The Illusions' Case: The Stolen Salamander

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Trixie gave a glance at Principal Celestia’s face, only for her eyes to slide up to her forehead.

“Again, Trixie doesn’t know where the stupid salamander is,” she said, crossing her arms to affirm her statement.

“But it was during your disappearing act that our mascot got lost,” Celestia responded. “The students searched through every inch of the gym without any trace of him.”

“So what? He’s not in the magical box Trixie put him in, nor where he should’ve appeared, nor in any of her other magic items.”

“He couldn’t have disappeared into thin air though.”

“Of course not,” Trixie replied with a groan, turning her gaze to a frame on the desk showing a portrait of Luna. “He couldn’t have gotten away by himself, so someone stole him during my act.”

She heard Celestia click her tongue, causing Trixie to examine her facial expression. The principal’s raised eyebrow screamed of doubt.

“And who, in your opinion, would’ve stolen Blizzard?”

“How should Trixie know?” Trixie made sure to visibly roll her eyes. “What she doesn’t get is why she is being interrogated.”

“Trixie,” Celestia said, putting her hands on the desk, “you know why I have to do it.”

Trixie looked to the side, not knowing what to respond with. There was not a single reason she would’ve taken that salamander during her performance, especially when her trick would fail in return. How couldn’t Celestia understand that?

“I didn’t steal him.”

“But you were the last person who interacted with him,” Celestia replied before letting out a sigh. “Maybe your box malfunctioned and he got crushed, so you’re trying to hide it. Accidents can happen.”

Trixie raised her eyebrows but still looked to the ground. She hated how much sense it made from the outside perspective, despite it not being true.

“There is no proof for this accusation,” Trixie stated before realising she should make eye contact, so she turned her gaze back to Celestia’s forehead.

“You not only refused to let the box you put him in be examined, you ran away with it,” Celestia explained.

“A magician never reveals her secrets!” Trixie retorted immediately, clenching her fists.

“And this is why I suspect you are hiding him.”

“But Trixie is not hiding him!” Trixie stood up, raising her fists in the air. “In fact, she shall provide you with the actual culprit who wanted to ruin her Great and Powerful performance!”

A quick glance at Celestia’s face showed her scratching it.

“Do you have suspects?” Celestia asked.

“No, not yet,” Trixie replied, crossing her arms as she smirked. “But she’ll find them!”

“Alright, then I want to see Blizzard on my desk this Friday.” Hearing these words, Trixie jumped in victory, but Celestia added, “However, if you fail, you get detention starting from next week.”

“What?” Trixie exclaimed, pounding with her hands on the desk. “But I already got detention for this week!”

Celestia shrugged. “It’s not my fault you keep using your smoke bombs under smoke detectors. Be glad I give you a chance to prove your innocence, as everything points against you.”

Gritting her teeth, Trixie turned around and stomped out of Celestia’s office, making sure to slam the door when she passed it.

For Trixie, one of the worst experiences during her daily school life was waiting in line at the cafeteria. Everyone was talking at the same time, standing so close to her that she could feel their breaths on her neck, and especially obnoxious students dared to push her with their trays! If she had had it her way, she would punch them right in the face, but that would result in no meal for her.

That’s why she sighed in relief when her tray was finally full and she could walk to her seat where her friends Lavender and Fuchsia were already talking to each other.

“Cheerilee should’ve worn anything other than brown today,” Fuchsia said.

“Well, yeah, it looks weird on her,” Lavender responded, “but she’s not harming anyone with it.”

“She’s hurting my eyes. I wanted to puke when I saw her enter the class.”

Trixie sat silently next to them and ate her meal. Baked potatoes weren’t her preference, but it was still better than having nothing else. As her friends continued to talk with each other, Trixie’s mind, while still listening to them, trailed off to the missing mascot animal.

Just where could he be? Who could have stolen him? It was a genius plan to frame Trixie for this crime for sure, but she still couldn’t find any logical reason why someone would do it—except for revenge, but who didn’t love Trixie?

“What do you think of it?” Lavender asked her suddenly.

Trixie took a moment to gather herself before raising her nose in the air. “She had nothing blue or purple on her, so I don’t care.”

“That’s because you lack any fashion sense,” Fuchsia said.

“Trixie doesn’t lack fashion sense!”

“Blue would be even more hideous on Cheerilee than that ugly brown,” Fuchsia replied. “And besides, we’re not the ones who came to the Fall Formal in a magician’s costume.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “You won’t stop mentioning this, will you?”

“Nope.” Fuchsia grinned widely.

“Anyway, how did the talk with Celestia go?” Lavender asked.

Trixie sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “She suspects me of hiding him. Either I find him by the end of the week, or I get another detention.”

“You ran away with the box; of course she suspects you of having to do something with his loss.”

“You know I couldn’t have allowed that!” Trixie exclaimed. “A magician never reveals her secrets!”

Lavender continued, “But Celestia offered that only she would examine it. Would it really have hurt that much—”

“A magician,” Trixie retorted, beating her fist on the table, “never—” She beat the table another time. “—reveals her secrets!”

“There’s no point, Lav’, she won’t give in,” Fuchsia intervened before turning to Trixie. “But don’t complain then about this punishment.”

Lavender sighed and placed her hand on Trixie’s. “I’m so sorry for you. Innocent people should never be punished wrongfully.”

Trixie’s eyes moved to the spot where Lavender touched her. She could feel the warmth of it, how her hand had gently lain on top of hers, how it seemed to tickle—why were these gentle touches always so weird? She quickly drew her hands back to herself.

“Feeling sorry won’t help,” Trixie said. “I have to prove my innocence.”

“Or find that salamander,” Fuchsia added with a shrug.

“But how can we do either?” Lavender asked. “Only the three of us were on the stage during the performance, and after the trick, everyone looked everywhere for him.”

“Which concludes that he was stolen,” Trixie said, crossing her arms with a smirk. “And we know exactly where and when.”

She looked at her friends’ faces, waiting for a confirming nod. However, they only kept staring at her.

“Under the stage from the hatch,” Trixie explained, slapping her forehead. “Someone was there and snatched him while we covered the box.”

“Oh, that makes sense!” Lavender said, clapping her hands.

“And how do you intend to find out who it was?” Fuchsia asked. “It’s not like you can break into the surveillance room.”

After a click and a turn of the lock, Trixie pushed down the doorknob and opened the door to the surveillance room. “Still doubting the Great and Powerful Trixie?”

Fuchsia scuffed. “I’m more surprised that it took you just a few seconds. During your escape trick, you fumble with the lock for minutes.”

“It’s for the tension,” Trixie explained before glancing to the sides. “Lavender, you stay here and watch for anyone coming.”

The surveillance room was underwhelming from what Trixie had expected. Merely two monitors and a chaotic pile of cassettes were on the small desk, and a dusty cupboard sat by the wall. Trixie worried if their operation would even be a success.

“Man, this school’s technology is ancient,” Fuchsia said, picking up a cassette. “At least use a DVD.”

“Do you know how to use it?” Trixie asked as she sat down on the chair and clicked through the different cameras.

“Of course I do; I’m not stupid!”

“Trixie always knew you were old.”

“So are you,” Fuchsia responded and sat on the table. “Found anything?”

“Looks bad,” Trixie said. “There are only cameras around the parking lot and the entrance outside.”

“Well, would you want to be watched in your classroom?”

Trixie stopped for a moment, visualising how a camera would be pointed at her the whole time. Being around students already felt like being watched non-stop, so this would make her only more anxious. “Good point.”

She clicked through a few more cameras until Fuchsia suddenly pushed Trixie’s head to take a closer look at the screen

“What was that?” Trixie burst and pushed her to the side.

“Look!” Fuchsia said, pointing at the footage. “See this fire exit door?”

“Yeah, it’s the one behind the gym. So what?”

“Do I have to spoon-feed it to you? That’s where we could see the thief!”

Trixie raised her eyebrow, to which Fuchsia added, “It’s another entrance to the stage where we performed, and the only one we wouldn’t notice anyone sneaking in from.”

“Trixie got that part,” Trixie said, crossing her arms. “Why would you feed it to me with a spoon?”

“It’s an—There is no way you haven’t heard of this expression before.”

Trixie shrugged.

“Me having to explain it to you in such detail that you don’t have to think for yourself.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and turned back to the screen before rewinding the footage. “Idioms are stupid.”

Fuchsia sighed. “I know.”

For a while, nothing was said between them, and while Trixie paid attention to the screen, her mind was also circling around that stupid idiom. Admittedly, it made sense—which angered Trixie even more. She was neither a baby that needed to be spoon-feed, nor some idiot who had to ask what obvious expressions meant!

“Here!” Fuchsia pointed with her finger on the screen. “And the time matches exactly!”

Trixie leaned to the screen to make out the person, only to widen her eyes in surprise.

Leaning against the wall, Trixie had a clear view behind the lockers. As expected, it was all dusty, but not empty: she could see various pencils, used gum, and even confetti, none of which explained the silverfish she could make out. This school needed to be modernised immediately.

“Do we really have to wait?” Lavender asked. “School has been over for twenty minutes, and I don’t think the Rainbooms will leave the practice room anytime soon.”

“We’re trying to startle them,” Trixie replied, not locking away from a pair of running silverfish. “If we surprise them as soon as they’re about to leave, Sunset will have no time to come up with a made-up excuse.”

