about a vision from his Elders. Another kind of magic we don't know?

"I think we... don't change our original plan," Amie finally said. "Maybe Pachu'a was telling the truth—maybe we're stuck, and there's no way to ever go home. Maybe we have to build something here in Equestria. But if that's true, it won't be the two of us building it. Stella Lacus won't let us come back. The best we can do for them now is to be eyes on the outside—sending back information, and maybe negotiating with Equestria if it seems like they'll listen."

Wes nudged her foreleg. "Which means we still need a job. We still need somewhere to hide. Somehow I have to figure out how to... do something impossible. Just magically change into something else! How hard can that be?"

Easy enough that experienced hunters don't even have to be ponies. Further proof that a return to her human form should be possible, if she pushed hard enough. But then again, if the local changelings had come from Earth, why hadn't Pachu'a made himself human? Showing her true face as a changeling was clearly an important step in negotiations for him.

"You want me to coach you through it again?"

Wes shook his head again, frustrated. "Why don't you just sneak out on your own? I'll put some of these old coats together, try to hide how hideous I am. You can come back here and get me once you have somewhere for us to go."

He hesitated, then touched his stomach with one leg. "And maybe—something to eat?"

She nodded. Separating would mean risk, but how could she work out a job for herself if everyone they met was terrified of Wes? "Sure, that's a good idea. I'll leave my stuff here." She set the saddlebag down over a rough wooden crate, then lifted the shotgun out from inside. "Keep this handy. If you have to defend yourself, use it."

Wes rolled his eyes. "From ponies? I don't think I'll need it. They all hate me."

She hugged him. "They hate me too, Wes. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

He returned the hug, clinging awkwardly to her. "I know. But that doesn't make it hurt less." She held him for a few moments more, one last bastion against a hateful world outside.

"We might not have to hide forever," she eventually said. "Pachu'a comes from another civilization. Even if we are stuck, we might be able to live with our own kind one day. Others who won't think we're horrible monsters."

Wes sniffed, then let go. His pain hurt her in return, but it also provided a strange nutrition of its own. His faith and reliance on her was complete. It was the same faith he radiated in the moment she volunteered herself for death, only—less dramatic.

"Go find somewhere we can hide," he finally said. "We don't just have to keep hidden from the ponies now. There's another tribe of changelings that might want to take advantage. The—"

"Blue," she said. "The one with a queen. Do you think while you're here, you could write down anything useful you remember? Pachu'a said so many little things that are probably important, and I don't want to miss any."

"Sure." His horn flickered, and he managed to lift a pencil out from one side. "I'll... write it down. Something to keep me busy. What about you, though? Can't go out like that."

Amie had already been considering what she should look like. The unicorn form she'd taken twice did seem like a good option, but that was only a matter of repetition. What if someone had seen her walking with Wes? Was Agate small enough for word like that to spread? Even thinking that made her recoil with shame—it was the ponies who were wrong for fearing Wes, not her. Why should she bow to conform to their expectations?

She closed her eyes, and opened them again as the little unicorn nurse. If anyone had seen her, if anyone was afraid because of Wes—that was their problem, not hers. "I'll be back as quick as I can, promise."

Before she could second-guess herself, Amie slipped out the door, and out into the late-afternoon streets of Agate. Technically they weren't following Pachu'a's instructions, but it was close enough to nightfall anyway. Wes wouldn't be leaving with her, so it wasn't like she needed to keep hiding.

Amie attracted a few glances as she emerged from the old building, but nothing like the fear Wes had produced. Unlike Pachu'a, the ponies radiated their emotions so powerfully that she couldn't ignore them.

Most didn't even see her, and those that did felt a range of what she expected. Some curiosity, others worry for someone like her in a rougher part of town—and a few that stared at her adopted body, probably imagining things that would make her sick if she could see them.

Now, a hospital. That shouldn't be too hard. Indeed, a few minutes of walking to get back into the center of town, then all she had to do was find someone to ask. Everyone knew where to find the hospital. As she got close, she found a building more familiar in its construction than most. Blocky and white, with a red cross outside—how could that symbol exist in this world?

Unfortunately for her, it took nearly as little time to be rejected. The hospital wasn't nearly as desperate as the small-town clinic in Motherlode had been—they wanted pesky things like a “resume” and “references.” The suggestion that she could start sweeping floors if they didn't need any EMTs only got her strange looks.

"You have a medical cutie mark, not a custodial mark. Come back when you have the right paperwork."

So much for thinking that Equestria was so old-fashioned it wouldn't do things like check her ID.

Amie left the hospital behind without pushing too hard, quietly cursing Pachu'a in her mind. If only that bug had stuck around long enough to tell her about the society she was supposed to be “hunting” in, maybe she could find a better way to hide.

The reminders of danger were ever-present. More than once, she saw a pair of royal guards on patrol, walking briskly down the road. They wore only clubs, and seemed friendly with the locals—but all she had to do was reveal what she really looked like, and those horses would murder her with as little thought as Tailslide had killed Garcia.

She considered other solutions to get her hands on some money—stealing when she could levitate didn't seem too hard, except that would make her into a blight on society, one unlikely to elicit much compassion in any eventual plea with their princess.

Whatever Amie did, it had to pay well enough to feed Wes, and give them somewhere to hide. They couldn't keep living in a dingy warehouse without attracting unwanted attention.

She thought about heading to the high-walled royal guard base on the opposite end of Agate and applying there—being a scout couldn't be that different from being a soldier. But even if they took her, that would do nothing to provide for Wes.

She inquired with a few little shops around town, asking if any were hiring. Each answered in the negative. It was the same story all around town—the nearby mines were producing less and less. That meant fewer miners, and fewer customers. It meant anywhere that was actually hiring would give her the same problem the hospital did—she didn't legally exist, or have any references to point to. She didn't know the world well enough to produce a convincing forgery.

All the while she imagined Mr. Albrecht watching her from behind his tall desk, wearing one of those stupid cardigan sweaters of his. He would click his tongue, and repeat what he said in that last message. She had abandoned Stella Lacus to its fate. She should be helping her students survive, not be living out here on her own.

Amie kept walking long enough that she nearly reached the edge of town. The streetlights came on, actual gas lamps lit by actual lamp-lighters with tall poles to reach up and light each one. Under the fading sunlight, she found herself in the dingiest, poorest part of Agate yet.

Here half the buildings looked abandoned, with dark, boarded-up windows. The ponies here were a little leaner than the rest, looked a little more nervous as they walked.

There was only one exception, a brightly lit multi-story affair at the end of the lane. Even this building was falling into ill-repair, with hasty additions atop and on the sides, some leaning so precariously that she doubted their structural soundness. The sign was something so absurd that Amie didn't even know what she was looking at. What the hell was a “rent a friend?”

What little traffic there was in this part of town did seem to be visiting it. And there at the bottom, another smaller sign. "Want to be a friend? Inquire within!"

Amie's stomach turned as she considered what kind of “friend” exactly might be rented here. But if something that slimy was going on inside the building, why couldn't she feel it? When ponies stared at her, or when Tailslide even thought she was pretty, Amie felt it. She should be swimming in an overflowing flood of sickening feelings. She felt almost nothing of it from the building, at least no more than she felt from anywhere else in town.

Maybe Amie wasn't meant to be a nurse after all. Maybe the job she really needed was a professional friend.

She marched up to the building, wearing the friendliest smile she could muster. As she drew closer, she got little glimpses inside—the interiors were well-furnished, much nicer than she would've expected from such a run-down building. There were libraries inside, fountains and galleries and even a little stage. This wasn't a brothel at all... it was a theater! Closer to the latter than the former, anyway.

The lobby was a private affair of many little alcoves and quiet music playing on what sounded like a scratchy record. Most of the sitting room was packed with customers—but not the sleazy older stallions she imagined wanted escorts. What the hell is this place?

Finally she worked her way to the front desk. A young earth pony sat behind it, with a cigarette smoking away on an ashtray between them. She looked up at Amie, then rolled her eyes. "We can't take new clients right now," she said, gesturing at the full room with a hoof. "Come back in a few months."

Amie shook her head, pointing back the way she'd come with one leg. "I'm not a customer. I'd like to file an application."

The mare lifted her cigarette, somehow managing to balance it on a hoof without dropping it. She puffed right into Amie's face. "Really? If you say so." She gestured at a narrow doorway on the opposite wall, so flush with the wood Amie hadn't noticed it. "Boss is up there. Guess you're free to try and impress him. Celestia knows we need the talent." Her eyes lingered on Amie's cutie mark as she said it, doubt radiating from her thicker than secondhand smoke. "If you're up for it."

"Guess we'll find out!" Amie forced a smile, just as she'd done with many a rebellious young camper. She could do this. How hard could it be to be a friend?

Chapter 23

Amie ascended a set of rickety wooden steps, wrapping strangely through the frame of the building. It felt more like they’d been added long after the initial construction, making her duck between the walls of rooms in a way no rational engineer would design. The boss might want his own space, but he wasn’t claiming somewhere that the Rent-a-Friend facility could use in some other way.

There were no lights, only the occasional window to light her way. It would be more than enough if she still looked like herself—wearing a pony’s skin, she still had to squint and stumble as she walked. When she finally reached the end, she found an open doorway leading to a large space. Smoke wafted out and down the steps, but not the almost-familiar tobacco that filled the lobby downstairs.

It reminded her far less of a sleazy bar on the far end of town and more of a hippie’s crystal shop, or maybe a canvas tent at a renaissance fair. “Excuse me? I’m here to apply.” She stopped just outside, rapping one hoof against the doorframe. Probably wouldn’t make a good impression by just letting herself in.

“I felt your vibrations,” said a voice. Male, older, with a different accent than many of the miners she’d met so far. “Come inside. Let me see you.”

Amie put on her brightest, most cheerful expression, then walked straight into the office. Its strangeness only grew—there was a fountain off to one side, with shelves covered in strange books and even stranger incense-burners. Every inch of wall space was covered in another painting, portrait, or scroll, depicting the same group of several ponies over and over.

Behind the desk of distressed wood sat an older pony, with a smattering of wrinkles showing from around his eyes. His coat came in salt and pepper gray, with a mane and tail gone almost white. Whether that was a product of age or just his natural color, Amie couldn’t guess. He wore no clothing, but that wasn’t strange. Just another aspect of local life she would have to adjust to if she ever hoped to fit in around here.

“My name is Amie,” she said, extending one hoof towards him across the desk. It was mostly empty anyway, aside from various knickknacks. A little growing tree, a bowl full of colored sand, and more sticks of burning incense. How could he even breathe in all this stuff? “The sign said you were hiring great friends? I’m here to apply!”

The pony remained utterly motionless for so long that she wondered if something had snapped in his brain. Then he sat up, scratching at his chin. The unicorn actually had a slight goatee, one of the few ponies she’d met so far with facial hair. “Amie. Has a nice sound to it, very exotic. My name is Bud Bonzer. The proprietor, director, chief entertainer, councilor, energy healer, and much more. Everypony in Equestria has friends, but few would serve the needs of my customers. Do you have any idea what ‘Rent-a-Friend’ is about?”

She bit her lip, resisting the urge to repeat the name back to him. From the way he spoke, Bud wasn’t expecting another 9-5 employee to punch a clock. He wanted passion, so she would have to give it to him. “Being a friend to ponies who can’t get one?” she suggested. “Or maybe therapy for social anxiety? Honestly, I’m not sure. I just know that I’ve worked as a counselor for years now. Mostly for younger… ponies, but I’ve got plenty of experience with those with social trouble. It’s just part of the job for me.”

“A counselor for years…” he repeated, leaning to one side. “With a medical cutie mark? To be frank, I’m a little surprised you would bother applying here. There are hospitals and clinics all across the valley with a desperate need for ponies. Maybe you should put your talents to use there, instead of here.”

She settled herself down in front of his desk, sitting on her haunches. There were no chairs here—so either he didn’t expect visitors to stay long, or wanted them to be a little uncomfortable. “Sometimes passion and talent don’t overlap, Mr. Bonzer.” And maybe I spent a whole day trying but they wouldn’t take me. “I’m interested in being a friend. Will you take me?”

He frowned, levitating something off the nearby shelf. It was one of at least a dozen identical books, each one with the same leather-looking cover. He set it down in front of himself, then cracked it open, filling the air with that crisp smell of new paper and whatever was written inside. This wasn’t a book that Bud read often, then.

“When customers visit us, we never know which Element of Harmony they’ll need most. Can you tell me about a time you’ve exemplified each one?” He set the book down, then rose to his hooves, backing away from the desk. A heavy board sat tucked up against the wall. It was divided in sixths, with headshots of various creatures in each one.

Below each were names, with little notes scribbled beneath them too small to read from across the room. “Most clients need something in particular from the friends they hire. They’re traveling workers, mostly, who leave their connections behind in whatever towns they came from. Their vibrations are out of alignment. Our friends supply them.”

She walked around the desk, moving a little closer to the board. Close enough to see the headings at least. “Kindness, Loyalty, Generosity, Laughter, Honesty, and… Magic?” Some sections of the board had far more names than others, particularly Kindness and Laughter. Those who visited the rental had simple needs. But how could she give a visitor magic? Apparently that was what some wanted, judging by the handful of names scattered there.

She thought the Meyers-Briggs was complicated.

“If you joined our team, which Element of Harmony could you demonstrate?” he continued. “I want to know how you learned about it, what you think about the lessons taught in the Friendship Dialogs.”

“I can…” she trailed off, eyes darting across the diagram. “Why should someone be limited to just one? These aren’t mutually exclusive. Sometimes I guess they interfere—it can be hard to be kind and honest about some things. I’m not even sure what generosity would mean towards a client. They’re paying you for my time, right?”

He clicked his tongue, thoughtful. “You have a strange vibration, Amie. Every virtue at once, you say? Why don’t you start by telling me which of the Elements inspired you most? To make it a little harder, don’t pick Twilight Sparkle. The princess is too easy, and many unicorns who apply mistakenly assume they can demonstrate it all alone. They don’t realize that friendship is Magic.”

Was she talking to a cult leader? Amie tilted her head to the side. She could try to BS an answer, maybe reading off one of the other names from the board. But lying would only make it worse. She needed to be honest about her abilities, even if that meant starting lower. Better not to get a job than to be quickly fired because she didn’t know what she was doing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she admitted. “Elements of Harmony? Are those not these… virtues up here, on the board? I don’t see one called Twilight.”

His mouth hung open. Bud walked slowly past her, back to the desk. She followed, returning to the other side. He flipped through the book’s pages in glowing magic, looking frustrated. “You don’t even know the Elements of Harmony? Amie—you seem like a lovely young mare. Maybe with enough training, you could add your positive energy to our workplace. But being just good enough isn’t good enough for Rent-a-Friend. That’s why ponies always come back to us—every pony here has something unique. They need that spark, something to remind them of their real friends back in whatever town they came from.”

He snapped the cover closed, settling back in his seat. “I’m not feeling that spark from you, Amie. I don’t think you’d fit in here.”

Another failure. She’d be going back to that warehouse, back to their dwindling food supplies, back to a brother who shouldn’t even be in this situation in the first place. She’d kept him alive, but for how long? They wouldn’t last until Pachu'a returned with his expedition of friendly changelings. Without their help, Stella Lacus was probably doomed too.

I can’t let that happen.

Amie stood, taking one dramatic step back from the desk. “I’ll admit, Mr. Bonzer—I’m not well trained. I’m new to Equestria, I don’t know your culture yet, your traditions. I could study it—but you’re right, that wouldn’t be something unique. But I think you might be overlooking something. You want a spark? Maybe I have one, something no one working at Rent-a-Friend can do.”

He folded his hooves across the desk, watching her seriously. “What’s that, miss? If there’s anything I missed, please. I wouldn’t want to pass judgment without feeling every angle of the energy you bring here. If there’s some other resonance you have, please show me. What makes you different?”

This is a very bad idea. Amie closed her eyes, inhaled sharply—then changed. In a flash of green magic, Healing Touch was replaced by a totally different pony, the Pegasus she’d come up with while copying Tailslide. She spread her wings dramatically, walking right up to the desk.

Bud sat utterly frozen in place. His emotional mask finally broke, and now she sensed something real from him. Shock mostly, with ample fear twinged inside. Something else too, one she couldn’t place. Amie was committed to the act now. “You have staff for each of those virtues, staff who are better at being one kind of friend than another. But I know there are clients who need specific care.”

She concentrated again—this time, the change came quicker. She wasn’t inventing something new, just copying a young pony she’d seen as part of a school group this morning. She was too young to be one of Amie’s own students, not at an adventure camp. Her powers didn’t seem to care. “Do parents bring their kids for a friend? I bet they would get along better with someone their own age. But you couldn’t have a real kid working here, could you?”

She took a breath, then changed again. She was already feeling winded, burning through magic faster than she’d ever done since discovering she had it. Wes had left her with a significant reserve of power, but it wouldn’t last forever. Not if she transformed every few seconds like this.

This time, she picked an earth pony, one of the prospecting types she’d seen making their way across town with heavy bags of tools and worn-looking faces. “Maybe a miner doesn’t trust ponies with wings and horns to know what it’s like to do hard labor? Lucky you, you have someone who can look exactly the way they expect.”

Her mind raced with another option, but she stopped short, settling onto her haunches. The exhaustion of so many changes was too much to sustain, she had to catch her breath. “M-maybe not so fast. It would… probably be better if they didn’t know I could do it. Some secrets are best left behind the curtain. Since I’m a—“

“Changeling,” Bud whispered, breathless. “You’re a changeling.” He vanished from his seat in a flash of light, reappearing beside her. “I thought you were all… insane with hunger. You could barely hold a conversation with a pony without trying to feed on their love.” He stopped, tilting his head to the side. “You know we don’t sell love here, right? Not in Agate, but there’s a place just south where ponies sometimes go for that kind of thing. Not here. Can’t do it with a Royal Guard base.”

Amie shuddered all over. “I’m not working at a brothel, and I’m not mad with hunger.” She turned, meeting his eyes. “You won’t believe me, but… I’m not the same tribe of changelings as the one who invaded. I’m from far away—from another civilization like Equestria. I don’t want to harvest love, but I do want a paycheck.”

He was silent for a long time, his emotions such a confused mess that Amie couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Finally she felt a hoof on her shoulder, pulling her in close. “Now that is exactly what I meant by a spark, Amie. Let’s see if we can bring your vibrations into alignment.”

Chapter 24

It was still dark outside when Amie brought her brother across Agate, and led him up one of several back ways into the Rent-a-Friend building. There were so few other ponies around that there was almost no one to see anything suspicious. Those few who were still up at that late hour wouldn’t see two changelings, just one ordinary earth pony mare and another small pony wrapped in a cloak made from an old shipping cloth.

“I can’t believe you pulled it off,” Wes whispered, following behind her up several flights of metal steps. It looked a lot like climbing a fire-escape, except that they were on the side of a building instead of the front. “After the way they treated us, I kinda expected them to figure you out.”

Amie fished around with the keyring in her satchel. Without a horn, she couldn’t use magic to move it around. But she had weeks of practice using her stupid hooves for basic tasks, so she could manage this one. She got it into the waiting lock, then twisted it.

“My boss didn’t figure it out, I told him. That’s the whole reason he hired me. And gave us this place.”

Technically the werehouse wasn’t part of the Rent-a-Friend building. Instead it was connected by a rickety wooden bridge, which Bud had taken her across a few minutes after hiring her.

She swung the door open, then flicked on the light. The interior was obviously not meant to be a real apartment building—the ceilings were too high, the windows too narrow. This was an old factory, one Bud had bought and converted into living quarters. Rent-a-Friend might be profitable, but it still took space.

Flickering lights illuminated a dozen different doors, made of identical rough wood and numbers on each. “I’m… still struggling to understand what’s going on with all this,” Wes admitted. “We’re trusting ponies with what we are? You’re working at a friendship store? What is all this, exactly?”

“Well this is where we’ll live. Ponies are terrified of us, so he can’t just have us working here out in the open. We’ll be ponies—several ponies, actually. All of these rooms are empty, he hasn’t found staff to fill them yet.”

“But it’s not…” Wes lowered his voice. “You know I wouldn’t ask you to—we can find another way, if that’s what it takes. This isn’t a—”

“No,” she said, loudly. “They really are just friends, Wes. It’s not a euphemism. Ponies are just that desperate for it.”

She reached one door at random near the center of the room, and unlocked it. Technically she had the master key, each one of these rooms locked the same way. Only this one wasn’t totally empty. The door swung open, and she switched on another light.

The room beyond was no cheap motel to rent by the hour—instead, it looked like any other apartment, with mass-produced furniture and boring photos. But it had a real fridge, and a steady thrum of heating kept the space warm. They wouldn’t freeze here, like out in the warehouse.

“This is the one we’ll really live in. Mostly you, probably—I’ll have a busy schedule at first. Bud wants to evaluate me. If it goes badly we might be out on our butts before too long. I convinced him to take a chance on me, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get rid of us just as fast.”

“There’s a military base right in town,” Wes said. “Do you trust this guy not to take advantage? What if he just… tells us we have to work for free? And if we don’t, he calls border patrol? That’s never happened in our world before, it definitely couldn’t happen here.”

Amie clicked the door shut, then locked it. “I can read his emotions, remember? That doesn’t mean Bud couldn’t change his mind… but I think he’s sincere. He’s all kinds of eccentric—but he cares way more about providing a good service to his customers than making the most bits. He could’ve hired way more ponies by now, but he hasn’t, because he only takes the best. He really cares about helping ponies.”

Wes paced through the little living room and kitchen, then nudged open the bedroom door. It was far less impressive than the front of the apartment, barely even big enough for the bed it contained. “Yeah, we won’t do any work there,” she said. “Bedroom’s yours. Actually this whole apartment’s yours. It’s the one where we can be ourselves.”

She made her way to the window, then drew the shutters closed. Finally she relaxed, really relaxed, letting her true body return.

The hideous bug didn’t feel any less hideous after exchanging it for several different ponies during her tryout performance. Instead, it left Amie aching to be one of them for real. There were holes in this body, from the legs all the way up. “They’ll keep the food here stocked. I’m supposed to use it for clients who visit, moving it into the different rooms when I need them.”

Wes made his way over, then opened the fridge. His mouth fell open at the variety. Fresh fruit of all kinds, several pitchers of colored liquids. Tea and fruit juice, though there were several light wines as well.

Wes selected an apple from the fridge, carrying it in faltering levitation over to the table. Even doing that much was an impressive feat from him. “I don’t understand why they would give us all this space,” he said. “Why do you need a whole floor?”

“Because we’re not changelings,” she said. “We’re a whole group of new staff, all hired at once. We can’t live with the others, because he doesn’t know which ones can be trusted not to get upset with a changeling working here. If there are any rumors of that, it ruins his whole reputation. Staying hidden has to come before everything.”

“What about the stairs out in the hall?” He pointed back the way they’d come. “Do those go anywhere?”

She shrugged. “The roof probably, why? This is the top floor, there’s nothing up there.”

He finished the apple, then carefully deposited his saddlebags on the table in front of him. “I know it’s probably a long-shot. But I’ve been thinking about ways to… stay in touch with camp? For you more than me. But with enough metal foil, we could make a dish. Point it back towards the mountain. Sending anything back would be harder, we’d need to improve transmission power somehow. I know Rick was working on different ways to do that, maybe we could do one of them here? Ponies might have electronics stores.”

She chuckled. “I guess they might. From what I saw, it’s nothing like back home. But… we are in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe the technology just hasn’t gotten here yet.”

She put one hoof on his shoulder, keeping her voice down. “I know how much we want to help them. But out here, the best thing we can do is find how to send everyone in camp back to Earth. Radios won’t do that, native magic will. Remember the plan? You’re going to find out about magic, and I’m going to earn us enough money to take a trip to the capital and get it.”

Wes rested his head up against her leg, closing his eyes. “Yeah. I know. It’s… overwhelming.”

“It’s not fair that this responsibility is all ours. But what’s the alternative—run away and abandon everyone? Never see Mom and Dad again?”

He didn’t answer for a long while. “I’m glad you’re here, Amie. I think I probably would just run away. But your kids deserve someone better. The camp does too. I’ll try to be as good as you are.”

They spoke for another few hours, until the sun started to rise. Only after Wes went to bed did Amie finally leave that room and cross to the one at the front of the floor. It opened with the same key, into a room that was decorated nothing like the one she’d just left.

“I’ve been looking for the right creature to take this spot,” Bud had explained, when he first showed her the space. Not an apartment so much as a… rec-room? It reminded her of the one in camp, with game tables, shelves of fun books, and snacks in high baskets. This was a smaller scale version of the same thing, the kind of place a teenager with an infinite budget might build.

“There’s a client whose support could really make a difference for the Rent-a-Friend. Daughter of… the most important pony in Agate. She’s had some trouble fitting in since leaving Canterlot, and hasn't made any local friends. Only problem was, the friend her father wants for her doesn’t exist. Good thing with you she doesn’t have to.”

Amie made her way in, where a single sheet of paper sat on the game table. She had glanced at it before, but didn’t take the time to study it until now. It was a mass-copied form, filled out with a meticulous, military penmanship. It wanted a unicorn mare between fifteen and eighteen, with a wide diversity of interests and bizarre skills.

Amie turned it over a few times, playing over what a pony like that would look like. One of her adventure campers, more or less. Someone who wanted to go out into the wilderness to explore—not to find rare metals or gemstones, but just for the joy of seeing something new. At the same time, she needed to hold her own in conversations about politics, military history, and science. She needed to be outgoing when the client wanted her to be, but accept direction when they wanted to take charge.

Bud didn’t want her to work daycare, though that would’ve been easy enough for Amie. Instead, the application suggested an adventure camp counselor, an enterprising young scholar across many fields, and probably more she wasn’t even seeing at first. On the diagram showing each Element of Harmony, Bud’s notes suggested every single one would be needed with this client.

I told him I could do it all. Now we see if I was right. Amie paced back and forth in front of the room’s big mirror. In front of her were several books taken from the shelf—most of these were meant for younger ponies anyway, showing explorers in action-packed poses and dangerous situations.

What would a younger me look like as a unicorn? She wasn’t talented enough to draw, but she could imagine. What if Stella Lacus had come to Equestria during a previous year, and not been monsters? Would she even be a unicorn?

Probably not, the wings were just too cool, and would make getting from one adventure to the next much easier. But that was part of this client’s problem in the first place.

Amie knew the moment her vision was clear enough, because magic flashed around her, briefly filling the dark space. When it faded, the room looked a little bigger, the tables and trail maps a little more inviting.

Amie stared back into the mirror, memorizing what she saw there. If this worked out, she would need to recreate this body many times.

She was lean, but didn’t give up the muscles she’d built with her summers of adventure. She chose several different blues for her coat, not so much because they meant anything as she thought they would look cute together, with a creamy white mane.

She stretched, then jogged back and forth across the room a few times, getting familiar with the smaller body with its strange proportions.

It fit well enough. All she needed was a name. Something to go with that tent cutie mark. “Rain Fly,” she decided, whispering to the mirror. Yes, she could be Rain Fly. She might even enjoy it, depending on the client. Lucky her to get somepony she might’ve been friends with back in her real life.

The only tricky thing was that strange note about politics and history. How could she possibly prepare for that? Amie picked a few of the least interesting books up off the shelf in her magic, carrying them to the bean-bag chair. She had until the afternoon to prepare for her first day of work, she wasn’t going to let a second of that time go to waste.

I’ll protect you, Wes. No matter what it takes.

Chapter 26

The base gym was far more impressive than any of the facilities at Stella Lacus. There was all the standard weights and gym equipment off to one side, albeit in shapes that fit pony bodies better. There was a pool, a huge rock wall, and plenty of obstacles.

They weren’t as difficult as Stella Lacus’s rope course. But campers were primates with opposable thumbs, not horses with flat stumps. How could they be expected to climb over such steep slopes, or swing over perilous drops to foam below?

Somehow, they managed it. There were several smaller groups going through the course, usually in single file. They wore guard armor over their chests, though it was a dull metallic silver instead of polished gold. Training gear, maybe? For all Amie knew about adventuring, she was almost equally ignorant about the military. Now where was the pony she was looking for? A young pony, with a green coat and silvery-white mane. She wasn’t part of the guards, so she should be on her own—there!

She was on the climbing wall. She struggled up an overhang, her hooves slipping on carved wooden grips. As Amie approached, the mare stumbled backward, then tumbled right off the side, spiraling to the ground. There was no one holding the other end of the rope.

Amie caught it in her magic as she approached, arresting her fall from injuring speed to a painful bump.

Up close, Ivy Path looked about how she expected. Short mane with a tight ponytail, and a short tail tied behind her. She wore the same style as all the guard ponies, but made by tying her hair instead of cutting it. That way she could let it all loose, and look like a civilian again if she had to.

“I’m sorry about that, sergeant. I know you said not to touch the wall alone. This time I was—” She stopped abruptly, staring at Amie. “You’re not Sergeant Green.”

“Nope,” she agreed, approaching the mat. “Looked like you needed a climbing buddy. Where do you get those helmets?” She bent down, holding a hoof towards her. “Rain Fly, by the way.”

“Ivy,” said the mare. She took the offered hoof, struggling to stand. “Helmets are over there.” She stretched, groaning. “Sure you’re up for this, Rain Fly? I don’t see a uniform on you. What kind of unicorn can climb?”

Amie levitated a helmet over, then slipped it on. There was an opening at the front for a horn, so it went on with relative ease. “Dunno, Ivy. Can’t help but notice you’ve got a horn too.”

She grinned. “Accident. Whole family got wings, but somepony in my family tree decided that unicorns were cute, and now I’m stuck on the ground forever.” She unclipped herself from the rope. “Harnesses are over there, if you’re really mare enough to try. It’s not as easy as I made it look.”

Amie didn’t levitate this one, but walked over to grab it. Not just because there were so many different sizes—if Ivy didn’t think much of magic, then using it around her was probably a bad idea.

Yes, that worked. She felt Ivy’s feelings towards her improve slightly as she made her way back. Was it from doing the walking herself, or being brave enough to climb? “You want me to ballay for you? You just tumbled.”

Ivy answered by thrusting the line and its heavy metal clip towards her. “Nah, Rain. I wanna see what you’re made of. You make it to the top, and maybe I’ll trust you to hold the line for me.”

She clipped in, attaching the same way she’d seen Ivy do it. “Can I do this part of the wall? I’m not good enough for overhangs yet.” Human Amie could’ve made it up a wall this simple in less than a minute, even that really challenging terrain there at the end.

Instead of thinking less of her, she felt more respect from the young mare. Ivy thought it was a big deal to admit she couldn’t do something. “I guess so. I couldn’t make it up that part, so it’s only fair. What are you doing on Agate Base, anyway? No uniform, no squad… you’ve got a pin.”

Amie nodded. She stood by the wall, but didn’t try to climb it yet, waiting for Ivy to take the rope. She hadn’t yet. “Family. My mom stationed—” she waved a hoof dismissively. “Somewhere or other. Too secret for me to know. National security, you know how it is. All the time in the world for Equestria, none for me.”

Ivy took the rope. She didn’t use her magic, instead wrapping a leather guard around her hoof, then curling the rope several times. “Is she a unicorn too?”

Amie nodded. “No flying from me either. Think I can probably handle this wall though. Looks like… maybe a 5.3. Yours was a 5.6 at least with that overhang. We’ve got one like that back at—” She stopped abruptly, going silent. The camp had plenty of interesting rock walls, as well as real terrain for those with more skills. She could hardly share all her experiences with Ivy without finding a way to modify them. “You ready?”

Ivy nodded, gesturing with the rope. “Go on, filly. You’re just scared.”

Amie took one more look at the wall, then picked a place and started climbing. It helped that she was dealing with a surface obviously built for ponies, with much larger handholds placed appropriately for someone without a primate’s grasp or flexibility with arms they didn’t have. Unfortunately Amie had spent her entire life depending on those things, and now they were taken away.

It wasn’t a race—there was nopony else climbing with her, no timer counting down. All she had to do was execute a perfect climb, the way the instructors in that part of camp would’ve taught. Eyes on the top of the wall, and be conscious of each of her four limbs. If anything, doing this as a pony meant the legs were even more important. Amie might not be able to do a climb like this—but Rain Fly could.

Finally she made it to the top, scrambling up over the edge and rolling onto the top level, breathing heavily. For a few seconds she just lay there on the wood, catching her breath. There was a platform here, with climbing equipment and a set of stairs running along the back. Ponies probably skipped the climb for descent practice. “I… did it!” she exclaimed, grinning down at Ivy. “How’s my time?”

Fifty feet was far enough to confuse the young mare’s emotions with so many others. She wasn’t the only one watching Amie anymore—a handful of military ponies had stopped what they were doing to stare at the unicorn with the strange determination to climb. “I’ve never seen a pony move like that before!”

“Help me down!” Amie backed up, wrapping the line around her foreleg. This part would be much, much easier. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

It took only minutes for Amie to descend back to ground level. She turned to Ivy, out of breath but grinning anyway. “Thanks! Haven’t had that much fun in… a long time. Haven’t got out to the wall since—” but that was more she shouldn’t be talking about. Now that she was up close, Ivy’s emotions were no longer mixed into a dozen others.

She felt—inadequate. Embarrassed, and a little afraid. She’s gonna run.

Amie did the one thing she could think of, and clipped the line to her harness. “Your turn.”

The mare whimpered, touching one hoof to the clip. But Amie had used magic to clip it on, and removing it took time. “I’m not sure I… I can’t climb like you, Rain. I think you need a better partner. You should talk to the enlisted mares.”

“Nah.” She touched one hoof on Ivy’s, pushing it away from the clip. “But I could give you some pointers, if you want. It’s not fair comparing to me—I’ve had classes. Have you?”

Ivy lowered her hoof, considering. “Never. My dad wouldn’t let me. Not even a filly scout.” She pawed at the ground with her free hoof, frustrated. “Your mom lets you do military stuff?”

“No. But she lets me do adventure stuff. Climbing, canoeing, skydiving, kayaking.” Shooting, hunting, survival. “Go on, hop up to the wall. Let’s see your technique. I promise not to laugh, okay? We’ll get you up there.”

The mare stumbled up the wall, then faced it. “You sure about this?”

Amie secured the rope, pulling it in as she walked closer to the wall. She used her magic this time, not just the angle. God only knew how screwed she’d be if she dropped the commander’s daughter on her first day. “Positive. You’re already strong and brave, that’s the part nopony can teach you. Picking the right handholds is the easy part.”

“Handholds,” Ivy repeated, giggling. “Never heard them called that before.”

Amie’s ears folded, and she tucked her tail slightly between her legs. “Yeah, uh—guess probably not around here. Anyway, first thing’s first! Eye contact with your ballay before you start climbing, audible confirmation they’re ready. Then you pick a route…”

Ivy might feel a little performance anxiety, but she was far better than she gave herself credit. Once she got climbing, Amie found a student who was as capable as she was eager. She probably could’ve made it up the wall without any help at all—with it, the task became almost effortless.

As effortless as any climbing could be for a creature without opposable thumbs, anyway. There was no getting around the sweat and exhaustion from either of them.

When she finally made it, Amie cheered, applauding one hoof against the wall. Ivy beamed down at her, then leaned a little too far and went tumbling over the edge.

A few feet, anyway. Amie was watching, so caught her with her own weight. She slid a short distance, then caught herself against the wall, arresting Ivy’s fall a second time. “Tell me when you’re gonna repel!” she yelled back, without anger. “Maybe take the climb down a little slower?”

“Y-yeah, right.” Ivy swung out from the wall, caught herself, then started climbing. She was every bit as fearless as any camper Amie had ever taught, not showing the slightest fear of heights. Only embarrassment in front of a peer frightened her.

“I did it!” Ivy exclaimed, when she made it to the mat. “I’d like to see Royal Guards with a time that good. I’ve never seen them climb like that.”

Amie shrugged. “Different school of climbing, I guess.” They took the next few minutes changing out of the harnesses, and hanging up their equipment. By then there was a decent-enough group of actual soldiers who wanted to use the equipment, waiting with rapidly waning politeness for them to finish. Amie got out of their way as quickly as she could, before following Ivy over to a water fountain.

She drank as much as she could hold, then followed Ivy from the gym. “I only just got to Agate,” Amie said conversationally, as they walked together from the building. “Do you know of anything else fun around here? I hate sitting still.”

Ivy turned, pointing off towards a different mountain. “There’s a trail up to the lake. Supposed to be some cliffs you can jump from. The pegasi say the trail is too tough for land ponies, so no one ever goes.”

“Want to?” Amie asked. “I wouldn’t feel good about a trip like that alone. But if you can get me a trail map, we could plot a route. If you think your parents will let you.”

Those might as well be magic words. “I don’t need permission. I’ve got a cutie mark of my own.” She grinned back. “When do you usually go to the gym? About now?”

She shrugged. “Might as well, yeah.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Rain” She waved with one hoof, then turned into a nearby building. The nicest barracks of them all, with actual guards at the front instead of cadets.

Amie waited for her to vanish through the doors before turning to go.

That could’ve gone worse, she thought, trotting back to the exit. She was drenched in sweat, and had aches all over her body. But it was the good kind of pain, the one that waited at the end of an excellent workout. Too bad camp was too busy trying not to starve to get much working out anymore. She missed this feeling.

Chapter 27

So went the next few days. Amie visited the base in the mornings, and spent more and more of her days with Ivy afterwards. Her fear over discovery and swift execution soon faded into the background. After a week, even the occasional suspicious looks had turned to friendly greetings. Ponies didn’t know her, but they knew Ivy, and seeing the young mare happy for a change was something her friends couldn’t just ignore.

It didn’t hurt that Ivy was exactly the kind of kid she was used to teaching at Stella Lacus, and who would likely go on to being another counselor herself. She was brave, compassionate, and restless, always looking for the next horizon to conquer. Now that she had a friend to keep her company, her father gave her a little more freedom, letting her take short trips away from the base and out to the wilderness around Agate.

Always away from Mt. Stella Lacus, where the Changeling Containment Perimeter now stood. Even a full town of separation was not enough for the people of Agate to feel fully secure—the town had guards patrolling the road, and refused to let any creature in or out of town after nightfall.

Of course Amie didn’t tell them their security had failed to stop her from getting into town, even with her brother walking right beside her. How long would they have lasted in town without Pachu'a pulling them aside for a covert conversation?

Amie left a note waiting for him in the warehouse, which she visited periodically to check for any sign of his return. It was by this means she received a visitor just before dawn, when a set of hooves landed on her roof, not far from where her brother slept in the other room. She put on a familiar pegasus disguise—the one she’d made with Tailslide’s help—before hurrying upstairs to check.

The pony waiting for her looked entirely unfamiliar, an older male wearing a heavy pack and traveling cloak with gaps cut for his wings. He looked up as she emerged, watching silently.

“Did you bring any avocados?” she asked, both wings open instinctively. That made sense for real pegasi, who could fly to escape danger—considerably less so when she had spent her last few weeks as a unicorn, and never learned.

“Seventeen,” answered the stallion. “But one spoiled on the way.” Then he stopped, tilting his head slightly to the side. “What is an avocado?”

“A delicious fruit from our homeworld,” she answered. “Green with a hard pit at the…” she trailed off, backing towards the stairs. “We shouldn’t talk out here.”

He followed her inside, just through the open doorway. They didn’t descend the stairs, not even to check for listening ears. When they could sense nearby emotions, there was no reason to bother. “You’re back from visiting your people…” Amie said, as soon as the door was shut behind them. “What did the Elders say?”

His face barely twitched, betraying none of his emotions underneath. Almost nothing made it through the cracks—eagerness, relief, and amusement. They were so faint when coming from another changeling that it was hard to get them straight. “You survived on your own, Amie. I am surprised, and relieved. Do the ponies of Agate know of your presence here?”

She shrugged. “One does, technically. But he’s taking a risk by letting me work for him, so it’s mutual.”

Pachu'a reacted instantly. His wings opened, and he backed towards the door, flipping his robe aside to reveal a long metal dagger, easily within reach. “What leverage did you use? Not hope, not pride, joy, or love—which feeling gives you sustenance, anyway?”

“Which feeling?” It was her turn to be confused, as much by the rapidity that Pachu'a changed subjects, as the strange things he said. Which feeling, as though it was only one? “Lots of things? I’ve felt, uh… love, compassion, joy, appreciation… probably more.”

She eyed his knife, and didn’t move closer. “What did your Elders decide, Pachu'a? Are they going to help my people, or not?”

She felt almost as much confusion from the other changeling as she was experiencing herself—so confused that she wondered if they were even speaking the same language, for a moment there. At least it passed quickly.

“I’ve come with a small expedition—ten strong hunters, expert in stealth, with a peace offering of glamour. We’re prepared to travel north as soon as the sun rises, under cover of miners visiting Motherlode. We’ll divert on the way, and cross into your settlement.”

He kicked the door open behind him, extending one hoof. “We’ll need you to travel with us, to make introductions.”

Amie winced, remaining where she stood. “Well, uh—“

“This place seems secure,” he said, dismissively. “I’m sure your brother will be fine. If you’re worried..” He unclipped a canteen from his belt, tossing it down the stairs. “Give him that. A week’s worth of glamour at least. We’ll be back by then.”

Amie shook her head once. She definitely wouldn’t leave Wes behind, no matter how secure she thought her new home should be. Which was probably not at all, if she stopped visiting Ivy inexplicably. But that wasn’t the reason she refused to go. “I can draw you a detailed map, but I can’t come with you to make introductions.”

“Why not?” Pachu'a closed his wings, expression hardening. “They’re your swarm. Even if no queen has appeared from among you, you must feel some sense of loyalty to your kin. You felt enough to beg for relief on their behalf.”

“It’s not that!” She backed away, retreating a single step down. “When we first got to Equus, we didn’t know how dangerous it was. My brother and I… were trying to leave camp. On our way out, we crossed the Changeling Containment Perimeter, and the guards discovered us, killing several of my swarm.”

The word felt strange on her tongue, but it was clearly what Pachu'a expected. “There are no surviving witnesses from camp, other than my brother and myself. That’s why my brother and I are out here—they think we’re murderers.”

He rolled his eyes. “Amie, the truth of your words is manifest in your emotions. You can’t know they blame you, you aren’t there! And if they did, they will sense your feelings, and know you speak the truth. I feel it now, you have taken no lives. So why worry?”

If she pushed too hard, would Pachu'a abandon his expedition, and leave Stella Lacus to its fate?

“They don’t know their powers!” she hissed. She couldn’t keep her feelings suppressed the way he did, and she didn’t try. Let him feel the full weight of her fear, and the greater anxiety she felt for Wes’s safety. Maybe they would crush him the way they crushed her.

“Listen to me, Pachu'a. You said your Elders knew there was something strange here, right? So tell them that. The camp director is an old man named Mr. Albrecht. When you’re with him, you can tell him the truth. I found you, told you that my campers were starving, and hoped you would be able to help us. He’s a stern, prideful man—but he cares more about keeping his campers alive than anything else. He’ll be receptive, because we’re desperate.”

None of this was exactly good information to give to the other party in a negotiation. What future waited for Stella Lacus, if the swarm Pachu'a came from knew how weak and helpless they were?

Pachu'a pawed at the ground, radiating unhappiness and mistrust. Finally, he spoke. “You are a hunter yourself, Amie. You must sense how dangerous this feels. You send my group into a mountain patrolled by Equestrian soldiers, into a swarm on the edge of starvation and surrounded by enemies. What stops them from attacking us? My hunters are strong, but we are few.”

What could she say? “Make sure you aren’t wearing pony disguises,” she said. “I’ve sent messages back since I got out, warning them about Equestria, and trying to make my case. If you look like us, that will give them less reason to fear.”

Pachu'a glanced over her, then back down into the building underneath. There was only one creature there, with feelings radiating up towards them through the floor. Her brother dreamed, and so was surrounded by peaceful, comfortable feelings.

“I will go,” he finished. “But in exchange, I demand an oath. An oath that when I do, your brother will accompany me to the cliffs. You may come as well, if you wish. But your brother will come, and be a guest of the Elders.”

He extended his hoof again, expectant. “Give me your word as a hunter, Amie.”

There was nothing inherently magical in a promise, exactly. But with their ability to sense emotions, Pachu'a would know if she made the oath with any hesitation of doubt. She couldn’t say anything she didn’t mean and expect him to agree. “Will my brother be treated well?” she demanded. “I’ll do anything to protect him, Pachu'a. I have never killed anyone before, but I will if they threaten him. Will they dissect him, feed on him, do anything to hurt him?”

Pachu’a’s leg sagged, expression bewildered. “Who hurt you that you would ask such questions, Amie? What does guest mean where you come from? There will be no harm, even if you are the eggs of another queen.”

He raised his leg again, insistent. “Make this oath, and I will deliver aid with my hunters. I can promise nothing of what agreement we will reach beyond that.”

“I would swear,” she began. “But I’m the wrong person to ask. We need to wake Wes, get his promise.”

“Promise you will allow it,” Pachu'a insisted. “Then we will ask him.”

“I swear,” she said, taking the extended hoof. “I’ll encourage him, and not stop him from going with you.”

Pachu'a lowered his leg, satisfied. “The sun is already rising. Let me speak with him, while you draw a map. My hunters and I are already familiar with the area, but not the new mountain. Focus on this.”

Within the hour, Pachu'a was gone with his group. Once he had a personal oath of consent from her brother, he was eager to get on the road to camp.

Amie sat across the table from Wes, who sipped at a steaming cup of coffee. Unfortunately for her, the familiar relief of caffeine did her no good, so she could only watch.

“You trust they’ll help in camp?” Wes asked, setting down his mug. “I thought the plan was getting to the capital and studying their library for a spell to send everyone in Stella Lacus home.”

“The campers have to be alive to send home, Wes. They were already hungry, hunting the mountain bare. They might be starving by now. Besides…”

She reached over, resting one hoof on his shoulder. “We aren’t the first humans to end up here. I know we only have two groups to compare against—but I can’t help but notice they’re still here. What if we can’t ever get home?”

Wes dropped his mug. He whimpered, eyes filling with tears. “N-never see Mom and Dad again? Look like this… f-forever?”

She rose, walked around to the other side, and wrapped her foreleg around his shoulder. “I’m not saying it’s true. We don’t know yet, there’s no reason to give up. I’m just saying, we have to explore every option. Those campers are going to starve if no one does anything—or worse, they’ll be stuck there until they’ve gone crazy with hunger, then wander out and get killed by the Royal Guard as they forage past the line. They need this deal to work out. That might mean we take a detour for Pachu'a’s tribe.”

Wes nudged up against her, whimpering with pain. Even so, she felt his love as powerfully as ever, that desperate need for support and dependence on her, refilling her magical reserves.

What little they had drained, anyway. Amie spent most of her days full to bursting with friendship.

“I can’t hide in this apartment any longer,” he said, pushing in his chair. “Agate has a library waiting for me, and from now on I’m spending every day there.”

He backed away from her, shook himself out—then he changed.

Chapter 28

Amie watched in silence as her brother transformed. The process was not as quick as she’d come to be, nor did it proceed as easily. For a moment she wondered if the magic would ever finish, or if he would just burn away everything in his stomach. Did it even work that way for him?

But then the light faded, and another creature stood before her. Or technically—an exact duplicate stood in front of her. The fake pegasus, right down to the familiar creamy feathers on her wings. For a few seconds Amie stared into an identical set of purple eyes, sniffing an exact copy of her own scent. Then she grinned. “You’re… me! I thought you said you didn’t want to be a girl.”

“I don’t,” said her duplicate, in her exact voice. Except that she radiated powerful embarrassment, in a way that neither she nor any other bug could possibly manifest. She had Wes’s familiar, halting speech too. “But Pachu'a didn’t stay long enough for me to copy him. I figured it would be easy to just copy someone right in front of me. Look, I did it!”

She opened her wings to either side, holding one up towards her face, then pulling it back quickly. “This is weird. The feathers and… the other stuff.”

Amie dismissed her own pegasus disguise, returning to her usual bug self. She half expected Wes to lose the form as soon as she did, but of course her powers didn’t work that way. Why should his? “I like being a pony a lot better than looking like this. They’re mammals too, so… everything is kinda where you expect it. No second eyelids, no goo instead of blood, and all the other gross stuff—ponies are better. If you don’t want the feathers, don’t be a pegasus.”

Wes circled the table with halting, exploratory steps. Occasionally she looked up into whatever reflective surface happened to be nearby, then got a little more embarrassed. “We just learned… several things. Transformation doesn’t care about sex, and I have the same powers as you do. Which means… we probably are the same species. Whatever that actually means.” She finally stopped, both wings snapping back against her sides. “I wonder if this is easier the second time… can I memorize this, or does a pony have to be there for me to copy?”

Amie watched her, grinning with her brother’s infectious energy. But after weeks of trying and failing to do something, she would probably be just as excited to have it finally work out. “It’s much easier the second time. Once I figure something out, going back to it is simple. And now that I think about it… copying another creature was easier for me.”

She had tried not to think about it, considering her first transformation came at the moment of death. Maybe she shouldn’t feel so sad for a pony who had murdered two camp staff without even trying to talk to them—but they had been trying to kill her at the time.

“Okay, okay. This is good, but I don’t want to be her. I need someone else. A guy, about your age, and a unicorn. Someone who would make for a good student, who could spend all his days in the library studying lost knowledge. Give me someone like that, and I’ll copy him!”

Amie rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a Burger King, Wes. You don’t get to make some silly order and have it your way.” She stopped, grinning weakly. “Was that Subway?”

“What do you care? You can’t eat food anymore.”

“Oh, yeah.” Her wings flattened, and she looked away from him. “I’m getting a lot better at my powers, but I don’t know if I’m that good. Usually I need to come up with a character first, figure out what they’re like, why they do what they do. Really get into my role, you know?”

“No,” she said. “There’s no way you can’t do it. You’re out at the navy base every day. You must see tons of ponies there. Just think of someone who’s close, and change them up a little.”

“If it’s so easy, you do it!” But that was too far. The pegasus slouched, her wings dragging suddenly on the floor. Her brother did not need reminding that he couldn’t do any of this stuff on his own.

“Sorry, sorry. You’ve done great. I should probably be getting ready for work, though. Inventing new bodies isn’t…”

“Just a little delay!” she said, perking up again. “You won’t be late. A few minutes, and I’ll get to spend a whole day at the library. There’s no telling what I might figure out!”

She would’ve said no, if her brother hadn’t spent the last nearly two weeks living in this tiny apartment. She’d saved his life by getting him out of camp, but if he lost hope to keep going, then had she really succeeded?

“Fine, let me just… think for a second.”

What did a smart library pony look like? There was a whole princess of being smart, that probably meant being purple was smart. Unicorn was obvious, so he could practice and experiment with any magic he was studying. Maybe a book for his cutie mark, so no one would ask questions about him spending time in a library. The guy part didn’t bother her so much as her brother, it was just another costume. Amie knew how unicorns looked, so the horn was simple. She spent most of her time with one anyway.

Once she had the body held in mind, the rest came simply—a brief flash, and suddenly she was much taller, and more angular. She opened her eyes, grinning down at her now-smaller younger brother. “This is the best I can do.”

Wes bounced her way over, grinning eagerly. “Yes! That’s perfect! Just stay that way while I try and… take in all the details.”

Amie backed away from their table, then posed, pretending to adjust a pair of invisible glasses. Maybe she should get some real ones, her eyes were actually having some trouble focusing.

Probably not a good idea to make a body with an inherent weakness. Even so, removing a single detail like that would take a great deal of concentration—she’d basically need to come up with a whole new pony, one who specifically didn’t have a trait she had subconsciously associated with someone in this role.

Before she could manage it, the pegasus vanished from in front of her, replaced with another identical twin. She could’ve sworn it went faster this time, too. Now that her brother knew what it felt like, getting any part of his new powers to repeat would be much easier for him

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, wrapping one foreleg around her shoulder with a sudden, grateful squeeze. She felt the usual flood of emotion, more than making up for a brief expenditure of magic to get here. “This is exactly what I imagined. Even the voice is… smarter, somehow. Am I actually smarter this way?”

“Unclear,” Amie replied. She focused on Rain Fly, then changed in another flash of magic. Using so much magic so fast was enough to make her pant from the effort—but at least switching from one unicorn to another very similar one was an extremely minor strain. “I feel like every body I make has its own… instructions, I guess. Instincts. I move different, think a little different. Just don’t get lost in it.”

She had to reach up to pat his shoulder, which she did anyway. “Looking like that, ponies shouldn’t even suspect you’re a bug underneath. But if you don’t act the way they expect, then they might figure you out. If they see you change, they won’t care that you look different from a normal changeling. They’ll still see you, and might kill you.”

Wes deflated. His ears folded, and he retreated from her. “O-oh. Are they really like that? All that friendship talk—I thought maybe they were nicer than that. Gentler. They’re horses, would they really just kill us on sight?”

“I don’t know,” Amie admitted. “I know they got invaded by changelings a few years ago, and lots of ponies died. I know they attacked bugs just for trying to get out of camp. And I know this is a military town, with royal guards all over the place. I’m not trying to convince you not to go out there—you should. Anything you can learn from the library is going to help us. I’m just saying, be careful. You’re not invincible.”

Outside, a high-pitched whistle echoed through the streets, the first call of a shift beginning. That was usually her cue to get going, to meet Ivy for morning PT. “I won’t blame you if you decide to wait until I get back,” she said. “I could make the first trip with you. I’m building up a reputation for this unicorn in town. You could finally get to play the older brother.”

He pawed at the ground, nervous. “There is some… simplicity in that. The less we have to lie about, the less I need to remember. I’m your brother.”

He followed her through the apartment door. “And that’s why I’m going. You don’t have to do everything yourself, Amie. We’re trapped here together. We’ll escape together, too.”

She stopped in the hall for an awkward sibling hug. “Sure. But while we look like this, you should probably call me Rain Fly. And… come up with something I should call you, in case I have to bring you up.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I’m… Bookish.”

She giggled, letting go. “That’s a little on the nose. Try again.”

“Indigo… Wordsmith.”

“There is no way the same pony named me ‘Rain Fly’ and you that whole mess. How about Sunny Stylus?” Was that a good pony name? Amie couldn’t actually put together concrete rules for how their names worked. But nopony gave her trouble about hers.

“Fine. It’s got that weather theme going with yours, it’ll do.”

Amie grinned back at him. “Good luck at the library, Sunny Stylus! Just remember, if anything weird happens, head home. If we need to tackle something together, we can.”

She darted down the stairs, then out onto the street, breaking into a trot for her usual trip across town. Part of her wanted to linger behind to make sure her brother didn’t get himself into too much trouble. Fortunately her job prevented that from happening—she couldn’t be late, not when her client meant so much to the Rent-a-Friend.

It wasn’t the best environment to be sprinting across town. With shifts just beginning, there were dozens of ponies passing through the town, mostly from the housing tenements to the factories. So began another day of refining the ore arriving from Motherlode and elsewhere into metal ingots to be shipped off for manufacturing across Equestria.

She had to duck and weave her way between crowds, and sometimes got stuck behind ponies who insisted on trudging with agonizing slowness across the street. Maybe one day she would learn how to fly, just so she could skip this dull part of her commute.

Then something caught her eye—a pony heading opposite the way she came. There was so much coal dust on his wings and body that she almost missed that familiar cutie mark.

Tailslide, from those bright green eyes to the streak in his mane.

Amie stopped in her tracks, staring as the pony approached. This was far from the stallion she remembered—instead of eager curiosity, this one felt not one drop of anything positive. He trudged along on a thin layer of grim resolve, feeling helpless and defeated.

His wings were a disheveled mess, dragging on the ground behind him as he walked. There were bags under his eyes from little sleep, and his mouth hung open in a daze. He barely even seemed to notice as he walked past Amie.

Which… shouldn’t surprise her. She looked like a completely different pony than any he’d met before. He didn’t see her in the same way he didn’t see any of his surroundings. What the hell happened to you?

“Tailslide?” she called after him, turning to follow. She didn’t have to go far, he wasn’t exactly running.

The stallion stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “Whoever sent you—I told Commander Path I quit. Not one bucking more day.”

Chapter 29

Tailslide’s crassness was attracting attention. Ponies turned to stare in their direction. A few of them actually radiated concern for Amie, afraid that this obviously unwell, muscular stallion might be a danger to her. He might be, depending on just how unwell he was. But probably not for the reasons they feared. I can’t stay to talk to him now, or I’ll be even later than usual for Ivy. She can’t think she’s an afterthought.

She closed the distance between them, lowering her voice as quiet as she could. She should just walk away—but she couldn’t. This pony was the reason she knew enough about Equestria to even try to pass for one of them. Without him, she would’ve just been attacked and captured by the Motherlode ponies.

“My brother and I made it out,” she said. “I wanted to say thanks.”

He stared blankly back at her, completely baffled. She felt the recognition before it appeared on his face. His eyes got wide. “Amie? What are you doing here? Living on base? Don’t you know what they’ll do to you?”

She nodded weakly, glancing nervously to either side. She wasn’t wearing a different disguise—if she spent too much time with him, word might make it back. It took no magic to see a serious falling-out had separated him from the guards.

“When do you get off work?” she asked, voice urgent.

“Evening bell, same as everypony,” he answered grimly. “At the Irongate foundry. Amie, are you listening? You have no idea how much danger—”

She wasn’t listening. She raised her hoof, silencing him. “I’ll meet you there. Wait for me.” She touched his shoulder, smearing coal dust onto her leg in the process. “Please. You look terrible, Tailslide. We need to talk.”

She didn’t say why, exactly, but there was no need to. Tailslide’s downward spiral was self-evident.

She turned before he could argue, trotting back off into the crowd. She broke into an actual gallop as soon as she reached open ground, crossing Agate as quickly as her hooves would carry her.

She was out of breath by the time she reached the gates to Agate Base, and flashed her necklace to the guards. They waved her in, with the old pegasus Dauntless actually grinning at her. “Got lost this morning, Rain Fly?”

She nodded weakly. “Yeah. Got backed up behind a coal-wagon for ages.”

“Perfect day for it,” he said, following her out of the booth. “Wait, don’t go to the gym. There’s somepony who wants to speak with you first.” He rested one hoof on her shoulder, forcefully enough to stop her in her tracks. Amie winced, but bit her tongue, forcing herself to stand still. This wasn’t strange. She wasn’t being arrested. Deep breaths.

“Commander Path wanted to meet you. His office is that building there, see?”

She followed his gesture to the oldest building in camp, the one resembling an old star-fort from back on Earth. Except that this one was a fraction of the horizontal size, and instead rose at least four stories, with enclosed structure inside. “Base Commander’s secretary is Ink Stick, she’ll be expecting you. Just tell her you’re there, then go to the stairs at the end of the hall. Can’t miss the commander’s office on the top floor.”

Amie whimpered, brushing away at the dust and grime on her leg. “B-but… Ivy will be expecting me. We were gonna go hiking today.”

Technically it was preparation for their big trip up to Agate’s secret lake, the one that ground ponies weren’t supposed to visit on account of the difficult trail. She needed to know how good Ivy was on rough terrain before actually risking a trip like that. If she got the commander’s daughter hurt, “friendship” would be the least of her worries.

“I’ll tell her you got called in,” he said, reassuring. “I’m sure you can still go on your hike. Now hurry, he’s already waiting for you, and the commander is not a patient stallion.”

Amie broke into a trot, crossing the grounds straight for the indicated door. Normally this kind of urgency was exactly what she tried to avoid, since it alerted everypony on base that something was wrong. Any reason to pay more attention might make them think a little too much about who Rain Fly was, and where she had come from.

I’m walking right into the most dangerous part of Agate, to see the most dangerous pony there is. She slowed as she reached the doorway, and thought about running. If this was a trap, if they’d somehow figured out what she was—but she couldn’t just turn and flee. There were guards at the exit, who would never let her leave now.

Trying would give them some good reasons to be suspicious. It’s okay. It’s just like my hiring interview with Albrecht. Her dad knows I’m a Rent-a-Friend employee.

Inside was everything she feared. Through the front entrance was a barracks of royal guards, all fully armored with their weapons within reach. Beyond were many offices and other logistical centers, with uniformed ponies working on presumably important things. All of them eyed her, the only mare who wasn’t dressed.

She found Ink Stick exactly where Dauntless told her. The pony barely even looked at her, just waved at a set of gray stone steps leading up. She took them two at a time, hurrying to the second floor, then the third. Up here she found a single hallway, with old photos lining either side. From their expressions, they must’ve been taken in an unfriendliness competition.

There were few other ponies up here, just empty conference and meeting rooms covered with important-looking maps. Through one of them Amie was sure she caught a detailed map of Stella Lacus’s mountain, with dozens of notes and colored perimeter lines.

If she could get alone with her phone in there…

But that wasn’t why she was here. Amie wasn’t trying to infiltrate the guard-base, that would just prove everything ponies said about changelings true. She was making friends, nothing more.

At the end of the hall was an open door, leading to the well-appointed office of Base Commander Bravo Path. She heard a large clock up on one wall, ticking as loud as her own hoofsteps. The walls were all polished wood, with shelves holding old books and glass cases with weapons displayed inside.

An older pegasus sat behind the desk, his graying mane still sharp and his feathers as impeccably straight as his uniform. He looked up at the clock as Amie entered, then snapped a writing folio in front of him closed, replacing the quill with his mouth. “You must be Rain Fly, correct?”

She stopped in front of the desk. Was she supposed to salute? That felt silly, so she nodded instead, not quite deep enough to be a bow. “Yes, sir.”

“Strange name for a unicorn. Guess your parents had something picked out for a pegasus, then ended up with you instead. Sounds familiar.”

She kept silent, not quite able to meet his eyes. She focused on his emotions instead, but even those were harder to read than anypony she’d met so far. He was so focused, that she could feel almost nothing else. Is that anti-changeling training? He is leading the base that guards us.

“I’ll admit, I did not expect such… rapid progress from your organization.” He folded his forelegs across the desk, watching her. “I haven’t missed the Rent-a-Friend’s financial success. I’ve even received inquiring letters from Canterlot, wondering if other cities would benefit from something similar. Are all your colleagues as skilled as you?”

Amie tilted her head to the side, grinning a neutral, approachable smile. “I don’t think it’s about skill, uh… Commander Path.” How was she supposed to call him, when she wasn’t military herself? She didn’t feel any anger, so she went on. “It’s just about finding the right pony. Ivy and I have just the right amount in common.”

The pegasus actually smiled at her. It was far less enthusiastic than most ponies—but maybe this was what emotion looked like on Bravo Path. “Remarkable fortune that you were here, Rain Fly. Let me tell you something—in my centuries of service to Equestria, I’ve sent many children into the guard. Ivy is my youngest, and my last. Equestria is becoming a more dangerous place all the time. If something happens—when something happens, I want somepony who isn’t in harm’s way. Ivy’s unique circumstances qualify her for the position.”

Amie felt the love as he said it, buried in all that formal language and plans made on somepony else’s behalf. What a strange way to show affection he had. But if he had anti-changeling training, that much slipped through. He did care for Ivy, somehow.

Does a century mean something different in Equestria than it does on Earth? That remark was so casually thrown-in, without any hint she might object to it. And she wouldn’t—because she had no idea whether it could actually be true. Given the danger she was in, that detail would have to wait for later.

“You’ve done an impeccable job with Ivy so far. Her spirits are vastly improved, and I haven’t caught her filing recruitment papers for any branch of the guard a single time. You’ve proven the value of the service you offer to Agate already. But long-term, this will not be enough. Helping Ivy recover her confidence is only the first step. Now she speaks of… adventures, rugged, backcountry activities. This is a step in the right direction, but it does not go far enough.”

Amie looked back, keeping her face as neutral as she could. She couldn’t let him see just how angry this line of reasoning was making her. Ivy was already seventeen—and by pony reckoning, she’d already passed the most important threshold when she got her cutie mark. No one batted an eye that Amie was working this friendship job, despite being visibly no older than Ivy. Shouldn’t the young mare’s life be up to her?

Amie had occasionally dealt with parents like this, who called camp every few days to try and micromanage their kids’ visits there. It wasn’t a service the camp offered, but her time on the phone dealing with them was less valuable than someone like Albrecht’s. “Please, uh—explain what you’d like me to do,” she said. “So I make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings. Your daughter has made huge strides since I first met her, I wouldn’t want to lose progress.”

The stallion smiled again. He couldn’t feel the anger boiling under her skin, couldn’t feel how much she was growing to resent him. How do ponies even live without being able to read each other’s feelings?

“Your wilderness activities are a nice distraction for her. But I need Ivy directed to more productive pursuits. My long service to the Crown has created… substantial assets in my family’s name. My estate sits empty in Canterlot, with children who all refuse to return and manage it. That should be her. She needs to learn Equestrian politics, investment, etiquette—and most importantly, she needs to have an interest in these things. I have her passage already booked for the end of next month. When I send her there, she needs to want to leave. Understand?”

Amie nodded automatically. Even so, the weight of his demand settled on her shoulders, almost instantly overwhelming. This was like the parents who expected their kids to come back from their first year at camp as eagle scouts. Stella Lacus wasn’t even part of the Boy Scouts!

“I’m not a tutor,” Amie said. “Teaching her all those things—and in two months—I don’t think there’s a pony in Equestria who could.”

His smile vanished. The worst parents in the world could still be quite pleasant to talk to, so long as you never disagreed. Once she did… “I understand your limitations. Ivy has had the finest tutors for her entire young adult life. But you can’t tell me that a pony’s friends exert no influence on them. You have almost two months. When winter arrives, I want Ivy to realize her time here was a diversion from more important tasks elsewhere. I want her eager to leave. Do you understand?”

Amie nodded again. That didn’t mean she had any idea how to make it happen, or even thought she should. But she nodded anyway. “Of course, sir. I’ll… make that my new objective going forward. Two months, that should be—I’ll figure something out.”

She would have to talk to her boss about it, maybe Bud would have some idea what she was supposed to do. The Rent-a-Friend wasn’t selling indoctrination services, they were just supposed to make ponies feel included!

“Excellent news. So you and your employer are aware—your expansion proposals into the rest of Equestria are waiting on the desk of a planner’s office in Canterlot who happens to be a close family friend of mine. She will not make her decision until I make mine. Don’t disappoint me.”

She didn’t get a chance to reply, because another set of hoofsteps came pounding down the hallway, one that made no attempt to remain dignified in this formal, military space. She turned and saw Ivy, galloping down towards them.

Chapter 30

Amie turned to watch Ivy gallop into the room. There was no need to act to make herself look uncomfortable and want to leave—the less time she was stuck in here, the better she would feel.

“Do you really have to give my friends a dressing down, Dad?” she asked, annoyed. “We had plans today. You can’t just… drag ponies in like this! She’s not even military!”

Bravo settled back into his seat with exaggerated informality. He flipped the folio back open, pretending to be interested in whatever was on its first pages. “I was just taking a healthy interest in the ponies you spend time with,” he said. “You’re traveling out beyond Agate’s borders. I couldn’t risk you spending time with someone unqualified.”

Amie kept behind Ivy now. She had no place in this argument, and no way to say anything without upsetting one or the other. Besides, Ivy was obviously right.

“So are you done? Figured out she’s not a secret changeling spy?” Ivy rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “All you had to do is walk down to the gym and see if she was qualified. She’s done more than most ponies on your base.”

“You can go, Rain Fly,” he said. “Sorry about your morning plans, Ivy. But I won’t apologize for caring about my daughter.”

Ivy groaned loudly, took Amie by the foreleg, and dragged her out the way they’d come, then down the hallway. She said nothing at all until they made it to the stairs, radiating frustration and shame.

“I should’ve known he would do that,” she said, through gritted teeth. “Sooner or later, he always has to get his nose into my life. Every single time.”

Amie nodded. “It’s no trouble. I was just afraid he would tell us we couldn’t go. He just wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing, like he said.” A lie, but it was the same lie he’d already said. Probably her safest bet.

“Of course he does. He can’t trust anypony, Rain Fly. This job is going to his head. He’s guarding the largest changeling population ever discovered, don’t you know? They could be a terrible threat to Equestria if they got loose. They could infiltrate all levels of government, or threaten the strategic iron supply…”

She rolled her eyes again. “Like those bugs even care. They have their mountain, and they’re not even trying to hide. Obviously they aren’t coming to attack Equestria.”

They left through a back door. Ponies in the base didn’t seem to care where Ivy went—they took one look at her, and kept their distance. That probably is a security risk to Equestria, having somepony who isn’t military with such free access. If a bug knew her perfectly and wanted to impersonate her, she could go anywhere she wanted.

Amie put that thought from her mind, following her friend out their usual route to the family barracks up against the fence, where her own quarters were located. “Still want to go up today?” she asked, as soon as they reached the still-open door.

Ivy had a room on the officer’s floor, and a relatively large space to herself. Two packs waited at the bench in front, already packed for their day trip. “We could just skip the morning workout and go out.”

Ivy levitated one pack up into the air, then dropped it again. It was too much weight for her to easily lift with her magic, one of those weaknesses that Amie had picked up on over their time together.

The unicorn could barely use magic to levitate small objects. Anything big or complicated, and she was useless. “Nah. Feels like there’s a shadow over our hike now. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Amie agreed, without hesitation.

“Before he wakes up, so he can’t stop us,” Ivy said. “And… not the day trip. I don’t want the warm-up. Let’s go straight for the lake.”

“That’s—” It was an incredibly bad idea. She could hardly make the plausible argument that she knew Ivy was ready for something more challenging if she hadn’t tested with her first. But how could she say no without sounding more like a counselor and less like a friend?

How much longer do I need to hold down this job? If things were going well, this was her brother’s first day of research. She still didn’t have a good conception for how many bits Bud paid her—was it enough to pay for a trip to Canterlot yet?

“You sure?” she asked. “I’ve looked at the map. It’s a rough trail. Over a thousand meters of elevation gain, rough terrain—“

“You don’t think I can do it either?” Ivy demanded, turning her glare on her. “Is that what it was really about? He was just trying to make you turn into another tutor? No more doing anything fun, let’s go to the library today? Wouldn’t I enjoy reading about the noble unicorn houses again?”

“Buck no!” she said. Amie rested her foreleg on Ivy’s shoulder. “I haven’t known you that long, but—your dad doesn’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not in the military. If you wanna go, we’ll go. Just… make sure you tell whoever you have to tell, because that trip is definitely an overnight. We’ll need to add a tent and some sleeping bags to our kit.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ivy said. “The quartermaster likes me. He’ll give us what we need. I’ll find someone to tell my dad we’re camping. We don’t have to get specific about where, do we?”

Amie grinned back. “I won’t if you won’t.”

Instead of the usual workout, they went to the pugil arena for the next few hours, sparring with padded rods. Here was something Ivy was much better than Amie. She could handle archery, rifles, and even shotguns—but physically martial arts were far outside Amie’s area of interest.

At least they had been. She couldn’t say no or act disinterested, so all she had to fall back on was an endless well of determination, where she kept climbing up to get beaten to a pulp over and over again. The other pony wasn’t usually trying to hurt her that badly. But today Ivy let her anger out in earnest, spinning the practice weapons around so hard they actually sent Amie flying.

By the time they left for a quick lunch, Amie ached all over and felt that her body was made of bruises. She was improving at it—and more importantly, her partner felt much happier. Getting all her anger out really made a difference for her. That, and the important ego-boost that came from being better at something.

“You’re a quick learner, Rain Fly,” she said over lunch. “Soon you’ll be fighting alongside the guard, you’ll see.”

I hope not. Given what the guard were doing to keep her friends trapped in camp, she hoped that never happened. Finally she waved goodbye, promising to meet her early the next morning for their camping trip.

Amie had a little time to get back home to clean up and change. Not her clothes, since obviously the ponies didn’t wear any. She had some bits now, and more coming in all the time. But that didn’t mean she would spend them on things that they didn’t really need, not when her friends at camp were starving and every day of delay was potentially disastrous to someone.

In the end, she chose the pegasus she had created while experimenting with Tailslide. None of the guard had actually seen that mare, so surely that would be safe enough. It wasn’t like she was trying to get back onto the base.

Her brother returned a little before sundown, right as the closing bell whistled. He had a cloth book bag slung over his shoulder, and several heavy volumes inside. “Amie, you have to see what I found!”

He deposited the bag onto the table with some difficulty, grinning at her. “The librarian was so helpful, and I—”

Amie hadn’t stopped. In fact, she was all the way to the door. “Sorry Sunny, I’ve got to go back out. There’s someone waiting for me. You can tell me all about it when I get back!”

“Sunny… right. Feels weird hearing you say it.” Her brother nodded weakly, then waved her off. “They’re making you work nights now?”

“Not exactly. I’ll explain when I get back.” And more, she would need to tell him about her planned absence for the next few days. But that could all wait until she got back. Amie hurried down the stairs, then out across Agate. She’d chosen the second-worst time to be making a trip, unfortunately. Instead of heading to work, everypony was on their way home.

If only she had learned to actually use the feathery wings on her side by now, the way many of the other pegasus ponies had. They didn’t walk home so much as fly over it all, cutting directly to where they wanted to go, without worrying about traffic. But not Tailslide—he’d been on the ground when she found him last.

He was on the ground now, lingering outside the foundry just where he said. His emotions had changed noticeably since the last time. There was plenty of exhaustion, weighing him down after a difficult day of work. But instead of hopeless defeat, there was something else under the surface. Eagerness, anticipation. When he turned toward her, there was recognition, and a flare of relief so profound that Amie tasted it from a dozen meters away.

He couldn’t gallop towards her, not as visibly worn-down as he was. He made his way over, exhausted. “Amie. You’re really here. I thought…” He glanced nervously around, silent. “Not safe. Do you have somewhere we could go? I, uh—don’t. Or I did last night, but there are no clouds in the sky, so…”

“I have no idea what you mean.” She flung her forelegs around his neck in a brief, tight hug. “What happened to you, Tailslide? What are you doing out here?”

There was a hard shell over the surface of intense pain, and she broke it. He sniffed, his voice cracked. “Thought you were dead. They found… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Amie was already overflowing with emotion, how could they expect her to hold so much without exploding? Could changelings gain weight from being overfed?

His relief actually did bring pressure in her chest. He’d been so worried about her, the kind of worry that only came from real love underneath. Here she was, with somewhere safe to stay and a job she could actually do, while Tailslide…

“You look so thin,” she said. “Know anywhere in town with large portions? We can talk over dinner.”

“Y-yeah.” He broke away, gesturing. “There’s this buffet on Fifth. I don’t have the bits to eat somewhere like that anymore. Saving what they give me for a train ticket out of here.”

“I’ve got bits,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” Those bits had another purpose—but she couldn’t look at Tailslide without feeling an empathetic ache in her chest. Too bad she couldn’t just share some of the emotions she’d eaten lately, she had more than she could ever want.

Soon enough they were there, tucked into a booth near the back. Amie had only a glass of water for herself, but left Tailslide to get the full package. He clearly needed it.

The restaurant was busy that night, packed full of prospectors and other boisterous visitors. Their own conversation fell easily by the wayside, overpowered by so many others. Unfortunately the proximity also meant she had to smell him. Gone was that powerful, enticing scent of ozone and sweat, replaced with unwashed bodies and harsh chemicals. The close quarters did him no favors.

She was right to think he was hungry, too. He barely looked up until he’d finished two full plates, and started on his third.

“It looks like you’re out on the street, Tailslide. What happened to you?”

He looked up from his plate, ears folding flat over his head. “Nopony will rent to me,” he said, defeated. “When you’re on the commander’s shitlist, everyone knows he’ll give them trouble too. I wouldn’t suggest eating with me if you were… real. People will see us together.”

Amie rolled her eyes. “Buck who sees. What happened?”

Tailslide settled into his chair, looking distant, haunted. “I told them the truth.”

Chapter 31

"I told Commander Path what happened," he said, glancing nervously around the restaurant. There didn't seem to be anyone paying particular attention to their table, but that was no guarantee. Even if no one had followed Tailslide, they might still recognize him. It must be inconvenient not being able to change his appearance like that. "The truth about—you, your brother, the place you came from."

Even spoken so vaguely, she sat up in her seat, relaxing her mind so she could feel at the emotions of everyone nearby. She felt nothing out of the ordinary—no sudden burst of shock or fear. If anyone had heard that, they didn't know what it meant.

"He didn't like that?" she guessed.

Tailslide leaned across the table, taking her foreleg. The intimacy wouldn't be something she resisted, except for the smell. He'd been working so long that she could smell nothing but sweat and industrial chemicals. So unnatural compared to the way he was before. "He wanted to reassign me on the spot. Thought I was hysterical after losing my partner, wanted to get me away from changelings."

"You're still here."

"Not with the guard, though." He leaned back, staring out the window. "He tried to get me forced back to Canterlot for evaluation—but he accepted my resignation before he signed the order, so he didn't have the authority to send me anywhere. Once he realized..." He didn't finish. But he didn't have to, Amie could see the results.

"When Commander Path says things, everypony listens. You're supposed to be gone. But why would you stay?"

His ears folded, wings slumping limply to his sides. "I had to know if you made it out okay. Nopony would tell me anything about the search. I know it ended about a week later, but I didn't hear if they found anyone. And there's that whole camp of ponies who need help. I wasn't sure what I would do, but somepony had to act. If you were gone, that just left me."

Even desperately hungry and covered with dirt, she could feel his determination, his selflessness. All that love focused on her—Amie would just explode if it kept up. She nodded tearfully, resting her foreleg on his. She didn't care about the dirt. "Well, we made it. We're doing things to try and help the camp, but you're probably safer if I don't tell you what those are."

He nodded. "Right. Probably. Of course. I know it was stupid to stay out here. I should've known there was... nothing I could do. I'm not Fancypants, I don't have a small fortune and friends all across the government. I'm just one volunteer. I was never going to convince anyone. Maybe I should just head back after all. Move back with the family in Cloudsdale."

He made to stand, but Amie caught him, holding his leg with hers. "Not like that you aren't. Let me pay for this, then come with me. It's freezing out there."

Tailslide looked like he wanted to argue the point. But with as hard as he'd been worked, he was far too exhausted to fight her. She left the bits on the table, and they headed out into the night. She kept her mind alert for anypony who might be following them, but felt none.

Commander Path might hate Tailslide and want to get rid of him, but he wasn't paranoid enough to have him tailed all the time. She led him across town, towards the part she tried to avoid walking through after dark. But she had an escort now. He might be filthy and exhausted, but Tailslide still had the build of a soldier under it all.

He still had the attitude, too. "You shouldn't take me," he said. "Wherever you're staying, they might get rid of you if they find out I'm here. I don't want you and your brother out on the street because of me."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want you on the street because of me, Tailslide. Besides, they'll probably just think you're a client. They'll be happy that you're acting even more pathetic, hiring me."

"Client," he repeated. His optimism faded, replaced with the familiar undercurrent of crushing despair. "What are you doing to survive, Amie? You're not—"

"No," she said, exasperated. "We don't have to leave town." She tugged him down a nearby alley, with a straight shot to the back of the Rent-a-Friend. Low fog filled the streets, and her pony eyes had to squint to see through the shadow. But she managed without tripping. "I'd go into the wild over doing what you're thinking. I'm practically a survivalist by now. I'd build my own shelter and live off the land, foraging berries and hunting game."

Except she couldn't eat the berries anymore. They'd just be a seasoning she couldn't taste for the game she barely wanted to eat.

Tailslide laughed. "You'd be perfect for the guard. Commander Path is all about being rugged and self-sufficient, spending days out on patrol. Learning the mountain so the changelings can't use it against us."

The ultimate cover, working for the guards keeping everyone trapped. Once they had enough people who could use their powers, they could slowly fill the local ranks, until the guards were a purely ceremonial position doing nothing to keep changelings trapped.

It was an interesting plan, assuming they couldn't come up with anything better. Digging tunnels, maybe? Could changelings do that?

They reached her building without much trouble. She felt a few eyes on them here or there, ponies lurking in shadows and dark corners. But there were two of them, and one was tall and muscular.

She unlocked the stairwell with her key, and locked it just as quickly. "Showers first," she said, gesturing for him. "I don't know what chemicals they use, but you're not getting any of them onto my sheets. They're pristine." Would Amie get in trouble for letting him in? He wasn't paying the Rent-a-Friend... but couldn't she have her own friends? Her board was coming out of her pay, so that made the apartment hers.

"I think I've heard about this place..." he finally said. "The foreman comes here on weekends. It's a... friendship rental. Right?"

"The concept is absurd," she agreed. "But yeah. We have the building to ourselves. My brother will be asleep by now. And if anyone comes this way..." She tapped the side of her head, grinning mischievously. "Unless they're as stoic as Spock, I'll know they're coming."

He didn't react, focusing all his energy on making it up the stairs. She chose the first door, the apartment meant for Rain Fly. Her brother had taken unofficial ownership of her room, making this one the place where she spent most of her time. She'd adjusted some of the posters over time, adding some plushies and removing others.

She glanced back at him, wincing at the smell Tailslide brought in with him. The thought of letting him anywhere near her bed, smearing all those adorable toys Bud brought in with grease and slime... no way.

Tailslide had the good sense to lock the door behind him. Then he flicked on the lights and stopped dead in the doorway, taking it all in. His eyes moved from the game tables to the shelves of books. "I don't know what I imagined you would be like at home," he began. Maybe it was the food, or maybe it was the heat, but he already sounded healthier.

"The rugged changeling who can climb mountains, stitch a dying pegasus back together, and convince a whole town she's a soldier—this is a lot of pink for you."

Amie glared at him, then changed, shedding her pony persona altogether. Shame she hadn't had the time to figure out how to look human yet, that probably would've been even better.

The result was still enough of a shock that his mouth fell open. There was surprise, but none of the disgust she was afraid of. "It's for a job. The owner here only has me on one assignment, but it's basically full time. But I don't really have to act—this stuff makes me feel at home. This is basically the girl I was maybe—three years ago. Before I started EMT work.

She caught him by the leg, then dragged him over to the bathroom. Amie wasn't sure if the plumbing worked in any other suite besides hers and this one, since there were no characters living in them yet. The whole room was floored with tile and covered with mirrors, with a whole wall of spigots on the far side.

"I guess there's... nothing for you to take off." She trailed off awkwardly, gesturing at the taps. "Just don't leave this room until you don't smell like an industrial plant."

He made his way in, glaring down at her. She'd forgotten how intimidating that size-difference could be, when a pony was standing so close. "If that's what matters to you, stay. Use your magic or something."

She blushed. Maybe Tailslide was the right person to give her that kind of invitation—he was strong, dedicated, and faithful. All it took was a little makeshift first aid in the night, and he'd sacrificed his whole career to help her. All this time he'd been searching for her, sleeping out in the cold and working at a factory somewhere.

Amie's magic flashed, and she was Rain Fly. That cut down on the height difference, made her feel a little less like she was talking to someone too young. Besides, being Rain Fly made Amie slip right into her personality. She puffed up her chest, got right in his face, flicking her tail to either side.

Changing into a pony affected his reaction too—he didn't have to suppress being intimidated by a unicorn.

That hurt—but she could understand. She wouldn't find a bug attractive either. "Tell me again," she ordered. "But you better be sure of what you're doing. I'm dangerous, remember?"

She slipped past him, then turned the taps on one after another. She never used them all like that, and the sudden billowing steam fought against the cold air and won. Soap and hot water also banished the smell, even if he wasn't clean yet. It helped.

He looked back through the fog. She knew before he did when his feelings changed. Suddenly there was longing.He hadn't seen a friendly face in weeks, and now here she was offering comfort. "Changelings eat love," he said. "Does that mean I'm in danger?"

She giggled. "If you're gonna stand there, at least stand in the water." She shoved him, the same way she'd done several times that night. He backed into the water, but not as far as she expected. He stopped, and she was suddenly pushing on a brick wall, immoveable.

Despite his wounds, Tailslide was tougher than he looked. "If you need it," he said.

She met his eyes. "I don't need it," she said, levitating her harshest soap off the shelf. Better start with that, if she wanted any hope of getting the grease out of his fur. "I don't need a pity boyfriend. If I didn't take anyone to the dance, it's just because no one met my standards."

She sprayed him with soap, everywhere but right into his eyes. "Then when do you eat?" he asked. She should be able to tell exactly what he was feeling—too bad her own emotions were so tangled up that she couldn't make sense of them. Was that Tailslide who was desperate for affection after spending weeks lost and alone in a world he barely understood?

She shrugged. "All the time. Your gratitude when I bought you dinner. My brother's excitement when he got his transformation working right. Ivy's relief that she has someone who would take her side over her dad’s. Your..." She trailed off, grinning. "You think I'm pretty!"

She had felt a little of that from some of her older campers, the ones about to graduate. But no camp would be complete without a few awkward crushes. Only this was coming from a pony. A little more magic she didn't have room for, as delicious as any of the others.

He looked away, into the hot water. "I do. But right now... I'd rather just have the company. Stay, please. I've been alone enough lately."

She stayed.

Chapter 32

Amie stayed with him through the night. She helped with the painful preening process Tailslide had been putting off for weeks, watching as he tore out broken and damaged feathers, and put the rest in order. They talked over tea, then he finally collapsed into her bed of stuffed toys and pillows.

She stayed with him for another hour, until he'd finally drifted off to sleep. She never dozed off for more than a few minutes before she was ready to get up again, brimming with energy.

She watched him for a little longer, her mind racing. She could do a lot worse than Tailslide—how much braver and more dedicated could a pony be? When Stella Lacus had first arrived in Equestria, she would've been disgusted with herself for even considering...

She still remembered that she should be bothered, the same way she knew the color of the sky and remembered what her parents' faces looked like. But she could no longer explain why it would've bothered her. Ponies were weird. She was a bug; she was even weirder.

That was the real root of the problem, the reason she hadn't pressed him. She was a bug, one of the monsters Equestria hated and feared. Tailslide had already lost enough by sticking up for her kind. If they ended up in a relationship, they might think he was totally subverted, maybe throw him right into jail when she went.

Tailslide had already lost enough.

Maybe one day she would know what it was like to have someone hold her in their wings and tell her it was okay. But if that happened today, it would be a lie. Stella Lacus wasn't okay. Her campers were starving, and winter was coming. Maybe once she heard back from Pachu'a. If they started trading with camp, and food was coming in, then she could relax. They were adults, they could take care of themselves.

Amie got up, and went to pack for her hike. She didn't change back—didn't want to think of what Tailslide would feel if he woke up to a bug. So she had to feel her way around in the dark, levitating in anything that looked vaguely useful. Ivy would have most of what they needed when she got there.

Morning came with the whistle. Tailslide shot out of bed, eyes wild. He caught himself in a hover, scanning the room. "How did I—" He stopped, then saw her. Amie sat in a nearby bean-bag chair, reading to the faint glow of her horn. "You didn't sleep?"