“Will it even make a difference if we just walked in now?”

“Of course it will!” Trixie exclaimed.

“But how?”

“It’s pointless to argue,” Fuchsia intervened. “A showman thinks like a showman—or showwoman, in our case.”

“Exactly,” Trixie said, turning finally her gaze to her friends. “Besides, it makes a great entrance, and that is what truly matters.”

“Indeed,” Fuchsia replied with a big smile that quickly faded, to which Trixie could only scratch her head. Was she on her side or not?

Luckily for them, they heard the Rainbooms’ voices getting louder and their steps approaching the door, so Trixie jumped in her place and took a firm stance. The door opened, and Trixie stretched out her hand, exclaiming loudly, “We got you, Sunset Shimmer!”

“Eep!”

Fluttershy, at whom the finger was pointed, fell backwards, but Rainbow was quick enough to catch her.

Trixie scanned the room and found Sunset back with the instruments. With a quick jump, she stood before her target and pointed her finger at her.

“We got you, Sunset Shimmer!”

Nailed it. Trixie grinned.

“What just happened?” Sunset asked.

“Do not try to deny it!” Trixie said, putting her hands on her hips. “You kidnapped Blizzard and framed the Great and Innocent Trixie!”

Carefully examining Sunset’s expression, she couldn’t find any hints to her emotional state—neither a smile, nor a raised eyebrow, nor a nervous glance at her—

“What?” Sunset asked.

In hindsight, her eyebrows had been raised, as she now furrowed them.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie caught you—” Trixie said, but got interrupted by Fuchsia clearing her throat. “—Trixie and the Illusions caught you on camera. You left through the gym’s fire exit door exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds after Blizzard was hidden inside the box.”

She crossed her arms and grinned widely, waiting for Sunset to confess her crime. However, Sunset inhaled deeply and put her guitar to the side.

“Trixie, why would I steal Blizzard? I already have Ray as my pet gecko.”

“Well,” Trixie responded, locking her eyes on Sunset’s forehead to keep the eye contact, “there might be various reasons. Maybe you felt like Ray was lonely, or you were so jealous of the Great and Powerful Trixie—which is entirely reasonable—that you wanted to enact revenge upon me.”

Sunset groaned. “First of all, I don’t envy you for anything; I have everything I could ask for through my friends.”

Trixie rolled her eyes at that feel-good reply.

“Second,” Sunset continued, “Ray is a leopard gecko; he loves it when it’s dry and warm. Now, what is Blizzard?”

“A salamander,” Trixie replied. “Close enough to a gecko.”

“No, he’s not!” Fluttershy countered with a raised voice, which was quite unusual for her. “He’s a fire salamander and loves wet and cold places. He and Ray won’t be able to feel comfortable together!”

Trixie could only chuckle nervously. And here she thought she had the case solved.

“Then why did you leave through the door behind the gym?” Fuchsia asked.

“Because I had to get the remaining props for the performance planned after yours. If you would’ve watched the footage further, you’d have seen me returning with a cardboard box. Besides, how did you get the security camera footage? Did Principal Celestia give you permission for this?”

“Um, now that you say it,” Trixie said, walking slowly backwards, “Trixie forgot that she has a lesson like… right now. Don’t we?” She looked to her friends, who got the signal and nodded in agreement. “Anyway, see you soon then!”

With these words, Trixie took out a smoke bomb and threw it to the ground before running away from the room—only to remember that she forgot to check whether the room had a smoke detector.

Luckily for her, it hadn’t.

The upcoming lesson had been a lie, but it turned out to be more true than Trixie dreaded: Luna caught her in the hallway and forced her to sit out her current detention—which might or might not have slipped from Trixie’s mind.

In itself, the punishment wasn’t too bad—ironically because of Mr. Doodle, the crankiest teacher of all. He always gave too much maths homework, but allowed the students to do them during his detention supervision and even helped when questions arose. Because of this, Trixie could finish off the most annoying tasks even quicker at the normal hour she did her homework anyway.

However, she was already done with her tasks and still had half an hour to waste. She leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, wrinkling her nose at the sight of water stains. If the rumours of an upcoming renovation during the summer vacation weren’t true, she might have considered transferring—there was no way this building would survive another year otherwise!

She took a deep breath and focused her mind back on the important topic: the stolen salamander.

She had been so sure about Sunset that it took her a while to accept her mistake, and now she was also seen as a stupid accuser because of a single piece of evidence that was in itself weak. No, she wouldn't make the mistake of false accusation again. She would solve this case and find the kidnapper, just like a real detective!

Rubbing her chin, she tried to recall how a detective would work. In terms of current evidence, there wasn’t any, so she had to take a different route to solve this case: a motive. Taking out a pencil, she wrote down any motive that came to her mind.

However, once she wrote down a few, she groaned in frustration. Revenge on her, revenge on someone connected with the salamander being a mascot, a possible animal activist taking action against Blizzard’s “imprisonment”—all these motives were too broad to point to a single suspect, or at least for her.

Nonetheless, she knew that the soccer club was responsible for taking care of Blizzard, so it might be worth investigating their members first. She couldn’t do this right now, but she knew just the right person to turn to after she’d become free from her imprisonment…

Standing before Lavender’s house, Trixie hesitated to knock. It was an announced visit, so her friend expected her, but she feared that this would give Lavender a pass to visit Trixie’s house in return.

It wasn’t that Trixie didn’t like Lavender’s presence, but there was a clear distinction between where she’d meet her friends and where she could isolate herself: Her home was her family, and anything to do with anyone else was either outside or at school. Fuchsia understood that logic—or simply accepted it—but Lavender didn’t comprehend it yet. Besides, what was the point of coming over to visit when you saw each other at school?

However, Lavender had bothered her about coming over for months now, so if Trixie had an additional reason, she might as well do it now.

Taking a deep breath, Trixie gathered her courage and rang the bell. Within seconds, the door opened, and a spitting image—except for the ponytail—of Lavender stood behind it.

“Cloudy,” Trixie muttered.

“Trixie,” Cloudy, Lavender’s twin sister, replied with an obvious sour voice and leaned on the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

“This is none of your concern,” Trixie retorted, raising her view to Cloudy’s forehead to mimic eye contact.

“It is, because this is my house.”

“It’s also your sister’s house, and she invited the Great and Powerful Trixie, so let her in!”

Cloudy didn’t reply, and Trixie didn’t bother to read her face.

“Will you?” Trixie asked, actively putting on a grin.

Cloudy stepped back, but before Trixie could enter she slammed the door.

So much about visiting Lavender. Maybe it was a sign? Trixie wouldn’t mind if that was the case.

However, the door opened a moment later with Lavender revealing herself.

“Trixie! I’m so glad to see you here!” Lavender said, going into a hug.

Trixie endured it and gave a soft pat on Lavender’s back. “Hello, Lavender.”

As soon as Lavender detached herself, she took Trixie’s hand and pulled her into her house. “Come in, come in!”

It happened so quickly that Trixie couldn’t do anything else than follow after her. She couldn’t even see what the house looked like from the inside, as her mind was too occupied with the unpleasant physical contact.

Just before Trixie could rip her hand from Lavender, her friend released her, raising her hands in a demonstrative gesture. “Welcome to my room!”

Trixie gave a quick glance. There was nothing special about it, just some posters of animals, a cupboard full with CD cases of Lavender’s favourite k-pop band, a shelf with dozens of the vampire-werewolf novels she had talked about so much and a desk with a board full of photos. All in all, it seemed very cosy and relaxing.

“Looks nice,” Trixie replied, not knowing what else to say.

“Thanks!” Lavender jumped up, clapping her hands, then offered Trixie a chair. “Take a seat.”

“Not now,” Trixie said, turning to Lavender. “We need to investigate further.”

“Oh, okay,” Lavender murmured as she looked down to the ground. “How exactly?”

“Well, we need to find motives for someone to steal Blizzard, and your sister is in the soccer club.”

Lavender nodded slowly. “Can that wait?” she asked, her voice barely hearable.

“No,” Trixie responded firmly. “We already lost too much time with my detention. Take me to her room!”

This time, Lavender went ahead without dragging Trixie after her. The door to Cloudy’s room was closed, and Lavender was about to knock when she hesitated, turning back to look at Trixie.

“My sister doesn’t like you.”

“I know,” Trixie replied.

“Why?”

Trixie took a deep breath, wondering whether this was rhetorical or simply Lavender wanting to know her perspective. “We had an argument caused by Sunset Shimmer during her… phase, and your sister expects me to apologise to her.”

“She says you punched her,” Lavender said.

“Not my fault she called me a narcissistic blowhard,” Trixie replied, getting annoyed by these questions. “Also, she made fun of me the whole day because of Sunset’s lie.”

Lavender sighed and finally knocked on the door before entering it.

“What do you want?” Cloudy said without looking up from her desk. From what Trixie could see, she was doing her homework.

“Um,” Lavender responded, rubbing her hands against each other, “Trixie wanted to ask you some questions.”

“What questions?”

“Like if there—”

“No,” Cloudy interrupted her sister, finally turning to them. “I want Trixie to tell me, not you.”