"Bugs don't," she answered, snapping it closed. She tossed the satchel over her shoulder, then bounced over to him. "Listen. I'm camping with my client these next few days. But I want to see you when I get back. When are you flying home?"

He stopped right beside her, close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her face. "I'm not leaving until Equestria agrees to help the changelings trapped in the isolation zone," he said. "That means I'll be here. Well, not here." He glanced nervously to the window. "Working. Saving. Figuring something out."

She wrapped one foreleg around his, holding him in place. "Spend the night here. There's a balcony—just fly in after it gets dark. I'll leave it unlocked. If Bud comes in, tell him you're my boyfriend. Nothing in my contract says I don't get one."

"Lie," he said. "I don't like lying. That's the whole reason I'm staying in the first place. I wouldn't forget what I saw, and adopt the same stupid lie we're all supposed to believe. I won't lie about that either."

Amie leaned up to him, then kissed him. Not as long as she wanted to—but they both had places to be. She let go of him a second later, beaming. "It's only a lie if you say no. I'm serious, stay here. If you wait until after dark, you can go over to my brother's room. Tell him who you are, he knows about you. He'll share our groceries so you can eat."

Tailslide wasn't stunned like he had been the night before. His coat was crisp, his eyes alert. He reached over to her, touched her shoulder. "Okay, Amie. I'll stay. Why are you going camping?"

She whinnied in protest, retreating from him. She was supposed to be there in a few minutes, and she still had to cross Agate. Ivy wanted to leave before her father could tell them no. "It's a long story. But the client, she's a good kid. Well—dad's the client, but that's a story for later." She tossed her satchel onto her shoulder, then waved again. "Follow me out the stairs, but wait until I'm gone. And—don't describe your girlfriend looking like me. If anypony asks, I'm a pegasus. Commander Path does not need to learn the stallion he hates is dating his daughter's best friend."

She darted out the door before he could argue the point, then right down the stairs. There was no time to check on her brother—he'd just have to make do on his own for another day. He wasn't helpless now—so long as he could stay a unicorn, ponies wouldn't give him any trouble.

Amie galloped her energetic way across town. She barely noticed as she dodged her way between the miners and factory workers, busy with their daily drudgery. She was probably better off moving things slow anyway. She had no idea how relationships worked in this world. Even if her mind had adjusted to the way she looked, there could be all kinds of other customs she didn't understand. Maybe Ivy could tell her, if she could find a subtle enough way to ask.

She flashed her keychain at the gate, and found Ivy just inside, standing over a pair of military-issue saddlebags. She had a little pile of cans left over, though there wasn't a lot of room left to put them. She looked up as Amie approached, relieved. "Almost finished getting ready. I was about to search my dad's office for you all over again."

Amie nodded. "Sorry! I planned on being earlier before, but I got a little distracted. We still beat the sunrise by a few minutes!" She settled her satchel into the open place on the heavier-looking bag, then fastened it closed. "Leave out those last few cans. I don't eat much when I'm on the trail."

"You don't eat much ever," Ivy said. She fastened the saddlebag closed with her mouth, then crawled into it without magic. "Are you sure you don't want these?"

"Positive." Amie urged her towards the gate. "If I'm wrong, I'll forage." They didn't bother bringing a few extra cans to the quartermaster, but walked straight back out the gates the way they'd come. Ivy broke into a trot, and Amie kept pace with her, despite the gear.

Amie could keep up the pace for hours, if she had to. Her body might look like a pony, but the strength she needed was in the magic she ate. She was always full. Fortunately they didn't keep up that pace for the whole trip. As soon as they were outside Agate's walls, they slowed to a stop, and Ivy took out the map.

She levitated it in front of her, only a little shaky in the air. "So if I'm reading this right, we go left at the first fork, but instead of continuing up to Motherlode, we'll turn west, away from the Changeling Isolation Zone. The trailhead should be another half mile that way."

Amie took her turn with the map, nodding after a short time. "That's right! Wish I could take credit for you knowing how to do that one, but this is all you."

Ivy giggled, folding the map closed. "At least I learned something after all the years of my life I've wasted with tutors. Too bad for my dad it wasn't any of the skills he wanted."

They walked together up the trail, passing the occasional cart of ore or traveling miner going one way or the other. Amie kept an eye on their feelings, but there was never anything dangerous. Equestria was a friendlier place than the nation she left behind. Besides, anyone who attacked them would be in for quite the surprise—so long as she could get her pack open in time.

They spoke as they walked, wandering from topic to topic until they reached the first fork. There was a break in the trees on all sides as they ascended a ridge, with a clear view in both directions. Ivy turned east without hesitation, but Amie stopped on the rocks, squinting off the other direction. There was the black asphalt of the highway, cutting in a black streak straight up the mountain. She could make out the gas station's sign clearly, and the glitter of reflective glass from further up. Maybe that was the greenhouse, or a solar panel?

She strained her emotional senses, reaching for any survivors who might be there. Maybe she would find one of her boys out foraging, and she could pass a message back?

She had so much extra magic, so much that it didn't even feel rare. She would feel guilty about wasting it if she knew the secret of bottling it, but Amie hadn't figured that out yet.

Besides, she'd still have to get it to her kids, even if she could. She was separated, unable to do a damn thing to help them. She might as well be a thousand miles away.

"Worried about the changelings?" Ivy asked, coming up onto the ridge beside her. "The whole reason I'm here. Monsters living among us, plotting to strike."

Amie opened her eyes again, looking sidelong at her. "You think he's right? They're as bad as everypony says?"

Ivy's eyes widened. "You don't? I heard hundreds of ponies died in Canterlot."

She should say nothing. But Amie wasn't exactly making a lot of wise choices, lately. "Look onto the mountain there. See that black line, with the shiny green sign by it?"

Ivy shielded her face with a hoof, leaning forward. After another second, she nodded. "Yeah. So what?"

"The changelings who invaded Canterlot didn't build, they just took. These bugs built themselves a home. I think they might not all be the same. Like—ponies. We have tribes, pegasi and earth ponies and unicorns. What if changelings had tribes too?"

Ivy touched her shoulder, then turned away. "I never thought about it like that. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. But if those bugs aren't bad, why wouldn't they try to talk to us by now?"

She shrugged. "You think your dad would listen? The guard would probably kill them on sight. Once they crossed the river, they'd be dead without even knowing why."

The unicorn whistled. "I guess... Is it wrong if I hope they're the same ones? At least that way it's bad creatures trapped here, instead of someone who just doesn't know better."

"Guess so." She didn't turn away, staring out over the horizon. Her kids were so far away, but there was something out there. A shadow she recognized, just out of sight. But maybe—no. It didn't matter how hard she stretched. Something held back her magic, a barrier she would have to find a way to break.

Amie followed Ivy away from the cliff, then up the trail.

Chapter 33

It was a long, difficult way to their destination. The maps were right to warn them about how challenging it would be. Ponies without wings would be far better off finding another way to climb. Equestria had to have other waterfalls worth hiking to, and other secrets hidden in the trees.

Amie might've turned around, if only Ivy would let her. The unicorn only grew more determined as they hiked further, ignoring her growing exhaustion and the growing number of scrapes and bumps they took along the way.

"Dad thinks I couldn't make it in the guard," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Wants me moving back to Canterlot. What does he know?"

They might not have made it, if it wasn't for Amie's magic. She wasn’t able to fly, but she could still lift things. More than once, she turned her horn on Ivy, grabbing a hoof before she could go tumbling back the way they'd come.

Compared to the trails she sometimes took with human campers; this one was only moderately challenging. But those campers were primates who could climb rocks with their hands if they had to. Hooves made them more stable, but just didn't have the same grip.

Amie had to burn magic all the way, but eventually they reached the top—an outcrop of dark rock, then a sudden clearing filled with swaying grass and a lake of crystal water. She made sure she was behind Ivy when she made it up, nudging her the rest of the way with a gentle hoof. She hung behind, waiting for Ivy to offer a leg down to her, rather than levitating up on her own.

Ivy squealed with delight, and Amie joined her. It didn't matter if her coat was soaked in sweat, and her muscles would be aching for days—they'd made it! "Couldn't make it in the guard..." she whispered. "Wait until he hears about this! We'll carve our names in a rock, set it by the water there... proof. I made it!"

Amie winced, but she was too tired to sit up just yet. She lay still, breathing heavily. "D-do you think... that's a good idea?"

Ivy jerked forward into a sitting position, nudging Amie with her foreleg. "He's been saying my whole life that I didn't belong here. I wasn't strong enough—only the best unicorns could make it in the royal guard. If I'd been a pegasus, that would be different. Even an earth pony could dig ditches. But a unicorn needs to be a master spellcaster..." Ivy rehearsed, her tone stretching more exaggerated with every word.

"So maybe I'm not an earth pony. I don't have the magic strength. I can still have just as much determination as anypony else! The princesses would be lucky to have me wherever I'm working for the Crown! Wouldn't they?" She met Amie's eyes, staring expectantly. Waiting for the obvious answer.

Ivy's father would've seen this as an ideal moment to turn her away from a path he didn't want for her. But why should that be Amie's place to begin with? Why would it be Commander Path's?

Amie nodded. "They would be. No question. That doesn't mean it's the place you would be happiest, though. There are other ways to do all this, besides the military. You don't have to be part of the royal guard to adventure."

"Maybe not, but I'm not sure where else I could go," Ivy said. "How would you know? You're the same age as I am!"

Amie grinned, then rose. She'd done plenty of hiking in her life, and this trip was definitely up there with the most interesting destinations she'd visited. The lake looked clear and perfect for swimming, with the promised waterfall not much further. It would be a frightful jump into the water without wings—but even if Amie had them, she couldn't use them. So she wasn't missing much.

There was something else about the place, something she couldn't quite put a finger on. She felt something here, off in the bushes. Emotions? "I worked at an adventure camp. It wasn't much for a job, about two thousand for the whole summer after they took out my room and board. But I got to do all kinds of awesome stuff like this. Hiking, climbing, boating, shooting. You shouldn't dismiss it!"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you had fun. But saying you got two thousand bits for the whole summer isn't really selling me." She walked past Amie towards the water, cutting directly across the gently-swaying grass. With as clear and refreshing as the water looked, she could hardly blame her.

Bugs could swim, they'd learned that back at Stella Lacus. It left their wings feeling soft and fragile until they dried—but since she didn't have those right now, she didn't have to worry.

The lake had a shore of black sand leading into the water. Amie could tell just by looking it would be icy cold, and she stopped Ivy before she could get in. "Wait. The sun will be down in an hour—we should have a fire and a tent up before going in. Trust me, that water is freezing."

Ivy rolled her eyes, then lowered one hoof into the water. She shivered, yanking back almost as quickly. "Buck! Have you been up here before?"

"Not here, but my camp was in the mountains too." She shrugged out of her saddlebags, setting them down beside her companion's. "Tent, or gather firewood?"

Ivy's horn flickered, then went out. "Firewood. All those little stakes and lines are better for somepony with good levitation."

She turned her back on Amie, setting off towards the nearby grove of trees. They were evergreens, pines covered in vivid growth. It was still too early in the year for snow, despite the chilling wind. That meant they might actually find something flammable. "Careful with the slope!" Amie called. "Might drop off unexpectedly!"

The other unicorn nodded, walking slowly away. The tall grass soon concealed her from sight. It couldn't stop Amie from watching her emotions. If anything changed, she'd know it.

She occupied herself with the usual camp setup, the same as she would've done for any overnight. There was no need to hold back her magic when Ivy wasn't around to watch and feel self-conscious. She picked a flat patch of ground, set up the tent, then started clearing a place to make a fire-pit.

She was just about finished lining it with rocks when she heard the scream.

The underlying emotions came a few seconds later—a brief surge of shock, followed by terror.

Amie was already running in her direction by then, cutting straight across the tall grass. As she did, she realized what she should've from the beginning—she was sensing other minds. The emotions were just incredibly weak, so much that she barely felt them over the pony's burning pride and satisfaction at their victorious conquest.

Seconds later she reached the trees. Ivy stood beside a fallen bundle of wood, staring down at another camp.

The tent was larger and more sophisticated than the one they'd brought, a human dome tent with the standard cross-pole design and dark green fabric. The door was open, revealing a collection of standard survival fare. A propane stove lay on its side, with a solar lantern glowing so faintly within that it was barely visible even over the orange sunset glow.

Of course it wasn't the tech that terrified Ivy. It was the pair of changelings, laying just within.

Amie felt a stab of pain as she looked, and recognized both of them. That was Rick and Beth, from her hunting group. They were both shriveled and sunken, with a worn look visible on their shiny black bodies. Beth's eyes were closed, her chest barely rising with her breathing. Rick had one eye open, staring at Ivy.

"There are changelings up here!" Ivy whispered, backing towards her. "We have to run, Amie! They're about to attack!"

Soon she was behind her, body crouched low in preparation for a desperate flight. If you try to run back down the trail we climbed to get here...

"They're not going to attack," Amie said flatly, advancing towards the camp. Maybe if this was Garcia, she could've turned around and played along, and left him to his fate. But not her kids, not ever. "They're dying, Ivy. They can barely move."

The unicorn's fear ebbed, from terror to discomfort. "Oh. That's..." She tilted her head to the side, confused. "But they're our enemies, aren't they? This is why Agate Base exists, to stop them from escaping!"

Amie kept going. Her companion didn't follow, so that now they were at least twenty feet apart. Amie stopped outside the tent, though she was very close now. Almost close enough to reach inside and touch her struggling kids.

"Maybe we are," Amie agreed. "But do you really think we should just leave them to die? Is being born a bug enough of a crime for that?"

Ivy grunted, settling uncomfortably onto her rump. "I don't know, Rain Fly! But what are we supposed to do about it? How would we even know what's wrong with them?"

"I'm an EMT," Amie shot back. "A doctor. Gallop over and get my satchel, Ivy. Hurry, please. I'm counting on you."

Her friend rocked back and forth, making another series of unhappy horse noises. "If you're sure—"

"Yes!" Amie yelled. She couldn't keep pretending, not now. She'd spent two weeks with these kids, then an eternity. She'd met their parents, heard Rick talking about how his older brother picked on him, and how Beth was self-conscious that she wasn't as pretty as everyone else her age, and that she was too interested in "boy stuff."

She'd spent the first night of Beth's camp telling stories for their cabin, until she felt safe enough to fall asleep. "I'm not losing a goddamn one of my kids, Ivy! Bring me that satchel, now!"

Maybe it was her commanding words, or the desperation in her voice. Whatever the reason, Ivy turned and galloped off, back the way she'd come.

"W-h-y?" Rick asked. His mouth opened and closed, exposing sharp teeth. "Help?"

Could she tell him? Her campers were smart, but these two were also starving and delirious. If they said anything now...

"Because it's right," she said. "Hold on. I have something that will help you. I need you to stay calm and trust me, okay?"

His face twitched, almost a nod. "A...mie. Kn-knew you..."

Shit. He figured it out. "Don't tell the pony," she whispered. "I'm undercover. If she finds out, we're all screwed. I don't even know what Commander Path would do if he found out I was—" She trailed off, feeling the unmistakable presence of Ivy cutting back across the field. Her fear was entirely gone now, replaced with determination, with a faint undercurrent of resentment.

She arrived a few seconds later, tossing the satchel down beside Amie. "I would've helped, Rain Fly," she said. "We're the good guys. We don't let creatures die if we don't have to."

Amie upended the bag completely, tossing it out onto the ground at her hooves. There were a few camping tools, her pocket knife, the handgun wrapped in cloth. She ignored that, and the first-aid kit, focusing instead on the canteen Pachu'a had given them.

They'd never even found out whether Wes could drink it or not—he'd taken one look at the glowing goo, and decided on salad instead. Amie lifted it into the air, levitating it over to Beth, and unscrewing the cap.

"You don't want the kit?" Ivy asked, tilting her head to the side. "It's a little weird, but isn't that a first-aid kit?"

She nodded, then braced against Beth's chest, rolling her onto her back. She tilted her head back, opening her mouth. "This is more serious than first aid. They need my... emergency healing potion."

Ivy whistled. "You got the quartermaster to give you a regenerative? He's not gonna be happy you gave it to the enemy."

Amie tilted the canteen back, dribbling a few glowing drops down Beth’s throat. The result was immediate—her eyes shot open, her breathing went from shallow to deep and ragged. Her mouth moved, but Amie just pressed her down, one hoof gently on her chest. "It's okay, Beth," she whispered, in the same voice she'd used on her first night in Stella Lacus. "You're not alone. Everything's gonna be just fine."

Tears streamed down her face. Her mouth moved, but Amie didn't let her speak. She tilted the canteen back, letting her drink greedily. She gave her about half the bottle, then pulled away.

Rick was watching her as she approached, eyes unblinking. Maybe he could sense what she'd done for Beth, or maybe he just trusted her. Either way, he accepted the bottle without complaint, and drank until it emptied.

Chapter 34

Amie had to carry them to the fire after that. Technically she had to build the fire first, then beg for Ivy's help to carry her unconscious campers one at a time. But despite her initial fear, she helped Amie lift the bugs onto her shoulders one after another.

They were so light compared to the unicorn body she'd taken that she could lift even Rick easily. By the time the fire was built, the two of them were sleeping peacefully beside it. Really sleeping, deeper than anything Amie had felt from another changeling. Whether that would last for a half hour the way it usually went for her, or maybe longer, she couldn't say.

Ivy sat on an overturned log, staring blankly at the fire. Despite all their eager conversations about what they would have for dinner up here, and how cool it would be to cook out under the stars, she didn't touch the cans. Amie did it, as much to keep herself busy as for her friend's well-being.

She made only one bowl of savory, vegetarian stew, and offered it to Ivy. Despite her complaints, she took it, and ate the whole thing. She'd still climbed halfway to hell, after all.

"We did it," Ivy said, when she had finally emptied the bowl, and settled it silently in front of her. "Kinda... spoils everything I had planned. Jumping off the waterfall, leaving a trophy for one of my dad's stupid guards to find up here. Telling him how we made it up here without breaking a sweat. The look on his face when he's forced to let me into the guard..."

She trailed off, staring down at the resting bugs. She was silent for almost a minute before continuing. "They look so peaceful like that. Hideous, but—I can almost forget they're monsters."

Amie still sat beside Ivy, with her campers in the grass opposite her. They'd dragged over the oversized human sleeping bags for the task, so they weren't on open ground. But so long as they kept the fire burning, she wasn't worried about them freezing out here. "Remember what I said about different kinds of changelings?"

She gestured at Rick across the fire. "The ones who invaded Canterlot are blue. These ones are green. Notice the difference?"

Ivy levitated a sharp stick, and poked at the fire. When she spoke, it was a low whisper, barely audible over the wind and the crackling fire. "I noticed the way you talked to that one. Knew her name. And you gave them a healing potion." She tossed the stick into the fire, sending up a shower of orange sparks. She stood at the same moment, along with the surge of smoke that followed.

"You aren't telling me something, Rain Fly. I want to know what it is. You're my friend—whatever it is, you can trust me. I can keep a secret, but I have to know. I deserve to know, after what I just helped you do."

Amie's heart froze in her chest. She remained perfectly still, mind reeling. This would be bad enough if it was some random pony—but this was Ivy, the commander's own daughter! If this got back to him, he might take action against Stella Lacus.

"Rain Fly," Ivy repeated, louder. "Rain Fly, I'm serious. You'd seen changelings before. You didn't run away—and you know what the Canterlot invaders looked like? Rain Fly, who are you?" She slumped into her seat, ears pressing to her head. Suspicion and anger were replaced with sudden, crushing despair. "You're with SMILE, aren't you? My father... pulled some strings, so you would follow me. Pretend to be my friend all this time. Make sure I stayed out of trouble."

Amie would've let her go on. But with every word, she felt the pony's despair grow deeper. If she let this happen, Amie wouldn't just be out of a job—she might very well do lasting damage. Ivy would never trust again.

"No!" Amie snapped, rising to her hooves. "Nothing like that, Ivy. I don't know what SMILE is, but that's nothing to do with it. I promise."

"Yeah?" Ivy looked up, tears streaming down her face. It was the first time she'd ever seen her cry so freely. But considering the pain she felt, the pony probably couldn't suppress it no matter how much she wanted to. "Why should I believe you? Expert climber, explorer, way better at magic than you want me to think. You know state secrets about Equestria's most dangerous enemy. You want to explain that a different way?"

Amie reached out, touching her shoulder consolingly. The mare shoved her back, hard enough that Amie almost fell over. She rose, meeting her eyes at last. "My real name is Amie!" she screamed, so loud that Ivy stopped short.

She wiped her eyes, staring. "Your... what?"

"You want to know the truth, Ivy? The real truth?" She settled one leg on her shoulder, so forceful that she couldn't pull away. "Promise me you won't tell. Really promise me. Mean it when you say it!"

Ivy didn't move, didn't speak, not for several seconds. Then she nodded. Amie felt her sincerity, but that was no real proof of anything. Even if she meant her silence in that second, what would she be feeling in a few minutes? What about a few weeks?

But there was no way out now. Her friends were too smart for her after all. "My name is Amie," she said again. "My real name. It sounds weird to you because it's not a pony name, it's from another world."

She gestured out into the night, at the faint amber lights of camp glowing on the next peak over. She could see them clearly from up here, even trace the trail that ran from camp mess down to each of the living areas. "That mountain you're looking at. It's not a changeling isolation zone. It's a chunk of my reality, dumped into yours."

She took one step away from her then, closer to the two sleeping bugs. "Your dad didn't hire me from Equestria to watch you. If he knew what was happening, he'd probably think I was a spy, waiting for my chance to attack Equestria. But I don't want to attack anyone.I just want to live my life, and let ponies live theirs."

Silence descended on the mountain. Even the alpine wind seemed subdued, only occasionally rising over the crackling of their campfire. With each passing second, Amie was more confident she'd made a mistake. How many people would she tell the truth before someone spoke up about it? Every one of them was another potential road to ruin, even if they didn't try to destroy her.

She felt the change from Ivy first. The bitterness of resentment and regret faded, joined by something sweeter. Compassion, with a metallic tint of guilt and rebellion. Amie knew what she would say before Ivy even opened her mouth. "You're a changeling too, Rain Fly? Or... not Rain Fly. You said your name was Amie."

"Amie Blythe," she said. "I'm a changeling now. But two months ago, I was something else. Where I came from, nopony had to eat emotions or starve—there was no magic, no ponies, nothing like that. Then one day..."

She concentrated, then changed. Not into a changeling, but the same pegasus she first learned with Tailslide, the one that met him on the street. "We were here, and we were different. We couldn't eat our own food; we didn't know where we were. We have machines that can talk with anywhere in the world—but they stopped working. We called for help, and no one came."

Even choosing another pony to change into instead of herself left Ivy radiating shock. Her emotions twisted back together into a conflicted sludge; one Amie couldn't easily read. There were too many flavors of confusion and discomfort all at once, impossible to pick apart.

"Why would you hide?" she asked. "You could've asked for help! When you hide, of course ponies think you're suspicious!"

Amie laughed bitterly. "Ponies visited our mountain in secret. They didn't talk to anyone, didn't try to tell us what was going on. They scouted the place, then left us. Next time a bug tried to leave, your soldiers killed two of us while we were crossing the river. Attacked them right out of the sky, without even trying to talk." And saved my life.

Amie concentrated, then changed back into Rain Fly. Ivy might know her real identity now, but looking familiar would still make her more trustworthy. She hoped.

"They would." Ivy slumped beside the fire, staring down into the flickering orange depths. "My dad's talked about that... changelings are creatures of subterfuge. Never talk to one, and they can't get into your head."

She whimpered, wiping away tears. "How am I supposed to believe you, Amie Blythe? I want to. But all I know for sure is you're a changeling pretending to be my friend. Everything else... it could be true; it could be lies. How am I supposed to know?"

Amie nudged her in a familiar pony hug. This time, Ivy didn't shove her away. "I wasn't pretending, first of all. I lied about my name, and my family." And the company that hired me to be here in the first place. This little burst of honesty might've spared Ivy's pride from the worst beating it had taken so far. But if she ever found out Amie had been hired for this...

"But that was all. Everything I just told you is true." She let go, then levitated something out of the bag behind her. Her phone, slightly oversized compared to the scale it was supposed to have. But everything real looked big after the first night.

Ivy stared at it, floating there. "What's that supposed to do?"

Then Amie turned it on, using the little ball of foil in the case to navigate on the touchscreen. It was under half battery since the last time she'd used the solar charger. But she could hardly think of a better use than this. Finally she opened the gallery app.

"This is my family," she said, stopping on the very first photo. The family photo they'd taken, with Amie and Wes packed up for camp, outside the parking lot full of buses. "That's what I'm supposed to look like. Not a bug, not a spy. Just a girl who felt better out here in the wild than cooped up in a city."

She started scrolling through photos, feeling for Ivy's emotions. The shock came first, but that faded quickly. The horror and disgust Ivy felt for changelings, that deep instinct she'd seen in every pony who first saw them—that never came. Humans didn't elicit that same defense response.

She showed her other folders. Pictures of home, her first few nights as an EMT, an older folder of high school stuff. Her old boyfriend, that stupid birthday party at Grandma's when the rain destroyed the cake, and they ended up at the Olive Garden soaking wet.

"We're... wrong," Ivy finally said. Her shock was completely gone now, replaced with horror. "They think we're at war, but they're wrong. Buck me—you're innocent. What are we supposed to do now?"

Amie couldn't exactly make things any worse by giving her answer. She switched off the phone, tucking it away. "I've been saving up bits since I got to Agate," she said. "I hoped to have enough to one day make it back to Canterlot. There's a library filled with magic lore there... once I got there, I was gonna find a spell to send everyone back to our world."

She gestured across the fire, at the two resting bugs. One of them wasn't asleep anymore, now that she looked. Rick had one eye open, watching without moving. But his injuries weren't as serious. There was less to heal. "They're just kids—young fillies and colts, who came to camp to swim and climb and hike. Their families must be missing them terribly by now. All I want to do is send them home."

Chapter 35

Ivy didn't say anything for a long time after that. Amie waited, her whole body poised with nervous energy. She'd given this pony the power to destroy her, and by extension Wes as well, without even expending much effort. Maybe if Path got angry enough about his daughter's “subversion,” he might even push for an invasion of Camp Stella Lacus, dooming everyone there.

The pressure was enough to keep her fidgeting in place, unable to sit still. Yet she wasn't ignorant—she watched the pony's emotions, and knew before Ivy did that she had made up her mind.

"I can't believe I'm saying this..." she began. "You want to get into the Royal Archives? You'll never stand a chance. All of Canterlot has boosted their security—that's what my Dad was doing before they assigned him to watch the “non-causal” changelings. But... I know a pony who could get through it all."

She rose, leaving the fire behind and staring out into the darkness. She looked out at Stella Lacus, eyes lingering on the amber streetlights. There were no distractions out here—Agate was far below, and Motherlode had only a few weak gas lamps, easily overpowered by comparison.

"He wants me to go back. He's been suggesting it for weeks—tried by ordering it, then when I pointed out he'd have to accept my application to give me orders, he went for subtler hints instead."

She glanced back at the two resting bugs, grinning broadly. "If those weren't real changelings, I'd think this was the most elaborate plan yet. There's no depths my father wouldn't sink to manipulate me, but he wouldn't hire a changeling."

Amie followed her. She kept her distance at first, in case Ivy would be afraid of her. But despite knowing the truth of Amie's condition, there was none of the disgust other ponies felt for them. Only pity, focused entirely on the two injured bugs. "I could accept his proposal, then tell the ponies back there I'm touring on his behalf. You'd need to give me a little more detail on what to look for. I'm not a magical expert."

"I'd never ask you to do that," Amie said. She touched her shoulder with one leg, cautious. "I'm your friend, Ivy... at least I hope I still am. I would never expect someone to change their whole life around just because it would benefit me. If you hate the idea of being back there, don't go. We'll just have to find another way."

Ivy whimpered. For better or worse, Amie had said the exact thing that hurt her the most. "I wouldn't do it if somepony told me to. I wouldn't do it if they asked. But I can see the need. I can imagine what it would be like... getting ripped out of my home, put somewhere that everypony thought I was a monster. Then when we try to talk, we get attacked, because we look the same as the monsters who invaded. It's not fair.

"Equestria... isn't always fair. But I think the princesses try to be. If they knew about this, they wouldn't like it. Most ponies don't know, but—when the changelings invaded, Celestia tried to convince their queen to stop. She tried to be diplomatic, and the changeling didn't listen. You're obviously not that way." She giggled. "It... doesn't feel like you're feeding on me. Would I know if you were?"

Amie shrugged. "I honestly don't even understand how it works. The one bug who talked to me about it—feels like he was wrong about everything. I'm happier than I've ever been just having real friendships. If there's some magic underneath it, I don't know how it works."

That was only partly a lie. She didn't have to do anything to feed on Ivy's ultimate acceptance. But when it came, it was a power just as bright as her brother's love had been when Amie sacrificed herself. There was so much that Beth woke up, turning towards them. Rick sat up on one leg, his mouth hanging open.

Amie... stretched. She'd been holding so much magic for so long that there was never room for any more, yet she kept drinking it anyway. She felt a brief tearing sensation, nearly as painful as the time she'd torn a tendon in her shoulder while climbing three years ago.

Then there was more magic, a whole flood of it. Ivy rested her head on Amie's shoulder, and there was a waterfall—a waterfall into somewhere huge that hadn't been there before, an underground lake of incomprehensible size.

"You are my friend, Amie. The first real friend I've had is a changeling, what does that tell you? Guess I'm pretty bucking lousy at this."

Amie shook her head, crying too. "You just hadn't met the right person, that's all. In another town, you might be the most popular pony around. Just... don't try to be. Don't judge yourself based on what other ponies want, Ivy. You'll give up who you really are. Buck what they want!"

"Oh, I'm about to." Ivy turned, rocking slowly back and forth on her hooves. "My dad is going to love when I tell him that I'm going to Canterlot. If he ever finds out why I did it... he might strangle me."

She was smiling, but Amie didn't laugh. She couldn't tell if Ivy meant it or not. "It's just about how you explain it. If you really find this thing, you could help send all of us home! You could solve the changeling problem in Equestria, in a way that makes everypony happy. You'd be a hero."

Ivy chuckled. "In a way that makes all my dad's huge bases and standing pony armies useless. That sounds... kinda awesome. Except the part where you leave. Not so excited about that part."

"Me neither," Amie said. "But if you find the way back, I could take you to camp first! If you like the adventure course at Agate Base, you'll love what Camp Stella Lacus has. Our high adventure ropes course is the best on the west coast, three years running!"

"I don't know what that means," Ivy admitted. "But I'll hold you to it. After..." She yawned, stretching in the usual pony way. "Tomorrow. We'll need to set off early, if we don't want my dad getting worried that something happened to me. One overnight must already be giving him a hernia."

"Just tell him about your plan to go back to Canterlot when you see him," Amie suggested. "Tell him you had an epiphany when you were alone with the stars. It's kinda true—except there were three of us up here with you."

Amie did not need to sleep long, of course. She remained in her tent with Ivy until the pony had passed thoroughly into unconsciousness, and only then crawled out of her sleeping bag, and onto the windswept camp. Where Rick and Beth were waiting beside the fire.

Since feeding them, both were on their hooves again. They kept to their sleeping bags, taking turns stoking the campfire with new pieces of wood. They might look like bugs, but Amie could see deeper than that. She remembered the campers they'd been. Both younger, probably less productive in Mr. Albrecht's new micronation.

"You're... Amie?" Beth asked, as she made her way over. "You can really just change whenever you want?"

She could hardly blame the girl for not remembering their first meeting. She'd been delirious with hunger, and she might not have even seen the moment Amie demonstrated her real shape for Ivy.

She did it now, dropping the pony disguise, and returning to her usual shape. It took her another second more than usual to collect herself—probably from the cold. The campers were huddled up so tight, they must be looking shorter than they were. The wind kept catching her fins, flipping them around with more energy than Amie found comfortable.

It was nothing compared to the pain her campers had been in, so she dismissed it easily. "I want to know what's happening in Stella Lacus,” she whispered, urgently. "What the hell are you two doing out here? You know this is past the pony perimeter, right? If Equestrians saw you up here, they wouldn't be kind."

They shared a nervous look. Rick looked down, silent. He wasn't going to answer... but Amie could feel the words before he said them. It was more than just guilt and embarrassment. She saw several solar panels tucked into a backpack, a stolen battery and a makeshift transmission antenna.

"We came for a reason," Beth said. "Maybe not a good idea. But it wasn't like Albrecht was gonna feed us anyway. We hoped to be able to call for help when we finished."

"Because you were building an antenna up here," Amie finished for her. Her eyes settled on Rick. "A transmitter-receiver. It would broadcast the camp's intranet everywhere with line of sight to this mountain. Dozens of miles, maybe further. And you thought it was so out of the way, the locals would never come up here to check it."

They looked at each other again. Rick's fins folded flat, and his wings buzzed fearfully. Genuine fear, this time, and a little awe. Amie understood that too, without even knowing why. Rick had always respected her as the pioneering leader, but never thought of her as particularly smart. She was brave and knowledgeable, and he admired her for stepping up to protect everyone. Now he started to wonder if she'd been hiding something all this time.

"Yes," he said. "How did you know all that? Wes and I talked about some of my plans, but you... never seemed interested."

"I wasn't," she admitted. She glanced back at the tent, but its sole occupant was still soundly asleep. She would feel it if Ivy roused. "And how did—" She stopped again. This time they both thought it, coming with a wave of pride. It was strongest from Beth, though. Strong enough that Amie kept her mouth closed this time.

"We flew!" Beth proclaimed. "In the dark, since we guessed ponies couldn't see so well. I'm the best in your group, but Rick's okay. A few others are getting there. And when you told us about sensing emotions, we just had to stay hidden when we felt ponies nearby, then move when we didn't. Took... almost two days. But we got here!"

"You were starving." Amie patted her on the shoulder, then Rick. "How many others are like you? Did the relief party not make it?"

They both shrugged in unison. "We've been up here a while now. Didn't... have the strength to fly back, after we finished with the transmitter. It's up on those rocks there, but I... I was too weak to climb back and turn it on." Rick slumped as he said it, burying his face in his hooves.

"But you understand everything," Beth said. "You can hide, you knew we were up here, you knew how to help... camp needs you, Amie! You should see what Mr. Albrecht is doing. Working everyone harder and harder... there's not a lot of meat anymore. We've been using traps and fishing and birds and everything we can get our hands on... but we're hunting the mountain dry. It's like you said—to hunt, you have to spread out, go on long trips, without ever taking too much from one place. I swear the animals have started avoiding Stella Lacus on purpose.

"Albrecht has been pushing us. Since we don't need sleep, he doesn't let us rest, just keeps everyone moving. It wouldn't be so bad if we weren't all hungry, but since we are... and he hates the hunters the most, Amie. I think he punishes us for you leaving, even if he doesn't admit it. He doesn't trust us with guns anymore, focuses on the trappers and fishers. But he still wants us to be out all the time, even when all we get are bows."

Amie nodded weakly. "I knew this would happen. If Equestria wasn't here, we could spread out across miles and miles. If we had some deer country, a few of those would probably feed the whole camp. But Equestria is here, and they don't want—"

She froze, eyes widening with sudden realization. Amie was working somewhere that Equestrians paid her to make friends. Even if the friendships became real in the end, that only made it more desirable for food. Bud had a whole empty barracks waiting for more friend candidates.

"I don't know if I can feed everyone," Amie said. "But you're my kids. I think it's time to get you out of Stella Lacus... time to get all of you out."

Chapter 36

Her two campers stared back, as relieved as they were confused. Not that Beth and Rick didn't want to leave. They had already done it once, and neither wanted to return. They hadn't said so, but Amie could... feel it.

How did I not notice this when I was still living in camp? How has no one noticed?

"Can you do that?" Rick asked. "I thought you said ponies wanted to kill us. If they caught us, they'd... they'd think we were invaders, and they were justified."

"They would," she said, rising from her hooves. "But you won't look like bugs. You're going to be ponies too." She closed her eyes, then let the magic wash over her. The transformation was even easier than usual, such a small amount of magic that Amie barely noticed it. Before she was well-fed, now she was just spoiled.

Only when she was Rain Fly again did she sit down in front of them, now a little closer to their size. "You aren't limited to just one, either. But it's probably easier if you pick one to start. It's easier to explain one new pony that no one's met than a whole crowd."

Beth sighed, exaggeratedly. "Yeah, Miss Amie. That would be such a great power to use. If only any of us but you could use it. After your message... some bugs in camp can lift things. A few of us can fly. But no one can shapeshift. That's just... impossible."

"We know it isn't," Rick added. "I mean, obviously. Seeing you. It's possible. But if no one can make it work for them, then it might as well be."

Wes took over a month. Amie thought over the same lectures she'd given him, coaching through a discovery she'd made by accident. But if they had to wait months to smuggle her campers out, Albrecht might've starved them by then.

Amie could not wait that long. No matter how much magic she might've gathered, it wasn't enough to march back into camp and take over. She could personally feed a few, maybe, but not a thousand. Just like the mountain itself wasn't enough.

"There is a relief party coming. They have food... but it won't last. And it won't keep coming if negotiations don't go well. I'm doing what I can on the outside... but more help would be better.”

"We'd love to help," Rick said. "We even tried to help the camp, though half the bugs there seem to hate us. You were a... really easy person to blame for everything bad that happened after you left. We all knew it was BS, but lots of people didn't know you. I hoped getting a signal back and forth might let you... send updates, convince people. Maybe you could talk Albrecht out of his plans."

"How does it work?" Beth prompted. "The magic you're doing. I'm a good listener... and whatever was in that medicine, I feel fantastic! Like I could fly all around the world."

She was a good listener. Amie felt her eagerness, and the sincerity underneath. This was far from Wes's half-assed attempts to copy her in the beginning, not believing it was even necessary. Until they discovered just how unfriendly ponies could be.

Amie wasn't exactly sure what happened next. She fixed her attention on Beth, reading her thoughts and feelings more clearly than she'd ever done for another creature before. This was one of her campers, someone she would fight to protect. Someone who looked up to her like she might to a mom, thanks to her desperate, homesick state.

Amie's campers were all that way, even the ones who resented her for running away to protect Wes. But saving someone's life cemented that bond in a way more powerful than helping them through some hard times.

Her vision blurred, stretched, and suddenly Amie was looking at... herself. She felt different—much smaller, her body still aching all over from hunger. She was healing now, but deep fear persisted beneath it all. If Amie left, would she ever eat again?

"Beth?" Rick nudged her shoulder with his wing, nervous. "Sorry Amie, I think she spaced out."

"I didn't," Amie said—except it wasn't her who said it. The words came, and she didn't know exactly how. Her lips moved, and she spoke in Beth's voice. "Something's... happening. I don't... Amie, what are you doing?"

Amie didn't know. She could've panicked, ripped her concentration away before this strange new sensation got completely out of hand. But if she focused, she could lift only Beth's foreleg. "I don't know," she said, from Beth's lips, in Beth's voice. "But I..."

She knew how to use this. Amie picked a pony that fit Beth. Given she'd taken to flying, a pegasus was obvious. A coat the same yellows of the pajamas she always wore when she snuck into the counselor’s cabin for comfort. A greenish tail and mane to help her blend in a little better, and a grinning sunflower as a cutie mark.

Magic flashed from her—but not her own magic. It came from another's stomach this time, and changed another's body.

The shock was finally great enough to tear Amie's mind away. Her double vision vanished, and suddenly she was looking across the dying fire at a frightened pegasus girl.

Beth squeaked in surprise, fluttering her wings in confusion and embarrassment. "H-how? Miss Amie, did you just…?"

She nodded. "I don't know... what. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It just cost magic, and I'm practically drowning in it right now."

Rick eyed her. His mind raced through a dozen different things, the only real way to stop Amie from reading them. She could hardly make sense of his mind when even he didn't know what he was thinking.

Then Beth's body flashed with magic, and she was a bug again. She beamed, spreading both wings. "I... I knew how to do that! After you showed me..."

She concentrated a moment, then came another burst of magic. The exact pony she'd been a moment before returned, down to the smallest detail. "Why didn't you say you could teach like that, Miss Amie? I can change."

"Careful," she cautioned. "It takes magic when you do that—the same stuff we eat. While you're changed, you'll go through it a little faster. But in my experience, you always gain a lot more than you spend, since ponies are so friendly. Most of them, anyway. If they don't think you're a monster."

Rick nudged her. "What you just did—I want you to do it to me too. Show me how to make a disguise."

It took her a little longer. Maybe it was that Rick hadn't been as badly off, or maybe their personalities were just a little less alike. But just like Beth with the transformation, Amie had already done it once. It was much easier to rediscover than to invoke the first time.

All Amie really had to do was focus her attention on the other bug, until she was literally watching out of his eyes, and feeling the warmth of his sleeping bag and all his pent-up nervousness. There was more he'd kept buried even deeper than that, so deep that Amie hadn't realized until that moment. He had started with a crush on Beth. But seeing how hard she fought over the last two months, and how determined she was to keep going in the face of so much opposition... he'd hoped for things that Amie had no desire to see.

Amie turned her attention away from his deeper thoughts, and instead focused on other things. She stood up in Rick's body, then walked away, until she was looking out into the darkness. Focusing on two perspectives at once was incredibly challenging for her. The longer she kept the strange magic going, the clearer Rick's vision became, and the less she saw from her own. She barely even heard Beth ask what she was doing.

"An experiment," she announced. Rick thought that was a good idea as well—he wanted to understand the limits of everything they could do, hoping there was some clue to their salvation hidden in plain sight. He didn't believe that Amie's pony friend would help them, though he'd been polite enough not to say so.

"It's not like... it's more than just controlling," she whispered. Using just her own body took immense concentration, like making two distinct motions with both arms at the same time. Only this time her arms were separated by real distance, and she had to deal with two bodies worth of sensory information. "He's still... awake. I think he could fight me off."

"I don't want to fight," Rick said. As before, she felt her lips moving without the associated desire to speak. "Show me how to change first. A guy, please."

"I knew that," she answered. Then she changed him. She already had a body picked out—he needed to be a pegasus too, or else he couldn't fly anywhere with Beth. But he'd be thinner and scrawnier than most stallions, and probably need glasses. He would have a soldering iron for his cutie mark, since he usually had one in his hand anyway.

This time, Amie knew the magic was coming, and it didn't tear her away. She felt Rick's procession of shock, then curiosity for the new body. As in her own experience, he quickly found it easier to understand than the bug he'd been stuck as for the last months. Ponies were familiar mammals, with everything more or less the way you expected it.

Rick hurried back over to the fire, grinning. "You're right, Beth! I can... see how she did it. The power to change has been right there all along!"

Amie let go, settling back onto her haunches. They'd all been so distracted that the fire was burning down to embers now. But their conversation had also gone on long enough that distant sunlight was growing on the horizon.

For a second, Amie didn't move, relaxing into the simplicity of having only her own eyes to look through, and no foreign thoughts in her head. The others were close if she wanted them—their appreciation, their excitement, and of course their loyalty. She'd given them something tonight, more than just saving their lives.

"What will we do now?" Beth asked. "Now that we can... except I don't think I could teach this. I can't even... explain what you did. I'm just copying exactly how you did it."

"Don't go back to camp," she said. "Not yet. I'm going to get my kids out, every single goddamn one of you. But we have to do it smart. Rick, get your transmitter working. Then you're going to fly off this hill, and lay low until afternoon. After that, there's a building..."

After controlling them, Amie barely even had to spend any effort at all on what came next. She imagined the Rent-a-Friend warehouse, pictured it perfectly in her mind—and sent it to them, exactly as she remembered it.

That was far simpler than changing for them, and used far less magic. "Fly there, but not after sundown. The city locks up when the sun goes down. If anypony asks, you're miners from Motherlode, hoping to work for the Rent-a-Friend. Wes or I will meet you on the roof. There's somewhere for you to live. If I can convince my boss, there might be work too... we'll see."

"You're the best, Amie." Beth hugged her. "Saving us... who taught you all this?"

Rick wasn't quite that brave, and just pawed at the ground nearby, nodding his agreement. "Camp would be so screwed without you."

Amie had no answer for Beth, of course. She wasn't sure how she knew anything she was doing. But telling them she was figuring things out on the fly would probably not give them the confidence they needed to obey. "I'll be waiting," she promised. "I'll fix this. Somehow."

Chapter 37

Compared to all the chaos surrounding their arrival, Amie and Ivy's return to Agate was relatively uneventful. There were no more missing campers to find along the path and heal, no attacking pony soldiers to confront Amie with the truth of her transformation and throw her in prison.

Instead, they walked in relative silence. This time it was different from the peaceful walk that was an opportunity for physical exertion and personal growth. There was something subtly awkward about the silence between them, a change to their relationship that could never be completely reversed.

That hurt Amie a little, though she knew it shouldn't. Deep down, she had to accept that her friendship with Ivy was ultimately the product of a contract. That didn't mean she just walked in silence, of course.

"There's still time to change your mind," Amie said, after they'd finally made it down the difficult part of the climb, and back onto a proper trail. From there it was just the hike, with little danger to worry about. "Deciding to help us, it's—I know it's a big thing. Even if it goes well, you let your dad talk you into leaving somewhere you wanted to live."

And if it went poorly, the possible consequences were too terrible to contemplate. A pony army marching on Stella Lacus, Ivy in jail for conspiracy, worse? The less she thought about that, the better.

"He won't be talking me into anything," Ivy said, resolved. "This is my choice. Not his, not yours. It's something nopony else in the world could do."

She looked up, smiling weakly at Amie. "If I get caught, I'm going to tell the princesses about you. How you're not trying to hurt anypony, and you just want to go home. Maybe we should do that anyway, tell them about your tribe. All they hear is from my dad, about how scouts see the changelings braving further and further as they get desperate for food."

Amie nodded. Going to the Equestrians with an honest request for help had been on her mind a few times. So far, she had a pretty good success rate convincing them that she wasn't actually an evil monster. Maybe she could do that with their princess, too?

But if they didn't trust her, if they threw her in jail, who would care for her kids? There were campers she still had to get out of Stella Lacus, and a scheme bubbling away half-formed in the back of her mind. "I will tell them eventually," Amie promised. "But please don't go there unless you don't have a choice. Things are... tense, right now. If I go to Canterlot on a diplomatic mission, then I won't be here to hold things together.

"The longer we're stuck here, the worse camp morale is getting. I'm working on solutions to getting ponies the food and supplies they need, but it's a struggle. If I'm not here, there's nopony to take my place."

Ivy looked her over, then sighed. "Worth a shot to make you come with me. It's a long, long ride in that train all the way to Canterlot."

"I'll make it up to you one day," Amie promised. "But you saw those bugs last night. Their condition... it wasn't much worse than the rest of camp. Someone needs to do something to protect them. That someone is me."

They walked the rest of the way back to Agate without much conversation between them. Amie unloaded her satchel, passing back everything else to the quartermaster.

"Commander is not happy with you, Ivy," he said, when they'd passed back the last of their supplies. "I'd get back to him before he finds out you're on base. Reverse goes for you, Rain Fly. Make yourself scarce for a while, get me?"

She nodded gratefully. "Thanks. I think the hike was enough of a workout for today, anyway."

"See you tomorrow?" Ivy asked. "We can catch up on anything I need before I go."

"Will do." Amie hugged her. She wasn't sure if it would be for the last time, but she wasn't going to waste it. "Thanks for a great trip, Ivy. You were amazing out there. More than anypony could expect."

She broke away, grinning back. "Yeah, I am kind of amazing. Sometimes it's good to have a reminder, though."

Amie left the base in a hurry after that, before Commander Path could demand a personal meeting. No small part of that were her other fears—even if Ivy didn't intentionally give Amie away, a casual remark, a slip of the tongue, or some magical interrogation... who knew how many ways there were to extract information from her?

She didn't run, and her invisible senses easily told her that nopony followed her. She was just another pony in Agate—a regular by now, one that many recognized coming and going across the city. The food-vendors didn't bother her like the miners. They knew she wasn't going to buy.

By the time she reached home, it was slightly after noon. She ascended the steps, and found the building empty except for her brother.

Wes was tucked in near the window, surrounded by library books. He had a pad of paper in front of him, and a pen hovering in the air.

"Was getting worried," he said, without sitting up. "Did something go wrong out there?"

Amie tossed her satchel onto the kitchen table, and broke into energetic laughter. She kept at it for almost a minute, with her brother staring in growing concern. Finally she said, "I think everything went wrong. But maybe in a good way? Things might be about to go to shit. Anything important to you, update your bug-out bag. We might need it."

Wes snapped the book closed, then stood. "That bad, huh?"

She told him. What Amie really wanted was a prolonged, hot shower. She was covered in dirt, smoke, and mud from the night before. But the urgency of the danger against them was too high, so all that had to wait.

She told him in a rush, spilling from one topic to another in a desperate avalanche. She kept going until her voice went hoarse. All the while Wes gathered his meager possessions into the saddlebags hanging by the door.

"So let me get this straight," he continued, when she finally collapsed by the table to catch her breath. "Rick and Beth were on the mountain, you admitted to your client you were a changeling. The client that happens to be the daughter of the base commander here. And now we're depending on her mercy to go to Canterlot on our behalf, and not just turn us in?"

"Yeah. Also I can like... connect with the minds of bugs. See through them, walk around, hear their thoughts. That part freaked me out a little more. God, if Albrecht knew how to do that..."

"I want to see," Wes said, settling down in front of her. "Do it to me."

She turned her attention on her brother, focusing on his thoughts as she had with the campers the night before.

She felt his anticipation easily enough, and a little dread. He didn't like what this power implied. But no matter how long she stared, or how much she focused—she could get no more. No thoughts, and none of the bond that let her see through another's eyes.

"Woah." She opened her eyes again, standing up. "You're immune. Just like ponies seem to be."

"I guess I'll see a demonstration when the others get here," he said. "Can't believe they learned how to fly on their own. We should ask them for tips—that sounds awesome!"

"If we're not all on the run from the law in the next few hours," Amie said. "Yeah. We'll work on it. I'll have to find Bud and talk to him about having more bugs around. Maybe... a bunch more. We'll see."

So much for spending her next few months gradually building resources and preparing for a trip to Canterlot. But she should've realized the problem with that plan. She couldn't just close her eyes, stick her hooves in her ears, and pretend that her friends in Stella Lacus weren't starving.

I still have to make good on our half of the promise we made to Pachu’a. They'll be getting back soon.

Just one more item for her growing list.

"I need you to write down everything you know about portals and magic for going to other worlds," Amie continued. "Every detail, no matter how inconsequential. I'll give it to Ivy, and she can use your list for her search."

"It won't be a long list," Wes said. "A few names, maybe. Equestria knows about at least one other world. Most books don't get very specific about what travel is like. But someone built a portal once, some kinda mirror. I'll scribble down what I've found."

"Perfect. Portals sound great. Just put that on the list with all the other impossible magic we've been doing lately."

Amie finally crossed back into her bedroom after that. She nearly tripped on a thick envelope tucked under the door, but caught herself with a bit of magic, levitating it up into the air.

It had Bud's flowery hoof writing all over it, not that it could be from anypony else.

She dumped it out onto the table in front of her. There was a single thin sheet of paper inside, along with a stack of bit cash certificates.

"Amie,

Congratulations on completing your first assignment! I've just received a message from Commander Bravo Path expressing his satisfaction. I was beginning to wonder if anypony could meet his strict demands, but you've gone and delivered.

With his approval, we'll be able to open sister locations across Equestria. I've included the remainder of the payment for this contract term, even though serving it will no longer be required.

Consider your probationary period over. You've proven that ponies with your unique upbringing have a lot to offer. Please make time to visit with Stratosphere sometime in the next few days. You will be taking on a new contract next Monday, playing a hippogriff, details attached.

I have a stack of opportunities for your brother still sitting on my desk as well. See what you can do to convince him. I will be occupied over the next few weeks in negotiation to build our Manehattan flagship location. If you know any promising talent who don't mind relocating, bring them to my office.

-Bud Bonzer"

Amie turned over the stack of bills. Each one listed bit amounts of a hundred or more. Together they made for several times as much pony money as she'd ever seen in one place.

Too bad we can't eat it.

Amie concealed it with the rest of their cash in a hollowed-out book on her shelf, then finally stepped into the shower. She rinsed thoroughly as Rain Fly, before changing back into herself and turning the hot water all the way up.

Amie wasn't rushing anymore. Of course she should've known that Ivy wouldn't try to screw her over. They'd climbed the tallest mountain they could find together. Now thanks to Ivy, she had someone on the “inside.” I wish I knew how that peace envoy was going. I would know if the Equestrians caught the expedition, wouldn't I?

Finally she felt clean enough to switch off the water, and she did. She froze, staring back into the shower's mirrored walls.

Her reflection was... different. Some things were subtler—her legs didn't look quite right, and there were green accents on her body that had been missing before. But her head fin was... not a fin anymore. It looked a little like a mane, albeit one that had only started growing. A few strands fell in front of her face, and she had to brush them back with magic.

Most striking of all were the eyes, though. Amie stared back. Her eyes weren't multifaceted, alien bug things anymore. They were blue again, with familiar white sclera, albeit a feline slit instead of the shape familiar to ponies or humans.

"What's... happening to me?" she asked no one.

It was Tailslide who answered, however, walking into the empty bedroom beyond. "Something wrong?"

Chapter 38

Amie considered changing back into any number of different pony disguises. But the windows were always drawn, and he already knew. Hiding the truth about her nature would not help. Besides, she needed to know whether or not she was imagining things.

She shook herself off, removed a towel from the hook, then wrapped it around her shoulders as she stepped out. He clicked the door closed behind him, watching her from across the small space.

Tailslide didn't look different, anyway. He was still covered in the grime of a hard day's work in the factory, still wearing a torn pair of saddlebags and nothing else. At least having a good night's rest and some proper food had helped him. He wasn't staring off into space, and he looked a little less like the flesh was going to slide right off his bones. A good week or so of proper nutrition, and he would probably be right back to where he started.

"I need you to be honest," Amie said, drying off as quickly as she could. "Do I look different to you?"

He crossed the room slowly, then stopped in place, looking her over. After a few seconds, he nodded. "There are some differences. What did you change into?"

She winced. "I... nothing. This is just how I look. I feel like it was different before, but it's not like I took pictures. Who wants to remember looking like a freak?"

Tailslide patted her gently on the shoulder with a wing. "It's... not what changelings are supposed to look like. You think maybe you're changing like your brother? Maybe this is the first step of your transformation. Like... Equestria is recognizing that you're not evil bugs who want to eat us. Eventually you'll all look like him, and you won't need to feed on love anymore."

"Maybe! That... does sound better than any of the nightmare explanations I've had. I think I'll go with what you said." She settled back onto her haunches, tossing the wet towel onto the floor. "How was work?"

He groaned in response. "Wish I could say it was getting better. Base commander still knows I'm here, and he's putting pressure on everywhere I go to fire me. Until I'm out of Agate, he'll never let me rest. I wouldn't be surprised if he has me fired again by the end of the week."

Amie ran one hoof through her hair as he spoke, only slightly distracted. It had been a long time since she had hair, he couldn't be mad at her for that! Technically she had it every day when she was with Ivy, but that was pretending. This was real.

"We could go out for dinner again," she suggested. "Things might be... about to hit the fan here. I don't know who will come out the other side. But it might be our last chance for a while."

"Hit the... fan?" Tailslide asked. He tossed his saddlebag onto a hook, then froze. "Your eyes—they didn't always look like that?"

"Nope," she said. Amie blushed, turning away from him. Bugs could still do that it turned out, leaving patches of blue on her face instead of red. "Do you want to go out for dinner or not? I'm already going out of the way here—where I come from, it's usually the stallion who does things like that."

Tailslide thought about it, scratching his chin. "You don't eat."

"Who cares?" she asked, annoyed. "I want to relax. I might not get another chance. I'm pretty sure you don't have movies, I'm not even sure what alcohol would do to me if we went out to a club..."

And even if it isn't just poison, I can't take the risk it might compromise my judgment and make me do something I'll regret. Amie had already revealed her true nature to several ponies without intoxication to encourage her.

"We could go to the lake," Tailslide suggested. "It's a short flight. I know you can look like a pegasus if you want to. Just let me steal something to eat from the other room first."

He didn't wait for her response, just slipped out through the open door, leaving her behind. Amie had a little time to consider how she would look. She'd used the same pegasus with him a half-dozen times now, and just as often on various errands around the city. Something about that repetition had her feeling restless. Amie was meant to change, wasn't she?

Besides, Amie's strange new eyes had her thinking of where she'd seen them before—there was a whole tribe of ponies meant for the night, with wings that lacked feathers and eyes like hers.

She wasn't translating her old human self into a pony, the way she'd done with Healing Touch. She wanted a pony who looked like her real self... as close as possible. She looked into the mirror, imagined what she would look like—then changed.

Her bat self would have a bright green mane and wings, blue eyes, and a firefly for her cutie mark. She even kept her fangs, though the bats were shaped very differently from her own. She gave her a short mane, though it would grow with time. Maybe her own newly acquired hair was a sign of things to come.

I could be changing into Wes's species. It's not the worst theory. If only there hadn't been a few snags with that idea, nagging on the back of her mind. Having more colors of her own did match with Wes, but his eyes were still insectoid, and his back still had fins instead of a mane.

I'll ask Pachu’a when he gets back here. Assuming Albrecht didn't have him shot.

Tailslide came through the door a few minutes later, still smelling slightly of salad dressing. "Woah. You're, uh... who taught you to do a thestral?"

"If people taught me anything my life would be a helluva lot better," she said. "But I've seen a few on base. They seem pretty cool—dangerous, exotic. The hearing is really interesting. I can... hear my brother through the wall. And your heartbeat."

Of course it was no pony sense that showed her just how accurate her guess about Tailslide's preferences had been. Bats were mysterious and dangerous to him, muddled up in a confusing blur of feelings she couldn't untangle. However her powers were expanding, they didn't show her his thoughts.

Amie would have to figure those out the old-fashioned way. She didn't anticipate much of a challenge, if stallions were anything like men. "I planned on visiting the lake with... my client. But I don't think we'll ever get the chance. You sure that's what you want? You don't need the exercise."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tailslide said. "But I'm sure. I've had enough self-pity in my old favorite restaurants, I think. You're the one with a whole city's worth of ponies to save from certain doom. I'm just the one who failed to help."

Amie stopped to leave one last message with Wes before she left. "Remember, Rick and Beth are probably coming soon. Get them inside, keep them hidden. Make sure they don't go wandering through the building. I haven't got to talk to Bud about having them yet."

"Sure." Wes was sitting at the kitchen table, with a salad slowly going soggy in front of him. His attention was entirely focused on his... phone? He had a stylus floating in the air next to him, and scrolled absently through it.

Amie caught herself in the doorway. Her own relaxation for the evening could wait. "Right, Rick mentioned that. He was setting up a repeater antenna. It should cover Agate by now."

"It does." Wes looked up. "Did you check your messages? Might want to look. There's a lot here... but some of it is about you."

She didn't want to know. Given her track-record, any message waiting for her could only be some new fire to extinguish. Probably it was something she couldn't even help with, since she was a dozen miles away behind enemy lines. But hiding from it wouldn't make it go away.

"Something wrong?" Tailslide asked. He stood still, watching her dart back into her room. "Should we go another night?"

"No!" She left the door open, and didn't turn around. "Just... gimme a sec. I think there might be a message for me."

She removed her phone from the pack with her mouth, settling it onto the table in front of her. It would be easier if she changed into something that could use a horn. But if she did that, that would be one more step away from a relaxing evening with Tailslide. They both needed some time to catch their breath.

The phone took a moment to start. As usual, there was no signal until she started Rick's bodged program. The screen flashed once, then suddenly she was drowned in messages.

Many were from her campers, begging for help. All of you hold on a little longer, she thought to herself. I'm gonna get you out.

But none of those were surprising. Instead, her attention jerked to the series of messages from Director Albrecht.

"I do not know if you will receive this," began the first. "This is not a true cell network, I know there are communication limits. I wanted to send this anyway, in case you ever receive it.

I am sorry for alarming you over your brother. In your place, I might've done something similar.

We received a relief party today. They explained you had sent them, with information about Camp Stella Lacus. Doing this was not your place—there should have been a conference over what information to share, and how to arrange any diplomacy with outsiders. It was wrong for you to do this.

I do not believe we would have survived without it, however. We owe you our lives.

Not counting you and your brother, sixteen campers have passed away or gone missing since the Transit. This number has only begun to accelerate as the youngest and weakest succumb.

I guess the supplies they gave us will last two weeks. If we continue hunting during this time, we should be able to extend that. It will be a rough return to meat after finally having a supply of real food.

They refuse to commit to another delivery until completing some arrangement you made with your brother. I know I don't have the power to force you. Stella Lacus was dying. With new allies, we may be able to protect its campers and staff.

Whatever it is you're doing, please don't stop. I do not know if any of us will see home again. But even if we're doomed to be exiles forever, we have a responsibility to keep them safe."

Amie didn't have time to scroll through a month of missed social posts from the camp. She could imagine how depressing they would all be.

She did take a second to type out a reply, even if she had to use the stylus in her mouth. It didn't have to be a long one.

"Albrecht — I know you were cutting my kids off from their fair share, blaming them for what I did. In exchange for facilitating this, I have one demand.

I may start bringing them out of camp. I can use more people here, people I know and trust. And having them here lets me know they're getting fed.

When it's time, you're going to give your blessing, and let them go. You aren't going to steal from them or mistreat them, and you aren't going to kick them out.

If you agree, I'll make sure you get another shipment. I don't know what the Elders will ask for in payment, but I'll negotiate as well as I can.

I wasn't gonna let you vivisect my brother. But I haven't forgotten about Stella Lacus either. I've been trying to help you since I left.

That's all I want."

To her surprise, the reply was already coming through seconds after she finished writing. The phone buzzed, and a single line appeared on her screen.

"I agree to your terms."

She switched the phone off again, then sat back up. Tailslide had made his way back in.

"It's a little later than I hoped," he said. "If we get caught outside the wall after dark, we'll have to wait until morning to come in."

She shrugged. "We're allowed to camp at this lake, right?"

He nodded. "So long as I can make it back by first bell."

She grinned back. "I'll get the sleeping bag."

Amie left the building behind, along with a whole lifetime's worth of stress. They would still be waiting for her when she got back, like a dozen different explosions all moving in slow-motion. But maybe this trip into nature would actually let her relax for once.

She had to try.

Chapter 39

Despite Tailslide's plans for the evening, they did not fly to the lake. Thankfully this wasn't the one hidden high in the mountains, requiring many hours of difficult trek up into the wilderness. A wide road led directly out of Agate, along the bank of a slow-moving river.

There was little in the way of boat traffic, only the occasional narrow barge laden with crates of whatever ponies floated out of Agate. The captain of one waved to them as he floated past, and Amie waved back.

Amie was used to carrying heavy saddlebags by now, using bodies that weren't designed for it. One of these days she would use an earth pony, and everything would be simple. But nothing Amie ever did was simple, and that wasn't going to start today.

"Let me know if you want me to take a turn," Tailslide said, as they reached the lake. "I don't expect you to carry everything yourself."

"They work you hard enough at your job," she argued, skipping out of his reach. "Besides, it's not as much as you think. A tent, a sleeping bag, and a single bottle of wine. How heavy do you think that stuff really is?" And a gun. But hopefully she never had to use that on anypony. She had a pretty good track record going so far.

"A sleeping bag," he repeated. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Amie?"

She lifted one wing toward him, grinning. "Oh, definitely. If there's any reason you don't want to date an absolute disaster, we can still turn around. Doesn't look like they locked the gate yet."

Tailslide led them along the lake, to an old dock. It was entirely abandoned, though there were several recreational boats tied up there. Rowboats mostly, though there was a single sailboat larger than the rest. "They use the honor system," he explained, as they stepped up onto the dock. "Just toss a few bits in there, and we can pick one. I'd suggest the sailboat, if I knew how to use it."

"I do," she said, tossing a few metal coins from her pack into the waiting bucket. "Those others are too small anyway. I don't want to tip over."

They loaded into the sailboat. Amie made sure he was secure, then untied from the dock, pushing them out across the water. "This lake looks pretty big from my map," she said. "Can we sail the whole thing? I'd love to get some distance."

The air was chilly over the lake, but that was expected. It was always colder on the water.

"Far as I know," he answered. The boat was larger than anything Stella Lacus had—not quite big enough to have anything belowdecks, but big enough for a little kitchen area in back for preparing meals, then a slightly recessed area with benches below the waterline. Tailslide rested in one of these, though he kept his wings spread at all times. "Guess it's a good thing you're a bat, if we're sailing after dark."

She let out the sail, then took the line in her mouth, guiding them away from the road, and the dock, and civilization in general.

The lake was beautiful by sunset, illuminating a mountainous countryside empty and natural all around it. That meant more privacy, though it did seem like a shame. This place would make for a gorgeous property to build a lakefront home.

"How'd you learn how to sail?" he asked, leaning one leg off the railing. The usual mountain breeze was more than enough to keep them moving, though it would be tacking against it to head home. "Is that a usual bug thing?"

How much further should she take them? There was a cove off in the distance, with a high rock wall on one side and nice shallow water beneath. How long since Amie had a real morning swim?

"We weren't bugs before, remember?" She raised the sail again, then lobbed their anchor over the side. They came to a stop maybe twenty meters from either shore, right in the center of the cove. A perfect place to watch the sunset. "Small boat sailing is one of the things we teach at camp. I taught it one year, but it wasn't my favorite. I like climbing better."

She sat down beside him, then fished around inside the backpack. She removed the bottle, settling it down in front of them. "I don't... know if I can drink this. You might have to enjoy it for both of us."

He picked it up with one wing, showing off a little more of that impressive pony dexterity. He turned it over, then settled it back down in front of them. "Are you sure... about all this?" He met her eyes for a second, then turned away just as quickly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked. "I've been single for..." She counted out the months in her mind since Harvey. "Half a year. When I first appeared here looking like a... freak, I was glad I didn't have anything else complicating things. But the longer I'm here, the more I see how hard it all is. The responsibility sucks, but it would suck a lot less if I had someone backing me up. Someone I could count on being there for me on those nights when I just don't want to think anymore."

Tailslide wrapped one wing around her shoulder. The mountain breeze was cold, but not cold enough to penetrate his wings. "When I asked you," he finally said. "I just wanted to make sure this wasn't about debt. I don't expect you to repay me for helping you. A relationship that starts so tilted will never balance out, and just leave everypony unhappy."

Amie shook her head. "I'm not out here because I think I owe you. I saved your life, you saved mine. We're square, so far as I see it. I like you. You were brave enough to fight monsters, but... smart enough to see when we weren't. And principled enough that you refused to do something you know is wrong. Who am I going to run into who's better than all that?"

Tailslide nodded. "Just so long as we know what we're getting into, here. I... can't really do anything to make Equestria hate me more. Dating a bug..."

Amie shifted her weight closer to him. Being a bat gave her excellent senses, but her wings were also covered in naked skin. The cold was doing her no favors. Once she was comfortable, she took out a pair of metal camping glasses, and poured.

Amie was just old enough to drink in the first place. Her Rent-a-Friend apartment had come furnished with this stuff, she didn't know the first thing about choosing it. Strangely, it didn't smell rotten like so many other foods. Maybe that was a good sign?

"One last chance for you to get off this boat and fly to safety," she continued, settling the cup into his grip. He held it with his wing, and didn't spill. Somehow. "I've only ever dated people with two legs before. I have no idea what pony customs for this stuff look like. And when the sun comes up tomorrow, only God knows what's gonna happen to me. I'm already twisted up in contracts, I've got a whole little hive of kids to take care of. I don't expect your help with all that, but you are gonna have to deal with me."

He sipped from the glass. "I stayed in Agate so I could help save your tribe, Amie. If I didn't want to, I'd already be back in Cloudsdale."

"Great." Amie lifted her own glass in both forelegs, and sipped. It tasted nothing like she remembered, though there were familiar hints of grapes buried under a whole new species’s worth of flavors. It wasn't bad, just different enough that it would take her some getting used to.

"Mhmmm." She got halfway through the glass before setting it down, with Tailslide watching her every sip.

"I thought changelings couldn't eat," he asked, after a few minutes. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"It's definitely not. But sometimes that's the point. I want to save my friends, but I want to live too. Am I allowed to do both?"

"I can't give you orders," Tailslide said. "But I'm in favor."

It wasn't the craziest night Amie had ever had, or the most romantic. But it was hard to beat watching the sunset in the mountains. Recent developments to her diet and anatomy certainly didn't hurt the whole situation.

If there was some part of her whispering that she was only moving so quickly because her brain was rewired, and she shouldn't even be interested in aliens in such a short time—it was a small voice, one easily silenced by the abundance she enjoyed out on that boat.

It was so much more than the trickle of nutrition she had while disguised as Rain Fly with Ivy. Looking like a pony wasn't a lie with Tailslide, it was just a fashion choice. She could pick other things, and maybe she would, down the road. So long as he knew who was underneath, Amie would still reap all the benefits.

She told herself being a changeling was secondary to her experiences that night. She wasn't hungry, she didn't need food. What Amie really needed was someone to hold her for a while, someone to tell her that everything would be okay. Someone strong enough that she didn't have to wonder if they could do it.

Amie slept soundly that night, really slept, for the first time since Transit. It didn't matter what terrors were waiting for her when she got back, or the mantle of responsibility over a thousand bugs. For one night, on one boat, she could put all that aside.

It was also the first time she dreamed, more vividly than she could remember at any point in her human life. Her mind wandered through vast, subterranean spaces, caverns excavated with hooves and teeth. The shapes were alien to her, but also somehow comfortable and familiar. The maze served a purpose, a descending series of teardrop-shaped rooms, connected by a tunnel. Figures crawled up and down, so vast that she couldn't count them.

Even so, they welcomed her, by smells or gestures. This was her home too, even in near-total darkness. She navigated by smell, following trails others had left.

Down into the largest room of all, its walls covered with a waxy honeycomb of many cells. There were thousands of eggs, either tucked away into waiting alcoves to grow, or tended to by a throng of hardworking insects.

Finally she reached the bottom, where a throne of wax sat against the wall. Around it were familiar objects—books she had read, a few old family portraits stuck to the wall, repainted in oil at much larger sizes.

Eggs surrounded the throne, some still wet with greenish mucus. They obviously hadn't come from the one in the chair.

She was the tallest creature Amie had ever seen, except for the Rent-a-Friend's resident hippogriff. Her coat was deep blue, and her eyes as sharp as swords.

"A new queen arrives in Equestria," she said, setting something down on the throne beside her. Amie's phone, with a slideshow of her camp photos scrolling through it. "What kind of creature is she? What curse will she bring on Equestria?"

Amie didn't want to look like a bug anymore—so in the way of dreams, she didn't. Suddenly she was a bat. The body might be new to her, but the way she'd used it also supplied Amie with permanence in a way only Rain Fly's could've done. But that wasn't the form she took. Rain Fly would've run from pressure like this. The bat was still Amie—she would defy it.

"I don't want to curse anyone,” she said. "I don't want to build... this place. I don't want to rule anything, or control anyone."

"You speak as the master of liars," said the towering pony. Up close, Amie saw more frightening details—she had wings as well as a horn, something she'd never seen in Agate. There was something special about these creatures, though she didn't exactly know what. Maybe if she was awake she would've remembered. "Yet even now, you wrap yourself in a lie. Why should we ever believe you? You search for a meal, and you find it. You don't care the harm you do in the process."

"I'm not harming anyone," she argued, defiant. This burrow might feel familiar and safe, but it wasn't what she wanted. Amie willed it away, and something took its place. Cabins on a lake—a little like Stella Lacus, but not temporary this time. A street ran between them, a little town filled with bugs.

She populated the vision with campers she knew, as she imagined them when they grew up. If the camp counselors could do their job and keep them safe, maybe one day they'd build somewhere better. There were even ponies visiting, joining the locals for waterskiing, or buying snacks on the lake.

Amie didn't understand what she was doing, or how. But the effort cost her, and soon left her panting. No part of the hive remained, except the waxy throne directly in front of her, where the pony sat in judgment.

"I'm not what you think," Amie said. "I'm not the queen of anything. I'm not here to curse or conquer. I just want to keep my kids safe. And if I can figure out how—get them home."

The pony stood from her throne, surveying Amie's vision. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer now. She wasn't shouting anymore. "If that is so, then fate has dealt you the cruelest card of all. Your desire for peace will be swallowed in your instinct for dominion. You will never give to any creature, only take from them. You may not wish to harm—you may not even wish to take. You will anyway, because it is in your nature.

"Wherever you go, ruin will follow. One who destroys cannot build. First you must feed a thousand. Then you will birth a thousand more. Your future is tragic… and your end, inevitable."

With that pronouncement, the vision ended, and Amie woke with a start.

Chapter 40

The boat barely rocked beneath Amie by the faint light of dawn. The lake water was crystal smooth, like a single sheet of glass not yet broken by wind or recreational swimmers. Her nesting place was similarly comfortable, tucked inside the sleeping bag with Tailslide beside her. She no longer smelled much like a bat anymore—but she also didn't want to.

She lay there for a little while, feeling the rocking boat beneath her, and listening to the songs of morning birds. Her bat body wanted to keep sleeping, but she fought through that. A few minutes in the water would wash away any trace of tiredness. Unfortunate that it would take Tailslide's ozone and lightning scent away too—but that would make things less awkward for Wes.

Assuming he didn't figure out on his own. Why else did two people take a romantic trip into the woods?

She couldn't lay there forever, no matter how much she might want to. Sunrise drew closer, and orange light spread across the sky. Finally, she nudged Tailslide with her wing, prompting him to sit up. He scanned the boat around them groggily, then saw her laying there. "Morning, Amie."

She sat up, stretching her wings to their full size. She still felt sluggish—something about being a bat, maybe. There was an awful lot of skin to keep warm between the two of them. "I'd let you sleep, but I don't want to give them an excuse to fire you. I think you'll have to fly to make it back to Agate before first whistle."

Tailslide yawned, then stretched in the usual pony way. "I really should've expected that. You're a changeling. I've seen earth ponies with less endurance."

She giggled. "I told you I hadn't been with anyone for six months. I'm happy to be past that period of my life." She nudged him up into a standing position. "I'd rather spend the day with you than go back to Agate. But you have to hold that job down, and I have to... save the world. Life is cruel sometimes."

He nodded, then froze. His stomach rumbled so loudly that she could feel it through him. Or... wait. She felt it too. A sensation so foreign to her that she hadn't realized it was there. It had been months since Amie felt it... but now that she did, it was impossible to ignore. Amie was starving.

"Is it okay if I steal some breakfast from your place on the way in?"

She dug into her saddlebags, then dropped a little pile of bits in front of him. "Too suspicious. Buy something instead." I don't want you to meet the two new bugs who are probably waiting in there without introducing you first.

He leaned over to her, then kissed her on the forehead. "Sure you can handle bringing the boat back without me?"

Her wings fluttered, and her chest puffed out. "I got it here, I can bring it back. Just... please don't tell my brother about us. I want to tell him."

She watched Tailslide take off about a minute later, vanishing into the early morning air. Amie would need to follow him back to the city, and the weight of responsibilities festering there. Unless something was disastrously wrong, there were two bugs waiting in her building, and not an army of royal guards that wanted her dead.

Amie's hunger didn't flee as she packed things up on the boat, though. The longer she sat there, the more she felt her stomach grumbling. Strange, given that her magical reserve was still there, more powerful than ever. A night with somepony who loved her was about the most filling thing she'd ever enjoyed. She would've exploded with magic, if it wasn't for the new depth of her reserve, filling eternally but always with more room for power.

This was the older hunger, the kind she could only satiate by eating actual food. More proof I'm changing into my brother? she wondered. He can eat food, now I can too.

The thought of Agate's many street-vendors with their greasy, large portions of miner's food did have a certain appeal to her. But at the same time, so did the lake she was floating in, full of fish just beneath the surface. Despite the forges and metal refineries close by, this lake was teaming with life.

Warm, juicy life. Amie didn't have a fishing pole, or knowledge of how to operate one for that matter. But what she did have was magic, and her memory of her sole conversation with Rent-a-Friend's hippogriff. Stratosphere had talked about a childhood spent leaping from the cliffs of her homeland, catching fish and bringing them up to fry. Before the island was attacked and its population scattered and vanished, that was.

Amie was not the only one on this planet to suffer.

She could make a spear to hunt, but why not do what she already knew she could? All she had to do was make sure no pony was flying overhead, and that she could hear no other boats along the river. It was still so early she had little reason to fear either one.

She picked airy blues, whites for the hippogriff she imagined, with a lean body and sharp claws instead of hooves on her forelegs. Those alterations made, Amie leapt in for her morning swim.

As a human being, the task would've been impossible. For a pony, it would've been even harder. It took a hippogriff less than an hour to catch a half dozen large fish, gut them with her claws, and hang them over a makeshift campfire to grill on the shore. She didn't even feel the cold—her feathers were built for swimming, keeping her insides dry no matter how many times she leapt in after a fish.

I was right, there is an instinct to a body. Like tapping into a piece of their genetic memory.

Four large fish were much more than she should've been able to eat. Even one their size would've fed her whole family back on Earth. She devoured all of them, and only when she was finishing the last of her catch did Amie finally began to feel a little relief. She could easily get back into the water for another few—if someone hadn't flown down to join her.

They came from higher on the mountain, flying with a small group of others. Upon seeing Amie sprawled on the shore beside her campfire, one broke formation and began to descend.

She had a few seconds to collect herself, but not much. Amie considered fleeing into the trees, but abandoned that plan quick enough. She smelled like fire, meat, and lake. Anypony with a nose could probably follow her for miles. And if she changed... the pony would have to be pretty dumb not to connect the dots to the changelings kept “contained” in Camp Stella Lacus.

He landed on the shore, avoiding the smoke rising from her dying fire. "Good morning, Amie," he said, waving one wing. "I thought I would find you in Agate, not out here. This is a fortunate accident."

She sat up, more slowly than usual. She was so full that she wasn't in any particular hurry to move too quickly. Just a few inches closer to her saddlebags, and the gun tucked inside. "What makes you think that's my name?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Because hippogriffs produce viable emotions. They're half pony, after all. But your feelings are... veiled. Fascinating. You're a more powerful hunter than I remember."

Amie stood, then washed her claws in the water, before holding one out to shake. "You'll forgive me if I don't change how I look, Pachu'a. We're close to Agate."

He offered a hoof in exchange, and shook briefly. "That is wisdom. You have learned somewhat, since we last spoke."

She nodded. "How'd the expedition go? Do you see the potential for Camp Stella Lacus? The technology I told you about..."

He claimed not to know how she was feeling. If that was true, he wouldn't see her nervous anticipation, and her dread. This man had the power to save her tribe, or to doom them.

She could feel his emotions just fine, though. Pity was the strongest of all, along with a hint of greed. There was something he hoped to gain from this diplomacy. "I have never seen bugs more in need of assistance. We found their state so pitiable we offered our trail rations as well, resolving to hunt for food on the return trip."

He rested a hoof on her shoulder then, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You didn't tell me they were starving children. What are we supposed to do, leave them to die?"

Hadn't she? Amie had been light on details about her camp, for fear she might make them seem too weak, and not a worthwhile trading partner. She didn't want to invite another tyrant to invade and take over, either. They had enough of those.

"I hoped you wouldn't," she said. "Our outlook was grim. But I know those campers—they're brave, smart, and resourceful. With the right opportunity, we could really build something out here. Some of—" She stopped abruptly. Explaining the mesh network Rick had already built was only sharing more than she needed about their technical abilities. "We deserve a chance."

"The Elders may agree with you," he said. "If you can convince them, the Queen may hear you. That decision is not mine to make, and it is not yours." He gestured up into the air. "We return. You have an oath to keep now, Amie Blythe. You and Wes Blythe will return with us to the city, and present yourselves. As agreed."

Now? Amie's mind raced with sudden panic. She had only made things official with Tailslide last night. She could still smell him, though his scent was greatly diffused by fire and lake water and blood. Mostly blood.

"I need time to prepare. There are some things I need to leave running, while I'm gone. Give me until nightfall. My brother and I will join you outside the city."

He settled down beside the campfire. "That is acceptable. Do you have any glamour to offer to my party, while we wait? We carry no rations."

She winced. "You mean that liquid magic stuff? I... have no idea how you get it? I've got more magic than I know what to do with, but I've never seen any. I keep a little bottle in my pack whenever I'm with ponies, waiting for it to collect. But none ever does."

Pachu’a froze, looking her up and down. Then he broke into laughter, loud and sincere. "You are... you're not serious! You don't know where it comes from, do you?"

She reached into her saddlebags, undoing the flap and removing the little bottle. The insides were still dry, courtesy of royal guard engineering and wax. She uncorked the bottle with her beak, then offered it to him. "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Many things, I suspect," he said, congenially. "But I'm certain you have none to offer me. There are fish bones between us, and the smell is fresh. You are eating meat to survive. Glamour cannot be made from this. It is barely enough to sustain you, as your friends and colleagues in the mountains have seen. It is the last resort of the desperate and starving, nothing more."

I did feel hungry this morning. She still did, so powerfully she was surprised he couldn't tell. "But if I did..." she continued, casually. "How would I share it?"

"Some vessel sealed away from the air," he explained. "If it is exposed too long, it will harden into wax. It can be mixed with sand and gravel to make an exceptionally strong concrete. To extract it, use your fangs, and bite through. That's why there was wax over the canteen I gave you. It can be filled when pride is plentiful, and emptied again when it is scarce."

Amie didn't stay to interrogate him further. She had now reached the end of her time in Agate. Could she set everything in motion in a single day?

Chapter 41

Amie could not fly back to the city, even ignoring the boat she had to return. When she was sure nopony was watching—besides the little group of “pegasi” gathering by her campfire—Amie changed again. This time it was the bat self that seemed the more natural.

In some ways, she'd used this body more in one night than any other since the Transit. Maybe she should try to talk Pachu'a into letting her bring a pony with her to the Elders?

But that wouldn't be safe for him, a juicy steak surrounded by hungry carnivores. Whatever was waiting for her and her brother with the other changeling tribe, the last thing Amie was going to do was invite someone else into danger. It would already be difficult enough to protect her brother.

If only she could take to the air and fly back into town. Maybe she should see if Rick or Beth could use the same power she did to control her body instead. Could they teach her to fly the way she'd helped them transform for the first time?

Arranging everything for her departure was a complex endeavor, made more so by the risks to all those staying behind. First she met up with her campers, who were both laying low in her quarters.

She explained the new supply of food, and what the bugs would be expecting from them in exchange. "So Wes and I have to go meet with their leaders. Except... if we leave, we'll lose the Rent-a-Friend."

"Is that a problem?" Wes asked. While Amie spoke, he'd been packing again—this time carefully, instead of just throwing various things into a sack and hoping for the best. They had an entire day, after all. "We were saving money to travel to Canterlot. Your friend is doing that for us."

"It's a problem because... have you seen the building? We have all this space, and my boss wants to hire more help. Changelings who can play any kind of creature they have to. It's not about the money. I'm not even sure what we'll do with that. Maybe buy some farm animals or... not sure yet. But it doesn't matter. We have a job that wants us to be friends with ponies. Being friends gives us food."

She circled around them, tapping up against the door with her hoof. "If we can stay hidden here, I could start bringing other campers over—the oldest ones to work, and the youngest ones to keep safe from Albrecht. They could share some of the food they gather befriending ponies with the younger ones, who hide in these rooms. As of now, the boss has to keep all this floor empty, since we're dangerous and no one else can know we exist. See where I'm going?"

Rick shook his head once. "But you have to leave. Think your boss will let you come back?”

"No. I think you two are about to be us." Amie shed her bat body, striding between them. "You need a way to get fed anyway. Bud has been around me so few times that he probably wouldn't recognize one changeling from another. And he knows I have a brother here. Beth, you get to be a hippogriff. Rick, you could visit the city's libraries as long as you keep your head down and don't lead anyone back here. As a pony, obviously. Beth would have to share some food with you in a few days, when you get hungry again."

"How?" Beth prompted. "That's possible? Of course it is, you're saying it. You can do all kinds of things no one figured out before you."

Amie levitated Pachu'a's gift canteen off a hook, then held it out in front of her. She smoothed the wax so it covered the whole opening, then bit down with her fangs. What happened after was... almost automatic. Not venom, as she would've expected from a snake or similar creature in her place. The bottle shook in her grip for a moment, and she felt her magical reserves emptying. The amount was significant, though given how much more she could hold, it barely drained the level on her growing reserve.

Only when she had filled the canteen did she cap it, then pass it to Rick. "That won't work if you ate meat, only if you fed on emotions. Speaking of which..."

She flicked the fridge open, and tossed everything they hadn't eaten yet into her saddlebag for the trip, along with everything else edible in the apartment. Shame there wasn't more time to cook. "Don't let Rick starve, Beth. I already spoke with Albrecht about transferring over my bugs, but I won't try to orchestrate that while I'm away. For now, don't get caught, and keep the job going with my boss."

They had a little more to explain, little details she'd picked up, helping Beth copy the hippogriff form she'd already designed for the job, and reviewing some details about ponies that she ought to know. Whatever Beth got wrong could probably be brushed off as cultural differences between hippogriffs and ponies. It was a perfect first assignment.

There was only one more task Amie absolutely had to accomplish before she was done—saying goodbye to Ivy. Her friend had just decided to uproot her entire life, even earlier than her father demanded. There was no way she could let the pony just walk away.

She galloped across town to the base, flashed her usual badge, then made her way inside. She found Ivy in her quarters, surrounded by folding boxes half-packed with her stuff.

"Hey," Amie said gently. "Need some help with all that?"

"A—" Ivy took a second to consider, then corrected herself. "Rain Fly. Wasn't sure I'd see you again. My dad was so eager to get rid of me, he organized an entire troop transport just to put me on it. We're leaving first thing tomorrow."

Amie glanced nervously to either side, in case anypony had overheard. But she could see no signs of anyone listening. Even if there were, what would they have heard? Not enough. "That's... rough. I'll have to give you a raincheck on everything else we planned." But I was going to do that anyway since I'm leaving tonight.

They talked for a while about climbing and hiking and rafting and all the exciting things that would now have to wait for another lifetime. Eventually Amie packed up one of the last boxes, and removed one of the few objects in her satchel, holding it in her magic. "I brought you this. It's not much, but... I wanted to give you something to remember me."

It was a photograph, one of the collages she had once used to decorate her staff cabin. It was one of the few that didn't include her family—those were too precious for Amie to part with. Ivy took it, holding it close. "What is it?"

"The city I grew up in," Amie said. "I took that photo myself, during a hike. That's the place I'm trying to get back to. On the back, I copied what we know about traveling worlds. It's not a lot to go on, but... it's something. And now you're holding a genuine artifact of another universe."

Ivy's magic faltered, and her eyes watered. "Y-you shouldn't. You can't get more, once they're gone..."

"Thanks to you, I will," Amie said. "We hope. Though I admit, I don't know how we'll pass that information back and forth." I can't give you my address without telling you where I worked.

The other unicorn tucked her gift away. "That's easy. You can visit! It might take a while—two weeks, maybe three. Then you can find me at my family's estate. It'll be really lonely, I'd love the company."

If only she had another phone to offer her. But carrying something that obvious would definitely be a dangerous risk to take. They were already hanging so much of their hope on one girl going where she didn't belong. The fewer of those risks they left exposed, the better.

"I wish I had something to give you in return," Ivy finished, when they'd sealed the last of her boxes. "I haven't known you that long, but it feels like... feels like it's been months."

Amie shook her head once. "You've already given me more than you know. If you can find that magic, you might even give me back my home. And if not, at least I'll know there are some great ponies in this one. It's nice to know they don't all hate me."

They parted with one last tearful hug. In that moment, Amie learned that some negative emotions could be a feast for her too, under the right circumstances.

Commander Path was just outside the barracks as she made her way out, alone. He gestured for her, keeping his voice a low whisper. "When my daughter leaves this base tomorrow, that's it. Your duty is well done, and now it is finished. Don't let me catch you using base resources anymore."

"I won't, sir." She nodded politely, but didn't salute. "Have a good evening."

She made to leave, but he stopped her with one leg, blocking her escape. "One last piece of friendly advice. A little pony like you shouldn't be adventuring around Agate anymore. We're on the border of an extremely dangerous preserve filled with murderous changelings. They have killed, and they will kill again if they get the chance. It's much harder for my brave ponies to do their job if civilians are putting themselves in harm's way. Don't let them catch you near the border."

He was barely even looking at her. To Path, Amie was hardly a distraction—a soldier whose duty was done and would now fade silently into the background. But if he was more attentive, he might've caught me by now. I should be grateful. "You won't," she promised. "I'll find something less dangerous to do, sir, promise."

That last part was definitely a lie. But the base commander didn't seem to notice. He lifted his hoof, then finally let her leave. Amie turned her back on Agate Base, probably for the last time. May you continue to ignore the changelings moving freely in your own city.

Amie had less time to spend with Tailslide when the final whistle blew, and he left his work. Enough time for her to drag him to the same buffet from their first night together. Only this time, she paid for herself as well, and filled the plate with everything that smelled edible.

To her shock, that was almost everything. Anything based on straw and lettuce still smelled off to her. But to her bat pony nose, the fruit smelled absolutely wonderful, and many of the steamed veggies weren't bad either.

"I didn't think you had much of an appetite," Tailslide said. "That's... a lot. You know they make you pay for anything you don't finish."

Amie answered by devouring an entire mango in a few bites. "And here I am finishing it."

He sat back in his seat, watching her empty half the plate while barely touching his. "That's... how are you doing this?"

"Maybe I'm cured. Finally getting over my illness, thanks to some good friends. Wes has always been able to eat just fine. I could be finding the secret."

There were plenty of other patrons nearby. Tailslide looked around the restaurant, then sighed. "I hope so. I'd like to see every... sick pony from your home get well again." He reached across the table, resting one hoof on hers. "You think last night had something to do with it? I'd love to experiment a little more and find out."

She grinned back at him. "I would too, more than anything. But... Tailslide, I have to go for a bit. I don't know how long—I'm told the trip is a day by rail in each direction."

He jerked his hoof back. "You could've mentioned that last night!"

Several nearby patrons looked up, giving him dirty looks. Even the raucous buffet had its limits. "Might've changed my mind about some things!"

"I'm not leaving!" She hissed under her breath. "The mountain is too important to me. And I've already warned the... you can still stay at my place. Just don't mistake anypony for me."

He ate in silence for a few minutes, attacking his plate like one of Equestria's sworn enemies. "Is there a reason this is happening now?"

How much could she say in mixed company? "I'm saving lives," she said. "Getting food for ponies in need. If I didn't go, they wouldn't eat. I'll be back. But if you don't want to wait... I wouldn't blame you. I have enough bits to cover a ticket back to Cloudsdale, if you want one."

He picked at what was left of his plate. "Is there any reason I can't come with you?"

"Yes," she said flatly. "But I'll be back! So far as I'm concerned, you're still my... coltfriend? That's the word. I'm sure by the time I get back here, I'll be desperate for company. Don't get into trouble while I'm gone."

Tailslide rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one who has to worry."

Chapter 42

Amie left Agate less than an hour later, traveling with her brother. She'd pushed things so late with Tailslide that they very nearly had to sneak past the gates and get around the curfew.

Wes surprised her with a new body just before they left, a pegasus similar to the form she'd given Rick. She suspected he had copied it from him, only changing the color of his coat. "You didn't want to keep using the unicorn?"

He nodded. "He didn't seem like the kind of pony who would go on adventures like that. He wants to stay safe inside the city walls, surrounded by his books. Where we're going, I need to be an adventurer like you!"

"I don't know if I qualify. But I'll take the compliment.”

They carried far less on this trip than their flight from Stella Lacus. Some camping supplies, but neither gun, nor very little of the human artifacts in general. Only their phones and a single solar charger came with them. Even that much was a risk, depending on the generosity and honesty of strangers. But if they couldn't trust their future allies, Stella Lacus really was screwed.

"I wish we had more time," Amie continued, as soon as they were out past the wall, and any chance of being overheard. Strange how fast she could adjust to having a new pony beside her, with a new scent, new voice, new appearance. She could easily accept Wes's new identity, while still curious about how he might behave. She had only herself as a sample so far, to test what she thought about how form affected behavior. "I would've bought camping gear from the ponies instead of bringing our old stuff."

"Ponies can make it better?" Wes asked, curious.

"Not even close," she answered, without thinking. “It's heavier, bulkier, and worse in every way. But the stranger stuff ponies find, the more reason they'll have to be suspicious if they search us."

Wes shrugged. "You think that's a problem where we're going? Around... others like us? Aren't we on the same side?"

Amie didn't answer for a long time. They walked the same trail to the lake that Amie had traveled the day before. Part of her wished Tailslide was coming instead. Her brother was naive and defenseless. Tailslide, by contrast, was a royal guard, powerful and confident.

But lying to Wes wouldn't make the situation any easier. "Imagine a forest near a city. We are the wolves who live in that forest. The people in the city want to hunt us to extinction. We can work together with the other wolves to stop this from happening, to learn the best hiding places and ways to hunt. But at the same time, we can't forget that we're spending time with wolves. We eat the same food, and their teeth are as sharp as ours. Sharper—they're older, they know the forest better than we do."

"I... think I understand." Wes slowed as they reached the abandoned dock. All the same boats were moored here, untouched from when Amie had been here last. Her coins were still the only ones in the bucket. "We don't have a choice, we need the other wolves to survive. But they don't need us."

She tossed in a few more than before, then unhooked the rowboat. This one isn't gonna get returned. My apologies, whoever runs this place. "Exactly. We have to convince them we don't want to eat any of the same food, but that we're good friends to have. We're not a threat, but we're not too weak either. We're useful."

Wes nudged the boat nervously, spreading both wings. Even without the heavy saddlebags, there was no chance he could fly with them. "You know how to do that?"

Not a clue. Amie couldn't get away with lying to Wes, even when it was only meant to reassure him. "I'm going to play it by ear. I know... what the camp has to offer. And I know some ways having us around could be helpful. The part I don't know is how not to look too vulnerable. I've spent weeks with ponies, learning how they're like. I know nothing about changelings. I only learned how to share magic this morning, when Pachu'a showed me."

"And we still don't know why you get to have hair." She urged him into the boat, and finally he complied. She did the hard work, rowing them with both legs. But Amie had always been the more physical of the two. Taking care of her brother was just the way things worked.

She couldn't enjoy the sunset like she had the night before. Instead of an evening alone with Tailslide, she would be spending her night with hunters. "Whatever happens, I'll protect you," Amie promised. "No one hurts my kids, or my family. You're both."

"Bold of you to assume I won't be the one protecting you," Wes said. He stood, resting one hoof on the seat, and posing dramatically. The sudden shift made the boat start rocking violently left and right, threatening to capsize.

"Sit down!" Amie gasped, flapping both wings, and moving opposite to him. She had plenty of students do the same thing on their sailboats, which could all be toppled just as easily.

Wes slumped back into his seat, ears flattening. After a few tense seconds, Amie got the boat under control, and was sailing them forward again. Around the bend, and she saw the same place she'd made breakfast the morning before. A single pony lingered near the trees, a muscular earth pony with paint covering the eyes in dark shadows. He was dressed differently than the last time, but Amie recognized Pachu'a, since it was the same body as his prospector.

He watched them come in silence, unmoving. Only when they reached the shore did he approach, watching as they hopped out of the water. Amie spread her wings, and tried to glide to shore. She cleared most of the way, but ended up splashing her hindlegs into the water, showering herself with a sudden burst of cold. That was far less relaxing than when she'd been a fishing bird.

Wes had worse luck, landing inches from the boat and flapping more water onto his body. He shivered, dragging his hooves through the mud. "You can't fly," Pachu'a said, watching them. "How is this possible? What skill is more essential to learn?"

"We haven't been here for generations," Amie said. Hopefully she struck the right balance, insistent without whiny or defensive. "My brother and I only gained our wings two months ago... not quite. How many newborns can fly in that much time?"

Other shapes emerged from the trees. Both were pegasus ponies, the same ones she'd seen from that morning. "We may have time for lessons on the way," Pachu'a said, waving them into the trees. "It is good we came with an expedition. We can return by rail. I do not know if the Elders will grant you use of the network to come back this way. You will need to discuss it with them."

There was one comfort when entering the woods with a group of strange men in the middle of the night—Amie could still read their feelings. They might not be powerful enough to feed on, but they would give themselves away if they were plotting something. She hoped.

"You have your own tracks? How'd you build them without Equestria noticing?"

One of the pegasi laughed. "We use theirs. Listening ears in the right places, and we know their schedules. Or if the route is too busy, we can always book a freight-car."

They did not walk for long. Not even a minute, before Amie felt emotions growing in the other of Pachu'a's hunters. Suspicion, that quickly grew into defiance. "I will go no further until we know the truth of them," Pavati said, fluttering directly into her path. "I will not be the bug to lead spies into our nest."

Magic flashed from around her, and the pegasus was replaced with a changeling. She was leaner than Pachu'a, though matched him several other ways. She had the same orange frills, and tattoos on her face and side. They were less extensive than the ones Amie remembered from Pachu'a, though, with a simpler swirl design.

She probably would've stared at them if the bug let her. Instead, the changeling advanced, baring her fangs. "Abandon the disguise, hunter. I demand to see."

"Him first." Pachu'a changed in a similar flash of magic, then gestured at Wes. "We can't return with a spy, but we also can't return without a promise fulfilled. Show yourself, as I show myself."

Wes stopped just beside Amie, touching her side for reassurance. He whimpered, wings opening. Pony wings were too heavy to buzz with his anxiety, so they just flapped once. "Relax! Just let me... I'm still new at this." It took him almost a minute to change back, with their escorts growing increasingly suspicious as the seconds passed.

Finally he vanished, replaced with the colorful variation of an ordinary changeling. Pachu'a's companions both gasped. Amie felt their shock with some satisfaction. Pachu'a experienced only a touch of relief, before turning on Amie. "Now you. I can tell you're the same bug, but it doesn't matter. You see the custom—one form is shown, another must be given in response. I for your brother, and Pavati for you."

Amie nodded. She would have to remember this particular performance for the visit ahead. God help her if she accidentally used it with a pony. "I understand." She closed her eyes, then shed her disguise. It took very little concentration from her, really just a few seconds.

Amie's transformation was no more dramatic than any previous time. One moment she looked like a pony, and the next she was the scary not-pony creature. Even in the first few days she had mastered the technique, eliminating a disguise took almost no effort. It was forming the body where things went wrong.

But from the reaction of the changelings with her, Amie had done something wrong. Pavati gasped, her mouth hanging open in shock. Pachu'a froze in place, not looking away. In that instant, she felt shock from the changelings as real as any pony emotion. For the other male hunter it wasn't even surprise, but pure terror, making him retreat behind Pachu'a for protection.

Amie looked between them, flaring her wings to either side. "If I've got toilet paper on my hoof, you can just tell me," she said flatly. "Whatever you're looking for..."

Anger flared in Pavati, but not at her. She spun towards Pachu'a, baring her teeth. When she spoke, it was in a frustrated hiss. "How could you not know this? You saw her before, you testified to all of us. How is there a queen before us now?"

Chapter 43

A queen? Amie turned over the word, baffled. But she said nothing, just closed both of her wings and waited. The last thing she wanted to do to a group of armed, frightened people was give them a reason to fear her. Another reason, anyway.

"I sensed strange emanations from her," Pachu'a shot back, defiant. "But nothing like this. It must be a change. We see history unfold before our eyes—the emergence of the Queen of all their tribe. And we are the first bugs to witness her. We may be recorded in that account with honor."

Then he faced Amie again, and bowed dramatically. The other two imitated him, spreading their wings as wide as they would go. Then he spoke again, with a voice like a religious incantation.

"We, sent by one who is greater, meet in supplication to one who is great. May you treat us with mercy, knowing other eyes watch through ours." Then they froze, expectant.

No one moved, no one spoke.

Until Wes did. "Not to interrupt, but what the hell is going on?" he asked. "Why are you talking to my sister like that? Amie's pretty great, she saved my life twice since we got banished. But we're not royalty. Our country doesn't even believe in that stuff—people being better than other people. We even had a war about it once."

Pachu'a ignored him. The other two bugs looked frustrated, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. "The customary response is a promise of forbearance and neutrality," he said. "Ancient custom requires that queens never come into conflict with ordinary bugs, only each other. So we ask for your mercy, and you grant it. That's how it works."

The implication—that somehow Amie could've wiped out these bugs easily, and it was only fear of some distant master that would stay her hand—was obvious silliness. What kind of fighting did they think she could manage? She had a handgun, at best she could score a single hit before the other two closed and killed her.

"Of course I grant my... mercy," she said, exasperated. "Pachu'a, I thought we were on the same side. We were allies a few minutes ago, why would that change now? I'm the same bug you've been working with this entire time."

He rose, and the other two did likewise. They remained firmly behind him now, never looking directly at her. "Looking after the needs of your starving bugs, organizing their affairs even when you were separate..." Pachu'a said. "I should've seen the signs. This drive possesses every queen. She is fiercely loyal to those of her swarm. Lesser insects need not be so loyal."

Amie rolled her eyes. "I'm not 'possessed' of anything," she repeated. "I look after them because it's the right thing to do. It's moral to protect the helpless, from your tribe or mine or ponies or other weird aliens I haven't even met yet."

She looked away, frustrated. Every new second was another reminder of how much she didn't know. "How can you even tell? You're right about... different powers. Maybe that means a queen. But I haven't used any of them in front of you."

Pavati laughed, her voice the usual strange reverberations. "You look like a queen. Your eyes, and mane for one. Every queen I've ever met was carrying eggs too, can't quite tell in the dark if you are..." She pressed in suddenly close, staring at Amie's belly. At least she didn't press with a hoof.

She blushed, backing away. Just when she started to forget about how naked she was, someone had to do something like that. "Pachu'a, does this change anything? We promised to go with you. Will your Elders still see us, even if I'm a... queen?"

He nodded hastily. "Of course. Queen Kaya will be required to attend, by custom. She will want to see you personally. Now that there is one among the Green Swarm with authority to conduct negotiations—it changes much. We can do more than send gifts back and forth. Real treaties may be signed."

She read his emotions, the truth and confidence behind his words. She searched for any sign of violence or treachery—maybe the orange bugs would see this as an opportunity to eliminate a rival before she grew strong. But she felt nothing from him, only enthusiasm, mixed with ambition. If things went well, the treaties they signed would be credited to him.

If only her brother could communicate with her the same way as the other green bugs. He might not have had to say what he said next. "Amie, I don't... Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It is always a good idea to honor oaths," Pavati hissed. "Perhaps you do not understand, as you are unlike any changeling I have ever seen. But among our kind—civilized bugs keep their promises, no matter what. Is your swarm civilized?"

"Yes," Amie said. She touched up against her brother, resting her wing over his back. She was still shorter than he was, but the difference was less than she remembered. She no longer had to reach up quite as high. "My brother and I are... newcomers to your world. It is very different from our home. We will still be civilized."

"Then conceal yourself again," Pachu'a commanded. "With respect, great one of another swarm. But you still do not know the way, and it is still proper for you to follow my directions. Unless you know the way to Sonoma without them."

In answer, Amie changed back, returning to the bat pony shape she'd worn with Tailslide the night before. If only she cared a little less about taking care of her kids, she might've spent the night with him, instead of venturing straight into danger with these almost-strangers. Even if the orange tribe could be powerful allies, that didn't make them less dangerous if provoked.

Wes took a little longer, but eventually managed too. The other hunters changed even quicker than Amie herself had, like they'd been doing it their whole lives. Because they had, obviously.

They set off along a trail known to Pachu'a. More than once he sent one of his hunters up into the air to check they were on the right path, and occasionally made small adjustments.

Wes continued on for several hours without much complaint. But as they walked, he eventually grew tired, and slowed their progress.

"I can't believe we're stopping so soon," Pavati snapped, around one or two in the morning. "We would've already been at the train junction by now if this queen and her mutant servant could fly. Are we supposed to sleep like prey?"

Wes struggled along, barely half as fast as their group was going. The trail wasn't cutting up mountains, but it was still dark, without so much as gravel to mark the way to go. "I can... make it..." he muttered groggily.

"My brother needs to sleep," Amie said, stopping in her tracks beside him. "I'm sorry, Pachu'a. He can't keep going."

The hunter stopped, scratching his false pony chin. Finally he pointed. "There are caves not far from here. We will give him the rest he requires." He turned to the side, speaking to his companions. "He is the true purpose of this expedition, remember. A bug with all our magic, but without dependence on our prey. We should not be surprised he shares some of their needs."

They continued another little while, with the two other hunters looking sour and frustrated. Amie felt why as surely as she sensed their feelings—this group was hungry. They'd probably given every drop of spare rations they had to the people of Stella Lacus, and now they were counting on returning home for more food.

She asked as much as soon as they'd reached the cave, and Wes was sound asleep in his oversized human sleeping bag. The other bugs made a small fire near the entrance, made only from sticks and twigs. It was just enough warmth to stave off the cold, if she got quite close.

"You three don't have anything to eat, do you?" Amie asked. "You gave everything you brought to the camp?"

Pachu'a nodded curtly. By the light of the fire, he returned to his changeling shape. The others did too, seeming relieved. That was probably a product of their hunger too—but Amie had known so little hunger since arriving that she couldn't know for sure. "You said a word before, ‘moral’. It would not be moral to keep for ourselves when so many starved. We had a short journey home, and could have hunted in Agate if we needed to. We did not."

"Do you have another canteen like the one you gave me?" Ami pressed.

They shared a look. Pavati's eyes narrowed. "Did you not listen, queen of another swarm? He said they were empty. We have no offering of glamour to give you despite your station, because we gave it to your swarm already."

Amie sighed. "I'm not asking for an offering. I'm going to share with you."

Pachu'a removed a canteen from his pack, exactly like the last one. He set it down on the ground beside Amie. "That is not the custom. It is very strange for a queen of one swarm to offer to another. But my hunters gave all we had, so the exchange seems... appropriate. I know you could not have hunted much without a swarm to serve you, I do not expect you to fill this. You had none this morning."

"I didn't know how to make glamour this morning." She did fill it, without much effort. Amie wasn't always overflowing with magic the way she used to be—now there was no maximum to the power she could contain. She levitated it back over. "Maybe when you're not hungry anymore, you could tell me what queens are like? We just got here, so I'm... clueless."

Before Pavati even opened her mouth, Amie cut her off. "No, I'm not asking for any dark secrets about your queen. I'm not asking you to be disloyal. Just... what even is a queen? What do they do?"

Her companions took their turns with the canteen, sipping at it. They seemed to drain very little at all before screwing the cap on tight and offering it back to Pachu'a to carry.

"Every swarm has its queen," he said slowly. "They are the oldest and wisest, with magical powers greater than many bugs at once. All within the swarm obey her absolutely. She gives birth to every egg, watches out of every eye, and can command her bugs directly when she wishes."

"And we really shouldn't say more," the other male said. "Forgiveness, strange queen. But your kind do not share openly with us. Whenever a queen births a nymph to spread the swarm beyond her sight, she instructs her daughter in private."

Pachu'a nodded his agreement. "Our queen, Kaya is wise and thoughtful. She guided our swarm through Equestria's great fear and the purge of all bugs they found. She keeps all bellies full, and minds our secrets. She can answer your questions."

They'd already given her more than she expected. It would be easy to let that be enough. Everything else about their magic, she could learn that later with new evidence and observations. But there was one thing, one very personal, frightening thing she'd heard in their hasty explanation.

"What do you mean eggs?" she asked. "Ponies don't do that, they give birth the same way we used to. Two partners, usually one child at a time. Humans needed nine months, I think ponies take eleven. Not... weird gross stuff."

The hunters shared another look, one she couldn't read. Pachu'a was confused when he answered. "I don't think I understand your meaning—weird, gross. These words do not apply. Though the swarms all differ from each other tremendously, all respect the miracle of life. Great resources are devoted to caring for the next generation. Other than the hunters, more bugs work in the nursery than in any other responsibility. They are second in honor only to those who feed the swarm."

Amie's stomach twisted. She might've puked, if she didn't still feel so incredibly hungry. While the others watched, Amie opened her saddlebags, removed a few cans of pony food, and started to eat. "I'm not sure I like the sound of... any of that. If I can't find a way to get everyone home, I'll... delegate that responsibility back to the people. Let them have their own kids.”

Pavati broke into near-hysterical laughter. The other two joined her, even Pachu'a. He was the one to finally speak. "I know queens are powerful beings, but even they are not so powerful." He eyed the can of sweet-peaches, which she'd already half-finished without a fork. "You may wish to ask Queen Kaya more about that sacred subject as well."

Chapter 44

The trip to Sonoma took days. They encountered very little civilization during the trip—a handful of hikers and adventuring ponies, or miners scouting out their own claims for future excavation. Any of those meetings might've turned tense, with Pachu'a's group content to intimidate them out of interaction.

But Amie knew ponies better than that. They just wanted a little friendly small-talk, maybe to stop and share lunch and gossip for a while. While the hunters might've raised suspicion, at least as a group of intimidating travelers out in the woods, she quickly put them at ease.

Maybe that was just another instinct. Once they became friendly with her, it meant a second kind of meal in addition to their trail rations.

"You really can eat anything," Pavati muttered, when a group of swarthy loggers finally left them to resume their slow paddling up the river. "Is that a queen's talent too?"

"No," Pachu'a answered instantly. "I've met Queen Kaya. She feeds on pride and accomplishment, the same as all our swarm. No other feelings. With all positive emotions set before you—every pony settlement would be a feast."

Amie nodded. "Ponies give far better food when they know who you are. I don't know if you've ever noticed that... but the more lies you have to hide behind, the less you get."

Pachu'a stopped in his tracks, staring at her. "How would a hunter even test such a theory? Prey are instantly hostile to all our kind. The instinct is deep and primordial, making their minds cloudy and slow. Look at how they occupy your camp like a warzone, when the reality is an exile of weak and starving."

Amie opened her mouth to argue—then shut it again. She could tell them about Ivy's willingness to accept her, and the friendship they had built. But Pachu'a watched her with such concern that Amie looked away. They don't want to believe ponies and changelings can get along. Why?

One more question to ask their queen when they finally arrived.

Eventually the hiking ended, and they reached their destination. It was a little railroad station, complete with a switch and a telegraph line. Pachu'a opened the building, revealing a single machine connected to the wire, occasionally spitting out another message of dots and dashes on a thin paper tape.

The other male hunter took it with a sheet of paper, then worked silently for a few minutes. Eventually he stood up, holding his page. "The train will be safe now. But we will need to make good time to the Turquoise Junction, or else risk meeting the Salt Lick Express going the other direction."

Pachu'a waved them all out of the building again, locked it tight, then back into a larger warehouse behind. Inside was a piece of living history.

Amie recognized a steam train from plenty of old photos, though that was as far as her understanding went. The engine had a coal wagon behind it, then a single passenger car behind that. Amie had no idea how any of it worked, just got into the passenger car beside Pachu'a.

Wes lit up as soon as he saw the old machine, chatting excitedly with the other hunter about track gages and boiler pressure and lots of other things that Amie didn't know or care about. The bug was only too eager to let Wes be the one to shovel coal, or work the water pump.

"He seems familiar with rail," Pachu'a said, taking the seat opposite Amie. "Was your brother an engineer in the ancient homeland? That would... perhaps begin to explain his connection to a queen. One of value and understanding."

She suppressed a giggle. "My brother has... basic understanding of many things. His problem was never being able to settle on a single interest. His knowledge is vast, and shallow."

The hunter nodded. He trimmed a little gas lamp in the car, then brought over a bottle and a single glass for her. "I'm afraid we use this route too infrequently to store anything fresher for either of you. Most bugs don't eat, as you know. But some of us enjoy this. I know the vineyard, and the winemaker. Every bottle is prepared with incredible devotion. You can taste the pride in their work."

Amie let him pour a single glass. She sipped, and found the taste was exactly as good as described. Most of her enjoyment came without any magical sustenance, though. It was less that the liquid provided any nourishment, and more that there was just enough emotion in the bottle to change the taste.

To her relief, Wes did eventually return, right before they rolled away from the hidden rail station. He stumbled in with his hooves covered in coal dust and his mane wild from the wind. "Did you know they have hundreds of little stations like this?" he asked, grinning. "Wouldn't it be awesome to live in one? Service the trains coming by, helping passengers, stamping tickets... It's like being back in the wild west! Without the shootouts."

I hope, Amie thought. She waved for Pachu'a to put away the bottle, before her brother could get any ideas. Not that a glass of underage drinking was even on their radar compared to all the other awful things they had to deal with.

Once they left the trails for rails, the trip was incredibly rapid. By sunset, they had already left the mountains behind, passing through desert wilderness that would've been equally at home in the American Southwest. They passed through a few towns along the way, without stopping to pick up passengers. None of those ponies had any idea who rode the mysterious ghost-train.

Then they came to a hidden switch, which took them off the well-maintained pony route and onto a hidden track. By dawn, they'd arrived in another secret waystation, where the train could be looped around and backed into a storage building.

Wes stepped out of the train first, wearing his unicorn disguise again. His hooves landed in tan desert dirt, tail flicking nervously behind him. "It's like that summer we saw the Grand Canyon, Amie. Remember?"

She landed beside him. So far from Agate, she didn't worry too much about reusing Rain Fly. She'd been the pegasus so often that it felt more natural to her than almost any other shape. Only the bat was easier, thanks to how she'd used it. But smaller felt like a better match, when she worried about being noticed.

"I remember someone being too scared of heights for the glass bridge. Bet you'd be brave enough to do it now though."

He nodded weakly. "Yeah. Heights... Rick can fly, Amie. We really gotta learn how to do that." He drifted off, following the other hunters to help with final maintenance for the train. They didn't refuse his help, even if he had to be told explicitly what to do at every step. Amie and Pachu'a waited outside the building for them to finish, watching the sunrise together.

"We draw close to the great city of Sonoma, our hidden capital. Don't listen to what the tribe of Red or Blue whispers to you, it is the greatest ever carved by any swarm. It is an honor to be accepted there as guests."

Amie nodded. "I'm a little surprised you had hunters so far away. A day of flight and another day by rail, that seems like a long way. Why not hunt closer to the city?"

He stiffened, considering her before he answered. "Sometimes I forget—you come from a world of plenty. The ancient Homeland is a great and prosperous place, is it not? Great herds of prey wander from one side to the other, so vast they blot out the plains. The old stories say that no one ever wants for food."

What was he talking about? Great herds of prey... "No one wants for food in this part of the world," she said. "There are others less fortunate. Our homeworld wasn't perfect. There were wars, some great. And humans were not always kind to each other. Ponies could teach them a few lessons about that."

Pachu'a laughed. "And you think ponies are always kind? You have been living with them too long, if you think that is so. Cast your eyes back to the camp, and see the state they created. It is a... painful example to all bugs, of how ponies would see us die. Starving and alone, waiting to freeze."

He seemed to expect her to do something, judging by the way he retreated from her. That queen magic stuff, maybe. She was tempted to try—but not in such a strange place, where she would be left so vulnerable. If something happened with Wes, she would be ready.

"You're right. I got to know Commander Path in Agate, and he was an asshole. But sometimes being with them reminds me of home. Makes it easier to forget what was taken from us."

She flicked her tail at the railroad again. The other hunters were just about finished cleaning up, covering the building with a complex, interwoven net. From above, it would probably make it look like a rock, blending into the environment. "So why hunt so far away? If I'm really a queen, I might need to know things like this. Might as well learn from the civilized bugs who came before us."

He nodded slowly. "True Pride is more difficult to harvest than any emotion the other swarms require. There is little enough to go around that we must scatter from one end of Equestria to the other. I will... not tell you of our fertile hunting grounds, this knowledge is secret. But I will say that wherever ponies achieve, even small achievements like new mines in the mountains or what they believe to be a successful containment of a dangerous threat—we may harvest some for the swarm."

It's was her turn to laugh. She wobbled, and only caught herself on Wes when he approached. The bugs stared at her, watching with confusion. Only after she was fully struggling to breathe did she finally manage to stop herself.

"What happened?" Pavati demanded. "What did the huntmaster say that amuses you, strange queen?"

She finally stopped, still breathing raggedly. "I just realized. The ponies of Agate—their military outpost is worse than useless. They have failed to trap the bugs of my... swarm. Several have escaped without their notice, and we're planning to get many more free. But they believe they're so successful, they can be proud enough to feed another swarm of hunters from far away. Commander Path deserves a promotion."

Compared to the constant chill wind of Agate, Amie found the harsh sun incredibly refreshing. Instead of being on the edge of freezing, every little gust of wind helped her relax, making the hike surprisingly comfortable.

They walked no marked trail, just an endless expanse through red desert. Vast stone monuments rose on all sides, though none were recognizable to her. If only she cared a little bit more about geography, she might be able to verify a theory growing in the back of her mind.

There were hidden wells buried under shallow sand, ready for them to stop and refresh their water. Other than that, there was only sparse vegetation, and very few animals.

"Seems like a strange place to put your capital," Wes muttered, as they began hiking up one identical slope of rock among many others. "Where are you supposed to grow your crops? You can't have farms out here."

"We don't have farms anywhere," Pavati said. At least she wasn't acting constantly suspicious around Wes anymore. "Farming is for prey—they can eat the fruit of the land. With their magic, they can even turn this place fertile. But we don't need it. We don't rely on pegasi for weather control, either. Wild storms sweep over this place, scaring away unwanted visitors."

"There is a railway leading directly into Sonoma," Pachu'a said. "Whatever we need travels by that route, hidden underground. We have... skilled negotiators and merchants. But we do not need to import much. The swarm is industrious and dedicated. There is no craft we can't master."

Then they reached a turn in the trail, and Amie got her first look at Sonoma.

Author's Note

It appears this chapter did not get published at the correct time. For now, my goal is just to make sure that everything gets up when it should, though it may mean this double-week means a future week will lack a chapter.

Chapter 45

It was carved entirely into the face of a vast sandstone formation, contained beneath a curved, vaulted ceiling. Its externally-facing buildings were blended expertly into the rock, matching the color perfectly and with very narrow windows. But as they approached, she saw the vast space behind them—many streets and levels stacked on each other. There were few walkways connecting them, but why would there have to be?

Now she understood the use of the word “swarm.” She could think of no other way to describe the constant activity she saw, like looking into an open beehive. Thousands of changelings moved in that city—carrying things, working in sunlit courtyards, or just walked along the walls from place to place.

The city was a true hive, continuing down into the earth like a termite mound. A constant breeze of cold air drifted out towards them, carrying with it the scent of many, many bugs. She had smelled it before, when turning over logs in the woods, and scattering whole communities of insects from beneath.

It didn't disgust her the way it had then.

Her awe was apparently the appropriate reaction. Pachu'a let the two of them stand and stare for as long as they wanted, taking in the incredible scope. His body flashed, and suddenly the tattooed hunter was beside them again. "Go no closer in disguise," he said. "If it pleases you, strange queen. Civilized bugs do not hide their faces from each other. We change only when we require the powers of another body, or while hunting."

So much for looking small and unintimidating. Amie sighed, then dismissed her illusion. Her brother did the same a few seconds later. At least they were still far enough that the whole city didn't stop to stare. "How do you keep such a secret? Ponies must've found you by now."

"No pony ever travels here," Pachu'a answered. "And we accept no guests from other tribes whose location we do not also know. If some vile creature turned against all standards of cooperation and mutual benefit—it would be fierce, devastating war. And it would probably fail besides. We have taken measures in Equestrian society, guiding them away from this place and others like it."

"Nobody wants to live out here," Pavati added. "Ponies don't appreciate the heat. Without a shelter like ours, they never stay long. Their towns are small. But we watch for explorers, make sure they go somewhere else."

Amie could hardly imagine the scale of maintaining such a conspiracy. Not quite on the level of faking a moon landing, but—how many hunters did it take to keep a city this big fed?

"We would never betray your trust," Amie said. "Your help saved our lives. We want only peace and cooperation with our... cousins."

Pachu'a nodded. "If we thought otherwise, I would've left you to the ponies to discover and punish. But the Elders are... hopeful of what you represent. Your brother's nature could mean a change for all tribes, if we understand him."

Soon they reached the city proper, entering through one of many doors cut into the rock. Amie's hunter escort radiated annoyance at having to walk inside, rather than fly. But no number of angry looks would teach her and her brother to fly.

The city was even more impressive from inside. It was organized like nothing she'd ever seen—every structure built on each other, with a dense connecting spine traveling to each building. Through it flowed water, waste, and electricity. If visiting Agate was like stepping into the past of her own civilization, Sonoma was seeing the way aliens might build.

Amie knew nothing of civics or city planning, so she couldn't really tell what they were looking at exactly. But there were very few private areas, no homes or apartments she could see. Every building had multiple entrances and exits, and traffic passed through them all.

At least they had some familiar things. There was plenty of art—rich woven blankets and tapestries, sparkling jewelry of semi-precious stones, and of course the tattoos. Almost everyone was naked, displaying the tattoos along their bodies with pride. There were themes to each group, though she didn't know enough to tell them apart.

There was music too, echoing from many parts of the city at once. She heard woodwinds and drums mostly, mixed with rhythmic chanting. Maybe she was imagining things, but the working bugs seemed to move along to the music, surging forward when it rose, and slowing down when it ebbed.

As Pachu'a had said, she saw many bugs tending to the young. They looked—nothing like children. There were eggs, crawling things somewhere between her and a maggot—then the bugs she guessed were their kids.

The hunters led them steadily downward through the city. Wherever they went, bugs stopped what they were doing to stare at Amie. They parted respectfully ahead of her, and sometimes even bowed. Amie felt their shock and amazement at every junction and street. Some of that was for her, but just as much was for Wes—maybe even more of it. They'd seen visiting queens before, but not whatever kind of bug he represented.

Finally they reached deep underground, beyond the touch of the sun. The air here was cooler, and perpetually damp with condensation. It soothed her aching body after a long journey, made her sigh with subtle relief. This was the climate bugs were meant to live in. Damp and warm. What did that make her, a cockroach?

The city continued into a series of mazelike burrows, taking them around and backwards and up again in a way that seemed deliberately calculated to confuse her.

"How does anyone get around?" Amie asked. "There are no signs or addresses in this place. It can't be efficient to memorize it all."

"Smell," Pavati answered. "Every job has its scents. The nursery, workshops, hospital... each one is different. Every bug can follow."

But not her. There were many smells here, invisible trails crossing in every direction. Amie could tell them apart, but that didn't mean she would be able to follow one.

Finally they came to a fine stone facade, covered in glittering green... glass? It looked softer, and had its own smell. The bugs had carved many intricate patterns into it, with similar styles to the ones they used on their tattoos. There was only one doorway here, wide and perpetually open.

"The Elders are inside," Pachu'a said. "Given that we walked all the way down here, I don't doubt they will be waiting for you. They already knew the date of our arrival, so there is no need to announce you." He gestured inside, but Amie didn't obey.

"Is there anything we should know before we go in? We don't know any of your rules. We might be able to follow your customs if you tell us what they are."

“The Elders do not expect much from formalities,” he began. “They are older than any other bugs in Sonoma, hence their name. That age has given them wisdom you can’t imagine. Each of them has gone blind, but in payment for that sacrifice, they have gained another kind of sight.”

He lowered his voice, glancing nervously to either side. “It is no secret, yet it is not something to be discussed lightly. These bugs can see into the future. They are the reason I was in Agate at the right moment to find you. Their magic is without equal in all the world.”

Amie grinned, waiting for the punchline. It didn’t come. Pachu'a just stared back, expression resolved. She sensed only the same total confidence he always radiated. He believed what he said.

“How does that work?” Wes asked. “Does everything they see always happen? Can they guess which finger I’ll hold up?”

The hunter shook his head sharply. “They feel only the general shape of the future. Yet their visions are not absolute, or they would serve only to torment us. Their foresight gives us a direction to aim, and shows what we should change. They did not tell me another swarm of changelings had arrived—they told me that I could prevent much suffering if I traveled into the mountains. When I left, we imagined it was our own. We were wrong.”

Amie and Wes shared a look. Wes’s skepticism remained. Amie was less certain—she’d seen so much strange magic since coming to Equestria that she couldn’t be sure what was real, and what wasn’t. Maybe magic really could see into the future.

“Will they tell me how to guide my swarm to prosperity?” she asked.

Pachu'a looked away. “Perhaps. None know the depth of their wisdom. Whether they are willing to share it when asked is a decision only the Elders can make.”

The other two hunters turned back the way they'd come. They bowed to Pachu'a, then walked back to join the city without so much as a farewell. But they probably had families waiting for them, worried after their greatly-extended journey. Did changelings even have families? If they were all born from eggs, hatched from the same queen...

"Speak the truth to the Elders. Civilized creatures cannot lie to one another. We are not prey. These ancient bugs deserve your respect. Their wisdom is great, and their vision casts long shadows into the future. If Queen Kaya is there, I cannot prepare you. I am not a queen."

What does any of that mean? Amie took a tentative step forward into the entrance. Wes followed beside her, huddling close. Their escort didn't, however.

She went a little further into the gloom, watching him over her shoulder. "We don't get an introduction? They just expect us to walk right in?"

He nodded, then dropped into a bow. "It was a pleasure traveling with you, Queen Amie Blythe. I hope your negotiations are friendly and fruitful. I hope Sonoma can help you pull your bugs from the brink of starvation. No one deserves to suffer as they have."

Then he rose, and vanished into the darkness behind them. But they weren't left in pitch black, not with the steady orange glow emanating through the building's not-glass walls.

Wes crowded in close to her, whispering into her ear. "Are you sure about this, Amie? Seems like the perfect place for us to disappear. There's not even any soldiers down here. Just a scary door."

Amie nodded. "I didn't see guards anywhere, Wes. Or anything that looked like police." She sighed, scanning the darkness ahead with sensitive eyes. She saw no one, but she could feel bugs beneath them. She even sensed their anticipation, building as the seconds passed. Pachu'a was right, they did know she was coming.

"They used to be humans too," Wes continued. "Why are they so weird? Meanwhile ponies were never human, and their towns seem great. Maybe a little old-fashioned, but great. You know, like—streets, houses, people wishing you good morning. Cafes and trains and bookstores."

Amie nodded. "Their ancestors were human once. But I don't think any of these bugs ever were. Earth is a story from their mythology, Wes. We're... history."

"Makes you wonder what humans they came from, exactly. I think I've seen photos of somewhere carved into the rock. Too bad we didn't know we were gonna get ripped away like this. We could've brought a copy of Wikipedia along."

"Camp has a library," Amie said. "I think we have an encyclopedia." But no matter how much she wanted to delay going inside, she couldn't keep standing there forever. Important people were waiting through that door, the ones who would decide whether Stella Lacus would starve or not.

"Don't let them push you around," she whispered, wrapping one leg around him in a tight hug. "I'm not Mr. Albrecht. I'm not trading you away. If anyone tries anything, we'll get out."

He smiled weakly up at her, flicking his tail towards the ominous darkness behind them. "Sure, Amie. I know what you mean, but I'm not expecting a miracle."

Together they walked through the doorway, into the Elders' chambers.

Chapter 46

The room was much darker than Amie would've expected. But there were only candles within, none of the electric lights she'd seen elsewhere in the city. They were placed irregularly, illuminating a sloping, downward trail through the stone. It led, eventually, to a huge natural cavern, covered in damp rock. The walls were covered with swirling, living limestone, and sight-lines were broken by many formations. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling overhead, glittering with moisture in the gloom.

In the very center, there was a low table, surrounded by cushions. A dozen bugs waited there, each one already reclining. They did not rise as they approached, but did turn to face them in the darkness.

They were bugs—but much older than Amie had ever seen. They had only faint traces of orange on their fins. Instead of shiny like Amie, their coats were cloudy and dim in the candlelight. Most had more tattoos than she had seen from any in the city above, vast stories that covered their entire bodies from front to back.

Their eyes were strangest of all. Each of them had changed, fading to a pale, luminous blue. Amie could see where each of them were looking from the glowing spots their eyes formed in the darkness.

Except for her. At the center of the table was a creature that towered over all the others, a stark contrast to everything they represented. While they were old and shriveled, this being was lustrous and youthful. Her eyes were almost human, though Amie knew that was only the darkness. Like her own, they would narrow to slits in the daylight.

The air was thick with incense—burning sage, if Amie guessed right. It wafted steadily upward, drawn back the way they'd come by a constant current. There was an opening in the cavern beyond the table, though Amie couldn't see it from where she stood.

"Hello!" Amie called, when they had nearly reached the table. Of course they would've heard her coming. There was almost no sound in that dark space beside the steady dripping of water and their hooves on the stone. "I'm Amie, this is my brother Wes. We've come to honor the oath we made with Pachu'a, in thanks for the aid you sent to Stella Lacus."

All these bugs sat on one side of the table, leaving the other empty. There were two cushions waiting, one larger and one smaller.

Wes waved his wing weakly, muttering something. But he was too shy to say much, and it only came out as a squeak.

Every bug in the room turned towards him, their eyes intent. Even Amie felt it—they were sensing his fear—as real as any pony's.

"It's true, then," said one of the elderly bugs. Amie couldn't easily tell them apart—their tattoos were all unique, but difficult to distinguish in the darkness. "There is a drone who feels."

"He is like prey in other ways," said another voice, male this time. "He eats their food, and sleeps as they do."

Prey. The more Amie heard them say it, the less she liked it. Yes, she'd taken nourishment from her time with ponies. Tailslide and Ivy had both given her magic. But it didn't feel like she was feeding on them. There was no limit to the number of friends someone could have.

She smelled Amie's tension. Her eyes turned back towards her, while the others remained focused on Wes. "My bugs misjudged. You're still a nymph, for another... month. Two at most."

The queen spoke with the same accent as the other orange bugs they'd met so far. At the same time, Amie felt the weight of incredible confidence behind every word. Part of that was her skill as a leader. There was more to it. Amie felt as though she took up more space in the room, somehow. Her words brought weight behind them, that made her want to obey just by hearing.

If they'd been a command. "I never claimed to be a queen. I don't even know what that means, beyond what they told me."

The strange old bugs all looked at each other. But they said nothing. In that silence, Amie imagined a feverish conversation passing between them, all unheard.

"We saw the wretched state of your swarm," another of them said. "It is written we were likewise, long ago. But our prey were not wise to us then."

"The Erovores did terrible harm to all."

Nods of agreement passed between the members of their strange group.

"Something of your arrival is different," an elder said. "This bug you bring. There has never been one like him. One who is not bound to consume the magic of others. To break the chain."

"Unravel the tapestry," agreed another.

"Shatter the wheel."

Amie nodded. "He's also my brother. You're welcome to talk to him, and I'm sure he'll cooperate if you want to examine him. But you can't hurt him, and you can't have him. Just thought I'd... make that clear from the start. We only agreed to visit."

Again they seemed huddled in silent conversation. She felt the tension rising in the room between them, without a word. They didn't remain silent for long.

"We understand this," she said. The queen rose to her hooves, gesturing. "You should come with me, nymph of an unborn swarm. I would speak words with you that no others will hear."

Amie stood too. She touched her brother's shoulder, looking back. "And he stays?"

"To answer our questions."

"To be examined."

"Few know changelings as we do."

"Will not be harmed."

She could never trace one speaker from another, or one tone from another. Were they even different people, or one unified swarm? Like ants, hiding down in the dark.

They didn't take our weapons away. Amie made a show of removing her saddlebags, setting them down beside him. "I'll be back, Wes."

He learned towards her, then hugged her with nervous, desperate energy. Again they all looked at him, staring. They felt the love and trust between them, strengthened over these months in exile. But they can't eat it. They only eat pride.

She still didn't understand the restrictions of these other bugs—but at least it meant Wes would look less like food. Her brother was so shy that he almost never felt proud.

Amie left him with the Elders. She circled around the table, then joined her standing by the door. She towered over Amie, even more than Tailslide did when she was Rain Fly. Walking close to her was a little like opening the door leading out during a thunderstorm—her whole body felt the invisible tension in the air, power unbounded.

She led Amie through the doorway beyond the table. The stone floor changed almost instantly to one made of the waxy orange substance, just like the building entrance. After only a few steps, Amie slowed, feeling for the first time like she had truly walked into a hive.

Hexagonal cells extended up the walls so high that they were lost to the darkness. She heard many figures moving in the gloom—other bugs, most of them young. But none were on the ground, or anywhere close.

In some of the nearby cells, Amie saw shapes moving behind a thin layer of glass. Wriggling pupae, growing larger in their tiny, enclosed worlds.

I’ve seen this before, she realized. I dreamed it.

Amie hated bugs. Her stomach should've emptied right out onto the floor. Her disgust remained only a distant memory, however. The outlines crawling along the walls were not horrifying, they were cute.

Her royal escort only stopped when they reached the very center of the room, and a large throne resting there. It was well-padded, in several interlocking sections that made it look more like a hospital apparatus than anything else. Maybe... not a throne after all, then?

"Your name is Amie Blythe," the queen finally said. She didn't climb into her strange chair, but stood beside it, watching her. "Do you know mine?"

"Kaya," she answered. She held a hoof towards her, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The queen eyed her hoof, but either didn't recognize the gesture, or didn't care. Her horn glowed, and Amie jerked forward. It came so quickly and so irresistibly that Amie could do nothing to stop it, making her tumble over herself and land at the queen's hooves.

She loomed over her, eyes imperious. "You subject yourself to terrible danger, Amie Blythe. A queen should remain in her own lands. If you must travel, use another's body while you rest in safety, away from the assassin's blade."

Amie stumbled to her hooves. That strength was incredible. More than she'd seen from any unicorn in Agate. "I was promised safety," she said. "Pachu'a said we would be treated with respect. That your swarm was civilized."

The bug laughed, her voice suddenly harsh and grating. "And we are. Yet one without honor could say the same. Queen Chrysalis has made such promises before. She lured away one of my nymphs with a promise of new territory to conquer, then cut her throat."

The queen produced a blade from nowhere, a razor of metal as thin as glass. She dropped it at the ground in front of Amie. Yet her eyes burned as she said it, her voice suddenly ached. "You are the daughter of a distant queen. I would not have her suffer as I did. I would not see you meet such an end."

Amie faced the queen directly now, her body frozen in tension. She was too weak to fight—but she would be ready anyway. If this was an assassination, she would die standing up.

"That's horrible," Amie said. "I'm sorry, I—I can't imagine. I've never had a child, or lost one. That's evil."

Kaya swallowed, taking a moment to collect herself. "I fear you will soon know both life and death, nymph. You would be little use to your swarm otherwise. However weak and pathetic they are at their dawn, you are their only hope for a future. They will not survive their first winter without your genius."

Amie nodded. As frightening as Kaya's teaching method might feel, she was also talking straight with her. Sincerity radiated from her as surely as it had from Pachu'a. But that did not mean she was some loving mother. Amie would find no gentleness here.

"And maybe our friendship. My... swarm... are from a better age than the monsters who attacked your family. If you helped us now when we are new and the world is frightening, we could form... bonds of kinship that endure. We don't need to compete—a shared prosperity could bring a shared peace."

Kaya's eyes hardened again, intent. But at least she didn't attack Amie again. "Pachu'a told me that you are not limited to a single essence. You could compete with my children. You are the first swarm that ever could."

The tension between them hardened until she could almost see it. Never had she been in more danger than she was in that moment. "I'm told that being a queen makes me a... leader, of every green bug. They're my swarm. I could forbid them. And we could go further—if my kind ever become as numerous as yours, we could share what we learn about any source of food that would be valuable to you. There are so many emotions, Kaya. I would happily give you an oath that no bug of mine would ever take from you, in exchange for your help in our time of weakness."

Kaya stalked around Amie, her expression turning unreadable. "The value of that oath would depend on the one who made it. Whether you are a creature of honor, or a monster of broken promises and blood. Which are you, Amie Blythe?"

Scared, she thought. In over my head. Not cut out for this. But this was her moment. Amie was learning fast, and building wherever she went. If she couldn't find a way to get her campers home, she might still find a way to feed them all. But she would have to last long enough for that, learn their powers well enough. Maybe even find help from Equestria itself.

But winter was almost here, and the food in Stella Lacus was already gone. Without outside help, many would die. "I'm someone who... comes from a world who doesn't believe one of us has to be a winner, and one a loser. We can both prosper. For better or worse, we're... close. The way I see it, we either turn into friends, or you turn into a murderer and kill my swarm. Did Pachu'a tell you what they were like?"

Amie stood as straight as she could, staring into the face of death. "Children. My swarm is a summer camp. There are five kids to every counselor. Frankly, Kaya, I think your swarm are too good for that. Your hunters saw them suffering, and they gave away their own rations. Judge me if you want, but I can judge you too. I can see you aren't a monster."

Silence stretched. Amie lost track of the passage of time. Minutes—hours, it blurred beyond her comprehension. It was only her, and that pair of harsh orange eyes.

Finally she spoke. "It's good that you judge well, nymph. If you were wrong, you would not be alive. But the Elders have seen into the future of our alliance. They tell me that you will rise, and we will rise with you. So come, sit with me, and learn. I have much to teach you."

Chapter 47

Amie wasn't sure exactly how long she spent studying underground in Sonoma, surrounded by the gently pulsating eggs of the next generation of orange bugs. Dozens of changelings came and went in the background, tending to the eggs in ways that probably made sense to them, but that Amie did not understand.

At no point did she ever feel safe in the presence of Kaya. This was an incredibly powerful, dangerous being, one that could kill her without much effort if she wanted. She might survive because the queen’s better nature overcame a chance to kill a rival. Or maybe she would spare her because of the chance to secure an oath against competition. Either way, the queen never tried to kill her.

She led her through the hive, discussing all kinds of strange things. What humidity was right for raising young, how she should structure the command of her swarm to ensure that every bug had enough to eat—and what kinds of dangers the other tribes presented.

"There are five of us now. Orange, the swarm of Pride. Then Blue. Until their recent defeat, they were largest and most powerful by far. Now the Erovores are scattered, their queen is in hiding, and most of their changelings are presumed dead. I will not mourn their loss. If their queen or any of her servants ever come to you, answer with a knife. It is the only purpose of her visit."

Amie nodded weakly. "I'm glad you warned me. If they found me first—I would've trusted any changeling I met. We're on the same side, aren't we? Ponies are trying to exterminate all of us equally. It makes more sense to cooperate."

Kaya whistled quietly, touching one wing against her shoulder. "So much you sound like Taini. If you are ever recognized by our tribe, perhaps we will name you by her. I shall wait, and see if your deeds are worthy of my daughter's dead name."

Amie looked away. "I know I already said so, but—"

The queen cut her off. "There are two others. I cannot say for certain how they will respond when they discover you. Violet are the next oldest. They live across the sea, ruling over a kingdom of their own. They feast on joy, and all its lesser derivatives. They are not likely to see you as a threat, given your size. But if you expand your hunting grounds beyond Equestria, watch for them. They are not fond of sharing."

"Lastly are the red tribe. To avoid their ire, you must never feed upon the dying. In hospice and hospital you will find their hidden disciples, cultivating their dark hungers. With time, they will send diplomats to meet with you. These you can trust to keep their word. They will demand much, but offer much in return. Never dishonor them, or break your word once given. But that is true for all our kind."

There was so much to learn, and so little time to learn it. Every minute she spent was another that her brother spent alone. She thought she could trust Kaya and her tribe, but that trust was still untested. They might turn against her at any time, and she'd be no better off than when Mr. Albrecht wanted to dissect her brother.

Actually it would be worse, since the orange bugs had only allowed this visit to see Wes for themselves. If something happened to him, it would be as though Amie had sold her family for power. She'd never be able to sleep again.

Kaya stopped in her tracks, silencing an explanation on cultivating useful underground fungi. "You worry for your swarm. I should not be keeping you so long. When you secure their survival, you may send a bug to my court, and use her eyes to study with me. I will give you every duty in the hive, and teach you what your kind must know to survive."

Amie nodded eagerly. Those terms were scary in themselves, since they meant sending someone to risk their life here as she had done—but there would also be far less to gain by killing a random bug. Amie was only in danger because she was a queen. She just needed someone competent enough to make the trip over, but who wouldn't mind Amie borrowing their body for a bit.

"I thought I could do that," she said. "But I'm not very good at it yet. It doesn't seem like most bugs would like it very much."

The queen rolled her eyes, then waved Amie into a nearby tunnel. They had to climb up a way to reach it, covered in more of that amber slime. Amie didn't think, she just followed, walking straight up, then straight back down again just as quickly.

"Like is not a meaningful term. All members of the Hive know we serve a common purpose. They will not refuse you—they have instincts. Their instincts command that obedience to the queen is survival, and defiance is starvation."

This new antechamber was unlike the nest with its gigantic throne. There were no eggs, and instead of darkness a lantern burned near the room's center. Two chairs sat on either side of the flame. A small group of bugs waited there. Some were old, some young, some male and some female, but all had the same large tattoo around their right eye, etched with gold ink.

Another tunnel opened off this chamber, which seemed to connect to living quarters, but Amie didn't get to see inside.

"This will be your last lesson, nymph. Learn it well, or find your long life cut short. Perhaps by a rival, perhaps by a wolf, or perhaps an Equestrian crossbow. Your swarm will not thank you for self-sacrifice when they die out without new bugs. Consider that their only hope of propagation are the eggs growing within you. If you die, so do all of them."

Amie froze, the weight of those words finally settling onto her shoulders. For days now she had felt something was wrong--and she wasn’t the only one to notice. But of all the bugs to just go out and say it, there was one more likely to be correct than any passing observer. This was a queen, someone who had experienced the exact same thing. Maybe she had eggs now! If not, she had recently. The evidence was all around them.

“I… can’t. I don’t.” She said it, even though she didn’t believe it. “I’m not ready for one kid. I’m not having… lots.”

The orange queen smiled weakly at her, sympathetic. “And yet--fate does not ask. You already made the choice--they did not fertilize themselves. So in living with its consequences, you will perpetuate the tribe. It is not to be feared, but a sacred responsibility.”

"What should I do?"

"What I do," Kaya answered. She sat in one of the chairs, reclining there. "In my tribe, I select bugs from birth who serve as my eyes and hooves. This role does mean an increased risk, as I sometimes go into danger—but it also means a life of privilege. When I do not need them, the females may remain in the nest if they wish—and most do. Tending to the young is immensely satisfying. The males—I allow them to contribute in other ways, if it pleases me."

The queen glanced to one side, and Amie's face lit up with a bright green blush. She needed very little imagination to guess at what the queen meant by that. She could read her emotions perfectly, after all.

She read confusion and a little amusement at Amie's shyness. "What a strange culture you must come from. When your swarm is at peace, we will discuss it at length. We must know what became of our cousins that were not taken by the gods."

Amie circled around to the lantern's other side, and copied her, settling into the other chair. It was as comfortable as it looked. Besides, it meant she was further away, so some of her embarrassment wouldn't be as visible. "Sure. I may not be an expert, but I can tell you what I know. And get others to contribute..." She trailed off. "Why the fire?"

"The flame is our cousin too, nymph. It is the echo of every bug. The flame shines bright and powerful, so long as there is fuel to sustain it. When that fades, it will quickly sputter away and go out. It cannot make its own glamour, as we cannot. And like fire, a changeling is an exceptionally dangerous creature when not in control of itself. Many believe that no creature in all the world had mastered the flame, until we brought it with us from the homeworld."

She flicked one wing towards the lantern. "You are united at every moment with your swarm, nymph. With great discipline, you may see through many eyes at once, guiding them in subtle ways. But this lesson is beyond what you can learn in my presence—instead, I will teach you to devote your focus to a single being. You said you're familiar with it?"

She nodded. "Not very—it happened by accident. But I used it to teach some of my, uh—loyal bugs. I had figured out how to change when none of them did. But they couldn't hide from ponies very well if they looked like changelings."

Kaya nodded approvingly. "Then you already see how useful the talent can be. If your accounts are true, I find myself in disagreement with the Elders. They believe your brother was the most interesting aspect of your arrival on Equus. But I do not put much stock in their hope. It is vain to believe that any bug can ever escape slavery to our nature. Yet we can learn to live comfortably within its bounds, we can turn it to our advantage. And we can make useful friends of other tribes, to fill gaps in our own competency."

I think that was a compliment. "I'm still gonna try to open a portal back the way we came," Amie said. "But I—I'm not very confident it will work, either. I can't gamble my kids' lives on that when the winter is coming and we've already hunted all the game on our mountain."

Kaya shook her head vigorously. "Hunted game. Truly awful... no bug should be reduced to that. I will send more relief with your return trip. Not as much as I would like—hunting has been far more difficult since the Erovores revealed our existence to Equestria. But I will send more. When your own hunters roam far and wide, you can repay. Until then..."

She shook her head once. "But your concern is good. To reach one of your bugs, you must first find a suitable thread to bind you together. Make yourself comfortable, then focus on the flame. Stare until your vision blurs at the edges, and you see only the light."

Amie hesitated before obeying her, feeling at the other queen's emotions. Even if she was doing exactly what she said, this could easily be a way to make her helpless. Last time Amie did this, she had barely even felt her own body while in control of another. If Kaya wanted to kill her without a fight, this was the way.

But she felt no hostility, only a growing sense of maternal affection. She saw something familiar in Amie, and wanted to protect it. I'll never see my mom again.

She sniffed, fought back her tears, and focused on the flame. "Okay, Kaya. I'm focusing."

There was silence for a time. Amie felt her own breath, her chest gently rising and falling. The fire seemed to respond, pulling towards her when she inhaled, then out again even inside the glass.

Then she heard the queen again, whispering gently into her ear. "Picture a member of your swarm. You're afraid for them, worried for their future. You know they do not have enough to eat. Even with the help we sent, there is not enough glamour to feed a thousand mouths. Feel their hunger. The contract sworn between queen and changeling is signed in glamour offered and accepted. By choosing one, you give them some of your strength."

The last time Amie had done this, she was only feet away. How could it possibly let her reach all the way back to camp? The trip took several days by train...

She was there, back in the pioneering lodge. After she fled the camp, her kids had faced very poor treatment from the other campers. They had all started living in the lodge, boys and girls alike, where they could look out for each other. They tried to hunt together, but it was never enough. Even when they found anything, camp would often discover they had it, and take it away.

"You are with them," whispered a voice. The queen was even more distant now, disembodied. Or maybe that was Amie, and the other queen was real. "Choose only one. Your mind is too fragile to reach further, nymph. Open their eyes."

Tucked into the corner were the bugs that weren't making it. They were the youngest and smallest, least able to survive poor conditions. A little row of cots was tucked up against the wall, where four little bugs spent every moment. They barely moved, barely breathed, and had nothing but a little trickle of water given to them by funnel each day.

She could not feel their thoughts anymore, just a desperate hunger. If they were stronger it might've crushed Amie's will beneath it—but they were dying, and so Amie could resist easily.

She picked the smallest and weakest of them all, with breaths so faint that she could barely feel them. The others might last a little longer, but this bug would not survive the night.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Amie thought. There was no reply. Maybe there wasn't even a mind left in the body anymore.

"Good. Now open your eyes. The longer you remain connected, the more glamour you will give."

Wes was on his own—but Amie couldn't go to him just yet. If she did, one of her campers would die.

She closed her eyes, and the flame faded. Then she opened them again, and she was somewhere else.

Author's Note

Sorry about being late on this one, got caught up in the holidays and forgot to schedule it. X.x

Chapter 48

Amie was in agony.

Her body was small, much smaller than it had been for a long time. Every limb hurt, every inch of her unnaturally soft black coat. This was what it felt like to die.

At first she saw almost nothing, only a plain wood ceiling and the steady white glow of LED lights. But she felt something else, motion moving through the cot beneath her and the floor under that. There were others still alive out there, where she wanted desperately to be.

Amie inhaled, short and sharp. Her breath brought more than air—it brought sentience. Glamour flowed into her body, drawn painfully-slowly along a single invisible thread. She inhaled again, and more pain came with it. She was burning!

By the third breath, she finally had enough strength to do something. She screamed. Her voice was small and high-pitched, and incredibly shrill. She couldn't help it—it hurt so badly!

She searched for another, attentive for any thought that wasn't her own—but there was nothing distinct. It could be her own thoughts, or her own imagination, overwhelmed with the pain this body was in.

A shape blurred overhead, and someone stood over her. It was Marcus, oldest and strongest of her campers. His face was gaunt and his cheeks sunken, but at least he wasn't lying limp in bed like so many others. "Lily? Lily are you—of course you're not alright. Can you hear me?"

Amie's whole body shook, burning under the force of magic she had not received in a long, long time.

"Shit, Marcus, I think she's—should we do something?"

"What do we do?" someone else asked, their features lost in the building amid so many others.

"I'm not sure." Marcus glanced back at the speakers, other bugs that appeared only as dim shapes outside Amie's field of view. "Amie wouldn't want us to let her die, not when... not when there's a chance."

"She's in agony, look at her."

Amie stopped screaming. It still hurt, but the pain was fading now. She jerked, then sat up abruptly, staring around the room.

All her campers weren't here—this was about half. An equal mix of the smaller, helpless ones, and the older kids. That was probably Marcus's doing too, keeping them from making the group too vulnerable.

Every bug in the hall was now staring at her—except for the three other bugs resting obliviously in their cots. Amie shook herself out, whimpering at the awful smell. Bits of pale shell fell away from her sides, as the rotten exoskeleton crumbled. Shiny black replacement grew in its place. She had to reach up to her eyes, removing bits of uneven white from around her face.

"Lily!" Marcus dropped down to one knee beside her. He smiled, warm enough that Amie felt his relief. "Lily, can you understand me?"

Amie nodded. It still hurt all over, but that pain was fading. My real body is giving her glamour. I wonder how much this will cost. She wondered, but the answer would not change what she did. Lily was going to live. When she got the chance, she would have to do the same for the other kids.

"I don't know if she can hear you," said Sydney. "Maybe she's still delirious."

"I can hear you," Amie said. Her voice was so high and childish—Lily's voice. But where were Lily's thoughts to go with it? "But I'm not Lily. I mean... I am, but I'm not right this second."

Marcus and Sydney shared a look. The girl moved closer, resting one foreleg on her shoulder. Even Sydney was huge compared to her now. "Lily, sweetheart. You've been out a long time. I think maybe it... might have you feeling confused."

"Do we have anything to give her?" Marcus asked. "Check the fridge! There must be something left from the last hunt."

A bug opened the mini-fridge, the same one Amie had kept in her staff cabin to cool her stash of snacks and the occasional wine-cooler. They slammed it shut a few seconds later. "Not a scrap, Marcus. Sorry."

"I don't need it." Amie opened her wings, and flapped them rapidly. They buzzed, shaking off thick bits of chitin and revealing healthy wings underneath. "I know... how strange this sounds—"

They were closing in on her. There was no acceptance, only a sense of overwhelming pity and fear. "You should lay down, Lily. You're hurting yourself." Marcus lowered his voice, glancing away from her. "Someone get me a blanket. Biggest one we have."

They're going to restrain me. Amie couldn't let that happen—she didn't even know how long she had, she couldn't spend that time held down, because they thought she was dying.

Besides, she was sick of feeling so small. She closed her eyes a moment, and concentrated on a familiar form. The body didn't know how to do it, but Amie did.

It took longer than the last time. With barely any magic in the little bug, Amie had to wait for more of her own strength to flow between them to power the transformation. By the time she finally started to change, Marcus was standing over her, holding a blanket in his mouth. Then she changed.

She rose, becoming an equal with him in height, and larger in most of the other dimensions. Changelings were quite a bit skinnier than ponies, for reasons she didn't (and might never) fully understand.

Marcus gasped, dropping the blanket he was holding. The other bugs all retreated from her, radiating amazement and fear. Amie spread her new bat wings, trying to get their attention. "Wait! Please don't run away! I'm Amie—kinda. Healing Lily and borrowing her for a bit."

No one ran. There was definitely enough fear in the assembled bugs, but just as much of it was not focused on her. They don't have anywhere to go. She knew it without needing to guess. They all radiated the same thought, more or less. The only authority they could turn to for help was the camp, and Albrecht was hostile. He would probably punish the whole group if they called on him.

"Amie?" Marcus didn't back away like some of the others. Now that he was the same height, his presence there was less intimidating and more pathetic. Every bug in here was woefully underweight. It wouldn't be long before they joined the three comatose campers in their cots.

"You don't look like Amie. She was a bug. You don't... have any holes." Sydney was even less afraid, nudging her side with a foreleg. "How can you be her and not Lily? We saw you just now."

"We saw her do magic," Marcus said. "Her messages have talked about this. All of us can transform. I didn't know we could use... mind control?"

"We shouldn't just trust her. Ask her something only Amie would know."

She raised one leg to silence him before he could even start. There was no time to waste on pointlessly proving who she was, not when Wes was still alone with the Elders, and her bugs here were obviously starving.

"Before the Transit, I told you I would let you take me to dinner after the camp season was over," she said. "Camp rules would make things really awful if I accepted before you graduated."

She should've been embarrassed. Marcus was—his wings opened and vibrated for a few seconds, his first real showing of weakness in front of the other campers. "It's her," he finally said. "We were alone when I—when we had that conversation."

His pronouncement was as good as gold for the bugs. They crowded around her in a rush, so close that they were in danger of knocking the resting bugs out of their cots.

Amie backed deliberately away, so the other injured wouldn't be in danger of being trampled.

She was bombarded with questions. Some of the younger ones didn't say anything at all, but just pressed to her with desperation, hungry for affection from parents they no longer had. Seeing it melted her heart—but there was very little she could do.

Except one, important thing.

"Listen. I've negotiated with Albrecht for your release. It's obvious you're not being well-treated, you weren't given your fair share of the relief I negotiated. I'm getting all of you out, now. I know somewhere you can go where you will have enough to eat. Marcus, pack everyone up. Travel light. You won't need any survival gear, so only bring your personal effects. I don't know if you will ever see Stella Lacus again. Get everyone ready to move. I know the ponies' patrol routes, but we'll have to move fast before they change them."

Marcus watched her in amazement. He was the first to speak. "Can you be sure that Albrecht will let us leave? The camp patrol are like his... gestapo, Amie. They'll beat anyone who tries to fight. Your campers aren't strong enough to live through that."

"He doesn't have a choice," Amie answered. "But I'll talk to him tomorrow. Those other three... I'll need to connect to them like I'm doing with Lily. Hopefully this is enough to help her mind recover as well as her body. If not, I need you to make sure she makes it, along with anyone else. Get stronger kids to help carry them if you have to."

Marcus nodded. "We'll... we'll try. But even if we make it, it will take the last of our strength to get anywhere. Most of us are too weak to fly."

"Don't fly! The ponies guarding you believe we're hostile invaders. They will treat you like an enemy army if they see you. Don't leave without my instruction—just get a topographical map, and have it here in our cabin as soon as you can."

If only she could stay in contact with them forever, she could probably do more. But Amie heard a distant voice, calling her back to her body. Something touched her shoulder, and she let go of the bonds connecting her to little Lily. Hopefully the bug would recover her mind, with a fresh infusion of Amie's magic.

Amie opened her eyes under Sonoma, with Queen Kaya looming overhead. "I felt your success. I did not wish to interrupt you, but we have little time. There is one other matter I must discuss with you before you can reunite with the other bug you brought. Please follow me."

Amie followed without objection. Her mind spun with all the new work she had to do. As soon as this diplomacy was over, there were three other resting bugs who needed her magic. Despite the risk, she would need to borrow them to help plan the escape. It was time to have a personal conversation with Albrecht. Otherwise, she wouldn't lose just a handful of her campers—they would all starve.

They returned to the primary nest, and Queen Kaya began to speak again.

"When you take your leave today, I will send you with this." She held something up then, a book of rough paper bound by a cover of heavy straps. "Here collected is the wisdom I have gathered, which I give to every nymph I send to found a colony of her own. I have removed the secrets that might harm my tribe, but the rest is yours."

She levitated the book towards her, but not quite close enough to reach. Its presence there was as tantalizing as a sizzling steak—or maybe a pony offering her a hug. Amie's wings opened, but she managed to keep them from buzzing and revealing just how eager the prospect made her.

Except that Kaya could read all her emotions, just as she could read hers. "You're just going to give me that? That's... an incredible gift."

"Not quite," the other queen answered. She set it down on a narrow stone bench, then backed away from it. She left it sitting there unguarded, apparently unconcerned that Amie might steal it. "There will be an exchange. Modest, compared to all the knowledge I would share with you. I think you'll find it impossible to refuse."

Her ears flattened, and her wings closed. This was exactly what she was afraid of. "What terms?"

"You will permit me to send a young drone back with you. You will not harm her, and see that she is as well-fed as your own bugs while she is with you. When you build your hive, you will take her into your court, and allow her to watch. Occasionally, I will speak through her."

As she said it, a little black and orange bug appeared from the darkness, standing just beside her. She was so much smaller than the queen, the right age to be one of Amie's own campers. She had a single tattoo inked into her shell over her eye, but no others. Far less than anyone Amie had met so far.

"I am Natane," she said, bowing to Amie. "I will serve you faithfully on my queen's behalf."

Amie looked over at the book, then the little orange drone. She might be nakedly accepting a spy into her midst—but in some ways, Kaya was showing incredible trust. Once back at the colony, an unscrupulous queen could just kill the servant and keep the book for themselves.

The thought repulsed her, but would other changelings respond the same way? What about the blue ones, who attacked Equestria in the open?

Amie held out a hoof to shake. "Nice to meet you, Natane. I'm Amie Blythe—I think you'll like my campers when you get to meet them. They're a bunch of sweethearts who don't deserve what happened to them."

The changeling stared down at her hoof, bewildered. "I... hope so," she said, looking awkwardly away.

"Take that book, Natane," Kaya ordered. "You will carry it with you back to Agate, and protect it with your life. Queen Amie may demand it from you at any time, but you should always get it back when she is finished reading. Do not permit anyone else to read it."

Natane levitated the book up off the table, then tucked it into the small of her back. "Yes, queen. It will be done."

Chapter 50

Amie didn't laugh as she turned around. She kept her expression as neutral as possible, levitating the basket down onto the table in front of them. "Why don't you see how much of this you need, Wes. Then you should get some sleep. These bugs are going to push us hard tomorrow. We probably won't get to rest until we're back on a train."

They ate in relative silence then. Wes's amusement was soon replaced with suspicion, and a little embarrassment. Amie needed no magic to see what he was thinking, albeit without the courage to ask her directly. Amie didn't make it easier on him, and volunteered nothing.

She wanted to eat several baskets worth of what they brought. She settled for whatever was left when Wes finished, emptying every crumb. With the promise of more supplies to come, she opened and emptied every can she had brought, right down to drinking the gross bean-water that came inside.

Wes wasn't awake to watch. The day was just as hard for him as it was for Amie, and he wasn't overflowing with the magic of a queen.

Too bad she hadn't made the trip like other changeling queens, with large retinues of bugs they could trust to keep them safe. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have to worry about reaching over to camp again.

She would still do it, of course—there were three others who would die without an infusion of new magic. Besides—if she didn't talk to Albrecht, he might second-guess his decision to let her keep her students.

It took longer than the last time. Without Kaya to guide her visualization, without the perfect chairs and a flame waiting exactly in her line of sight, Amie had to compensate with a little more personal discipline. Maybe some of her hesitation came from fear over what the orange bugs might do while she was incapacitated, or the pain that was waiting for her on the other side.

Eventually, she found the links she was looking for. It was a little harder in some other ways—all three of the unconscious bugs were boys. But if she didn't give them a little magic, they would be corpses.

It did not hurt any less the second time. This wasn't using Rick or Beth, who she had already given plenty of magic to recover. The body waiting for her was one step from a corpse, and smelled like it.

She could see little in the cabin while magic flowed through her, and she screamed in a voice that wasn't her own. A row of modified backpacks were on the ground in the center of the room, each one lined up and partially filled. But there was no crowd of other bugs around to look. Instead, there were only three.

Two remained in their cots, little males like the one she had just healed. Then there was Lily.

She watched from just beside Amie, looking down on her cot. Maybe she'd been there the whole time, or maybe she was attracted by the screaming.

"Oh, Lily," she said, in a voice that wasn't hers. "You're still on your hooves! Are you feeling any better?"

The bug didn't react. She didn't move, didn't even blink. She just stood there watching. Amie felt very little from her at all, except a diffuse sense of... loyalty?

Amie started crying. This was a kid—one of her youngest campers, someone Albrecht should've protected over any other. Here she stood, expressionless, emotionless, and maybe even thoughtless.

Is it brain damage? Amie didn't know, but she knew she wasn't going to sit there and wait while these others suffered the same fate. She stood up, shaking off the last bits of broken carapace. Then she walked over to the next bug. Lily followed her, walking almost directly behind.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, a little louder. "Do you know who I am?"

Lily's wings opened, vibrated once, then closed again. She still said nothing. "I want to figure out what happened to the others," she said. "But first, I have to help these two. Stay with me."

Amie wasn't sure what she was doing exactly, but it came naturally enough. She touched the forehead of the little resting creature.

It was far easier to make contact with another bug when she was only a few meters away. Even seeing through another’s eyes was enough of a connection. Amie released one bug, and connected to the next.

She was getting used to the pain by now. What had rendered her mentally and physically exhausted the first time was just another step in the process now. She was strong enough, for a cause as important as her campers' lives.

It felt like it was getting easier too. The third time took only a few minutes, and her third injured bug could stand on his own again. Now there were two of them staring blankly at her.

She repeated the process with the last of her most injured campers, until they too could rise from their cot and stand on their own hooves.

Now there was a large pile of pale white discarded exoskeleton, fallen to the floor around the cots. All three of the other bugs remained standing, focused on her but not actually doing anything. "Can any of you understand me?" she asked. It wasn't her mouth, or her voice, but the words were clear just the same.

None of them reacted. Of course bug eyes weren't great at showing expression, but these kids were particularly stiff.

They didn't twitch, didn't shuffle in place or adjust themselves to be more comfortable, they just stared. Almost—obedient? Like the scores of orange drones she'd seen in Sonoma, going about their work without apparent regard for themselves.

That brought its own wave of panic and guilt. She promised them that she would protect them long enough to get home—but if they came back basically braindead, it wasn't much better.

I don't know this is permanent. Maybe they can recover. First she had to get them out. The sky outside her window was still thoroughly dark. It might be midnight, or a little past, but not much beyond that. She still had time.

"You're all still filthy. Can you go to the showers and rinse off? I don't want anyone getting infected.”

The reaction was immediate—her little group of bugs all turned for the door, walking in a straight line. Yet she saw no personality in their movement—the boy ahead of her was Collin she was pretty sure, and he always had a bounce to his step. Lily was so full of energy she tended to jog somewhere, then wait for everyone else to catch up. They weren't doing that.

And of course the body she was using didn't obey compulsively, she remained in control. Long enough to listen for any other thoughts along with her own, just as she had done with Lily. Just as with Lily, she felt nothing from the little bug.

Maybe it was instinct, or maybe just that the first bug she'd reached was a little older than these others. Either way, Amie found it easier to switch her focus back to Lily, now at the head of the little group, and set out into the night.

The camp's streetlights were all out, but bug eyes hardly noticed. A little moonlight was more than enough to see her way down the trail to one of the bathrooms. She waved the three young bugs over to the guys side, but stopped in their path. "Listen to me. Rinse off quickly, then get back to our cabin and keep your heads down. I can't be here to protect you right now."

Was that command too complex? Apparently not, because all three filed into the shower without complaint. The water came on a second later. Amie waited a few seconds for any sign that something was wrong in there, but old instinct stopped her from investigating in person. It didn't matter that everyone was always naked, some parts of staff training never quite faded.

Lily didn't stink like the others, which she could only take to mean someone had already helped her clean up since her last visit. That meant she could wait outside the shower, crouched low in the darkness to watch for danger. She heard none, though there was the distant sound of the PA, echoing through the trees from camp center. Something was definitely happening, but what?

The bugs emerged a few minutes later, now rinsed off and not smelling quite so much like death. They filed right past her, returning the way they'd come.

They can understand my orders. There must be some of them left for them to do that, right? Maybe she could find something about this in Kaya's book of wisdom. But there was no time for that now.

Amie watched long enough to see the bugs made it back into her cabin, then set off into the darkness. I hope you don't mind, Lily, she thought. I won't get you into danger.

There shouldn't even be danger in Camp Stella Lacus. But given the ones running it, she couldn't actually know that for sure.

If there was any less danger to the rest of her campers, she would never have taken the risk, not without asking someone who was in a place to say yes first. But if she just walked away, all her campers might die—and maybe the rest of camp with them.

She resisted the temptation to transform into something closer to her own size. Keeping the woods at their proper scale was a useful reminder of the risk she took with someone else's body. Besides, an ordinary changeling drone was the perfect disguise. Who would look twice at one of the smallest bugs in camp? She was no threat to anyone, barely even worth noticing.

She expected to find everyone at the mess hall. It might be the middle of the night, but since they only needed a few minutes to nap each day, maybe they had another meal at midnight? It would keep them working, anyway.

Amie discovered quickly that this gathering was obviously not taking place at the mess hall. She saw many bugs assembled on the grounds of what used to be the ropes course, all packed in close to each other. The ropes had all been cut down, leaving featureless brown telephone-poles instead. The safety nets were gone too, with only plain ground below, broken by a row of...

Graves. They had identical wooden gravestones, a simple cross with names burned into the surface. Amie broke into a trot, closing on the awful scene.

Her wings buzzed, and she lifted up into the air, high enough to get a look at what was happening.

Past the watching crowd of forlorn campers, a solemn group lowered something in a sleeping bag down into a hole. Most were the bigger bugs, camp staff and counselors. But a few smaller ones joined in, settling their dead friend to the ground.

Amie didn't need magic to feel the caul of overwhelming hopelessness on this crowd.

She didn't stay in the air long—Amie wasn't even really sure what she had done exactly. Besides, staying up would make her more of a target, and it meant she had to watch the awful event more closely.

No one reacted to her at the back of the group. There were so many other bugs that she could blend in easily.

Eventually someone stepped up, onto a few heavy wooden crates. Albrecht looked out at the crowd. When he spoke, it was over the ropes course PA. He must have a mic clipped to that shirt somewhere.

"Citizens of Stella Lacus. Days like this are a kind of pain none of you should have to face. When you leave here, do so with the confidence that it will soon end. Our hunting is improving, and we have hope of resupply from Pachu’a’s hunters. I know it seems hard, but keep going. Tend to your duty, and we'll survive the winter. Any who wish may remain here and help bury Halley. The rest of you are free to return to your work."

The crowd began to disperse, scattering into many cliques and many directions. Amie saw some of her own bugs in there, but didn't try to rejoin them. Instead, she kept her focus on Albrecht, watching him set off with a small group of other bugs. She followed, cutting across the crowd.

It was time to talk to the leader of Camp Stella Lacus.

Chapter 51

Amie followed Albrecht long enough to see where he was headed, and to confirm her suspicions: the cabin he shared with his wife. The lights outside that cabin were still on, shining out at the darkened camp all around it. Stranger still, Amie was positive she saw a pair of patrolling guards circling the building. They each wore one of the camp's many target-shooting .22 rifles.

If this were her body, she could think of several ways she could try to get past them, and confront Albrecht alone. She couldn't take any of those risks with Lily.

It would be better if she could show these bugs how she really looked. Maybe some instinct would take over then, making them more willing to trust a queen.

Her powers didn't work that way, unfortunately. She couldn’t look like another bug, no matter how much she wanted to.

Amie used her bat again—someone smaller than Albrecht, so it wouldn't look like she was a physical threat. Being a bat with darker colors would keep her looking similar to the bugs, while maintaining her sharp senses out in the dark. It did mean she wouldn't have magic to fight with—but if it came to a fight, she would just have to run.

Amie wasn't the only camper who tried to approach Albrecht. Most of them had very little to say, just asking for reassurance from the one they perceived as an authority figure. He told them all the same thing, that Stella Lacus was in good hands and that by doing their duty they had the best chance for survival.

Eventually she didn't feel any other changelings approaching from the gloom, and it was her turn. "Director Albrecht," she called. The whole group stopped to look in her direction.

Strange that having a normal voice was what made her stand out, when everyone else here had the characteristic reverberation of changelings.

She'd picked a particularly dark patch, where she could keep her wings folded and expose as few differences as possible. "Director..." she repeated. His guards stopped too, staring skeptically into the trees. Like the ones circling the cabin, these had rifles. And they'd learned to use their magic, enough to levitate them up into an alert position.

"Come forward," one of them ordered. "Where the president can see you."

President? Apparently the bugs of Stella Lacus had founded their own government while she was gone. "I look like a pony, but I'm not. I had to transform into one of them to get here."

A lie, kinda. But it would be true if she had tried to cross the border naturally. Hopefully that was close enough that they wouldn't be able to tell.

She stepped out of the shadow and into the light. She kept what she hoped was a neutral smile on her face, exposing bat fangs. For once, they would actually make her look more familiar.

They gasped, and one of Albrecht’s guards pointed his rifle in her direction. "Pony! Stay where you are!"

Amie froze, instantly obedient to the command. This was what she had feared. "I'm staying!" she shouted back. "And I'm unarmed. But I swear, if you kill me, there won't be any more relief shipments coming. You'll be on your own."

Another lie. Like the first one, it was probably the wiser answer. If Albrecht killed Lily, then she would need to overthrow him, before he could do any more harm.

"Don't shoot," Albrecht said. He held out one wing, pushing the gun aside. "I think I know who you are, but I want you to tell me."

"Amie," she answered, voice flat. Maybe that was technically a little lie too. But if Lily was still in there somewhere, she didn't object. "I need to talk to you, Director. I can't stay long."

He advanced past the guards, looming over her. Albrecht was leaner than last time, but showed none of the signs of starvation that many campers did. So he'd kept back enough glamor to keep himself going while others starved.

"What makes you think you have a choice? If I order those men to keep you here, then you're staying."

Amie shrugged. This close to him, the guards weren't pointing rifles at her anymore. If she could get away from him, she could slip back into the crowd of campers, and Lily could disappear. They'd never seen her real face. Hopefully she could stop this from becoming aggressive long before she had to run.

"That wouldn't be a good idea." She sighed. "Director, I didn't come here to fight with you. You made me a promise, and I'm here to make sure it happens."

For a few seconds, Amie felt only a maelstrom of conflicting feelings from the director. Part of him wanted to imprison her, and use her as some kind of example for the camp. She was a tempting way to expand his grip on power. But in the end, his better instincts won out.

He turned his back on her. "Search her. If she's not armed, she can come inside with me."

Amie gritted her teeth—but let them do it. At least never wearing clothes meant it was a quick process, if embarrassing. Once they could see she hadn't brought a gun under her wing, it was simple.

Next she knew, she was back in Albrecht’s office. The cabin was basically unchanged from every other time she'd visited, except that many of the numerous fancy leatherbound books on his shelves were removed, arranged on the floor in little piles. Only the titles from his previous legal career remained untouched on the shelf.

The guards didn't follow them into the building. She could still feel them outside, and the profound anger that spread from the first two to the others. Her changeling senses didn't let her feel it exactly, but she could guess. Three of their number were dead, and they blamed her.

Maybe they were right to.

"What do you want, Amie? I can see you're not starving, and you can get past our security detail whenever you want. Say what you're here to say and don't waste my time."

There was no chair on the other side of his desk. "The food we need to survive is called glamour—that's what the relief team brought. Did they tell you where it came from?"

He shook his head once. "Only that it was something changelings hunted. They seemed disgusted when we offered them some dried meat in return."

She was really here—really back in his office. This same man had ordered her brother sacrificed to discover what made him able to eat ordinary food when they couldn't. Now Amie knew the secret, and Wes was still alive. She couldn't muster any fear for Albrecht this time. Once her kids were gone, he wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore.

"To survive in Equestria long-term, we'll need glamour for everyone. Meat is unsustainable, and... disgusting, as they pointed out. I'm building a way for us to get the food we need. But I need more bugs to do it. I'm taking my students now. In exchange for their release, you'll get another aid shipment. Hopefully you can stretch it long enough for us to start gathering our own food to send back."

For a time, Albrecht sat back in his chair, quietly seething. He might be the 'president' of Camp Stella Lacus, but Amie could still feel what he was thinking. She kept her touch light, not wanting to betray this new ability. Just as she didn't want him to know that she wasn't even here in person.

"I don't have any guarantee you'll send that food once you take them," he said. "I know how loyal you were to your campers. Once they're gone, do the others starve? You could keep the relief shipment for yourself."

Amie rolled her eyes. "I could.I didn't have to send the first shipment either, Mr. Albrecht. But I'm telling you that I won't do that. My campers will not get a single drop of the relief shipment—I already have enough to feed them."

He shifted in his seat, levitating open a thick leatherbound book in front of him. It was a ledger of some kind, covered with writing she couldn't see from the ground. "Do you intend to hold this secret over us? You know how to feed us while we do not. With every delivery, you'll demand more, is that it?"