Trixie took a firm stance, placing her left hand on her hip and pointing with her right at Cloudy. “The Great and Powerful Detective Trixie”—Cloudy snorted, but Trixie didn’t let it distract her—”demands you to tell her who would be angry with your soccer club.”

“And why?” Cloudy replied, raising her eyebrow.

“To find suspects for the case of the stolen salamander, of course.”

“Everyone knows you messed up the trick and tried to hide it.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie never fails a trick!” Trixie retorted with a stomp. “Someone stole him during my performance! It was sabotage!”

“Sure,” Cloudy responded, putting on a grin. “And if there was someone angry at our club, why would they steal Blizzard?”

“To hurt your reputation and your spirit!”

Cloudy blinked, staring at Trixie in silence. It was tempting to look to the side, but Trixie held her gaze, occupying the time by trying to find a difference between the twins’ faces.

“And?” Trixie asked, crossing her arms as seconds passed.

“Velvet Sky got kicked out recently from our team, but I doubt it was her.”

Trixie rubbed her face. “Velvet was the one always wearing a yellow scarf, right?”

“Yes. You can’t miss her with her long reddish skirt.”

Hearing this, Trixie could only smirk. There was the motive she searched for—the case could well be closed soon.

“Anything else?” Cloudy asked and, once Trixie shook her head, turned back to her homework. “Good. Now get out of my room!”

Trixie was satisfied with the results. She had visited Lavender and also got a new lead on who the suspect could be, so when she left Cloudy’s room, she turned to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Lavender asked her.

“Back home,” Trixie responded, looking back at her friend.

There was something strange about her expression. Trixie couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, as there was neither a smile, nor a frown nor any eyebrow movement. Lavender’s hands were also just dangling from her body, and her posture didn’t reveal anything useful.

“Already?”

Trixie raised her eyebrow. Lavender’s voice seemed to be monotone, but Trixie was sure that she was supposed to read an emotion. It was probably subtle, or only understandable from context, which annoyed Trixie. Why couldn’t reading emotions be as simple as during her magic performances? There were either hecklers, bored people or amazed spectators, and it was easy to determine who was what.

“Yeah. I didn’t want the visit to be too long,” Trixie said, carefully searching for any expression on Lavender’s face.

“But you weren’t even…” Lavender trailed off, looking to the ground. “Did you even want to visit me?”

“I mean, we saw each other today at school and will tomorrow too. It’s not like it’s summer vacation.”

Lavender sighed. “Fine. Let me lead you out.”

She said fine, Trixie thought, calming herself with it. Lavender also smiled again when she said goodbye, so all was well. If only her subconsciousness would stop pestering her with that she missed something obvious…

Chapter 2

Trixie had made a habit of always arriving just before first period, as this avoided any social interaction in the morning. However, if she planned to confront Velvet, she had only the morning to meet her without the possible misfortune of the suspect being in a lesson.

Thus, she roamed aimlessly around the hallway, on the lookout for the student.

“Good morning, Trixie!” Pinkie greeted her, waving her arms.

“Hello,” Trixie responded.

“How are you?”

Trixie glanced at Pinkie, who had a wide smile on her face. Was she ever not happy? Was her smile genuine? Why was she so interested in Trixie when no one else had greeted her this morning?

“Doing fine,” Trixie replied the phrase she knew was expected and kept walking. She had no time for any small talk—not even mentioning how much she hated it.

“Bye!” Pinkie called after her.

That was weird, or at least that’s what Trixie thought it was. There was barely any conversation, and by the bouncing sounds—however Pinkie made them—Pinkie just moved on. Was Trixie supposed to—

Trixie shook her head. It was too early; she just wasn’t mentally prepared for the school day.

After taking a deep breath, she put on a grin, straightened her posture and strode firmly along her path.

She was, after all, the Great and Powerful Trixie and didn’t care what others thought of her.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect, as she saw Velvet standing before an open locker.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Trixie said, crossing her arms as she leaned on the wall with her back.

“Um, do you mean me?” Velvet asked.

“Yes, Trixie does.”

Velvet blinked, before rolling her eyes. “Right, you and your third person. What do you want?”

Trixie raised her hand to seemingly observe her nails—just as she had seen it in movies. “It has come to the Great and Innocent Trixie’s attention that you were kicked out from the soccer club. How come?”

“Very simple: I wasn’t very good and we got new younger members to replace me.”

“Interesting,” Trixie responded calmly and turned her gaze to Velvet, making eye contact. “And wouldn’t that anger you?”

“No, I’m too busy representing our school in the chess tournaments anyway.”

Trixie couldn’t find any suppressed rage in Velvet’s voice, and her face didn’t reveal any fear, so Trixie went back to observing her nails.

“But think about that: You look like a slacker, unable to compete even with the freshmen.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Hi, Velvet!”

Trixie looked up to see a small girl with curly orange hair and big, round glasses. She had seen her many times during her classes, but couldn’t remember her name.

“Hi, Scribble,” Velvet greeted back and closed her locker. “Trixie thinks I stole Blizzard.”

“Really?” Scribble asked, glaring at Trixie.

“Yep,” Velvet replied, giggling. “As if I was that obsessed with playing soccer.”

Trixie took a sharp breath through her teeth. From the tone of Velvet’s voice, she genuinely didn’t care about being kicked out of the soccer club. However, she could be that good at acting, couldn’t she?

“Open your locker,” Trixie demanded.

“What?” both of the girls exclaimed in unison.

“You know what Trixie said,” she replied firmly, turning to Velvet. “Open your locker.”

“I have zero obligation to do that!” Velvet retorted.

“You are a suspect of kidnapping, so prove your innocence!”

“Velvet already told you that she has other responsibilities.” Scribble positioned herself between them.

“Scribble, stop defending me every single time!” Velvet responded, pushing the small girl away. “I stood up for myself against Rainbow! I can do it against Trixie too!”

“You didn’t deserve to be kicked out!” Scribble yelled.

Trixie raised an eyebrow as she closely watched Scribble's expression. This was the rage she searched for, the motive for someone to steal Blizzard. It must have been her!

Velvet sighed and placed her hand on Scribble’s shoulder. “I appreciate it, really, but we can’t do everything together.”

“But I have no one else in the team! Everyone there dislikes and makes fun of me!”

That erased any doubt Trixie had. Every piece fit nicely together, and the only thing left for Trixie was to find proof that Scribble was the culprit.

“And you, Trixie,” Scribble said, “don’t even think that I stole that salamander! I don’t have it anywhere, neither in my locker nor at my home.”

“Fine,” Trixie replied and walked away.

After creating some distance, Trixie’s lips raised to a wide grin. Scribble had only revealed everything with her statement.

“Miss Cheerilee, may I go to the toilet?” Trixie asked.

“Of course,” Cheerilee replied.

“Can Fuchsia come with me?”

It took a moment of consideration, but Cheerilee also allowed it.

Based on Fuschia’s smirk, she already knew that Trixie had no intention of actually going to the toilet, so Trixie didn’t bother to explain it and went straight to her goal.

“You know where Scribble’s locker is?” Fuchsia asked, who was already in the know.

“Yes, it’s…” Trixie took a few more steps before stopping. “This one.”

“How long will it take to lockpick it?”

Trixie grinned as she produced a picklock. “Wanna bet?”

“For what?”

“You pay for me at the vending machine.”

Fuchsia rubbed her chin. “Under five seconds, and I’ll buy you two peanut butter cracker packages.”

“Challenge accepted!”

Trixie put her lockpick back into her pocket, took out a set of cards and slammed it on the lock, opening it instantly.

Fuchsia scuffed. “Really?”

“Locks only keep honest people out,” Trixie replied as she opened the locker. “Especially those at school.”

The locker couldn’t be any more generic: only school books and a jacket were in it, and the bell schedule and some unimportant photos were glued on the door. Trixie looked at the bottom and saw a cardboard box, which, when opened, only revealed some costumes.

“That’s it?” Trixie asked, kicking the box in frustration. “Why would Scribble store these ugly costumes anyway?”

“She’s in the drama club,” Fuchsia explained, taking a closer look at the inside of the locker herself. “I expected that you’d know this if you were suspicious of her. It would be another explanation for her knowing about the stage’s hatch.”

“Too bad nothing in here leads to that stupid salamander!” Trixie complained, walking in circles. “How can I prove my innocence if I can’t find him?”

“Well, I did warn you that you wouldn’t find Blizzard in the school.”

“It’s not about finding him, it’s about finding anything else,” Trixie replied, stopping in her pace and staring at a random poster on the wall. For an advertisement for the art club, the designers didn’t care for any symmetry. “Scribble has reasons to steal Blizzard, but it doesn’t make any sense for her to not follow up somehow.”

“Like what?”

“Like writing a blackmail letter or a ransom note to Rainbow. The return of the salamander in exchange for Velvet reentering the soccer team.”

Trixie turned her gaze to Fuchsia, who was rubbing her chin.

“That seems to make sense,” Fuchsia said, “but wouldn’t have Rainbow gotten that letter already?”

“What do I know,” Trixie sighed. “Close that locker; we’ve been out way too long.”

“You sure?” Fuchsia asked, to Trixie’s surprise, and pointed inside the locker. “Because this might be exactly what you’ve been searching for.”