Good thing you're not our queen. Kaya probably would've cut your throat.

"It's not a secret, it's just not something useful to you right now. I... don't have the time to explain in great detail, but I can tell you this: our species is called Changelings. We're emotional parasites—we can't survive on our own. But where other intelligent creatures are living, their positive feelings create food we can eat."

"Will you share your secret to escaping the mountain? Then we could send people out there to gather this... glamour. We wouldn't need to depend on humanitarian relief."

Amie shook her head once. "There is an entire Equestrian military base in the town at the bottom of this mountain. If they realize they can't contain us anymore, they might decide to wipe us out instead. Our numbers need to be small."

"You think your campers are the best for the job? There are other adults who would volunteer—adults should be the ones taking these risks. Your campers are children."

Amie nodded her agreement. "They are children who haven't been eating under your care. Four of them were comatose when I got here. Whatever risks are waiting for them in Agate, they're still safer than they are here."

She felt his anger again, another burst of rage and pride and blame all directed at her. His expression never changed, and he probably thought she was oblivious to all but his general displeasure. That was wrong, obviously.

"I can't stop you from taking what you want," he finally said. "Look me in the eye and promise we'll get another shipment of supplies. Give me your word."

She stuck one hoof towards him. "I swear to these terms. You let my campers go unharmed, and I'll make sure another shipment comes."

He extended one leg, then touched up against hers with obvious reluctance. “Agreed. They can go. But when this is over—Amie, this camp is depending on you. Those children only happen to be the ones who signed up for Pioneering. Camp Stella Lacus has many hundreds of others, whose only crime was not wanting to learn how to tie knots and survive in the wild. Will you abandon them?"

"No." She settled one hoof under her. "I'm going to get us out of this, somehow. Now I need you to tell your private army the deal we just made. Nobody attacks my campers until then, nobody takes revenge, and nobody tries to stop them when they leave. Or me, obviously. Can't negotiate for more food if they shoot me."

He stood up again, pushing the chair back. "That would be easier to enforce if you hadn't killed three of them. You're not exactly popular around here."

She ground her teeth together, baring her fangs. "Maybe it's time for you to tell them the truth. Equestrian guardsmen killed them, or their own mistakes trying to chase me down a cliff. I didn't kill anyone."

"You'll need to offer more than you have if you want that. But come—I can make them let you go, anyway. I suggest you exit the camp quickly once you do. I can't supervise them all night."

“I’ll be out of here in minutes,” she agreed. “And my campers will follow. I expect to get them in the same state they were when I saw them tonight. No punishing them for what you think I did.”

Chapter 52

By the time noon arrived the next day, Amie was aboard a secret train, cutting sharply across the otherwise empty desert surrounding Sonoma. The expedition was not much larger than the one she had taken on her way out—aside from her brother and herself, she had three companions from the orange tribe. Pachu'a and one other hunter had come this time, a stranger she didn't know yet, to protect the relief shipment.

Then there was Natane, the spy armed with Kaya's book of gathered changeling knowledge as a bargaining chip. There were no other cars, just the engine and one passenger vehicle behind it. That meant she would never get total privacy for herself and her brother to talk about Stella Lacus.

Did it matter? Amie still wasn't sure. So far the orange bugs had done exactly what they promised in every respect, and intervened in meaningful humanitarian ways. She could hardly expect more from a human city-state in a similar position.

But she couldn't shake just how inhuman these bugs were. If she relied entirely on the expectation that they would behave like people, she would make false judgements and get herself into serious danger. Kaya made it quite clear just how dangerous bugs could be. If Amie had handled the situation a little differently, she wouldn't have survived the visit.

She did her best to get a little privacy. Their lunch-table wasn't terribly interesting to the other bugs—if anything, they seemed disgusted by the act of physically eating a meal. They chose to sit elsewhere while Wes and Amie ate.

The changelings weren't very good cooks. They had brought baskets of fresh bread just as they promised, but some of it was doughy in the middle, and other loafs burned on the outside. Amie ate it all anyway, she was hungry enough for that. And Wes was observant enough to notice.

"You keep stuffing yourself like that, Amie. I know I'm not supposed to say this, buuuut..." He pointed. "I can tell. A little plump in the middle there. Maybe you should focus on magic and not eat the other stuff?"

Amie lifted another slice to her mouth and finished it, ignoring him. It wasn't fat, her visit to Sonoma had taught her that. But if she thought about what was really happening, she might just lose her grip on reality completely and break down. Better to pretend it wasn't happening, and wait for it to go away.

"Something big is happening in Stella Lacus," she said, when she had finished. "I negotiated with Albrecht last night. I'm getting my campers out. Things might be getting a little crowded at the Rent-a-Friend."

Wes's mouth fell open. For a few seconds he said nothing at all, waiting for her to admit that it was a joke. Of course, she never did.

"Does that seem like a... good idea? How many kids are these exactly?"

"I had 23 students originally, including you. Three of them are living with us right now, so another 20. Four are..." She whimpered, looking away from him. "They were starving. If I left them in Stella Lacus, I might lose even more."

"Four kids... died?" Wes asked, his voice low. What didn't come was the request for how Amie could know what she did.

"No. But they're not okay either. I stopped their bodies from starving, but I think they might be... brain-damaged? I'm not sure. I just hope they'll be able to recover with enough to eat."

"I... don't want to be the bearer of bad news," Wes began. "But twenty new ponies aren't going to go unnoticed. I'm guessing they're too weak to transform, right? And the city is keeping watch at night... then there's your boss. You think Bud will be okay with that?"

He better be, or this whole plan is doomed.

Of course none of those problems were new to Amie. She had her ideas about how to solve each one—but whether or not they actually worked depended on the cooperation of a few ponies.

"Remember that cave where we spent the night? I'm going to lead them there. I'll transform them and bring them inside in small groups, early in the morning or late at night. I got to know some of the city guards while I was working on base—I'll use that to distract them. My boyfriend might have some ideas to help there too."

Wes listened to her answer, poking and prodding at the meal in front of him. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, expression distant. When he did finally speak, it was quietly. "Suppose you can get them past the walls, then what? You said you wanted them living with us?"

Amie nodded reflexively. "There's a whole floor, and Bud can't bring anyone else into the building because of the ones working up there. He... really wants more employees. I can think of several campers in my group who would be perfect for it. Not all of them..."

"I'd think not. The average age for your kids is what, fourteen? Can you send them out to make friends with strangers in a world they don't understand?"

"No," she admitted. "Only the older ones." She folded her forelegs in front of her, glowering at him. "Shouldn't you be helping me find solutions, not point out the problems? We have to get enough food for the whole camp. We can't rely on our new friends to keep us fed. That means we need hunters mixed in with ponies, who can gather glamour and bring it back. Do you see any way around that? Because I don't."

"No..." Wes muttered, ears folding flat to his head. "Not unless we can help everyone turn into... whatever I am. I don't need glamour, I can eat this stuff."

Amie dropped her voice to a whisper. Not that what they said now was any less secret than everything else. The orange tribe already knew enough to destroy them a hundred times over, if they really wanted to "You... changed your mind about going north?"

Wes nodded. "I don't know how I'll do it—but I've poked around with some maps. There's a giant magical city further north than anything else in Equestria, called the Crystal Empire. I'm sure if I'm supposed to find a magical secret to transform bugs for the better, it will be up there."

That sounded as plausible as any interpretation. There was only one problem. Well—there were many, but one stood out. "I don't think I can go with you," she said. "There's... a camp of starving bugs who need me. I can't leave them now. I'm..."

"The queen," Wes whispered. "Does that feel weird? You weren't a queen when we got here, you looked like everybody. But now here you are, all different. Weird how it was both of us who changed, not anybody else. Albrecht could've been the queen, but it's you."

Amie giggled in spite of herself, imagining what that might've been like. Director Albrecht hardly seemed like he would handle being mother to every green bug ever born. But Amie might not do a much better job, the jury was still out.

I'm not ready. I don't want eggs, I don't want a hive. I just need to get everyone home.

She was split in so many different directions! Ivy was away in Canterlot, investigating the portals that would (hopefully) let them all travel back home. Camp was starving, she had to bring her kids out to protect them from Albrecht, she needed hunters to start gathering glamour to bring back... and now her brother wanted to investigate the words of blind bugs chanted to hallucinatory smoke deep underground.

It all came back to that camp. If it was safe to live there, Amie wouldn't have to worry about leaving her campers there. The camp had physical resources—machines, technology, and supplies. It was filled with bugs old and social enough to trust to the task.

Albrecht was right. Getting my kids out is just me being selfish.

"You figured out a problem with the plan," Wes whispered back. "I know that look. What are you thinking?"

Her wings buzzed nervously. That attracted a few confused looks from the other bugs riding with them—from Natane, anyway. Pachu'a was in the engine, and his companion had her attention fixed on the windows, watching for danger.

Natane stood up, stretched, then started walking towards them.

"I'm the queen," Amie said. "I'm not responsible for 23 campers. I'm responsible for a thousand. If I smuggle my campers out, I could feed all of them—maybe by myself, just working for the Rent-a-Friend. But that's selfish. I have to save the whole camp. That means... I have to take it over. Albrecht and his Gestapo have to go."

Those words were so right when she said them like that. For almost two months now she had defended Wes, justifying her narrow view under the pretense of protecting the person most important to her on this entire planet. He was only here because of her. He should be safe at home right now, while she was the one banished.

"Duh," Wes said, not whispering anymore. "You're the queen. Of course you're supposed to be in charge. But how do you do it? How do you convince him to step down?"

A bullet. She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Amie hadn't hurt another human being before today, and she didn't want to start now. But if she did nothing, he was going to lead the rest of camp to starvation. "There's a graveyard under the ropes course, Wes. I counted sixteen dead. Most of those were probably campers."

Natane reached their table, then bowed. She levitated something out of the bag on her side, holding it up for her. "Forgive me, Queen Amie. From what I overheard, I believe you may find this helpful. Perhaps you should study some of the Queen's knowledge."

Amie took the book gently from her magical grip, then slid sideways down the table from her plate. She left the bread where it was, fully intending to finish it later. "I... yes, I think that might be wise. How much longer do we have for this leg of the trip?"

"Until nightfall," Natane answered. "Then we'll stop just outside Salt Lick, and walk in. We'll board one of their trains to Agate. I'm... a little nervous about the prospect, I admit. But I'm confident skilled hunters and a queen can help me avoid detection."

Amie flipped through the book. Its pages were thick parchment, or maybe velum. That made them sturdy and strong, which was good considering how densely filled each and every page looked. They were all written by hand or the pony equivalent.

There was plenty in here that looked like it might be useful in combat—part of this was a spellbook. Amie ignored all that, and found herself turning to the section on medicine and caring for the tribe. Kaya had given her a detailed description of many illnesses, plenty of which were totally unknown and unknowable to human beings.

Mixed in with all those was a description of the symptoms of malnutrition and starvation, expressed from the perspective of an eusocial insect.

Amie couldn't worry about how to take over the camp without first thinking of the casualties of Albrecht's rule.

"For those denied glamour over an extended period, the symptoms of souldeath are the inevitable result. Drones who travel this path cannot be treated by any artificer or healer—only the queen's direct intervention will suffice. Without it, they will never wake from their comas, and eventually succumb.

"A queen's intervention restores their bodily function, but leaves them inchoate, physically and mentally reduced to worker caste changelings. This is why managing a colony's food supply is so critically important, as the investment of glamour and time to create a drone must not be senselessly discarded. It is far better never to create a drone population you cannot feed than to allow them to be reduced to—"

That was it—more or less what Amie already knew, except with the frightening implication of inevitability. There was no cure for the bugs, no way listed to restore them.

Amie grew more agitated, flipping through the huge book so energetically that she nearly tore the pages. Could she at least find something about—yes, there it was. Workers.

"The foundation of your hive. Workers are the simplest to produce, requiring very little care while growing from eggs to larva, to pupa, and eventually to adolescent changelings. They are the basis for our fundamental measurement system: one Drachma of Glamour is measured as the smallest quantity of our ineffable nourishment that can sustain a single worker.

"These bugs will never threaten your rule, they will never complain at the work you give them, or retreat out of personal preservation when you require them to sacrifice for the swarm's welfare. A very small number of hunters can sustain a large population of workers, to physically expand and protect the hive.

"Many queens have wondered why they would bother to create drones at all, when workers can be sustained on a tenth the glamour. Wouldn't the largest army win every war? You must be cautioned against overreliance on workers, however. Workers cannot hunt effectively, not without your personal intervention. They will not find new solutions to the challenges facing the hive. You can build a hive on the backs of your workers, but not feed it.

"If you later find it necessary to send out more hunters and have no drones to work with, you will be in a desperate predicament. Even a skilled queen can only hunt through a few drones at once, and this will not be enough. There are steps you may take, though you should always consider the solution a last resort. It is always better to plan the size of each generation, and create enough drones for your needs.

"If you fail to do so, you may discover by accident what many queens have already mastered. The workers you choose to use as your vessels will eventually develop drives and personalities of their own. The process may take months and sometimes years, but the result is the same: a new source of drones.

"This process is swifter than raising drones from scratch, but not by much. The queen who uses workers for her vessels will discover their limitations impeding their usefulness—chief among them, their exceptionally limited reserve of glamour. Do not expect to work many complex spells through them. A drone in the same position can hold and use far more magic at one time—but using them also puts a valuable member of the hive in danger.

"You must decide for yourself the balance of workers to strike with the rest of your hive. Over many years, I have learned that drones are far more valuable to the hive than workers, even if keeping them happy is a more difficult process. I never allow the population of one to outnumber the other."

Amie closed the book in front of her with a dramatic smack. She was hoping to find a treatment tucked away in Kaya's knowledge—but that wasn't it.

The only way to help those kids is to use them in a spell. It was irresponsible, unethical, and immoral. She would have to do it anyway.

Chapter 53

After almost a week among changelings, Amie found herself feeling greatly relieved when they walked into Salt Lick just after sunset, and bought themselves a few tickets for the express to Agate. They raised a few eyebrows at the ticket-booth—but it wasn't like it was hard to find an excuse.

They were prospectors traveling to a town that was always hungry for new workers. Who didn't want to make their fortune in the goldmines, even with the threat of murderous changelings locked in the mountains.

Soon enough she had their ticket ready, and they gathered together in a little circle of benches.

Amie had picked their disguises, despite Pachu'a's initial resistance. But her elevated position as a queen meant there was very little any of the orange bugs could do to argue with her, if she put her hoof down.

That meant they were going as a single family of unicorns, with a muscular and obviously rural look to them. She was the oldest and largest mare playing their mother, and the rest were all her sons and daughters. They all had variations of gray coats with different patterns of white splotches, and similar prospecting cutie marks.

Only when she returned with the tickets did Pachu’a finally stop complaining. How could he argue with success?

There were very few other ponies up at that hour of the night, particularly in a rural town where ponies worked hard through the day. It meant they were mostly alone on the platform while they waited for the train, one fictional family surrounded by potentially dangerous locals.

Pachu’a radiated a sense of profound unease, and watched the stairs up into the train station with unwavering focus. "I don't think anyone is coming," Amie said, in her older, more mature voice. She still kept her voice down, just in case. Even with no obvious spies lurking around them, they were still sitting in a pony settlement.

"Perhaps not," he agreed. "But probability is not everything. Ever since the Canterlot attack, security is heightened everywhere. Every town and settlement radiates its unease."

He nodded down at the heavy saddlebags he wore. They all had them, even Amie. Ostensibly they were packed with prospecting supplies, whatever those even were. In reality, they had split the relief shipment across each of their bags. What Amie carried was a fortune in glamour.

"Amie should've drank it all," said the other hunter, a little more casually. "Then we could travel more comfortably. So long as she has the discipline to keep from using magic accidentally in the meantime. Does she not?"

"I do," Amie muttered, annoyed. "I didn't even think of that. Can I... hold that much?"

Pachu’a nodded very slightly. "Factors of ten. The larva, one. The pupa, ten. The worker, one hundred. The drone, a thousand. The nymph, ten thousand. The queen—perhaps endless, but at least a hundred thousand. So they say—only Queen Kaya knows."

"A hundred thousand... what?" Wes asked, settling down into the spot beside Amie. He had a large cloth sack in front of him, overflowing with strange round lumps.

Amie sniffed, then reached past him to get at its contents. Peaches! From one of the local orchards, judging by how fresh it smelled. She lifted it to her lips, and bit down eagerly. It was good to eat again. She still remembered how wonderful the fruit could be.

"Drachma," Pachu’a answered. "The... ponies you know, need ten each sunrise, as do each of us. The violet tribe invented the name and system of measurement, but all have adopted it by now. It may be wise for Amie to consume what we have, once we are secure in a private car. So much power in one place—could be detected by spellcraft. But not once it was inside a living creature."

A chance to put actual numbers on everything Amie did. Her camp had about a thousand people, which meant she needed ten times as many bits and pieces of magic each day. "Hunters... bring in a thousand of those? So I would need ten like you returning home each day. That means... a few more to be traveling, and some time to make the exchange—"

Pachu’a chuckled. His voice was mostly covered by the whistle of an approaching train. "A hunter can carry more in storage—but I have rarely known a hunter to return with so much, unless they were away from home for a long time. Weeks, or months."

Weeks or months. Amie shook her head vigorously, then stood up, tossing her peach pit into a nearby trash-bin. "Months? Before I was... before things changed for me, I was full all the time. I think it took a week, tops."

Pachu’a rose beside her. There was no amusement on his face, only cold confidence. "If that is true, you are the greatest hunter who ever lived."

Amie didn't have a chance to argue. The train doors opened, and a pair of conductors stepped out. On a quiet evening train like this one, the interior was almost deserted, and a private room for the group was relatively cheap. At least—she assumed it was cheap. Amie still didn't understand the value of goods in the Equestrian currency. These things would take her some time to learn.

Eventually Amie was at the front of the private room, facing the conductor who had led them there.

"And feel free to roam the train once we're in motion. We won't be reaching your stop until early afternoon. Visit the dining car at any time, or the viewing car if you just want to appreciate Equestria's natural splendor. Or—give some of your group a chance to nap. Pull-out beds over your heads, but they do block off the seats."

Amie nodded once. "I… like the idea of a dining car, now that you mention it. Haven't had the chance for hot food in a long time."

Someone coughed behind her—Pachu’a, by the sound of his voice. But this disguise had another advantage—it would be much harder for him to question her without standing up. She was his mom, after all.

"Once we're underway," he answered. "Another group boarded at our last stop, I believe they wanted to eat as well. I'll tell the cook to add another portion."

"Two portions," Wes added from behind her, poking up over her shoulder. "Mom is expecting again. Pretty sure she could eat your whole car."

The conductor laughed, then his eyes settled on her belly. "Why—I can't believe I didn't notice. You do have that glow about you, ma'am. In that case, I'll deliver the message right away."

He turned and hurried off down the car. He wasn't there when Amie slammed the door shut, then wheeled on her brother, shoving him with one hoof back into the chair. It wasn't hard, but her disguise was much bigger than his. "Don't tell me you're buying into that now too."

He grinned back up at her, expression unchanged. "I could only listen to everyone say it for so long before I realized how much sense it made. Not sure why you'd be ashamed about it—'you're getting older, Amie. You know I'm expecting grandkids.'"

Even disguised as a pony, he did a decent impression of their father. Good enough that his smile vanished, and he looked suddenly away, ears sagging. "Guess you... might not be able to tell them."

Amie sighed. "I'm not ready for—anything like that. I don't know what to tell you." She glanced at the walls to either side, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I was gonna be a nurse practitioner one day, remember? But I don't need bio to tell you that eggs have to be fertilized. On Earth most hive insects do that internally. I've never had a... viable partner. It isn't possible."

There was probably a section about that in Kaya's book. It would probably be written in cold, calculating language about how to maximize egg production. Maybe she didn't want to read that after all.

"You're right about the process," Natane said. She settled rigidly into one of the open seats, holding almost still. Now that they were out among ponies, Amie was beginning to see why she feared discovery. She wasn't very good at being one of them. Almost as though she'd never seen outside their hive.

"Kaya usually has many partners, so each generation is strong. Trading males between tribes is one of the celebrated and successful branches of our diplomacy. If you'd been here a few weeks earlier, you could've met a fine drone from the violet—"

Pachu’a cut her off with one hoof, gently pushing her mouth closed. He seemed to say something then, but Amie heard nothing. She only felt the embarrassment from her, then the other bug nodded. She fell silent.

"This is not the place, Mother. Maybe you should get something to eat. We'll open one of these beds for your brother to rest."

She nodded. "Get me if there's any sign of trouble. But a midnight train like this—I don't know why there would be."

She removed her own little satchel from inside the relief saddlebag, then waved to her brother. She walked alone down shut doors of other private cars, feeling the gentle rocking of the train under her hooves. It was soothing, enough that she wanted to rest too. It would be nice to have somewhere dark to curl up, somewhere that the air wasn't so dry. Kaya had the right idea about where to put a throne.

Not that Amie needed a throne. She didn't want to be in charge at all, didn't want to be queen of anything.

Each cabin had a little mirror running along the door, giving her an uninterrupted look at her own reflection. Wes was right—it was starting to show.

It was a week ago! Amie really had to sit down with that book and figure out what other knowledge the queen had hidden in it for her. How long before she was... ready? I'm not ready I don't want this I'm not ready.

It should've been someone else. Amie wasn't the oldest or the smartest or the bravest—she'd just been the one willing to take some risks and protect her brother.

She reached the dining car, and sure enough there was already another group inside. Amie held the door open, then froze in her tracks, staring. She recognized one of these ponies. An off-yellow mare, with purple and pink curls in her mane and tail and candy for her cutie mark.

There were several low tables arranged around an open cooking area, where a single stallion slaved over a few steaming pots and pans. There were three others, the mare she knew and two she didn't, all sitting together.

Unfortunately for Amie, they saw her. The mare looked up first, then her eyes settled on her. General disinterested tiredness changed instantly to curiosity, with just a flicker of suspicion.

"Miss?"

No escape now. Amie stepped through the door, putting on her best smile. It still probably came off as exhausted. "I think the conductor... said I'd be coming," she said, moving for the table furthest from the ponies.

"You shouldn't eat alone, ma'am," said the mare. "Powers, get her a seat."

He stood quickly, and half-lifted a hoof to salute before the mare shot him an angry look, and he put it down. He pulled out the remaining seat, holding it towards Amie. "Miss?"

Amie turned over any polite way to decline she could think of—but her mind stayed blank. With every second she hesitated, the mare's suspicion grew.

"Thanks," Amie said, settling into the offered chair. "I appreciate it—but it's not a big deal. I can still get around fine. It's not my first time."

That last part was by far the hardest to manage with any sincerity—but there was a whole cabin of ponies who were disguised as her kids right then. Even if specific details didn't make it through the train, they probably saw the big family all getting on together.

"I'm Sweetie Drops," said the one Amie knew, extending a hoof. "This is my friend Dim Practical, and the... intern, Ardent Powers. He's learning."

Amie extended a hoof towards her, then the others in turn. "I'm—" She'd just written her fake name for the ticket. "True Silver. Just Silver's fine—feel weird with ponies calling me 'true.'”

That got a chuckle from Ardent. Sweetie Drops relaxed, settling back into her seat. All three of these ponies had heavy saddlebags with them, hanging over some empty chairs nearby. They were about as full as the ones Amie's group had brought. What the hell are you doing back here?

"Your meal," said a voice from nearby, settling a tray down between them. "Did the best with what we had on hoof after hours. Some flower surprise. Dessert's in the fridge cooling down as we speak, should be ready when you are. I have seconds for Ms. Silver when her plate is empty. Feel no need to ask, I know how mares can be with these things. No one leaves my kitchen hungry, even at midnight."

Amie grinned back at him, a little of her energy returning. "Careful with promises like that, chef. I haven't eaten a meal that filled me up in four months.”

Chapter 54

The chef aboard the train to Agate could not sate Amie's appetite, despite what he promised. But the attempt was admirable, and the conversation was better.

Despite her months in Equestria, Amie had met so few ponies in total, and her curiosity for their lives was almost as boundless as her physical and magical hunger. They might be alien equines in a magical world, but talking to them wasn't that different from entertaining a group of fresh campers.

Ponies wanted to talk about themselves, and were eager to have someone there asking the questions that would lead them from story to pleasant memory to ambitions for the future and beyond.

It wasn't easy at first. But the more she ate, the more comfortable with her the watching ponies became. She realized why just observing their emotions. Ponies don't have a spell to detect us, but they know we can't eat. Not long ago, Amie never could've emptied plate after plate of vegetables and oats and other things, not without feeling as though she was eating rotten food.

Before Amie and Wes had fled for their lives, Amie was closely connected to Stella Lacus leadership. She'd been there for the meetings where they figured out exactly how much meat it took to make other food edible, and what happened to ponies who ate other things anyway.

The answer was little different from what might happen to humans who ate bad food—explosive and unpleasant trips to the bathroom were soon to follow.

Nothing like that happened to Amie, as she cleaned out her own plate, seconds, and leftovers from the other ponies one at a time. She had to lie when the chef asked if she was full. "Just saved enough for dessert, thanks. That was wonderful."

"Told you my kitchen was different," he responded, radiating his pride and satisfaction. That could've been a little infusion of glamour for Amie, but she held back, letting it wash over her uncollected.

She had made a promise to the orange tribe—the green bugs could not drink of the pride that orange needed to survive. Maybe when we're more secure, we can negotiate paying it to them instead. This seems wasteful.

There were plenty of positive feelings to join her meal, though. All she had to do was entertain the ponies with a little conversation. It helped that the chef brought out wine for the others, but only juice for her. Because she was pregnant, obviously.

I'm pregnant. She couldn't think those words without an accompanying wave of dread. Pregnant before she was out of college, pregnant with a stranger she barely knew. Pregnant with dozens, hundreds, or maybe even thousands of young.

"You'd be better off passing Agate by if you can, ma'am," Sweetie said, pulling her firmly back to reality. "It's not as safe as it used to be."

"Because of the mountain," Amie said, feigning ignorance. "I thought there was a whole base to keep the changelings trapped. Why should I be afraid if the Royal Guard are there?"

The three ponies shared a look. There was no magic telepathy to speak of in the exchange, but they didn't need any. Amie could tell most of what they meant just from their emotions. The other two were subservient to Sweetie Drops, and wanted her permission to say something.

She was the one to say it, in the end. "It does seem like the base is doing its job for the moment," she answered. "In the months leading up to the Canterlot invasion, there were a number of disappearances among the less-fortunate. Ponies ending up in the hospital with mysterious injuries, or just going out one night and not coming back. This hasn't happened in Agate, or the other towns nearby. Motherlode hasn't had a murder since it was founded, only the occasional mining accident."

"But that doesn't mean it will stay that way," Dim added, growing a little braver. Brave enough to reach across the table, and rest one hoof on Amie's. "Please, Silver, the gold isn't worth it. You seem like a sweetheart—take your children somewhere else."

Sweetie Drops shot him a harsh look. Of course, Amie pretended not to notice. "So they're not out now... but you think they might get out?"

"Commander Path is an idiot," Ardent blurted. "He's guarding the mountain like they're an enemy army ready to battle him. But changelings aren't like that—they're stealthy, they're infiltrators. They would never battle an army of ponies. They'd lose every time! Not even dragons can stand against our elites!"

Sweetie Drops shoved a spoon of pudding into his mouth, silencing him. "As I said, it's Powers's first time. He's still learning the rules, and the risks. But I think we all agree about one thing: changelings could get out at any time. Right now Agate and the surrounding townships don't have enough security to protect against an infiltration. The commander has armies flying on patrol when he should have ponies in the constabulary and the morgue. He should be watching for unexplained injuries, and checking up on every disappearance. That's how we'll know when there are changelings among us."

"You should leave before you deliver, miss," Dim said, a little more confidently. "There's no love quite as potent as between a foal and their mother. You'll draw them down on you like flies. They are kinda like flies. Nothing is sacred to them, no food they won't devour. Particularly with winter coming soon. They'll be desperately hungry. They might start eating ponies again."

"Don't tell her that," Sweetie hissed. "Don't terrify the poor mare. Most of that isn't even public."

Amie didn't have to act. Her stomach twisted, and she put down her spoon with dessert still unfinished. "You just said... they..."

Sweetie Drops rested one hoof on her shoulder, turning her gently to meet her eyes. "I know it can be hard to believe—but just because they look a little like us doesn't mean they have anything in common. Make no mistake, there are invaders on that mountain. They're the greatest danger Equestria has ever faced. But please, don't panic. There's no sign of an infiltration yet. Tomorrow or the next day—well, that's why we're coming to Agate. Let's just say ponies all the way at the top are worried about a breach, and they've sent ponies to make sure it doesn't happen."

Amie nodded weakly. Some part of her was still imagining just what Queen Chrysalis was like, that she was willing to allow her swarm to do such terrible things. And there was another part that wondered what Stella Lacus would do if they ran out of food in the winter, and everyone started starving at once.

She wanted to believe her campers were better than all that—but she didn't know for sure. There was a very real danger of exactly what these ponies said happening when winter came and the prey was all gone.

Unless Amie did something about it. "You're all... Royal Guards?" she guessed. "Here to improve security in the city watch?"

Sweetie finally let go of her shoulder, and went back to her dessert. "Something like that. I'm an expert in fighting the changelings. They once hurt a pony very close to me, and I'm determined not to let that happen to anypony else. If we can do our job, you won't have anything to worry about prospecting in Agate. But there's still no way to detect them preemptively—we're stuck waiting until they give themselves away. If you do decide to stay, and you see something strange—don't hesitate to tell a guard. Or one of us. We'll be opening an office of Changeling Activities in the next few days, with experts on duty at all hours. Anything you see, please pass along."

Amie nodded, and went back to her meal. At least if she kept her mouth busy, she didn't have to find something to say.

I'm going to bring in a whole group of bugs who don't know how to change, and barely know anything about ponies. Now there's gonna be a special security force to look for us?

"I don't understand—have we tried talking to them? Maybe if we sent ponies up onto that mountain, we could work something out. They might not want to hurt anypony."

"They don't have a choice," Dim said. "You're not the first pony to think of that, believe me. Princess Celestia herself tried negotiation, during the invasion. They're not interested in conversation. No matter how much they might want to, they can't help but need to eat. Nothing we can say will change the fact that they see us as food."

Amie took another bite of pudding, clearing off her plate. She was actually starting to feel full—on the meal, and an ample portion of real concern for her radiating from this crew of very dangerous creatures.

"Oh," was all she said, without argument. If she wasn't a queen, she might've taken a daring chance with a little more—these ponies thought her kind were evil monsters, but they were also the ones sent to deal with them.

I need to write them a letter. If I can get them to read it, maybe they'll give us a chance. They were setting up an office in town, apparently. She could address it there.

The ponies across from her were obviously running out of energy. One by one they returned to their room, until it was just Amie and Sweetie left at the table. Sweetie nursed another glass of wine, while Amie had juice. It was drinkable, but nowhere near as good as proper glamour.

Every second they spoke, she had to resist the urge to tell the truth. Ponies were so afraid of changelings, but they knew almost nothing about them! If she could fill in the gaps in their understanding, there would be no more need to fight.

She never did. Eventually Sweetie Drops too got up, nodding to her. "Maybe we'll see you in Agate, miss. Keep a close eye on your foals if that's where you stay. Please."

"I will," Amie said, without deception. "They're all I have in the world. I'll do anything to keep them safe."

As Amie closed on the private bedroom, she felt the panic radiating out through the walls. She quickened her pace, as much as she dared. She didn't exactly know where Sweetie Drops and her fellow agents were staying. One of the locked private rooms, probably. Maybe even the one right next to hers.

Amie knocked lightly on the door, then spoke in a low whisper. She didn't need an excuse for that, not when it was well after midnight and most ponies would be asleep. "I'm back. Can someone unlock the door, please?"

Someone did. Pachu’a appeared in the doorway for an instant, then yanked her inside, and shut the door just as quickly.

Instead of resting the night away, she found her car at a state of panic. Everyone was up next to the side. Natane had one of the lamp-fixtures down off the wall, and seemed ready to use it to shatter the window. They were all wearing their saddlebags, as though expecting an imminent evacuation.

"We need to get off this train," Pachu’a whispered, directly into her ear. "I know your brother can't fly. We'll have to carry him. We can't be here. There are SMILE agents aboard."

She kept her voice just as low. Instead of fear, she projected as much confidence and relaxation as she could. "I know. We had an interesting conversation over dinner."

"And they brought you here under arrest?" Pachu’a finished. "Easier than making a scene."

"No." She stepped back, then nudged her brother. She didn't have to say any of the next part nearly as quietly. "Get some real sleep, Wes. You'll need it."

He nodded eagerly, climbing back up into the bunk. He slid out of the saddlebags, levitating them to the floor. "That's what I told them."

"Nobody fools those agents," Pachu’a said, his voice just as harsh and low as before. "I've lost hunters to them before."

It didn't seem that hard. Amie shook her head again, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. "We did talk about some of the dangers of moving into a town so close to the changeling mountain. They tried to talk me out of staying. But I told them the gold is just too good. We couldn't turn down a contract like this, so I wasn't turning around."

She settled into an empty seat, then gestured towards Natane. “Put that back where you found it. And get the book out, I'd like to get some reading in."

The three kleovore changelings all stared, radiating a mix of disbelief and fear. But she didn't budge. There was no explosion of noise from down the train. As the seconds passed, even they were forced to see the truth of what she said. There was no attack coming—Sweetie Drops and the others didn't know she was a changeling.

"This is why creatures like you stay home," Pachu’a muttered, curling up near the wall. "Make my hearts give out if you keep this up.”

Chapter 55

Just like that, Amie was back in Agate.

Despite the risks of their journey, the trip was far faster by pony train—there was no need to stop at secret stations, to hide their train at random or travel much slower to avoid meeting a legitimate pony craft along the route.

The insistence on avoiding too much contact with ponies seemed like a strange one—particularly when Amie was fully confident in her ability to hide.

She even stopped for a brief conversation with Sweetie Drops as they disembarked, wishing her luck with her mission.

"I feel safer knowing there's a pony like you looking out for us," she said "Thanks for everything you do."

The mare nodded politely back. "Just my duty, ma'am. Unfortunately I won't be in town long, or I would ask to see your foal after you deliver. I hope the world you bring them into is a safe one."

Amie watched her go, leading her “family” through the streets of Agate. They'd arrived at lunchtime, which meant large crowds to cover their passage through the city. Even so, she made sure to split them up, with Pachu’a and Wes in one group while she took the other two orange bugs somewhere to hide, change, and travel separately to the Rent-a-Friend.

When it finally came into view, Amie's fear returned in force, imagining a burned out husk with Royal Guards around to watch for their return. Instead, there was nothing out of the ordinary—just the usual flow of pony traffic into the building. The lobby was packed with hopeful new clients as ever.

"Go up those stairs," she whispered, pointing around to the back of the building. “I have to talk to someone first."

"I am... not happy with this," Natane muttered. "I'm meant to be in court, not undercover."

"Court is under construction," Amie answered, waving them off with a pegasus wing. She was back in that first form she'd used, when she copied Tailslide by accident. It happened to be one of the few that her boss would recognize.

She slipped into the lobby, and had to wait her turn to get to the front and speak to the bored secretary.

"Bud wanted to talk to me," was all she said, before the secretary could pass her the forms.

The secretary looked up, then nudged her shoulder towards the door. "Hope you're being straight with me. Can't skip the line by cheating."

"I'm not a client," Amie answered. She didn't want to say more—so far as she knew, no one else at Rent-a-Friend even suspected there were changelings on the team. That was how she wanted it to stay.

Once she was into the hall, Amie decided to change again, into the unicorn nurse she had hoped to use when she still thought her Earth qualifications would help her. The pegasai's hollow bones and a heavy saddlebag of gear just did not work well together.

The unicorn wasn't much bigger, but the weight was a little friendlier with her shoulders. She relaxed, and hurried up the steps.

Bud was there, pacing back and forth in front of several large whiteboards. One was the staff assignment for Agate, and another was labeled "Manehattan Branch." Most of its spots were empty.

He looked up as she came in. "I'm not ready to interview clients right now, you shouldn't be..." He trailed off, then stopped. "Amie Blythe." He levitated several magnets onto the desk in front of him, each one with a little name written on it.

"Did something go wrong with your client? You should be on duty right now. I saw you leave an hour ago."

Shit. Amie shook her head. "Nothing wrong with the client, sir. I—" She couldn't suggest that her brother was doing it, not without knowing if Rick had taken a job of his own. Then there was no other choice. "It is why I'm here. Do you have a few minutes? I can come back if you're busy."

Bud's face soured, a frown spreading slowly across it. "I was in the flow state, Amie. You disrupted me. I hope this was worth it."

Good thing she could still read his emotions. She still had a lot of emotional capital with him, and he was inclined to be forgiving. He was secretly glad she wasn't asking for more after getting them the Manehattan branch. And there was still that small part in the back of his mind that thought she was a dangerous predator who might break and attack him at any time.

Very small now, but not quite silent.

Amie glanced at the mostly blank board he'd been looking at. "When I finished with the Ivy Path job, your letter asked if I knew others who could do this kind of work. Remember that?"

He nodded slowly. "And you referred your brother. You were right about your reservations—not as outgoing and adaptable as you. But for the right client, that's fine. There are a good number of clients who feel intellectually stunted here in Agate. Bits are too good to leave, but we barely even have a library..."

He trailed off. "Did you leave your client early today? I presume you have a good reason."

"I... didn't leave him. I'm still with him, it's just—" She tried to come up with another explanation, but nothing came to mind. It was time for a little honesty. "Well, the truth was that I did have more talent for the Rent-a-Friend. Someone so talented that she's been playing me for the last week and a half. And... technically, she's been a hippogriff more than a pony, so she's probably better at playing one than I would ever be. She has barely been anything else."

Bud settled down on his haunches, staring at the floor. His emotions became a blur to her—suspicion, betrayal, and greed all mixed together into one. "I'm guessing you're not really friends with a hippogriff. So she's—"

"One of my kind, yeah," Amie said. She didn't hesitate this time—now that she was started, she would have to finish. No backing out. "That's why I'm here. You said you needed talent, and I have some talent that you can use." She walked past him, to the Manehattan board. "How many ponies do you need to open a new branch?"

The sour mix of negative emotions resolved into just two—greed, and suspicion. Now if she could only get one of those to dominate over the other...

"I can't use just anyone. Your talents are—remarkable, I'll give you that. Having access to any species or age or tribe from just one talent, that's incredible stuff. But we only have so many exotic clients. For every pony who wants to talk to a griffon, there are ten more who just want somepony like them. I'm not sure your kind could fill that need, no matter how well-meaning."

"I think..." Her instincts told her to keep her mouth shut, that any information she shared would only weaken the hive. But Amie didn't have to listen to those instincts if she didn't want to. Her human sense of right and wrong told her there was another way to make this work. The same one she'd used on Ivy.

"I think we're not as different as you think, boss. I think they could make friends with ponies just the same as pony talent. We have more in common than you realize."

He rolled his eyes. "Amie, sweetheart. Your kind invaded Canterlot. Hundreds of ponies died. You ask me to accept that you and your brother are different than the rest, I can grant you that. I have a whole crew of miscreants and outcasts at Rent-a-Friend. But if you ask me to believe history didn't happen, I can't. I know what your kind are capable of."

She stepped closer to him. It took great focus to keep from shouting. The words “your kind” lingered in her head like a curse. "Changelings have tribes, Mr. Bonzer. The ones who attacked you are the Erovores—blue bugs, led by Queen Chrysalis. I can tell you my bugs are different, because we're not part of her tribe. We're green—our powers are different, and our history is different."

She rushed ahead, moving closer to him now. "We weren't born as changelings, boss. My brother and me and all the others I know—we're not like other changelings because we're from another world, where we weren't bugs. A world where we had families and homes and lives of our own. Some kinda magical disaster brought us here, changed us into monsters. But just because we look like it on the outside doesn't mean we're monsters inside."

She tapped her chest with one hoof, now within reach of him. At least Bud hadn't backed away in fear. "In the place I came from, I was much closer to a pony than to a bug. If I could, I'd go back to being what I was, and never look back. But we can't—so we have to survive in other ways."

"I... feel you, Amie," he said. "I feel like you mean what you say. But I'm not trying to run a... charity, here. This is a business. If it's true and this is all some magical mistake, I'm not the one to go to for help. Why are you even here? You need the bits that badly?"

Not anymore. That was why she had first taken the job, when it was the only one that would take them. She just needed to keep Wes safe. But now...

"Because it's a perfect fit," she said. "The evil blue changelings—they need love, it's what keeps them alive. I'm a green changeling, and what we need is... friendship. That's how I did such a good job with Ivy—and why I'm sure the other bugs that have been working for the last week did great too. We don't hurt anyone, we haven't here and we won't anywhere else. All we need is a chance to make friends. That's why I came to your office—I'd like you to consider taking on more bugs, either here or in your Manehattan branch. We'll be the best workers you ever had."

Bud didn't answer. He walked slowly back to his desk, flipped through the ledger there, made a few notes. She followed him over to the other side, but remained silent, waiting on his answer. One way or another, the future of her changelings was in his hooves.

"If all that's true—I want to renegotiate your rate. If the friendship is how you're really getting paid..." The last of his suspicion finally faded, leaving only his greed behind.

"How about eighty percent?" Amie suggested. "We still need some bits to support ourselves. We live in Equestria the same as you."

"Thirty," he said. "You have to live in the compound anyway. You need somewhere you won't be discovered. That's value I didn't weight properly before."

"Sixty five."

"Half," he shot back. "Final offer. Don't push me, Amie. You're good, but I'm sticking my neck out for you. Most other ponies wouldn't give you the time of day, they'd run without hearing you out."

"Deal." She stuck out her hoof, reaching across the table. "Half of what you've been paying me. And we still get room and board to hide in when we're not on duty."

He took her hoof, shaking vigorously. "Pleasure doing business with you, Amie Blythe. Of course there's one more thing—as far as my records are concerned, you're all ponies. I never knew you were bugs. No one outside this room knows. If you ever get caught—I don't have to protect you. You infiltrated my shop, and I was none the wiser. I want you to promise, that's your story."

He trusts me enough to try a promise? Amie nodded. "We won't get caught. Like I said, we—we'd rather be ponies than bugs, anyway. But you might want to think of some... silent alarm you could switch, to warn all of us to be in costume if someone might be coming in. Would save you losing good talent, and my friends getting executed. Win-win."

He suppressed a laugh. "Thought of it already, actually. Sulfur in the ventilation system—smells like eggs, you hide. Not set up yet, but it's coming together..." He stood up. "How many... talented new friends... can you find for me? I'll remind you that we're an exclusive bunch at Rent-a-Friend. Not everypony is cut out for it, even most real ponies can't manage this job. I want to interview all of them personally."

"Would we be relocating to Manehattan?" Amie asked. "I see a lot of blank slots on your board."

He shook his head once. "Not at first. I was hoping to use you to cover our existing clients here in Agate. Most of my staff would relocate. That goes well, I can bring in a few to cover the exotic requests. If it goes well. I'll get you a list of the personalities I'm looking for, and you can bring me candidates to interview. Sound fair?"

Amie nodded. “You won’t regret this, boss. I think you’ll be as impressed with the talent as I am.”

Chapter 56

Amie returned to her bedroom a few minutes later, brimming with nervous energy over what she had just done. It felt like a successful negotiation, like she had just made the first steps towards broadening the pool of prospective hunters who could aid the camp.

She wouldn't know she had succeeded for sure until Bud actually accepted new bugs ready to work. Until then, it was just one more item on a long list of steps she was taking to keep Stella Lacus alive. That was another easy one out of the way—the much harder obstacle remained.

I have to take back the camp.

Thankfully there were no soldiers waiting for her in the hallway. Bud might not be happy with her, but she was far too useful to the Rent-a-Friend to want to remove. If that ever changed, she was screwed.

Wes was already there, along with the rest of her expedition. Along with a considerably more dramatic change. Slime.

Amie had seen its like before, a waxy orange substance used all over Sonoma. They used it in their windows, and to divide otherwise empty cavern sections into individual cells. She'd even seen tools made from it.

No such order guided the structure she saw now. A thin layer of green covered everything. The window was caked over with so much of the goop that it was probably as sturdy as a wall. It covered the tables and chairs, a thin film that hardened like glass in some places, and solidified into thick green chunks in others. Worst was the bedroom, where it filled the closet almost solid, ruining every bit of pony clothing Amie had acquired.

Wes sat in that doorway, staring at the wreckage of the bed he had slept in since moving in. "You're wondering what I was," he said, radiating his frustration. "What the hell?"

I should've used that mind-transporting to check on Rick and Beth. "Basically that, yeah." She spun, facing the changeling expedition behind her. They had already removed their bags, spreading out to relax near the shut window. She wasn't imagining things—Natane had a chunk of goop in her magic, and appeared to be eating it.

Amie had seen the insect nursery, but this was a little too far. Her stomach turned, and she choked back a mouthful of hot bile. Now that she was eating food again, her stomach was vulnerable. Unfortunately. "What my brother said" She gestured around the room. "What happened in here, Pachu'a?"

Far from upset, the hunter seemed amused. "If I didn't know better, I would say you must have larva crawling around here somewhere."

"You do know better," Amie said. When Bud finds out about this, we're screwed. She better hope the goo was edible, because there might not be any other way to get rid of it.

Natane chewed slowly, and her wings buzzed. "Interesting. Curiosity, joy, affection. I never tasted these."

Amie ignored her—whatever that meant, it didn't help her understand. She focused her attention on Pachu'a, tapping one hoof impatiently.

"What happens when a bug holds too much magic? They spin it into propolis. It's very rare for drones to hold so much—our hive uses larva. A nurse can carry them, spinning as they go, without the cost of much glamour. What you see here—about the same as one of our relief saddlebags."

"I'm guessing they didn't know what was happening to them," she began. "Rick and Beth are both working... they must've picked up some glamour on the way. And they've been... spinning it all this time. How do they stop?"

The other hunter laughed, grinning at her. Her name was Si'tsi, Amie was fairly sure. "Forgive me queen, but you don't need to exaggerate your hunters' talents! It would take at least a dozen to gather all this since you left—seven days?"

Pachu'a raised one wing to silence her. There was no rebuke—clearly he agreed, even if he didn't want to say so himself. "They need to fill another vessel. Use a thin layer of propolis, as I've shown you. It can be spun intentionally, though—no sane bug would waste so much. A drone holding such a large quantity of magic would feel bloated to bursting with magic. It is neither safe nor wise."

Amie nodded. "We'll have to explain that to them when they get back. And store this glamour. We can bring it with the relief expedition.

The room was empty otherwise, though still had signs of occupation. Rick and Beth's things were roughly separated into different areas, with a few bits of disassembled tech covering the kitchen table. Amie couldn't exactly guess what Rick was doing, but a little tablet screen was on, showing the intranet logo on the corner that meant it was connected to camp.

His rooftop antenna was still working, and apparently solar too if he didn't care about it dying.

"This is the first step," Pachu'a said, as soon as she shut the door. Only her brother remained in disguise—the others were already changelings again. "How should we bring the relief to your swarm? If my hunter and I are to do it, it would require multiple trips."

Amie locked the door behind her, checked the curtains, then abandoned her pony illusion. That made her the largest in the room, though not by much. She couldn't be much more than an inch taller than Pachu'a. More than the other females... how fast was she growing?

"Before you do, I wonder if there might be... can I speak openly with you, Pachu'a? You've been this way your whole life. I feel your knowledge of changelings might help me solve a... problem I'm facing."

Every bug in the room was now staring at her, almost as hungry as when powerful pony emotions were nearby. The hunter approached her, then lowered his head in a slight bow. "I am honored to assist. But I should not need to remind you whom I serve. If you wish for true loyalty, only one of your own can provide it."

Amie nodded. "That's... kinda the problem here. Where I am—hunting for information, gathering food, that worked fine when I was just another bug. But I'm not one anymore, I'm the queen. My swarm is dying right now, under leadership that doesn't understand what it means to be a changeling. I'm younger than Albrecht, I'm not as well-educated, I've never had to be in charge of as many people as he is—but I can't just sit here and let him destroy us."

"You're saying that a swarm would do better with a queen leading them?" Natane asked, her tone light and amused. "What a shocking revelation you've come to! It isn't as though every tribe on the planet already made that same discovery before you."

Amie raised an eyebrow—or she probably would have, if she still had them. All this time traveling with that bug, and she didn't even think she was capable of so much independence and bravery. Unless it wasn't her talking at all. Kaya could be listening in the room with her at that moment.

"I did not think it strange when we met," Pachu'a said. "Because you were not a queen then. I did not even know it was… possible, to change caste that way. But you are the first generation from our homeworld, you may not obey the same rules that other bugs do. Now that the green swarm has a queen, it does seem strange that she wouldn't be ruling. You conducted negotiations on behalf of your bugs, did not you not? How will you enforce those treaties while living here?"

It would be easy, right then. No bug from inside the camp was hunting, unless they were with her. She could be confident that her companions would obey her. The same would not be true if Stella Lacus eventually got past the blockade on their own.

"I don't need to rule with an iron fist—I don't need total control, like what your queen has. But I need to be there, I need to be in charge." Something groaned under her, a gurgling sound loud enough that she actually fell silent in embarrassment. That wasn't her stomach. Agate isn't a safe place to build a nest.

"Has Kaya ever had to deal with disobedient bugs before?" she asked, speaking a little louder and faster. Anything to stop Wes from pointing out the obvious. "How would she deal with a problem like Albrecht? He has... I'm guessing about a dozen soldiers. I don't know the state of camp leadership, but he must have their loyalty if they still do what he says. Basically, he set himself up as queen, without knowing what he was doing."

"Don't forget that he already has people convinced that you're the devil," Wes added. "They think we murdered people on our way out. Pretty sure the ponies did all the killing, technically speaking."

Including my boyfriend. He saved my life by killing Garcia. Amie was counting the hours until evening whistle. When he got off of work... she had an awful lot of stress that needed relieving. A royal sum.

"Easy," the other hunter said. She didn't say much. "Kill him, then display his body as an example to others who might do the same. Anything less than absolute loyalty to the swarm is unacceptable. Incompetent leadership costs lives."

It sure did. Amie would never get that lonely graveyard out of her mind, with its row of little wooden crosses. At the same time, the thought of killing Albrecht and his soldiers to take over didn't sit right with her either. When she left the first time, she'd seen him as a good, desperate man, trying to hold his camp together against impossible odds. Maybe he still was.

"My student is too eager for blood," Pachu'a said, resting one wing on hers. "We cannot command you, Queen Amie. But I warn against simple violence. There was a time for that—when the first act of treachery occurred. Now he is entrenched. The simplest violence will prompt resistance from those who served him. Many of those may be skilled drones, with talents and knowledge that are difficult to replace.”

He walked past her to the tablet computer, inspecting it for a second. He seemed to lose interest quickly, turning back to her. "If you ask my advice, it is to move quietly. You must kill him in secret, and only when you are in position to become his natural replacement. That may take time, but it will make for rule that is secure."

They're so eager to kill. Hearing them talk like that, Amie couldn't help but think back to her conversation with Bud only a few minutes before. You can't tell me history didn't happen. I know how you really are.

"It's a male," Si'tsi said. "And you're a nymph about to be queen. Can't you just take him as your mate? Then you'd inherit all his power, and you could gradually replace him."

Wes broke down into strangled laughter, trying and failing to cover it with his mouth. "I don't think she'll try that."

Amie fought back the heat around her face at that suggestion. Of course, if she wasn't going to use violence, she would naturally use sex instead. What a great idea! "That is not happening. I... Pachu'a, can I ask you to wait here a night before we make the relief mission? I believe I would be better at fairly distributing it than Albrecht is."

The hunter's expression hardened. "I will wait one night, Queen Amie. But we will not see you use these supplies to fight a war. Many bugs in Sonoma donated them knowing there were starving children that needed to be fed. I will not see it used for any other purpose."

Amie nodded. "I won't use it to empower an army, or myself." Camp Stella Lacus doesn't have candidates to make an army even if I wanted to. "But I don't think Albrecht has to be the one to give it out. I can do a better job."

"We will see," Natane said. "Whatever your plan, you should move quickly. Your bugs weaken by the day. It is far easier to feed a drone than to revive one from torpor."

Chapter 57

Amie went to her quarters after that, she needed to be alone to think. Her mission was obviously virtuous, but the odds against her seemed overwhelming. She couldn't turn to Equestria for help, the ponies thought they were monsters and wanted them dead. She couldn't retreat to her camp and organize a united front for survival, because camp wanted her dead too.

Then there was Ivy, who might find the key to sending everypony home, or might betray her directly to the princess on a whim. Bud might help them hunt, or call the guard to get rid of them when they got too troublesome.

It would all be so much easier if camp was filled with adults. Then she wouldn't have to burn herself with guilt every time she thought about having them help, or take risks. They could decide for themselves what was worth fighting for, instead of looking to Amie as their protector. If Equestria only knew who they were starving up in the mountains...

Amie spread her detailed map of camp on her table, circling slowly around it while she thought. Somewhere on those pages there had to be an answer, hidden in plain sight. All she had to do was take over from a much more experienced leader who surrounded himself with armed guards! What could be simpler?

Hoofsteps sounded on the balcony outside, heavy and familiar. She felt exhaustion through that door, someone just as overwhelmed as she was. Overwhelmed with real emotions.

Amie became a bat. The change was so easy for her she barely thought about it anymore, as mechanical as clipping the straps of her bra behind her back. Not easy exactly, but familiar. When the magic faded, her head was no longer high enough to see the map on the table.

The door slid open a few seconds later, and Tailslide stumbled in. He fumbled for the light switch with one hoof, not seeing her yet in the gloom. She waited by the table, silent until he flicked the switch.

The light briefly blinded her bat-eyes, making her bare her teeth for a second in instinctive fear. But it didn't last. Tailslide was back. "Hey!" She waved one wing in his direction. "Wondered when you would get back from work.

Tailslide froze, eyes wide. "You're—you're back already? Back from your diplomatic mission?"

Now that she wasn't going to startle him, Amie closed the distance in a few steps, so she was within reach. He didn't smell great, more of those awful forge chemicals. But he looked a lot healthier. Now that he had somewhere warm to sleep and enough to eat, he wasn't working to death. "Finished it. There was... more diplomacy to work through here."

He nodded weakly, then leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. Magically speaking, the affection wasn't much. But for Amie, it restored more than any glamour could quantify.

He walked past her to the fridge, then flicked it open. It wasn't empty anymore, the stuff Wes usually stocked had all been moved. He took a large bowl of hearty-looking stew, then poured it into a pot. "Put the other one on too," Amie said, following him over. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, and I'm starving."

Tailslide shrugged, then obeyed. "Still doing that? I thought that might just be because I... wore you out."

Amie chuckled. Her face felt warm all over again, but now she was in private. There was no reason to feel shy. "In a way, I guess that's why. There's... a lot you don't know. Can we talk about it later? One of the luxuries of having a boyfriend is not needing to think. I'm ready to stop thinking for a while."

"Oh. Let me get cleaned up. You can tell me about your trip after."

Amie felt much better. She was back to aching all over, but it was the kind of pain that reminded her of why life was worth living. In her handful of previous boyfriends, none had ever been quite like Tailslide.

Amie didn't wear out the way she had the first time, either. So much emotion in one place refreshed her far faster than her strength naturally waned, and still left her far fuller than when she started. In the end, it wasn't Tailslide or herself wearing out that brought her back to reality—it was the hunger and amusement she felt through the wall.

Kaya's bugs might not be spying on her every second, but they were still here, watching and feeling everything.And if Wes noticed, she might just die of embarrassment. She couldn't have privacy here, not like the luxury of a little boat on the lake.

Good thing that strange desire to sleep didn't return, or else she might've had trouble with the weight of all her other responsibilities. She didn't have the time to rest.

For all his tiredness, Tailslide didn't either. He joined her at the table, settling onto his haunches beside her chair. "You were looking at the map before I got here. What is this?"

"Camp Stella Lacus," she answered, looking back at him. "Buck, I forget how much you don't know. Everything kinda turned upside-down during the trip. It's a mess, Tailslide. I'm not sure what to do."

"Maybe I can help." He leaned over the map, studying it carefully. "Your camp is bigger than I expected. It's bigger than some towns."

"A hundred cabins. Then this little neighborhood here, these houses are for the staff. Counselors live in cabins near the students. In busy years we sometimes have kids in military tents here. Thank God we didn't have the extra population."

Tailslide looked up from the map. "Commander Path thinks these are barracks. From the air, we can see obstacle courses, an archery range, and some other things. Before I met you, I believed him—thought it was training a changeling army."

Amie chuckled. "He doesn't have an army. A private police-force, maybe. But that's... that's what's bothering me. This isn't on you—if you don't want to hear any of it, I'll... I'm sure I'll figure this out. I just need to let the problem stew for a while longer. There has to be a solution here."

"What are you trying to do?" Tailslide asked. "Remember why I stayed in Agate. I didn't know if I would ever see you again, I just thought what Equestria was doing was wrong. I want to help the ones stuck on that mountain, I still do."

Every person she told just made the risk of information escaping worse. But Tailslide wasn't going to run to Albrecht. Betrayal from him was far less likely than the orange bugs. Not that she expected it from either. "The bugs in Stella Lacus aren't just in trouble from Equestria—they're in trouble because their leader doesn't know what he's doing. I saw how things are like—it's bad. Someone has to take his place. I wish it could be someone else, but..."

Tailslide reached over, and brushed a few strands of her mane away from her face. "You want to... take over? That doesn't seem like you, Amie."

She hopped down off her chair, spreading both wings in a brief glide to the floor. What she said next was far more dangerous than any threats against an unseen changeling that Tailslide had never met.

"I don't want to," she said flatly. "If there was another way—I wouldn't. But Albrecht doesn't understand Equestria, he doesn't understand magic, and he doesn't understand changelings. He would still... be really useful in a lot of ways. Organization, logistics, and camp leadership. He knows the place, he knows the people. But he doesn't know our new world."

"Can you teach him those things?" Tailslide suggested. He held up one wing, defensive. "I'm not telling you that you wouldn't make a great leader. But I... am a little worried about the future of that camp. If you go back there, you're going to get swept up in whatever's coming. I don't know how long Equestria just... sits here. Commander Path would have attacked already if he knew how vulnerable you are. When he realizes..."

Oh God. Amie could tell truth when she heard it. Of course the commander had never mentioned any of his future plans to her, or any time she was around. She was just a hired actor, convincing his daughter to leave so she wouldn't pursue a military life.

"There's another reason it has to be me." She walked past him, gently pulling the curtains closed at the corners. They were already shut, but that little bit of extra light around the edges was still too much to risk with what she was about to do. Nopony outside of that window knew what she was.

"I know you've already seen what I really look like," she continued. "And you're... still here, anyway. But since the last time we met, I've changed. I don't know why—even the other changelings I visited couldn't tell me. But it happened."

Tailslide followed her. "I'm not afraid, Amie. I know you can look however you want. I figured you came up with that mare because you knew I would like her."

"Uh... okay, yeah. I could tell which of my different bodies made you feel more..." She shook her head vigorously, until she got it out of her head. It wasn't easy, with the smells of the last few hours still around them. "Honestly, I think I like being a bat more than anything else I've been so far. And I like being pretty—but I'm something else underneath, and that's what changed. I'll show you."

She closed her eyes, focused for a few silent moments. The bat vanished, and a changeling nymph took her place.

Tailslide was tall even for a pegasus, but now she was looking at his chin instead of his breast. She was still leaner and narrower, but not by much. Most dramatic was probably still having a mane, though that wasn't what his attention settled on. He stared directly into her eyes.

Amie wasn't limited to his physical reaction, though she had enough time around ponies to read shock when she saw it. His mouth opened and shut again, along with his wings, without producing any useful sound.

"Will you be upset if I say you’re more intimidating this way? Drones are… smaller, less dangerous. Now you’re all pointy. Reminds me of the wanted posters of Queen Chrysalis. Are you like her?”

Amie faced him again. She didn't move, not when his feelings turned so dark. He was afraid, and a nudge too hard might push him over the edge. There were other feelings present too—their last few hours proved that. She just had to lean on it.

"Queen Chrysalis is a monster—the things she did are evil. I'm not her—I'm Amie Blythe. I wasn't on your world when Equestria was invaded. I've never hurt a pony."

Tailslide closed one wing, then the other. He kept standing, as though ready to flee if he had to. Of course that wouldn't happen—if he decided to run, Amie wouldn't have the heart to stop him, no matter the consequences. "Why did you change? If I could choose, I wouldn’t copy her."

"I didn’t choose. So... you know how I said that changelings had tribes, like ponies? We don't have princesses, we have queens—every tribe does. The green tribe living in Camp Stella Lacus didn't have a queen... but now they will. Me."

She sagged onto her haunches, staring at the floor. Her wings spread limply to either side, betraying just how defeated she felt. How much pressure could one girl take before she exploded?

Not much more, surely. "We haven't been together long. If you're scared—I understand. I just ask if you're going to run that you not do anything that will hurt the bugs up in Stella Lacus. They're just kids, like Rick and Beth. They don't deserve to die."

Tailslide was silent for a long time. She had already felt pressure like this once, when Bud was deciding the survival chances of her changelings. Amie didn't really think he was capable of hurting the innocent bugs up at camp, but he could hurt her. It wouldn't take much.

"So you're the queen of your kind—the green tribe," he said. She couldn't read his feelings anymore—either he was keeping his emotions disciplined, or Amie's own confused them too much. She was definitely crying, so that didn't help. "You plan on taking over the camp?"

Amie closed her eyes again, then changed. Becoming the bat would probably be smarter, but the form just wouldn't come. She settled on another—the pegasus she'd designed weeks ago, when she tried to imagine what a pony version of Amie would have looked like. The version of herself she should've been here in Equestria, who could be welcomed by the ponies and probably helped to find a way home.

It was definitely easier for Tailslide to be near her this way. Some small part of him was still disgusted by the way changelings looked. That disgust came with shame, but it was still there. When she changed, only the shame remained.

"I have to," she said. Her voice was easier on him too, now that the strange reverberation of a bug's throat was gone from it. "Kids are starving up there. Albrecht doesn't know how to care for them, he doesn't know how to feed them. I have to—I can't let them starve."

Chapter 58

Tailslide faced her down “Tell me, Amie. Let's say you go forward. Tomorrow night you're in charge on that mountain, what do you do? Equestria already knows how dangerous a queen can be when her hive is threatened. There's a lot of suffering—a lot of funerals. A lot of ponies who don't come home."

Amie stormed over to him, closing the distance in a few strides. She was back to being the smaller of the two, though as a pegasus the difference was less stark. She would still be easy for him to overpower, if he wanted to. The only magic she would get to use was changing into something else. "Don't compare me to her, Tailslide. You know me. You tried to kill me the first time we met, and I saved you. I could've left you and went to Motherlode. I've been alone in the office with the leader of the royal guard watching my tribe—I didn't hurt him."

She turned her back just as quickly, both wings open and her fur standing on end. Pegasai definitely had a posture to reflect the kind of annoyance she felt. "You know me. I don't want to hurt anyone. You want to know what I want to do? Make a treaty with Equestria. My kids don't have to starve, and no ponies have to get hurt. The right pony in the middle can negotiate.The alternative is some idiot like Albrecht or Path. Ponies and changelings are dead because of them. I thought you believed in me. I thought you... you wanted to help us."

A wing wrapped around her shoulder. Tailslide, though his grip wasn't as confident as a few hours before. This conversation had done damage, and it would need to heal. "I want to help you. But I think I... needed to hear that. I believe you—I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I hope there's a way to do what you want."

"Me too," she said. She wiped a few angry tears away from her face. "I don't know how, but there's no time to wait. They made a graveyard—there are already too many gravestones. I don't want there to be any more."

He kept his wing draped over her shoulder. Her smell was different now, but his was familiar. "You've done some amazing things already, Amie. I may not understand what's happening, but I trust that you can find a way through it. Somehow."

She leaned her head against his neck, resting in the familiar warmth. She would find none of this softness among other bugs. Their shells were hard, and not particularly warm. "But you should sleep, Tailslide. You're exhausted, I can feel it."

He lifted his wing, then straightened. "When are you going to your camp?"

"Soon," she admitted. "Tomorrow, probably. Or the next day."

"Tell me when. I want to go with you." He left, wandering over to the bed. Amie wanted to join him, but she couldn't. Instead, she went off to find a candle.

That meant returning to her room—or Wes's room, or the toxic dumping ground for green goo. It had to wear a lot of hats right now. She changed back into her changeling self in the hall. This late at night, there wasn't much danger of being discovered. Tailslide's smell probably wouldn't stick to a shell as well as fur.

There were so many changelings inside that they were practically their own little hive at this point. Her campers were back, along with the three orange bugs. Only her brother was missing, though the shut bedroom door revealed where he had probably gone. Amie would have to ask him what it felt like to sleep on that weird goo.

Rick and Beth both sat by the table, with a half-dozen glass jars between them. These were pony glass taken right from the kitchen, so Amie could clearly see the slightly greenish liquid within.

"Councilor Amie!" Beth was the first one on her hooves, trotting across the room to her and embracing her with one hoof. "We thought you might stay in there all night."

She patted Beth gently on the back, the same way she'd done for many other students many times before. "And you did some excellent work for the Rent-a-Friend. Both of you, I hear."

"Yeah." Beth let go, then looked away. "But this was my last day of the contract. Dawnwind's company is moving her up to Motherlode for a few months. I'm sure we'll be back home by then." She paused, for just a few seconds. "You have hair?"

Amie nodded. "That isn't the only change, but I guess it's hard to miss. I'll tell you about it later."

"Pachu'a already did," Rick added. He stood up, but didn't approach her for a hug. He was too old to admit he wanted one. "You're a nymph now, right? You'll be a queen in the future."

"Do you think anyone else will change too? I'd like hair again. Or... maybe feathers. Feathers are wasted on birds." Beth changed in a little flash of green magic, leaving a hippogriff in her place. Almost the form Amie had taught, but not quite. She was a little younger and smaller, closer to the human girl underneath. "Oh, this came for you too! Your boss gave it to me when he paid me a few days ago, so I assume... Rick and I decided not to open it. Knew you'd be back soon enough to decide for yourself."

She held up an envelope in one claw, offering it to Amie.

Amie took the letter, then turned it over. "I... didn't tell her where to send this. I was going to write her first."

It was addressed to the Rent-a-Friend, though it named Rain Fly and not the company. I don't like this. Ivy Path's name was on the return address, along with the address she'd given Amie. So she was safely in Canterlot, doing whatever it was that her father wanted from her. And more importantly, hunting for Amie's portal spell.

Amie tucked the letter away under one wing, to a palpable wave of disappointment from the assembled bugs. She wanted to know what Ivy Path had written as much as anypony else. But there were other problems to solve, more urgently. She would have to survive her attempt to retake the camp before she could try to send its campers home.

Instead she opened another drawer, and came up with a candle and a lighter. "I'll have to catch up with you both in a bit. The others up in Stella Lacus are waiting to hear from me."

"You can use my tablet if you want," Rick said, pointing. "Signal's stable. We can send encrypted messages directly to Marcus. We... don't know for sure that Albrecht didn't lock him in jail and steal the phone, but we know only his phone can answer it."

Amie nodded gratefully, but didn't try to pick up the phone. Instead she went to the couch, now covered with slime as much as anything else. She used a few books to prop up the candle, then lit it in her magic. "It's good that we have that—but I need something faster." And every time I do this, I'm helping heal those kids.

"Your queen is going to farcast," Pachu'a explained. He sat beside the others of his tribe, reading a pony book. It was one of the old “set dressing” titles that stuffed Amie's shelf. A romance, judging by the roses stamped into the cover. "She will be vulnerable to assassination while not in her body. You must protect her with your lives."

"Queen," Beth repeated. "That feels so weird. Do you want us to call you that?"

Amie shook her head once. "He's right about what I'm... becoming."

"We're eusocial insects," Rick said. "There was a whole debate about it in the life science building. They didn't have proof of any kind of dimorphism, even though we've got a lot of evidence about being sterile."

Amie winced, looking back to the flame. The less she knew about where that evidence had come from, the happier she would be. "Put out the fire if something happens," Amie said. "And shove me if that doesn’t work. I'll be focused on Stella Lacus for a while. Maybe until morning."

She didn't even hear what they said next. Her mind was elsewhere.

Maybe it was the physical proximity to Stella Lacus that made it easier for her to reach out and find the minds she was looking for—or maybe it was just that she had already touched the minds before, and healed their rotting bodies.

She really needed to study that book of Queen Kaya's knowledge. She had purchased it at a high price, she might as well get her bits' worth.

She opened Lily's eyes in the Pioneering cabin. The place was packed with bugs, almost every one of the campers they knew. Though there were no formal markings on the floor or physical blockades to separate everypony, the two separate groups were obvious.

The four bugs Amie had healed sat together in almost the exact center of the building. They would've been right in the middle, if there wasn't a table in the way. They didn't move much, didn't talk to each other, just sat there and watched.

Until Amie stood up, and the other three instantly turned to watch her. Amie's presence captured their focus the same as before.

Her kids were too busy with their own activities to notice what she was doing. Mostly they were packing, with plenty of little conversations going about “what they would do” once they escaped. Amie had promised to help them, and soon she would deliver.

Good thing too, these kids needed a little hope. None of them looked healthy, though none were as bad as the kids standing around Lily's body. I need to find every camper as bad as they are and get them fed, soon.

If there was anything to be hopeful about, it was how much Albrecht hated her kids for Amie's escape. They were the last to eat, the last ones thought about in the relief effort. Hopefully that meant the other sections were in better shape.

Amie began the same way as before, by changing. She used a unicorn this time, the same motherly prospector she had used on the train-ride over. Something felt fitting about a body like that, when she had come to see her kids taken care of.

It fit the body's natural instincts perfectly, and made her taller and bigger than anypony in the room. Even a male like Marcus would have to look up to her.

When her form took shape, she did notice one slight discrepancy from the last time—Amie didn't have a belly like this. That probably meant it wasn't some subconscious thing if Lily's body didn't have it.

"Amie's back!" someone called. Conversations died instantly, and bugs swarmed around her.

Not all—plenty of these kids were out hunting last time, and hadn't seen her. They would only have heard about this new ability, not seen a pony in person.

"You said we had a week," Marcus said, the first one to reach her. He seemed to recognize who she was, despite the new body. But who else among these bugs knew how to transform?

"I know." Amie stood still, letting the smaller bugs get close to her. She picked one girl up onto her shoulders, and gave a kid the age of the other three a little hug. It wasn't just the young ones who wanted to be close to her—even the teenagers surrounded her. Some just wanted to touch her.

The sight of it brought hot tears to her face, and threatened to break her voice. She managed to keep calm, though there was no hiding how much this hurt. They would all feel it. "There's been a change, and I wanted to tell you as soon as I could."

"You're not rescuing us?" said the little voice on her shoulder. Kiraline, she was pretty sure. "You didn't come back to tell us that, did you?"

A few nervous mutters passed through the crowd. She could almost see their heartbreak before it formed.

"No," Amie said hastily, before it could build momentum. "You're getting out. Sooner than you thought. I just need to change your preparations."

She faced Marcus, then rested one hoof on his shoulder. "How fast could you be ready to leave? If I needed you out sooner, could you do it?"

He nodded sharply. "We could leave tonight, if you asked. I've brought everyone back who was hunting. Everyone has their stuff here and ready to go."

The saddlebags were all packed, just as he said. Many looked like they were mostly empty. She had given them precise instructions about what to bring. "I need you to dig out the 50 mile gear. Get more bags—enough for everyone. Carry as much camping gear as you can. Shovels, rope, the pioneering poles. Everything you can carry."

More whispers passed through the room. This time they weren't fear or betrayal, but the same groans she got when she asked them to do something hard.

"I don't know if we're strong enough for that, Amie," Marcus said. "These kids are exhausted. Some of them..." He flicked his wing towards a few lingering on the edges of the room. They watched with listless eyes, barely seeing her. "If we have to carry all that, you might get the gear, but you won't get all your campers."

Amie nodded slowly. "I think... I can help with that. Marcus, pick the strongest campers and get moving our crap out of the storage shed. Everyone else... I know how hungry you are. I'm going to help you. I'm starting with the weakest first, but everyone will get their turn."

She cut through the crowd, to the loneliest bug on the edge of the circle, wearing a hoodie smelling like every awful bug excretion she could think of all in one. He was too listless to notice, or care.

It was going to be a long, painful night.

Chapter 59

A bug on the edge of starvation had a feel to them that she would never forget. This was the way starvation manifested in their species. It came with physical withering too, damage to the hardened exoskeleton that never quite healed, and a smell.

Those bugs offered her little resistance, far less than when she first worked with Beth and Rick. Physical proximity seemed to help too, or proximity of vision. Reaching them was easier than trying to see the camp from far away.

"I'm going to help you," she said, not sure if those bugs were even awake enough to see what she was doing in the cabin. "Stay calm, it won't take long. It's going to hurt."

Then it hurt. Sometimes more, sometimes less—but each of them was withered from lack of magic. Amie's perception moved to another body, and power flowed. It was the healing that hurt so badly, making her shudder and sometimes drop to the ground completely. Only this time she wasn't alone in her pain. As the body healed, she felt other thoughts beside her. Her campers were frightened, confused, and just wanted the pain to stop.

She got better at it as the night wore on. With Evan, the first, he was in as much control as she was, and started flailing madly, trying to shake the foreign influence out. Amie didn't blame him—but she didn't yield, either.

I'm healing you! she thought, practically screamed to him. I know it hurts, but it won't take long! Just hold still! Her persuasion did little—but eventually she did finish healing him, and the pain stopped. He stood up, now fully alert, and now completely under her control.

What's happening to me?

Relief overwhelmed her—relief that she wasn't too late. Evan hadn't lost his mind. I found a way to heal bugs from far away. I'm almost done, just one more thing. Pay attention, I'm going to teach you something.

Evan—he was always bragging about wrestling, he would probably make a good earth pony—so Amie made him into one. His own age, with a similar orange and black color-scheme as the jacket he'd been wearing. Amie didn't have time to get particularly creative.

"There," she said, through his voice. "That's one." She crossed the short distance to where the next struggling bug lurked, Danelle. She stared blankly at a Switch propped up in front of her. The screen was blank, battery long dead, but she didn't seem to notice.

Danelle fought as hard as Evan, but Amie expected it that time, so she kept her struggles to a few painful spasms. She too seemed to wake up as she healed, and eventually stopped fighting. Amie left her a unicorn, so she could use magic to play that console when she got it charged up again.

Then came Andre, Joyce, and Sonia. With each move, she left a bug that looked like a pony, a bug who was awake and alert, curious about their new form and also enjoying the attention of the other curious members of the cabin. With each new bug, Amie was better able to take control from her first few seconds. By the time she reached the last of her starving campers, she was able to keep them sitting still until the process was complete.

None of it was free. Amie didn't know how to express glamour in the terms Pachu'a did, but she didn't care. There was no price worth losing more of her bugs. The only real limit to how much she could give was the distance. That seemed to stretch her power, attenuating her glamour until it was a trickle.

It would be far faster if she could be in the cabin with the Pioneering kids—but if she waited that long, some of these might not make it.

As the night wore on, the camp filled up with camping gear, and with ponies. Well—mostly ponies. The campers who were later in line—those least in need of healing, often had their own ideas about what she should make them. That made the process of healing them easier too, since they actively welcomed her presence and wanted her to change them.

Then she came to Marcus, the very last in line. "Beth has been telling me about all the different creatures in Equestria. Could you make me a griffon instead of a horse? The claws and beak seem more useful than what horses have."

A griffon—she had seen only a handful of those during her entire time in Equestria. But it wasn't like the form had to be totally original and perfect. "I think so. Hold still."

Even coming and going with camping gear, Marcus had seen the process enough to know what to expect. He was perfectly cooperative, making for a transformation that took only a few seconds.

Then she was back in Lily's body. She could've used any of the four, but Amie had already decided her plan. She would focus on one patient, and see how long it took to heal her. Then she would know how to divide her resources most efficiently.

"Do you have everything you need?" Amie asked. Lily was still the pegasus she'd left her—the new “worker” hadn't changed back on her own initiative. Could she, even? More to research. "Marcus, did you finish packing?"

"More or less," he said. His voice was different now. While most of the other kids sounded closer to their human selves, Marcus was just another flavor of strange. High, but still masculine somehow. Beaks were weird.

"Why did you want to teach us this?" someone else asked. She was a pegasus now, apparently fascinated by her feathery new wings. "I don't know how we're supposed to make camp think that something isn't happening. Maybe you should've changed us after."

"No..." Amie said. "Because knowing how to go one way means you know how to go back, if you want to. Everyone here should practice switching back and forth—probably a little more once you have food. It uses magic, so actually don't unless you have to." She strode through the crowd of gathered ponies, directly to the table.

The map Marcus had brought was more accurate than anything she had. Her own had to be hand-sketched off a snapshot from a phone screen. This was an original, with all the detail of the ones hanging in Albrecht’s private study.

"You should know where you're going. You should also... not need me to tell you that this is a secret. We aren't abandoning the rest of camp, I'm just getting you all to safety." She pointed on the map with one hoof. Technically it was outside the camp's boundaries, though still well within "their mountain."

"Marcus. This is where you're getting everyone. Not the old hotel, that place is condemned and super unsafe. The mine itself."

Silence descended on the cabin. She felt their eagerness melt away. Most didn't know what she was pointing at, but the few that did radiated disappointment that quickly spread. Even Marcus raised an eyebrow. "The 'authentic gold rush silver mine'?" he asked, speaking slowly. "You want us to hide in a... tourist trap? I assume it's a first stop on the way to getting everyone out. Closer to the pony blockade, so it's faster to leave?"

"Yes," she said. "It's half an hour's walk from the edge, which is..." She had to take a pencil in her mouth, since she didn't have the magic as a pegasus. She had seen these maps a dozen times in Agate Base, so it wasn't hard to make them accurate here. "But it needs to be close enough to camp."

She turned away from the map, facing her bugs. "Everyone—you're the toughest bunch of kids I've ever had. You've made it through things that plenty of adults couldn't. It's not fair what Albrecht put you through, and that ends today. But there's another side to it—we can't leave the rest of Stella Lacus behind. If something doesn't change, all your friends who aren't in this room are going to starve."

"Why should we help?" someone demanded. An earth pony near the front—Amie had already lost track of everyone's new forms. "No one stopped Albrecht from treating us the way he did. No one fought him. I say they deserve him. He's the one they wanted."

Some mutters of agreement passed through the crowd. But they didn't go unopposed.

"Do we have to leave Lisa behind?" asked Danelle. "She works in the greenhouse."

"My little brother is in woodshop, I have to get him!"

"My uncle is still in maintenance, I think he'd want to—"

Amie smacked her hoof down, spreading her wings as big as she could. That silenced the conversation. "Deep breaths, everyone. We're not leaving them behind. Here's the truth—this camp, it's the only little piece of our home we have. We can make it safe, we can make it comfortable, we can make sure there's plenty of food. Once we're safe, we can start looking for a way home."

She pointed at the map again. "That mine—it only has one entrance. If we had to, we could close the whole thing off, and stop Albrecht or someone else from getting us inside. With a little work, we could build comfortable housing for..." everyone in Stella Lacus.

"...everyone here. Marcus, keep everyone together. The first floor has a visitor's center, set up the tents there, as far back from the entrance as possible. When you're inside, I don't want anyone outside to know you're there. We can make more plans when I reach you. Can you all do that?" She looked around the room, focusing briefly on every camper in front of her.

"This won't be easy—but I know you can do it. Stay together, move fast. I should be able to get to you... tomorrow night, that should be enough. Marcus, get everyone into that mine before sunrise."

He saluted. "Can't you come with us? Or... whatever you're doing."

"No. I have to wake up now. The mine is further from me than it is from you."

She turned again, pushing gently through the crowd until she reached the three silent bugs. These “workers” were the only ones who still looked like changelings. "Obey Marcus's instructions. Follow the group when they leave. Stay close, and don't wander. I'm going to heal you too... as soon as I can."

"Can we..." Marcus began. "Amie, could we speak for a minute before you go? In private?"

She nodded, waving him towards her office. The door was open, into what was basically an empty closet at this point. At one point they had used the room for sleeping space, but not anymore. Everyone's sleeping bags were already packed.

She shut the door behind them. How much privacy it would actually give them, she couldn't know.

"You sure about this plan?" Marcus asked, as soon as the door was shut behind them. "Even if Albrecht promised that we could leave, he can't control his goons all the time. Some of them have their own ideas about what should happen to us. They might act on those feelings."

"That's why we're leaving right now. It's earlier than I told Albrecht. It should throw them off."

"Maybe." He closed the distance, so he could whisper directly into her ear. "They'll follow our tracks. If we don't get past the border, they'll find us eventually. It's not about if, it's about when."

She nodded. Amie couldn't know for sure if his goons would really be petty enough to attack children like that. But even if they didn't, she was about to take control of the food supply. They would come. They would bring weapons. They would try to kill her, personally. She'd already felt that rage once.

"I'm going to depose Albrecht," she whispered right back, as quietly as she could. "He's a great administrator, but a shit dictator. This mine—it's somewhere you can all be safe if my plan doesn't work."

"Oh." He grinned. "I should've known you had a plan. I hope you'll let me help."

Amie nodded. "For now, just keep the others safe. You've done a fantastic job so far. It's good to know I have someone I can trust."

He leaned even closer to her, breath hot against her cheek. "You know Amie, camp's over. When the dust settles... you should let me take you out."

"I..." Her cheeks lit up, and both wings opened. I can't tell him now. "Sure. When Stella Lacus is safe. You can take me out. It's a date."

She backed away from him, then opened the door again. The longer she remained, the better his chances of sensing what embarrassed her. Hopefully he just thought she was too shy to admit she was attracted to him.

She changed Lily back, then moved back into the cabin with the others. Many of the campers inside were already wearing saddlebags, or helping others put them on. I'll see you all at the silver mine.

Amie closed Lily's eyes, then opened her own.

Chapter 60

"Was your farcasting productive, Queen Amie?" Natane asked. She was right beside Amie when her eyes opened, as though she'd been reclining there the entire time. Maybe she had been. But were those her eyes watching, or a far mightier creature, far away?

She nodded. Amie was a little out of breath and missing some of her magic. She still didn't know how to measure it exactly—but it felt like less than what she'd gathered from her time with Tailslide. A little love could save quite a few starving bugs, it seemed.

"Very. I can see it's almost morning—grab what you need, everyone, we're leaving as soon as morning comes, and curfew lifts. Take new forms, we'll split up. Change into the miners somewhere near the north exit, we'll meet up there. I don't want anyone tracing us back to this building."

Her instructions were enough for the hunters. Pachu'a stood, heaving the saddlebags up onto his back.

"Everyone?" Rick asked. "You’re saying I can finally get back? With you in charge, instead of Albrecht..."

Amie spread her wings, stopping him. "Soon, I hope. But I need you here. You and Beth—you've learned what ponies are like, and Bud likes you. You need to stay, so you can keep gathering glamour. Store it away like we taught. We'll get shipments going back and forth somehow."

"That seems fun. I hope my next contract is as awesome as the last one. It should be way more enjoyable now that we're not leaking this awful goop all over the place."

"If you're bored, take that goo to the stove and melt it. Heat will change it back to liquid glamour. But store it quickly, or it will boil away in the air." Natane's voice was still strange, confident in a way that drone had never seemed. The queen was still watching her. "This glamour should not go to waste. You could carry it away in chunks, but I suspect the ponies would notice."

Amie hefted the saddlebags onto her own shoulders. "I will arrange to exchange you with someone else in camp, Rick. But right now, we need every hunter we can. Whatever you think about your skill, you know Equestria more than anyone in Camp Stella Lacus."

The bedroom door opened, and Wes emerged, yawning. "Sis? Are you... are you leaving?"

Amie nodded. "Yeah. You can go back to bed. Rick is going to hunt; you can recover from the trip."

He glanced at her saddlebags, then the hunters. Pachu'a changed into a pegasus, then vanished out the open doorway. "Sure about that? What about the supplies I was carrying?"

"I was going to... carry them. Along with all this extra glamour here." But now that she felt the saddlebags she was already holding, she realized how foolish that idea would be. Only an earth pony could carry so much, which would destroy the unicorn family persona she was trying to build.

Then she had another idea. She opened his saddlebags, picked one of the jars, then broke the seal and drank. She felt a brief rush of incredible—pride. She felt the achievement of many ponies, confident in the things they'd done. Then it passed, and the sealed jar was empty. She set it down and moved to the next. "Woah. I expected that to... fill me up a little more."

"You are a queen," Natane said. Her outline flashed, and an earth pony took her place, with drab browns and cream colors. "You could consume all this. Be mindful of your magic in the meantime—it will be easy to waste the power if it is within your body."

Then she left. The other hunter followed her, leaving only Amie's campers to watch as she emptied canister after canister. If they had been real liquid, she might've quickly filled to bursting. She was already swollen enough.

They didn't fill her that way or stretch her body. She just felt more energetic, mind swimming in the pride of so many ponies. The flavor did have a few qualities to it she could learn as she drank so much—athletic, with a hint of ozone. Pegasi?

"She was serious. Counselor, are you sure about that? You're gonna blow up. It's awful when you have too much magic."

"Really awful," Beth agreed. “You see the result, all over the place. I almost couldn't hold it in long enough to get home."

Amie ignored her, and started on the pots, jars, and other containers her two “hunters” had filled. She finished right as the morning bell rang. Somepony shifted in the other room, tumbling out of bed. A few seconds later the other door opened, and Tailslide appeared in the doorway, dressed for work.

"Where are you going, Amie?" he asked. "Are you attacking today? Looks like you're dressed to move."

"Not attacking," she said quickly. "I still don't have a plan for that. I'm gonna start just by getting my ponies to safety, then feeding the starving bugs. I can take over once no one else is dying."

"Right." He strode inside, then wrapped one wing around her. He hugged her, even though she still looked like a gross bug. "You better be telling me the truth. If you lie and get hurt..." He looked away. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

Is it a lie if I don't know myself? Amie shook her head. "I have campers on the move. I'm going to meet them somewhere safe and get a little... base set up. No fighting, promise."

Tailslide let go. "Come back if there is. I'm still a guardspony, and I've been trained to fight changelings. I'll keep you safe."

He backed away, saluted with one wing, then vanished down the hall. Seconds later he opened the balcony door and took off.

"I need to get going myself," Amie said. "The others will be waiting at the gate. I'm not sure the orange changelings are very good at pretending to be ponies for long periods."

Rick rolled his eyes. He was still staring at her belly, apparently waiting for her to pop. She didn't, or feel any more swollen with magic than she had been before. There was definitely more of it inside her, but Natane was right. She could hold vast quantities of the stuff.

"I might... investigate going north," Wes finally said. "There's something waiting up there for me. Whatever I am, I don't want to waste it. There's a way to share it with everyone else—then you won't need hunters."

Amie darted over to him, then gave him a quick hug. It was her turn for a promise. "Don't leave before I get back, okay? If you're going north, I want to go with you—or at least send someone. It's not safe to go alone."

He hugged back, still delirious with exhaustion. "Yeah. I'll talk first. I won't just steal some bits and run. You stay safe too. Even if you aren't fighting—Albrecht is still mad. Keep your head down."

He let go, then wandered back into the bedroom.

"Don't leave us out in the cold next time," Beth said, as soon as the door closed. "If you can't update us on the intranet, then do your... weird magic stuff. Take me over and write a note. I won't mind."

"Hopefully I won't be gone that long," Amie said. "But if something happens, sure. I'll do that." She closed her eyes, then changed into an earth pony. She needed another shape to get away from the building, before she could change back. "Keep your heads down, do whatever job Bud gives you. And if he gives you a list—that's for me, just bring it in here and leave it somewhere for me to find."

Rick lowered himself into a mock bow. "Farewell, Queen Amie. Blessings of the court upon you. Ye, verily."

Beth shoved his shoulder. "You forget the part where she saved our lives?"

Amie didn’t stay to listen. She locked the door behind her, then hurried out the back. One of these days she really had to learn how to fly. Hopefully soon.

Crossing Agate in the morning was a simple task. There were so many workers in the street that she was just another face in the crowd, barely worthy of a passing glance from the ponies in the road. All she needed was a dark corner, and she was True Silver all over again, ready for her first adventure in Motherlode.

By the time she reached the north gate, she found the orange bugs all waiting there, each in disguise as her “children.” She greeted them with familial friendship, and they set off through the gate, bound for Motherlode.

Pachu'a fell into step beside her, though he kept his voice down. "Are you sure about this? We're leaving in the open, on a pony road."

"A pony road that leads directly past the mountain," she said. "Motherlode is a company town—I bet they don't exchange records with Agate. Nopony will know whether we really made it or not. Unless—"

Amie trailed off abruptly. There was a pony walking slowly ahead of them, a pony who noticed their hoof steps and turned back to look. A familiar mare, because they had eaten together the night before.

"Sweetie Drops?" she asked, beaming. The mare was alone, though carrying heavy-looking saddlebags just like Amie and the changelings. Obviously, she wasn't on her way to join a mining town.

"True Silver," said the mare, turning slowly in place to look back at her. "Headed north?"

Amie's “children” froze. Rather than break down with terror, Pachu'a and his apprentice managed to keep relatively neutral expressions. Yet they radiated fear—far more for the little pony ahead of them than they had even shown for the guards.

Natane remained the calmest of the bunch, strangely. Amie felt no emotions from her at all. "Motherlode," Amie said, without missing a beat. "Hard to beat the offers FlimFlam Regional made. I probably won't last the season—but I sent my son on ahead to arrange everything for us."

"Maybe we should go another day, Mother," Pachu'a said, voice low. "You did say you weren't feeling well this morning—"

Amie read the desperation on his face. If he kept looking at Sweetie Drops like that, she would notice too. Why was an experienced hunter so afraid of one pony?

"I'll be fine," she said. I promised my kids I'd be waiting for them at that mine. I'm not breaking my word. "What about you, miss? Returning from royal business, or going?"

"Going," she said, withdrawn.

She was alone, walking out on the same route that they would follow. Potentially all the way in, if this mare intended to walk across the border. Would she really do that without any guards? Maybe she was just on a reconnaissance mission.

"You can keep me company," she said, beaming back at her. "If you don't mind taking it a little slower. My children definitely do. They'll run ahead. But I just don't have the energy for that right now."

Sweetie Drops glanced up at the mountain, then back at Amie. Her eyes lingered on her belly. "You insist on this, Silver? This road may not be safe."

Amie lit up her horn, grinning. "Unsafe is anyone who threatens my children. I'll make them wish they stayed on their mountain."

The earth pony chuckled in response, then started off. "There's not some Apple in that family tree, is there Silver? I've rarely met a pony as stubborn as you are."

The other changelings watched her follow, before trotting to catch up. Amie waved them past with one hoof. "You know the way; you can go on ahead. Shout if you see any monsters!"

They did. Pachu'a was the first, making a decent show of his impatience walking behind her before trotting ahead up the slope. Agate was already falling into the mist behind them. In the same way, the transformed changelings were soon lost to her sight, though she could still hear their hoof steps. Just so long as they didn't start shouting about how stupid she was to get close to a SMILE agent.

Amie made casual conversation with the mare for a time. Some of that was about the mining she would be doing, since she was obviously pursuing it so energetically despite the dangers. Amie filled in the openings in her knowledge with previous visits to the very same tourist trap she was about to turn into a hive. 1800s mining was close enough, or close enough that she never felt suspicion from the mare.

"Your turn is coming soon," Sweetie Drops finally said, tucking her map away into her saddlebag again. "I know you can't see it, but there's a fork about a half mile from here. I trust your children can read the warning signs enough not to go directly into danger."

Chapter 61

"You must be planning to turn the other way," Amie said conversationally. As she spoke, the mist parted on the mountains ahead. It revealed the even grade of the highway, stretching with three lanes in each direction. Aside from a little debris, the highway was in perfect shape.

Without a word exchanged between them, they both stopped walking, staring up the mountain. At this scale, Stella Lacus was relatively hard to see. Its cabins were thoroughly surrounded by the trees, and daytime meant no lights for paths and buildings. Only the little cul-de-sac of real houses owned by some of the camp staff was clearly visible from here, since they all kept clear of nearby trees.

"I probably shouldn't talk about it," the mare said. "You're in enough danger just walking this way. There are so few royal guards to patrol such a large area. We might not know if changelings were loose until it was too late."

She shrugged. "Of course, of course. You don't have to tell me anything. I'm just... wondering aloud. Strange to hear about, stranger to see for myself."

"It continues all the way across the new mountain," Sweetie Drops said. "Unlike anything I've ever seen. Even the Crystal Empire doesn't have highways like that. Nopony knows what they're for, or why the changelings need them." They started walking again, much slower this time. There was a lot to look at, from a pony perspective.

Amie spoke casually, as though she were remarking on something out of mild interest. "The whole mountain looks like someone ripped it out of another world. I bet the road connected with something on either end."

The mare nodded. "That's the theory. An incredible spell, meant to put them right in vulnerable territory. But we're confident they weren’t able to exit the mountain before the guard arrived. For all the reasons I discussed with you—we would know if they got loose."

"Seems like a strange way to attack," Amie said. "Teleporting a whole mountain here is as obvious as you could get. Why wouldn't they limit their magic to one place—a fortress. Or maybe even a group of changelings out in the open, teleporting none of the ground along at all. Then you'd never know where they came from."

Sweetie looked sharply in her direction. For the first time that morning, she was really looking at Amie. She stopped right in the center of the path, eyes intent. "If you're IA, you've really outdone yourself. I didn't know there were spells to fake a pregnancy. Prosthetic, maybe?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Amie said, with absolute confidence. "What's an IA?"

"Internal Affairs," she said. "Insight like that—come on, Silver. Miners can't analyze an invasion."

Amie shrugged, keeping her face impassive. "It's all in plain sight, miss. I don't need to be from the guard to think through what's happening."

The mare patted her shoulder once—or that's what it looked like. Her leg slid down Amie's side when she did it, so she brushed against the edges of her belly. She's looking for a prosthetic. Of course, she found nothing, and soon she relaxed.

"If that's true, you might consider another career," she said. "You're wasted as a miner. But you should wait until the little one grows up, there's a lot of travel."

She didn't have to force a smile this time, she was beaming quite naturally. "You think I should join SMILE? I don't know if I'm cut out for that, miss. I just have some—some ponies I'm looking out for."

The mare nodded back. "Of course, seeing the flaw in another's theory is the easy part. What do you think is actually happening? Before you ask, don't. I can't tell you what I think."

Amie forced a laugh. "I wasn't going to. I'm just surprised you care what I think. Just a mother who knows a thing or two about mining and keeping her kids safe. That's it."

"It's alright if you don't have any ideas," Sweetie responded. "Few ponies do. This mountain is a mystery."

"I didn't say that." Amie slowed, looking up the slope again. She could see the occasional black shape moving in the gloom up there. What she feared to see wasn't black though, but a mixture of vivid colors. If her campers hadn't made it in time, the old hotel and mine entrance were definitely visible from the base of the mountain.

"I know what happened."

The mare was still grinning. "If that's true, I'll put in a recommendation for you myself. The mare who cracked the Motherlode changeling infestation will be a hero."

Infestation. She tried not to let her frustration show. She kept her voice neutral. "They didn't bring a covert group and attack because they aren't an invasion. They don't even want to be here. I think if they knew how, they would already have gone home, and left Equestria in peace."

"Didn't think there were any ponies who still felt that way," Sweetie said. Her voice had changed—instead of sounding impressed, she was patronizing. "Don't forget, changelings can't be peaceful. They're obligate parasites. They have to hunt to survive. We've seen them killing anything they can get their hooves on."

The fork wasn't far ahead. Even with the fog, she could see the dim outlines of three “unicorns” waiting on the road. They lingered on the Motherlode side but didn't continue up the hill. They were still too far away to overhear, if they were trying to talk. But it wouldn’t be long now.

Amie went right along. Even if her voice was casual, her focus was intent, watching the mare's movements and emotions. The other changelings knew the danger much better than she ever could. "But did you wonder why those buildings were so big—why these changelings didn't act the way you expected? Both questions have the same answer: they aren't supposed to be changelings. They weren't changelings, until they got there."

The patronizing feeling vanished. Amie sensed something else in its place—confidence, maybe even a little relief. "So, you are IA? That was Princess Luna's theory, if I recall. You could just be honest about overseeing this mission."

Amie ignored the remark. She was already committed to this path now, there was no going back. "When they got here, they didn't want to invade. They were confused, lost, and terrified. They looked like monsters, suddenly they couldn't eat any of the food they had in storage. They reached out with their technology, but no one answered their radio transmissions, and there were no satellites in orbit. They were on another planet."

Sweetie Drops stopped in her tracks, blocking the path ahead. "Go on then, Silver. Which office are you with? I know everypony in the Canterlot office, so it must be... Manehattan? Of course, it would be Manehattan. If you're going to reprimand me for warning a pregnant mare of the dangers of living here, I'll accept the demerit with pride. It was the right thing to do."

"It was," she agreed. "But don't you want to hear the rest? I'm telling you exactly what happened. It's okay, you can be the one to take credit. I only care about keeping everyone safe."

She felt a flicker of tension from ahead of them—at least one of the bugs was listening. All three outlines were gone from the path ahead. But Sweetie was facing Amie, she couldn't see. She reached into her bag with her magic, shuffling it up towards the top past many sealed jars.

"You've learned more than home office?" she asked, eyeing Amie's belly. "Looking like that? You could never make it onto that mountain and back. A mother's love is one of the strongest things there is—they'd be drawn to you like sharks. Unless it's a spell."

Of course, it wasn't, but Amie didn't respond. "Those buildings up on the mountain—they're part of something called an adventure camp. It's a place for children to go over the summer, to hike and climb and explore out in the mountains. There's no army up there—only helpless, terrified children. They don't want war with Equestria, they just want to go home to their parents."

Now she sensed doubt, and more. The mare's emotions became harder to read the more Amie said. "Not possible. Changelings are monsters—they can't be reasoned with. They don't negotiate, they don't compromise, they don't control their hunger. They don't have children, just bigger and smaller monsters. I've seen them kill when they were half your height. Seen it, True Silver."

"I can prove it," she argued. Amie levitated something out of her bag—her phone. It was already on. She took out her foil-wrapped stylus, using that to navigate to the photo gallery. She moved slightly to one side, closer to the mare, so she could see the screen easily.

Amie took hundreds of photos, sorted into folders by camp cohort. Their parents would want photos to hang on the wall of their brave little adventurers climbing rope bridges and building shelters out in the woods.

She chose the last cohort's folder, the one she hoped was hiding in the mine right now. They might be close enough to see her standing there, if the fog cleared and one decided to poke their head out towards the freeway.

"This is what they looked like before—last group of summer. I always take a photo on the first day, so we see a contrast with when they go home. See how shy they are—new kids always act like that. You can tell who has been to Stella Lacus before from their face."

Sweetie's mouth fell open. She leaned in close, where she had the clearest view of the screen. "Explain what you mean. And tell me who you are—this has gone on long enough."

Amie stuck the phone back into her pack, then cinched it closed. "The changelings who invaded Equestria were led by an evil queen. They traumatized your whole country. Innocent ponies died. But maybe the bugs living on the mountain aren't that way. Maybe they don't want to hurt anyone."

Then she changed. Amie abandoned her pony disguise, returning to the changeling queen she really looked like underneath. In this case, the pony disguise was so close to her real size that the saddlebags didn't even feel loose. She was a little taller than Sweetie Drops, a little leaner, with the angular look of a changeling. Except for the soft underbelly, of course.

"I don't want to hurt you, or anypony else," Amie said. "I don't want to invade, and I don't want a war. I just want to go home."

Amie knew what kind of reaction she would get—she'd known and decided to try anyway. What mare was better placed to accept the truth of her situation than a mare who had already been inside the camp before?

Even she was taken aback by the change. Sweetie Drops had been so friendly before, almost protective of the young mother going into danger with her little family. She had even gathered a little glamour from her that way, the quantity growing as the earth pony got to know her and her feelings grew.

Nothing as powerful as Ivy or Tailslide, of course. Adding a lie between them attenuated the magic just like trying to control a drone at a great distance.

Amie had only once seen aggression like this from a pony, when the royal guards descended from the sky into deadly combat. Sweetie backed off, crouching low. Her ears folded backward; her eyes locked on Amie. There was magic too—with all four hooves on the ground, this earth pony was rooted magically to the spot. If someone shot her, the bullet would probably glance off her coat rather than penetrate.

She still didn't know the limits of pony magic, and what she did know was restricted to unicorns. "This whole time—what did you do with the real True Silver? You must've interrogated her for a long time to know her that well—is she trapped on your mountain right now? She... tried to move to Motherlode, just like you pretended. And you captured her on the border."

Amie shook her head vigorously. She was only about a meter from the mare. Too close, given the power an earth pony could probably manifest. If Sweetie Drops attacked her, she might kill her.

Chapter 62

"I've never captured a pony," Amie said flatly. "I've never attacked one, and I've never hurt one. I don't want to start now."

As she said it, dark shapes emerged from the fog all around them—three orange changelings, fully revealed. They'd ditched the saddlebags somewhere too, so their fins stood high and alert on their backs. Otherwise, their stance was much the same—aggressive, ready to break into deadly combat in an instant.

"Queen—I told you; she was too dangerous. She was going to see through your illusion in time. Now we have to deal with her."

Amie spread both wings, yelling in frustration. "You won't touch her! Back off!" She moved forward, putting herself between the changelings and this new mare. "No one is hurting anyone!"

The truth of that statement was disproven so fast Amie barely even realized what was happening. Something smacked into her from the side, tackling her to the ground and pressing up against her neck. Her heavy saddlebags protected her from some of the impact, but there was no protection around her neck.

A hoof pressed down there, hard as iron. "No one moves, or your queen dies!" the mare yelled, she was on top of Amie now, holding her with both forelegs. The force was irresistible.

Amie could barely see anything—the cloudy sky above, and her other eye pressed into the dirt.

"I should do it anyway," the mare whispered. "We never caught the other queen—those changelings will be back. But if you die, then the mountain can't threaten Equestria for long. It won't matter if your warriors kill me."

Amie struggled to speak. The mare pressed so hard against her throat that she could barely manage words. "Could..." Amie said. "I don't... think you will."

"Won't I?" Sweetie’s voice rose to a yell. "I mean it, all of you stay back!" Then she leaned down, pressing close to Amie. "How many ponies are dead because of you? How many murders?"

"None," she said. "You said... knew we hadn't escaped... because no one was vanishing. I've been... months. We weren't trapped."

The grip on her neck eased—not a lot, but enough for her to breathe again. "Order them to back off," the mare said.

"Do what she says!" Amie yelled; her voice hoarse. "Back away. Don't do anything unless she tries to kill me." Amie couldn't see what they were doing, she couldn't even use her powers to look. These bugs belonged to another queen; their eyes were forever closed to her.

But something must've changed, because Sweetie Drops lifted her leg completely. "Sit up. If you make any sudden moves, I might kill you. I might anyway."

Amie did, moving as slow as she dared. The orange bugs were about fifty feet away now. Pachu'a had a weapon on one of his forelegs, a bit of metal tied with cloth. The other hunter had a bow, though it now sat on the ground in front of her, undrawn. Natane was unarmed, and more relaxed than the other two. Her eyes were calculating, fear replaced by curiosity.

"When a poisonous snake bites a pony, it's not the snake's fault that it bites," Sweetie Drops said, voice low. "We still have to cut off its head, so no more innocent foals will die. How is this different?"

Amie kept her wings folded. She thought about changing back—Sweetie Drops's inherent disgust was not making negotiation easy. But if she did, the mare would probably interpret that as another attack, and respond with lethal violence. She couldn't risk it.

"A snake is ruled by instincts. If put in a similar situation, it will bite again. It will kill again."

The other mare still had her teeth bared. "You have killed before. A royal gaurdsmare was attacked, another received deadly injuries. He was so psychologically damaged he was discharged from the Royal Guard. That's just the attack we know about."

Amie met her eyes. "Equestria didn't send us diplomats—they didn't even post warning signs of where you decided we weren't allowed to go. When the guards attacked, they didn't land and ask us to leave. They killed two of us without provocation. Was it wrong to defend ourselves?"

The mare scoffed. "They would never do that! Ponies don't attack and kill without warning, we're not like you."

Amie puffed out her chest, meeting the mare's anger. "I was there! I cowered for my life while they murdered two people. When the fight was over, there were two dead bugs, one dead guardsmare, and one pegasus bleeding to death. I stitched Tailslide back together. I carried him to Motherlode to get medical treatment. If you don't believe me, ask him yourself. He works at Irongate Foundry in Agate."

A little of Sweetie's confidence faltered. There was still anger, enough to kill Amie if something provoked it. But a little of that mountain of hostility was wearing down. "What are you trying to accomplish, changeling queen? This deception is pointless. I should drag you back to Canterlot in irons, let you face royal judgment."

"My name isn't 'changeling queen'. It's Amie Blythe. I'm from Florence, Oregon, United States of America, Earth. My parents were Louise and Greg Blythe. I'm not supposed to be a monster. The bugs up on that mountain aren't supposed to be monsters either."

Sweetie's eyes kept flicking back to the changelings around them, then down at her. "You sure about that?"

She nodded. "You attacked me. Wouldn't you defend your friends if somepony attacked them? I never touched you. We were alone in that dining car for hours. We were alone on the walk up here, far from the sight or listening ears of Agate's guards. There was never an ambush. I just wanted to talk to you."

She dared to stand, moving slow enough that she could freeze if the mare showed any signs of aggression. But nothing happened, and Sweetie Drops let her do it. "There are two possible futures ahead of us, Sweetie Drops. Equestria can peacefully accept us, or they can attack like Path wants to do."

"We'll win," the mare said, without hesitation. "I'm sure he has attack plans drafted already, waiting for royal approval."

"Probably," Amie agreed. "And you could kill me right now. But if you do that, you'll show the bugs on that mountain that ponies aren't reasonable creatures. You'll show them that you don't understand negotiation, compromise, or friendship. When you want to take the mountain, ponies will die who could've gone home to their families. When you take the mountain, you'll kill hundreds and hundreds of helpless foals who just wanted to go home to their parents. Is that what you want?"

The mare backed away from her—not towards the mountain, but back the way they'd come. She took a few tentative steps, eyes wide. "If that's true, order them not to follow. Swear I can leave in peace."

"Don't follow her," Amie ordered, loudly. "This mare will not be harmed. I will react to any evil done to her as evil done to me." She glowered at the three strange bugs, teeth bared.

Then she turned back. "Someone has to stop this, Sweetie Drops. When words fail, violence is the only option left. I don't want that to happen. Please, help me."

"Stay on your mountain!" the mare shouted, exasperated. "We aren't the ones forcing this."

Amie shook her head once. "Lock yourself in your house and starve to death? That's not possible. But no ponies need to suffer for my mountain not to die. We can all live."

But the mare wasn't listening anymore. She turned on her heels and galloped off into the mist, leaving Amie bruised and beaten in the dirt.

"What a spectacular failure," Natane said, the first to break the long silence. She advanced slowly, followed by the other two hunters. "I've seen incredible bravery from queens in my time, but rare indeed is it joined by such incredible foolhardiness. Are you honestly trying to negotiate with ponies? Look where it got you."

Natane gestured at Amie's bruised neck. The shell there had cracked, and blue blood seeped out from inside. It already ached, and it would be worse tomorrow.

"Ponies are uncivilized barbarians," Pachu'a agreed. "When their society is homogeneous and they control all aspects of their own lives, they seem enlightened and friendly. Present even the slightest difference to them, and they stampede, trampling any threat down into the dirt. You can't reason with them, Queen Amie."

Amie stared back into the mist. She couldn't see Sweetie Drops anymore, but she could still hear her galloping hooves, echoing off the mountains. "I don't think I failed. She could've killed me, and she didn't. She listened to me. She saw what my kids really look like."

Natane laughed. "You informed her that her security methods had failed. I can tell you what that pony is thinking—she is plotting a way to detect your hunters in their population. You will not achieve peace; you will only make your swarm hungrier. Every new piece of information you share will only be used against you. You should abandon this path before it destroys you, Amie. The next pony you confront may be less cowardly. They may decide to simply kill you and be done."

Amie kept her mouth shut after that. The queen was probably right—Sweetie Drops now knew that her kind were loose. Instead of using the overconfident metric of murders to judge a city's safety, she would poke around. Maybe she would find the Rent-a-Friend.

Or maybe she would listen to what Amie had to say, and realize she was telling the truth. Ponies aren't barbarians. They're just afraid. We can make this work.

"That's my problem to solve," Amie said. "It's one you don't have to, Natane. Your home is safe, mine is exposed. If I don't make peace with Equestria, they will wipe us out. We can't win a war with a whole country."

"I am no queen," Pachu'a said. "But if I were you, I would be organizing my bugs to go to ground and separate. Spread out, then reconvene somewhere safe. You will give up the resources in your camp, but not be here when the invasion comes."

And leave the place empty for you and your hunters to loot, I'm sure, Amie thought. She resisted the urge to spit that into his face. He had still come with her on a humanitarian mission, risking his life to bring food to the hungry.

"That isn't the problem to solve today," she said, gesturing ahead. "We need to get into cover. That agent might run to the army and tell them the queen is in the open. Let's not be."

She changed again. Still a unicorn, since she might need the magic, though this one had a green coat and a lighter green mane, hopefully harder to see from above. Biological camouflage was better than nothing, if the fog ever broke.

It took only a moment for the changelings to recover their saddlebags. Each one changed, into a random smattering of other creatures. Pachu'a chose a griffon this time, while his apprentice was an earth pony, and Natane also made herself a unicorn.

So much for the fake identity. All the time investing into making True Silver seem real was wasted—one of the most dangerous ponies in Equestria now knew she was a fake.

Entirely my own fault. Maybe the bugs are right. I was stupid to trust her.

They reached the fork in the path, then passed the sign warning of extreme danger and death by changeling if they went the wrong way. "No rescue will be attempted." Had ponies tried climbing the mountain? They wouldn't like what they found if they did.

It wasn't much further to the highway. The asphalt was hard and uncomfortable on pony hooves, so Amie walked in the dirt alongside, imagining the roar of cars passing her up the I-5. Only in her mind, unfortunately. There were no vehicles rushing to her rescue.

No one would save Camp Stella Lacus, except her.

Chapter 63

Amie found the old mine exactly where she expected, beside a huge painted sign just off the highway. A huge hotel blocked the cliffside from view at first, its paint faded and windows covered with boards. A half-dozen cars sat in the lot, mostly rusting old hulks. A few were modern, covered with the dust of months. Interesting.

"Why are we stopping here?" Pachu'a asked, hurrying to catch up with her. "Your camp is further."

"It is," she agreed. "But we're stopping here, for now. I'll be going up in a bit." She did not sound very confident as she spoke—because of course she had no idea what might be waiting inside. She ignored the hotel, continuing towards the wooden building flush with the cleared cliffside.

This one would've looked at home in Agate or Motherlode—sun-bleached wood, with peeling paint at the edges and the occasional pipework running up the side. "What does the writing say?" Natane asked. "It is not the pony tongue, or ours.

"Experience a real-life silver mine," she read. "Ride a minecart, explore over a hundred miles of authentic tunnels and search for treasure. Ages 12 and up." She looked away. "It's lying, though. The part you can 'explore' is the top floor. And the minecart ride gets really boring after a few times around."

The hunters slowed, sharing a confused look. At least Natane was keeping up with her. "Do you intend to stockpile the glamour here, Amie? It will do no good to your bugs if they can't eat it."

"No," she answered. "I'm going to deliver it to the starving, and make the healthy come here to get it. I can't build a hive in the open. But the mine—it only has one entrance."

She lingered by the door, resting one hoof up against it. If something bad had happened to her kids and they hadn't made it...

Then she heard something from inside. Quiet, yet clear. A guitar, and voices. "May... she will stay, resting in my arms again."

Relief flooded her, and Amie shoved the door open. "These are the bugs I trust most," she said. "They'll help me build the hive." She flung the door open, into the lobby of a tourist trap. There were various tee-shirts and stuffed toys, and plenty of other knick-knacks for the curious tourist. Only the snack shelves were looted, everything else was basically untouched.

Light glowed from the distance, past a little ticket booth and metal turnstile labeled "Museum."

Natane was the first to follow her inside, levitating up a stuffed doll of a bearded prospector. "May I keep this? You have plenty."

Despite the failure of her negotiation, despite the fear, Amie was grinning again. "It's yours."

She ducked under the turnstile, then rounded the corner. Past several mining displays, past an entire cabin recreated in the building that claimed it was "the original foreman's cabin" complete with glass cases of old-timey garbage.

The glow of a propane camp lantern lit a huge stone cavern beyond. What it had been in the days of mining, Amie didn't know—but now it was the queue for the minecart ride. Or it had been. The metal racks were all pushed to the side, stacked over each other.

Her bugs had arranged their tents in the other corner, forming a little "L" against the wall with a circle of chairs, boxes, and cushions in the center. There was the camp light, and a griffon with a guitar.

Not everyone was around him—but a lot of them were. Including the four “workers,” watching with energy and fascination Amie had never seen from them before.

"Someone's here!" a bug yelled, appearing from the hall just behind them. They'd been hiding in the cabin display—but apparently not paying enough attention to warn the bugs inside. "Who are you?"

Marcus stopped strumming the guitar, then looked up. When he did, the workers all stopped watching. They stood up, marching slowly through the crowd without another word. "I don't think anyone else would know where to find us," he said. "Relax, Conner. Peyton, don't point the bow at them."

Amie focused her magic and banished her disguise. "It's me, Amie," she said. "I know I look different than you remember. It's a long story."

Her kids packed in close, with all the energy of her remote visits and more. She looked a little different, and she was definitely bigger. Nobody cared. The little ones each wanted a hug, bombarding her with rushed explanations of how brave they'd been, or repeating the same question in everyone's mind. When were they getting home?

"One day," was all she could say. She gave each one a few seconds of attention, knowing they would all need more. Even the visibly composed teenagers still wanted validation. They had endured terrible things, and still did what she said. But now that Amie was here, she could make sure it happened.

"I'm proud of you, I'm proud of all of you," she said, a little louder. "First thing's first. Everyone eats."

Amie could've given them something from the supplies they were carrying. They had four packs worth, enough to feed the whole camp for a short time. But somehow, feeding them that way didn't feel right. These bugs were the closest to her, the ones who had suffered for their attachment to her. They would also be the most trustworthy.

Amie gave each of them glamour herself, using a little wax and a tin cup. There was a slow, ritual way she did it, biting through the wax to fill it with what felt like the right amount, then floating it over to each kid.

They were hungry, and not exactly feeling patient. But they all waited.

Then she was done, and no bug was hungry anymore. They were full.

"You have fed one group," Pachu'a said, a few minutes after she had finished her task, and then sat in conversation with Marcus. "But there are many others who need what we brought. We cannot stay forever; duty calls my apprentice and I to journey elsewhere. But I would fail in my duty if I cannot witness that the relief we brought was given to those who require it."

Amie nodded her agreement. "I apologize to keep you waiting. I have good reason for not starting right away. Once I start distributing the food myself, Albrecht will know exactly what I'm planning. He may attack immediately, or he might send someone to negotiate with me and demand the food. Either way, he won't be getting it, so we had to be prepared. Natane is staying—if you have to leave, maybe she can be the one to witness for you. I know Queen Kaya sometimes watches through her eyes. Would her witness be good enough?"

Pachu'a tensed, glancing nervously away from her. “Good enough” was obviously not the kind of comparison that he was comfortable using with his queen. "Of course, no one would question the honored Queen's words. And I don't mean to say that I doubt you either, Queen Amie. But much of these supplies were donated by the citizens of Sonoma, they weren't taken from a storehouse somewhere. They want to know that their wealth is saving lives."

"Then you will have to wait a little longer," Amie said flatly. "I have had some time to think about how to pull the trigger on this—but there are still some things to prepare."

She stood up, suddenly towering over the room. Many of her kids were still in the pony shapes she'd given them. A handful had decided to change back on their own, but most were not. She remembered that feeling well, a first taste of being normal after so long as a freaky monster.

"Some of you already guessed this—but I'm taking over Stella Lacus. Anyone who wants to help me—you should know how dangerous it might be. If we win, I'm going to change it so we can survive the winter. No one will go hungry, and there won't be any more graveyards. And I can't promise it—but I have a lead on getting home. Once the food situation is secure, once we're safe from invasion, that's next.

"But if I lose—Albrecht’s goons are going to hate you more than they ever did. He might banish you; he might hurt you in the same way he hurts me. You're all... too young for this. You shouldn't have to make a decision like this. But since this is the awful world we're stuck in, this is the choice you have. Join me and help take Camp Stella Lacus, or you can hide. Say you kept your loyalty to the camp. I'll create a fake... jail, or something, and you can stay in there until the fighting is over. If Albrecht wins, you tell him that I locked you up for resisting me. I'll take all the blame."

Her words faded, leaving a painful silence in the queue. Bugs and ponies and other things all looked to each other, waiting for someone to speak first. Even Marcus wasn't brave enough to be the one. But someone was—Danelle.

"If Albrecht wins—camp won't change, will it? We'll keep on barely surviving. When there's no more animals, and no more food comes in from the outside, everyone will starve. I'll go back to feeling... nothing."

Amie nodded once. "Yes. Albrecht doesn't understand Equestria. He doesn't know how to gather food. When he gets desperate enough to send out hunters, Equestria will kill them. If any bugs survive, it will be because our friends in Sonoma, these bugs here, have sent help."

"Which we won't get," someone else said. "Because Albrecht didn't share with us to start with. He was gonna let us starve either way."

There were a few mutters of agreement. Then Marcus spoke. "I'm sure every camper in this room trusts you to lead, Amie. We want to help. But what do you expect us to do? Running away is one thing—do you want us to fight Stella Lacus? Will we have to shoot people? I don't think I could do that."

More agreement. But what was she expecting—these were children. Amie didn't want to kill anyone, so they definitely didn't. "I will not ask you to," she said. "We can't be mad at Stella Lacus for what Albrecht did. The other cabins, the other counselors—they were just doing what they had to not to starve. You don't have to fight them. You don't have to fight Albrecht and his soldiers either."

She strode slowly past the gathered bugs, until she was directly beside the propane lamp. But even on its lowest setting, that propane tank would only last a few days. "Anyone who wants to help me won't be fighting. The bravest of you may be going into Equestria to gather food, or back to camp when I think it's safe enough to help others who want to join us or bring back supplies.

"But most of you will be right here. This mine—it's going to be our safe haven. Underground we'll be protected from the cold, from Equestrian invasion, from Albrecht’s soldiers. There is a well under our hooves, if we can get it working again. There is enough space to make a comfortable place for everyone to live. All of Stella Lacus could live down here if we needed to..."

Though if they did, she would need to consult an actual engineer about exchanging fresh air with the surface. A dozen or two people in such a huge space was one thing, but a thousand would probably suffocate.

"Any bug willing to fight on my side, stand by me. Everyone else, by that minecart over there. I won't judge you, I won't be mad at you, and I will still make sure you're cared for if you don't want to help. But I need to know what side you're on."

The worker bugs moved first. Lily, Scott, and the rest, crossed the room almost as a unit. Strange that they were aware enough to understand her general meaning and know when it was time. Then Marcus stepped towards her. A few others did... then came the flood.

She felt their fear, their nervous excitement. A few were hesitant. They didn't want to tell her, but they didn't think she would win. Those followed only because of the shame they would feel if they looked afraid in front of their peers. Amie would have to give those bugs the easiest and safest jobs, knowing they wouldn't remain strong under pressure.

But in the end, everyone joined her. Only the three orange bugs watched from afar, expressions unreadable.

"I'm glad to have you," Amie finally said. "I'm going to pick a few team captains for each job. For now, there are three: one team to help lock up the front, one team to investigate the well, and one team to start building our permanent camp. Let's go with... Marcus, Danelle, and Sydney. I'm going to put the strongest people on the blocking team... I only need a few of you to look into the well, and the rest are building camp."

She separated them, keeping those with the weakest loyalty on the camp job. Eventually they were all in their groups. She sent the workers with the security team, expecting them to do well moving heavy objects. That left Amie alone in the queue line, except for three orange bugs.

"You have experience in leadership," Natane said, approaching Amie slowly. "I see your noble mother trained you well to form your own swarm. Whether that will be sufficient to overcome your other personal failings—we will see."

Amie's wings buzzed—and she forced them to her sides. "Humanity has changed since your ancestors were taken to Equestria, Queen Kaya. Some of those changes are for the better. We're not so quick to violence as we used to be. We realize that there are other ways to solve our problems."

"Or perhaps you've become cowardly and weak," Kaya said. She made no pretense to being Natane anymore, circling slowly around Amie like a hungry shark. "I do not wish to see your swarm suffer and die. But they might, if you hide from necessary action. Remember, the sun is also a warrior."

Chapter 64

Amie studied. Noise echoed through the old mine all around her—bugs shouting to each other, depositing heavy loads, and sometimes singing as they worked. When she had first returned to their cabin, Amie found creatures that were overwhelmed and desperate. Not anymore. She had given them purpose.

While they worked, she poured over the book that had cost her a spy. It was written in the same language as the Equestrian writing, which meant Amie could read it. She still did not know why—nor had she even thought about it, until the orange bugs asked her to translate a road sign. There were depths to this magic accident that she did not understand. Maybe no one did.

She wanted to read and memorize the whole thing—but in the end, she kept at it for only a few hours more. Farcasting had already become one of her most valuable tools—she would rely on it again to complete this transfer of power. With a tool this versatile, perhaps she could prevent bloodshed.

She studied until her bugs reported that the sun had gone down outside, and darkness descended. Work continued in the mine with little disruption, since they weren't relying on natural light to begin with. She would have to trust the campers she had delegated to complete their tasks with skill. It was time to save some lives.

She made a spot for herself beside where the propane lamp had been. There she arranged a few sleeping bags for a cushion and settled a candle in front of herself. The orange bugs gathered nearby, watching with annoyance.

"She's doing it again," Si'tsi groaned. "Queen, when are we gonna get out there and feed bugs? These were bad enough, there must be more."

"Many more," Amie agreed. She didn't look up from her perch. "Marcus told me how bad the hospital has gotten. When they start starving, Albrecht brings them in so the nurses can keep them clean and comfortable. But it's a hospice more than a hospital. That's where I'm going to start."

"But not by going yourself?" Natane asked. Whether it was her or the queen, Amie couldn’t tell yet. These three orange bugs had seen enough of Amie's weaknesses that they no longer feared her the way they first had. Maybe they thought she wouldn't fight at all. They would find that impression mistaken. "You could bring much more food that way. If you need to heal any of your workers yourself, you could do so rapidly."

Amie shook her head. She kept her eyes focused on the flame, letting her mind begin to relax. "If I controlled Stella Lacus, I would. But I do not. I must feed the hungry and take the first steps towards unseating a dictator in the same move. Albrecht will not give me very many before he reacts."

"Please hurry," Pachu'a said. He shrugged off his heavy saddlebags. He had clearly realized she had no intention to leave. "We must witness the productive use of this offered wealth. We must bring our witness back to Sonoma that you have done as we require."

It was much harder to find the place Amie was looking for this time, even with the assistance of her research and the candle's gentle flame. The kids she was trying to reach had no lifetime of sympathy to tie them together. She had not known them nearly as well as her campers. If she was still halfway across Equestria, Amie did not think she could've made contact to begin with. But she was close, and she was persistent. Eventually her desperate pressure against the barrier of distance and time finally yielded.

Pain overwhelmed her, as she once again took on a body near the edge of death. There were others nearby, but this barely living bug was easier to reach. There was barely any life in the body to share it with. That truth had a second benefit: no one was fighting to take back control. She didn't scream and thrash about, trying to dislodge her invisible rider.

She was used to the pain by now, and barely felt it anymore. She could endure more pain, to keep these bugs alive.

She opened one eye, holding as still as she could. Her shell was now covered with a layer of cloudy chitin, ready to crumble off her body. But she didn't want to move too much yet, she had to see. She had to know.

When Camp Stella Lacus was running properly, the “hospital” was more of a clinic, with six patient beds and two private rooms for longer stays. Amie couldn't imagine how the hospital could possibly hold all the starving bugs. She saw the answer at once: she wasn't in the hospital.

Instead, Amie saw the vaulted ceiling of the multipurpose room, with the shiny basketball floor underneath. She felt a camp cot under her, and a few thin blankets. The smell of alcohol and antiseptic were thick in the air, but they couldn't come anywhere close to covering up the rot. Bugs had died here.

She lifted her head, just enough to look to one side.

There was no division here, no hospital rooms. Amie was in about the middle of a line of many resting bugs, one on each side of a huge space made with temporary office barricades. There must be at least fifty campers in this section. Most were young, but some were big enough that they hung sideways off the camp beds. Adults were not immune to this awful starvation.

She didn't see any nurses, though she could hear movement somewhere distant. Were there more sections exactly like this?

Amie didn't know this bug's name, though she could feel it was a boy this time. Worse, she couldn't feel any sign of the changeling’s thoughts. This bug was already too far gone. Another “worker.” Another of many, if the room was any guide.

But if she did nothing at all, these bugs would never wake up.

Amie remained in bed, focusing on the creature beside her. Now that she could see, the process was far easier. Her mind drifted, and she was in agony all over again.

Another almost-starving camper turned into a worker, but at least they were alive. If they survived Equestria, she could find a way to save them. But they would have to last long enough.

This was nothing new to her now. Amie healed them, moving down the line and up the other. Each one took several minutes of pain, so much that it all blurred together into a red smear. At least she would have plenty of practice being in pain when those eggs arrived.

Time was meaningless to her, measured only by the number of eyes that watched whatever body she was in. As before, they seemed to feel her intentions, enough that the crowd remained in their beds while she worked. There was very little noise to mark Amie's efforts, except the occasional shifting back and forth in an uncomfortable cot.

Then someone appeared near the edge, shining a flashlight into the hospital. A small voice spoke into a walkie-talkie. "Nurse Sobol? I think you should get down here."

Amie fell still, listening. She was ready to move again—about a third of these bugs still needed treatment. But if she started healing any others, she wouldn't be able to see what happened around her. The potential risks were unacceptable.

"Did we lose another?" Sobol's voice came over the radio, sounding like she was near to collapse herself. "May God have mercy."

"No," said the kid. They darted between rows of beds, shining a light into some of their faces. "I'm seeing... looks like they've started shedding? And... they're watching me? Some of them are."

"Oh. I'll be down in a few minutes. Don't touch anything."

Amie didn't have much time. They were already attracting attention. Nurse Sobol might be first, but she wouldn't be the only one. She would probably call Albrecht, and there was no telling what he would do.

Amie jumped to the next sick camper, another hopeless case just like the rest. When her eyes worked again, she found Sobol still wasn't there, and her little assistant was watching from the entrance, occasionally flicking a light inside.

She wasn't going to finish in time. Of the remaining handful of bugs, she felt resistance from only one—one she recognized. She had a sewn-together wig on her head, something she'd stitched herself. That was Mona, crafts councilor. One of Amie's friends—but until the Transit, Amie had been friends with most of Stella Lacus's counselors. There was nothing particularly unique about the relationship.

She jumped again.

What's going on? The voice was faint, weaker than any of her own campers she had to heal. This bug wasn't strong enough to resist her much, or maybe she was just worn down so far that she didn't really care to try.

Relax, this won't take long. It better not, given the hoof steps she heard coming closer to them.

Amie? If she was just a voice, the speaker couldn't possibly have known what she was hearing. But the contact between them went much deeper than mere sound. Mona would feel Amie's presence, just as she heard her thoughts. Are you an angel? Or... must be the other place. Make it stop!

She didn't make it stop. She could only hope the girl would sense the confidence of her resolve. Healing hurts! But it won't take long, just hold still.

"This one is definitely moving." Something flashed into one eye, at the same moment as Amie felt metal up against her chest. Scraps of shed chitin came away at the contact, crumbling around the woman's hooves. Then the pain was over.

This is weird. I can't move.

Amie sat up. Sobol jumped back, swearing loudly to herself. Then she spoke, clutching at her heart as though it were going to give out. "Mona? Can you hear me?"

Amie's eyes settled on one of the nearby bugs, one of the few adults she had managed to heal. At least she would feel slightly less guilty if something awful happened. I healed you, but it won't stop you from starving again. She focused, and used their body instead.

Then she moved. She sat up, then hopped out of bed.

Sobol dropped her clipboard. Her assistant actually screamed.

"I wish I could've come back sooner," she said, in someone else's voice. "But if I had, I wouldn't be able to help them. I'm sorry."

The assistant froze, too afraid to move.

"I can... think," Mona muttered. Her voice was so small, lacking any of Amie's confidence. She spoke anyway. "How?"

"How," Sobol repeated, staring at her. "What's going on, Miss... I'm afraid I forget your name. There are so many sick. You shouldn't be on your feet. You were dying."

"If we stay here, we will still die." Amie gestured, and every other bug she had healed sat up. "Leave this building as quickly as you can. Follow the dirt road to the freeway, then continue south. Wait for me at the old hotel."

The poor little nurse's assistant covered her face in terror, screaming hysterically. None of the workers said a word, of course. They shed their blankets. As one, their wings began to beat, spreading bits and pieces of shredded chitin. Then they took off. They flew, soaring over the divider and straight for the door.

I can't even do that. Amie watched them go, envious. Whatever instinct governed the way worker bugs behaved; it was a powerful one. They could fly.

Amie remained, along with a petrified Sobol, and a confused Mona.

"What is happening?" Sobol demanded, moving closer to her. She could see—or maybe sense—that Amie was the nexus of all this. She wasn't wrong. "What did you do?"

Amie was not about to be intimidated—nor did she have any hostility for this poor woman. Her cheeks were sunken, her black coat cloudy underneath a simple white medical gown tailored for her body. She had given so much to keep these kids alive, and never surrendered.

"I have the cure, Sobol. But it is much better if I can administer it to them before they go completely comatose. The bugs who become... listless, unfocused, sluggish. I'm sure you've realized the symptoms by now."

The nurse nodded, waving at the dividing wall to her left. "Over there. Albrecht ordered any showing signs... moved in here. When they don't have work duty, they last longer. There's still no treatment. They won't eat and giving it intravenously doesn't seem to help. They're already dead."

"Amie?" Mona asked no one in particular, looking around the room. "I heard her before. She was in here. I think she woke me up somehow."

"The murderer?" To her credit, the little nurse's assistant hadn't run away, though from the smell she may've wet herself in her terror. Amie couldn't exactly blame her, not with dozens of dying all getting up at exactly the same moment.

"That's what the Director says," Mona muttered.

"Come back!" Sobol shouted. The first patients had just now reached the door. Someone opened the metal panic-bar, while the others filed out in two perfect rows.

"They won't," Amie said flatly. "I can help them. And by leaving now, they will help me help the others." She took one step past Nurse Sobol, towards the end of the row. "You said the other patients were this way? I have to treat them soon, before they lose their minds."

Chapter 65

Amie stood from her makeshift ritual chamber, surrounded by watchful bugs. By then some had distracted themselves with other tasks or wandered off completely. But not all—the orange bugs remained, along with a handful of the smaller ones. Most of them had been given other assignments at one point or another—but Amie wasn’t going to get upset over it.

These bugs were too young and small to contribute much to whatever tasks she’d given, those were always about making them feel useful. If they would rather be around her, she could live with that. Even if it would leave her wondering whether or not they were motivated by some unseen instinct.

It was Pachu'a who approached first, less fearful than the others. Or maybe he was just more driven by his mission. “Queen Amie, is it time for us to complete our task? We are still heavily laden with glamour and know that the struggling bugs are starving still.”

“You personally, yes. I believe I’ve created an opening for you.” She pulled him aside, leaving the watching bugs to look up in silent protest. But secret plans necessarily required information about them not spread, even through the bugs who were loyal and friendly.

“The camp has a large medical facility in the multipurpose building—it’s the biggest building in camp, with the skylights and walkways on top. You can look inside, make sure it’s safe, then get in and distribute glamour. The ones inside are the sickest and weakest. Most of them haven’t suffered the…” There was a word for it in the book, one that Amie hadn’t learned in her quick reading. She was focused more on preventing it than studying a failure state.

“Souldeath,” he supplied, eyes downcast. “But how can that be? If there were many bedridden, there should be just as many who suffered worse. You said there were dead.”

“There were. I revived them, and they are coming here. That is… the source of our opportunity. I’m pretty sure every soldier in camp is following them right now, to my gates. Slip out now, feed the starving. If you have glamour left, ask them about their friends who are in bad shape, and give away the rest.”

Pachu'a watched her in silence for what felt like a long time—mainly because she knew there was a tiny army marching on her while they stood there. Every second she waited was another they got closer. “I am relieved to confirm that you do not wish to hoard the wealth we brought,” he eventually said. “But this seems strange. You reject Albrecht’s authority; you say I should not use him to distribute the food. Why ask me to hide in dark corners, when you are the true queen?”

At least this time she had an answer. She had to send him on his way and prepare for the confrontation to come. “Because I don’t want any more of my campers to… soul-death? If you don’t think you can handle it, then I won’t ask. I’m not asking you to put yourself at risk. I just thought—with the soldiers elsewhere, we had a golden opportunity. We both want to help them.”

Finally, the hunter nodded. “This is not what my queen expected when she sent me here. It seems as though you wish for me to be complicit in your revolution.”

She shrugged. “A bloodless revolution, I hope. Where I come from, we don’t just kill people we disagree with. We have to work out our differences. Aggressively, maybe. But I don’t think anyone has to die here.”

He left the queue behind, and Amie to her audience of two remaining orange bugs, and many children. “You two.” She picked two of the most reliable she knew, then pointed. “Tell everyone that we’re about to be in danger. I want everyone to retreat back to the mine. We don’t have weapons, so there’s no point being up there to fight. I’m going to face this alone.”

She left, with a trail of nervous muttering bugs behind her. They hadn’t even been in the mine a single night, and already danger was finding them.

It was Natane who chased her down, following her all the way into the gift shop before she stopped her by her shoulder. It was clearly not the little drone’s voice who spoke, even if her pitch never changed. “Remember what I told you about the value of your own life, nymph. You are already forgetting the lesson. You have workers that can serve for this task, use one of them.”

She slowed down—partially because of the equipment and debris that now clogged the walkway. Marcus was dragging in junk from all over to block the entrance tunnel. It didn’t look like they would be making an attempt to hold the gift shop. Not that there was a reason to—Stella Lacus had already looted anything of real value months ago.

“Those workers have lives too. If one of them dies while I’m using them, that’s someone I took to preserve myself.”

Natane reacted so swiftly she was unprepared to defend herself. The bug slammed her up against the wood, smashing her shoulder up into Amie’s neck. She was a little smaller than Amie, but had much better leverage, with three of her legs braced against the floor. Amie could only try in vain to push her away with one and ended up just flopping back and forth.

For a few seconds she held her there in silence. Voices of bugs still working echoed in either direction. A few fell suddenly silent—did they sense her distress from that distance? The attack was so unexpected that Amie couldn’t react, just struggled like a trapped animal as the air fled from her lungs and her head started to spin.

“Listen to me, nymph. The homeworld sounds like a wonderful place—home of our noble ancestors, illustrious and honorable. They must live in comfort and joy, beyond the pain of hunger or fear of violence. But you aren’t there anymore. Your virtue is going to get you killed. If I were another queen, you would be dead several times over by now.”

She gasped for air, pushing out with her forelegs—in vain. It just wasn’t enough to lift the drone off her. “Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown, Amie. It is a terrible burden you bear. You must spend the resources before you—food, water, land, and lives. If you choose not to, you damn them all to starvation. It is already happening; they are already dying. So, tell me, is the life of one worker worth the death of all your changelings? If you can answer yes, then you are unfit to be a queen.”

She let go, in the exact instant that bugs emerged from around the corner. It was Marcus, with a flashlight headlamp on his face. He stared at the two of them—Natane unmoving and innocent, Amie panting with vain, struggling breaths. “Is something wrong?”

“I do not know,” Natane said. Though from the lack of any fear or discomfort at her position, Amie had a good idea about who was still in control.

“No,” Amie said. “I just…” She looked sidelong at her spy, then back to him. The price of Kaya’s knowledge seemed to be increasing by the day. “I wanted to warn you that we will be receiving guests soon. How is our new security door coming along?”

He sighed. “In the short term I just made it as inconvenient as possible to get in. With more time, we’re going to bolt some metal plates into the rock. If things get bad, we’ll use dynamite to collapse the gift shop over the entrance and block ourselves in. I can’t do all that in an evening.”

She patted him once on the shoulder. Her voice sounded a little raspy from her brief strangulation. If she tried to move too quickly, she might collapse. “That’s fine. Pull everyone back inside the tunnel. Be ready to clog it full of whatever you can find if you get my signal.”

“Clog it full of…” He trailed off. “Amie? Has Albrecht come to attack us already?”

She turned her back on him. Before, she planned on being the one to stand out there and face their bullets. But Kaya was right. If she died now, everyone did. The crown would be heavy, but she had to wear it.

She wore it quietly, safe inside a locked supply-room identical to so many others. If this was a proper siege, maybe she would do more to lock herself in. But if Albrecht’s men stormed the mine, it was already too late. What happened to Amie after they started killing her kids was no concern of hers, no matter what Kaya said.

She found the bug she was looking for, thanks to her long familiarity with her. Lily seemed to get a little bigger and stronger with every visit. The process of taking her over was quicker too. Maybe that meant she would wake up soon, healed of her brief death. She would probably have a hundred campers in her condition, when the numbers were known.

She had been helping carry something for Marcus’s team. Amie finished bringing it to the designated spot, then set it down, and stepped out of line. Then she changed. She used a unicorn body this time, one as much like her changeling shape as she could. She made her coat black and her mane soft green, about the same length and style. She copied her height, and everything else she could manage.

The one thing she didn’t give the fake pony was a cutie mark. She was not trying to impersonate one of them today.

It took only a few seconds to come up with a new body now—like her other powers, they grew easier with each use. And it was enough that the rushing campers stopped asking her to get back into line. Only Marcus remained, waving everyone deeper into the underground. “Amie again?”

She nodded once, then stepped confidently forward. She had to look confident, anyway. She knew what was coming.

She emerged into the early morning, watching the first light of dawn crest the horizon in a faint orange and purple line. It was in that light that the future of her camp would be decided, and all the humans marooned in Equestria. If they even had a future, it would be because of this moment.

At first, she saw nothing different—they had made no changes to the exterior and didn’t plan to. It should look to any pony patrol in the sky like nothing had happened here, and nothing was different. But then, those patrols might notice the group of bugs flying her way.

She hadn’t taught them this—she couldn’t even do it herself. But if there was one small benefit to the dominance of instinct and the failure of the conscious mind, it was here. The workers could fly,with the same apparent ease that she could run. Without that advantage, Albrecht’s men might be able to stop them, and keep them trapped. It would be one last, ultimate insult to the bugs he had failed the most.

But they were coming. A strange noise echoed down the road ahead, one she recognized only out of old memory. It was a camp jeep, burning some of the rare and precious fuel to get here. The car wasn’t going to beat the flying bugs, but only because the mountain road was winding before it reached the freeway, and the workers could cut directly to her.

They landed one by one in the parking lot, turning into a dense crowd in a few seconds. They were big and small, though mostly small. Only a handful of strong adults had ended up in this sorry group. “Stay with me,” she told them. “I might need your help.”

She could talk all she wanted about a bloodless transfer of power here in camp—but one way or another, it was time for Albrecht’s rule to end. Her ideals would mean nothing if all her bugs died.

An old jeep swerved into the parking lot, just short of the crowd. The driver’s seat was raised, with mechanical extensions to the pedals to let a nonhuman drive.

Six bugs scrambled out, more than the number of seats. But considering all that extra space, she could hardly be surprised.

They were all armed, with the same shotguns once used in shooting class. They had been modified just like the car, removing the trigger-guard entirely, and with a much larger safety switch. Then there were stabilizing straps, probably meant to wrap around a hoof when aimed.

“You should not be here!” one of them shouted, stepping forward. Amie knew his voice—this was Armando, former head of security at camp. He was almost as old as Albrecht himself, before the Transit changed them all. Now he was vigorous and healthy. And angry. “Whatever you did—it’s time to turn around. Return to your cabins, campers. It’s not safe to leave, the natives will kill you.”

“Don’t think they’re trying to run,” said another bug, gesturing into the center of the crowd. Right at Amie. “She can transform. That’s her, the murderer. Amie Blythe.”

Chapter 66

Weapons clattered against each other, jostling on their straps as several of the assembled guards pointed them in her direction. She was surrounded by workers, so there would be no clear shots. Even so, she kept her attention sharply focused on their emotions. If one of them was about to pull a trigger on her, she needed to know.

“We don’t know that,” said Armando, frustrated. “We’ve seen some of her campers copy her now. You can’t just shoot someone.”

Would you be okay with killing me if you could? she wondered. Armando had always been a subdued, practical man. He wasn’t supposed to run the secret police—mostly he made sure older teenagers didn’t sneak off to do things together in the night.

“I am Amie Blythe,” she said, speaking clearly. “You probably shouldn’t try to shoot me. I just want to talk.”

“Bullshit!” one of the soldiers shouted. All six of them had uniforms now, olive green fabric with a US flag patch on one shoulder, and the camp patch on the other, along with their name in block letters. “You’re a killer! Garcia and the rest of his team—you killed them!”

Amie bared her teeth. The gesture didn’t make a lot of sense with a pony mouth, and the flat teeth within. But some instincts went deeper than any transformation. “I’ve never killed anyone, Brown.” She gestured, and the crowd parted for her. She cleared the distance between them in a few steps, so there were no obstructions between her and Brown’s weapons.

He had been a camper before, she was fairly sure. He had less discipline than those who were already working security. But Albrecht gave him a gun anyway.

“You’re not a killer, but you’re a kidnapper?” Armando asked. “What are all these campers doing here? They should be in the hospital.”

“Step forward slowly,” Brown said, gesturing with the gun. “You’re under arrest. For murder, treason, kidnapping, disloyalty…”

Her hooves remained planted. Physically, she hoped she looked confident, relaxed. But a faint glow remained on her horn, a spell held ready for his reaction. Or any of the other soldiers, for that matter. “Mr. Armando, you’ve seen what happened to Stella Lacus in the last few months. Do you think it would still be standing without the last shipment of food I sent?”

“I said back up, bitch! Move now!”

Amie spoke in a low whisper. She didn’t need to make sound at all for these bugs to hear and obey. But she wanted the soldiers to know too. “Surround them,” she said. “If they attack, kill them.”

Her little swarm of rescued insects moved as one. They parted in the center, surrounding the truck and the six-armed soldiers. It didn’t matter how big or small they were, they reacted. The bugs crouched low, flaring their wings and baring their fangs. Fangs they would use to rip Albrecht’s soldiers limb from limb.

“Not sure what she’s doing,” Armando said, just as quietly. “But I think you ought to lower your gun, son. If you want to walk out of this.”

“We can’t! I…” Fear gripped these soldiers, stronger than any anger with her. After all this time waving guns around and intimidating children, they’d never been threatened before. But workers didn’t feel fear. They could aim their shotguns directly into the crowd. They could attack, fire both rounds—but they would be dead before they could reload.

The others seemed to realize that, but Brown didn’t. She felt his thoughts, the growing desperation to resolve.

Amie jerked the gun forward out of his grip, tearing through the straps in the same moment. She levitated it there, up against his neck, just out of reach. If any of the guards even knew how their levitation worked, it wasn’t strong enough to stop her. “I don’t want anyone to die today, Brown! Don’t you think the graveyard is big enough?”

The sun drifted slowly upward, blinding the bugs all around her. Pony eyes were better suited to the day, so she was already comfortable. She positioned herself so these guards would have their faces to the east—one more weapon against them.

Brown didn’t piss himself, but he broke just as completely, dropping to the ground and covering his face with both forelegs. Amie pulled the gun back, then tossed it violently through the air, where it clattered up against the mine entrance. “We have real enemies out there, assholes! Equestria is ruled by immortal demigods! They have the power of an industrial nation and its army to slaughter every child in our camp! Is that what you want? You came to bicker over control of a few cabins while the sword of Damocles droops lower!”

She shouted so loudly that even her own bugs cowered back. Amie wasn’t trying to conceal her emotions anymore—she wanted them to feel every inch of it. Let them know her certainty.

“You can’t be her,” Mr. Armando whispered. He was the first to speak, and one of the few who didn’t visibly recoil in her presence. “Amie was a sweetheart. She comforted the homesick kids and taught them to tie sticks together into a shelter. Who are you?”

There were tears now too, she felt the moisture on her face. She kept screaming anyway, louder and braver than before. “I’m the Amie you and Albrecht and Princess Celestia and Lord Commander Path created! I’m the one who keeps these bugs from starving. I’m the one who will negotiate peace with Equestria one day. And I’m the one who demands the beatings, intimidation, and threatening ends today. Now.”

“You think you can fight all of us?” someone asked. Daniels, from the patch on her breast. “You think these bugs will keep doing what you want after we shoot you?”

Amie opened new eyes from beside her and changed. These bodies held so little magic, but they were also much closer to her. She could give them power here, far easier than reaching thousands of miles into camp.

She changed into the unicorn with a flash of magic, forcing confidence she did not really feel. “I’m not even here, Daniels.”

More fear from the guards, much stronger this time. A few looked towards the car, planning to sprint away. Amie ordered a few bugs to concentrate between them, blocking off that escape. Meanwhile, she stepped forward, using the new body this time. “I went into Equestria. I learned what we really are. I learned how to use our powers.”

Only Mr. Armando was brave enough to speak now. “So, you did kidnap them. All these campers—you’re controlling them, somehow.”

Kinda. “No. Albrecht’s incompetence killed them before I could even get here. I’ve restored their bodies, but their minds will be much harder. It may take years to restore them all. Unless you shotgun them first.”

Mr. Armando tossed his gun onto the floor between them, facing her. “Alright, Amie. We’re your hostages. Now what?”

“Just like that?” Another soldier—Amie couldn’t read her badge in the gloom. “We’re not going to fight back?”

“We aren’t,” he said. “She has fifty hostages and more.”

One by one, the other soldiers tossed down their weapons as well. Because of course—they weren’t soldiers. Albrecht didn’t even have a single real police officer in his staff. These were older campers, maintenance people, one was the camp’s old mail carrier! This wasn’t bravery, it was obedience.

“Give me your radio,” Amie commanded. “Now.”

He slipped it out of his jacket, then offered it to her in his mouth. She levitated it into the air in front of her, turning the dials until she found the general PA channel. Unlucky for Albrecht, she still knew how everything worked.

“Attention campers of Stella Lacus. I have returned with food. Any who want some should come to the old mine at the base of the highway. Each cabin should take the names of those too weak to come, along with their cabin number, so I can have food brought.

“There is room here for any bugs who want to live here with me. Any who do will be fed first with future shipments I bring. I am also taking volunteers of campers who are brave enough to go back with me into Equestria to gather food.

“You may ignore any instructions from the camp soldiers. I have six of them held here, that should only leave a few. If any campers are harmed, I will reciprocate that harm on these hostages, then punish the guilty party personally.

“The martial law is over. The starvation is over. It’s time to remember what it means to be human.”

She lowered the radio, twisting the dial again to the administrative channel. She couldn’t know for sure if her message had even reached yet, not until she got her reaction.

“You’re taking over the camp,” someone muttered. She didn’t even see who it was, or care. “After all this time. Albrecht was right. You were plotting to take over.”

She sighed. But there was no sense denying it anymore. This moment was exactly the coup they claimed it was, no matter what she wanted to call it. “I didn’t want to when I left,” she said instead. “But Albrecht couldn’t figure out how to run this place without any campers dying. I’ve been elected to take his place.”

“By whom?” Mr. Armando asked, indignant. “Your campers held an election, did they? That gives you the right to overturn everything Albrecht has tried to build. Winter is coming, Amie. The rivers will freeze, the game will flee. The fish have already been caught almost to extinction. What will we eat? What if the electrical systems fail? What will you do when the blizzards last for days and the batteries drain? Albrecht is a much older, more experienced administrator than you are.”

“By that magic of our new home,” she said flatly. “We’re changelings—eusocial insects. Equestria decided it was going to make me the queen—so here I am, saving my changelings one bug at a time. And about all that other stuff…”

She waved one hoof dismissively through the air. “I’d like Albrecht to keep doing it. I’m not trying to be a dictator. We’ll need the skills of every bug in Stella Lacus to survive against Equestria. That includes him, and you.”

The radio hissed, then another voice spoke from the other end. “Armando come in.” Albrecht himself. “Please God, tell me that PA message was a hack or something, over.”

She lifted the radio up again, then pressed the key. “Hello, Mr. Albrecht. This is Amie Blythe. I’ve got your men here, safe.”

“Prove it,” came the response, with a burst of furious emotion. She didn’t need any magic to read the anger in his voice, of course. Few bugs even had the food to get that energetic about anything.

She held the radio out towards Armando, keeping it in her magic. “Tell him. Make it the truth, please.”

The stallion eyed her, then lifted one hoof high enough to press the transmit button. “She used strange new magic against us, Albrecht. I’ve never seen anything like it. She could be anywhere, anyone. She could be right behind you for all I know.”

There was a longer silence this time. She could only imagine his rage, as he realized more than half his soldiers were now hostages. He’d chosen to run his camp with a small number of police he closely controlled—now he paid the price.

Amie took the radio back. “I meant what I said in that message,” she said. “And what I told you last time we spoke. I’m not leaving Stella Lacus to die. I’m coming back to fix it, right now.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” came the furious response. “You’re just a child! You have no idea what it takes to choose who lives and who dies! How many more of these children will never see their homes again, because you buried them?”

“None,” she replied, utterly confident. “You never fed them Mr. Albrecht. I’m the only one who ever did.”

Silence. She wasn’t even sure if he was still listening anymore. With a radio, she had no way to know. “I respect what you’ve accomplished holding things together as long as you have. But with you or without you, I’m reorganizing the camp starting today. You’ve got three choices. Either you can try to kill me with the soldiers you have left, you can run, or you can work with me to try and get these campers through winter. I hope you’ll choose the last option.”

She switched off the transmit button, then settled the radio into the small of her back. “As for you all—it’s the same offer. I’m going to hold you a little while, but that’s all. I don’t want to hurt you. Why don’t you come with me?”

Chapter 67

Amie watched from the gift shop as the first groups of hungry campers arrived.

It was late afternoon by the time the first procession finally appeared. These were not bugs who had prepared for a long trip or were used to traveling far while hunting. What she saw were the ordinary campers of Stella Lacus, many exhausted after going so far. And these were just the bugs at the front. Even if she couldn’t see them physically, she could imagine many more behind them, scattered up and down the freeway.

She was not alone in the gift shop. Marcus had joined her, now that the immediate steps they could follow to barricade the burrow were over. There was no chance they would get a vault door over the entrance in a few more hours. Amie hated to gamble—that maybe Albrecht would come up with some eleventh-hour strike against her.

Amie’s true body was still hidden away and would remain that way until the initial danger had passed. Even if the director didn’t try anything, there was still a chance one of his last few remaining soldiers would. Pachu'a had not returned from his trip and had no radio to send messages.

“You took no lives,” said Natane, joining Amie from behind. She had told all bugs to remain inside the sheltered section, except the orange ones with their relief supplies. Amie still held her portion, or what was left of it after healing so many. She could think of few better ways to spend those resources than saving many lives. “Yet you took prisoners. Those who came were not prepared to fight?”

She closed the blinds, tail whipping violently back and forth behind her. Maybe she shouldn’t have lied to Tailslide. She would feel a lot better with at least one pony around that she could trust. Having someone to relieve a little of her tension wouldn’t be so bad either. Her real body was not getting any less desperate for affection when locked in a room.

“One of them attacked me, but I was faster. The others realized I had them outmatched. They saw the weakest campers in Stella Lacus and thought they were a helpless crowd, instead of potential warriors. No one had to die.”

“No?” she repeated, voice mocking. “So now you have captured prisoners willing to strike against you, whispering discord and disunity to your ranks. They will be free to gather a following of like-minded bugs, then move against you when you are least expecting it.”

Marcus glanced at Natane, then back to Amie. He whispered, though in the close quarters of course they would all hear. “You brought someone back to lecture you?”

“I expected slightly less lecturing,” Amie admitted. “But yes. She is wise, and I appreciate any wisdom she has to share with me. You will treat her with the respect of a visiting dignitary. And I know you didn’t get any last time, but she’s the one to thank for both shipments of food.”

The color drained from Marcus’s face. He bowed awkwardly to the orange bug, then backed away. “I think I should be… back by the door. Sorry, Amie.” He darted off.

The first bugs made it into the parking lot. She waved for the orange bugs to stay in place, supplies and all. “I don’t want you out in the open. I’ll bring them in here, and you can feed them. Remember there’s a thousand bugs here, so be conservative.”

Si'tsi grunted in response. She had perched up on a counter of stuffed toys, posing in the fluffiest of the bunch. Native animals, wolves and deer mostly. It would’ve been cute if Amie wasn’t so tense. “If you say so. I can tell you’re not gonna break your promise. Not that I thought you were. Green, not blue. It isn’t your fault your colors look the same when it’s dark.”

Amie emerged in the parking lot. She was still playing the black unicorn with a green coat, tall and mature as she had learned ponies could look. Even the older campers would be longing for their parents by now, even if they never admitted it.

She wanted to make sure the orange tribe didn’t have their emissaries murdered. It only took a few seconds with the new arrivals to tell that they had no intention of violence. They came from cabins all across camp. In a few seconds of conversation, Amie gathered what they had come for. These bugs were the bravest. They wanted to see if she would really do what she said. If they never came back—their friends would know.

She made sure they were all fed. She sent them in one at a time, that way she could speak to the others about any bugs who were getting weak and lethargic, or having trouble speaking. She took down each cabin and description where a camper like that was staying.

“I need you all to listen to me,” she told them, as soon as they were all fed. “Your friends who get like that—it is very important that whenever this happens, you tell me immediately. If I get them treatment, I can stop them from going comatose and ending up in the multipurpose room. Once that happens, they might never wake up. But catch it first, and we can save them. Do you understand?”

She got many nods. Full bugs were more willing to listen, and more attentive to her. A few had even stolen plush toys from the gift shop, tucking them under wings or legs. She pretended not to notice. “You could give us more food,” someone suggested. “If it’s so important, you shouldn’t just take their names. You should feed them now.”

“I will feed them tonight,” she promised. “Find out if there are more and get word to me. You can tell your counselors I’m using frequency 31.”

Despite the urgency of the situation, none of those bugs had come. At least—none came in the first wave. As she sent away the first group, another, larger group broke from the trees. Almost as though they’d been waiting there the entire time, to see what she would do. Only this one had over a hundred bugs, led by many of Amie’s colleagues. The ones who weren’t brave enough to stand up to Albrecht.

No, she had to tell herself. Some of them are barely more than kids themselves. We’re not old enough to fight a tyrant. They were just helping the way they knew how.

Most of these bugs carried nothing—but a few had backpacks. “Everyone line up by cabin!” she called, as they approached. “Like we’re having an assembly. I don’t want too many bugs inside at once. We’ll take it slow.”

Mona approached from the crowd, disregarding the instructions. Her own group was with her now, though not following just behind. She didn’t have a yellow sash like the other counselors. Because of course they had replaced her after she “died.”

“You woke me up,” Mona said. “But now you’re taking over Stella Lacus. Is that it? Albrecht was right all along?”

She shrugged her wings—or tried. Amie was a unicorn, so didn’t have them right then. She almost transformed to get them back but resisted the urge. The fear she felt from these desperate bugs did not need more fuel. “I have powers he doesn’t. I’m going to use them to feed Stella Lacus. There’s no time to prove my innocence or turn myself in and wait for his decision. We need food now. We’re just lucky that changelings can go awhile with little to eat, or it would already be too late.”

It was already too late for dozens of bugs. By the time power was fully in her hooves, it would probably be too late for another dozen more at least who slipped through the cracks.

Mona moved closer to her, whispering into her ear. “Albrecht did it on purpose. He rationed the food you brought to last months. He was protecting older kids, and adults. This was triage, to preserve the camp as long as possible. No one wanted to do it, but no one could come up with another option. There was so little.”

Amie’s stomach twisted in her gut. It didn’t help that she was hungry all over again, the gnawing that came from wanting something physical. No wonder the orange tribe kept at least a little food all the time—queens needed it. Or at least her body did, for reasons that could not possibly be egg related.

“If survival costs our humanity, we shouldn’t survive. We’re better than that, Mona. And I think you are, too. You were in that hospital; you gave your food away.”

It wasn’t a question. The bug started to weep, strangled. “I couldn’t watch it happen. Not to my girls. They didn’t ask for this.”

Amie patted her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll protect you.”

The next few hours went like the ones that came before. Amie waved bugs through in groups. A few arrived with hostility churning away in their guts, mostly other counselors. Amie kept their cabins back, calling the others up enough for them to see that she was serious. They could hate her if they wanted, but Amie would see them fed.

Another two dozen or so bugs asked to stay with her, and she sent them on to Marcus further inside. Some were volunteers, others were helpless. Most were horrifyingly weak, even the volunteers.

Mona’s whole cabin decided to stay, along with the nerds and geeks from the robotics cabin. Many of them seemed to already know about her magic, from bits and pieces whispered by Amie’s own messages.

It was dark by the time the traffic stopped flowing, and the last bug vanished from the road. She left a drone with instructions to watch and report, then finally retreated back inside.

“How much is left?” she asked Si'tsi, who was at that moment gathering up and sorting metal containers.

“Without knowing what my master has left? I have half of what I carried. All of what Natane brought is gone. And then there is the sum that you ingested.”

“I couldn’t tell you in Drachma, but I think I used about a third of it to heal all those bugs and feed my campers. Or are you going to complain that restoring workers doesn’t count as a proper use of your donation?”

Si'tsi stiffened, flipped her satchel closed, then hopped down off the counter. “No, queen of another tribe. You are a creature of honor, and I was wrong to suspect otherwise.”

She nodded. “And are you a creature of courage? I have an assignment for you, if you are bold enough. If you aren’t, I can give it to your teacher on his return.”

The bug puffed out her chest, spreading both wings. “I am the bravest hunter in all of Sonoma!”

A few minutes later, she vanished into the night, carrying a single jar of glamour, and a list of the cabins with bugs who would soon suffer the “souldeath.”

It was mere minutes later before a drone sprinted down the tunnel, calling in a wordless screech. Amie hadn’t even made it to the propane lamp to see how her bugs were doing inside, but she made it back out. Just in time to see Pachu'a enter the parking lot, leading another dozen or so bugs behind him. From the sorry smell, she could infer his mission was a success.

“I saw my student flying overhead,” he said, the first to step into the gift shop. “You did not goad her into risks, did you?”

“No. Just more humanitarian relief. What happened up there?”

“We did,” someone said. She didn’t recognize them, though from their age they were clearly an adult. Wait, was that—the network nerd guy! She should remember his name.

“This bug said you sent him to feed us. And we all heard the radio… seemed like joining up with the girl with food made sense. God knows Albrecht didn’t need me anymore, unless I was setting up a tracker to figure out where you were hiding. Idiot.”
Amie waved them inside with one leg, beaming. “You’re all welcome here. We need all the help we can get.”

Chapter 68

"Did we do good, Amie?" Danelle asked, standing in water up to her knees. But this deep underground, every surface was gently warm, kept at a constant temperature by the planet's own heat.

Amie nudged the rocky tunnel, shoving as hard as she could. The wall held, and nothing tumbled down to crush them alive. She settled her leg back down a second later, relieved. "Fantastic, Danelle," she said.

Little remained of the ancient well, save for a few flat stones used to mark the edge. The cavern behind her was now partially choked with debris, all remnants of what her team of excavators had removed. That left a pond of clear water filling the tunnel beyond, along with several deeper floors of the mine.

"Piping the water up from down here won't be easy, but that isn't your job. I have something else for you." She gestured with her wing, then left the well behind. Water was a good start, if they could solve all the associated maintenance questions to get it up to where bugs needed it.

"Anything." Danelle trailed behind her, through the hallway to where the rest of her team was waiting. Half a dozen bugs stood there, covered in dirt and slime from many hours of hard work. "We've got a good group here, Amie. We've been hungry and helpless for so long—lots of bugs just want a chance to help."

Amie stopped at the front of the line, looking between them. She approached the first bug in order, the youngest she dared assign a tough job like this. "What about you, Neil? What do you think of the mine?"

He adjusted his electric headlamp, avoiding her eyes. "I, uh... thought it would be scarier. But the tunnels are big. Lots of room. And the rock is... safe."

The others all nodded their agreement. We wouldn't be the first ones to decide that. Sonoma was mostly underground. Maybe it's instinct.

"I'm glad. Your next job... It's very important. We have to prepare the safest room in our... camp. I saw a good place on my way in, down this way."

She led them back towards the central passage, with its old-fashioned mechanical elevator. But she didn't go all the way, instead turning to a narrow corridor. Amie had no headlamp, but lit her horn to illuminate the path, shining with green light. It reflected off damp rock, brighter than any of their flashlights.

"Are you sure this is the way?" Danelle asked, soon catching up with her. "There's only one thing this way. It's not—"

They emerged from the tunnel into a huge natural cavern. Water reflected off damp walls, dribbling into unseen streams and parts unknown. Living limestone formations grew here, with a prominent bridal veil covering the nearest wall. Its shimmering quartz caught her magical light, reflecting it into the whole vaulted space.

Amie's voice echoed when she spoke, carrying to unknown stretches of the cave. "It's not the mine, I know. It's more important." She focused, illuminating her horn a little brighter. "The place we're building has to be close to water, and hard to reach for an attacker. This is the perfect combination."

"I don't wanna live in a cave," one kid said. Amie didn't know which—they were one of her recent additions. Not from her group. "It's huge. All kinds of stuff could be hiding."

Danelle was a little more tactful. Even if she didn't admit her hesitation outright, Amie felt it radiating from her. "What would we want to build down here in a cave?"

"The nursery." Amie walked slowly through the huge room, until she reached a section where it narrowed, finally terminating in a single passage stretching upward. A slight breeze lifted her mane from behind, continuing up that path. Did it go all the way to the surface? "First thing's first. Collect all the rubble, scrap, and debris you can find, and dump it here, where the tunnel is barely wide enough to crawl through. I want you to stuff it so full that a bug can't even crawl. When you're done, I'll get someone down here with cement."

Danelle saluted. "Sure, Amie. We can do that. Do you really think the youngest campers will want to live here? Making rooms on top seems better."

"Live, no," she said. "But they might work with me. I have a feeling we'll have lots of work to do here soon." She shifted on her hooves, adjusting to be more comfortable. The unicorn body she'd chosen for herself carried no eggs within, of course. But part of her still felt them, even when she used another bug as her eyes.

"You know what you're doing. Just don't make any of my team live down here when we finish. The others shouldn't get to live in real rooms while we use a cave." Danelle gestured back the way they'd come. "Let's get the gear in here!" A few bugs scurried off to obey.

Amie lingered a few seconds more. "I promise. You just... take care of this bug when I'm not using her anymore. Don't push her too hard."

She didn't have to wait for a response—if she couldn't trust Danelle, she wouldn't have put her in charge in the first place.

Amie released the “worker,” returning to her own body. Many floors of solid rock were no harder to penetrate with her magical senses than open air, so the process was almost instant. Suddenly she was reclining on her side, surrounded by old sleeping bags.

The chamber was dark and mostly-empty, aside from an oil lantern burning slowly away at its oil.

Amie stood, shaking herself out. Her belly bulged out to either side, growing far faster than either human or horse ever ought to. She couldn't so much as stand up without a reminder of just how alien she had become.

What happens if we find some way to get home, and I walk through like this? Maybe I should stay behind and get all the eggs out first.

Yet the further she considered it, the more disturbing its implications. Would she leave them behind, let her young starve? Or worse, destroy them before they hatched? Her mind rebelled at the thought, dredging up old instincts that were only partially new.

There was no safe way to consider that question without twisting down to the path of madness. She levitated the lantern up, high enough to check on the locked door. The latch was still firmly settled, and no new notes had appeared underneath.

There was one before her, taking a place of prominence on the only other piece of furniture in the room: a desk stolen from the office upstairs. Along with growing ledgers and inventory, the desk held a letter, already open.

Ivy and the Rent-a-Friend felt like a lifetime ago, when everything was simple. If only Albrect was the one to turn into their queen, she might still be doing that job, focusing on her simple responsibilities and the growing, genuine friendship that followed.

She had kept the message short and obscure, obviously worried about other hooves intercepting the letter before Amie could get it. It hadn't felt tampered with when she opened it, but there was no knowing that for sure.

"Amie,

I have something big. Come to canterlot and we can talk about it. Turns out Equestria has experimented with magic looking at other worlds before. We can go talk to her together and see what she knows.

Canterlot is as boring as I expected, maybe worse. City ponies are awful. I could really use some company.

- Ivy Path"

What followed was an address, different from the return address. Amie took this for a clever security measure, though she couldn't figure out what Ivy meant by it.

"Will you be needing more of the record today?" a voice asked from the darkness, so quiet Amie almost missed her. She turned to where Natane sat with her book. The bug had been so still and quiet that she forgot she wasn't alone.

Amie shook her head once. "I expect my attention will be elsewhere until morning. You're welcome to go if you want."

She stood up, hefting the oversized book onto her back as she did so. Whatever else could be said about that nervous little bug, she was dedicated to her charge. "I will. But my queen thinks you don't have much longer, noble Amie. You will need a nest within the week."

Amie bit back a wave of uncomfortable profanity. She couldn't keep her wings from revealing her real feelings even so, buzzing with nervous energy. "Fantastic. I'll... review the nesting instructions again at sunrise. You can come back to me then."

Natane bowed, then let herself out. She locked the door behind herself, levitating the latch across from the other side. Using a purely mechanical design for security. Good thing she trusted the bugs outside to protect her.

Amie stared back at the note for a few seconds more, before opening the lantern in her magic. She levitated the note directly over the flame, then withdrew it, charring and smoldering before her. She held it still until it was charred beyond recognition, then stomped away any ember that remained.

"Guess we'll be meeting some of you soon," she whispered to no one in particular. To the eggs? Or... larva? She wasn't sure which was grosser.

It must be her imagination that she felt anything in return. That warmth emanating from within—she had seen it on the faces of human mothers before. She wanted to feel it too one day—on two legs, in a world that made sense.

Looks like I don't get what I want. One more week.

Amie settled back onto her soft bed of sleeping bags and pillows. The hardest part about farcasting wasn't the magic anymore, it was getting comfortable enough to leave her body behind. Instinct kept her from leaving when she was in too much pain. If she kept bloating at the current rate, that threshold would soon be crossed for good.

Have to make this count.

Amie focused on the flame, letting her attention drift through rock and stone. Her power stretched, but her focus had grown stronger. It only took seconds.

Amie opened her eyes in her Agate apartment. She reclined in a very similar position, tucked onto a couch. But this body was already a pony, wearing a disguise she had crafted for her before leaving. The “worker” could never transform on her own, just as she could do almost nothing beyond following simple instructions.

"We've already gone beyond all possible duty," said Pachu'a, from a short distance away. "Escorting a worker here was madness. Now we cannot delay any longer. My apprentice and I will depart this place—if you are wise, you will all do likewise."

For all his wisdom, the orange hunter couldn't sense her farcasting magic. She might use that against them—but no. He had been nothing but helpful since their first encounter. He deserved her trust in exchange for all he had offered.

"I'm here now," she said. She changed, growing older and more mature—into the bat she had preferred while with Tailslide. That made her shorter than some of her students, but not many.

The room was packed full of bugs, a dozen in all. Pachu'a and Si'tsi lingered near the door, wearing traveling clothes and fresh pony forms. Her own bugs clustered on the other side, close to the sealed window. Rick and Beth of course, along with their new colleagues in Agate. Some would stay as hunters, while others would be traveling back to the hive with their harvested glamor.

They had to, or her food would be depleted before the first snowfall. "I apologize for the delay. I... see you're all here. Something wrong? Looks like you got back without trouble."

"We did," Sydney said, projecting confidence and pride. "They kept us under the trees the whole way. Picking fall-colored ponies was a good idea. Living camouflage."

"Be still." Pacuh’a stepped past her, spreading his pegasus wings as he closed the distance. That cut her view of the other bugs, leaving only the orange hunter. "It is even worse than I feared. You must evacuate your tribe at once, or they will all die.”

Chapter 69

A ripple of fear passed through Amie's fresh hunters. A few stood up, shifting towards the doors. Only Rick and Beth were unaffected.

Amie inclined her head to him, then gestured at the hall. "Outside. Everyone else, I'll be right back."

Pachu'a followed her from the room, then down the hall to where Rain Fly had once made her bedroom. Inside she found a space more or less as she left it, with the possible exception of a few fresh claw marks on the wood. So Beth had been using it with her hippogriff persona.

At least she kept the place clean. No new green slime had ruined any of her furniture. "You made it into Agate," she said, as soon as the door clicked closed behind them. "I fail to see why you needed to panic my campers."

Pachu'a remained close to the door, ready to bolt. Though whether he intended to run from her, or something worse—she couldn't know. "Nothing has changed in Agate since our last visit, honored queen. Consider that a moment. There are no new guards—no enhanced patrols—no fresh soldiers crowd the streets."

"That sounds... great!" She crossed to the window, peeking outside. There was no visible difference from her memory. The streets outside were quiet and dark. Hardworking ponies usually slept with the sun. Including one in particular that she wanted to see again.

"I'm sorry, why are you panicking over that? Isn't that exactly what we want?"

He crossed the room in a burst of motion from his feathers, landing on the window seat in front of her. "Because, honored queen, you revealed yourself to that mare during our hike together. The ponies know their city is compromised. They know, and we see no different."

He yanked the curtains away from her hoof, then hopped back down again. "The equestrians are barbaric and simple in their instincts, but they are not stupid. If we do not see their preparations, it means they cannot be seen. It does not mean they make none. A noose is curling around your neck, waiting to tighten. You must escape it and relocate your hunters."

Amie settled down into a sitting position. "There's another option. Maybe I got through to her—maybe she's second guessing the genocide angle. Maybe Sweetie Drops knows that if she does anything to lock the city down, it could spark off a war. But what she really wants is a diplomatic solution."

Pachu'a laughed in her face, loud and bitter. "Diplomacy with barbarians is impossible. Forgive me, honored queen—but you speak like the youngest nymph, freshly born. I warn you this last time: do not allow your naivete to claim the lives of these bugs. Trust the ways of those who have survived in hostile lands."

With each word, he grew increasingly despondent, fearful. She could not conceal her true feelings. She was not convinced.

"You're as doomed as the mad queen," he said, turning to go. "You and your tribe, opposites of the same coin. Proof of the need for balance. They were vicious and cruel, burning the forest instead of taking wise stewardship. Your madness will end in the death of many. The ancestors grant you see the folly in your actions before it is too late."

He left. Si'tsi joined him in the hall, and they made for the stairs.

Amie rose, then followed him. "Is this the best our future could be, Pachu'a?"

He stopped, glancing back at her. "Death?"

"Hiding. Running, fighting, killing. There's a better way."

Si'tsi shook her head slowly. "Will the ponies give up oats next? Will the spider stop spinning her web? Impossible." They vanished down the steps, leaving her standing motionless in the hall.

Tailslide should've heard that. Must be exhausted from that stupid job.

But she couldn't go to him yet—there was one task remaining to her.

Wes appeared in the doorway, silent. Until the door clicked, and the hunters vanished into the night. "He didn't convince you?"

She shook her head once, stepping back in. Her campers crowded in close, watching her eagerly.

"He might be right about the danger—I don't know." She tugged the door closed. "We could live the way he wants. We could stay moving, stay on the run, hiding and hunting forever. It works for their tribe. They've done it for centuries."

"But he didn't convince you," Beth prompted. "They were so afraid."

Amie nodded. "They've spent so long hiding from ponies they don't understand them—but I do. You do too, Beth What have you learned?"

"They're... people?" she suggested. "A little weird sometimes. My client is such a boomer. But she means well... just wants a bird to be her friend."

"Exactly." Amie gestured at the window. "They've been hurt. They're scared. But we can get through that to the other side and find the people underneath. If we can do it for them, the ponies can do it for us."

"We aren't in danger?" Sydney prompted. "They wouldn't really hurt us, that's what you're saying."

"No. Unfortunately... no. We're still in danger, the same amount I warned you about. You can't get caught out there no matter what." She turned on Beth. "That goes double for you and Wes. When you go north, you'll be on your own."

Amie wasn't even sure her magic would work at that distance. At least Beth wasn't starving anymore. So long as she stayed on good terms with Wes, she wouldn't even need to hunt.