Trixie followed the gesture, and her jaw dropped. When she’d kicked the box, the back wall of the locker had popped off, revealing that it was only leaning in place, and from the opened gap Trixie saw a piece of paper with glued letters—probably from some newspaper. She reached for it and read the message, which contained exactly what she had been looking for.

Crossing her arms, Trixie watched closely as Principal Celestia examined the proof, looking forward to seeing her regret at punishing an innocent student. Lavender and Fuchsia sat beside her, the former looking a little uncomfortable and anxious.

“And where did you find it?” Celestia asked, barely changing her unreadable expression to Trixie’s annoyance.

“In her locker,” Trixie explained and pointed to her right. “Fuchsia can confirm it.”

“So you broke into another student’s locker?”

“It was necessary!” Trixie exclaimed, getting frustrated at Celestia’s unimportant counter-questions. “You want to give me detention for Scribble’s crime!”

“Your situation would’ve been easier if you didn’t run away with the box containing Blizzard,” Celestia responded calmly, placing her arms on the desk and looking Trixie in her eyes.

Trixie pounded her fist on the desk. “Trixie told you this already: A magician never reveals her secrets!”

“Trust me,” Fuchsia intervened, “Trixie takes the magician’s codex very seriously, no matter what.”

“Even we don’t know how every trick works,” Lavender added.

“Still, that makes her my main suspect in this case,” Celestia said, her voice too calm for Trixie’s liking, and took out a magazine from a pile on her desk. “And regarding the evidence you gave me, I would like you to explain this to me.”

Trixie’s eyes widened as she saw the title of the magazine. “That’s ‘The Hoovedine’s News’, the most famous magician’s news journal! I always wanted to—”

Celestia opened the magazine, which revealed several letters cut out from its pages. Trixie didn’t know how to respond to that sight. She was not only shocked that someone would damage this precious magazine she’d always wanted to have, but also of the dawning realisation that Celestia accused her of planting the evidence against Scribble by herself.

“A student gave it to me,” Celestia added. “They found it in one of the hallway’s dustbins.”

“But why would Trixie throw it away in school?” Fuchsia asked. “That would be idiotic.”

“Besides,” Trixie added, taking the magazine in her hands and looking through the pages, “Trixie would never ruin this artefact! Do you know how expensive their monthly subscription is?” She looked up, chuckling nervously. “Not that Trixie can’t afford it, of course. She definitely can! In fact, she could throw one away easily if she doesn’t need one anymore!”

Upon seeing Celestia’s raising her eyebrow, Trixie lowered her face and sighed. “I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

“Who even found that magazine?” Fuchsia asked. “If you ask me, this looks like someone trying to show Trixie in a bad light.”

Trixie turned to Fuchsia, mouthing a silent “what?”, but Fuchsia wasn’t looking at her and continued, “I know that it wasn’t Trixie, as she hadn’t even seen the message until I showed it to her.”

It was difficult for Trixie to contain her burning question of what “bad light” was supposed to mean. She heard of bad lighting from photography, but no one was photographing her.

Celestia didn’t reply, and just before Trixie turned to her, she saw Fuchsia tilting her head. Seeing Celestia’s expression, she saw that it had changed slightly—was she pressing her lips together? And why was she looking to the side?

“Well—”

“It was me,” Lavender interrupted Celestia, standing up. “I found the magazine and gave it to Celestia. I…” Lavender took a deep breath and turned to Trixie. “My sister told me you’re capable of these kinds of actions, and when I found it, I really thought that it was you.”

Trixie’s jaw dropped. How could Lavender, her assistant and friend, think so poorly of her? Not that Trixie wouldn’t consider planting evidence if it were necessary, but still!

“So we’re back to zero,” Fuchsia sighed. “At least we know that this case is aimed solely against Trixie.”

“Not only against her,” Trixie added, stomping with her foot, “but also The Hoovedine’s News!”

“I doubt that it goes this far,” Fuchsia replied with a groan.

Trixie knew that Fuchsia was correct, but she nonetheless crossed her arms and raised her face up in the air. An attack against her was also an attack on the magician’s community, after all!

“In any case, I’m going to talk to Scribble and Velvet about Blizzard,” Celestia said. “But as for you three, I demand that you stop breaking into other student’s privacy, even if you have fair suspicion against them. If necessary, I could check them out myself, but you’d have to provide me with a good reason.”

“Does it mean that Trixie won’t get detention anymore?” Trixie asked.

“No,” Celestia replied firmly. “Our deal still stands.”

“But you agree that this magazine is proof that someone is defaming the Great and Powerful Trixie’s name?”

Celestia looked in Trixie’s eyes, who couldn’t take the awkwardness she felt during that and raised her view to the Principal’s forehead. The lack of an immediate reply made Trixie nervous.

“I might consider it,” Celestia finally responded to Trixie’s relief. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Trixie shook her head and Celestia dismissed them. Outside in the hallway, the school bell rang, signalling the next lesson.

“Ugh, maths,” Fuchsia complained. “Gotta go, you know how punctual Doodle is.”

“See you soon,” Lavender replied and was also about to leave, but Trixie moved in her way.

“We need to check your sister’s locker.”

Lavender stepped back, raising her hands. “Do you think that…?”

Trixie nodded. “It makes perfect sense.”

“But you said that with Scribble too.”

“That’s because I didn’t know about the magazine!” Trixie replied.

“But Celestia said—”

“I know what she said,” Trixie groaned. “But it’s nothing more than us not liking each other, so I doubt she’d consider it a ‘good reason’. Do you know where her locker is?”

Lavender exhaled, but nodded and led Trixie to it.

This had to be it. Trixie was tired of running after false suspects; one of them had to finally be it!

Opening Cloudy’s locker, there was nothing but sport costumes and a net of soccer balls.

“Nothing,” Lavender commented. “What a relief.”

“One moment,” Trixie muttered and pushed the back wall of the locker. It moved, but as soon as it did, silverfish crawled away. A lot of silverfish.

“Bleugh.” Trixie quickly closed the locker. “This school absolutely needs pest control.”

Trixie’s anxiety was only getting worse. It made her long for the days when the worst she had to deal with was waiting at the line in the cafeteria. Now she had to be on the search for any sign who might be resenting her. She knew what hateful expressions looked like, but she couldn’t find any. Who hated her? Why would anyone go so far as to destroy the magician community’s most popular magazine?

Out of the line and sitting next to Fuchsia, as Lavender’d had her lunch break earlier today, Trixie kept looking around. Everyone chatted normally with everyone else; there were no cunning stares aimed at her. At this rate, she would surely get another detention!

“You should tell Lavender,” Fuchsia said, taking Trixie by surprise.

“What?” Trixie asked, turning her gaze to Fuchsia.

“You know what I mean,” Fuchsia replied and pointed with her finger at her face. She then made several expressions.

Trixie groaned, rolling her eyes and turning her gaze to her tray. Couldn’t this wait? She was solving a defamation case!

“This is serious, Trixie,” Fuchsia added.

Trixie didn’t reply, not knowing what to say anyway. She also saw how four grains of rice on her plate were aligned perfectly in a straight line—which was of course barely related to the current topic, but it was a detail too rare to not notice.

“She thinks you hate her.”

Raising her eyebrow, Trixie turned her face back to Fuchsia. “What? Why?”

“You ran off immediately after visiting her,” Fuchsia explained. “From what she told me, she showed you her room and you immediately forced her to lead you to her sister.”

“Well, yes. I visited her because she’d asked me to for months now, and I also wanted to question her sister regarding the soccer club. You know, killing two birds with one stone.”

Fuchsia smirked. “Trixie using expressions? What happened?”

Trixie groaned. “Just tell me what I did wrong in her eyes.”

“You did not visit her.”

Trixie turned her gaze back to her food. “I did. I was in her room.”

“You don’t visit someone for less than a minute!” Fuchsia said, her voice louder this time. “I highly doubt you’d not know this despite—”

“She said me leaving was fine,” Trixie quickly interrupted her.

Fuchsia brought a hand to her face, sighing. “You could tell her you’d punch her and she would turn her cheek to you. You know that she’s way too polite and won’t say anything that she thinks is not comfortable for the other person. That’s my job.”

Trixie scoffed and stuffed her mouth with her food. Everything sounded true, and she hated that she couldn’t deny it. She should’ve listened to her intuition back then; she knew that not everyone was as direct as her.

“Can’t I just apologise to her and tell I was too occupied with this case?” Trixie asked.

“No.” Fuchsia’s voice was serious. “She’s had these doubts for a while now, and her sister feeds them too. If you don’t come clear with how you feel, she will take it as you distancing yourself from her or even just using her for your magic show.”

Trixie gulped. “How do I tell her? I’ve never done this before.”

“Be honest,” Fuchsia replied. “If anyone is empathetic and understanding, it’s her.”

Anticipation of an upcoming doom was always the worst. Trixie’s dread settled somewhere in her stomach as she waited for Lavender to pass the entrance door to leave the school—the sewing club was supposed to end just after Trixie’s detention. She couldn’t even distract her thoughts with the salamander case, as at this point she couldn’t even speculate who might be the culprit.

How she wished that Fuchsia was wrong about Lavender, but this was obviously not true. Why was she dreading this conversation so much anyway? Did she fear that Lavender would treat her differently?

Once she saw Lavender, she approached her. “Hey, wanna go home together?” She did her best to sound casual.