"Not alone," Rick said, before either of them could say anything. "I'm going with them too. Two isn't enough."

Amie winced. Her wings twitched open, and she forced them closed again. "Rick, you're an expert on Equestria now. I need you back in Stella Lacus teaching more hunters."

He hurried forward, settling another full jar onto the table in front of her. Glamour, one of several that he and Beth had filled. Not as much as the relief mission of course, but still a significant sum. Amie didn't see it as a volume anymore—she imagined how many mouths it would feed. Two hundred bugs would eat a single meal from the contents of that jar. Every drop stockpiled in the apartment would feed her bugs for a week.

Inadequate. Better than nothing.

"Make do," he said. "Beth and I have been together since... the start. She goes, I go. Or Wes can do it alone. Your brother knows how to be a pony too."

My magic won't work on him. She couldn't entertain this argument much longer, or else let slivers of doubt and disagreement work their way into her hunters. They needed confidence now more than ever. "Alright, Rick. You've earned it. But the same warning. Where you go is dangerous. Their capital, then the north. We don't even know what we'll find there. And I expect you to listen to whatever Wes tells you. This is his mission."

Beth nodded. "We can do that. We can change on our own now, Amie—both of us. With that and some money, we'll be ghosts. Wes already explained everything. Meet your old friend, let you take over for a bit, learn the secret magic to travel the worlds. Then north to… wherever's far north. Get up there, get home safe. Sounds more fun than living in a mine."

The next few hours were not easy exactly, but they were at least straightforward. Amie had already planned it all out—building the team that would carry their magic back, traveling out the other direction as hikers before diverting around the city and doubling back. The others would stay, taking on Beth and Rick's clients, or new ones. Amie hadn't just picked the bravest bugs, but the most outgoing, friendly bugs she knew.

For the hunters, Amie helped them take new forms, and gave advice on what their job would be, before finishing with one last admonition about safety. "Marcus. Remember everything we talked about."

He nodded. "Intranet checking every morning and night. Always come back to this building the same way we left. Don't hurt the locals. If you're caught, take the money and run, don't go straight back to camp."

She nodded gratefully, then stood up. "Morning's coming soon. Might want to review for your first hunt. Maps are there... we've got a few campers here who can answer your questions about living in Equestria. I have to talk to Tailslide before work."

If only she could make the trip in person, she could do more than talk to him. But not when she wasn't in her own body.

One door down the hall, and she reached her bedroom—another identical space among many. A pony slept within, soundly despite the drama transpiring outside his door. But considering how hard Tailslide worked, that didn't surprise her.

The door wasn't locked, so she slipped in without trouble, clicking it closed behind her. Not that she expected any of her campers to try and follow, but she couldn't be sure.

She approached the bed as silently as a bat. Maybe it would be kinder just to let him rest. But Amie couldn't talk about friendship and honesty with her campers while ignoring it herself. This pegasus deserved a little of it from her.

"Hey," she whispered, as gently as she could. "Tailslide. You with me?"

He cracked open one eye, focusing on her. "Amie?"

"Yes and no. I'm... not really here. This is changeling magic."

He sat up abruptly. "Amie. You need to know what happened. There was this pony—she wanted to talk about you."

"Sweetie Drops," she suggested. "Earth pony? Cream coat, blue and pink mane? Curly?"

He touched her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. "You fought her on the road? An agent of the Crown? Amie... I told you not to get into trouble! You promised!"

You don't want to know what's happening at camp right now either. She settled down beside him on the bed. She resisted any attempt to move further. It didn't matter how badly she wanted to get closer, she wouldn't do it with someone else's body. "It wasn't supposed to get violent. I just did what you tried to do—told a pony the truth. I thought she might listen to me."

"She... knew a lot. About the battle by the river. Motherlode, you saving me—she knew it all."

Amie nodded. "Did she sound... convinced? Do you think it made a difference?"

"Hard to tell. Knowing what she did—she could've arrested me. But she didn't. That seems good. She did say I shouldn't leave town, but that's it."

Amie chuckled. "Guess I probably shouldn't... tell you what I came to tell you, then. If she doesn't want you leaving."

Tailslide squeezed a little harder with both wings, holding her still. "Whatever it is, I deserve to know, or you wouldn't be worried about it."

More than you know. "Well, I... I don't know how to tell you this..." She pulled free of him, wings opening halfway. Maybe she could fight hard enough to keep her body still, rebelling against all instinct in the process. She tucked her tail, and her ears pressed flat. "You know that... what we were doing... sometimes there are consequences, right? When two ponies are together..."

His eyes got wider. He hopped out of bed, rising to his hooves. "I know the kinds of things that can happen. Are you saying that your transformation is so good... you can get—"

If it was, Amie probably wouldn't know. Surely the act of changing form again would destroy such nascent life before it began. "I think it must be... more magical than that." It was her following him this time, across the room. "I thought you might want to know, since—you're involved. I think they'll be little bugs, not ponies. Maybe you'd... rather not hear this. The whole process sounds super gross, probably lots of goo and slime and straight out of Alien shit.

"But you deserve to know, even if it's just so you can run as far away from here as possible. Wouldn't blame you."

She didn't have to wonder what he was feeling. Sickly fear, nervous energy, disgust. But something won out over all of that, stronger by far. He wrapped both wings around her again, holding her still. "I'm not going to run, Amie. Whatever this is... you shouldn't have to go through it alone. Are you coming back to live here?"

She shook her head. "N-no. Already... getting harder to travel. I think I'll have to stay where I am until the process is done. I'll use magic to go further, like what I'm doing now. But mostly I'll lay around and... run things."

"Then I'll join you. You need protection. And I want to see—no matter how gross it gets."

Was there a limit to how much love could travel through Farcasting? If so, Amie didn't encounter it then. The stallion didn't have to do anything to her—his oath was enough.

Chapter 70

Amie could not return with Tailslide to walk the entire route back to Stella Lacus. Sending him with the food delivery team might as well be a requirement to strap flares to his back and show every step. But there was one step he insisted on taking, one so dangerous that Amie couldn't let him go alone.

"I'm going to tell the agent I'm leaving," he said. "The forge won't miss me—and I won't miss them. But that pony should know. I'm not running away; I'm not foalnapped. I'm going because I choose to."

Amie tried to persuade him not to for ten minutes at least, rehearsing all the reasons for danger that he already knew. No matter what she said, Tailslide just wouldn't listen. He had made up his mind. "I don't care how right you are. I'm doing it anyway."

So, she followed him through the city, all the way to the "Office of Internal Security" that hadn't been there during her last visit. It wasn't on the base, but instead was built by the police station. Amie had barely even interacted with Agate's uniformed constables, except to exchange the occasional polite greeting. She got the feeling they resented having their city under martial protection.

Regardless, the office was already lit, even in the early morning hours before proper sunrise. A secretary sat at their desk, and lights streamed in from rooms beyond.

"You probably shouldn't go in with me," Tailslide said, when they reached the doors. "She's not stupid. She'll know who you must be."

Amie spread her wings. "She might arrest you too. If that happens, I want to stay close to you."

The pegasus groaned, then held the door open for her.

The waiting secretary barely seemed to see them there. He shuffled several stacks of papers, then took another bite from his morning doughnut.

"Is your boss here?" Tailslide asked, politely. "I need to have a quick word with her."

Finally, he looked up. He nodded, then levitated the open box of doughnuts in their direction. "Hungry? She's in her office. Just make it quick, I know she's seeing someone at eight."

Tailslide took one with a grateful nod. Amie did too, mostly by reflex. Then she took her first bite and slowed. Her real body was demanding food again, to nourish so many eggs. But this one carried no young.

Even so, the taste was far less awful than she expected. Instead of warm dough, she tasted pride in quality, satisfaction from hard work. Under all that, she could just barely taste the flavors she remembered, the ones she missed so dearly. Sugar sweetness, warmth on her tongue.

"Thanks." She nodded in gratitude, waving to the secretary as they passed. The door was already open, and a familiar pony sat at her desk.

Sweetie Drops looked... deflated. There were bags under her eyes, her mane was disheveled, and she smelled like a pony who had spent more time working than cleaning up afterwards. Her wall bore a map of the city, covered in little pins and red lines. To Amie's chagrin, many of those pins clustered in the warehouse district. The Rent-a-Friend didn't have more than the other buildings around it—but the other parts of the city had almost nothing.

Sweetie Drops was narrowing in on her target. Would she have been so efficient if Amie hadn't given her bugs away? Pachu'a was right. And we're about to give her more reason to hunt for us.

The mare looked up as they entered, then saw Tailslide. She settled back into her seat, looking even more overwhelmed than before. "You're back. Reconsidered my offer?" Her eyes slid over Amie, settled on the doughnut she was eating, then moved past her again. "You shouldn't bring other ponies into this. Unless she knows something I need to hear."

Eating. That's how I escaped her suspicion when we first met. She doesn't think we can do that.

Tailslide dropped onto his haunches across from her. "She's just here for moral support. I needed to tell you: I'm taking a trip, and I might not be back for a while. If there's anything else you need from me, now's the time to get it."

She groaned, digging through her desk for a second until she found what she was looking for: a pad of paper. She settled it down in front of her, producing a quill and ink. "Contact address?"

"Changeling Isolation Zone," he said, pointing out the open window. "I don't know how their address system works."

"1 Prospector Drive, just off the I-5," Amie said, without thinking. As soon as she had, she wished she hadn't.

Sweetie's eyes fixed on her with sudden, furious intensity. She settled one hoof onto the table in front of her, so hard the wood groaned and flexed under the pressure. "Why would you do that, pony? Did you forget the Canterlot invasion? What we found in the occupied parts of the city?"

He shook his head sharply. "I didn't forget. I've given my testimony a hundred times—these changelings are different. They've never hurt me, never extracted love, never harmed any pony they met. I'm going to demonstrate that in a way nopony can ignore."

Sweetie Drops stood up, looking between them. "This is her, isn't it? The queen, Amie Blythe."

Amie opened her wings, keeping her posture as relaxed as she could. She didn't think this mare would attack and kill any prisoner she had. But if the “worker” died, that meant one family back on Earth who would never see their kid again.

"Not quite. I'm a messenger. I could show you, but you've got an open window. I don't want to cause a panic."

The mare rolled her eyes. "Because your kind care so much about the well-being of ponies. Clearly."

Amie shrugged. "Amie didn't have to say anything. You didn't know what she was, you'd never know."

The mare glared back. "That's what you say? Not the part where her drones had me alone and helpless?"

"No. That part was... a failure. She wanted to talk, not threaten you. She's not proud of how that went."

Tailslide glanced between them, puffing out his chest. Amie could read his growing anxiety without magic. He was terrified for what might happen, afraid that someone might get attacked. But who?

"The best hopes of peace are vain, changeling. Fools strive for harmony, without success. The princess has a blade poised above your queen. It will soon fall and spell the doom of your race. It cannot be prevented."

Amie froze. In an instant, Sweetie's despondent state became clear. If the pony realized that Amie wasn't evil, but was powerless to help...

"Why?" Tailslide asked, flaring both wings to either side. He stuck one out directly in front of her, protective. As though it would make a difference against an Alicorn. "After everything you've seen..."

The mare turned away from them both, staring out the open window. "It was not my choice. Commander Path... his report was more convincing. They considered recalling me completely, said my judgment was impaired—but they need somepony here to track down any infiltrators once their queen is dead."

She flicked her tail towards the door, dismissive. "I won't stop you, Tailslide. Go and be with her. You'll only be watching her die."

"How?" Tailslide demanded. He stormed over to the window, glowering. "You know this is wrong. There must be something we can do to stop it. Some petition to send to the princess..."

"The spell is cast already. A knife that flies in dreams and pierces the heart of every guilty soul. Even the changelings need to sleep eventually—when she does, she will perish."

True sleep... had Amie ever done that? Her brother did every night and hadn't been attacked by mysterious magic. So the princess's weapon wasn't an indiscriminate killer. The other bugs didn't have to worry—but she did.

Amie had only one dream since the transit—the time she met a mournful demigod, after her first night with Tailslide. Weeks had passed since then—when would it happen again?

"Unless she doesn't," Amie said. She backed towards the door. Both of her wings were open too, but not protectively like the stallion in front of her. She was ready to flee. Foolish of course, she still didn't know how to fly. "Amie isn't trying to colonize your world, she's trying to get back to her own. Your knife won't cross worlds."

The mare didn't turn around. "Ponies are supposed to be better than this. The Council of Lords are so eager for revenge... their knife finds the wrong neck. The queen told me the truth about one thing... she is our only chance for peace."

Amie was late returning to her true body. None of the campers would know—and she wouldn't tell them.

Beth and Wes are on it. Ivy has our way back. I just have to hold on until then.

She put out her lantern, then stumbled out into the growing hive. Tailslide's devotion refreshed her magic, but part of her still felt as drained as Sweetie Drops. Her bugs treated the ponies of Equestria with respect, harming none. Instead of mutual understanding, they sent an assassin.

Maybe Kaya is right. Pachu'a, all of them. Peace is impossible.

"Amie!" Someone pounded on the door, smacking it so loud it splintered. "He's coming, Amie! You need to get out here now!"

He. Only one person could bring such terror. Even if he flew straight there, Tailslide wouldn't reach her this quickly. Director Albrecht was on his way.

Amie closed her eyes, focusing her magic into the most difficult transformation she had ever performed. If the cruelty of Equestria wanted her dead so badly, then maybe she should abandon its rules completely. She still remembered what she was supposed to look like, still had a lifetime of memories to rely on.

The magic faltered, fading before she even started changing. Amie pushed anyway, forcing more power into the transformation than she had ever used before.

She got taller, leaner, more familiar. She couldn't hope it would work, that faded almost instantly. Her wings grew feathers, instead of vanishing completely. Her horn got sharper, and her fur remained.

She opened her eyes again a few seconds later, frustrated. Blonde mane blocked her vision, the same color as her hair should've been—but still a mane. She brushed it aside with magic and found that worked too. Her wings extended to either side, flaring with her annoyance. She still had wings! Amie had become an Alicorn!

"Amie, please! We need you!"

She sighed, then levitated the door open. Several bugs clustered in the hallway—scouts she had left outside to watch for danger, and a few who had appointed themselves her guards. They looked briefly confused by her appearance, but any significance was lost on them. How could they know what it meant for ponies?

"Amie, good. Thought you were hurt or something. It's Albrecht—his truck is almost here! There could be soldiers inside!"

"Get more guards down to the holding cell—make sure his secret police don't hear about this. I don't want to fight from both sides at once."

She broke into a trot, passing through the hall. She walked down the stairs, into the gift shop. The other bugs scampered after her. A handful of “workers” appeared from the dark hallways nearby, sensing her distress. She could have ordered them back, but she didn't.

"Get ready to collapse the entrance. If they attack me, you can seal it. Send a message over the intranet. The hunters in Agate might be able to help."

"You're going out there?" one kid asked—Amie didn't know his name yet. But he was brave enough to carry a bow, even when it looked like they would be attacked soon. "Why?"

"He's not our biggest enemy," she answered. She gestured back at the entrance, urgent. "Get inside, but don't do anything unless you hear me call out."

It would be wiser to use one of these workers for such a dangerous mission—Amie no longer felt wise. She walked alone through the gift shop, then peeked through dirty glass out into the parking lot.

Albrecht clambered out of a pickup truck. There was no one in the passenger seat. He wore only a satchel over his shoulder—no obvious weapons, or vests of explosives. More importantly, no army of soldiers followed nearby. Amie felt only fear from him—no fermenting betrayal, no pleasure at some clever plan about to come to fruition.

Amie levitated the door open. She remained inside the building, just in case. If there was some marksman hidden, the least she could do was minimize the number of viable angles to kill her. "Director Albrecht. I didn't expect to see you here."

He turned, then started walking. "Amie. You must be her—how often will you change your appearance?"

"It's me." She held still, blocking the entrance with her wings. "What do you want?"

The Transit concealed this man's age. He could've been another of the young counselors, if she judged on appearance alone. But his shoulders sagged in a way theirs didn't, borne down by the weight of responsibility.

He remained silent, until he was standing in the doorway, facing her. "To turn over Stella Lacus, of course. I surrender."

Chapter 71

Albrecht’s words hit her harder than any attack could've. From the instant she'd decided to move against him, she imagined all the terrible ways for it to end. She had suffered sieges, poisonings, campers armed with sharp sticks rushing in under some hideous threat.

Instead, the old camp director stood right in front of her, helpless. Maybe he had a radio in that bag, but he wouldn't reach it before Amie did. Fortunate for him that she wasn't the bug he claimed her to be. "Surrender," she repeated. "You're sure about that? You... understand what that would mean?"

He nodded weakly. "Of course, child. Hide behind your new abilities all you wish. I fought with all the strength I had to protect the children of Stella Lacus. You may judge my failures, but you were not in my position. You will soon learn the difficulty I faced, when the burden is yours to carry."

Amie considered sending him right back out again. But no matter how frustrating the director could be, this was still her best chance for a peaceful surrender. There would not be another like it. "Come in then. Let's discuss your terms."

She didn't take him into the mine, despite his obvious interest in what her bugs were building. Instead, she had her guards block the way, directing him up the steps to her private office. She switched on the lights as she came in, then shut the door behind them with her magic.

More than a few curious bugs drifted closer to listen through the door. She couldn't count on perfect privacy no matter how much she wanted it.

"I know I'm in no place to make demands," he said. "I have only my own cooperation to give. You hold many of our weapons now, and all the adults trained to use them. By walking in here, I know there's nothing I can do to compel you. But I suspect you won't kill me. If what I hear about your powers are true, you have had that ability for some time now. You did not, which leads me to believe you are sincere. You believe you can do a better job than I have. You will have your chance to prove that."

Amie watched him carefully. She could force her way into his mind—or try, if she wanted. Yet she had never offered food to the director. That act cemented her contact with the bugs, with enduring strength that was very difficult to replicate. She might not be able to look into his mind even if she wanted to.

She felt his sincerity, anyway. He resented her, maybe even hated her. But she didn't find aggression, or any signs of fermenting violence. "I think I adapted faster than you did. I think I learned the truth about the Transit, and how to survive our circumstances. I think your hesitation killed kids. This camp is on the edge of starvation, when it doesn't have to be."

He settled onto his haunches, then dug into his saddlebags. She'd underestimated Albrecht—he could use magic. He could levitate, anyway. He lifted out a stack of papers, holding it towards her. When he spoke, all that anger was replaced with something else—pain. "You think I made that choice callously? That I threw away anyone I didn't think I could use? I didn't care?"

Amie took the pages from him. There weren't many—they were letters, a single typed page. Each one began more or less the same: "Dear Mr. and Ms. Coulter, I know this is the last news any parent wants to receive..."

She skimmed one. The letter expressed condolences and asked forgiveness for the death of a camper. Each one had photographs, taken during the camp, then after. The last picture on each one was a grave. Amie flicked to the next one. Though the contents were fundamentally the same, it wasn't a duplicate letter. Each one had memories and testimony from the individual child's counselors and friends. They described the bravery of each child, the contributions they each made despite their young age.

"There are seven dead so far—not counting those who died following you. I deserve judgment for these deaths—I expect my God to find me wanting when I come before His bar. If others fall, it will not be because of me. How will you write the letters to their parents, when more campers die? When winter comes, will you do better than I did? Will you stop them from starving?"

Amie settled his letters onto her desk, beside all her other plans. "Yes, director. And I'd like your help to do it. We can't rely on charity to keep our bugs fed; we're going to have to hunt for ourselves. Some of the older campers are brave enough, but I would be much happier with adults to supervise. These campers are adaptable—but they're teenagers."

"Hunt," he repeated. "I've had the adults helping with food since the beginning. Trapping game, fishing, and the larger stuff. But one mountain can't feed so many."

"Not that kind of hunting," she said. "But first, I want a list of all your guards. I want the ones you think are reasonable, who will accept your surrender. Then tell me the ones who you think are going to lose it and hurt people. I don't want to waste resources keeping prisoners."

She levitated something off her desk, for him to see. It was a map of Equestria, or at least the nearest few hundred miles. She'd highlighted rail routes, the biggest cities, and little towns, along with everything she remembered about each scrawled in the margins.

There was very little. Most, like Motherlode, had just a line or two. But studying to be Ivy's friend had taught her plenty about Equestria's government that she retained. "I need to get hunters out there—not one team, but a dozen. They need to learn their powers, learn the local customs, and come up with a plan... and we don't have a lot of time to teach them."

She moved closer to him, folding the map closed as she did so. In her Alicorn shape, she was taller than Albrecht by almost a head, radiating power in a way he did not. "This is your camp—you know what its people can do. Give me teams of three or four. I'd like an adult on each one, or at least a counselor."

"A dozen hunting teams?" he asked, indignant. "Amie, it can't be done. There are barely a dozen people who can shoot straight in all of Stella Lacus. Half of those aren't what I would call 'stable' enough to be unsupervised for long periods."

She smiled. "Fortunately, that isn't the skill we need. In fact, we'll be better off sending bugs who don't know the first thing about violence. We're looking for people who can be good friends. Social, adaptable, and outgoing."

The director walked past her, inspecting her dark office. He eyed the boarded-up window, and the single working electric light overhead. But whatever he was feeling, he hid it too well for Amie to extract.

"You project the confidence of youth," he finally said. "It may be that you're correct. Perhaps your decisions will save this camp. But many have suffered at the hands of those who were certain they did the right thing."

She nodded. "I'm not saying you're wrong, Mr. Albrecht. Whatever happens, I'm sure I'll be the first one to suffer the consequences. Equestria already knows about me, and they've made me the target of their wrath. You may be taking back your position before we make it back to Earth. I hope I've shared everything I learned before that happened. And... that Wes is far away from here."

She nudged him with a wing, then levitated the door open. "Please come with me, Mr. Albrecht. There are some people I'd like you to meet. Then we have a radio broadcast to make together."

It all happened about how she imagined after that. For better or worse, her confidence had won Albrecht’s surrender. Amie released half of his old guards that afternoon, keeping the others trapped until she had more time.

Amie could deal with them eventually, if she was the only one who brought them food. A queen could only offer it so many times before other bugs saw what was already obvious.

There was no war for Camp Stella Lacus. Whatever fears she had conjured, Albrecht’s police were still humans underneath. Humans driven to desperation, fear, and fervent devotion—but not so far that they would murder their way through children.

Amie rode back with Albrecht a few hours later, now using another of her “workers” for the task. She trusted this one adversary—but not the whole camp, shortly after their abrupt change of leadership. If ever someone would make an attempt on her life, it would be then.

But there was no attack. Not during the drive, or after when Albrecht gathered all those in his former leadership council into his office for one final meeting. She felt plenty of anger from the group, ample resentment—but for every angry, bitter member of the staff, there were five more who radiated their relief.

Albrecht kept them alive through painful rationing and brutal security—Amie brought food and promised more.

"There's one thing I don't understand," said Counselor Poole. "About this whole thing. Why the hell do you want our campers living in an abandoned mine? I know the tents aren’t cut out for snow, but we do have real buildings. If you're in charge now, can't you just bring everybody back? Set up housing in the MPR or something."

Several staff members murmured their agreement. "I don't want to live in a cave."

"We still have running water up here."

Amie waited for them all to finish, listening to every objection. If their leaders had them, then even more campers would feel the same way.

"We're sticking with it for now, and I have two reasons." Amie stood up, pacing slowly past the desk. "Only one of them matters for this meeting: there's an army massing at the base of our mountain. Sometime soon, they may decide it's time to invade and wipe us out. They have airships, magical artillery, and a military tradition going back centuries. If we're scattered, Camp Stella Lacus will be massacred."

Dead silence. None of them dared question her—they had no reason to, when they could easily sense her sincerity.

"The old mine has more than enough space to house everyone—and we're adapted to live underground. You can climb walls, dig through rock, navigate in total darkness—we're built to live down there. More importantly, it has a well, and only one entrance. If we had to, we could hold it with the guns we have. Long enough to force them to the negotiating table, I hope."

"You knew this... for all these months..." Nurse Sobol said. After what Amie had done to heal the injured bugs, this nurse was one of her staunchest allies. For all Amie knew, she was the one who had persuaded Albrecht in the first place. "And we continued in ignorance."

Amie nodded. "I know much more, and I don't know how long I have to teach you all. But if you thought I was turning myself into a magical dictator—sorry. I still need you. Everyone still works. Difference is, everyone eats."

She levitated something down onto the desk between them—her plans for the camp, as much as she had time to put together so far. "Here's how we're going to start. I need everyone with construction or contractor experience to report..."

Chapter 72

Amie woke to uncomfortable pressure against her real body, jostling her back to reality. She blinked, then opened one eye. A bug stood nearby, bouncing with nervous energy.

It took her a moment more to recover—back to her bloated body, and the cramps that came from a long time holding still.

"What is it?"

"Food's here!" he said. "I mean... the hunters' food got here. And there's a horse with them. Wants to see you."

"Pegasus?" she suggested. "Stallion? Big wings? Tailslide."

The bug nodded. "Said you would know him. What should we do?"

She stood, bending down for an exaggerated stretch. Even transformed into this Alicorn disguise, she still felt bloated and swollen. There would be no relief, not until those eggs were growing outside her body.

"Bring the glamour into the vault with the rest. I'll meet the pony. He's... a friend."

Either the kid couldn't tell what she meant or was too nervous to call her on it. He scampered off to deliver her instructions.

"You allow a pony here?" asked another voice. Natane whispered from the shadowy depths of her room, returned to her unnatural, supernal confidence. "Do you realize the danger that represents? They remember all they see and carry that knowledge to your enemies. Even if the chattel is ensorceled, there is always risk they will pierce your magic and rebel. Ponies overflow with magic and can inflict devastating harm if you aren't prepared to put them down."

Amie ground her teeth together, ears folding back. "I would appreciate if you don't repeat any of those things to my guest when he gets here. Tailslide... fathered those eggs. He's not ensorcelled,whatever that means. He's not a slave. We're... together."

Natane rolled her eyes. "If it were possible, I would have taken command of your swarm, long enough for you to grow to maturity. You may soon have eggs of your own, but you are a nymph in every other respect. Alas, this cannot be done. Your swarm must necessarily survive with your leadership or perish."

She bowed low and mocking, before making her way out. "All this innovation will either make you the greatest queen to ever live, or a swiftly slain lesson to all others. Banish every pony notion of affection and togetherness from your mind, if you can. What does not serve you is a liability."

As she left, Tailslide appeared in the doorway, flanked by a half-dozen other bugs. Some were guards, a few were workers—all stared, with expressions somewhere between confusion and hunger.

You thought we were new at this, but we weren't. We had Wes living with us before. If I made that work, I could make this work too.

"Who is this?" asked Danelle, the only one brave enough to follow the stallion through her open door. "Is it a good idea to have ponies here?"

"No," she answered honestly. "It's a terrible idea. But he has a right to be here." She stood up straight, raising her voice. "Make sure everyone knows. This pony is my guest. He has already done a great service for Stella Lacus, and he will be treated with respect. If any bug touches him, they won't be welcome in my camp anymore. We do not harm our guests."

Danelle nodded weakly, backing away through the open doors. Several others remained in the doorway. Amie couldn't rely on the ignorance of younger campers to conceal what really existed between them. Tailslide's feelings radiated bright enough to sense through several layers of stone. He would draw the other bugs here like a space heater in a cold room. It didn't matter if his feelings were too diffuse to be harvested by anyone watching.

Good thing they aren't starving anymore, or this would get ugly. Amie levitated the door closed, clicking the lock across behind him.

"Amie," Tailslide said. Both wings opened to either side, feathers disordered from a long flight. His scent was heavy with sweat and ozone—more of that fantastic energy that had drawn her to him in the first place. "You're a..."

She flushed, both wings opening reflexively. "I know. I wasn't going for Alicorn—I tried to get back onto two legs. But I couldn't get it to work. I tried to force it with a ton of glamour, but I ended up like this."

He closed the distance between them in a few steps. "Not that. I... knew you could copy Alicorns. Happened during the invasion. I meant—" He touched her belly with one wing, brushing gently against it. "That's ten months too early. Neither of us should even know yet."

Amie nodded. "Used to keep protection in my purse. If I'd known... Our biology is so different, I didn't even dream it could happen. Everything I've read says it can't! But I think there's something different about us—the humans who transformed, not the ones born here. I think it must be because of that—the other changelings couldn't be wrong about something so important."

"Other changelings?" Tailslide's eyebrows went up. "You've met... other changelings? In Equestria? Not more friendly ones from your planet—the evil invaders?"

"No! Not them." She couldn't say more, not without risking her oath to Pachu'a. "That trip I went to was... far away from anywhere ponies live. They're in the wilderness. Look, that's not important." It was so strange to be looking down on Tailslide instead of up—disorienting. "That's not what this is about. It's—I'm gonna be a mom, Tailslide. Not long now—a few days at most. I know it's not what you expected."

He laughed; voice strained. He could act better than most, but the pain underneath remained naked to her. "I can't think of another mare I'd choose. I don't want to—I don't want to be the one to tell you this. But if you haven't already considered..." He pushed her shoulder, easing her into a sitting position. He felt far weaker than she might've otherwise expected—weak enough for her to resist, if she wanted to. She didn't.

"Ponies have hybrids with lots of other species—but changelings are so different! Whatever's happening... that foal might not make it all the way out. Especially this fast—there's no way that's a pony pregnancy.

Amie relaxed, visibly enough that even Tailslide could see. "You're not upset?"

"Not that! I... already know it's not an Equestrian pregnancy. It's... really gross, remember? Like I said. Best thing that can happen is you not seeing until it's over." She stood up, backing away from him. "Even then, you might not want to see. I wouldn't. Human biology is yucky enough."

The pegasus circled slowly around her. His attention flicked into the room, at her notes and the makeshift office she had built. "I didn't abandon you before, Amie. Whatever happens—I want to be part of it. I gave up my chance to fly south a long time ago. Might as well see it through to the end." He lowered his voice, barely even loud enough for her otherwise sharp senses. "If that SMILE agent was telling the truth... I won't abandon our foal. No matter how they look."

Amie had almost managed to forget about that particular sword of Damocles hanging overhead. No sooner could she overcome one threat when another appeared to consume her. Unlike every threat before it, this one struck from a field that she didn't understand. There was... only one bug who might know. Only Amie hadn't told her.

Amie galloped over to the door, throwing it open. "Natane!" she yelled, voice echoing down the hall. "Where is Natane?" Several bugs waited outside—at least a dozen by then, so thick they blocked the hall. "Where is Natane?" she asked, desperate.

Tailslide followed her, expression bewildered. But the presence of so many other bugs kept him silent. She could hardly blame him for his fear.

"She went to the nursery," someone said, pointing. "To inspect it. Were we supposed to keep her?"

Amie shook her head once. "I need to see her. Everyone, return to your duties. Tunnel team... you bugs shouldn't be up here. Same with you, construction. You've got furniture to move. I'll share the news this pony brought when it's time, I promise."

The crowd parted for her, scattering at her reproach. Tailslide followed behind her, soon matching pace. "What was that about?"

"There's a bug here who might be able to help."

He nodded, following silently behind her through the mine. Bugs scattered and stared as they passed, attention focused instantly on Tailslide. It didn't matter that half the bugs looked like other creatures—the delicious emotions of the real thing were impossible to miss. Tailslide's devotion to her, his self-sacrifice and commitment through adversity—drew bugs to them from all over the mine.

Amie scrambled onto the freight elevator, a heavy wooden platform surrounded by metal supports and lots of naked stone. She waited for Tailslide to join her, then engaged the lift. They dropped, turning the stone walls to brown smears.

"There are other ways down here, but I've got the stairs locked up. Most of this old mine is still dangerous, even for bugs meant to live underground."

Tailslide stepped into the center of the platform, tucking both wings to his sides. "This feels... unsafe." He had to raise his voice over the violent squeaking and straining wood of the elevator—a modern machine, this wasn’t.

"Oh, yeah. They were still running this thing as a tourist attraction, so I assume it's safe. You should see the roller-coaster. If we can get the generator running again, we should be able to get it working too. After we come up with better restraints."

The stallion spun on her. "You can't be serious. You built a theme park ride?"

"Already here. Fixing it is very low priority. Would be nice if we could switch it on once before we have to scavenge the parts."

“Not sure how I’m supposed to keep up with you.” Tailslide settled onto his haunches, eyes fixed on her. Anything other than staring at the rapid motion of the lift. “Aren’t you fighting another war right now? You had to take your camp over to stop the kids from starving. How are you going to fight them and Equestria at the same time?”

She chuckled. But such a quiet sound was instantly lost in the maelstrom of noise. “He surrendered! He’s working for me now!”

Tailslide rose in a blur, stopping just in front of her. “You promised there wouldn’t be fighting without me!”

“There wasn’t!” Not quite true, but close enough. “I tricked his soldiers, caught them, and the war ended before it began. Kinda hard to fight the girl who’s bringing in all your food.”

He relaxed, settling both wings to his sides again. “Oh. That seems… uncharacteristic for changelings. The invaders were incredibly violent with each other—almost as violent as they were with us.”

Amie braced her hoof against the lever, then brought them to a stop. Not quite at the bottom—but any lower, and they would hit the flooded section. “You should know by now—we’re not like those bugs. No one here’s perfect—but I think they would all rather settle a disagreement with conversation.”

She stepped out, lighting her horn ahead of her. The electrical cables weren’t here yet, though her construction team already had thick hoses and pump equipment here, piled up beside the elevator. If they were very lucky, it would all still work.

This close to her, Amie could sense the other bugs nearby. A few of her workers remained in the nursery, to help with the construction as much as give Amie a quick way to check in on things. She could think of fewer safer positions for the camp’s souldeath victims.

But there was one other—Natane, exactly the bug she had come to find. She broke into a trot, eventually emerging in the nursery.

The trickle of water had stopped, though a large clear pool remained against the bridal veil. The exit was entirely sealed now, covered in fresh cement.

“You brought a pony down here?” Natane said, without turning around. She still had the book on her shoulders, though she carried nothing else. No other tools or weapons. But considering the magic a queen could wield, she didn’t need any. “He should not know of this place. Or if you insist on this male in particular, there is a procedure. At least your vanity would yield a plentiful harvest of glamour.”

Tailslide shivered. Fear rippled over him, and he hesitated in the doorway. She turned, just long enough to meet his eyes. I won’t let her do it, she thought. But she had no way of sending that to him, the same way she could with her bugs. He would have to read her intentions the simple way.

“There’s something I meant to ask you,” Amie said, ignoring her invitation completely. At least she never had to wonder who she was talking to. “The Equestrian princess… she has dream magic, doesn’t she?”

That was strange enough to catch Kaya off-guard. She turned, crossing back through the empty cavern in a few quick strides. “Whatever you’re imagining, you should stop. The Alicorns are mighty beyond your imagination, nymph. Their powers cannot be resisted, even by the most powerful among us. Queen Chrysalis proved that in spectacular fashion. Even a momentary victory proved only to be the entire destruction of her tribe. We cannot overcome, only hide.”

Their powers cannot be resisted. Her words came down on Amie with the crushing weight of certainty. There was no secret royal way to stop an incoming spell. In that case, it was probably better that the other queen not see Amie’s weakness. She still might have a way out of this. If they could get back to Earth, no magical dagger would matter.

“It is not wise to discuss this further,” she went on. “Least of all in the presence of this one. It would be different if you intended to slay him when you were finished—but you will not even do that to your enemies. Your lover will surely be spared.”

Amie nodded harshly. “Yes, honored one. I’m not big on murder, if it’s all the same to you. But I would like to know how to construct a nursery.”

“Natane can inform you,” the queen said. “I will leave you now. It would not be proper for the queen of another tribe to attend such a sacred occasion. I will watch again when the ponies come to slaughter you.”

The drone twitched, and her expression relaxed. “Was there something you needed, honored queen?”

Amie shook her head once. “Not now.”

Chapter 73

Tailslide did not run when he saw the true state of Amie's body. Maybe it was his feelings for her—or maybe it was his experience with the royal guard, imparting an unusual tolerance for biology. Either way, he remained by her side through the subsequent days.

Amie didn't rely on loyal campers to help construct the nest, as much as she believed she could trust them. There was enough to do to build the upper levels of her little colony to keep them all busy, and potentially very little time to do it. But thanks to Stella Lacus's previous management, she had plenty of other bugs who could help, bugs who depended on her contact for any chance of a real recovery.

For a few days longer, Amie could still use the occasional worker mixed in with the regular population to check in on everyone, and make sure that each task was progressing at speed. Most of the camp's weapons were already secure underground, with work now focused on carrying furniture in from the hotel across the street. The mattresses were old and the beds plain—but considering most of the camp had spent the last four months on cots, they still represented a significant improvement.

More exciting was the tunneling team, her first application of Queen Kaya's secret knowledge. With the right technique, those bugs could excavate nearly ten meters a day. Difficult, dirty work—but without it, every resupply mission would represent a dangerous test of their magical abilities, and the ponies' complacency. Given their behavior the last time, Amie didn't doubt bugs would die if they couldn't complete their better way.

Her brother and the former hunters traveled slowly, conserving their limited currency by walking where they could, and catching spare space in cargo trains. But Amie only had one chance to check in with them before she lost the ability completely. She had only one set of eyes for her last few days—albeit with Tailslide for company.

It took the queen's knowledge to know how to construct wax cells for each egg, to know their spacing and the proper temperature and humidity they would require for their best chance at life. But once Amie knew, the workers could construct them with very little input. She tried not to think on the disturbing implications.

She had one final meeting with the camp's leading bugs before her delivery came, in the nest itself. She would've done it elsewhere, but she'd grown too large to move very far, too dependent on the food Tailslide or workers brought her. Besides—they would all discover the truth sooner or later.

They did not react with Tailslide's initial horror, when they stepped into the nest for the first time. Its walls were entirely transformed, covered by green wax and shaped stone that destroyed every remnant of its natural beauty. Whatever disgust might come naturally to a human being was superseded with something more instinctive.

Albrecht was the first to arrive, and the first to react. "This is the true source of your victory. You were... endowed with biological advantages. That's why others can't recreate your powers."

She hadn't obeyed every stricture of Kaya's instructions for a nest. Where the changelings relied on wax since all fabric would rot, she could have a little more comfort resting on soft, waterproof sleeping bags. "I guess so," she answered. It wasn't completely true—on her arrival, she looked no different from any of the other young women in camp. Maybe any of them could've changed the way she did, given the right encouragement.

"I'm sure you already guessed as much, given you've had a thousand young people stuck in a confined space with nothing to do—but changelings are sterile. The... females are, anyway. Except for nymphs, and queens. Without this, we go extinct."

The camp director seemed in better spirits than their first meeting, despite the waxy nest around him and the magical blue glow from captive spells. Maybe it was the weight of responsibility he no longer carried—or maybe it was seeing his campers finally get to eat. "It's worth considering whether we even should reproduce, Amie. If we can return to Earth, what would become of those born to this cursed place? And if we're banished here for good—maybe it would be kinder if our lineage does not continue. They will be parasites like us, won't they?"

Danelle appeared in the doorway, along with Mrs. Sobol and the current leader of her scouts, Andre. They stumbled in off the elevator, showing some of the same slack-jawed surprise at what they found.

"Our food is... unconventional," Amie said. "But I don't think that means we don't deserve to live. Ask Tailslide—does he feel weaker for having fed me?"

Tucked away against the nearest wall was a cloth tent, one of many taken from camp. Tailslide had turned it to makeshift quarters, a respite where he could be surrounded by things he understood instead of gross bug stuff. The walls were thin enough for him to overhear everything, including his own name.

He popped his head out, eyeing the assembly of changelings. They watched him emerge, with that characteristic blend of hunger and curiosity. "Amie?"

She waved him over. "About the way changelings live. After the Canterlot Invasion... you said that the bugs there did terrible things, didn't you? They hurt a lot of ponies for food."

"Oh." His ears folded, and his face paled. "They showed everypony the photographs when they assigned us here. Gruesome... I don't know if it's appropriate for these ponies, Amie. They're too young."

Danelle was, anyway. Amie nodded her agreement. "But when you were with me—did you ever feel drained? Like you had a parasite? Or... did you see the bugs living with me hurt anypony else?"

"No. That's how I knew you were different. I mean—I already knew. But when you weren't there to watch them, I still saw what they were doing, heard them talking sometimes. It would've been a problem if they hurt ponies, I'm not sure what I would've done."

Amie touched his shoulder with one leg—that was about the motion she could handle right then. "Thank you. That was my point, Mr. Albrecht. We can live well without hurting anyone. I'm... still figuring out how it works. But my best guess—" And what Kaya thought, but there was no need to get complicated. "—sapient species on this planet produce glamour naturally. It's part of their native emotional energy, inherent in everything they do. We can harvest it passively, collecting what would otherwise be wasted. We eat, and they're not worse off."

The old director grumbled his dissatisfaction. "I still think this whole... process... should've waited a few years at the very least. I know you haven't been outside—but the first frost has settled on the mountain, and not melted with morning sun. Campers have to choose between the multipurpose building's central heating, or this mine. The last thing a delicate situation needs is another source of unpredictability and destabilization."

"I didn't intend it," Amie admitted. "But I... don't think I would be a queen otherwise. This was the moment I changed. Without a queen, we can't survive against Equestria."

Mrs. Sobol cleared her throat, stepping past him. "Miss Blythe. I have other concerns. First, I should be here until this... process is completed. I have delivered many children into this—another world. There can be complications. Second, you appear to be—exceptionally pregnant. How many are you expecting?"

She couldn't stand anymore, but she did her best to meet the nurse's eyes anyway. "I would be grateful for your help. Unfortunately, the problem is worse than you imagine. I'm carrying... eggs. Individually, they're small. I'm told a queen can produce a hundred or more every few months. They will take that long to hatch again and spend six more months as larva after that."

Danelle laughed nervously. "That's... weird. This is weird, Amie. I don't think it's a good idea. That sounds like a lot of work! Will there be bugs down here in the nursery all the time?"

She nodded. "Like an ant colony or a termite mound. I think the... brain-damaged bugs... will make for good candidates, along with the youngest campers. Much safer than staying up on the surface where an army or a hungry wolf might catch them."

"Campers need something to keep them busy," Albrecht said. "Maybe this will help. My long-term plans for banishment here already considered the construction of a school. But that's your problem now."

"Just keep everything running for the next few days. Once the eggs are in the nursery, I'll be able to help again. I want the other hunting teams ready to leave by the end of the week."

They left her there not long after, returning to their duties on the surface. Mrs. Sobol remained, but she was grateful for her help. Even if a changeling birth would be nothing like the human equivalent—there was something comforting about a medical professional with equipment on hand.

She didn't have long to wait. Without the sun to measure time, without the need to sleep, Amie spent the next while in a semi-delirious state. All the same worries still boiled in her chest—Beth's visit to Ivy, their constantly draining supply of food, and fear over the “hunting” groups. If ponies caught and killed one, how would she live with herself?

When the moment finally came, it was nothing like she imagined. She didn't have a well-designed hospital bed, didn't have an epidural and a team of skilled doctors and nurses to care for her. Tailslide wasn't exactly the loving husband she'd imagined spending the rest of her life with. But he was brave, and devoted enough to watch something that Amie herself wouldn't even want to see on the Discovery Channel.

Once she was past her disgust, Amie realized that it didn't hurt. If anything, the process was... pleasant. It made sense—if queens went through torture with each new generation of eggs, they would not produce large colonies, and the species couldn't survive. She couldn't move much—but she didn't have to. There were workers nearby to take the eggs away one at a time, where they could be sealed away in waxy clusters for their first few days of incubation.

They would need to be moved every few days, kept at just the right temperature and just wet enough to keep from drying out. They would need to be cleaned, kept near fresh air, and handled in every moment with supreme delicacy, or else rob the bug growing within of their chance at a healthy life.

It must've taken hours, spent at the furthest edge of exhaustion. But eventually—through pleasure and pain and fear and heartache—the last of the eggs was finally gone. She collapsed back into her nest, feeling very much like a deflated canteen. The empty nursery walls were now clustered with many eggs, each one faintly luminous with magic. Their first few drops of glamour would have to sustain them until they hatched with spring.

"You're... healing already," Tailslide said. She hadn't seen him approach—but Amie was so exhausted that she didn't see much of anything past her nose. "Guess you would have to. The other changeling queen didn't look like... that."

Amie struggled to look up. This was what it felt like not to sleep for months. Now that the eggs were gone, it caught up with her in a wave. "Y-yeah. Guess... transformation magic... comes in handy sometimes. Don't have to waddle around like a pig the rest of my life. Little blessings."

He wiped her face with something damp and cool. "Wonder what it's like to have a hundred foals all at once. That's... more than anyone I've ever heard of, even in the old earth pony tribes. Will they look like me?"

Amie chuckled. She fought to stay awake, but it was a losing battle. No one could go through such exertion without needing rest, even someone as strong and healthy as Amie. "I... hope they're like you. I hope they're brave, I hope they... do the right thing, even when they have to sacrifice. I hope they care about people who look different than they do. I hope they protect the ones they love."

He wrapped one wing around her, holding her close. Amie couldn't see anything else anymore—not the nurse, not the workers, not the glowing eggs.

But maybe that was okay. She wasn't alone.

Chapter 74

Amie woke in an infinite, featureless wasteland.

Unbroken gray stone extended as far as she could see in all directions, covered only with a thin layer of swirling mist. She stood awkwardly, barely stable on four legs. "Hello? Is anyone... there?"

The nest was gone, along with Tailslide, Mrs. Sobol and the mine. Where am I?

"The end," said a voice. Amie recognized it, though she had only heard it once before. She turned and found a towering figure looming over her. The Alicorn was even more frightening the second time—her mane filled the sky, with stars and swirling nebulae drawn along in invisible currents. "The evil you brought to Equestria ends tonight. Justice will be done."

Scale was meaningless in this place. Amie was less than a child compared to this being, dwarfed by the irresistible might of her magic. She didn't avert her eyes, didn't bow or submit herself to the mighty being. If the princess had already decided to kill her, she would die on her feet.

"There's no justice in murder. You can't end an evil that never happened."

The princess's eyes cut sharper than any knife. Her horn glowed brighter, a heat that could boil her away, or scorch her from the earth. "So many wicked creatures profess before the hammer of judgment falls. But Equestria is not a domain of chaos—here harmony is sovereign.

"Meaning... you?" she asked, defiant. "You're perfect and impartial and you've already decided I should die."

The Alicorn stiffened. Her mane blazed, stars burning as bright as noon sunlight. "I judge you not, queen of evil. As you say, there is no executor that can be trusted with the power of life and death. But spellcraft is no judge—it is naked mathematics. Your guilt will arbitrate. Your sorrows and fears and failures will execute your sentence. Never has it erred."

Amie glared up at the princess, spreading her wings to be as big as possible. But no matter how big she looked; she couldn't protect herself from this magic. More importantly, she couldn't protect Stella Lacus from the consequences of her death.

"I was so close, princess. I united them without bloodshed. I was... building understanding in your citizens. Bridges of diplomacy. You don't have to do this—there's another way."

Her rage cooled, and the light dimmed from her mane. "I know better than most creatures, young queen. There can be no diplomacy with evil. If it's any consolation, no blade swings in solitude. I will witness your judgment. By three blows it comes—in failure, sorrow, and guilt. By three you are convicted, and by three condemned."

Her horn flashed, blinding Amie. She closed her eyes, shielded her face with a leg, but it made no difference. The light pierced her, leaving wisps and shadow behind. It burned, searing every part of her. She opened her mouth to scream but lacked the strength to form words.

Sirens blared in her ears. Amie perched on the edge of the passenger seat, watching Portland's midnight streets blur past outside. There was little traffic on the roads so late at night, but what cars there were parted ahead of them, clearing the route to their destination.

"Don't be so tense, Rookie," the driver said, his voice calm despite the noise and racing speed. But for all his calm, his hair was already half gray. "We'll just be there to wait around until the fire department does their job. Easy shift, easy life."

Amie wasn't a bug anymore, but she wouldn't know it from her clothes. Even the smallest size of stiff blue jacket was too big for her, puffing up whenever she moved. "Y-yeah," she said, laughing nervously. "Sure. Easy first night."

"Didn't take this job because it was easy," Simmons said, nudging her shoulder with one hand. He shouldn't be taking his attention off the wheel, but the distraction didn't faze him. He had perfect control over the ambulance, just like everything else. "You're here to save lives, Rookie. Whatever's waiting for us tonight is your first chance. Just keep breathing until we get there, alright? Don't want my rookie passing out."

The vehicle seemed to slow, as though they had passed into a wall of solid honey. Headlights out her window stretched, leaving luminous contrails behind them. "I do not understand. This place... is not Equestria. It is no secretive burrow. Where is this memory?"

Amie glanced over her shoulder and found Princess Luna in the back of her ambulance. She passed through the gurney as though it weren't there, and her glowing horn pierced the roof. She was insubstantial, while all the world around her remained solid.

"My first night as an EMT," Amie whispered. "A few months before camp."

Up ahead, flashing red and white lights signaled an already waiting fire engine, flanked by police and other support vehicles. "EMT. You are assassins, perhaps? Or soldiers."

"Not exactly." Amie didn't need the vision to show her what was coming. Her heart raced, and her skin paled. She clutched her jacket so tight her knuckles went white. "Simmons—what if he jumps?"

The driver didn't react, except to pull them in right behind the other vehicles. Maybe he couldn't hear her—he couldn't see the glowing horse. "Get the kit, Rookie! Sight and sound. Just think about that nice warm bed when this is over."

She moved by rote, springing out of the side door, then securing her “kit” over her shoulder. The medical bag was heavy enough to slow her down—half as heavy as she was. She kept under control, passing through a scattered crowd of stunned onlookers.

Simmons cleared the way in front of her, with his stocky build and monumental confidence. "EMT. Out of the way, please. Coming through."

Soon they were past the police line, to where several firemen stood, clutching an oversized beige trampoline between them.

Far above, a pale figure perched on the edge of the highest balcony, standing barefoot on the metal railing. Firemen and police were only dim shadows in the hotel room beyond, as close as they could get to the troubled teenager.

"He has no wings," Princess Luna said. "This is not a flight."

It was, in a way. Seconds later, the teenager flew straight down. Amie looked away, but there was no hiding from the sound, the splatter mixed with hard crunching. The firemen missed.

"Blythe, with me!" Simmons didn't hesitate for a second, darting past stunned onlookers towards the crumpled body.

Amie was powerless but to obey, going through the same motions she had that night. She ran for the stretcher, helped load the broken pieces of a kid into it, and spent a ten-minute hospital ride struggling in vain to fight the bleeding.

Amie sat on the curb, clutching the fiery embers of a cigarette. She didn't smoke, hadn't really known what to do with it. But she held it anyway. It was either that, or clutch her bloody knees, rocking back and forth.

"Kid," Simmons called, approaching with a pair of steaming cups. "Don't worry, it's not coffee. Stimulants are the last thing you need right now."

She took it and sipped. Creamy hot chocolate, warm enough to scald her tongue. It did little to fight the cold. Amie tossed her cigarette, smeared it out with one black boot. "Easy shift, easy life," she repeated, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Hell of a first night." He settled down beside her, nursing his own cup. Its contents were blacker than hers and smelled sharper. "Bastard shouldn't have done that. Not to his family, not to his friends—and not to you." He clasped her shoulder, squeezing firm through the jacket. "Wasn't your fault, kid. He made his choice up on the balcony. What happened after—as inevitable as the tide. Nothing you could've done."

She sniffed, fighting to keep her voice level. Memory or not, it hurt as much as the first time. Crushing heartbreak, the empty cold of dead eyes staring up from a broken body. "How can you be so... calm? Don't you care?"

He released her shoulder. "Of course I do, Blythe. Why do you think I keep this god-awful job? You have to care, or you won't fight as hard as you should. The people who call us—they're one wrong decision away from joining that kid. Make the right ones, and more of them get to go home."

He reached down under his collar, exposing a little wooden cross that hung there. "Greater love hath no man than this, Rookie. I saw you fight like hell back there. Services need more people like you."

He stood, slipping the necklace back under his collar. "Take another minute if you have to. Then we've got to get you out of those. Shower's waiting." He left, vanishing into the dark hospital behind them. Another figure appeared in the parking lot, heedless of the flow of traffic.

There was no traffic anymore. They were frozen, in shimmering amber streetlight under a bright red cross. "Your greatest failure. No failed conquest, no revenge unseized."

Amie tossed the cup aside, turning out her hands. She was still crying—the pain of this moment came as raw as the last time. "There's still blood. That's what you wanted, isn't it? There's death on my shoulders, like you wanted. I lied."

She couldn't sense the horse's emotions, or even see her face through her tears. Her voice remained unreadable, firm. "EMT is..."

"Emergency Medical Technician," Amie finished. "If they thought the kid would jump, they would've sent someone else. Was supposed to be... an easy shift. Didn't want to scare me off." She laughed, her voice stretching past pain to madness. "Thought I would quit, they all did. They were wrong."

The princess spread her wings. Yet the regal confidence that had previously filled her was gone. "Failure does not cut so deeply as the others, even for the guilty. Your sorrow will dig deeper into the wicked soul." Light flashed, and the parking lot vanished.

Amie hid behind a rock. She was thin from hunger, breathless with fear. All the worse since those feelings would draw her attackers to her. They had the same powers she did, after all.

“Run, Wes! Get as far away from here as you can!”

Tears streamed down his face. He rushed towards her, embracing her in the silly horse-way she was used to, resting his head on her neck. “I love you, Amie. You gotta live through this.”

“I love you too, Wes.” She shoved him back as hard as she could, ankle-deep in the river. “Now run! We’re out of time!”

He scampered away into the darkness, leaving Amie to cower in the cold.

"I recognize this place," said a voice that didn't belong there. The princess stood ankle-deep in the water, where she would be in plain view of Amie's attackers. They were getting close now, struggling down the slope. "This is the border of your mountain. Your sorrow—it's here. The night you killed a loyal soldier of Equestria, and almost slew another."

Amie let the shotgun rest in the mud. She already knew she wouldn't need it. "This is the night," she agreed. Fear surged in her, the same desperation that had filled her that night. It was like poison, flowing despite her knowledge. This was only a memory—she already knew the outcome. Yet still she feared.

“It won’t work!” someone yelled, from the other side of the river. “You could try that back on Earth, maybe! But this is Transit! You might as well glow in the dark!”

She crouched lower, curling up against the rock. A few shots went just over her head, whizzing uselessly into the distance.

“I don’t want to fight you!” she yelled back. “Just let us leave!”

It hadn't worked the last time, and it didn't now. The violence of their assault attracted attention that none of the bugs could've seen coming. "For Equestria!"

Then came the battle. Amie hadn't seen it then, and she didn't see it now, keeping her head down and away from the combatants. Luna watched in silence, her spectral form leaving no ripples in the river.

They shouted and raged at her, slaying Gale. But in the end, Tailslide was victorious. He stumbled to the riverbed, pierced with buckshot and leaving a bloody trail behind him.

"They gave no warning," the princess whispered, barely audible to her over the memory. "Attacked on sight."

"Commander Path's orders," Amie muttered back, bitter. "We're monsters. Giving us a chance to talk might let us use our mind control on them."

She hadn't left Tailslide to die once, and she didn't now. She emerged from behind the rock, moving slowly. "The shot must’ve grazed an artery. You’ll bleed to death unless we can close it.”

He spun on her, and his dagger tumbled to the ground. “K-kill me then… monster. Like you killed… Guardsmare Gale. Murder us for protecting our home.”

She set her gun down. "Easy. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

The memory replayed exactly as she remembered. Unlike the last one, Amie didn't lose her patient. She finally stitched up the person she was working on, leaving the first aid kit mostly empty. Only when she was finished did she make her way back over to the river, where the corpses still lay. One fallen pony, and the remains of bugs caught under the water.

"This is your sorrow," said the moon princess, indignant. "Why?"

"Those assholes—the ones who came after me. Could've gone different for them. They thought they were saving their camp. Gale here—she was the same way. But because both of them thought killing was the only way to keep their home safe, they're dead. Because... because of me. Because I wouldn't let them hurt Wes. If I stayed, they would all be alive."

She couldn't know that, of course—she couldn't know how different camp would be if she remained. She was still the one to run, the reason they fell.

The princess finally stood, striding out of the river. "I fear I have... this may be a terrible error, Amie Blythe. Yet I am powerless to turn the blade aside. One strike remains, the swiftest judge of every soul. Your guilt awaits."

Light blinded her one last time.

She was back in camp, a world and a week earlier. She held a microphone in hand, singing to some folk melody or another. Marcus played his guitar, Beth was on the drums, and a few of the other kids did their best to contribute with cowbell, maracas, or whatever other nonsense they could scavenge.

It wasn't the worst performance in the world, though it was pretty bad. But none of the other kids packed into the assembly building seemed to care. They were all terrible, she wasn't guilty about that.

She glanced to both sides, searching for one of her campers in particular. Wes wasn't on the stage—he lingered just behind the curtains, clutching his own guitar in shaking fingers.

Amie didn't think—she passed her microphone to Lily, and stepped off the stage. She rested one hand on his shoulder, urging him towards the stage. "Come on! Everyone performs on the first night!"

Wes pulled forcefully away from her, retreating. He replied in the same hushed whisper, muffled by the performance behind them. "No, Amie. I hate it here. I don't have any friends, I hate the bugs, I hate the sleeping bags, I hate it all." He released the guitar, which hung loosely from the strap. "Called Mom. Said I can get a ride home tomorrow."

Amie barely even saw the ghostly princess. If there was ever a memory she wanted desperately to change, it was this one. But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn't force the words she wanted to say. 'Do it! I'll help you pack! Get as far away from here as possible! I shouldn't have pressured you to come with me!'

Her lips moved against her will. "Lots of kids feel like that on their first night, bro." She wrapped one arm around his shoulder, squeezing tight. "You're not the first one to get overwhelmed. But I think you can do this—you can make friends!"

He was silent for a few seconds, looking back at her. "You... really think so? I've never been very good at it."

"Here you will, promise. There's something special about being stuck somewhere awful with people. You bond over shared suffering. Like you could do right now, by getting up onto the stage with us." She let go, grinning mischievously. "I promise to do the whole last verse out of key, watch!"

He followed her back onto the stage. She sang awfully, truly terribly, so badly that the front row gawked and stared in disbelief. Her own group was so busy laughing that even Wes forgot his anxiety.

Then the music stopped. The audience froze, drifting out of focus like a distant cloud. Only Luna remained, towering over her even while Amie had a stage to stand on. "I do not even understand this moment. I saw... nothing. No monsters."

This time, the tears were new. Amie had only left that night feeling satisfied, and relieved that her little brother would give Stella Lacus a second chance. "He shouldn't be banished here. My brother—he's only in danger because of me. All I had to do was let him leave. He doesn't deserve to be hunted. He didn't hurt anyone."

The stage vanished, taking her memories with it. Amie was on four legs again, weak against the uneven black rock. She was still crying, though.

The spell burned past her again, bringing a fresh wave of heat and pain. It faded rapidly this time, gone before she could blink.

"Neither did you, Amie Blythe. This judgment is concluded with your innocence. May Harmony forgive me."

Chapter 75

Amie woke underground, surrounded by terrified faces. She sat up violently, alertness returning instantly. More like the spell itself was an attack, suppressed only by her pregnancy until that moment.

She saw Tailslide first, then Mrs. Sobol, and at least a dozen of the “workers.” Despite their concern, no one got within ten feet of her, watching from well outside her ability to reach out and touch them.

But it was the pony who spoke first. "She's awake!" He reached for her, then stopped short, eyes snapping back to the stone beneath her. Amie followed his gaze, and soon found what frightened so many of her bugs.

The ground around her nest was covered in burning, glowing marks, the same she recognized from her casual study of unicorn magic. As she watched, they faded away, leaving lines scored a few centimeters into the ground. Where the pillows and sleeping bags crossed over, the spell melted right through.

But now the light faded, until it was dimmer than the propane spotlight Mrs. Sobol had brought.

"Impossible. That spell would kill her. No changeling could survive it." That was Kaya of course, watching through Natane as usual. Someone must've called her when the attack began. Not a bad idea, though it clearly hadn't gone anywhere. The queen had done nothing, until the spell ran its course.

Amie didn't feel bloated anymore. She wasn't stretched, swollen with eggs, or even in the post-birth recovery of a human mother. When she stood, her legs felt a little longer, the room a little smaller, but that was all. "She tried," Amie said, shaking out her mane. She smelled every bit as bad as an all-day birth suggested, though. Trapped in a spell, there was nothing her bugs could do for her.

"The princess... tried. Too bad for her, the spell she used wasn't just an assassination. They only wanted to judge the guilty. Turns out I don't qualify."

She stepped out, crossing over the fading spell diagram cut into the rock. As soon as she did, the remaining trapped light went out, without visible effect. Relief passed through the crowd, even her watching workers. Were they reflecting her own feelings back at her, or was this more? There were still campers and staff in there, deep down.

Tailslide embraced her, heedless of all the watching bugs. The depth of his relief went a long way towards restoring her strength, in a way that awful nightmare never could. "Thought it was the end. What the SMILE agent said... She was wrong."

She met his eyes, tears streaming down her face. "She wasn't wrong, Tailslide. Princess Luna... tried to execute me. There was this whole... judgment. Used my own memories. Failure, sorrow, and guilt. It hurt, being reminded of all the worst things that happened to me. But it wasn't the kind of pain that kills someone. Just..." She wiped her tears against his coat. It did little to help—he was just as covered in sweat and grime as she was.

"This does not match with... any of my experience on this matter. All who have been struck by similar spells before have fallen. But if Luna had your True Name, if she could find you with her dagger... I must speak to the Elders. This changes much."

Natane twitched, then her expression turned to confusion. "I am... oh. You've delivered, honored queen. I am happy to see it went well. Perhaps I should... return to the upper levels for the time being."

Amie nodded her permission. "Do that. I think my hunters in training still have questions for you."

The guest bug departed, leaving Amie surrounded by her own swarm. And Tailslide. But if any pony could cross that boundary, it was him.

She wanted time to be alone with him, and finally she had a chance to get it. After satisfying Mrs. Sobol that there were no leftover complications from her delivery, and one long tour through the hive. Rumors of her suffering some crippling illness or even death were already flowing, and she had to stop those before they could fester.

With her renewed health came a new flood of confidence to her bugs. She didn't explain what had really happened—no reason to fill them with fear over unknown enemies who could kill them from afar. Despite all that Amie had suffered in the process, Luna's attempt on her life was probably a good thing. She had denied Amie before, refused to believe what she said. But Amie still remembered her face, saw the despair mixed with certainty.

One of Equestria's diarch's knew about Amie's bugs. The princess had seen her world—seen the humanity of her campers before the Transit cursed them to be parasites. If anything could facilitate diplomacy between Stella Lacus and Equestria, this was it.

It was early morning by the time she was finally out of the mine. She'd rinsed off the worst of the dirt, but still felt disgusting in a way only hot water and caustic soap could cure. There was a place she could go for that, and a pony to go with her.

She resisted the temptation to be a bat again, if only because Tailslide's flying experience was useless on featherless wings. "Explain it again," she asked. "Half the kids can fly, and I can't. It's embarrassing!"

One lesson was hardly enough to learn such a complex skill. But Amie's determination was powerful now. With Tailslide's advice, she got off the ground more than once, fluttering up the freeway towards camp in short spurts. At least she had a wide, clear area to practice on, with plenty of space to correct mistakes.

Tailslide had never entered the camp's borders before. He landed as they approached, moving closer to her on the gravel road. Part of that was exhaustion—the pony had slept even less than she had, and needed it much more. But she felt his fear, even so.

"We watched this place from above... wondered what terrible things you were doing. Saw you kill things. You took animals into your kitchen and ate them. Sure they won't do that to me?"

Amie rolled her eyes. "If you really thought that you would've stayed in Agate. We... we did have to hunt to survive. Rabbits, squirrels, raccoons, badgers, fish, birds..." She trailed off, looking away from him. "It's not what we're made for. It tasted awful, like all the terror and pain was frozen there in the seconds before they died. If I get my way, none of us will ever have to eat that again."

She rested up against him, slowing her pace. "Most campers have already moved into the mine. Now that they know how much Equestria hates us... it's mostly deserted up here. They make trips to carry things down, but that's it. The kids were already living in tents—a roof over their head is an improvement, even if it's made of rock."

The camp itself showed signs of this hasty evacuation. Many tents had blown over, or been dismantled completely, leaving naked wooden platforms where they once stood. Old human clothing, blankets, and other trash littered the gravel road, lost by campers making a hasty retreat.

There were still lights on in the multipurpose building, and the staff offices. Not the counselor’s cabin, which was the important thing. They reached the door, and Amie eased it open, flicking the lights on with her nose.

"Why is it all so... big?" Tailslide lingered in the doorway, sniffing. But for the intervening months since Amie's departure, the staff cabin had changed little. The downstairs was a huge breakroom/living room, where councilors could relax and recover from their difficult childcare responsibilities. Someone had left the TV on, playing through endless reruns of Nate's Stargate DVD collection. At least they didn't have a copy of Alien.

"Doesn't feel big when you look like we did." She gestured at the largest photograph framed on the wall, a huge “all staff” gathering taken at the beginning of the season. They were all smiling then, oblivious of the horrors waiting for them. "Felt pretty cramped in here. Shower's upstairs, come on."

He followed, glancing furtively to either side as they moved. "Aren't you worried..."

"What, that someone's hiding here?" She giggled. "Right. You can't... I can feel them." She tapped her head with one hoof. "There are no other changelings in this building. I'm not sure how long we have. But it has its own hot water, and that's the important thing."

All of Amie's problems weren't gone just because Equestria didn't kill her. But at least for a few hours, she could put them aside, and focus on something a little more familiar.

She stayed with Tailslide while he recovered, resting on one of many abandoned beds. With bugs who could go for days on a brief nap, they just didn't occupy the same position of significance to the campers.

While he rested, Amie could still visit the mine, watching through the eyes of workers as construction continued and supplies flowed inside. Her real fear—that Equestria was only waiting for Luna's spell to begin an all-out attack—didn't come true that day, or the next.

They returned to the mine before evening. Amie spent most of the trip in the air, albeit only gliding. But Tailslide was a good teacher, and she was a determined student. All she really needed was time, and she could rectify that missing skill.

She said her goodbyes to Tailslide the next morning. Amie hardly wanted him to leave—but his plan just made too much sense to ignore.

"The SMILE agent needs to know I'm okay. And if she doesn't know what happened with Princess Luna's spell, I'll tell her that too. It feels like we're so close! Equestria... might not understand you any better than before, but some of its leaders do. That's enough to start!"

"I hope so. Check in on the hunters while you're there, too. Just... be careful with Marcus."

The pegasus spread both wings, lifting off into the parking lot. "Why?"

"Pretty sure he... has a thing for me," she finished lamely. "And he's a changeling, he can sense your feelings for me."

Tailslide shrugged his wings. "Sure. But you should talk to him too. He should know that we're together." He took off, flying low over the road. Just because Amie couldn't see any watching pony patrol in the sky didn't mean there wasn't one. Tailslide would have to fly as carefully as any of her ponies, if he didn't want to end up captured and imprisoned by Commander Path.

Amie had more pressing concerns than one hunter with feelings for her, anyway. Wes's team had definitely reached Canterlot by then, and was probably waiting for her to step in and visit Ivy. Amie had put that off long enough.

So long as everyone still had enough to eat, she didn't have to worry about the camp decomposing into violent rebellion at any second. She had ponies she trusted to guard her quarters, while she strained her powers beyond anything she had used before. It was time to visit Canterlot.

She expected the transition to be difficult, and Amie wasn't disappointed. Even with her body healed and the privacy of her upstairs office, it took her considerable time and effort.

But Amie knew it was possible. If Kaya could reach Natane, then Amie could extend her influence to Canterlot. In the end, her success didn't come from endless focus and concentration, or even magical power expended. But when she reached, she found someone reaching back. Beth wanted to be found in that moment, strong enough for Amie to find her at last.

Beth wasn't in a good position, but boiling over with stress and anxiety. It took more of her will to push her mind through all that. She had to confront those feelings, accept them for herself, and give Beth a chance to rest.

There was no conversation between them—but Beth recognized her presence, and didn't fight her the way many of the bugs she healed had fought. She was used to this by now.

"Amie's going to be furious with us, Beth. Letting Wes leave on his own... we should've gone after him."

She was in a tiny, dirty room, with a single narrow bed off to one side. A naked bulb in the ceiling filled the room with yellow light.

"Beth? We could still catch the express, try to follow him."

Amie changed, leaving the simple pegasus form Beth had used, and retaking one she hadn't used in weeks—Rain Fly, the pony who first made friends with Ivy. "Hello, Rick. Sorry I took so long." She stretched, but the gesture just wasn't as satisfying without wings. "What did you say about my brother?"

Chapter 77

Amie pushed the book closed in front of her, darting across the room to meet the waiting pony. She had rarely felt such negativity coming from one creature before, let alone someone she cared about. But real ponies had much stronger feelings than any of her bugs, even when the difficulties they suffered through weren't as severe.

"Are you okay, Ivy? I knew you hated reading, but I didn't think it would be that bad."

The unicorn shut the door behind her with a little magic, but otherwise kept her distance from Amie. "I knew the transition would be difficult. Coming to Canterlot—I knew it would be bucking awful. But I volunteered to do it anyway, because I thought I was on an important mission to help a friend."

Thought. That word stuck into Amie's mind, sharper than any of the negativity boiling from this mare. She'd seen none of it in the letter—but Ivy had sent that almost two weeks ago. Was it the delay that cost her so much goodwill, or something else?

Amie took another tentative step forward, but no further. With each one, the unicorn grew tenser. This was supposed to be a happy reunion with a good friend, not angry and bitter! "I haven't had a chance to read it all yet. But what I saw—it looks like you found what I needed. There's a thousand people who will call you a hero for doing this... more! It's not just my campers, but their families who get them back."

"Of course they will." Ivy flicked her tail, making her slow way across the room towards a mostly empty desk. There was a single slim folio there, one she hadn't noticed with the obvious stack of important books on the other side. "This whole story was always so dramatic. They're starving. There are thousands of them. You'll save the whole world, Ivy. Just do exactly what your dad always wanted, and you'll save the day."

Amie trailed after her, glancing once at the shut library door. This much negativity coming from one pony, and she couldn't even identify specific emotions through the morass. She had never even felt many of these from another creature before, and it took some guesswork to identify what they might be.

Betrayal. "Bet you thought I would never figure it out, didn't you? I would be off to Canterlot, you get your paycheck, and another contract gets filed away complete. Isn't that right?"

I shouldn't be here. Amie looked back at the way she'd come, judging the distance to the exit. She could outrun Ivy, probably—but there were soldiers here. She felt the house guards filling this place, at least a dozen of them, all tense and alert. Even if she could get out of the library, she'd never escape this place. She hadn't brought weapons, and wouldn't use them on random guards who were just protecting their family in any case. All she had was a digital camera, to capture whatever pages of lore that Ivy found.

"I never lied about anything important, Ivy. My position in Stella Lacus—the people depending on me, the help you could give us—it's the truth. It's truer now than ever." She backed away, towards the pile of research Ivy had gathered. "If there's enough here to recreate this research—or maybe if that specialist you wrote about can help—it could save lives."

"Save lives," Ivy repeated, bitter. She flicked the folder open, paging through it. "My father sent me here to take on the family's responsibilities. His attitude is so... backwards, so tribal. He thinks that a unicorn doesn't belong on the battlefield, they should be managing affairs from behind the lines. Say, his finances."

She lifted up a stack of sheets from within, turning them towards Amie. "Like these receipts from something called the Agate Rent-a-Friend.The place that failures and losers go when they don't have anypony to talk to. Special contract for family member. Are you going to lie about this too? Want me to go over the dates?" Tears streamed down her face. Her voice cracked, tone faltering. She wasn't even looking at Amie anymore.

Amie almost fled. She would have, but that would leave Beth here, confused and defenseless. Whatever portion of Beth's awareness was still there, it came with desperate need for help, terror that she would be abandoned. I won't.

"That's how it started," Amie said. "When we first met—it was a job, like the contract says. But that's not how it stayed! Do you really think I would tell you everything over a contract? Your dad's soldiers killed the last campers they found! You're my friend, Ivy. Does it matter if it started as something else?"

Ivy sniffed, then wiped away the tears with her leg. Amie still didn't taste anything edible coming from her, but at least some of the anger was gone. "If we were friends, why did your truth mean convincing me to do exactly what my dad paid you to do? I bet you're not even a changeling. What kind of illusion spell did you use?"

"It's not an illusion!" There was one advantage to a house without windows—there was no one else to see. Amie changed, abandoning her disguise and retaking Beth's natural, drone shape.

The pony recoiled from her. Shock and fear overpowered the maelstrom of her other emotions, however briefly. "I didn't even suggest going back to Canterlot, you did! I never would've asked for something that was... obviously painful for you. I was gonna come here and do the research myself. You thought I would get caught, remember?"

Her wings buzzed with the anxiety of two bugs instead of one. She actually lifted off the ground, hovering a few inches higher so she was at Ivy's eye-level. Amie couldn't hover, let alone with insect wings. But Beth could.

Amie was crying too. The guilt of one betrayal might have eased in the execution that didn't kill her, but this one was fresh. Unlike her brother, Ivy was still hurt, and had been for weeks. "I should've told you sooner. I thought it wouldn't matter, and I was wrong. But if it was all lies and I didn't care, why would I be here right now? Why bother coming back to collect this research I didn't need? Canterlot hates changelings! This is where the evil ones attacked. If Agate can't tell the difference, these ponies sure won't."

Ivy had no answer. She stared back, expression an unreadable mess of pain. "You have to go, Amie. Right now. Before—"

The wall behind her banged open, revealing a secret door concealed there. Amie stared open-mouthed as four ponies poured out, spears drawn and aimed at her.

I didn't sense them! She backed away, mouth hanging open in pure stupefaction. Even now, with the ponies right before her eyes and anger visible under their helmets, she sensed nothing at all.

"Back away, miss. We'll take it from here." One soldier shoved Ivy back, while the others surrounded Amie, cutting her off from either doorway, or any route of escape.

Terror flared in her, overwhelming her. Beth wanted to fly away right now, to soar over their heads and through the open passage.

No! Amie crushed that desire, overwhelming the girl with all the will she could command. They'll kill you! They'd rather kill a bug than let you escape! She dropped to the ground in front of them, wings falling still.

"Don't hurt her!" Ivy called, voice strained and desperate. "I don't even know if she's a real changeling! My father would never hire one of them..."

"Magister will find the truth of that," said the same soldier as before. He had a fancier blue frill on his helmet. He was also the one to command the other guards, gesturing them back towards the door. "You've done a great service for Equestria, Miss Path. This infiltration is dead before it could begin."

He tossed something onto the ground at Amie's hooves—a set of heavy iron manacles, with a faintly glowing crystal on the links between them. "Put those on, prisoner. If you resist, if you fight, if you try to transform—my stallions here will kill you. Do you understand?"

Stay calm, Beth. I know this is happening. I'm going to get you out of this. But you have to stay alive until I can rescue you. Amie nodded slowly to the guard, then advanced two slow hoofsteps, close enough to reach the manacles. "I am not an infiltrator. I only came to do magical research... that's all."

The guard smacked his spear into the ground in front of her, loud and hard enough to stop her dead. "We're not interested in your lies, prisoner. You will answer the magister's questions. Until then, do not speak. Only obey."

Amie obeyed in silence. House guards arrived to escort Ivy away, rushing her down the hall and out of sight. Amie caught one last guilty look in her eyes, and then she was gone.

There were restraints for both sets of legs, linked closely enough together that she could only awkwardly shuffle forward. Once they were bound, another soldier produced a cloth strap, which they wrapped tightly around Amie's wings. Not hard enough to hurt—this wasn't a torture device. But if she tried to fly away, that might change.

Amie tried to reach out, probing for Rick. He would be close, their only chance to make a real escape. Yet she felt nothing—not him, not the emotions of the ponies all around her. The horror settled on her all at once, a single overwhelming wave.

I'm stuck. I can't go back and send help! What would happen to her real body, resting in the nest? How long could Stella Lacus keep going without her? Her wings twitched with anxiety, but only ached against her restraints. There was no easy escape from this.

She marched solemnly along at the commands of angry royal guards, struggling to keep ahead of their spear points. But she said nothing, not to these men. Stay calm, Beth. They're going to take us to the princess. All we have to do is see Luna. She already judged me once; she's not going to kill me now.

There was no response, at least not in words. But she felt something from the bug, just beneath the surface. Beth's thoughts were like a dream from days before, remembered only vaguely. It was enough to keep them calm all the way out onto the streets of Canterlot.

A crowd of ponies gathered there, lining just outside the Path gates. Ponies muttered and whispered to each other, pointing at Amie as they marched her down the sidewalk. A prison wagon was already waiting there, heavy iron bars far too close together for even a small bug to squeeze through. Ivy was planning this. She had the Royal Guard waiting for the right moment.

She had trusted in her changeling powers to sense when ponies were aggressive—but they had both fooled her. The guards with some unknown magical defense, and Ivy—through her own naivete. She had felt the girl's pain. But by then, it was already too late.

"This infiltration ends here!" the stallion ahead of her shouted, as they stepped out onto the street. "Noble citizens of our illustrious city, go to your homes in confidence! Canterlot will not be victimized again!"

It was right for Amie to bear their ridicule, instead of Beth. Trapped or not, it was better for the other bug not to have memories of this nightmare. The princesses ruled from this city—one of them would come for her, then she could explain. She just had to endure a little longer.

"Let her go!" A scream shook the crowd, loud enough that ponies turned to stare. The guards stopped their advance, though they put up their weapons. No one wanted to risk piercing a citizen of Canterlot with their spears.

A pegasus shoved his way through from the back, spreading out both wings to be as large as possible. The gentry of Canterlot clearly didn't know what to make of him, and scattered out of his way, losing purses and canes into the gutter. "Let her go!"

"Get away!" Amie screamed back, terrified. She wasn't sure where those words came from—but come they did, without her meaning to. "Leave!"

Either Rick didn't hear her, or he didn't care. He reached the nearest royal guard, then shoved against him, pushing the stallion aside. Or he tried, anyway. The pony's bewilderment wore off, and he tensed, widening his stance. Rick stumbled back, overpowered.

"This must be her accomplice!" the officer yelled, as loud as Rick's own. "Bring him in for interrogation!"

Amie felt hot tears on her face, tears of frustration and fear and rage all blended together. They weren't hers, but they still clouded her vision.

But no number of tears could hide what happened next.

Rick shoved again, attacking with more energy than the little nerd could possibly hold. Two other guards closed in around him, smacking down with the sides of their spears. He kept coming. "Let... her... go!"

Light exploded from around him, lifting the nearest guards up into the air and sending them flying down the street. The jail-cart rocked to one side under the force, and even Amie went stumbling back. There was no pegasus flying there beside the cart—but he wasn't a changeling drone either.

She could still see some of Rick there—but he was transformed, shedding black armor for bright greens and purples, and a shiny beetle's carapace to cover his wings. For one awed moment he hovered there, radiating magical power as Amie and the watching ponies could barely imagine.

Until a spear pierced his side, and he tumbled out of the air like a rock.

Chapter 78

Amie barely saw what happened next. Terrified ponies, an ambulance wagon, and dozens of guards swarming in from all sides. Rick's bloody form vanished behind a wall of armor, while others shoved her into a metal car.

Beth's presence was almost as thoroughly removed from her view as the workers she usually used, so withdrawn that she felt nothing from her anymore. She saw the spear, felt the magic just as Amie had—and now faded into despair. But while she could retreat, the queen farcasting into her body had no such recourse.

Amie tried, and not just out of fear or pain. The bugs of Agate needed warning—Ivy had betrayed them! It wouldn't be long before someone discovered the connection to the Rent-a-Friend, and soldiers appeared to search the place. If only Amie could reach the worker she kept there for that reason, she could warn them to flee. The manacles around her hooves prevented that. She would have to trust to Marcus to keep the hunters safe, if it came to that.

Time meant little in the armored car. Ponies stared, soldiers marched, and castle walls rose up around her. Eventually they reached a ramp, and descended underground. Then they stopped, and more soldiers escorted her through stone tunnels and shadowy spaces.

"Not like them," one guard observed, prodding at her with the butt of a spear. "They fought like animals last time. She's not clawing her legs off to attack us."

Amie looked up, then met the soldier's eyes. An orange pegasus, with streaks of blue mane emerging from his helmet. "Tell Princess Luna that Amie Blythe is here. Please."

"Amie," he repeated, backing away. "What kind of name is that?"

"Back to your post, soldier." That was the same officer. Amie wasn't sure if he was the one who stabbed Rick, it was impossible to tell what was happening through the chaos. Could she even blame the ponies for reacting so violently? The bug had attacked them, not the other way around.

I promised to get you all home. I said I would protect you, and I failed. Worst of all, Amie couldn't whisper to herself that this wasn't her fault, couldn't claim that powers beyond her control had struck while she wasn't there to protect them. These bugs were only here because they followed her orders. Rick would never see his family again now. If events continued as grimly as they were, Beth might not either.

She had no energy left to fight. Amie watched the passages they took, memorizing every turn and twist. She could do that much, carefully tracking the path in case she had a chance to escape. There was something about being underground that made space very easy to remember.

Eventually they came to a large, open room, with a vaulted ceiling and a heavy metal door. A ring of carved runes encircled the center, which contained all she might expect from a cell. The stone floor had been carved into a cot, along with a simple open privy and a faucet steadily dripping water into a trough. Yet there were no walls or doors around it, just the marks.

"Inside," the officer ordered, pointing. "If you continue to cooperate, the magister may choose to remove your restraints. I... can't believe I'm giving you instructions. A changeling. We actually took one prisoner."

Amie advanced into the indicated spot, then turned to face him. As she expected, the soldier didn't follow her in. That meant he wasn't close enough to smack her again. "I don't belong to the tribe that invaded your city. We don't want to fight Equestria, we just want to go home."

He laughed, removing his helmet and holding it in a gentle magical glow. "Don't want to fight? What do you call what just happened?"

She could make no argument, of course. Rick's attack had spoiled the peaceful surrender strategy she employed. But at least Beth was still alive. If they removed her restraints, Amie could start working on a rescue plan. Somehow. "He loved her. At his age, I—I should've realized. This is all my fault."

She had realized that the two cared for each other, of course. But puppy love and heroic self-sacrifice were far, far apart.

"We can agree on one thing." He touched one hoof against the wall, and the ground began to glow, burning a steady purple. "This barrier is not kind to the guilty we hold here. Stay away from the walls, and it won't hurt you. The magister is already on his way."

He turned, marching back out the way he'd come. In the halls beyond, cheering and celebration shook the castle. Amie needed no magic to sense their triumph. These ponies thought they were heroes—thought they'd just stopped an invasion before it began. Rick probably thought he was a hero too.

Amie had no guidepost to judge the passage of time. She squirmed against her restraints, trying to wiggle a hoof free. They squeezed firmly, just as the straps along her back. In her solitude, she did take some time to inspect the other contents of the room, arranged along the walls.

Many shelves and boxes stacked there, carrying various arcane implements. Whether those metal tools were instruments of torture, or magical sensors, she couldn't know.

The cell itself was plenty big enough to walk around in. The space was warm, and the water tasted clean. But under all the smells of damp stone and mildew, the lingering metallic tang of blood never quite faded.

Finally, the heavy iron door opened again. A unicorn strode in, dressed very differently from the armored soldiers. He wore a simple black robe, with white and gold stitching decorating its length. His mane was cut short, and a black patch covered one eye.

He slammed the door shut behind him, then lowered a bar into place there, locking it securely. His horn flashed once, faint purple the same shade as the glowing diagrams surrounding her. When the light faded, so did all the sound of pony voices from outside. She heard no more marching hooves, no more cheers, or celebratory conversations.

There was only this one pony, approaching slowly. He stopped just past the barrier, lighting his horn to a steady glow. "I would welcome you to Canterlot, but I think we both know it could've been under better circumstances. I find myself disappointed in the cleverness of your scheme."

"Because it wasn't a scheme." Amie looked up, meeting the pony's single green eye. "I came to see a pony I thought was my friend. She had some magical research for me. I was going to write down what she learned and leave, that's all."

The magister settled onto his haunches, expression flat and unreadable. But now that Amie needed her emotional senses most, enchantment took them from her.

"I believe you. What I do not believe is how your tribe could be so monumentally, unimaginably stupid. Centuries since the Orange bugs arrived on this planet—I would expect the Homeworld to advance at least a little in all that time. Yet here you sit in chains, captured by the scheme of a child."

The defense Amie had been preparing choked back in her throat, fading to incoherent muttering. It wasn't that the unicorn had switched languages, it was all perfectly clear. She'd never known a pony to use those words, let alone understand any of what he implied.

"You're... Kaya sent you to rescue me?" Amie guessed. "But you were already here..."

The “unicorn” broke into cruel, bitter laughter. He backed away from the cage. "I don't belong to her tribe, prisoner. If you think those who sent me would reward your failure with assistance, you're sorely mistaken."

He stood, advancing on her. He stepped over the glowing diagram, which lit up as he moved, without other visible effect. He loomed over her, as any adult pony would over a young bug. "Welcome to Equus. If your queen can see this, I hope she learns this lesson, and learns it quickly. There is no mercy here—no kindness, no compassion. When we were brought here, the transition stripped us of some invisible, essential element universal to all men.

"The barbarians who infest this planet possess it, yet we do not. Two paths exist before us, both chosen in equal measure. Those bugs without ambition—Kaya, and her brood, choose to remain in secrecy, surrounded by rich harvests of glamour. If you wished to follow that path, you are doing it wrong. Your nest is known to them, their army marshals to exterminate you."

He held down on her wings with magical force, pressing her into a sitting position before him. Then he shoved, turning her to one side, inspecting the colored fin down her back. "The other path—the wiser path—is dominion. The Empress empowered her legions to do this thing, and establish their sovereignty. Retain control with your citizen army, and harvest the necessary joy from the population. Barbarians are so easy to entertain, with a little bread and a performance."

Amie shifted her manacles, fighting against the metal there. It did little good—but then something slipped, and the straps around her wings tumbled away. They opened involuntarily, buzzing with energy. "I ask though I already know. You are green, not blue. Chrysalis did not send you in another foolish attempt at conquest. A sad thing—our most ancient cousins, twisted by madness. Nothing of civilization remains in them. But I do see some of it in you, just as I have in the photographs of your war camp. The Homeworld does move."