Lavender looked at Trixie for a second, her expression too subtle for Trixie to understand, before she gave a soft smile. “Sure.”

Trixie didn’t say anything for a while. She didn’t know what to do anyway except to go straight to the topic, which she couldn’t mention until they had some privacy outside. Lavender was silent too, which was, once Trixie noticed it, not part of her usual behaviour—she was always able to start her small-talk and ask questions to keep the conversation going.

Trixie used this silence to take short glances at Lavender, but she couldn’t read anything from her face besides the lack of a smile, and that was also unusual for her.

Fuchsia was more than right. This was urgent. Who knew if Lavender had already decided to ditch her?

“Hey, um,” Trixie broke the silence, not knowing how to begin. “Can we talk?”

“Is this regarding my sister?” Lavender asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll search through her room during her soccer training.”

Trixie sighed. “Not exactly that. I, um, it’s—” She jumped in surprise when she felt a hand being put on her shoulder.

For a short moment, Trixie could see the widened eyes, the opened mouth, the fear in Lavender’s expression. Then, her face became expressionless again as she moved her hand back to herself.

Trixie gritted her teeth. Why was it so difficult? Why couldn’t she just say it? From what was she so scared?

Looking down to the ground, Trixie sighed. She had to do it no matter what.

“Lavender, have you noticed anything strange about me?”

There was no reply, and Trixie didn’t look up, so she continued.

“Have you seen how I can’t keep eye contact? It’s… overwhelming sometimes. As a performer, I’m supposed to understand peoples’ faces, but too often they all look the same.”

She raised her head. Lavender’s expression had changed slightly. Maybe she was listening with interest, maybe she was disappointed. Trixie couldn’t tell anyway, so she looked to the side.

“It’s like a magic trick that fools me. Others can simply tell what the emotion is supposed to be, while I need to look and analyse certain features first.”

“Can I hug you?”

Trixie looked in surprise at Lavender’s face, where she could see a weak smile. “Huh?”

“Just once,” Lavender begged.

“You already hugged me yesterday!” Trixie retorted. “And what does that have to do with what I’m talking about?”

Within a moment, Lavender spread her arms and had Trixie locked in a tight hug.

“Let go of me!” Trixie demanded as she fought with all her might to get free, but with no success. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Alright, alright,” Lavender chuckled softly as she let go. “Sorry. I like to comfort people this way.”

“Well, Trixie doesn’t like hugs!” Trixie declared and crossed her arms. “And you and your clingy hands are always upon her. Stop it!”

“You also don’t like being touched,” Lavender said as she grinned. “Anything else?”

Trixie blinked. This was the Lavender she had met at first, all caring and always with a smile. But why? What changed?

“Maybe also your repetitiveness?” Lavender asked as she raised her fist in the air. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Trixie scuffed. “These are titles that I deserve!” Then it dawned upon her. “Did you just say repetitiveness?”

“Let’s also not forget your limited but very focused interests,” Lavender added. “Including you oversharing by giving me a whole monologue lecture about stage magic when we first met.”

“But… Did you always know I have Asperger’s syndrome?” Trixie asked.

There it was, spoken in words. It went through Trixie’s lips unintentionally, but it was still a relief to reveal it.

“I didn’t. I got it once you told me about facial expressions,” Lavender replied. “And then everything else fitted together like puzzle pieces.”

Trixie could only stare at Lavender with her mouth open. While she was glad that Lavender figured it out already, there was a burning question in her mind.

“How do you know about autism?”

“It’s called autism spectrum disorder,” Lavender chuckled. “And, technically speaking, Asperger's syndrome is not considered to be stand-alone anymore and is part of the spectrum.”

Trixie waved with her hand. “Who cares? And you didn’t answer my question!”

“Right. My cousin has it, so I taught myself about it.” Lavender sighed. “But I still don’t get how I didn’t see it sooner.”

“Don’t be sad about it,” Trixie replied, grinning. “Trixie is just too Great and Powerful!”

Lavender laughed, and Trixie joined her. Everything had gone far better than Trixie had ever anticipated.

They continued their path, and this time, Trixie was relaxed, even when they didn’t talk. She was sure that, while Lavender now knew why Trixie acted how she did, her friend still had to process it.

But still, why hadn’t she told Lavender it sooner? It was such a relief knowing that her friend would understand her much better. Hadn’t she made it more difficult for herself?

“When were you diagnosed?” Lavender asked, breaking the silence.

“Um, I wasn’t,” Trixie responded, not bothering to turn her gaze to Lavender anymore. “Fuchsia asked me if I had it two years ago, and once she explained to me what it was, I denied it at first. However, the more I read about it, the more,” Trixie scratched her chin, looking for the right words, “it made sense?”

“So it’s self-diagnosed?”

Trixie shrugged. “I guess. All I know is that I finally understood why I always seemed to be a foreigner speaking a different language.”

“I see.”

For a moment, there was silence between them again, but it didn’t last long.

“I assume you don’t like coming over at all, do you?”

Trixie bit her lip. Of course this question had to come up; it made perfect sense with being the catalyst of this conversation.

“I don’t see a reason why I should come over. It’s a local division of who I meet where, you know? I don’t have to expect surprises this way.”

“But if I invited you and Fuchsia to come over for the weekend tomorrow, would you still accept it?”

Trixie turned her gaze to Lavender. This didn’t seem like a joke, and Lavender gave a wide—probably nervous—smile.

“Please! My parents will be out this weekend, and we’ve never had a sleepover, you know? I’ve always wanted to have one since childhood!”

Trixie sighed. “Fine. But just so you know, this doesn’t mean you can visit my house.”

“Of course!” Lavender stretched her arms out and was about to hug Trixie, but stopped and returned to her position, chuckling nervously. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trixie replied and stretched out her fist, which Lavender bumped with hers.

Trixie had never been to a sleepover, and recalling how they went in stories made her wish to cancel it immediately. If this in any way involved gossiping, playing truth and dare or discussing topics like crushes, she’d leave on the spot—no matter how angry Lavender would be!

Thankfully, her research indicated that it didn’t have to be like that, so she hoped for the best.

Before she left her house, she checked the list that Fuchsia had sent her, including the final sentence: dont worry, youll like it i promise (;

The message would have given Trixie much more comfort if any punctuation and capitalisation rules had been applied—including not mirroring the smiley face, which Trixie knew Fuchsia had done intentionally to annoy her—but it did its job.

Fuchsia’s father picked her up in his car, and while he and Fuchsia talked with each other, Trixie sat silently in the backseat, looking out of the window.

Sure, she couldn’t completely ignore the conversation that was going on, but her mind still wandered to other things, like how Blizzard still remained lost. Just where was that salamander? Did, at the end of the day, some eco-student steal it for animal freedom and release him? But why then the magazine to make it appear as if Trixie planted fake evidence? It wasn’t Cloudy, as Lavender had searched her sister’s room thoroughly and found no trace of him.

Trixie grunted quietly. This case frustrated her more and more, and while Trixie didn’t like getting detention, the fact that she would get more despite being innocent infuriated her even more. When she’d ever find the culprit, she’d make sure they got twice—no, seven times the punishment she would have to go through!

But seeing Lavender’s house, Trixie shook her head to calm down her thoughts. She promised herself to not mention the salamander case during the visit. Besides, a break from it was much needed anyway.

“So I’m like: ‘Your mum!’, and he went all silent,” Fuchsia said, her mouth full of crisps that she munched loudly.

“That wasn’t nice,” Lavender replied, a bowl with fruits cut into small pieces sitting before her.

“Nice or not, that moron deserved it for not being able to lose to a girl.”

“He never likes to lose; it’s not because you’re a girl.”

Fuchsia shrugged and took a sip of her soda.

Meanwhile, Trixie laid silently on a comfortable pillow that might as well have been considered a couch with its size. With how cosy it was and how easily one could lay down on it, she considered buying one for herself—even if she had barely any free space in her room with all her magic utensils lying around.

She listened to their conversation, but she didn’t have anything to add to it so far, so she examined the photos on the desk in the meantime. They were mostly photos of Lavender and Cloudy as young children, but one photo stood out to her.

In itself, the photo wasn’t that well shot, but Trixie remembered it being the very first selfie Lavender took with Trixie and Fuchsia. How long ago was it, two years? Time passed way too quickly.

“But honestly, I don’t like these sports games at all,” Lavender said. “Everyone takes them so seriously, as if their lives depend on it. Can’t we just play for fun?”

“You don’t get it,” Fuchsia replied, throwing her now empty bag away and opening a new one. “Taking it seriously is the fun part. When you jump straight into a pole hard enough to fracture your skull, that’s when you know it’s the real deal!”

Lavender shuddered. “It’s just a game. Everyone will forget it the moment it ends; crushing your skull goes too far.”

“Gosh, Lav’, that’s why no one wants you on their team.”

“I’m just saying.”

Were the photos sorted by date? Trixie assumed as much, as Lavender got older in them from left to right. But what system was used to decide which photo went to the top or the bottom? Maybe per month?

“Anyway, Trixie,” Fuchsia said as she stretched her arms. “Mind passing me another can?”

Trixie nodded, took out a can from a box next to her and threw it to Fuchsia. “Not gonna lie, I like this sleepover. I imagined it being much worse.”