If he's a changeling, he can feel my emotions. The magister lacked her physical restraints, or the magical handicap they imposed. Amie would need to keep calm, as logical as the strictest Vulcan. Her brother could handle the roleplaying—she wasn't sure she could.

"The invader didn't send me. I came from the United States—Camp Stella Lacus."

The unicorn stiffened, circling around to face her again. "Intellegis?"

She nodded once, though it wasn't quite true. "Si?"

"Cīvis Rōmānus?"

That wasn't Spanish. Amie did recognize it, but never by quite that pronunciation. Now if only she had paid more attention in Latin during senior year. Rick would know. Too bad they stabbed him. "Ita!"

The unicorn backed away, passing as easily over the barrier as he entered. Gone was the satisfaction from his face, or even the curiosity. "Mē paenitet." He turned away, pacing rapidly to a shelf covered in heavy bottles. He levitated several up into the air, accelerating with every step.

"Don't belong here," he finally said, stopping beside the barrier. "The Equestrians will interrogate you. Communicate my regrets to your queen, if you can."

"You left my manacles on," Amie said, shuffling over to the barrier. "They suppress my magic, I'm sure you know. I can't communicate anything."

"Vērō." Something clicked, and they fell away from her forelegs. Her back legs remained trapped, dragging the other chains along behind them. He levitated both heavy bottles across the barrier, and turned them over, pouring them out onto the stone.

Amie recoiled reflexively, shielding her face with one wing. None touched her, but the smell did. Harsh, chemical. Oil. Judging by the shelves, there were gallons of it stored here.

"Now, listen. Diutissime exspectavimus. Ignosce mortem civis tui. Nesciebamus te esse Romanum. Si bello superstes, nuncium mittemus."

The queen of green bugs got the message—but that didn't mean Amie understood it. A word or two stuck out, something about death, and “Roman.” But past that, fear and ignorance obscured any meaning she might have otherwise extracted.

"The only mercy I can give is protecting you from interrogation. The princess would extract all that you know, she cannot be resisted." He yanked with magic, and several more jugs of liquid floated off the shelf. He tossed a few into the circle, while just dropping others all around it, shattering them and filling the room with oil.

"You can't!" Amie hopped up onto the stone bench, trailing chain behind her. "The queen has a plan to deal with the princess! Don't do this!"

The unicorn hardly seemed like he was listening anymore. His feelings came muted and pale, like every other bug she knew. There was enough to sense his determination, his certainty. He removed a candle from a drawer, then ignited it with a little flash of magic. He sliced away at the bottom with a dagger, so only a tiny fraction of wick remained. He set it down beside a large puddle of oil.

"I haven't forgotten about the other captive. I will ensure the surgeons do not save him." His horn flashed, one last burst of searing purple—leaving Amie alone with the candle, and a room filled with oil.

Chapter 79

The fire burned low, devouring the wick with rapid speed. "Help! Anypony, please!" Amie screamed, lifting her voice as loud as she could manage. But no answer came—no sound came through the wall at all, in fact.

The magister's bubble of silence is still up. No one can hear me. She was alone, other than the background panic bubbling in her mind from poor Beth. She was still here it seemed, returning now that the threat of torture was gone. It was replaced with something much worse—a threat of agonizing death by fire.

The guards outside radiated their satisfaction and pride at the depth of their achievement. They probably thought Amie was being interrogated right then, spilling all the secrets that would kill her swarm.

She could feel them again. Her would-be killer had removed her restraints, so the “queen” could listen to his message. Would that mean—

Amie focused on the candle, to lift it as she would've done to so many other small objects. Instead, the barrier in front of her sparked and flashed, glowing bright for an instant.

I don't want to die, Amie! It isn't fair... none of this is fair!

Not her thoughts. The bug's own desperation, so overpowering that she almost lost control completely. Beth hopped down off the bed, splashing into ankle-deep oil. Before Amie realized what was happening, she was up against the barrier, pressing towards the candle.

It might not even take until that little flame burned down. Exposed to the air, oil would emit a pungent, flammable gas, ready to leap up and ignite. Down by the ground, the odor was so intense that Amie started coughing. It burned where it touched the holes in her legs, weakening the chitin there. That pain would seem like a very small thing once the fire started.

Don't let me die! Please, counselor... Amie. You have to save me! She struggled forward, touching up against the barrier. It lit up bright purple, forming a shimmering wall that extended exactly as high as her hoof. She expected it to burn, yet—there was no pain.

"If we put that out, someone might come for us. Maybe we could... throw..." Amie levitated one bottle up into the air, holding it ready. There was still a danger the impact might ignite the flame, but if she was careful...

She shoved, lobbing it with as much speed as Beth's magic could muster.

It struck against the barrier, shattering into broken pottery around her.

"It's too smart!" She wasn't sure who said it first—maybe Beth, or maybe her. They shared the same despair. Amie had been so close to peace with Equestria. She made it all the way to their castle, where she could meet the princess and finally negotiate.

"Screw this whole planet!" Beth smacked one hoof into the barrier, as hard as her little body could. The barrier smacked them back with all the force of a solid wall. Except for Amie. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it. While Beth stopped, she kept going. She looked down, staring at the apparent contradiction.

She saw nothing, just a changeling hoof stopping short of the barricade. Curiosity overpowered her terror, and she kept pushing. Her leg pulled free of Beth, extending into the open air on the other side.

"Don't leave me!" Beth screamed, desperate and terrified. She backed away from the barrier, forcing her hoof down. Amie snapped back into place, like an out-of-focus projector adjusted back onto the wall. "I need you here! Whatever happens... at least I won't be alone!"

Amie fought her. Not to let go, she could've done that easily. Rather, she fought for Beth's body, pressing up towards the barrier again. "You don't understand! I think... the princess used magic like this on me before!" She didn't strike the barrier with a hoof this time, but used her face. "The unicorn... said it traps the guilty, remember?"

"Don't leave me here! Amie, please! They already killed Rick! You can't..."

But she could. Through her tears, through the screams and protests of a terrified child, Amie threw herself against the barrier. In an instant she was through, fully severed from the shivering bug behind her.

It felt like tearing through her own flesh, ripping out a little piece of her heart with every new inch. But Amie had felt something like it before, when she used her farcasting to heal a starving bug. But none of those past attempts left her overwhelmed with guilt and betrayal. There was no mind in the worker bugs she wanted to revive, not like this.

Beth let out one last, agonized wail, betrayal as sharp and real as anything Ivy had felt—then Amie was free.

Her hooves splashed down in oil, sharp and acidic. Amie didn't think, didn't stop to try and understand what was happening—she reacted, levitated the candle up into the air, then smashing it up against the stone ceiling. The last embers went out, turning to molten wax against the rock there.

For a few terrible seconds Amie remained there, catching her breath. It wasn't easy, not with harsh chemicals in her lungs.

"You... didn't leave," squeaked a little voice from behind her. An impossible voice—how could Beth still be standing there if Amie pulled them through! "You... saved me. Just like you said."

She spun, splashing through the oil as she did so. Amie loomed over her, much taller than the other bug. Because she was a queen, and Beth wasn't. I'm here! I teleported, just like the fake unicorn did!

She didn't have long to process that impossibility, or the terrible danger she was now in. Beth's body ignited before her eyes, filling the prison with light.

It wasn't oil that burned here—but magic. Amie had seen this before, right before someone stabbed one of her campers with a spear. She turned aside, shielding herself.

It did little good. Magic exploded from the bug, an overwhelming burst of light. The barrier contained it for a second, filling the room with opaque purple energy. Then it broke, sending bits and pieces flying in all directions. Glass bottles shattered, tools toppled to the ground, and the door ripped right off its hinges, bursting outward.

All that power tore the interrogation chamber apart, splashing oil up on every surface, ripping apart the cabinets—but only the debris touched Amie.

Silence ended in an instant, breaking into distant screams and panicked shouts from the guards outside.

Amie wasn't going to get caught flat-footed a second time, not after Ivy had. Her body flashed, changing back into the first form she could think of, the pony that felt most naturally a part of her. Tailslide's girlfriend, the bat.

Bits of broken wood smacked into her, along with waves of oil, coating everything. A little got into her mouth, and she started hacking and spitting, her eyes burning with pain.

Beth landed a second later, splashing down into the oil. She wasn't black now either, but pastel pink, with purple fins and a shiny purple shell. "I don't... I..." She held up her leg, soaked with harsh oil. "The holes are gone."

Soldiers poured in through the opening a second later. Many of them were only half-armored, or carried no weapons. They stumbled and splashed their way into the oil, which was now seeping slowly out into the hall. "Stop where you are!" A few pointed crossbows at Beth or spears, or whatever else they had brought. "What in Celestia's name is going on here?"

They hadn't even noticed Amie at first. She stood up, shaking away bits of oil and slime. None of the guardsponies pointed their weapons at her. "The... magister..." she said, coughing out every word. "He's a changeling. We've been infiltrated. He's headed to the hospital now, to make sure the other prisoner dies. You have to stop him!"

A few soldiers moved towards the door, as though her authoritative command alone was enough to compel them.

But then someone else spoke, someone familiar. The officer who arrested her. He wasn't armored anymore, but wore a light jacket and had his mane slicked back with soap. He still had his spear, levitating in the space beside him. "And who the buck are you, exactly?"

"I'm... Amino Black, Agent of SMILE. Princess Luna teleported me here as soon as she realized what was happening. Send somepony for her right now, she'll want to see this. And... for buck's sake, the hospital! Arrest the magister, or he'll just change into somepony else and disappear. Go!"

Amie wasn't aware of any magic she used on these ponies, no matter what they thought about changeling mind control. But with her energetic shouts, the crowd of disorganized royal guards finally sprang into action. Several broke and galloped away. Whether they left for the hospital or the princess, either way they were doing what she needed.

"That... does not explain anything," the officer finally said, gesturing at the oily floor beneath them, then the not-quite changeling at its center. "It felt like a cannon went off in here. And the prisoner looks... like the other one. Something is very wrong here."

"I share your sentiment, guardsman. And other concerns as well." A dark figure appeared in the doorway, so large she would barely fit through the opening. Amie had seen this creature before, though there was something more subdued in her appearance now. Instead of endless, ever shifting stars, her mane was mostly just hair, with only the occasional suggestion of motion from the tips.

She might be an Alicorn, but the exhaustion, confusion, and guilt boiling in her were no different from the emotions of any other creature Amie had encountered in Equestria.

As she appeared, the guards wearing their uniforms saluted, while those without armor dropped into low bows. Amie did the latter, though her imitation was just a little slower than the rest. Beth alone did not, watching the display with unbroken confusion. Her eyes kept flicking to Amie, watching for her lead. But if she still knew how to transform, at least the bug had the good sense not to do it.

Luna’s horn glowed, and light washed over the room. When it faded, Amie's hooves settled securely onto the stone floor. The fumes choking her lungs faded, and the oil vanished. "It appears somepony wished to silence this prisoner before she could be questioned. I would ordinarily not believe one of my ponies capable of such... brutality."

She gestured, and the guardsponies all straightened. Amie did too, though she had a harder time meeting the princess's eyes. Tired or not, there was a power here that Amie could never equal. This was why Kaya called them overwhelming and irresistible. Except now instead of using a drone for this visit, Amie was here in person—somehow. She could die right here, and doom the whole camp.

"It was not one of your ponies," Amie said quickly, before the others could speak up. "The magister was a changeling. He wished the captives to die before they could speak, to prevent useful information from being known. He's on the way to the hospital now, if he isn't already there. I... don't know if the other bug is still alive. But he won't be if he gets his way."

Luna straightened, banishing the weariness from her face. "Soldiers, let none past these doors. This... bat, and the prisoner, will remain. Allow only my sister or myself to enter. I will return shortly." She vanished again, leaving a shimmering contrail of light in her wake.

The officer recovered first. "You heard the princess. To the door, ponies. Those in full uniform... you four. Hold this position. I will reinforce it shortly. None enter the interrogation room." His eyes fell on Amie, suspicion plainly visible there. "And none leave. Move!"

They moved.

Chapter 80

Amie wasn't sure how long they waited in the ruins of an interrogation room. There were no windows, and the ponies didn't stick clocks in their prison cells.

At least the soldiers didn't try to lock them up again, or return with fresh restraints. They backed out the door, then split into two groups. One aimed their weapons inward, the other out at the hall, sending anypony who approached away in different directions.

Without restraints, there was plenty here Amie might use as a weapon. But if it came down to fighting through a whole castle—there was no point. She had called for the princess, now it was time to see that through to its conclusion.

After a few minutes, Beth couldn't keep up the act anymore, and she rushed over to join Amie. She pressed her head to Amie's chest, close enough to feel her racing heartbeat. The camper didn't seem so small by comparison when Amie used the body of a tiny bat. "I should've known you wouldn't leave," she whispered.

Love radiated from her, as powerful as a child for her mother. Beth's feelings were pale shadows no longer. Her gratitude and loyalty nourished Amie as richly as any pony could.

It wasn't quite enough for the guards not to overhear. Pony ears could be sharp, bat ears most of all. She'd seen at least one thestral out there, no less suspicious of her than the rest.

Amie rested one protective wing around her, the same as she would've done to the youngest of her campers when they needed support. "I'm the reason you're in danger," she said. "I just wish..."

She couldn't finish, but they both knew what she meant. Rick's final charge had provoked an incredible magical display, but it still ended with a spear in his chest.

Beth’s relief turned to pain. Part of her still hoped for Rick's survival, but not much. She saw the spear as much as Amie did.

"He wanted to protect me," Beth whispered. "He... loved me."

"Yeah. I think he did."

Hoofsteps echoed down the hall, loud enough to make both of them turn. Amie removed her wing, stepping between the entrance and Beth.

"Lieutenant. Thank you for standing faithfully over the prisoner. Relieve these stallions and get some rest."

The ponies straightened, turned, and marched away, leaving the doorway open. For a second, anyway.

Princess Luna stepped through, looking even more exhausted than she had before. Her mane frayed at the tips, and bags puffed out under her eyes.

Amie bowed to her as she had the last time. Beth copied the gesture, a little sluggish.

"There's no need for that, pony. We both know I did not send you here. SMILE agent... you're certainly bold enough to be a queen."

Amie straightened, keeping her wings open. She tried to make it casual, as though by being as large as possible the Alicorn might just forget about the bug arrested here. "The bug in your hospital... is he alright?"

Amie felt nothing from this alicorn beyond her exhaustion. The emotions of such a powerful being were probably too strong to feed on, even if she could. The brilliance of it might char her away from the planet.

"Our experience with changelings suggests they are not concerned with their own lives. Individually, they are not sapient, only vessels for their queens."

Amie met her eyes this time. Maybe she wasn't strong enough on her own—but if bugs like Beth believed in her, then she could do anything. "His name is Rick Therieau. He's thirteen. I only met his mom, when she dropped him off—Joann. He's from Vancouver, but his family wanted him to spend a few weeks in nature."

The princess tilted her head to one side. "This one... she looks similar. And the destruction here—it corresponds with what I observed on the streets of my capital. A thaumic mortar... the royal guards could not know what they faced. But they were in no danger. The weapons were created to fight dragons, and other fearsome predators. They do not harm living ponies. Or else the two of you would be pulpy red slime."

"Please, miss... princess." Beth peeked out from beside Amie. "I'm sorry for being here, and... wrecking all this. But Rick was my friend—is he okay?"

The princess settled weakly down onto her haunches, radiating an exhaustion that went all the way to her bones. "You are her, bat. Amie."

Amie abandoned her disguise. With her greater size, she pushed Beth back behind her, brushing away at her mane. "I didn't come to infiltrate your castle, or hurt anyone. I just wanted..."

"I know." The Alicorn lifted a feathery wing, silencing her. "Ivy Path is a guest of my tower. Your kind are a conundrum greater than any Equestria has yet faced. When I intercepted him, the changeling you spoke of had attacked one surgeon and stuffed another into a locker. He tried to flee—when I would not permit him, he swallowed a potent poison and expired before me. Your... bug... has been stabilized. Equestrian curative magic is not known to affect changelings—but it served him, somehow. He lives."

Beth cheered, jumping up and down in place. Amie turned to silence her, and the bug wrapped her forelegs around Amie's neck instead. "Rick's alive!"

"Yeah." Amie wiped away the moisture from her face, then returned the little bug's hug. "He's alive."

"Canterlot has known many changelings. I witnessed the horrific outcome of that abuse—seen good stallions and mares tortured and harvested of every drop of magic they contained. I stood at the funerals of mothers, fathers, and their children. I heard their weeping, begging us to promise that Equestria would never suffer that fate a second time."

She stood, looming over the two of them now. It wasn't as dramatic as her dream appearance, radiating with incomprehensible magic. There was something similar in the regal confidence. "Explain it to me, Amie Blythe. How can your species overflow our streets with monsters, then send creatures like you? I do not need to judge this child to see she does not belong in a dungeon."

Generations as parasites fighting to survive. Humans could end up that way, if it was between evil and starvation. Director Albrecht had already shown her exactly what the first steps on that path could look like."I might know the answer, princess. But maybe we could have that conversation another time. You look exhausted."

She lowered her head again, but this time her bow wasn't pretending. "Thank you for saving my camper's life. After what other changelings have done to you... we could not expect kindness."

"No greater love," the Alicorn whispered. "Many wars we have won against many foes. In each we knew that victory was no victory if it cost what made us ponies. You have seen no kindness—but perhaps you should have. So many have been blinded by their hunger for vengeance. They joust against the wrong shield."

Princess Luna pointed her horn at a patch of blank wall. A shimmering opening appeared there, leading to a much more comfortable stone room, filled with bookshelves and soft furniture. "The night is far spent. I must confer with my sister. Given what has transpired already, I cannot speak to the safety of the castle proper. Step through to my tower, and do not leave. I will retrieve you."

Amie nodded her gratitude, then approached the glowing magical doorway. Here was a teleport, exactly like the kind she needed for her campers. Except that it would have to pass between worlds, instead of from one room to another.

Beth slipped through, ducking inside with a final muttered thanks. She appeared on the other side as easily as walking through a hallway, hooves settling on wood.

"The tower is sealed with my defensive magics," Luna said. "If there are other infiltrators within our gates, you need not fear them. You and your daughter are under my protection."

Amie shifted, shrinking back into the bat she'd been a few moments earlier. She could've corrected the princess, but stopped short. As their queen, she probably had adopted the bugs of Stella Lacus, young and old. "Thank you. Please don't leave me there for too long. There are a thousand others like her on that mountain, with your army surrounding them on all sides. They need me."

She passed through the spell. The space fuzzed and bent around her, not unlike what she felt while trapped inside the interrogation circle. Then she was through, standing in a wide, circular room.

It was a large, comfortable living-room, packed with bookshelves and cozy places to read them. A telescope took a place of prominence in the center, looking into a huge clear window. The first orange of dawn flickered through the glass. A pony rested on the seat beside it, touching one hoof up against the window.

Ivy had a blanket wrapped around her, and her mane almost as disheveled as Princess Luna's. Her eyes were bloodshot, swollen with many tears. She stared at the pink bug, watching Beth circle the room inspecting the bookshelf. Then she noticed Amie. "You're a bat—did the princess call for me? Or does she want me to..." She looked away, sagging into her blanket. "She won't forgive me. I don't deserve it."

The queen's wisdom repeated over and over how important it was for ponies to never see her change. The less their magic was understood, the more they could use it to escape their sight. Amie did it again, changing back into Rain Fly. Ivy wasn't watching her at first— but the flash of magic made her turn, in time to see a unicorn replace the bat she'd been. "Good to see you again, Ivy."

The pony recoiled from her, but not fear this time. She curled up on the window seat, lifting the blanket over her head. "The princess let you go."

Amie nodded. "I've been judged already. And my kids—Beth! Could you come here?"

She couldn't project the thought to her, let alone compel her to obey. But she didn't have to. Beth scurried over, nudging up against her side. She glanced between them. "I... remember her. She doesn't like you very much."

Amie chuckled in spite of herself. If she still thought Rick had died, Ivy would probably be right. No matter how good her intentions, or childish the mindset behind it, she couldn't easily forgive a betrayal that killed one of her kids. "I just want to know... why," she said. "Did you want them to throw me in the dungeon? Did you want them to kill me?"

"No!" Ivy straightened, flinging the blanket away from herself. Fresh tears streamed down her face. "I thought... I dunno what I thought. You weren't supposed to be a real changeling. But when the steward heard what I thought, she got the guard involved. You were just supposed to admit you lied. Then I would ride back to Agate and leave this awful city. Nopony was supposed to get hurt."

Amie waved Beth off again. She should be using this time more productively—reaching back to her hive, so they knew she wasn't dead. But she wasn't a perfect queen—she needed closure too.

"That's a pretty complicated conspiracy to get you to move, Ivy. Bring some actors to the top of a mountain—learn powerful illusions to pretend to be bugs, then pay an artist to paint you a fake picture of my family. What if you just turned us in to your dad? What if you ran off that peak and hurt yourself?"

"I know it's stupid." She wiped away at her eyes again. She cried so energetically she could never win against all those tears. "I'm sorry. You don't have to accept it. I'm sure you'll never want to see me again. I just... I had to tell the princess. Guess it worked—you're not in jail anymore."

Amie sighed, resting one leg on Ivy's shoulder. "It was wrong for me to let you come here to help. I've gotten into a lot of bad habits—asking kids to take risks like adults with a lifetime of experience. Equestria chewed us up, spit us out the other side." She let go. "Thanks for trying to make it right. Coming to the princess like this—might be the reason she intervened when she did. You might've saved my kid's life."

Ivy sniffed, and finally stopped crying. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And... I'd rather not live with a grudge. I can forgive if you can."

"I think that sounds—nice."

Chapter 81

Amie watched the sunrise over Equestria while one real pony and one fake one slept beside her. She considered more than once how she might make her return to the camp—what route she would take, how she would get the gold, every step involved.

But all those would have to wait until her royal meeting with the princesses of Equestria.

She had finally done it. The mountains were climbed, and she finally found a way to make them listen. Once Equestria wasn’t trying to kill her changelings, they wouldn’t even have to hide to research the leads on portal magic that Ivy had found. They could harvest friendship in peace, read all the right books, and get her kids home.

She just had to hold things together a little longer, and it could all be over.

Canterlot was a beautiful city, easily a rival of any of the similarly situated capitals on Earth. If they were stranded here for the rest of their lives, she could definitely see herself enjoying it. With the magic of farcasting, she could take an extended holiday and see the whole thing.

While she waited, Amie turned over a few different versions of her argument for the pony diarchs. Maybe Celestia would approach the argument from the same position as her sister—or maybe she would be hostile and require additional convincing. Either way, she would be prepared. Having Beth and Rick in town would certainly help provide a direct illustration of who Equestria was hunting.

Her powers as a queen were strong enough to monitor Stella Lacus in the meantime. Even at such a great distance, she felt her “workers” in the back of her mind. They did very little, entirely focused on the tasks she had assigned them. Many now devoted themselves to the nursery, ensuring conditions remained optimal to keep her eggs growing strong.

When one felt a sudden burst of fear, that drew Amie’s attention instantly. The workers felt very little of their own emotions anymore, almost nothing in fact. That was how she knew that the bugs were lost in the first place.

She no longer needed the crutch of a flame and a ritual chamber, not to farcast into the bugs she had used so many times before. She settled into a resting position against the wall and was suddenly somewhere else.

Cannonfire blasted into Stella Lacus from high above. Each blast was far louder than the small ceremonial gun they fired at the beginning of each camp session—larger than anything Amie had heard in her life.

Each blast was soon joined by another terrible roar—trees crushed, or something worse. Crunching buildings, shattered and broken in the impact.

Amie was in the body of a scout, one she left high in the trees near camp to watch for danger. She expected that danger to come from the hill, perhaps in the form of a few holdouts from camp deciding they were going to mount a coup on Amie. This attack came from the wrong direction.

Her worker was a pegasus, one with mottled green feathers chosen to imitate the evergreens she hid her in. Even so, she dropped lower in the trees, hovering there so her head barely protruded. Amie didn’t have to think about how to fly—instinct dominated, so her mind could focus on something far more important.

What… is…? Were those words? Where had they come from? Another question for her to figure out when the camp wasn’t under attack.

The sky held a half-dozen airships, at least by the Equestrian definition. Many had balloons, though they were also far larger than any gas could possibly lift. Many were built like seafaring ships, with cannons along the broadside in a very similar fashion. These all pointed towards her mountain, bombarding it with barrage after barrage.

We knew this could happen. That’s why I wanted everyone in the mine. She reached towards camp with her magical senses but found none of her workers there. That did not mean it was empty—there were bugs up there, mostly adults now. A handful of staff who disagreed with Albrecht’s surrender, along with some older, collaborator students. Less than fifty bugs, the last time she counted.

But no bugs should be up there under that barrage. Her ears folded flat as the guns fired, sending blast after blast through the air. With each one, ships rocked to one side, then had to wait for the cloud to part and make way for their next shot.

We’re defenseless. We don’t have anything up there to fire back.

For a few seconds, Amie did very little—she could only cower, watching as her favorite place in any world was leveled by cannons. Hopefully whatever bugs were up there had the good sense to rush down to the mine. In the shelter of the trees, they might still have safety.

This is only the beginning. When they finish bombarding us, they’re going to send in ground troops to clean up. Path decided to kill us.

Fury boiled in her, far brighter than she had ever known it. Equestria was listening! She had an audience with the princesses that day! How could she lose it all now?

She almost lifted into the air, flying straight up at Commander Path’s capital ship. Either she could convince him to wait another day to attack the camp or kill him dead.

But no—she’d never make it. No pony on those airships would be fooled by her disguise, not when they were attacking a changeling camp.

I need to get a radio. She turned towards the mine entrance, leaving her post in the trees behind. She left one final command to the drone, instructing her to get down to the nest where it was safe, and protect the eggs if she had to. Then Amie moved, into the gift shop office.

They hadn’t built anything too important up there of course—the entire point of the mine was to prepare for hostility from either the humans of Stella Lacus, or the ponies at the base of their mountain.

Predictably, the bugs inside were panicked, rushing around in confused groups. Most at least had the sense to push deeper, though some were crying out to leave the building.

Amie transformed her watching worker instantly, taking the bat form that had become one of her common aliases. She galloped down the steps into the gift shop, blocking the exit before any bugs could reach the doors.

Any that she saw, anyways. If there were others further away, there was little she could do for them now. “Stop!” she yelled, so loud and shrill that the whole panicked mob fell silent. Only the distant rumble of cannonfire broke the silence—explosions, followed by whistling. “Everyone, downstairs now. Demo team, be ready to collapse the entrance, just like we practiced. But I don’t want that to happen until the last moment. Whatever bugs can get in here, get them inside.”

She stopped one bug with a wing, glowering. “No, no supplies. No time for that anymore. People only, boxes stay where they are. Does anyone have a radio?”

It took another few seconds to get her hooves on a walkie-talkie, taken from one of the counselors.She turned to the new channel her faction was using, the one reserved for emergencies. Whatever else might be said about her bugs, she was quite confident they could identify a direct attack as an emergency. “Every bug outside the mine. Get to the mine now. We are going to hold the door for you as long as we can. If the gift shop looks exploded, just get as far away from here as you can. Surrender to your attackers if they let you. Otherwise, run. I am negotiating with the Equestrian princesses right now. They can stop this, but you need to stay alive.

The old camp channel still worked and had gone from usual silence and threats to terrified screams and begging for help. She waited for an opening on that channel, then spoke again. “Stella Lacus, we are under attack by Equestria. I’ve seen their strategies myself. When they finish bombarding us, they will send troops. If you can’t get to the mine in the next ten minutes, you need to get as far away from camp as possible. Keep to the trees, stay hidden. Wait for a week, then make a smoke signal by night. I will send someone for you.”

She returned the radio to the bug she’d taken it from, then hurried towards the mine along with the press of frightened bugs. Counselor voices cut through the confusion, urging kids to remain calm and get into their groups. Amie would have to trust them to follow the plan—she had her own mission to accomplish.

She reached the gate another minute later, recessed into a rocky tunnel at the back of the store. There she found the makeshift barricade, packed high with crates and barrels of expired gas and oil. Crates of dynamite from the museum were there too for good measure, though all agreed there was no chance they would go off. The roadside attraction hadn’t been that dangerous.

Few children waited at the gate anymore. A handful of older bugs were there, carrying camp rifles and shotguns. She saw just as many abandoned weapons as those with an active wielder. Under the threat of real attack, many brave-seeming children ultimately decided to flee. Good.

In their place, adult leaders remained. Albrecht stood beside the open doorway, levitating a rifle vaguely towards the entrance. It pointed too high to accidentally fire at one of the bugs, and there was no glow on the trigger.

But it wasn’t the old director who noticed her first—it was Tailslide. The pony had a spear, she couldn’t even guess where it had come from. He stood on the other side of the entrance, watching bugs stream past. At least until he noticed her coming.

“Amie! Amie, you’re alive! I thought—”

She met him in a brief, tight embrace, overflowing with relief and affection. So much energy radiated from him that several nearby bugs stopped retreating and instead froze in place, watching the two of them with a sudden, powerful hunger.

She had stopped the camp from starving, but most were still some degree of hungry. They had to stretch a little glamour a long way, at least until hunting finally got off the ground.

She broke apart from him much sooner than she would’ve otherwise, turning to glare at the flagging bugs. “Keep moving! They could start shooting the mine any second!”

Finally, they did, and she returned her attention to her frightened boyfriend. “You thought Equestria’s spell finally got me. Thought we were wrong before.”

He nodded tearfully. “Just vanishing like that—I know you can use unicorn magic, but you—I didn’t think you knew how.”

“I didn’t,” she agreed. “Listen—I need you to hold this entrance. If it looks like Equestria is coming, blow it down. Changelings are good at digging; we can get out another way. We’re going to keep it open to let as many bugs in as possible.”

She had already watched most of the construction crew make it in from the hotel, along with her scout from the surface. How many of her campers were still out there?

“We will hold them.” Albrecht brought his rifle straight up, moving it with precision. “But we cannot win an extended conflict, Amie. If we seal ourselves down here—they need not attack. They can guard the exit and wait for our supplies to fail. We both know how little time that will take.”

She nodded. “Pray they do that. I’m standing in an Equestrian tower, waiting for my meeting with the princess. I’ll make them stop this—I need you to keep my bugs alive in the meantime.”

“We can collapse the entrance,” Tailslide said. “How long did you say to wait?”

“If a single shot hits the hotel above us—or the cannons stop, and Equestria sends troops to the mine. But I can’t—I need to wake up now.”

“We’ll do it, Amie. Just get Celestia to call this off. We can hold them.”

Amie kissed him on the cheek, then turned her bug towards the tunnels, and ordered her worker to retreat. She couldn’t stay to be close, or else leave the body near an explosion when it finally went off.

She closed her eyes, and let the worker go.

Chapter 82

Amie was back in the tower. She sat up sharply, returning quickly to full alertness. This wasn’t the time to take things slowly, not with the attack on Stella Lacus at that exact moment.

She could practically hear the cannonfire from the tower, though she knew that must be in her imagination. Agate and Stella Lacus were quite far from Canterlot, much too far for such sounds to travel.

She imagined it anyway—felt the deep rumble in her chest from each blast, and the subsequent explosion of something precious and familiar to her being destroyed in the impact. With each strike, relics of Earth were lost forever. A possible return remained entirely theoretical—and would never be realized if the Equestrian army killed them all first.

She would never know it from Luna’s tower. The city beneath continued its quiet existence, the streets only just beginning to wake up. Somewhere down there was a little crater blown in the street, where Rick had nearly been killed. And would’ve been, if the intervening influence of other changelings in Equestrian society had triumphed.

But that mystery could wait for another day, when her own camp was safe.

Luna had instructed her to stay in that room and wait for her return. But she couldn’t do that, not without abandoning her campers to their fate. Amie picked the largest and biggest door, striding towards it as forcefully as she could. The Royal Guard outside wouldn’t want to let her leave, but she had to insist. Only by radiating just how confident and in control she was could she overpower their natural resistance and open them to defying their orders.

The door opened, swinging outward into a towering spiral staircase. There were no guards outside at all, just a shadowy expanse stretching down with a narrow flight of stairs, without railing between them. That made a perfect path for flight, but not a particularly safe-feeling walk.

Amie strode forward towards the stairs, hurrying out the opening. Well, hurrying into the opening. Instead of passing through, she smacked directly into it, as though she had somehow forgotten to open it. She recoiled, flaring both wings and hissing at the open space.

She edged forward a little closer, reaching towards it with one hoof. Despite looking open, her hoof pressed against something solid, yet flexible, like cloth drawn taught over an invisible membrane. She pushed; a silvery light appeared like an invisible net.

“Didn’t the princess say something about not leaving her tower? She said there were wards on it, to protect us from any other hidden assassins. Or maybe her own ponies.”

Amie turned and found Beth watching from behind. Her eyes were groggy, yet she sounded alert. More importantly, she was right.

“Beth, they’re attacking Stella Lacus,” she whispered, urgent. “Right now. Cannons and everything. Blasting the camp to pieces. Most everyone is underground, but… when they’re done shooting, they’ll send in the troops. I saw their invasion plan myself.”

Beth stomped one hoof, frustrated. “Why? What did we do?”

“Nothing I know. There were some bugs in Agate, but they haven’t been discovered. Or they… hadn’t last time I was there. I guess I should check on them too.”

Yet those bugs were among her strongest, oldest, and bravest. If anyone could handle themselves during a crisis, it was them. She needed to keep the camp itself from falling.

Someone moaned from across the room, sitting up from the couch. Ivy stretched, opening one eye and looking in their direction. Unlike the changelings, she still looked exhausted. The pony needed a full night sleep, not whatever stray moment she could get tucked away in Luna’s tower.

“Amie? Is something wrong?”

Celestia and Luna can’t be far away now. The sun is already up, they should be here! Amie left the empty doorway, hurrying over to her resting friend. “Your father started the attack on my camp. I’m… trying to get in touch with the princesses so they can stop it. People might be dead already—but if no one can stop them before they get to the mine… there are hundreds of children in there. Almost none of them can fight.”

Ivy rolled out of bed, shaking her head a few times as though trying to rouse herself. Something worked, because the sense of profound exhaustion faded, replaced with anger. “He bucking wouldn’t.”

“He bucking did, unfortunately.” She paced over to a door on the opposite side, one leading to the balcony, and flung that open too. This time she moved slowly instead of bashing her face against it. This was for the best, because her hoof struck against empty space a second time. She pressed harder, until her shell started to strain, and pain flashed through her body. Amie jerked suddenly backward, skidding along the tile.

The spell flickered once, then faded back to invisibility. Amie ground her teeth, keeping both wings flared. If she waited here, her campers might die. Even a few hours might make the difference between stopping the invasion or having an army of soldiers rampaging through her makeshift hive.

“Okay, uh… I…” She scanned the room, searching for anything she could use to call the princess. But there were no phones, no bells, nothing that even resembled a communications device. With such powerful magic, the Alicorns probably didn’t need any. They could teleport wherever they wanted, send magical passes around—why bother with a bell?

“Ivy, Beth. I need to… I need to try and help at camp. See if there’s a way to get Luna’s attention. Tell them that Commander Path is attacking in Agate at this second. Full on invasion—airships, artillery, his shock troops waiting to drop. Losing the camp buildings is bad enough—but if those soldiers start killing bugs…”

What could she do, retaliate? Hurt innocent ponies because her kids were attacked? They would only perpetuate the cycle of pointless violence. Her tribe would end up like the Erovores, another whispered curse among the ponies.

I can’t let them in.

“We can do that,” Ivy said. “But Amie—you’re right here! If you can’t get past the wards on the tower, you won’t be able to help either. You’re as trapped as the rest of us.”

“She’s not,” Beth said, tapping her head with her hoof. “Amie can control other bugs with her mind. Not sure if she can do it when they’re fighting back, but she doesn’t try that. It’s like… voluntary. Even if she’s up in the tower with us, she can be back at camp at the same time. I dunno how it works.”

“Farcasting,” Amie supplied. “I don’t either. Splash me with something if the princess shows up. We can worry about what to do about the changelings later—all that matters right now is stopping the attack.”

Beth nodded seriously. “Of course, Amie. You go! If we find another way out, we’ll get them sooner. Otherwise, we can wake you up when the time comes.”

Amie settled into a comfortable space beside the wall, preparing for another farcasting. She still didn’t know if that process would actually make a difference—was there anything more she could do by sending her mind? She wasn’t a warrior, and she wasn’t willing to throw the lives of her “workers” away any more than the other campers.

But the alternative was to sit around doing nothing at all. She had to try something.

Amie closed both eyes and opened them again in the caverns of her shelter.

For a few seconds she was entirely helpless, struggling to process the blast against her senses. Bugs screamed in terror, cried, pressing ever deeper into the old mine. Even at their reduced size, that was bound to lead to harm; much of the mine wasn’t safe for occupation. Only the top levels were cleared out for habitation—the rest was unknown.

The worker she’d found first wasn’t right on the surface, but a few levels down in one of the many “cabins” meant for a single group of bugs. Even after months on an alien world, they still largely kept to the same groups.

Like most cabins, they were simple in their construction. A group cleared out a wide section of tunnel, removing the rubble and covering any openings with hardened green slime. Then they spread their sleeping bags down both sides, with girls on one and boys on the other. A shared sitting area formed the far end, using whatever scraps they could find to make cushions, chairs, and tables. They all relied on the same light source—a string of Christmas LEDs along the ceiling, that stretched from one cabin to the next.

A few bugs turned to look towards her, fixing her with sudden interest. “Shawna?” A counselor asked, raising one hoof. “How are you…”

“Not Shawna,” Amie said. She shook herself out, then changed into her bat. Not just because she liked bats this time—but the sharp senses and small wings would be far better for navigating the cramped quarters of her shelter. “Here to help again. Which way to the surface?”

A few other bugs looked up from their places. Most cowered in their sleeping bags, tucked together on either side of the room. A few circled around the front playing cards or huddled around a single shared tablet screen. Now they were all watching her, multifaceted eyes filled with sudden interest.

Even from their false emotions, Amie felt their hope. “Queen?” someone asked. She wasn’t sure who, but they sounded young.

“I didn’t tell anyone to call me that,” she said, moving carefully between the beds, then squeezing around the table. “Keep your heads down, everyone. We’ll get through this.”

The tunnel ended with a heavy tarp, which blocked most of the passage but not all. A brisk breeze passed down the bottom and top, lifting little bits of dirt and debris and carrying fresh air from the central ventilator.

Somewhere in the wisdom of the Egovores, there were instructions to build tunnels that ventilated themselves through thermodynamic principles and minimal interference. Unfortunately for them, this nest used none of those.

A short distance down the hall and she came to the next group, more or less the same as the one she was in. Another twenty or so kids and their leader, cowering together in terror and waiting for the attack to end. But these didn’t know who she was or make any attempt to stop her. She didn’t look like a foal.

Soon she came to the large central shaft, with its heavy freight elevator and smaller ramp. Amie took off, ascending past the elevator as fast as her wings could carry her.

That still wasn’t fast—what little about flight she had picked up on her time in Equestria didn’t make her any kind of expert in the field. But it was faster than fighting the ramp, and the thick procession of bugs down from the surface.

“Single file!” Mona shouted, her voice echoing in the large space. “Nice and slow, everyone. Don’t panic. Everyone keep an eye on your buddy. Go down to your floor and straight to your cabin.”

Someone else had set up a portable speaker. It played classical music in the background, barely audible over the sound of so much terror and misery.

There was only one sound Amie didn’t hear anymore—cannons. They should be faint and distant, but still audible. There were none. That meant…

BOOM! An explosion shook the mine, rattling rocks and making campers gasp and whimper with terror. Little stones tumbled around Amie, battering against her. She landed on the top floor, waiting for the shaking to stop.

Nothing collapsed, no further caverns shook below her hooves. As explosions went, that one was downright mild.

It wasn’t enough, she realized, with a fresh flash of terror. That was supposed to seal us in tight. It wasn’t big enough. They saved too much fuel to run the generators, they hadn’t had time to make enough explosives.

Amie broke into a gallop again, towards the tunnel to the roller coaster, and the entrance. She couldn’t move that fast, not with the press of bodies flowing the other way. Order was now abandoned, and the crowd transformed to a terrified mob.

“Let me through!” she shouted, so loud that every nearby bug stopped to stare. “Everyone to the side, now!” She didn’t just yell, she commanded. Her bugs obeyed, jerky and unsteady. All except one, left standing directly in the walkway.

Natane, evidently unaffected by her command. While Amie ran through the opening, she waited calmly, then moved into step behind her. “The queen returns. Together we will witness the bloody end of your tribe.”

Chapter 83

Amie glared at Natane, and through her to the queen who watched all the way from Sonoma. In those multifaceted eyes and a face covered in tattoos, she saw no trace of compassion, fear, or even simple concern. There was only cold calculation, acceptance of inevitability.

She didn’t slow down, focusing instead on reaching the exit as quickly as she could. “You’re wrong, Kaya,” she said, focusing on the path ahead. It wasn’t much longer now, a few more turns, and they would reach the former queue line. That area was now an informal center of camp, the only place big enough for large gatherings. A projector pointed at a large display, and many cushions and chairs arranged around them for movie night.

No movie played now, and only a scattered few bugs remained—soldiers with weapons, gathered in a loose bunch around the opposite entrance.

If a trained army gets this far, all these kids are dead. And everyone past them…

“Still you persist?” she said, voice now filled with pity. “Yet you were wise enough not to be on the surface in your true body. Even you could see this truth. Do not deny it.”

Amie transformed in a flash, growing taller and more hardened, with a stark white coat and orange mane. She lost her wings, but flight was no longer as important as magic. She picked the most pathetic-looking of the soldiers, someone with a bow—and levitated it right out of their grip. “You. Quiver, now. Get to your cabin.”

The kid whimpered, offering both with little more resistance. She felt his relief as he galloped away. Only when she was armed again did she turn back to the watching queen, striding back towards the exit. “We don’t have to fight off Equestria, just hold them off long enough for the princess to end the invasion.”

Natane burst out laughing, cruel and loud in the now-empty tunnel. “The princesses of Equestria will do nothing to prevent this slaughter. The compassion of their empire applies only to their own kind. They will sit by during the slaughter and weep for the dead. They will do nothing to intervene. Since the failure of the Erovores, we may no longer hide ourselves in obscurity. We are a hideous blight on their world, the hungering presence that feasts on their helpless, perfect ponies. They were content to starve your tribe in the mountains, Amie Blythe! Do you imagine they were unaware of the consequences? They knew it was a death sentence.”

Hooves pounded on pavement. Shouts echoed in the distance, ordering advance. Not campers, she didn’t have a single “soldier” who could project such anger and bloodthirst.

“When this ends, you may not have the strength to begin another swarm elsewhere. Perhaps it would be better if you did not—the anomaly is not here—while he lives, an avenue for greater study exists. If you do persist after such a defeat, come to Sonoma. We will find a place for you.”

Gunfire shook the confined space, booming down the hall. That was a shotgun, followed by several shots from smaller weapons. Amie sped up, rounding the corner as quickly as she could.

The surface entrance was collapsed as they had intended. But just as she feared, the damage was far less than they needed to close it completely. Instead, a passage wide enough for a single pony at a time remained open, into the broken wreckage of what had been the gift shop. Small fires now burned back there, probably spreading as time went on.

The destruction of that particular resource was already an inevitability. Despite the damage, soldiers massed in the space behind.

Amie couldn't see very many of them directly, so much as feel their influence. They overflowed with aggression and hostility, along with a decent dosage of fear.

"Stand down your attack!" Tailslide yelled, his voice almost as powerful and confident as the attacking ponies. He now lingered in the entrance, waiting beside the armed soldiers. He still had the spear, otherwise useless at range. But if the invading forces got their way, it soon wouldn't be. "Equestria is negotiating peace with the leader of this faction. She's a guest of the princess right now! Send a message to Canterlot and ask!"

The attackers ignored him. Before her eyes, another group advanced, every single one of them a pegasus. Some held shields, spears or blades. There were no unicorns, or ranged weapons.

Commander Path is so eager to kill us he doesn't even wait to do a proper deployment. He drops shock troops directly, even with the building on fire. Where does he think we'll go?

"Second line, up!" barked a voice, harsh and commanding. Up they came, closing in on the opening with a single heavily-armored pony at the front.

"We don't want to do this!" Albrecht yelled. He now held several rifles at once, all simultaneously balanced in his magic. The old director really was quite talented, when he had more information. "We will defend ourselves! Back away now!"

They didn't back away. Hooves scraped through the dirt, along with the muttering of orders and positions.

“Amie,” the old director whispered. "Get back. The next few minutes… I will not be so lucky the second time. One of us has to live for this camp.”

One of us… She opened her mouth to reply, but was too slow.

“Keep them safe when I’m gone.” Then he shoved--a burst of magic slammed into her, throwing her away from the opening. Amie whimpered, rolled through the air, then smacked against the wall. Just as gunshots rang out through the cavern. She couldn’t see exactly what happened next, but she felt the bursts of pain, heard the screams through the torrential roar of modern firearms, dozens of shots in the same time it to Equestria to fire a handful.

The advance halted, and some of the bloodlust Amie felt turned to pain and terror. Ponies knew projectile weapons, otherwise her camp wouldn't have been reduced to rubble. But they clearly weren't expecting this.

The first time might've been warning shots. These ponies haven't been shot before.

"Third rank!" demanded another voice, from further back. "Into position! Reserve, remove the wounded! Where are our unicorns?"

"Coming!" someone answered. Someone she couldn't see, just like all the important voices. They were clustered in the collapsed gift-shop, or else standing around outside it.

"You're dying for no reason!" Amie shouted, reaching Tailslide by the soldiers. "Ponies, stop your attack! We want to surrender! Call Commander Path, get a negotiator down here. No one else has to die!"

Those words attracted sudden attention, from both sides. Bugs turned towards her, while the pace of fighting outside slowed. Only the moans of the wounded remained, at least a dozen ponies scattered around the entrance in various states of injury.

Finally, another voice answered. "May we remove our wounded without fear?Will you strike down the medics?"

"You may!" Amie stepped forward, brushing past Tailslide, then the other soldiers in turn. She pushed their weapons aside with her magic, as she went. Just as well that they would stop— their shotguns held only two shells at a time before needing to be reloaded. "My soldiers will not fire. Please, get a negotiator. No one here wants more ponies dead."

There was no reply at first, just the commands of ponies directing medics in and out in a steady stream. Medics wearing white and red appeared from further in, dragging away the injured on stretchers. Amie felt their shock and surprise as vibrantly as from the soldiers themselves.

Then her own medics rushed forward. They had far less skill than a trained army--really just campers and counselors with a little first aid experience. She wouldn’t put their only nurse anywhere near this hell.

A few seconds later, they returned from the front, dragging several stretchers in her direction. Two had bugs with minor injuries--but not the third.

Albrecht must’ve been shot a dozen times from the vicious insect hemolymph smeared onto his cloth. His body did not move, and she felt no trace of emotion from him.

Yet as the medics covered him with a cloth, Amie couldn’t help but feel as though something was different about him. It must be the light of the cavern that made his shell look so much like stained glass--that, and the blood.

Equestria hadn't expected resistance like this. Changelings were bugs, who fought in a swarm of physical attacks. Heavy armor was the ultimate counter—but chain and thin metal plates did very little at point blank range against firearms.

She had some of her own guilt too, of course. She'd walked in their armory—heard their soldiers preparing for this attack. She saw their weapons, knew their battle strategy. Many of these brave stallions knew Rain Fly, at least incidentally. Not the one commanding them now.

"Sandbags," Amie ordered, gesturing at the opening. "You two. Get the reserves to bring them too. As many as possible."

They hurried off to obey, leaving their weapons behind with eagerness to be somewhere, anywhere else. She could hardly blame them.

That only left three of them at the exit—Amie, Tailslide, and another staff member—the camp tech, now transformed into a bulky, muscular griffon. He looked almost handsome that way—not the form Amie had helped him take, but his bravery. This disaster has forced so many of us to grow beyond what we thought possible.

"Unicorns to the front!" someone yelled—the same officer as before. More ponies shifted, rearranging themselves. Every pegasus with a shield dropped it, removing their spears or other weapons from their sheaths.

"They'll shield this time." Tailslide drew his own spear, backing towards Amie. "I don't know... I don't know if I can do this. Those stallions and mares aren't killers or invaders. They think they're protecting their homes."

"So are we." Amie drew the arrows from her quiver—all of them. They floated into position behind her into a line, easy to find their place when she fired them. "I don't want to kill those ponies. But I won't let my kids get murdered. What else can we do? How do we stop them?"

"Can the young queen match their barrier with one of her own?" asked another voice. Natane, speaking from just behind her. Like the pony officers, she kept well away from the opening, protecting herself from whatever fire came through it. But she was still here.

You care more than you want me to realize. You could hide in the bottom and wait for this to be over. Instead, you're right here, where your drone will die first. That bug was a person, not just a worker. Wes would be heartbroken if something happened to Natane.

But Wes might have a whole camp's worth of reasons to feel upset, as soon as he completed his journey to... whatever waited up north. There might not be a Stella Lacus left for him to come home to.

"That spell exists in my record, along with many others. I saw her studying while caring for her first eggs. Surely she must have observed some magic of usefulness."

Amie shook her head sharply, lifting the bow a little higher. "I learned some spells. No defenses, only... other things." Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the shifting outlines of unicorns visible in the distance.

The pony formation massed outside the effective range of crossbows, though it wouldn't protect them from marksmen or sharpshooters from within. But Amie didn't have snipers, much less ponies skilled enough to wield them.

She did have a growing barrier of sandbags, clogging up the entrance one sack at a time. They were already at knee level and growing by the second.

"I think ponies died in the first wave," Tailslide whispered. "There was so much blood. It's muddy out there now. Your weapons are... terrible."

Amie nodded weakly. She had seen only a single death, but it was enough to chill her insides. "These were meant for sport shooting. You don’t want to know what real human weapons are like, Tailslide. This would not be a fight if we had them, no matter how many unicorns they brought.”

"Yet you subject yourselves to such violence," Queen Kaya said, through Natane. She sat down against the wall, near the back of the room. Before Amie's eyes, her drone transformed, becoming a soldier pony complete with equestrian armor. That, and wounds—blood glittered from an opening in his armor, though curiously it never moved. It remained there, more like a gel than true blood. It also didn't seem to have an impact on his ability to have a conversation. "You must feel it, Amie. They do not intend to wait. They radiate suspicion and anger. Those ponies want revenge."

Tailslide looked between them, expression increasingly horrified. With every passing second, his face grew paler, sicker. "You will kill to protect your home," he finally said. "And so will we. Many will die."

Amie pushed past him again, magically amplifying her voice. The spell was relatively simple, so simple she could absorb it passively just by watching the drills on Agate grounds.

"Come no further, Equestrians! We do not want to kill you! But you attacked us—you came to our mountain; you destroyed our home. Now you send soldiers into a shelter filled with terrified children. We won't stand and let you murder our foals! Send a message to Canterlot! Get a negotiator! We will surrender peacefully! Don't do this!"

Maybe it was her desperation—maybe they planned on it every moment.

Whatever the reason, something finally happened. A pony appeared from among the soldiers, flanked by a pair of unicorns in golden armor. Commander Path stepped forward, approaching the entrance with deliberate steps. "You face death at the hooves of my army, insect. Come forward then and speak."

Amie whispered a silent thought to the worker whose body she had borrowed. They might die today during this moment. But if she didn't act, they would still die, along with everyone else.

Tailslide appeared beside her. He set his weapon down, then followed her into the light.

Chapter 84

Amie and Tailslide passed together through the tunnel entrance, and out before the full might of Commander Path's changeling isolation force.

They formed a semicircle in what had once been the gift shop. Unicorn magic or simple muscle had extinguished all the flames. Plush toys, snack freezers, and displays of old mining tools now lay scattered. Ponies formed a circular rank around them, with only the pair of unicorns and Path himself in the center.

Unlike Amie and Tailslide, they were all armed and armored. They might very well just attack them any second.

Except that Amie could still read their thoughts. Path had kept many of his feelings suppressed well in the past, but apparently that technique required a kind of calm that wasn't present here. Either that, or Amie's own powers of perception were just stronger now that she was a queen.

"Even now, you wear that deception. Do you think it will make me more vulnerable to your lies? We know what you are. We have already captured your kind. Your move on my own house was thwarted. If you thought that would make me turn aside this attack, you are dead wrong. I am now more certain than ever in the justice of our cause. There is no end beneath you, no evil you will not seize upon."

Amie had enough experience dealing with this man to know how it worked. When he got into the mood to lecture, she could really just wait for him to finish. So, she waited in silence, eyeing Tailslide pointedly as she did so. They needed a unified front, or else this brief truce would turn into a proper assault.

The pony army had numbers, and who knew what magical resources to turn against the little shelter of bugs. Even not understanding their foes, Equestria still had adults trained for this, and experience in previous conflicts with changelings. Amie's only real edge was the secondhand technology from her home, much of which was now crushed under camp buildings leveled in cannonfire.

"Princess Luna summoned our queen to Canterlot for judgment. She is already there, in the princess's tower. Before she left, the queen ordered her bugs to remain where they were and not fight. All you have to do is send a message to her. Luna will confirm this. We are ready to surrender to Equestria."

Commander Path's usual confidence faltered at her words. He fell briefly silent, glancing between the two of them. "You are incapable. Surrender implies an enemy faction—a nation with the same wants, the same drives, the same needs. Changelings aren't griffons or dragons. You don't want land; you want the souls of ponies. Coexistence is not possible. We tried it for these last few months. We left you to your mountain, and it was not enough. You intruded into Equestria, sent spies and assassins and hunters. As you always must, because it is your nature. You are parasites, without souls of your own. You know only hunger, hunger so powerful it overcomes all other drives."

"That's not true," Tailslide shot back, puffing out both wings. "Commander, they aren't like that. These bugs aren't from Chrysalis. They didn't attack Canterlot, they don't kill ponies. They just want peace."

"Killed at least two ponies I know of." The pegasus flicked his tail backward, where a medical tent already stood in the parking lot. Several others rose up as the seconds passed, and larger groups of ponies moved back and forth from the airships.

All the more evidence of the futility of this war if it became open conflict. Amie had a population of mostly children, all untrained, fewer than the people of a single city. Her eggs would make for hundreds more—but they needed to grow. They wouldn't be part of this battle, or any that followed in the next few years. If she got her way, they would never see violence.

It didn't matter if they had firearms and their enemy didn't. Even without the Equestrian unicorns to even things up, they would still be hopelessly outmatched. Amie's only hope came from delay, not triumph.

"I begged them to stop," Amie said flatly. "Your stallions charged to their deaths. If you attack this nest, many more will die. Please, send a message to the princess. Surround this camp and wait for Canterlot's reply. We're ready to surrender."

He was barely even watching her anymore. "Tailslide. You should have left these lands when you had the chance. They compromised you months ago. Was this maneuver your idea? It wasn't enough to argue that we should consider a different approach. You had to betray your nation instead. Many more will die here because of you."

Tailslide looked to the commander with defiance plastered to his face. "I know you have no reason to trust me. Maybe you think I've been replaced by a changeling by now, or mind controlled, or worse. None of those things happened. I'm telling you, telling all of you here, that Stella Lacus is different. They aren't like the other bugs who attacked Equestria. They won't hurt you or me or anyone else, if you give them a chance. But they aren't going to roll over and let you slit their throats either. We can coexist."

"Do we lose anything with a delay, commander?" one of the unicorns asked. Amie didn't know either one, but from their uniforms she knew they were both decorated officers. Not simple bodyguards, though they might be here on that duty.

"Assuming they don't have some clever strategy in play. Wait too long, and they might burrow out another way. If we strike now, we could burn them out before that happens. Equestria's infestation will not have a chance to spread."

We're already outside, Amie thought. Of course, she didn't tell them that—the less Path knew, the better.

"That infestation is a thousand children," Amie said. "From twelve to eighteen. When you get past my guards, you'll find corridor after corridor of terrified groups, huddled and begging for mercy. If you order your troops, it will be to commit genocide. They will spend the rest of their lives having nightmares filled with screaming children, clinging to them and begging for mercy while their innocent blood drips from their spears."

Her words did little to the commander—but behind him, many watching ponies lowered their weapons. Others just looked down in shame, faltering under the pressure.

"Will you submit yourself as a prisoner?" Commander Path demanded. "You, and the traitor. If any strike came from inside this shelter, your lives would be forfeit. Both of them."

Before she could answer, the ground started to shake. Amie looked up through the broken ceiling, along with many observing ponies. They all saw the same shape appearing there, a light that first joined with the sun, but soon shone brighter, briefly blinding them.

Amie shielded her face with her hoof, and she wasn't the only one. Many ponies did likewise, hiding from the growing brilliance until it finally faded to something more reasonable.

When it did, it left a single creature in its place—the glittering white body of an Alicorn. A pony that Amie had yet to see in person, though of course she recognized her instantly. It could only be Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria.

"It seems your delay will not be necessary after all," Path said, settling onto his haunches with a sudden, powerfully smug expression. "Whatever deception you intended is undone. The princess will burn you from this mountain and sterilize Equestria of your corruption. Your lies will get you no further."

Amie took one step closer to Tailslide. As she did, she directed her attention backward, through the opening. Her soldiers had sandbags piled up to waist level now, about as far as they could want for shooting purposes. She focused her mental energy backward, in a general transmission that would probably be received by a dozen different bugs. Keep your weapons down. Don't even point them at this pony. If the white one comes in, surrender instantly. She's more powerful than you can imagine.

Amie had no time to listen and see how many bugs had received the message—Princess Celestia was already there. She landed before them, closer to the semicircle of armed ponies. That put the little negotiating party between her and the mine entrance.

Her glory was beyond even Amie's first glimpse of Princess Luna. So much magic radiated from her that a bug could probably feed just by standing in the same room. All that compassion she felt for her ponies, true parental love. This pony was more than just a ruler—she was borderline divine.

She was also much larger, as significant a difference as Queen Kaya was to the ordinary changeling drones. Her wings opened as wide as several ponies, and her mane flowed backward through the air as an iridescent rainbow of light and warmth.

As she touched down, every pony in attendance lowered their heads into a bow. Those who still carried weapons lowered them now, not daring to point them anywhere near her. Her arrival brought comfort from the army—but also its own feeling of fear.

So, she had that much in common with a changeling queen. That left only one who didn't bow—Amie herself. Instead, she changed, abandoning the pony disguise in a flash of magic. Otherwise, she kept all her hooves firmly planted, movements slow. If those unicorns got a little overzealous, if they decided she might be too much of a risk to their princess...

But whatever smug confidence boiled in Commander Path, it would soon be disappointed. "Commander Bravo Path," the princess said. Her voice was like so many other aspects of her—impossibly graceful and confident, loving and powerful. Everything a queen ought to be. Something for Amie to aspire to.

"I have inquired with the Office of Military Intelligence. I can find no evidence suggesting you were ordered to this offensive. Why are there ponies on this mountain?"

The pegasus kept his head down, both wings closed. Despite the princess's words, he still seemed confident. "Princess. We received a message from Canterlot. They attacked my household directly. Their infiltrators were discovered in the castle. When I heard this, I—"

"Ordered an attack without confirming it was authorized," Celestia interrupted. In an instant, the love and compassion in her voice hardened to a knife's edge.

"Spent the lives of your soldiers, and inflicted who knows how many casualties. Apparently, it did not occur to you that Equestria might have other intentions. Did your orders not clearly specify that you were only authorized to make a counterattack against the mountain if Agate itself was threatened? During my flight over, I saw no fires, no casualties—only ponies cowering in terror in their homes, fearing that we have become embroiled in another war."

Commander Path met her eyes. There she saw the first real sign of defiance, strong enough that her emotional senses could read it. "Somepony had to protect Equestria. My brave mares and stallions were prepared. Give them leave, and they will make Equestria safe forever. This one here admitted that her troops are unprepared. It will be an easy battle. We can finally have peace."

The princess's horn flashed, and the commander vanished from his place. The teleport was so brief that even the soldiers staggered back, confused. "I am now in command of this army," the princess said, raising her voice to carry back towards the more distant parts of the formation. "All of you, weapons down."

Those few ponies who still carried their spears all set them down. Swords slid back into sheaths, and crossbows fell limp against their straps. Ponies who had been watching attentively for the battle to stop were now entirely still.

Only then did the princess turn towards her. "I am told to expect one among your kind, changeling. Her name is Amie Blythe. Can you find her for me?"

She nodded. "I am her voice, princess. Her body is in your sister's tower. We can speak there, if you prefer."

The princess scratched her chin once, as though considering. Then her horn glowed again, and light filled the broken gift shop.

When it faded, it left several ponies behind—Beth and Ivy Path, settled beside a resting bat. Amie's real body.

"Better to have it here," Princess Celestia said. "We have seen enough bloodshed over delegation today. Is there anywhere we could have tea?"

Amie released the worker and stood up as a bat. She transformed again, growing into her full size. A few ponies gasped, reaching for their weapons. But any who did got a sharp glare from the princess and lowered them again.

"You may come inside. I'll show you the people Commander Path wanted to massacre."

Chapter 85

Amie took the princess through her nest, one floor at a time. She ignored the pointed stares of Natane, and the eyes of the queen watching through them. Her incredible disguise of an Equestrian casualty was instantly replaced, leaving her as an uninteresting pony.

She was not the only one—hundreds of Amie's swarm had other bodies of their own now. Many kept them all the time, even though maintaining a transformation required a little more magic. She could hardly blame them, when the alternative was seeing a disgusting bug reflected in the mirror.

Where Princess Celestia walked, the chaos and fear of her bugs faded to the background. They could not stand in the presence of such incredible magical might without being touched by it. Many who sobbed and clutched each other in terror sat up from their places as Celestia entered, watching intently.

Her presence brought more than magical warmth, though. Light came with it, and the heat of full sunlight.

"We came here as a summer camp," Amie explained, when they reached the first residential floor. "In my world, parents send their children for one or two weeks. They swim, climb, and adventure, then go home again. Their only adults are the counselors of each cabin—one guy, one girl."

The princess said nothing as they passed through the first floor. Her eyes were sharp, taking in every detail of the conditions inside. She saw their sleeping bags, makeshift furniture, and brackish canteens of water. Pain radiated from her, joining the simple background of compassion and concern for Equestria's ponies. She didn't just feel it for the bugs dressed up as ponies either.

"How many are there?" the princess finally asked, when they made it to the end of one corridor and circled back around to the beginning. "How many shelter here?"

"About eight hundred campers. Another two hundred staff. A little less, recently. We suffered... casualties, not sure how many yet."

The princess watched her, attention as sharp as it had been for any of the shelters and their frightened inhabitants. With her horn emitting a steady stream of sunlight, Amie couldn’t know if she was casting other spells. Maybe there were truth spells, or some other way to read Amie the way she could feel the princess's emotions.

"Slain by ponies?" the princess asked. "These... foals. My occupation commander took so many of your lives?"

"In the attack—maybe. There were some not present in the shelter when the airships arrived. I don’t know what happened to them yet. But otherwise, only a few. Most died to starvation--starvation caused by your occupation. We couldn't leave the mountain without being hunted and killed. There is a graveyard on the mountain, more than a dozen are buried there. Because instead of sending negotiators--hell, instead of putting up signs warning us not to leave--your occupation force just killed anyone who tried."

The princess’s expression remained inscrutable for a time. Amie was probably pushing her luck with every word--no matter the truth of the occupation, she depended on the Alicorn’s mercy. But now there was finally someone to listen, how could she keep silent?

“Equestria’s past experience with others who looked like you did not… suggest they were capable of negotiation. I am told the first encounter with your kind took pony lives as well. Whatever the circumstances, none of my officers thought it suggested you were any different. Before today, I didn’t question the commander’s judgment. I was mistaken.”

Amie bit back further argument for now. No matter her anger, she was in no place to make demands of this princess. They needed diplomacy now, even if Equestria hadn’t given them much reason to try.

"I see many of your kind wear other faces, though there are no eyes to mislead. Ponies, birds, and other creatures. Why?"

Amie lowered her voice to a whisper. In the dense corridors of her nest, there were many listening ears, and some of those would probably be close enough to overhear.

"Because we're monsters. The revulsion that twists the guts of every Equestrian when they see our kind—we feel the same thing. Unnatural, freakish creatures. We should not look this way. When we first arrived, we did not know our own powers, or our needs. Once we did, most choose to use it the way you see."

The princess followed her for a few minutes more, passing through another corridor of frightened bugs. This was evidently enough to satisfy her, because she waved them back to the top. "But now that I have, I am more confounded than before." The princess's horn brightened, leaving a shell of light around them. What privacy Amie tried to take with a little discretion, the princess solidified by magic.

"I know your kind. Changelings are understood in Equestria. We have had whispers of parasitic hunters for many generations—but only in recent years did any dare attack openly. I see the truth of my sister's words, without knowing how it is possible. You are changelings, and yet you are not. What are you?"

"Human," she answered. "We may look like bugs now, but we should be something else. Like..." She had none of her possessions with her anymore. Maybe her phone was rubble in her office, or maybe it was with her other belongings down in the nest far below the ground. Either way, she wouldn't be able to use it here.

Amie transformed. For the salvation of her species, for the lives of her campers and every bug yet unborn. She had two legs, not four. She had two arms, and soft pink skin. She had long blonde hair, breasts in the right place, small eyes and a flat face. She had her counselor’s uniform, her boots, even her name tag.

Amie dropped to the ground a second later, panting visibly with the effort. Sweat trickled down her body, and her heart raced. Yet despite all pain and difficulty, she had done it.

After months banished to an alien world, Amie was human again. She waited for the wave of relief and satisfaction, waited for the comfort of being herself after all this time. Nothing came. Instead, she found her balance, her movements lacking her usual grace and poise. Without a horn, she wouldn't even be able to levitate! Maybe if she found a place to stick some wings...

She abandoned the thought, and instead extended one hand towards the princess, fingers outstretched. When she spoke, she was back to her own voice—her real voice, lacking the strange reverberation, or the tone of another mouth. Instead of regal and proud, she found her voice strangely flat to her ears.

"This is how we should look. Before we were banished here."

The princess stopped dead in the hallway. In all this time, nothing had shocked the princess until now. This did. "Then it is true. You've come from beyond the Outer Gates. Your road took you from another reality."

Amie nodded. Those gestures still made sense, even if much about her old and new body left her lacking coordination and confidence. "I was researching where with one of my friends—Ivy Path, the unicorn you teleported here. I think she was close. Her notes are still in the Path family study."

Celestia's expression remained entirely unreadable. Yet in that silence, Amie read another kind of information, and her own fear grew in response. This entire time, the princess shared her feelings without resistance. That was clearly not because she wasn't capable of hiding them. She wanted Amie to know how she felt. Only now did she hold back.

"You were... intelligent," the princess continued. "Civilized. You built and loved and hated and grew. All in forms like that? Not equinoid."

Amie nodded faintly. "Is there something wrong? Are you going to... revoke your offer of peace?" Tears welled on her face, though Amie couldn't say where they came from. She'd been stretched so far beyond her normal abilities that it was all a blur at that point. How many times could she save her camp before she was the one who needed saving?

"Child, no. Of course not. If Equestria had known... if we had understood months ago, all this pain could've been prevented. This is not what I mean. It is the prospect of a return. There are..." She shook her head once, and her emotions became clear to Amie again. Pain, and regret. "Many of you may never see the soil of your home again. But explaining why would take time better devoted to other tasks."

Light flashed, and they were back in the upstairs meeting room. In the intervening time, a number of ponies and bugs had gathered there—counselors from below, a handful of staff. Tailslide of course, Beth, and Ivy. A single terrified-looking pony wearing a military uniform. Then Natane, lingering near the back in the shape of a different random pony.

Even so, her presence couldn't escape Amie's notice. Where she should've felt the emotions of the transformed drone, there was only silence.

"Quartermaster Spear!" Amie waved one fleshy hand in his direction, grinning in spite of herself. She couldn't resolve the weight of Celestia's painful statement, and all the truth it carried. The truth would come in its time—but other tasks would have to come first.

"What are you?" he asked, a little fear pierced by surprise. He wasn't the only one—several bugs turned towards her, pointing. She heard their thoughts, ranging from indignant to impressed. Many asked her to make them human again. All had been refused. Even now, she was fairly certain she couldn't create such a powerful transformation.

"Oh, right. You know me as..." She changed, and this time needed no incredible investment of power and focus. Giving up the human form was a bit like lowering her arms after holding them a long time—she settled back into a familiar, relaxed position.

Into Rain Fly, the unicorn who was just old enough to be going out on her own, lean and athletic from a lifetime of adventuring. "Remember me?"

He gasped. "All this time, you were... we were infiltrated! The commander's helpless daughter..."

"Not helpless," Ivy snapped, glaring at him. "Amie, you didn't have to show him like that."

Light flashed in the little meeting room, and another pony appeared beside them. The others all bowed afresh, muttering their obedience to Princess Luna.

Not Amie, though. Whatever gratitude she felt to the Equestrians, she was here representing Stella Lacus now. Director Albrecht couldn't help her anymore.

Luna eyed the cramped chamber, tail flicking rapidly in annoyance. "This is it? What a dreadful place."

"We would've met you in the staff building," Amie said. "But your navy turned it into a crater. This is all we have on short notice."

The princess nodded sharply. "We have heard. Another travesty to add to our growing list."

Princess Celestia's horn glowed again, and several chairs pushed themselves together near the center. A scroll appeared there, along with an elaborate quill pen. "Join me, Amie Blythe. Representative... or queen. What do you call yourself?"

Amie stiffened. Tears swelled involuntarily, as she thought back to their last, desperate defense, and the bug who fell there. "Director."

They spoke for a very long time, in what had once been the queue line of the minecart coaster. Surrounded by Celestia's bubble of silence, they discussed every possible aspect of the camp—what rebuilding it would be like, what should be done for the many bugs within, and what their relationship with Equestria would look like.

She had nothing to hold over Equestria—no threats she could make, or tools to bargain. Equestria had them in their power, free to enact whatever punishment they chose. They could exterminate them; they could extract violent retribution for the sins of the Erovores.

Even outside the bubble, Amie felt the watching eyes of Kaya on her. That bug waited attentively, watching for Amie's painful betrayal. When would the Alicorns tire of speaking to her and slash her belly open with their magic?

You cannot reason with barbarians. There can be no peace, only safety in obscurity. They are animals, not people. Your only reward will be the painful death of your tribe.

The knife did not come. Instead came hours of negotiation, pages and pages of formal treaty penned by the golden glow of an Alicorn.

In return, Amie held nothing back—except for what she knew about the other changeling tribes. She told them about her brother, about Rick and Beth's transformation, and what she suspected about what caused it. She told them about her relationship with Tailslide, about the eggs deep underground.

Five scrolls of dense text later, and they finally had a finished version of an agreement. Princess Celestia signed it, as did her sister. Finally, Amie added her own mark beside theirs.

"The treaty will require ratification by Parliament," Celestia explained, offering her one copy in her magic, before taking the other. "But after the attack—the Warhawk faction will have to argue with innocent blood on their coats. Commander Path’s actions cost the lives of pony soldiers and innocents defending themselves from attack. With him rotting in prison, their voices will be disordered."

"Many will be horrified when they learn of this,” Luna continued. “Canterlot’s heart may be hardened, but not the rest of Equestria. Here were creatures who had every reason to fight, and fought for peace instead. Foals starved.”

“We will ask no forgiveness,” said her sister. “This nightmare is beyond such things. In your place, I do not know if I could grant it. But with this treaty, we can at least work to undo some of the harm we’ve done. The murderous architect of this scheme will be imprisoned, and your tribe will have an opportunity to integrate peacefully into this nation.”

Amie nodded. The treaty wasn’t perfectly satisfying, of course. Others than Path were responsible for their suffering. But that was the mark of a successful compromise--both sides unhappy. If it meant her campers got to live, maybe that was enough.

“Equestria will not change overnight," Luna added. "Listen to a mare who understands better than most. Ponies are slow to change, and slower to forgive. It will be a long time before any of your kind are welcome in Canterlot. But this scheme—it may succeed. You will have a chance."

Amie accepted the scroll. She was crying again—but this time, she did her best to fight it back. "A chance is all we need."

Chapter 86

Amie watched the bugs of her swarm work over the wreckage of their home.

She still remembered the early days after the Transit. Back then, campers believed they were going to be swiftly returned to their homes. They thought of themselves more like victims than people who needed to work desperately to survive.

There was no hesitation this time, no large group of bugs doing whatever they could to avoid being in the same area as hard work. There was no one in Stella Lacus who didn’t want to be part of the camp salvage.

Several large canvas tents stood around what had been camp center, where the majority of human structures had once been. Unfortunately, this was also the most obvious target from the air, and thus where most damage was concentrated. Carts gathered around each one, mining ore carts meant to be pulled by ponies. Many had the markings of the FlimFlam Regional Excavation and Mineral Extraction Company over from nearby Motherlode.

Every bug had somewhere to help—be it digging through wreckage with magic, moving things with a powerful transformation, or just hauling carts around. Though no one said it, all present knew the terrible finality of the event.

Soon they would be leaving the camp behind—when they did, much of what connected them to Earth would be abandoned too.

Some structures had survived the siege, it turned out—the medical building, the camp store, and a few of the staff homes. The rest were basically a total loss. With no supply of raw materials or replacement parts, there was no way to rebuild Stella Lacus exactly as it had been.

Even if they had it, why should they want to? Its population weren’t “campers” anymore—they were the first generation of a new tribe, stolen from their home and given a new world to build. Their needs barely had anything in common with the original facility.

Many of her bugs were too young and small to risk themselves in salvage—those worked in support roles, helping with carts, fresh water, or just running messages for the others. One of those came jogging up to her now, mixture of griffon claws and pony hooves skittering through the gravel road.

“Director? Director, there’s someone at the train tracks to see you.”

They didn’t call her queen. Many of the bugs knew what form she wore under a pony disguise—but however widespread the knowledge, she still chose a willowy pegasus body as her typical around them. It meant giving up unicorn magic, but she needed practice with her wings too badly to give them up. Besides, some of her bugs needed a visual reminder that hands just weren’t required to live a productive life. If their leader could do it, then anyone could.

“The shipping company? I know they want to get us to Maneport. But if they think we’re gonna have this whole place torn down in three days…”

The child flared both his wings, pawing at the ground with clawed forelegs. “I don’t think so. She seemed way more… official. Knew your name and all. Only important aliens know who you are, right?”

That wasn’t quite true anymore—thanks to the Equestrian newspapers, half of the nation knew who she was by now. Surrendered queen, ruler of children and victims. Defender of the destroyed mountain. She’d lost track of the nicknames they used on her in the headlines. Let them use whatever names they wanted, use the scariest photos they could, so long as Equestria kept its treaty.

“What did she look like?”

“Uh… kinda like that.” The kid pointed with his foreleg, directly back the way they’d come. Another habit common to those who still hadn’t fully adjusted to their new form—using a leg you were standing on worked well enough indoors, but on a slippery gravel slope it swiftly meant he began losing his footing. He caught himself by flaring both wings, narrowly avoiding a ride down the path.

Amie turned to follow his gaze and stopped in place. A mare was working her way up the slope, one she had seen walk this exact path before. Her coat was yellow, her mane a mix of blue and pink. Agent Sweetie Drops.

Even at a distance, the mare was far less pained, far less depressed. An undercurrent of guilt followed her, unsettling enough that most bugs kept their distance. One followed close behind her, with a hunting bow over his shoulder. One of Amie’s “guards,” though she knew with certainty just how badly an engagement for him would go if it actually came to violence.

Agent Sweetie Drops looked like an adorable, helpless pony—but she was just as deceptively dangerous as Amie herself. Maybe far more, since she actually spent her life devoted to a difficult job. She had killed people before, which was more than Amie could say.

It might change later, but at that moment…

Amie broke into a trot, hurrying past the messenger to where her new visitor waited on the slope. The mare saw her coming of course and settled back onto her haunches to wait. Not that she was trying to avoid the hike of course—this earth pony could probably scale Everest without slowing down.

“Based on your reaction, I’m guessing I know you,” Sweetie Drops said. Gone was her oppressive exhaustion, replaced with the simple confidence of someone in a difficult job they understood. “Queen Amie?”

“Director Amie,” she corrected, returning the nod with a dramatic bow, flaring both wings. Not that any significant respect was owed to an ordinary pony visitor—but she enjoyed the drama. There were so many little feathers on those wings that one or two usually fluttered off whenever she moved so dramatically. Getting details that precise took skill that few of her bugs could yet imitate. “I could change if it would make things easier. There are some shapes you know better than others.”

The mare shrugged absently. Amie felt her slight undercurrent of resentment—but that was a small part of her feelings, not some overwhelming, obsessive hatred. “I realize who I’m talking to. It’s up to you whether you want to show me the truth.”

Amie tensed as she heard it, and the anger underneath. Their first encounter had come with Amie wearing the false face of a pregnant mare, taking her family to new opportunities in Motherlode. She had been carrying eggs at the time, though no other part of that story was true.

Amie changed. Blue fur vanished, replaced with a shiny black coat. She kept the mane, which changed to her usual deep green, long and braided. Even the style persisted between transformations, so long as she was careful.

In her real shape, Amie was taller than the mare by a few inches, and a head taller than any of the working bugs. Many of those stopped to stare, drawn by the intensity of their interaction. No matter how close her camp tried to simulate their previous human lives, there was no way to ignore the profound differences between pony and bug. Even in anger, Sweetie Drops radiated magical energy. Just because it was useless for harvesting didn’t mean they couldn’t feel it, like rain cascading off their coats they could not drink.

“The truth,” she said. “I don’t like how it makes me look. So different from the other bugs—people might start thinking that I’m lording over them, that I think of myself as more important than anyone else. Where I came from, we got rid of nobility and titles a long time ago.”

Sweetie Drops shrugged to one side. “Amie Blythe. You can cast your mind across continents, transform into impossible shapes, lay hundreds of eggs, and wear the bodies of your bugs like puppets. You are not the same creature.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, scratching wistfully into the gravel. “If you were, I think this camp would be a lifeless ruin now. Commander Path was so determined to make Equestria safe, he would’ve performed atrocities to do it. There would be no survivors to rebuild.”

“You didn’t make it easy for us to survive,” Amie admitted. She gestured past them with her transparent wings—at the wreckage that had once been the multipurpose room. The camp’s covered garage with its various vehicles was now a blackened husk, still smoking in places. Only one jeep survived, the one still parked outside the gift shop. It was the same story with so many other pieces of irreplaceable tech. The battery bank was intact, but most of the solar panels were scrap. “But if we want to move on, we have to give up blaming and making things even. Only thing I want for my bugs now is a chance to move forward.”

“I read the treaty.” Sweetie Drops circled past her, until she was directly in front of Amie. “It’s all noble and aspirational, a look into the future of Equestria and civilized bugs. But we still have to make it real. Writing it all down on a piece of paper is the easy part. In the end, real ponies and real bugs have to build it. Creatures need to stay willing to work with each other. They may not be so trusting.”

Amie waited for her to finish, watching in silence. But a few seconds later, and the mare fell silent too. “What brought you to Stella Lacus?” she finally asked. “Not that I don’t want to be a friendly host. But as you can see, we don’t have a place for visitors right now. We’re still getting ready for our move. Two weeks is the best I can do—I’ll get these bugs ready to ride before the first snow.”

Sweetie Drops started walking again, closing the distance between them and one of the many covered tents. This one had several open carts, each one filled with copper. Most of it was wire, or at least it had been, coiled out of walls or appliances or connecting infrastructure. The material was too valuable to leave behind.

“I’m not coordinating the transfer,” Sweetie Drops said. “You were there for the treaty, you… probably helped write it. I’m the Equestrian liaison. At least I will be until you’re settled into Maneport. Wasn’t another pony in Equestria who understood changelings as well as I did. And… was willing to go anywhere near you.”

Amie tensed, wings flicking open involuntarily. But there was no hostility in those words—the pony only sounded resolved. “I can’t think of a mare I would trust more to do that job.” She gestured at the working bugs, the sound of breaking metal and shifting rubble interrupted only by the distant hum of music from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. Not loud enough to make out the words at this distance. “I’m a little surprised you wanted anything to do with us. After the last time…”

Sweetie Drops continued up the path, until they reached where the gigantic multipurpose building had once stood.

Commander Path’s bombardment had reduced it to rubble so completely that there were only a handful of bugs combing over it, salvaging the heavy cables that had once connected its solar tiles.

Only the huge flagpole still stood, undamaged despite the assault. No spotlight remained on the oversized American flag that hung there. But the flag was also flying upside-down, along with who knew how many other violations of the flag code.

There were probably better places to dig a grave. They still had the rope course, and the fallen campers entombed there under simple wooden crosses. Albrecht’s own memorial was made of the same material, placed just beside the flagpole. With the rest of the camp in ruins, where else could they bury him? His widow was there most days, tending to the flowers, cutting back the weeds. To her credit, Amie knew she did the same for the other graves in camp. These dead would not be forgotten.

There was no longer anyone to care about such things—just one last desperate call for help that their home would never answer.

“I had the chance to go back. To Ponyville—beautiful little town. You should visit sometime, if you get the chance. It’s everything that makes Equestria great. I think the ponies there would’ve treated you different than these. But I refused. I thought—a crazy bug showed me there was another way.

“First, I thought it was impossible, that we would go right back to killing each other as soon as we got the chance. Now I think maybe she was right. SMILE’s vision was never about destroying threats—it’s about making Equestria safe.

“The best way to do that isn’t by breaking something, it’s turning an enemy into a friend. I think after Canterlot… some of us forgot. Including me. If we can make this work, one day I’ll ask for your forgiveness. I hope you’ll think about giving it to me.”

“If we can make this work, I won’t have to think about it very long,” she said. “But there’s a lot left to do before that happens. A lot left to build—and a missing brother I hope I can find.” Not to mention other bugs who might want to kill me for this. Even the orange tribe might not stay allies when it’s over.

“I would offer to help,” the mare said. “But we both know how good a job we’ve done tracking down infiltrating changelings. You should probably do it without our help. But keep in touch about how it goes.”

“The treaty,” Amie agreed. “We’ll keep it. If ponies can, things should work out pretty well.”

Chapter 87

How many ways were there to build a nation? The planet she came from had its own infinity of answers, each one leading to dramatically different outcomes. But across all of human history, she couldn’t imagine any would resemble the path that she had ended up on now. No one had ever needed to build a city using a population of children all transformed into new bodies, given strange new powers that none of them fully understood. All the while, they were entirely surrounded by a population who feared and hated them. At the first sign of hostility, their host nation could decide to wipe them out completely.

She had known this of course, and so did the Equestrian princesses who penned their treaty. They all knew the fundamental needs that must be satisfied to sustain the population, let alone give it a chance to thrive. This would be no accidental (or intentional) starvation.

She could’ve kept everyone living in the mine shelter, which they had expanded in various ways since first colonizing it. But using it to defend against a raid had taught Amie an important lesson: bugs might like living down there, but humans didn’t. What she had were as much the latter as the former. But some things—like creating conditions for eggs to hatch—outright required building underground. They couldn’t just abandon their instincts and build houses again.

It was a little after the first snowfall—but eventually the last preparations were made, all the bugs were ready, and they were prepared to leave. It took most of the hive’s workers to carry her eggs, now swollen to at least twice their original size, into carefully-insulated train cars. Her bugs all took on the shape of ponies, griffons, and other creatures, then loaded into a series of trains bound for their new home.

Some small part of Amie still expected some terrible betrayal waiting at the end of the ride. Equestria had essentially arranged free labor to dismantle the camp, gathering all of its artifacts and useful material into carts. All they had to do was eliminate a few pesky bugs left over after the operation, and their presence in Equestria could be erased.

She had every reason to fear, after the way her bugs had been treated thus far. But this time—things were different. There was no horror waiting, only what the treaty required.

Even Amie wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when she arrived—certainly not what she found waiting for them. Equestria promised housing that could fit their needs and give them room to do their own expansion in the years ahead—and so they provided it.

The town of Maneport was located in a place so familiar to Amie, she recognized the shape of the river bisecting the city. She knew the old cobblestone streets, and those where more modern construction built towers that stretched higher and higher into the sky.

It was to one of those that her expedition eventually traveled, a towering hotel located more or less directly on the riverfront. Signs proclaimed the structure was the “Grand Dressage,” with windows stretching high into the sky, and all the hotel amenities one might expect. Importantly, it was also surrounded by new construction, all of which now halted. Some of the steam shovels, diggers, and mixers still parked in that empty space, waiting for crews that would not return.

“Seven hundred fifteen guest rooms,” Bon Bon said, as they entered the sprawling wooden entryway. The whole facility looked a little like it had been abandoned for a nuclear disaster—many of the accouterments of life remained exactly where their past occupants had left them. Hotel uniforms hung from hooks, while the occasional suitcase or saddlebags lay abandoned. A few stray cups of coffee remained on counters, no longer steaming.

But the lights were on, and the floors were polished. “My letter from the princess told me it was the largest property they could find for sale on short notice. But it should match every other one of the treaty’s specifications. Plenty of other space to use how you want, room to expand and build whatever else you need. Access to water and electricity from Maneport, and deliveries of food that you may require.”

She said that last with a little trepidation, before flipping through the several printed sheets she carried and finally settling on one. “This arrangement you’ve made with the… Rent-a-Friend… I’m still unsure how you’re going to feed all these bugs. I saw what the conquerors did in Canterlot. There were a hundred times more of them, but… still. How much love can you send back?”

Amie continued through the empty lobby to the elevator. It was an old-style device, one with a simple up-down that required an operator’s constant presence. She stepped inside with her pony escort, then levitated the controls into the sharpest upward position she could.

The craft began its ascent, so fast that she briefly flared her wings in case she needed them to hold herself steady. But she didn’t—they were still enclosed in the protective shelter of the elevator.

“Changelings come in different tribes. I can’t tell you specifics about the others, but I know they eat different emotions. The ones who attacked Equestria were the Erovores—they ate love. We can eat it, but we can also eat lots of other things. Joy, satisfaction, hope, compassion…”

She slowed as they approached the top, easing off the upward speed. The door was only a metal mesh, giving her a clear view of the top opening as they approached. Just like the mineshaft elevator in their old shelter, this device could easily be destroyed by improper operation. She would need to decide very carefully what kind of bug would ever have the chance.

“That doesn’t sound like any one emotion at all.” Bon Bon tucked her printed copy of the treaty under one leg, stepping off the elevator with her. “That just sounds like friendship. You eat friendship? Which means… anything you get from the Rent-a-Friend will feed you.”