“I’m so glad to hear it!” Lavender smiled, clapping her hands. “I was so worried about messing it up for anyone.”

“Told you y’all overthink it,” Fuchsia replied. “We’re good company at school, so why would it be anything else?”

“It’s not the same,” Lavender said. “As the host, I had to plan this sleepover and also consider how to make it comfortable—”

“Lav’,” Fuchsia interrupted her, “just relax. What do you think would happen? Us following a schedule you made up?”

“Not planning anything sounds awful though,” Trixie responded, glancing at the shelf with the books. “I mean, if you look at my magic shows, there—”

“Gotta stop you right there,” Fuchsia said.

Trixie furrowed her eyebrows. “And why?”

“Once you start talking about your magic tricks, your mouth becomes a Möbius strip of words.”

Trixie scratched her chin, trying to visualise this metaphor. It was a funny imagery—which could also be taken as an insult, but she had known Fuchsia long enough to know that she was always exaggerating.

“It’s figurative,” Lavender explained. “Basically, it means—”

“I know what it means,” Trixie retorted immediately. “You don’t have to spoon-feed me everything.”

“Sorry,” Lavender chuckled, scratching the back of her head. “You looked a little lost.”

Trixie sighed and sunk her head deeper into the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she indeed looked lost, or Lavender knew that autistic people might have difficulties understanding figurative language.

Sure, Trixie certainly had taken expressions literally, but she knew of the concept of idioms and only had problems whenever she heard one for the first time. Would Lavender change her way of speaking from now on? Was that something Trixie wanted? In the end, she wanted Lavender to treat her not like a dull child, but like any other human being—no, like a close friend.

A phone ringing ripped Trixie from her thoughts.

“What’s that?” Fuchsia asked.

“A reminder,” Lavender explained, turning the alarm off. “I planned for us to watch a movie at ten.”

Fuchsia slapped her forehead. “What did I just say about making a schedule?”

“It was just in case,” Lavender responded with a nervous chuckle. “Besides, I feel like watching a movie anyway, don’t you agree?”

“I’m with you,” Trixie replied. “The ceiling is a boring TV.”

“I won’t mind,” Fuchsia said. “So, what movies do you have?”

“Um,” Lavender stood up as she walked to her laptop. “I thought of watching one on a streaming service. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

“Trixie has several,” Trixie immediately responded, sitting up. “I would suggest—”

“Ugh, no magician stuff, please,” Fuchsia moaned. “I had enough after practising our performances.”

Trixie scoffed, but recalling the months of them perfecting their stage act, she could understand Fuchsia. While her friends had interest in magic shows, theirs was nowhere near to Trixie’s love for it.

“Maybe something animated?” Lavender suggested. “I liked the new one with the mermaids.”

“Nah, we need something scary,” Fuchsia replied, putting on a wide grin.

Trixie felt the creeps crawling over her back, knowing exactly what she was going to suggest.

“Scary?” Lavender asked. “I’m not a big fan of horror.”

“Oh, Lav’,” Fuchsia chuckled. “You’re missing out. There is nothing better for a sleepover than everyone covering themselves under a blanket in fear after watching a horror movie. Maybe even all hugging each other.” Fuchsia wiggled her eyebrows at Trixie, who scoffed in return.

“Hm, what do you suggest?” Lavender asked.

Trixie stood up. “Don’t you dare suggest—”

“—The Screaming Trees!” Fuchsia yelled, raising her hands in the air. Her evil grin was so big that Trixie could see her every single tooth.

“No!” Trixie shouted. “We won’t watch that abomination!”

“It’s the best movie ever created!” Fuchsia retorted, pointing her finger at Trixie. “You’re just too dumb to see how it’s a masterpiece of art!”

“Too dumb?” Trixie yelled. “If there is someone dumb, it’s the stupid humans in the movie residing near that forest!”

“Maybe dumb, but logical.”

“There is nothing logical about moving next to a forest that screams the whole night!”

“I’ve told you multiple times: it happened during a famine, and the forest was the only place with a river not harmed by the drought. Humans have resided throughout history where food is.”

Trixie was about to respond, but a sudden realisation silenced her. Humans residing where food is—it’s also applicable to animals!

“Um, are you serious with your suggestion, Fuchsia?” Lavender asked, rubbing her arms. “I’ve heard… many bad comments about it.”

“They clearly have no taste,” Fuchsia said, waving her hand. “They call it unnecessary gore, I call it absurd humour.”

“Is it scary?”

“It's a comedy for me, but Trixie couldn’t sleep for days after we watched it. Just look at her now, still in shock from even mentioning it.”

Lavender walked in front of Trixie, waving her hand before her face. “Are you alright?”

“I know where Blizzard is,” Trixie muttered.

Chapter 3

“Welp, Lav’, you can definitely claim to have the most unique sleepover,” Fuchsia said, giggling at her own joke.

“Is it really necessary to break into our school?” Lavender asked Trixie. “I doubt Blizzard will be going anywhere.”

“We already discussed this back at your home,” Fuchsia replied. “And you can’t deny that this is exciting.”

“But isn’t it a cri—”

“Will you two shut up?” Trixie grunted. “You’re distracting me!”

When her friends finally stopped talking, Trixie took a deep breath and wiggled her lockpick one more time. A click indicated that the last pin was in place and Trixie turned the lock, opening the entrance door. As she stood up, she stretched her legs from having had to kneel down for so long.

“Alright,” Trixie said. “Let’s go.”

“But this is trespassing,” Lavender replied. “I don’t want to end up—”

“If you’re too scared, just stay outside,” Trixie retorted, looking at Lavender’s face. Lavender glanced to the side, biting her lip, before she sighed in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.”

Using the flashlights from their phones, they walked through the hallways to their destination. It was a tense atmosphere, at least for Trixie, but her two friends also remained silent and moved as quietly as possible. Despite surely being alone, Trixie took a glance before passing every corner.

“How much longer?” Fuchsia asked.

Trixie looked around. “Just one more row and—”

“Boo!”

Trixie jumped up and screeched. Lavender let her phone fall to the ground as she screamed too and hid her face behind her hands.

The shock vanished as soon as Fuchsia started to laugh.

“Are you kidding me?” Trixie shouted. “Why did you do that?”

Fuchsia held her stomach, unable to stop her laughter. Trixie kept her wish to punch her in the face and watched instead how Lavender picked up her phone.

“Screen is shattered,” Lavender muttered as she swiped on the screen. “But at least it’s still working.”

Fuchsia took a deep breath, calming down her laughter, and looked at the damage done. “Just a few scratches, but I’ll buy you a new one.”

“No need, thanks, I wanted to buy a new phone anyway.”

Since Trixie was shining her light at her friends, she could see a quick smirk on Fuchsia’s face. Did Fuchsia know Lavender would reply like that? Should she call it out? Was this justice for Lavender?

“What are you looking at?” Fuchsia asked, tilting her head.

“Trixie is… um…”

“Let’s just go,” Lavender said and walked forward. “The sooner we get over this mission the better.”

Trixie nodded and was about to turn around, but the quiet sound of a footstep got her attention. “Did you hear that?”

For seconds, it was silent as everyone listened closely to their surroundings.

“You probably imagined it.” Fuchsia broke the silence.

Trixie grunted, being absolutely sure that she hadn’t hallucinated. But not wanting to cause a scene, she followed after Lavender, who was already standing before her sister’s locker.

“Alright, Trixie,” Lavender said. “Prove your claim.”

Something was off with her voice, but Trixie couldn’t tell what exactly. It almost felt… icy? But why? Wouldn’t she want to know the truth and solve this case?

Despite these questions, Trixie wordlessly went to the lock and used her lockpick.

“No ramming it?” Fuchsia asked.

“I don’t want to scare Blizzard,” Trixie replied. “And please, no talking anymore until I catch him.”

Despite the lights from her friends, lockpicking the lock took much more effort, especially since Trixie tried to undermine any noises.

She knew that Blizzard was in Cloudy’s locker; he had to be. The feeling of Lavender staring at her gave her no other option, which didn’t help with the uprising nervousness and her shaking hands.

But at last, the lock opened, and Trixie removed it from the door.

“Flashlights out. Have the container for Blizzard ready.”

As soon as it went dark, Trixie slowly opened the locker. In the almost pitch-blackness of the hallway, it took for her eyes a while to adjust to the—

“Stop giggling,” Trixie whispered to Fuchsia, holding her breath.

“Sorry, I’m too excited,” Fuchsia replied also in a whispering noise. “Do you see him?”

“Not yet.”

As Trixie waited to see anything, she groaned silently as she heard Fuchsia fidgeting with her feet. It was probably quiet enough to not scare away Blizzard, but why couldn’t Fuchsia control herself in this important moment?

Her thoughts shifted as soon as she made out yellow spots in a corner. Blizzard was just where she expected him: behind the locker’s back wall, with plenty of food in the form of masses of silverfish and comfort in the humidity of the school walls—surroundings he certainly preferred over Cloudy’s box from which he’d almost certainly escaped.

Holding her breath, she stretched out her hand and slowly pushed the wall. Luckily, the spots not only remained, but she could see more of them now. He couldn’t be in a better spot for her to catch—

Did she hear footsteps again?

“Who’s making these noises?” Trixie whispered, looking back.

“Fuchsia,” Lavender replied.

“No, not her. Someone else.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Fuchsia said, stopping her fidgeting for a short moment before continuing it.

“Neither did I,” Lavender responded.

Trixie pressed her lips together and turned back to the yellow spots. She couldn’t have imagined these steps, could she?

Whatever, she had to—

Again these noises of footsteps!

Shaking her head, Trixie ignored them and reached slowly with her free hand for the salamander. Just a few more—

The yellow spots moved out of sight.

Trixie gritted her teeth and beat in anger the locker. She was so close to clearing her name and her performance, to not get any more detention, to have this case finally solved! Why did that stupid salamander have to run away?

“Did you catch it?” Lavender asked.

The footsteps became quicker, and it clicked for Trixie.

It was time for a trick.

“Yes,” she lied, “give me the container!”

The lights from the phones went on, and Trixie mimicked putting the salamander in the container and closed it immediately.

“Finally,” Trixie said, exhaling loudly.

“Can’t believe you actually caught him,” Fuchsia commented. “Was he behind the wall?”

“He was right in the gap. I couldn’t be more lucky.”

Hearing the footsteps again, Trixie had to gather all her self-control to not look in their direction.

“Well, at least this trespassing was not a waste,” Lavender said in a monotonous voice. “Let’s just hope that Celestia won’t—”

Before Lavender could finish her sentence, hands appeared from the darkness and ripped the container out of Trixie’s hand. Her friends screamed, but Trixie, having expected it, jumped and tackled down the thief.

In the darkness, Trixie couldn’t make out who it was, but she got hold of the arms and pinned them down. “Got you!”

A kick in her stomach, and Trixie let go, bent double from the pain and having trouble breathing. The thief pushed her away.

Trixie couldn’t do anything. She had to breathe, to inhale the oxygen she so badly needed, but she couldn’t. The more seconds passed, the more she panicked. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t make any sound either. Tears filled up her eyes as a pressure built up from the inside, feeling like she might explode.

Then she gasped, and Trixie could finally breathe again. Never before had she felt such a relief as she did at this moment. She could feel her racing heartbeat in her temples, but with each inhale it calmed down.

Feeling better after a while, she sat up and looked around, trying to figure out what had happened during her recovery time.

One phone laid on the ground, its flashlight shining against the ground, and Trixie could hear a quiet sobbing nearby.

Did someone get hurt? Trixie picked up the phone from the ground and shone it in the direction of the sobbing, which revealed Lavender sitting against the wall and hiding her face in her hands.

“Are you hurt?” Trixie asked, coming nearer.

Lavender shook her head.

“Did you see who it was?”

It took a moment before Lavender nodded.

“Was it Cloudy?”

Lavender pulled her knees to herself and nodded once again.

“Perfect!” Trixie exclaimed, jumping on the spot.

“Shut up,” Lavender replied, her voice barely audible.

“What do you mean?” Trixie said. “We should be happy that this case is now solved!”

Lavender didn’t reply, remaining hunched against the wall. The more Trixie watched her, the more annoyed she got. Why wasn’t Lavender happy too? Why was she crying? Shouldn’t she be happy for Trixie that this injustice was now revealed?

“Is this because of your sister?” Trixie asked, to which Lavender still didn’t say anything.

“You know that she stole Blizzard, right?” Trixie added, raising her voice. “She ruined our performance, wasted our time with Velvet and Scribble, even planted fake evidence and ruined a previous magician’s magazine, and yet you feel sad for her?”

No reaction.

Before Trixie could say anything else, Fuchsia appeared, heavy panting.

“Sorry, Trixie,” she said, catching her breath, “I couldn’t catch her.”

“Don’t worry,” Trixie replied with a smirk. “We know who it was.”

“But she has the container with Blizzard.”

Trixie laughed. “No, Blizzard is still between the lockers. The Great and Powerful Trixie tricked Cloudy by pretending to have caught him, and she fell right into her trap and exposed herself!”

“Smart.” Fuchsia turned her gaze to Lavender. “Lav’, are you okay?”

Lavender remained silent, her face still hidden behind her hands.

“She shouldn’t be crying,” Trixie said, crossing her arms. “She should be relieved that she now knows how evil her sister is!”

Fuchsia sighed. “Trixie, don’t you remember the Haytuber street magician you showed me once?”

Trixie widened her eyes, knowing exactly where Fuchsia was going.

“And do you remember your anger when you saw a video of how he faked the spectator’s reactions? Shouldn’t you have been happy according to your own logic?”

Trixie grunted.

Fuchsia was right; she always was. How was she, despite being overly critical of others, always so understanding when she had to be? Trixie wished she could be even remotely like her, but she couldn’t—or didn’t want to. She should’ve understood Lavender, been sympathetic, but instead she got angry at her. Of course, she thought bitterly; everything had to revolve around Trixie herself.

Turning to Lavender, Trixie muttered, “I’m sorry,”

Fuchsia sighed. “Anyway, what do we do now with Blizzard? Are we still trying to catch him?”

“Not sure,” Trixie responded. “We know where he is, and it’s probably easier to tell Celestia than possibly scaring him away.”

“Makes sense,” Fuchsia said and turned to Lavender. “Come, Lav’, let’s go home.”

Lavender didn’t move, and when Fuchsia offered her a hand to help stand up, she slapped it away.

Having compared Lavender’s case with the haytuber’s, Trixie understood her now. She knew that it was a mixture of anger and disappointment, but how could she comfort her friend?

Then she remembered how Lavender loved to do it. The thought caused Trixie’s skin to crawl, but it had to be done.

Kneeling down, Trixie spread her arms and hugged Lavender. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.”

Feeling Lavender’s arm wrap around Trixie gave her the confirmation that it was the right decision, and a moment later, Fuchsia joined in.

It didn’t feel that bad.

Trixie didn’t have insomnia, she just had trouble falling asleep. It had been worse in her childhood when she couldn’t sleep until after 3 AM, so she was sure that these restless nights would resolve themselves.

Even so, tonight must just have been the one night where sleep eluded her entirely. Was this because Lavender’s room was a different one than what she used to, because she couldn’t ignore the sounds of her friends’ breathing or because her mind was occupied with imagining how Celestia would react when she found out what actually happened?

It didn’t matter, as she also had to go to the toilet now. She knew that her tiredness would vanish as soon as she stood up, but it became unbearable, so she had no choice.

Tip-toeing to the bathroom, flushing the toilet, and quietly washing her hands—every noise always felt much louder whenever it was night. At home, she’d fear to wake up her mother, and here, there were strangers.

Drying her hands on a towel, she could hear quiet footsteps followed by a door opening in the hallway.

“Trixie?” Cloudy asked, peeking through the door frame.

When Trixie and her friends had arrived back at Lavender’s house, they went straight before Cloudy’s room, but the door was locked and Cloudy didn’t reply, so this was the first time she’d seen Cloudy since they returned.

“Yes, that’s me, the Great and Powerful in person,” Trixie responded, smirking. “How did you like my empty container trick? Pretty smart, wasn’t it?”

Cloudy looked to the ground.

“Of course, your sister is greatly disappointed in you. She wasn’t even happy to find out that her dearest friend was innocent.”

“What does she see in you?” Cloudy asked, raising her head and looking Trixie in the eyes. “What makes her consider you a friend?”

“Excuse me,” Trixie said, placing her hand on the chest, “who wouldn’t want to be friends with the Great and Powerful Trixie?” Before she would accidentally look away, she went back to her foolproof method of staring at Cloudy’s forehead.

“You know, Trixie, unlike you, I actually care for my sister.”

Trixie scoffed and crossed her arms. Arguing against that statement would mean the Great and Powerful Trixie had a soft side, which wasn’t good for her magician’s persona—right?

“And when I saw how you grew to like her despite how you treat her, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“I don’t treat her badly!” Trixie retorted.

“Oh, you don’t?” Cloudy asked, moving out from behind the doorframe. “You ignore and push her away, Trixie. She felt more like you just kept her around to use her for your performances, and you couldn’t care less about her feelings. Even when you visited her, you ran away as soon as you had what you needed.

“I thought that when I stole Blizzard, she’d see how awful you are. I would’ve placed him in Scribble’s locker, who had an alibi, and it would’ve looked like you declared him stolen and hid him in someone else’s locker to save your own stupid reputation. This way, my sister would finally stop hurting herself by being around you.”

Hearing Cloudy’s perspective, Trixie couldn’t do anything else than pressing her lips together. It all made sense to her.

Cloudy continued, “But then Blizzard escaped, and I couldn’t catch him again. Even bait didn’t help; all I managed to do was gather these pesky insects.” She shuddered mentioning them and sighed. “Anyway, it looks like I just ruined everything. Evil people never see justice. The sooner I accept it, the better.”

With these words, Cloudy returned to her room, and Trixie could hear her lock the door. In the heavy silence that followed, she tip-toed back to Lavender’s room and laid in her bed, closing her eyes.

But now she really couldn’t relax, her mind rattling and spinning and refusing to calm down, going over each word Cloudy had said to her.

One sentence in particular stuck out to her: Evil people never see justice, and she knew Cloudy meant her.

Was she evil? Was her behaviour considered evil by outsiders? It certainly was for Cloudy, seeing how far she’d gone, but did anyone else share this view?