The top floor was far less packed with rooms than the lower ones probably were. This section contained a few suites, spread along the walls. Amie would make her offices here, along with housing her most important staff. But as for herself—she would make her accommodations far lower, deep in the lowest sub-basement. And lower, as soon as her bugs got around to digging it.

“You could say that. But eating friendship—does sound a little like there’s nothing left when we’re done. I guess it could work like that, but it seems so… destructive. That’s like taking a fruit tree that’s still producing oranges every year and cutting it down to make firewood.”

She picked one door at the end of the hall, then unlocked its bolt with a little magic. Equestria had special unlocking spells, but why bother when every lock was its own physical device, with a mechanism of some kind that could be pushed open. The magic was simpler than any of those lock opening videos on YouTube had ever been.

Through it was a vast stateroom, well-appointed with luxuries and common necessities alike. Bright red carpet, a kitchen filled with old-style appliances, a sprawling sitting room and a grand piano.

We’ll need to go through this whole place and see what we need. Better to sell off the good stuff over time and collect the extra bits. We only need one or two places that look this nice.

“I’m not sure how I should feel about that,” Bon Bon eventually said. “I guess it’s… good, that you don’t want to suck all the life out of a pony. You’re not monsters. But you’re still talking about friendships like they’re a resource. Oil wells to be drilled, mines to be tapped.”

“I wouldn’t pick those words exactly. But if you boil it down… friendships are a little like that for everybody.” Amie picked the largest picture window, looking out at the city beyond. The river outside was a single sheet of ice, broken only in the center by the fastest-moving flow. A powder dusting of snow covered every building, though the streets themselves were clear. A huge caravan of bugs surrounded this hotel, with campers and adult leaders alike waiting for her go-ahead to come inside and occupy the building. “Don’t you feel better after being around your friends? Don’t you want them to be happier, your relationship stronger? I know it worked that way before. It still does now, just—with some esoteric side-effects. Ponies don’t have to be worse off because they’re our friends. We can both win.”

She couldn’t keep them waiting for too much longer. Almost none of them weren’t wearing some kind of fur disguise right then—as much for the sanity of the city’s pony inhabitants as for their own. But fur or not, nobody liked standing around in the snow. Much less a population who watched their home get blasted and had to gather all the pieces with their own hooves.

“If it was that simple, I think bugs would’ve figured it out sooner.” Bon Bon followed her gaze, down at the milling camp. Of course, not all of Amie’s changelings were down there. Some remained with the Rent-a-Friend, both known and endorsed by Equestria’s authorities. Others carried their salvaged crates and wagons into the loading area beneath the hotel, where once they received fine furniture and rich food to cook for the wealthy guests.

Down there, where the pipes ran hot and the air was moist, she would make a new nest for her eggs. They would be hatching soon, after all.

It was a testament to the size of the structure, and the devastation they had suffered, that everything fit inside. “Why have no changelings tried living alongside ponies before? If they can take it without harming…”

Amie shrugged her wings. “Would you know if they had?”

Bon Bon had no answer for that. After almost a minute spent in silence, she turned to leave. “I hope you don’t mind if I make my office on the bottom floor. I’ve never cared for heights.” Then she was gone, leaving Amie alone with her thoughts.

And the occasional barking of the walkie-talkie. Finally, she levitated it up into the air in front of her. “Mona, start getting everyone in. Use the ballroom, which looked enormous. I don’t want anyone rushing off to try and claim rooms either—we’re going to be orderly about this. We’re using the system we voted on during the ride over. Anyone who tries to jump the line will get moved.”

The radio hissed, then Mona’s voice echoed in over the line. “Understood, Amie. Got some cold campers out here. Hope Equestria left the heat on.”

Amie should have headed down to meet them—but she lingered near the window. She felt something in the top of that tower—a pressure that held her in place, the anticipation of a gun not fired. Finally, a figure emerged from the darkness.

Natane, not wearing any pony disguise. Or walking around like a frightened drone, either. “Queen Amie—surrenderer. Occupied. Conquered by your enemies.”

Amie faced the bug directly. She opened both wings to full size, holding them ready. Not that there was anywhere to fly to. She saw no weapon in the queen’s magical grip, though that meant little. If she wanted to, Kaya could channel all kinds of incredible magical force through this drone. At range, the amount of raw power was quite limited—but the number of spells she knew was unrestricted. She might even be able to kill a queen.

“I don’t think of it that way. I wrote the treaty. I asked for this, and they gave it to me. Explain how that makes me conquered?”

The drone buzzed her way over, landing on the carpet a few feet away. She looked up, baring sharp teeth at Amie. “Don’t give me that, queen. You know the truth as well as I do. You’ve sacrificed obscurity completely. The ponies know your every movement. They know the position of your hunters; they know your intention for the city. There is no plan you can make to escape them now. They’ve given you a well-crafted cage, but it is still a cage. You crawled right into it.”

Amie met her eyes, unblinking and defiant. “I knew the risks. I knew what might be waiting for us here—but consider the opportunity. Equestria will allow my hunters into every major city. Under some supervision, granted. But I don’t know why that would upset me. We’ll soon have more glamour than we know how to spend. Glamour we could trade with your tribe. We may be few, but we may soon become rich. Equestria has no idea how much glamour is required, or how fast a genuine friendship can produce it. Don’t you think that’s worth the risk?”

“Worth becoming their slaves?” Natane asked. “That is the choice you have made. Not today, perhaps—not tomorrow. But eventually. Something will change, and their guilt will be replaced with revulsion. I hoped my involvement could spare you this pain. But here you are, digging deeper and deeper until there’s no salvation for you. Why couldn’t you listen?”

“I heard you fine, Queen Kaya. And I’ve been grateful for your advice at every step. But I cannot agree. You’re determined to see Equestrians as primitive, dangerous enemies. I think they can be our friends.”

“And I think your tribe is doomed to a slow, agonizing death,” the queen replied, laughing. “We will see which of us is right.”

Amie waved her off, and vanished down a hall. There were more important ponies to talk to now. If she remembered the schedule right, Ivy’s train from Canterlot should be arriving about then. They had a lot of catching up to do.

Chapter 88

"You're sure about it this time, Amie? I don't have to leave?" Rick settled comfortably into his wheelchair. He would be comfortable, with Beth pushing him gently along. The changeling wore no disguise to hide his true nature. But considering how much he had changed; the bug had the least to hide.

Rick's black shell was gone, replaced by several shades of blue melting to green near his hooves. Not the same bright colors as Wes, but clearly the same species. His wings had the same distinct look, hiding under a shell along his back whenever they weren't in use. Not all of those changes were clearly visible, not with bandages wrapped tightly across his chest.

Amie nodded from inside the hotel room. This was one of the smaller rooms, with only a single bed instead of a double arrangement. But considering the bugs she was assigning to it, Amie didn't think they would mind. There was no hiding a bug's feelings from a queen.

"I'm positive. You and Beth and every other bug who went out like you did—you've done your fair share for Stella Lacus. If you ever want to do some hunting out there, we'll happily accept whatever you bring. But there's no expectation of it. Besides..." She flicked the lights on, gesturing up against the wall. Several boxes and crates of computer parts—most broken, but some intact, peeked out through the door to the connecting room.

That caught his attention instantly. Rick's shell opened, and his wings buzzed once. He wobbled, rising halfway from the chair before Beth caught his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Relax, Rick. Can't walk again for another two weeks, remember? That shell won't harden right if you don't."

He grumbled, but accepted her ministrations, relaxing against the back of the seat. "Fine. What's all that?"

"Bits and pieces of tech stuff. Basically... everything that isn't people's personal devices that looked like it might turn on again. The intranet had already been moved to the mine, but there hasn't been anyone around who knows how to set it back up..."

He groaned, but otherwise kept his head down while Beth rolled him through the open doorway into the next room. Amie levitated the lights on as they came in, illuminating the now-empty space. Except for a desk, it contained only shelves and crates of equipment, waiting to be reassembled.

Rick swore under his breath. He reached towards something, and it levitated out of the pile. Even transformed, he still had the same range of physical abilities that any other bug did. Good thing he hadn't damaged his horn when he threw his life away trying to reach Beth. "The things you ask of me, counselor. Not sure how you expect anyone... we can't rebuild civilization with a room full of scrap."

She glanced back the way they'd come, dropping to one knee in front of him. "I know that. We will have to prioritize—focus on the best ideas, the things we can build with a small group. I don't expect you to be able to do that. But almost everyone still has their phones, and it would mean a lot to the camp if we could get the intranet back up. Would help keep people entertained before we turn this refugee camp into a town."

He grumbled again, tossing the broken piece of electronic scrap aside with his magic. "Today, yes. Maybe tomorrow. But that's exactly the kind of tech we can't replace. I give it... five years tops with any kind of network working. Most phone batteries will be shot by then..." He trailed off, staring down. "Please tell me we'll be back on Earth by then. I don't like that you're talking about building a town now, instead of escaping."

She stood up, turning her back on him. There would be no concealing how she felt, at least not completely. But she could still keep her feelings hidden from bugs who weren't ready for them yet. "Equestria is assisting with research. Princess Celestia has a special team organized as we speak. We should have their results by spring."

"Three months..." Beth muttered. "And you don't even think they'll do it. You were so optimistic before, counselor. Did something happen?"

It was Amie's turn to roll her eyes. "Awful things have been happening to us since we arrived here. But now that we're working with Equestria instead of hiding from them, I think they'll start to turn around." She backed away, retreating out the open doorway. "I've made arrangements to see you both get real food now.”

Beth transformed, getting bigger and taller—into the shape of a hippogriff. That meant she was larger than before, though still smaller than Amie. Her royal status still had advantages. "Part of me is gonna miss never having to poop.”

Amie shrugged, then left her bugs to themselves. She would follow up with Rick in a few days, assuming the intranet didn't come back by then. Considering he would have to sleep again; she would have to assume his time would be twice as constrained as the other members of her swarm.

Except for one, of course, one of those she was most eager to see again. But she didn't see Wes that day, or indeed not for several days to come. But she couldn't hunt for him, not with a whole new colony to worry about, with a thousand different little problems to solve. Not to mention the hunters in three different cities, all depending on her to keep them informed and make occasional updates through the worker around for communication.

Director Albrecht was gone, and with him all his knowledge and leadership skills. Bugs still seemed to respect Amie—she was the one who had secured their peace, after all—but she was also the one who lost the camp. It would take her considerable time and effort to make up all of that lost ground.

It was through one of her hunting workers that Amie finally saw her brother again. Late one evening in Agate, when the Rent-a-Friend was largely closed down as many of the hunting bugs returned to rest and relax before the next day's assignment.

Most of the ponies they worked with still didn't know about their presence, of course—their true nature was very much a trade secret, one that enabled the Rent-a-Friend to provide its customers with such interesting ponies and other creatures. Except for those few who requested specifically to meet a changeling.

Those customers would pay the largest dividends in glamour by far, just as Ivy had when she knew who Amie was and decided to accept her anyway. The same was true of Tailslide's acceptance, and ultimate affection.

Some part of Amie was still nervous when she heard scratching at the balcony window and sat up from her seat. The worker she used that night wore one of her familiar bat bodies, something instantly recognizable to ponies and bugs alike. Besides, not towering over them all made her more approachable.

She didn't draw a weapon—her own magic was more protective than anything she could hold with it. But Marcus did, lifting one of the construction mallets up off the table between them.

Despite meeting in the kitchen, there was no “food” here to share, at least not of the conventional variety. Only jars of glamour, and the bugs preparing them.

Amie was one of the first out onto the window. Then she saw who was waiting outside, and nearly fell over.

It was Wes, joined by a crystal pegasus stallion. Even at a distance, Amie guessed the pegasus must be a bug—no pony she knew could look so awkward and out of place while not actually doing anything. Then there was her brother, who might very well be a common pegasus by the way he flew and the casual way he landed there.

At least until he saw her and rushed through the opening to meet her. "Amie! I heard such incredible stories..."

"Some of them are true." She met him there with a hug, so tight and intense that she briefly lost track of time and might have lost contact entirely if her powers were a little worse. Such profound bursts of magic given to a worker almost helped them wake up, like she could feel the person underneath struggling to fight against heavy weight. Then they faded back to unconsciousness, their fingers slipping through hers.

Amie told him everything—the attack, Albrecht’s death, and the ultimate relocation to Maneport. She told him about Equestria's cooperation and the treaty, along with the various restrictions they would have to follow to uphold it.

She didn't want to share all that with him at first, not until he gave his word for his companion. "This is Thorax—new friend of mine. Met him up in the Empire. He's one of us, except..."

"From another tribe," Amie finished for him. "Not a big deal. I've met two tribes now. Guess you must be from the Gaudivores? Loquerisne Latinam?"

The bug met her eyes with a blank, featureless expression. Wes caught him by the shoulder, so he couldn't retreat. "Not them. Different bugs." He changed right there, his body flashing briefly with light, before returning to his usual colorful outline.

Not that the bugs inside this particular kitchen were being terribly stealthy. They worked with little jars of glamour, even though none of them were bugs themselves to disperse and distribute the stuff.

Amie sighed, then changed herself—shrinking down smaller than her brother. But it wasn't hard to be the smallest in the room when her workers were taken from the weakest in camp. "There. We're all friends here."

"Friends," Thorax repeated. "Bugs who are friends. How do you have enough to give?" He changed in an instant, far faster than even Amie's own transformations could be. This bug was a master of the craft, someone who had taken new bodies for himself since a young age.

He was taller than most drones, bigger than all but a handful of her adult leaders. But not “old,” whatever that meant for a bug. He was still strong, his blue frills vibrant.

Blue. That meant...

Amie's own snapped to attention, and she retreated from him. "You. You're one of the Erovores. The reason everypony in Equestria hated us to start out with. Wes, do you—"

"I know." He caught one of her hooves, pushing it back down. The bug beside him retreated a few steps, flaring both wings in preparation to fly away. But those wings didn’t look quite right, catching the air like sheets of glass more than transparent insect flesh. But he didn't flee, possibly because of Wes blocking the retreat. "Amie, it isn't his fault what they did. Their individual bugs barely have any free will at all. He didn't decide to invade, any more than we decided to invade the countries ours attacked back home. He was just along for the ride."

Amie closed both her wings, looking the stranger up and down. Of course, she wasn't the only one paying attention now—with her energy, Marcus appeared behind her. A handful of smaller bugs watched from the other, their little containers of food briefly abandoned.

"I just hope you thought hard about bringing him here," Marcus said. "This whole friendship thing needs secrecy. If it's common knowledge what we really are, I think we'll lose them. They're not quite ready to just be friends with bugs in the open."

"This is confusing." Their guest made his way in, inspecting the table before looking back at Wes. "All this food. There's barely any hunters in here! How did they catch so much love?"

"Love isn't really my jam," said one of the other kids. "We talk about technical stuff mostly. She just wants somebody to listen to her."

"I think my client can tell I'm not a real pony. But he feels so bad for me—the stuff we do together is more about teaching me to be normal. He'd never admit it, but... I can tell."

The others each shared their own opinions of the craft, each focused on the kind of food they collected. The more they spoke, the more bewildered Thorax became.

"You're... really bad at this," he finally said, settling down on his haunches. All fear was gone from him, replaced with curiosity. Maybe a little amazement, focused on that wealth of glamour on the table between them. "Hunters like you shouldn't be able to feed yourself, let alone any of the swarm."

Wes puffed up his chest, apparently proud of their little display. "Because we're actually friends with ponies. And probably because the ones who come to a place like the Rent-a-Friend are really desperate and sad. They're far away from home, and they want somepony to confide in. But the same thing can happen with ponies who aren't with the company, can't it Amie? Your boyfriend..."

"I saved his life," she said flatly. At that particular word, she felt a sudden rush of tension from Marcus. The bug couldn't just miss the emotions between them when they were together. But he also hadn't given up on her. If she behaved like other changeling queens, he probably wouldn't have to.

But she didn't yet."But yeah. Ponies are just people. Anything that would work back home will pretty much work with ponies. Be yourself, be friendly, be attentive and kind and they'll like being around you. Collecting glamour might be the mission, but we aren't here to force it. It'll just happen along the way."

"I'd like to... stay around and observe for a few more days," Thorax said, lowering his head to her. "I assume you must speak for the queen. Can you ask her for permission?"

Wes laughed. A few of the others did too—but not Amie. She kept her face neutral. "Sure. Just so long as you make sure my brother makes it back to Maneport when you're done. I'll sleep a lot better at night with him under the same roof. Or I... would. If I slept."

Chapter 89

Weeks turned into months, and winter came and went outside the walls of the Dressage Hotel. Much changed in that huge building, beyond renaming it to Stella Lacus and expanding into new structures in the newly-vacated buildings around it. Some of those were other facilities they needed—a shipping warehouse and processing center, along with the largest Rent-a-Friend in Equestria.

There, under a different brand name, creatures of all kinds could come and meet with changelings—and anything else they wanted to meet. With some of the bits and extra time, they recreated a few simple homes from Earth to turn into a living museum, worked by the handful of exceptionally talented bugs who could make that transformation.

But few ponies were even interested in seeing what “humans” looked like. They wanted the tiny-sized bugs to talk to them instead, retelling their tragedy of getting ripped away from their homeland.

Ponies had a great many useful emotions to harvest along the way, but one of the most developed of those was compassion. Once outside the shape of a gross bug, ponies usually felt a little empathy for their plight. How much better would they have done in the human world?

Amie didn't have to contemplate that particular nightmare, thankfully. She had more than enough on her plate keeping the little colony running. She had help—from old friends and new, from her boyfriend and her workers. Good thing, because the original staff of Stella Lacus could never manage such a large group alone.

Equestria provided a great deal of services along the way. Teachers for their school, shipments of food for the small but growing number of bugs who preferred to eat it instead of glamour, and protected access to their city for hunting and recreation.

Amie had lots of boring paperwork to fill out—the location of every bug she sent, what their disguise looked like, and what they were doing. Eventually she set up an office to handle all of that, just as Equestria formalized the single overseeing pony into a diplomatic liaison.

No new eggs came, despite her time with Tailslide. Every bit of wisdom in the knowledge of the orange tribe suggested their union should not have brought anything alive into the world to begin with. So, she didn't worry too much about keeping it going. Queens needed company too. Besides, as the eggs started to hatch, they demanded even more attention from her workers, so much that plenty of ordinary campers got involved to pick up the slack. The wriggling, maggot-like larvae had so little in common with children as Amie knew them that some small part of her still got sick the first time she saw one.

But that part was quickly silenced when she felt their emotions. No matter how freakish they looked, the little bugs still loved her as their mother. Even Tailslide managed not to run away, somehow, though he seemed far less optimistic about how they could raise so many.

“When they look like… when they’re bigger,” he said one night, when the last egg finally hatched. “Am I supposed to provide for them? That’s what stallions do.”

She laughed. “No. But if you’re here, if you can teach them what you’re good at--how to be brave, and kind, and fly--that would be perfect.”

By spring, they had sprawled down under the ground another four levels, burrowing narrow tunnels and cells for the workers as well as plenty of other bugs. There was something instinctively comforting about being in a tiny space—so why force her kids to hang up curtains and use cushions if they could build the space to purpose the first time?

It helped that the vast majority required almost no sleep, and very little water. They had plenty of time to study and work and maintain their space. Soon the young radiated resentment at their confinement—but Amie would not budge. Anyone younger than sixteen would have to wait before going on remote hunting trips. Though if peace with Equestria lasted, they might be able to vacation further out of Maneport.

Whenever bugs asked when they were going home, she always gave the same evasive answer: Equestria was working on it. They would soon have all the magic in the world to bridge the gap. If it was possible to get home again, they soon would.

Except for the day she had to break the news. Eventually all the research was done, and the answer was in. That painful day nearly broke the resolve of her bugs, taking away one distant hope they had all been striving for.

But they were not completely lost. Over the next few weeks, Amie and her most loyal bugs took each and every citizen aside with their best camera to record a message. They had very limited space to work with—but she insisted they sacrifice enough to make the messages audio instead of simple text. Except, of course, for Albrecht’s letters for the dead. Those campers couldn’t record anything for their families. But she could think of no better final message than the ones he wrote. At least that way, they could have closure.

Finally, they were prepared. Amie had a tiny stack of micro-SD cards, bound together in a little plastic case, and sealed with glue.

She brought it all the way to the site of their original camp—mostly empty now, aside for a few makeshift monuments. Largest of these was to Director Albrecht, with a monument of broken wood that always had at least a handful of flowers scattered around it.

The Equestrian expedition had even added a few. Though whether any of them even understood what the little cross meant, Amie couldn't say. She didn't intend to ask.

The monumentality of the task before them was obvious from every aspect of Equestria's magical infrastructure. Vast metal devices pronged with crystals all stood in a line, humming together with a refrain that was almost usual to Amie's ears.

The magic here was so powerful she could barely think straight. It brought the trees and leaves and flowers to verdant life; it made the colors seem more vibrant.

How long could she have fed her camp with this much power? Granted, it wasn't the same kind of food her bugs needed. This was a bit like parking her gasoline car next to a high voltage line and expecting it to somehow refuel. Powerful energy yes, but not in a form any of them could use.

"Transit point is coming with the sunrise," called Sunset Shimmer, the Equestrian expert in universal travel. She wore a hard-hat and a magically insulating vest, just like every other pony on the grounds. Amie walked behind her, wearing the same outfit and treading only on the insulated foam panels.

She wasn’t the only one, either. Sunset Shimmer had a representative of Stella Lacus on her team, one that Amie could trust, but who wouldn’t alarm any of the scientists or get overwhelmed by the constant magical energy.

Amie only waved to Sunset, but she met Ivy Path with a hug. The young mare was a little taller than the last time, and had finally started filling out that lanky frame. Still much shorter than Ivy, given she didn’t look like a pony right now. “You made it!” she said. Then she let go, looking up. “I can’t believe something like that can really exist.”

“By some definitions,” Amie said. “But believe me--if you think I look weird, the ones on the other side would be terrified if they saw a changeling.” She walked forward then, on bare feet instead of hooves.

Of all the times she needed to recreate a human body, this was perhaps the most important. That earned her plenty of stares, along with numerous flashing bulbs from the press waiting behind the cordoned line. If it were up to her, none of them would be here for this.

Every bug couldn't make the trip to see this moment. Instead, each group nominated one, and most of those had working cell phones or other cameras to commemorate the occasion.

At least Sunset Shimmer was too professional to be intimidated. She acted like she’d seen humans before, or something like them. "You get ten minutes at most. Probably much less than that. It would be longer if you weren't trying to send material through."

Amie clutched the little box closer to her chest, squeezing it tight. "I couldn't go without it. My kids are waiting to say goodbye to their families. The people on the other side deserve some closure too. Just one message from the camp isn't good enough."

Sunset shrugged. "No judgment, just reminding you of the mathematics. Plan for ten minutes, and you won't be disappointed. After that, you're just waiting on Celestia's grace. Maybe we get lucky, maybe we don't."

She gestured at a little metal box, surrounded by thick wires and cables. Its little door opened, exposing an interior space barely large enough for her plastic case packed with microSD cards. Amie set it down inside, then backed away.

"Hope you don't expect me to get small enough to fit in there with it. I'm not that good. Never met a bug who was."

Ivy laughed, barely audible over the roar of distant thaumic generators. "You're not really going over. It’s just an illusion!”

"I know," Amie held out one hand, stopping her. "Let's not miss the sunrise."

Sunset escorted her to another open door, near the center of the machine. Several crystal lenses all pointed at a raised platform between them, each one glowing with a different kind of magic. "Stand here and brace yourself. Even for a creature as magically tolerant as you, the exposure will be... difficult. You might take weeks to recover."

"I'll be ready for it." Amie stepped up onto the platform. Boots shifting on the not-quite-glass surface. Technically speaking she wasn't wearing boots—her clothing was just an illusion, offering no protection against the elements or physical utility. But today of all days illusion was what she needed. She removed her insulation vest then, resting it on a waiting hook. It might be protecting her--but it would also prevent the spell from working.

Sunset levitated the metal cage shut behind her with a bang. "Right there, don't move! We're engaging the—"

Amie wasn't in a cage anymore. She wasn't surrounded by ponies and wires—she wasn't even on her familiar mountain.

Instead, she stood on a piece of perfectly flat ground, as though sliced out of the planet with a knife. Only—it didn't continue that way forever. Several structures rose from it, built in an uneven circle. At the center was a spire of white rock, ascending a few stories up into the air. Gardens surrounded it, arranged in little grow-boxes.

As she watched, several boy scouts worked with a single ranger—a young woman, who might've been in the forest service, or maybe a branch of the military.

At her command, the flag went up, rising almost as high as the monument behind it. At least until she appeared.

All eyes turned on her. The bugler dropped his instrument, though the two kids holding the flag managed not to drop it. Amie grinned, waving enthusiastically at the ranger. "Hey! Hey! Are you... Is this Stella Lacus?"

She was the first one here—maybe the oldest, though that might not be true for long. A little parking lot now had a place on the strange flat stone, and a few dozen vehicles were already waiting. Now people emerged from windows, pointing their cameras in Amie's direction.

"How did you... how did you do that? Who are you?"

“My name is Amie Blythe. I was a counselor at Stella Lacus.” She held out one hand. As she did, the air flickered and fuzzed, then solidified into a piece of plastic. Light exploded from around her, little bolts of lightning that crashed into the stone, sending bits of it scattering in all directions. Where they struck, bright green plants sprouted, surrounded by hundreds of little flowers in orange and yellow.

Then it passed through her fingers, and clattered to the ground with an empty, plastic sound. She glanced down, glaring at it.

Then she turned her attention back up again. "Listen, could you pick that up? It's... kinda the most important thing in the world to about a thousand kids. Please make sure their families get these.”

The ranger stepped between her and the watching scouts. She kept her distance, one arm raised in front of her. As though that would make any difference against a magical attack.

"Amie Blythe—" someone said, behind her. One of the scouts, with his hand on the plaque. "She's on here, last name on the staff section."

Last name? I wasn't the least senior counselor! But she hadn't come to inspect the quality of her memorial plaque. She could imagine how her bugs would respond when they heard the news. Maybe she shouldn't say anything. "Yes. I'm communicating to you from... where Stella Lacus ended up. I have video of everything—and messages from the campers and staff. It's right here on the ground, if you could pick it up."

"You should." The ranger lifted her walkie-talkie towards an ear, the transmit button held down. But she wasn't talking into it specifically, more holding it where it could hear what they said. "If you want me to have it so bad, you should hand it over."

She backed away from the box, holding out both hands as she did. "Can't. I'm not really here. Just... transmitting. It's a hologram, or—something so close it might as well be the same thing. I couldn't get more detailed than that."

"Are you a ghost?" asked one of the other boys. They weren't that old—could have fit right in with any of her campers. Except that he, like everyone else here, was human. Two legs—machines, people, plants... it was her home! She couldn't say completely returned, since of course she wasn't really there. Only looking across, like Moses into the promised land.

"Kinda. Except I'm still alive. Stella Lacus is too. But we're... out of reach. Because... well, it's all in those files. If you could get them, make sure the authorities get to read it all. We're safe, but we can't come home. Ever."

Finally, the ranger made her way over. She bent down, then scooped up the little plastic case in one hand. She gave it a shake, holding it up to the light. "Memory cards?"

Amie nodded. "They're numbered. It looks like you never figured out what happened to us on this side. You're about to hear it! And see it and read about it. Sending matter across was... very difficult. But we tested, and the data should still be intact on those things. It wasn't electrical or magnetic."

She already heard sirens. For once, they didn't give her anxiety. This time, they were probably the right people.

Amie turned in a slow circle, soaking in the warmth of her home one final time. Technically speaking, she was one of the few beings magically durable enough to survive this projection. Maybe in a few years, she could try again. But she couldn't imagine Equestria's generosity would last much longer than its guilt. It would be a long, long time before changelings had the magical power to send things on their own.

"What happened to you?" the ranger asked, running one finger down the plastic clasp. It didn't open—the case was sealed, so none of its contents could be accidentally lost. Someone was going to have to cut it open.

"More than you can imagine," she said, without thinking. "But we survived it, that's the important thing. More details are in there. Make sure the families get them. Make sure they know—we're okay. We built something there. Made some friends. And they're taking good care of us."

She turned directly towards the scout holding the camera, staring at the lens. "Mom and Dad—Wes is safe. We both are. I'm sorry we won't get to see you again. I should've let him stay."

She wiped her eyes with her arm, but that did little good. She was still crying. She was crying in the recording, and no telling how many would see it.

Oh well. There were worse fates.

Amie never heard the reply. As it turned out, the spell lasted quite a bit less than ten minutes.

She returned to an explosion. She dropped to the ground, losing her disguise in an instant. She smelled burning, and realized it was coming from her mane. She'd melted it short, not even falling to her shoulders.

Amie dropped to the side, body smoking from the magical energy.

The door banged open, and ponies rushed in around her. Ivy Path was at the front, her expression urgent and fearful. "Are you okay?"

She nodded in reply, letting them help her to her hooves. "Y-yeah. There was someone there... someone to take the recordings. I did it."

"What did you tell them?"

"We wouldn't get to see them again," she answered. "But that we were okay. We found a place. One day, we'd make it home."

Author's Note

And that's the end of Don't Bug Me. Thanks so much to every reader who made it this far--I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed telling this particular story.

Writing fanfiction for Fimfic instead of traditionally formatted novels allows for a very different scale and form-factor than could ever exist with conventional books. Even so, I often find myself constrained by the practical realities of daily life. As much as I would love to keep telling stories like this one--sooner or later every one must come to an end.

This leaves many aspects unexplored I wished I could've given whole chapters. This one feels particularly cruel, because in another era it might have had the word count of something like Message in a Bottle, and thus the chance to explore its world to the extent it deserved.

Two of these weaknesses are chief in my mind: Thorax, and not exploring the other changeling tribes. Writing serial fiction instead of all at once, I often end up coming to the end of a story wishing I could go back and do things differently. Alas, time does not permit. Sooner or later every story must be--if not finished, then abandoned.

Wes deserved his own plot line, exploring the crystal empire and meeting Thorax, then their journey back. I would've liked to see what the Romans and other changeling tribes were like too, maybe even take a peek at their homelands. Alas.

I'm still happy with the end result, and proud of the journey we got to take. What's that old expression, the perfect is the enemy of the good?

Thanks so much for coming along. I hope you'll join me for whatever exciting adventure is waiting around the corner.

-Starscribe

Chapter 1

Amie loved Adventure Camp. She loved camp so much that she pressured her little brother into going, even after she turned nineteen and could only stay as a counselor.

Her brother Wes didn’t enjoy being up in the mountains quite so much, didn’t enjoy the hiking and pioneering and paintball games in the woods. But he also didn’t have the guts to just outright tell her no. The season was mostly over now—another two days, and he would be headed home.

“Lame way to spend your last night.” She nudged her way into the large tent. Wes had no roommates—none of his nerd friends from back home had any interest in Adventure Camp. But that was okay, it meant it was less awkward for her to stop by and visit. There were no weird questions to be answered about camp protocol when she was only visiting a family member. “If the rain gets much worse, you’re going to get flooded out. We’re doing sketches in the multipurpose building. Should be fun.”

Wes looked up from his cot, placed right in the center of the tent. It was a big tent, military surplus style, situated on a wooden platform. The clear plastic windows gave them a steady view of the pouring rain outside. The rigid canvas kept out some of the wind, enough that the book in front of Wes didn’t flutter.

“Already have my stuff off the ground. Packed up, ready to go.” He pointed at the backpack sitting atop his bed. “If we get more than an inch of water out there, we have bigger problems.”

She rolled her eyes, then pulled over the camp chair, facing him. The sun wasn’t down yet, but the clouds were so thick that she couldn’t see it. There were only different shades of gray up there, thicker in some patches than others. And growing darker all the time. “Lots of other campers are talking about sleeping in there. Sure you don’t want to head up there?” She flicked her fingers against the electric lantern hanging from a hook over his bed. “We have real electricity in there, and company.”

He looked away, shifting uncomfortably in the cot. “Can’t you feel it, Amie?”

She rolled her eyes. Her brother had always been a little strange. But so was she, coming out here every summer to kayak down the canyons and hike back up again. He had barely done any adventuring, and already he was about to head home. “Feels like you should’ve made a few more friends, maybe. Is that it? I can do a sketch with you if you don’t have anyone. We could do the ice cream man one again. Almost nobody’s back from last year.”

He flipped his book closed, annoyed. “It’s not that. I could have someone to do sketches with if I wanted. But it doesn’t feel like we should be in there right now. There’s like… pressure. How can you not feel it?”

Amie couldn’t feel it, but she could hear laughter on the wind, carried all the way to her from the center of camp. They’d probably started by now.

Amie didn’t have her own group this year—instead, she was the “Pioneering” instructor, which meant she was out with different youth all the time, teaching knots, building things, or hiking with them to interesting places. Not children, thankfully—Adventure Camp only had teens.

“Last chance to change your mind.” She rose, straightening her short-shorts in preparation for getting them soaked again. Less cloth wouldn’t do much to keep her warm, but at least it meant less to dry. Just a few minutes in the tent had already started drying her out. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but they’ve got ice cream for after. Might even do a movie later.”

Wes avoided her eyes, fiddling with the book on his lap. She turned to go, but then his hand darted out, catching her by the wrist. She opened her mouth to reply, but her words were drowned out by a deafening peal of thunder. It was so loud it hurt, so loud that she should’ve gone completely blind from the lightning. Where was it?

“Wait,” he said, or she thought he said. “One more—” Then came the flash. It was so incredibly bright that Amie screamed, falling sideways to the floor in her vain attempt to shield her eyes. But it didn’t help, and the pain kept growing. Before she even realized what was happening, Amie was unconscious.

Amie woke slowly, to a body that was overwhelmed by sourceless pain. It was worse than simple pain—Amie couldn’t tell where she was, or how she had gotten there. It was damp, and dark, and cold. Worse still, she didn’t feel as though she were properly dressed. Her first thought was a nightmare, that she had somehow been separated, caught by herself, then…

But no. Nothing like that had ever happened at Adventure Camp, at least not this one. What was happening again? She opened her eyes, and found her head was on its side. Something dark obscured some of her vision, a black blob that extended slightly ahead.

She recognized the regular wooden pattern of the tent platforms, though that didn’t tell her much. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of completely identical tents just like this all over Adventure Camp. She didn’t use one of them anymore, now that she was a counselor. That must mean she was visiting her brother?

Something moved behind her, something that somehow responded to her realization. A contented buzzing, from… a pack of nearby dragonflies? It sounded a little like that, except much louder than any real insect had any right to be. “Deep breaths, Amie. We’re standing up.” Her hands felt wrong, her arms were totally out of shape. But she settled them against the ground under her, then tried to push herself into a sitting position.

But her arms didn’t move the way they should. Instead of flinging her upright, she rose onto her arms-and-legs, enough that she could wobble forward. She ought to be feeling so completely out of balance, but somehow her arms weren’t out of length with her legs.

Whatever was going on, the tent was particularly cold and wet. Standing on her hands and knees did little to alleviate just how oversized the place felt. At least her disorientation was fading. She remembered what she was doing here, visiting her brother, trying to encourage him to socialize with the other members of camp.

Her sight still gave her trouble, struggling to focus even on the objects right in front of her. It wasn’t the darkness—despite the absence of a lantern, the little trace of moonlight coming in from the window was more than enough for her. She must be adjusted to the light. But when she looked down at her arms, nothing she saw there made sense.

There was no smooth skin, with the slightest suggestions of muscle won through a season of great athletic effort. Instead what she saw was charcoal black, far more reflective than even the greasiest skin could possibly be. There were at least a few other marks, or dents—which made no sense from above. What happened to me?

Her disorientation was fading fast, or else she might’ve suspected hallucinogens. But she was still thinking clearly. Her brain was fine, it was her senses that didn’t work. “Wes!” she yelled, with the same volume she might’ve used to get the attention of campers who were wandering off. “Where are you?”

She stopped short after just a few seconds, eyes widening. Even her voice sounded strange, reverberating in her throat like she’d swallowed a piece of plastic. What was going on? Amie tried to stand again, lifting up into the air, and nearly managing it this time.

But her center of balance was completely off. Something moved on her back, buzzing again in a vain attempt to keep her upright. But a few seconds later and she flopped back onto the floor, landing with a strange click instead of the soft thump of flesh.

“Wrong… wrong… this is all wrong.” She hummed to herself, barely vocalizing the words. The more she saw and heard of her own body, the more she remembered Kafka. She needed to see what had happened to her, then look for help. Guess you were right, Wes. Something bad was coming.

She tried to stand a few more times, before giving up completely. Her body just couldn’t move that way, another painful detail she would have to cope with. She didn’t have arms anymore, but four legs, and both her hands and feet still seemed numb. Lifting one close enough to inspect confirmed what she could already feel along the ground. There was only a shiny black surface, with a softer, sensitive section under a tough ridge. More like a horse than an insect, despite the other details.

Finally she found what she was looking for—one of the polished metal tent-poles, shiny and chrome. It distorted her reflection almost as much as reality already had, stretching the alien face. Yet for all that, the features were distinct.

Opaque green eyes, much larger on the face than they had any right to be. But for their size, they were far too alien to seem innocent or friendly. If she looked closely, she could see many separate segments, like looking into the face of a fly.

The rest of the body didn’t look much better. There were holes in her arm, and sharp fangs emerging from her mouth. She already knew she was standing on her arms and legs, but her reflection showed her a body probably meant for it. Her back was a shiny, multijointed shell, one that opened on complex organic joints as she thought about it.

Wings emerged from underneath, clear and laced with thousands of intricate veins. Like little transparent snowflakes.

Amie squealed in surprise, retreating from the mirror. Her wings closed on their own, and now that she knew what she was sensing for, she could feel them distinctly. Protected against her back with a hard shell, but ready to emerge if she needed them. Absolutely disgusting.

Compared to that, the rest was basically what she expected. Frilled, insectlike features, with black, reflective tissues and green accents throughout, similar to her eyes. The only other strange detail were the holes.

Her legs and tail (which she had) looked like she’d lost a fight with a particularly aggressive holepunch. God only knew how that worked for the strength of her skeleton, if she even had one. But there was no blood and viscera leaking from inside. At least her torso or eyes didn’t have those openings.

Her clothes lay on the floor behind her, ripped right off, or just cast aside. But there was nothing left for them to cover on her chest, anyway. Horses kept all that somewhere else.

But I’m not a horse. I’m someone’s nightmare of a horse after a hundred Benadryl.

She searched around the room for something to use to cover herself, but quickly gave up. Her tank-top and shorts just wouldn’t serve any useful purpose here. Wes’s bag was still sitting on his bed, along with some more clothes. The jacket and sweats he’d been wearing. I’m not alone, am I?

Protecting herself was important, but she would have to make sure her brother was okay. Maybe they could face this together.

She poked her head nervously from the tent. The rain had stopped completely, along with the storm. The sky was clear, and filled with thousands of stars. Yet the familiar amber glow of camp lights still shone, directing her towards the center. She could hear voices that way too, many of them. The cheerful giggles of camp were gone, along with the energetic conversation she would expect from a night of fun. Did they change too?

Amie ignored them for now, scanning the mountainside around them for signs of her brother.

She could see nothing. Yet if she closed her eyes, she could feel the direction he had gone. He left a smell in the air, a faintly citrus aroma that reminded her of curiosity, twinged with the bitterness of fear. She knew instantly what those strange sensations meant, with the same certainty that she knew that she had to find her brother.

Wes is probably losing his mind right now. She might too, if she couldn’t find some purpose for herself. Before she could second guess, she darted out into the forest.

Chapter 2

Amie couldn’t really run anymore.

Her strange new body didn’t seem injured, despite the openings in her legs. She saw no blood emerging from those holes, or anything worse. But just because she wasn’t dying didn’t mean she was okay.

She hobbled through the underbrush, which looked distinctly larger than she remembered. Grasses and wildflowers made it past her knees. Where there were no trails of trees, the foliage grew thick enough to make her vanish completely. Part of Amie wanted to walk that way, sneaking covertly instead of traveling out in the open.

She could see no sign of other occupants outside, at least not by her brother’s tent. There were many others extending down the hill, but he hadn’t gone that way. Wes just wasn’t the kind of person to look for help from other people. If something went wrong, he was going to run off on his own until he could fix it.

Not this time. We’re fixing this.

Amie never felt the need to pull out a flashlight to see what she was doing. The half-moon gave her more than enough to see. More importantly, it was enough that she could see the trail her brother had chosen. Lookout Point was the shortest of many hiking paths near camp, which led to a rocky promontory about half a mile from the trailhead.

It gave an excellent view of the camp at night, and the whole countryside during the day. Wes could hide there and see anyone coming long before they got there.

The PA system hissed and squeaked, loud enough that Amie felt her ears twist, pressing themselves flat against her head. It didn’t really help, that was just one more confusing feeling she couldn’t quite place.

“All campers and staff please report to the multipurpose building. Please remain calm.”

Amie did not recognize the speaker by their tone. But some of that was probably the strange tenor of their voice. It reverberated just as unnaturally as her own. It was unnerving to listen to, like fingernails scraping against glass. And I sound just as bad.

“Report to the multipurpose building. Do not panic.” With another squeak, the speakers went silent.

The others went through this same thing. That was good and bad—good that she wouldn’t have to hide from the other campers. They faced this impossible situation together. But was this isolated to Adventure Camp, or had the entire world been suddenly cursed by a malevolent god?

She ignored the order for now, speeding up as she made her way up the trail. The gravel was incredibly uncomfortable against her hooves, but the alternative meant walking through mud. But from the regular marks alongside the trail, that was what Wes had done.

She found him right where she expected, near the lookout. He sat on a large boulder, right behind the wooden fence that separated visitors from a plunge of nearly two hundred feet. “Wes! Wes, why’d you run?”

There was no hiding her voice. Maybe she could practice sounding human if she had more time. But she would have to live through this first.

He looked up, twisting his neck around to look back towards her. In that instant, Amie’s own fears about her voice fled. That image etched itself into her mind, and would probably remain for years, assuming she lived long enough.

Her brother followed the same basic body plan, a vaguely equine insect with huge eyes and clear wings. But that was where the similarities ended. Instead of stark black, his body was a soft orange in color, and would probably look quite vivid under full sunlight. There were no holes in his wings either, and an almost mineral sparkle when they opened in surprise.

Beside him on the rock were several furry lumps, bigger than they had any right to be. Amie had seen them many times before, though never so close to a person. They were too wary of being harmed, and for good reason. Bats were not large or powerful animals, and anything that happened to their wings would kill them by starvation soon enough.

There were two of them, huge, fluffy creatures appearing about a foot tall to her eyes. But Amie was still adjusting to the scale of her world, and couldn’t trust her own observations. Maybe they were both just smaller.

Wes wasn’t wearing anything, just like her. But he’d brought the book, and it sat on the rock beside the bat. “I tried to wake you up,” he said. “But you weren’t responding. I wanted to get a good look around before you woke up.”

Amie approached slowly, eyeing the animals. They weren’t just bigger than she remembered, but friendlier too. Her wings opened, moving of their own accord with her anxiety. It felt just as last time. “Aren’t you worried those things will bite you?”

She was probably just losing it, but Amie could’ve sworn that one of the bats swiveled their head towards her, baring their teeth for a second. As though it had somehow understood her, enough to be insulted.

“They seem nice,” Wes answered, turning back to the cliff. “You should see this. View up here is great.”

She approached from the other side, putting Wes between herself and the bats. Hopefully weird bugs were immune to rabies. Bugs aren’t mammals. But horses aren’t bugs. “Are you serious? Wes, can you see yourself? You can see me. Doesn’t this bother you? We’re monsters.”

He nodded absently, distracted. “Guess so. I’ve seen spookier. Before you got out, I thought this was some weird dream. But it’s not just us anymore, see?” He lifted one leg, pointing over the edge.

Amie made her way over, staring off in the direction he indicated. She was struck first by the amazing clarity of the view. Even at night, she could easily see the whole camp, and the mountains all around them. One looked the same, the other very different.

Adventure Camp was waking up. Dozens of creatures moved in the darkness, none of them properly bipedal as she remembered. Groups of four rushed out of their tents, moving in nervous packs towards the multipurpose building. If anything, the bright amber lights from down there lit things up too well, making it harder to focus on the mountains all around them.

But she would have to be blindfolded to miss the obvious. Instead of the view down towards Lakeville far below, she saw only the access road, leading a short distance away from camp. It ended abruptly, smacking into a peak that shouldn’t be there.

“Like a god scooped us right up, then dropped us somewhere else,” she whispered. “You’re smart, Wes—you read all those books. What could cause this?”

Wes giggled, then saw her staring and caught himself short. He stood, causing the bats beside him to lift off with agitation, taking off into the night. They didn’t go far—Amie caught their eyes glowing down from nearby trees. Her senses were just too good for anything to hide from her in the dark.

“If there were more books about people turning into bugs, maybe that would make sense. I don’t really know what’s going on. I just know this doesn’t feel like a dream.” He concentrated, and his wings opened, polished greenish shell on his back. Those wings moved up and down for a second, like he was trying to fly. Of course, nothing happened.

“I hoped I was dreaming so this would go away. I don’t think it will.” He touched one leg up against the fence, pushing forward with a little force.

If nothing else had brought their changed scale into perspective, it was this. A fence that should be barely up to his waist was now even with his head, if she ignored the sharply pointed horn and semitransparent fin running down his head.

The fence wobbled slightly, creaking where he pushed. “Loose joint right here. I came up here so many times. Even the little details are perfect. I don’t think this is some Truman-Show copy of camp. Why work so hard to make things right only to get our bodies all wrong?”

Down below, the PA system hissed and crackled again. The sound was a little distorted when it reached them, muted by the distance. But without a thunderstorm Amie could still make out the words clearly. “Campers and staff. You are not alone. Please do not attempt to leave. Come to the multipurpose building, we will help you.”

Amie grunted noncommittally. “They’ll want my help dealing with the crowds. Mr. Albrecht will fire me for sure if I’m not there after something so huge.”

Wes laughed again, louder than last time. “You think your job matters? Look up, Amie. What do you notice about those stars?”

She obeyed. Without knowing how she knew, Amie sat back, settling on her lower body like an animal. That had the added benefit of keeping any weird animal stuff against the ground, where no one could see it. So long as she always faced the people she was talking to, she could pretend that wasn’t an issue.

“They look, uh… easier to see,” she finally said. “Less glow coming off Lakeville. Maybe none. Camp lights are still annoying. Bet we could make do without them.”

His tail whipped back and forth. It was made of a single clear fin, like the one running down his back. It made a cracking sound each time it smacked against the boulder, but Wes didn’t seem to notice. “They’re different constellations. The difference is bigger than just northern or southern hemispheres either. Some similar patterns, but nothing is where I expect.”

“We should talk to Counselor Norman,” she said instantly. “Up at the observatory? If you noticed, he did. Maybe the telescope can tell us more.”

But that was just another reminder that they should head back. Whatever had just happened to Stella Lacus Adventure Camp, it was bigger than a single brother and sister changed into two different bugs.

She backed away from the cliffside, catching his leg with one of hers. It felt softer than she expected, though without hands there was also nothing to hold them together, and she started slipping past. “They’re calling for us at the multipurpose building. Maybe someone there knows what is really going on. Could be a… weapons test, or magic spell, or…”

“Magic?” he repeated, indignant. “You’re reaching, Amie. No matter how absurd this feels, there’s an explanation.” He pulled his leg free, facing her as she backed away. “You go without me. I can barely stand the crowd when they’re all people in there, instead of freaky aliens. I’ll stay up here, to keep an eye on things. If camp explodes, fly up here and we’ll escape together.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really think we’re better off out in the mountains, instead of with other people going through the same thing? It’s still deer season, you know. We get too far from camp, some hunters could think we’re just really sick animals and shoot us.”

He giggled again. “You’re the Pioneering counselor, Amie. If anyone can make it on their own, it’s you. Don’t your skills mean anything?”

She reached up, clasping him on the shoulder with one strange leg. He was still the taller of the two, despite their strange transformations. Maybe it was just that he wasn’t a mirror, but Wes didn’t seem so disgusting to look at. The lack of holes made it seem less like his body was rotting away.

“If anything happens, the combination to my building is 43-19. Get into my room and lock the door.”

He nodded. “So long as being gross bugs doesn’t mean there are gross-bug-eating animals up here, I wouldn’t worry. The other campers shouldn’t be a problem, we can barely even walk right now. I’ve seen them tripping over each other just to make it to the MPB.”

She let go of him a few seconds later, then backed away towards the trail. Only when she was a considerable distance away did she finally turn, scampering back the way she came. Wouldn’t want to face away from him until she already had the trees to hide in.

Chapter 12

“I’m sorry you died here.”

The words felt alien on her tongue, as strange as the horse she was looking at. Four people had died tonight, all because Albrecht wanted to capture and dissect her brother.

She pushed, but the horse was so much heavier than she looked. Amie had to crawl right up next to the corpse, shoving through the mud. Deep red blood splashed up against her body, mixing freely with the chilly water.

Something… happened. Amie wasn’t exactly sure what. It felt more exhausting than working for hours to treat a horse as he bled out on the riverbank.

It didn’t come from the body, so much as herself. A reflex passed through her, making her whole body tense and flex. Light flared around her, so bright that it briefly blinded her. There was no way to resist—by the time it began, it was over.

The mud finally gave way, and with one final shove, the corpse drifted out into the water to flow away like the other two. As she expected, the weight of all that metal brought it down, quickly vanishing under the surface.

Perhaps not a dignified burial, far less than the dignity deserved by someone who died for their country. But Amie couldn’t offer her anything else. She paused in the river, bending down to wash the blood and slime from her body. Not just from the slain flying-horse, but the surviving one as well. She’d been working for hours, after all.

The water felt different, somehow. It didn’t bite as much as she was used to, and she couldn’t feel it passing eerily through her legs. Was something wrong with her? Her wings were the strangest of all—instead of passing through smoothly, the water dragged on her feathers, pulling her deeper.

She stepped out, shaking herself free, and looking down at her reflection. But even her eyes were struggling. Where before the moonlight was enough to see anything she wished, now the world was shrouded in deep shadows.

She could only see an outline and what she saw made her scream. She flared both wings, backing away from the water. But she could still see the feathers to either side. Even her voice sounded different.

She looked to either side, and found a pair of feathery wings beside her—familiar wings. Wings she’d seen on a dead pony. The one she’d just pushed into the water.

I did something. That magic—was it the blood? But if that were the case, why hadn’t it happened while she treated the male? She had more of his blood smeared all over herself.

Amie crept slowly back to the water’s edge, staring back at her reflection. If she got quite close, even her eyes could focus on her reflection, distorted by the water.

She saw a stranger’s face—only without the terrible damage a shotgun had caused. She was what that female would’ve looked like, if that hunter hadn’t blasted her.

Do they have to be dead? There was no direct comparison for whatever she’d become. Maybe she was a sort of vampire, somehow feeding on the appearance of those who died? Until today, no one in Stella Lacus had died. Even if they had that power, they never would’ve experienced it.

He’s probably freezing.

She could worry about the implications later. For now, she would focus on her goals. Amie turned back, taking the stolen satchel with her.

She didn’t start her fire on that riverbank, where its light would shine back to camp for miles. She found an obscuring bluff a short distance away, gathered anything dry, and set to work with the stolen flint.

It would’ve taken her minutes, if her strange new power had still been usable. But Amie’s ability to make things fly stopped working. She had to gather it all up in her mouth, or balance it on her back. Good thing she’d already been doing that for a month, or she might’ve struggled to get it done.

Soon enough she had a small fire going in a circle of prepared stones. She gathered her own saddlebags, then went back for her survivor.

His eyes were open. But she didn’t have to fear his death—she could still feel him there, albeit so weak he was barely still alive. “I have a fire,” she said. “Let’s get you over there. Then we’ll try to replenish your fluids, okay?”

“Gale,” he repeated, watching her. “But not. I watched you… die. You aren’t Gale. It wasn’t a dream.”

She stopped, just out of reach. This alien was still in no condition to be a serious threat to her. But that didn’t mean being reckless. “It wasn’t. My name isn’t Gale, it’s Amie. What’s yours?”

“Amie,” he repeated. He said it several more times, slightly different each time. She didn’t correct him. “That is a Changeling name? Amie? I thought… angrier. Teeth-biter. Flesh-destroyer. Love-stealer. Like that.”

She giggled. She suppressed it quickly—he clearly didn’t share the joke. “No. Amie Blythe. My brother is Wesley Blythe. We’re not what you think. Changelings… I don’t know what that is. I’m… it’s a long story. I’ll tell you if you live through the night.”

She approached him slowly, ready to spring out of reach if she felt aggression. But there was nothing. Saving his life had earned her at least a little trust. She braced against his shoulder as before, then pointed.

“Don’t put any weight on the leg closest to me. Those stitches might give, and if that happens you’re dead. Lean all of it on me, okay?”

He nodded, and they made their slow way over to the fire. It was a good thing she’d built it—he felt much colder than the last time.

He collapsed as soon as they were near, dragging himself along until he was right beside it. Amie pushed him a short distance further, so he wouldn’t burn. “There. No closer, no matter how tempting. Also… here.”

She removed a bottle from her satchel, then unscrewed the cap in her mouth. “Mixed this before we left.”

He squinted at it, eyes narrowing. “Blue. Hive poison? That’s why you… saved me? So you could make me one of you?”

She rolled her eyes, bringing it right up against his mouth. “No, it’s Powerade. You lost a lot of blood—you need water, electrolytes, iron. At last I think so—your blood was actually red. Not hemolymph like mine. Same principle, anyway, just drink it.”

He turned up his nose at first, but she kept pressing, until finally he took a sip. After a few seconds, he downed the rest of it without a fight.

“So sweet. At least if you… corrupt me… it won’t taste like poison.”

“Well that’s because it’s mostly sugar, unfortunately.” She glanced over her shoulder, towards the camp. “If you hadn’t just killed two of us”—and for Wes—“I’d take you back to our doctor. We have a little clinic, almost a hospital really. You’d be fine. But they might figure out what you did. Wouldn’t go well.”

She removed a second canteen, unscrewing the cap. It was the last of her water, technically—but there was little reason to expect she couldn’t get more. He took it, and drank that too.

“Should’ve… stayed on your mountain,” he finally said. “No one had to fight. You tried to escape… into Equestria. Only our patrol was here, but… someone had to stop you.”

She spread her saddlebags onto the ground, and perched awkwardly there. It still wasn’t comfortable, but she didn’t need luxury. She just needed to catch her breath after fighting so hard all night.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “We don’t belong on this planet let alone this mountain. I’m not supposed to look like a hideous freakish monster. This Transit transformed a bunch of ordinary people into—whatever we are. It sucks, and we’d all like to go home.”

She rested her head up against her knees. It was softer than she remembered—there was fur on her legs now, instead of just shiny black chitin. This was better. The mix of baby blue colors was easier to look at, too. Gale actually looked cute, even if she was a horse.

He watched her from across the fire, sitting still. Mostly he felt pain, though there was an underlying layer of suspicion that didn’t dim with time. “Everypony—knows how much you lie. That’s all you know how to do. You lie, so you can feed. I didn’t forget. You’re lying right now. Gale is dead, and you’re… wearing her face.”

“I wouldn’t if I knew how to stop,” she snapped back. “The face part. I haven’t lied to you once. I could’ve left you to die, and gone after my brother. He’s probably up to that city by now, on the nearby peak. I hope they’re kinder to him than you are.”

He closed his eyes, settling into a resting position beside the fire. “Then why… did you save me? How does a changeling even know how? All you do is take, destroy, corrupt.”

She flicked her tail back towards the camp. A dozen detailed stories flicked through her mind—all the ways she could explain why. But all of them would ultimately be incomplete.

“Because it was… right,” she eventually said. “You saved me—the ones you killed, they wanted to do terrible things to me. I’d be dead when they were finished…” she trailed off, recoiling in disgust. They were things she didn’t even want to know, but unfortunately her senses did not make that possible. She knew exactly how terrible those men wanted to be.

“You saved my life. If I get my way, I’ll save yours. Then we’ll see.”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. The horse was quietly snoring.

Amie did not sleep that night, like she didn’t sleep basically ever. As soon as she was sure her companion wouldn’t die, she refilled her water, then washed the riverbed clean. There would be no trail left behind for any future explorers to follow.

She kept the shotgun close beside her until sunrise, in case Stella Lacus decided to send a second group. They didn’t. She imagined distant voices shouting more than once, but none got close.

By the light of the sun, she finally got a clearer picture of her own appearance. Strange that stealing the body of another would make her look so much more human. These horses were mammals, and in every respect looked basically like other animals. Fur, gums, more familiar reproductive bits. The feathers were different, but blended naturally with her back, gradually changing back to fur as they met with well-developed back muscles.

And we already know they can fly. They came down from the sky wearing metal armor. Maybe the idea of a “changeling” flying wasn’t so far-fetched either.

She wasn’t sure what time it was when her companion finally woke. Not noon yet, but the sun was well on its way. “Thirsty,” he croaked. “And—maybe food too? Anything?”

She gave him her canteen again, then started pumping the little mechanical filter to refill it a second time. “You still haven’t told me your name, sky-horse.”

She held up a sealed pack of granola-bars—for her brother, but Wes would forgive her. “I’m Amie. You are—”

“Tailslide,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t bother trying to interrogate me. I don’t—know anything valuable.”

She tore open one of the bars, offering it to him. He sniffed it skeptically, then swallowed the whole thing in a pair of quick bites. “Strawberry? Changelings can eat that?”

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not going to interrogate you, Tailslide. I thought about leaving you here, but… I don’t like the look of that leg. I’m not going to leave you out here to get infected and die. That means I have to take you up to that city.”

“Motherlode,” he said. For the first time, he spoke without suspicion. Mostly he felt exhausted, but there was something more. The tiniest trickle of gratitude. She was wearing him down.

She fed him the rest of the pack, one bar at a time, then another full canteen. She refilled it for herself, then packed all the trash and the dead soldier’s gear away in her saddlebags.

“If you take me,” he began. “I could tell them what you are. They’d drive you out of town. Or maybe there are guards there already, and they’ll—attack you.”

She shrugged. “Let me… there, under your leg.”

“What about my armor?”

She shook her head. “Look at me. You think I can carry you and thirty pounds of steel? It’s buried in a hole under that big tree there, with the whitethorn around the base? Now soldier, march.”

Chapter 25

“You in here, Amie?” Bud asked, rattling on her door. Amie sat up from her academic stupor, dislodging several textbooks onto the floor around her.

She managed to get her hooves under her by the time Bud let himself in. Transforming was more than just changing how she looked on the outside—every body had its own characteristics, different ways of moving, holding herself.

This one couldn’t sit still now that she was in motion, bouncing subtly up and down. She levitated her pile of books hastily up onto the table as Bud came in, looking as though he hadn’t slept much more than she did. He had an entire pot of coffee levitating along beside him, and occasionally drank directly from it. Wasn’t that too hot for his tongue? If so, he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, excellent. Already into character. What do I call you?”

“Rain Fly!” she exclaimed, hurrying over. She passed him the form, then eyed the pot of coffee. If he hadn’t drunk directly from it, she might try to steal it. Would she even be able to drink it? She already knew what happened when she tried to eat plants. “I had a look at your suggestions. I think this should be a good match.”

The unicorn looked her over, then nodded. “This will be the strangest change to my profession since letting the hippogriff join my staff last year. No need for makeup or outfits, no dye and wigs.” He patted her shoulder with the form, then waved for her to follow. “It may be a good thing the changelings who invaded Equestria were such bloodthirsty monsters. Too many like you would put entertainers out of a job.” He stopped in the doorway, waiting for her. “But if this works out, I’d be willing to offer employment to your brother as well. If he can match his energy to ours, we could use another healing worker.”

Do you make up those words every time, or actually believe them?

Amie followed him from the room, then across the narrow wooden bridge. It was barely large enough for two ponies to walk abreast, and had only a single window directly in the center. An uncomfortable space for a pony, enough that even Bud accelerated his hoofsteps while they were inside.

“He’d be more likely to be one of your clients, I’m afraid,” she answered. “He has a hard time making friends. But Mr. Bonzer. Should I… I should be in character, right? Rain Fly doesn’t have a brother.”

He stopped beside the window. In the city below, life was going in earnest now. Thousands of ponies worked. From the carts they pulled and the heavy protective gear they wore, she could only guess they were in the mining industry. Just like Motherlode, and all the other villages around here.

“That’s exactly right, Rain. Each identity you take is another employee. I need to treat each one of them as their own ponies. Or… own creatures. You can copy more than ponies, can’t you? Ever since hiring Stratosphere, we keep getting requests for ponies who want to meet exotic creatures from far away.”

Did Bud want her to be herself, or Rain Fly? She sighed. “I’ve only met ponies since getting here. I think if I meet someone, I might be able to look like them? Ponies are weird and alien to me too. Other things shouldn’t be much harder.”

“Might need to bring Stratosphere in on this if we go for it,” he muttered to himself, then set off again. “But I’m getting ahead of myself, Rain. First thing you have to do is show me you have a future at Rent-a-Friend. You look right, you definitely have the right energy. But will Ivy Path agree? That’s the judge of your future.”

“She will,” Amie promised. “I used to be just like her. Now that I’m a few years older, I’ve been working with kids for years. I know how they think.”

The Rent-a-Friend building was a maze. Bud led her across several hallways, past a stage, another section of apartments just like the one she now lived in, a swimming pool. It was no wonder the building was so big—it probably had a place for almost anything friends might want to do together.

She thought about where Ivy Path might be waiting for her—an obstacle course, or maybe an archery range? But Bud didn’t take her to anywhere like that—instead, they reached a final set of stairs, and emerged in an alley behind the building. Old dumpsters filled the air with exactly the foul smells she expected, and dense shadows kept the awning in perpetual gloom even with the sun high overhead.

“Part of this case, her father doesn’t want her knowing he hired the friend. She won’t meet you here, in fact learning about us will ruin the whole contract. You need to grow naturally into her life, then satisfy her father that her daughter’s needs are being met. Nurture her, fill the gaps. Heal the pony’s aching heart. All the rest.”

Amie winced. “What am I supposed to tell her about where I live? What’s my cover story?”

Bud just kept staring at her, as though she’d asked in another language. “The cover story is your job, Amie. You’re there to act, so act. How to enter her life, we do know a little more. I already spoke to her father, Commander Bravo Path. He said that Ivy spends most of her days on the training course in the base.”

He fished around in his pocket, finally removing a little necklace with a sun logo hanging from it. “This here—families of guards wear these around bases, it will get you in. I can see you didn’t bring anything, that’s good. No weapons through the gates, if you don’t want them to search you. Remember Ivy’s picture from the form?”

It was her turn to stare. “Just making sure I get this right… you’re sending me to a military base? The same military who think everyone who looks like me is a monster that wants to suck the love out of every pony in Equestria? Does that seem like a good idea?”

He lowered his voice, resting one hoof on her shoulder. “Frankly Miss Amie, this is your evaluation. If nopony at the base can find you, then how could a humble pony such as myself have discovered your infiltration? This first assignment protects me, and every other pony who depends on the Rent-a-Friend for their bits and their companionship. I’m not telling you to get caught, I’m saying not to. Give the best debut performance of your life.”

I shouldn’t. The danger here was more than just disappointing one lonely pony with a bad friend—it was her life. Any attempt to claim innocence would be doomed to failure when they caught her sneaking into a military base. But if she lost this job, what would happen to Wes? How much longer could they keep running?

“Do they have any magic to detect me?” she finally asked, resigned.

“If Equestria had that, changelings wouldn’t be so scary,” he said. “Just act like a pony, and you should be fine. If you can’t do that, you could reconsider your employment. That’s your decision.”

“No.” She pulled free of him, then hopped down into the alley. “How much time is he paying for, exactly? How long should I try to entertain her?”

“That’s… not how we work,” Bud said. “He’s paying for a friend. You stay however long that takes. For a client who doesn’t know they’re a client, that might take weeks of short visits, getting longer as your relationship improves. Satisfy her father, prove the Rent-a-Friend service has a place in Equestria. You’ll be doing more than earning the bits, if you do.”

And if I fail, I’ll be dead. You can deny responsibility, kick my brother to the curb, and pretend this never happened.

Amie bit back a dozen different snide remarks about the “energy” he was projecting with his first job, and set off down the road. Bitter and angry wasn’t what she needed right now, but it also wasn’t what Rain Fly was like.

If I’m gonna live through this, Rain Fly can’t just be a face. She has to be a real pony underneath.

Amie’s trip across Agate was nothing near as casual as the first one. She was no less a stranger to the city, but this time she wasn’t wondering where to hide Wes, or afraid about what they would eat. This time, she had a purpose.

It shouldn’t even be that hard, if she boiled it down to the abstract. Make friends with a lonely horse. Mr. Albrecht basically paid her to do that all summer long already.

Agate was large enough that nopony noticed the appearance of a total stranger from nothing. Meanwhile, Rain Fly was old enough that it wasn’t too strange for her to be on her own. Her living arrangements would be a bit strange, but other than that…

Amie could only wonder if the other workers had such hard assignments. It couldn’t just be as easy as entertaining visitors, oh no. She had to sneak in, making friends on her own, and never let the girl catch on that she was only doing a job. At least the kids who came to Stella Lacus knew the counselors were there to make them feel welcome.

Then she reached the base itself. If anything, what surprised her about it was just how familiar the place was. High fences separated it from the rest of town, along with a single guard post attached to the road for visitors. But since the town didn’t have cars, those visitors all came on their own hooves.

Aside from the guards at the gates, she couldn’t even see any patrolling from the wall. She saw a few shapes high above, probably pegasi. Maybe that was the only way they watched the building for danger. Why bother walking on walls when you had wings?

Bud’s words about the base proved correct in at least one respect. There were no magical metal detectors outside to show whether or not she was a changeling. There was no interrogation for her, no cavity search. She just turned the necklace towards them, and a bored-looking earth pony with a pen waved her through the gate to the other side.

“Name,” she said, her voice as utterly bored as her emotions radiated. Amie would’ve smelled their suspicion, with how sour and unmistakable it tasted in the air. She found none.

“Rain Fly,” she answered.

“Reason for your visit?”

Amie hesitated. “Heard you’ve got a great training course. Wanted to do some PT.”

That made the mare look up, tapping her pen impatiently against the clipboard. “Just what the base needs. Another one.” She scribbled it down anyway, then gestured. “Beige building across from the hangar. Don’t get lost, miss. You’re a visitor on Royal Guard property.”

She nodded hastily. “Beige building across from the hangar, got it.”

Just like that, the forces of the changeling military infiltrated a secure pony facility. No one followed her through the gate. The ponies there barely even glanced in her direction.

As it turned out, there were plenty of ponies her age inside. Most of them wore simple tee-shirts with guard logos and numbers on the back. They went through various drills, circling around a running course, or practiced with shields and spears, going through basic routines.

She couldn’t keep herself from staring at some of the bigger objects in the base—such as the gigantic mooring-pole, with an airship tethered to it. The exact same airship she’d seen flying over Motherlode not long ago.

Tailslide is in here. I wonder if he could help me.

Amie banished that thought far, far to the back of her mind. The beige gym was one of the larger buildings, and placed fairly near the front. She couldn’t get curious and wander around to see the rest of it without attracting obvious attention to herself.

I just need to keep us safe long enough for Pachu'a to get back here to help Stella Lacus, she thought, slowing as she reached the doors. A pair of ponies stood there as “guards”, though these weren’t wearing armor. They carried blunted practice spears instead of real ones. When they snapped to attention at her approach, it was with only passable technique.

They took one look at her badge, then one scurried over to the door, holding it open for her. There was no way to second guess herself now. Amie’s only path was forward.

Chapter 49

Amie dreaded the return to the Elders' chamber.

Not because she didn't want to see Wes again—rather, a persistent level of dread remained in the back of her mind, whispering of all the terrible things that must have happened to him while she was gone and unable to help. If any harm came to him, she would have to live with the guilt.

She owed Wes her protection more than any other bug in her care. But her new powers didn't care how much she wanted to protect him, she still couldn't feel his thoughts, or see through his eyes. The only way to know if he was still alive was to see for herself.

There was no gruesome display waiting for them in the Elders' chambers. Instead, she found her brother sitting in the corner of the room, alone on a wide expanse of sand.

The elders surrounded him, heads bowed and eyes closed. Strange incense burned, filling the air with smoke that made Amie instantly light-headed.

Kaya slowed her pace, blocking Amie's advance with her wing as they closed in on the unusual scene. "They are looking into his future," she whispered, her voice quiet and respectful. "A great honor for one who is not of our tribe. We must watch from afar, or we will interfere in the magic."

Amie stopped where indicated, settling back onto her haunches. Reading the future sounded like a load of crap—but so was transforming, or borrowing the body of another bug far away. Stranger things were possible. She tried to meet Wes's eyes, but he didn't seem to notice her. If he had decided to go along with the ritual, then she would watch from the sidelines and not interfere.

A low murmur passed through the circle of elderly bugs. Their voices joined together, a perfectly synchronized chorus. Similar magic to the way she had controlled the bugs in her swarm?

She couldn't understand a word of what they said. Even so they repeated themselves, a few lines whispered over and over in sequence.

Wes opened one eye, looking out at the circle in confusion. Then he saw Amie there, lifted up one hoof to wave—and put it back down just as quickly.

The ritual ended a few seconds later. The elders all stood, their concentration broken. Someone turned in his direction. Maybe they had been listening. Then a bow moved through the crowd. Not for Amie, obviously. But a real queen was beside her.

"That was... interesting," Wes said, without a bow. "I didn't... understand anything that just happened. Can someone translate for me?"

He stood, then walked away from the patch of smooth sand. His steps were slow and deliberate, as though afraid he was going to knock over an invisible sandcastle. But nothing happened, there was no sign of interference.

The circle of elders parted for him, nodding politely as they did so. Yet none of them spoke to him further. It was ultimately Kaya who answered his question, and Amie's unspoken desire for more information at the same time.

"It was a prophecy," Kaya said. “Even I cannot interpret those perfectly. But I can translate our old language. They said... that futures diverge with you, for bugs all over the planet. Being a bug that important is dangerous, I think..."

She turned away from the elders. "I'm not certain if they meant what they said. They suggest that there is another struggling to be like you. Go deep into the cold, north to the Empire, and search."

Amie's expression darkened. "They want us to go somewhere else? Now?"

The blind bugs filed away from them, one after another. One among their number stopped in front of Amie, meeting her eyes. There was no anger there at her skepticism. She didn't even look directly at her, just close enough.

"We do not order or compel, we can only observe. We see that your brother will never learn the secret of his transformation on his own. He must go north. What you do with that knowledge is up to you."

She left, joining the other blind bugs as they walked slowly from the room.

Only the queen remained, and her spy. The spy with a book of priceless knowledge. "I welcome you to return in the future," she said. "For my sake and yours nymph, do not come in person. You are a greater potential rival than any other queen on this planet. I trust you—but queens ought to meet little. Send drones only, or we will see your arrival as an advancing army of war."

Amie nodded weakly. One moment she could forget she wasn't talking to another human being—then the changeling queen said something like that, and made herself seem exceptionally dangerous and strange.

The orange bugs had come from Earth long ago, but none living had ever been human. She needed to remember that.

"I understand. I'll send another bug in my place next time. It seems like I shouldn’t leave the nest much. I know you're right, but I'm not happy about it. Doing things on my own has always been what makes life worth living."

Kaya settled one hoof onto her shoulder again, almost motherly. "I am sorry, nymph. Be consoled that you may experience your domain through the many bugs who love you. When you have eggs of your own, seeing them grow will more than make up for any missing personal adventures. Until then—I have another aid expedition ready to depart with you. I know this strange new species of bug requires time to sleep, so I've prepared quarters as well. You can rest there, and leave with the expedition when sunrise comes."

Amie turned towards the queen, and bowed low. Maybe queens weren't supposed to use gestures like that for each other, but how could she not?

"Thank you, Kaya. I don't know how long my tribe will remain on Equus. But if we're stranded here, we won't ever forget this kindness. If we can survive the wrath of Equestria and the cold of winter, we'll find a way to repay."

Kaya chuckled, then nudged Amie back into a standing position. "If you survive long enough, your versatility may spell the end of hunger for changelings of all tribes. We cannot harvest the same emotions as you, but all glamour is equal. Focus on your survival for now, nymph. And don't lower your neck to other queens again."

She left them there, abandoned in the secrecy of the Elders' chamber. Except that Natane was still watching from a few feet away. Until that moment she had kept silent, but now she spoke. "I... beg the tolerance of Queen Amie. I can show you to your quarters, where the strange male can rest."

The strange male—that was one word for it. Strangely, she found it almost endearing. "Lead the way."

She did. Only when they were leaving the darkened corner of Sonoma could she finally get a private word with her brother. Private, except for the spy leading them. There would be no secrets so long as she was around. Amie would pay a high price for knowledge.

"They didn't cut you open," she began, after a brief hug. She wouldn't dare show affection like that with the queen or any Elders present. He might be immune to the need to feed on emotions, but that was not an advantage in a changeling city. It only meant he was the food. "What did they do?"

"Magic, mostly. Some of it hurt a little, but it didn't last long. They wanted to see me change, and see how much like a pony I was. Talked about how I have to sleep and eat and that kinda stuff. Then they wanted to see what my future looked like, and I said they could. That was pretty much it."

Their guide took them back up through the streets of Sonoma. The sun had gone from the sky when they finally emerged in the shadow of the mountain. Aside from the light, there was no obvious sign that anything had changed. The city's bugs continued their hard work, doing whatever it was that bugs did when they weren't out hunting.

"I'm glad," she said. "I trust Pachu'a, but it's still... good to see he was right. Thank you for coming with—thanks to you being brave, a lot of campers won't starve."

Wes nodded, ears flattening in embarrassment. "You say that like I should have any credit for it. I was just... doing the right thing. I was lucky enough to have a sister to get me out of that place. They weren't."

You won't like that we have to go back. If only her powers had worked on him—then they could speak without fear of being overheard. Whether she trusted the orange tribe or not, instinct told her that it would be unwise to show too much vulnerability. Her kids needed allies, and to do that they would have to feel like they had something to offer for the risk.

Natane brought them to their quarters a little while later. It was bigger than she expected, a huge stone apartment about the same size as the one the queen used for her meditation. There was only a single bed, but plenty of workspace, several desks, and a long row of padded cushions against the wall. All that furniture seemed to have a purpose, but Amie couldn’t guess what most of it would be.

"I hope this is to your satisfaction," Natane said, stepping inside. "It is the same used by visiting diplomats of the other tribes. You have been given the same honors."

Amie nodded gratefully. "It's wonderful. I would ask... do you have candles, anywhere? Any flame would work. What about you, Wes?"

He groaned, resting one hoof against his stomach. "Food? Like... the real stuff, not fairy dust and magic. Or—pony food. I haven't had anything since lunch, and it's sooo late already."

Natane suppressed a giggle with one hoof. "Of course. Pony... food. There is always a limited supply in storage, I will have it brought. We would not want the queen's freak drone to be injured."

"Freak drone?" He stuck out his tongue, defiant. "That's not very nice. Why is this bug with us, Amie?"

"She's coming back to Agate with me," Amie answered. "Natane, this is my brother, Wes. Wes, this is Natane. Please be nice to each other."

Wes eyed her, obviously unhappy with the arrangement. "Are you sure she's coming with us?"

"Positive." She turned back towards the bug. "If you could bring those things, that will be great. Then you're free to go until tomorrow. I won't be studying your knowledge tonight, there is... something more pressing for me to do."

Natane bowed shallowly to her, then retreated through the open doorway. At least her guest-quarters actually had a door and a latch-bolt, unlike most of the city. Other than for her, the rest of these bugs seemed to just trust each other. But Kaya had taught her well. Amie was not going to trust them too much.

"Freak," Wes repeated, as soon as she was gone. "Not a very nice girl, is she? It's like we're back in camp all over again."

Amie wrapped her foreleg around his shoulder, and held him close. "I won't let her talk to you like that. You heard what the Elders said—you're something incredible and new. You'll change the whole world."

Wes whimpered, and started to cry. He wiped a few tears from his face, brushing up against Amie's shell. "I don't... want to change anything, Amie. I just wanna go home."

She held him close, offering what reassurance she could. There was little to find in that lonely stone building, hidden under another's city.

Eventually he let go—right as Natane's hoofsteps returned, and the drone reappeared. She brought an already-burning lantern, along with a basket of hard, dried bread, and some steaming vegetables. "My queen reminded me that you were carrying your first clutch, and would require this as well. The bakery will have several fresh loaves ready for our departure. I'm sorry this is all we have to hoof right now."

It was Amie's turn to blush. "I am... thankful for the queen's generosity. Please return when it is time for us to leave. My brother and I would like our privacy until then."

Natane looked like she wanted to argue—but then she bowed again, and turned back the way she'd come. Amie shut the door behind her, and slid the latch across. Only then could she finally breathe her first sigh of relief.

It lasted about five seconds, until Wes's laughter filled the room. "Clutch? She can't be serious! Eggs need to be fertilized,don't they? Like that could happen while my sister was a horse."

Chapter 76

Rick looked away from her, hiding his fear. That might have helped him if she was a pony, or something remotely similar. Unfortunately for the bug, Amie could still see his emotions. She could see his thoughts too, if she pushed hard enough. She didn't though—probing into someone's mind without their permission felt like a violation. Her loyal bugs deserved better.

"Where is Wes?" she repeated. "It's not like him to run off for no reason. Did he go out for groceries?"

"No." Rick hurried across the room, over to the only bed. Amie recognized that smell instantly—her brother. That made sense, considering the other two were bugs who didn't sleep. He lifted something in his magic, holding it out for Amie to inspect. A newspaper. "Not sure what set him off. He was reading this one minute—then he took most of the money and ran. We would've had to fight him to keep him from leaving!"

Amie took the newspaper, opening up each page and flipping through it. "When did this happen?"

"This morning. Beth and I were expecting you to call days ago. We thought something must be wrong, but... we weren't sure what to do. The intranet would never work this far away. There are some radios that might, but only Albrecht has those."

He doesn't even know about camp. But Amie didn't tell him, because she saw what Wes must've. On the second page, a large headline next to the photo of a frightened pony. "Fears of Changeling Infiltration Rock the Crystal Palace" Amie skimmed the article in silence, but found nothing more suggestive. The “crystal empire” had just enjoyed a monumental and somewhat frightening birth, leading to a new heir.

The article was vague on details, only hinted at inconsistencies in the court records. Little things went missing, names that couldn't be found in the city kept showing up on sign-in sheets. None of the murders Sweetie Drops suggested would follow a true changeling infiltration.

The article's writer was clear in their suspicions, though. They blamed “lax” security in the Changeling Isolation Zone for potential escapes, arguing for a more definitive "solution" to the changeling problem.

"He went... here," Amie said, gesturing at the map. "Somewhere called the Crystal Empire. Why does the article write like they're part of Equestria?"

Rick shrugged. "That sounds familiar. Wes wanted to go there. I... assume we're going to follow him? Beth and I, I mean."

"Yes. You can catch the evening express. I'll meet Ivy tonight, and Beth can catch the morning train tomorrow."

"No," Rick said, without hesitation. "No chance. Amie—I know you're the... queen... but this is dangerous territory. We already split up once. If Beth and I get separated, I might never see her again. I won't do that."

She should've expected more resistance. It was the only reason Rick was here at all. She needed his skills working with the mine's intranet, or hunting glamour. Instead, he chased a diplomatic mission. "Alright. But you can't go with me to Ivy. She's only expecting me. If I bring someone else, it might set off their security. Her father is the general keeping Stella Lacus trapped, remember."

He nodded. "I could still... be in the same general area. There are gardens on rooftops and stuff, I could just hang out in one of those. Be close in case Beth needs me." He moved closer, touching one hoof against her chest. "Can she... hear me? Are you two people right now, or..."

"Sorta," Amie said. "I think if I was better at this, I could make suggestions to her, instead of taking over. But I haven't practiced that much. The bugs I usually do this to don't have... minds... anymore. It's new to me too."

Rick pushed harder. "I know I don't have to tell you, counselor. But I will anyway. Don't take Beth into danger. That isn't right. She's not just a glove for you to wear, even if she lets you do it."

Amie pushed his hoof away with magic, firm. "I know, Rick. I'm not. Ivy is my friend. If I smell trouble, I'll run. But her letter—she thinks she has a way to get us home! I may not understand my powers that much, but I can feel that Beth agrees with me. That's why she insisted you two wait here, instead of following Wes. She knows that getting everyone home is more important than chasing one bug. Even if that bug is my brother."

That worked. Rick's anger eased, and he nodded. "I'm glad she's still in there. Beth—if you're not comfortable with this, kick her out. I know you're strong enough."

"I called her, idiot!" The words didn't come from Amie—but they came anyway, from her mouth. From Beth's mouth that she borrowed. "If I thought I could do this without her, I would've gone to meet her friend already. The queen knows what she's doing."

It took Amie another few seconds to reestablish... control? That wasn't quite right. First there were two of them, then just one again. This is how Kaya can look through the eyes of many bugs at once. She only uses a tiny bit of her concentration, splitting it between them all. Even considering that made Amie's head hurt, and she dismissed the possibility instantly. With luck, they would be back on Earth before that mattered.

An hour later, and they were in the right place—uptown Canterlot where magical light shone in every window, and the ponies walked with a delicate poise that Amie could never hope to imitate. But that didn't matter—she wasn't supposed to be a posh, well-bred mare from a place like this. Rain Fly never would've made friends with Ivy that way.

"Don't come in unless it sounds like an emergency," Amie said. "I'll reach for you, you'll know. Otherwise, just keep your head down. If I stay the night, you can come back in the morning. Not sure what she'll offer."

Rick nodded. Thanks to her powers, she didn't have to wonder if he would obey. Rick knew that she thought it was safe, and in turn radiated his willingness to obey her instructions. She couldn't expect more. "Be careful, both of you."

Amie continued along the street, separating from him at the stop sign, then turning up the lane. She compared the numbers with her memorized address, and finally selected one home among many.

She didn't need the numbers to find this place. The Path estate looked a little like a military fortification itself. Instead of fine statues and beautiful gardens, there was only a single straight path, under the watchful eyes of a dozen different windows. She saw at least one armored pony watching from above, though their armor wasn't the gold she was used to.

No traps sprung on her at least, though she did feel a general pressure of suspicion on her. Those were some paranoid house-guards for a residential property.

No soldiers rushed out to arrest her. She reached the oversized metal doors and knocked.

Hoof steps echoed off a stone floor, galloping in from parts unknown. Finally, the door opened, and a figure appeared there. The unicorn was old, more bone than flesh, with a horn as sharp as her expression. "I venture that you are Rain Fly, is that correct?"

The pony felt almost nothing, emotions so feeble that Amie barely even tasted them. Rather—there was only one feeling, so dominant it swallowed all others. Never before had she met a creature that knew such powerful disdain.

Amie stood up straight, meeting her eyes. Her body was too young and short to be anywhere close to this mare's height, though. "That's me. I'm here to see Ivy Path. I think she's expecting me."

"Yes." The mare spoke with considerable disbelief, clearly not willing to accept that anyone in her house would want to meet a creature like Amie. "Follow me." It was not a request.

Amie obeyed anyway, trailing after the stern mare.

Inside, the Path residence was much of what she expected—suits of armor, ancient uniforms, and military-themed portraits and murals filled the space. Whoever arranged it all cared more about getting it all out on display than using any kind of unifying theme, let alone common sense. They sometimes had to weave a circuitous path, because a statue took up the center of the next hallway.

They descended several flights of steps, until stone walls overtook narrow windows. Finally, they emerged in a library of sorts, packed with shelves and dusty tables. Her escort turned something on the wall, filling the room with a faint magical glow from overhead. It would've been more than enough for a changeling, though it wasn't much for a unicorn. "I believe she had a number of materials picked out for you to read on that table there. Make yourself... comfortable. I'll inquire if she is willing to entertain you at this late hour."

The mare didn't wait for Amie's acknowledgement, just turned right back out the way she'd come, shutting the door behind her. If Albrecht wasn't already married, I'd tell him I found the perfect woman for him.

Amie banished her anger, then lit her horn so she wouldn't trip on anything. The room had several desks, all empty except for one. That one had a mismatched assortment of books piled on it, from heavy textbooks to slim memoirs, all marked with a laminated library stamp.

The titles weren’t exactly fascinating, many named after esoteric magical concepts that she couldn’t even begin to understand. She picked the first one, then flipped through it at random. She found a bookmark about halfway through, on a page that happened to have an illustration.

It looked a little like a mirror, with a strange metal rim in the shape of a horseshoe. That was exactly the kind of vain, silly thing she expected from Equestria’s ponies—she could believe they would make something like that.

Thankfully, the text beside it was more interesting. It described its creator’s intentions to explore worlds beyond Equestria, and the realm of “two-legged monsters” he had found on the other side. “I do not believe meaningful exploration of this domain can serve any useful purpose. No magic extends to that realm, making all aspects of communication difficult. In the absence of magic, how could any beings understand kinship, compassion, or kindness?

What few encounters I had with the itinerant monsters of this domain reinforces this fear. With regret, I terminate my research. Perhaps it might serve as the means of permanent banishment for capital criminals. Even so, I believe death would be a kinder sentence.”

Clover’s writings were grim, but more importantly, they didn’t include anything about how they had built this portal. With so little concrete information about the other side, there was no telling if it was really Earth, or some other planet sharing the same basic body-plan. Considering how much Equestria had in common with her home, it felt entirely plausible.

This is good, Ivy. You’re on the right track.

The next volume was a set of old judicial records, chronicling those who had received the harshest sentences in Equestrian history. Including a number that were turned to stone, several particularly troublesome creatures were listed as “Banished through the Mirror to Thaumic Deadlands Beyond.”

The account gave very little more, though a few of them did resemble some aspects of familiar folklore. But that wasn’t new to Amie—the Pegasus came from myth too, as did unicorns. She already knew there was some connection here.

She was about to start on the third of the stacked volumes when hoof steps sounded from down the hall. Amie looked up, in time to see a beleaguered Ivy make her way inside.

Life in Canterlot clearly did not suit her. Her mane was messy, and her eyes were red and puffy. She felt worse than either, weighed down with guilt and fear and anxiety. Doing all this for me—I asked too much. Ivy’s a kid too.

Unlike the bugs, she wasn’t a kid who needed to work hard or get crushed by Equestrian violence. “Ivy! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here… you wouldn’t believe everything that happened since you left.”

The mare nodded weakly. “You’re right. I don’t think I would.”