Opening her eyes, she muttered five words that she overused intentionally:

“The Great and Powerful Trixie.”

She grunted and repeated it again.

It didn’t sound well when she whispered it, and in the quietness the flooding thoughts were close to drowning her.

She couldn’t take her restless state anymore and stood up, walking out of the room as she rubbed her temples in a circular motion, hoping that it would calm her thoughts down.

It didn’t.

“The Great and Powerful in person,” she muttered as she went down the stairs. “Pretty smart, isn’t it?”

Speaking with herself—was it weird? It certainly helped her with organising and focusing her thoughts, and no one was listening anyway. She just had to be quiet so as to not wake anyone up.

“Greatly disappointed in you,” she continued, walking in circles around the hallway. “Dearest friend being innocent.”

She stopped in her movement, visualising in her mind Cloudy standing before her.

“Care for my sister,” she said, then remembered the intonation used. “Care for my sister.”

Repeating the way Cloudy said it, she could feel the hatred Cloudy must’ve had against her. But Trixie cared for Lavender! She even told her about being on the autism spectrum, or having Asperger’s, or—

She really should look up what the differences were.

“You ignore her,” she muttered again as she went back to walking in circles.

Was it her fault? Could she blame her Asperger’s for it? Or was it her decision to put on the non-caring persona, making magic her entire identity before her classmates?

“She’d see how awful you are.”

When did her third person thing even start? When did it fully evolve into “the Great and Powerful Trixie”?

She knew why she did it.

“You couldn’t care less for her.”

Trying to belong, trying to fit in, trying to understand what was going on, “reading the room”—no matter what she tried, she couldn’t succeed. So why bother trying? Why not be the obnoxious but skillful magician and let her every interaction be through her acting persona? Everyone thought anyway that she didn’t care, so why not play into what they believe? She never knew how to talk to a group, so why not burst in with talking about herself?

“And yet you feel sad about her.”

Trixie rubbed her forehead.

“Feel sad about her.”

She could see the sun rising through the window. It was already morning, and she still hadn’t slept. Her thoughts also circled now where she’d make up for the lost sleep, what part of her daily routine she should sacrifice for it. It didn’t help that she was still self-reflecting, either.

Maybe she was on the path to becoming evil? Weren’t villains in movies all isolated?

“I like to comfort people this way.”

Trixie froze, a smile forming on her face as she remembered how she comforted Lavender in the school. An evil person wouldn’t have hugged her, an evil person wouldn’t have apologised for missing signals and, most important of all, an evil person wouldn’t have such amazing and understanding friends like she had.

She could be herself with them, she could interact with them, and they understood her the same as she understood them.

Maybe not everyone thought that Trixie cared, but her friends knew it, and that’s what really mattered—at least for now.

“Trixie,” she said quietly, raising her arms in the air, “the Great and Powerful.”

It sounded beautiful and, most importantly, not evil.

Back from the sleepover, Trixie laid down with a big sigh on her bed, staring at the blue ceiling above her. In that moment of being alone, of her surroundings being all silent, a sudden exhaustion overcame her, but not a physical one.

It was a weird feeling that she didn’t know how to describe. Usually, she got them whenever she returned from school, but it wasn’t as intense as now. Not a single thought came to her, and while she could technically react to anything happening around her, she was sure that her replies were simple parroted phrases. Sure, she had gotten no sleep last night and was yawning a lot, but she simply didn’t fall asleep—she never did in this state.

Maybe her mind was recharging? She remembered one time at a wedding party when she’d just felt mentally exhausted. For at least fifteen minutes, she barely reacted to anything and just wished to be left alone. Some guests even questioned why she wasn’t smiling, to which she gave just a fake smile before it immediately faded. But once she felt better, she could talk again with the others.

As she was staring at the ceiling, she heard her phone vibrate, signalling that she got new messages. Not in the mood to check them, she kept laying in her bed as her phone vibrated again and again. Surely Lavender and Fuchsia were writing in the group chat.

Time passed, and her phone stopped vibrating. Letting out a relieved sigh, she sat up, took from her shelf a set of locks and closed each of them. Afterwards, she took her lockpick and opened each lock one by one. The repeating process of feeling for the pins, setting them up correctly, and finally opening the lock relaxed her—strangely enough. Shouldn’t her mind be challenged as she picked the locks? Or was just one part of her mind in need for a rest?

Whatever the case was, once she was done picking each lock and not feeling exhausted anymore, she put the locks back on the shelf and reached for her phone, checking the messages she got.

There was nothing worth mentioning, as the sleepover and the breaking into school was discussed—Fuchsia even wanted to break into it again just to “see Celestia’s face when she sees us sleeping in the hallways.” Trixie could only shake her head as Fuchsia kept begging for Trixie to reply, wishing her to join in this idea.

But one message from Lavender got her attention, to which her jaw dropped. Apparently, Cloudy admitted to her parents what she had done and Celestia was already notified what had happened. Scratching her face, Trixie wondered why Cloudy did this. Was this to prove to Trixie how she wasn’t “evil”? Was this an attempt to get a lesser punishment? Or had Lavender talked to Cloudy and gotten her to admit it?

Whatever the reasons were, it meant that the case was finally closed and she wouldn’t get any more detention—as long as she remembered to watch out for the smoke detectors, of course.

Since Cloudy had admitted what she did, she had gotten the detention that Trixie would’ve got otherwise. However, Trixie’s image of performing her vanishing and reappearing trick was publically destroyed, so Trixie had to make sure that this part of her was put back in the right place.

That’s why when she found out that Blizzard was caught by the janitor, who’d even gone in on a Sunday to do it, she was enraged.

“What do you mean he’s back?” she shouted, stomping with her foot before the terrarium. “Trixie didn’t plan for this to happen yet!”

“Say what?” Rainbow asked. “Aren’t you glad he’s back?”

“No!” Trixie retorted. “He was supposed to be lured out by Fluttershy, while the Great and Powerful would tell before a crowd who actually ruined her trick!”

“Of course,” Rainbow muttered, her voice having an intonation Trixie didn’t care to decipher.

“Hm,” Trixie said, scratching her face, “we can still save Trixie’s reputation. Rainbow, put Blizzard back behind the lockers.”

“Sorry?” Rainbow sounded confused.

“You heard me correctly,” Trixie replied. “And call Fluttershy; she needs to call him back.”

“I’m not going to do that!” Rainbow retorted.

“Then Trixie has to—”

Rainbow walked in between Trixie and the terrarium. “And you especially should keep your hands off Blizzard. He had enough adventures with you!”

What adventures? All Blizzard had done was lay around and hide in dark spots; she’d hardly call that adventure. However, now was not the time to discuss these details.

“Step away!” Trixie demanded. “This is about the Great and Powerful Trixie’s repu—”

“Get out!” Rainbow yelled, pointing with her finger at the door.

“But—”

“Are you deaf? I said leave!”

Trixie squinted her eyes and stared at Rainbow’s forehead. This should intimidate her enough that Rainbow would withdraw from her position.

However, she could see from the corner of her eye how Rainbow crossed her arms and smirked. But this wouldn’t scare Trixie away, right?

Silence filled the room, as the—partially fake—eye contact was kept between them. Trixie focused on not looking away, but the longer it went on, the more difficult it became. Why were these standoffs always silent? Weren’t they more awkward this way? How could Rainbow keep her expression the same?

“Knock it off, Trixie. You won’t win against the awesome Rainbow Dash.”

Trixie grunted. How dare Rainbow use Trixie’s speech tactics? And why was there no nervousness in her voice? How didn’t she feel anxious in this moment, the fear of losing—or could Rainbow just hide it?

When the bell rang, signifying the first lesson, Trixie raised her head and turned on her heels, covering up her relief perfectly.

“And don’t even think about using him again for your tricks!” Rainbow shouted as Trixie left the room.

“No,” Fuchsia whispered to Trixie as the teacher turned to write on the blackboard.

“Please!” Trixie begged. “It’s about my, um, it’s about justice!”

“It’s not about justice,” Lavender responded.

“Okay, I admit it, it’s only partly about justice,” Trixie said. “But—”

“Do you want to get more detention?” Fuchsia added.

Trixie pressed her lips together, not knowing how to reply.

“Thought so.”

Trixie groaned silently and turned her gaze to her book before her. Sure, stealing Blizzard to hide him behind the lockers just so Trixie could announce publicly who actually ruined her performance was stupid, but…

There was no “but,” the plan was straight up stupid. Maybe she should come up with a different way to reveal who actually stole him?

It shouldn’t have surprised Trixie that, at certain times, she couldn’t read Lavender’s emotional state. Previously, she hadn’t been too bothered by it, but after learning how Lavender had felt, a certain fear of another misunderstanding had arisen.

And when Lavender didn’t immediately smile when she approached, and barely said anything over lunch, the thought of Trixie somehow treating her badly crept back up.

But how could she bring it up? If there was actually nothing, would Lavender see it as Trixie having doubts about their friendship or, worse, she might blame misreading her emotional state on Trixie’s Asperger’s?

With all these thoughts circling around her head, Trixie sighed. Why was everything so complicated and uncertain?

“Is there something wrong?” Lavender asked.

Trixie shook her head.

“Still thinking about stealing Blizzard?”

“No,” Trixie replied, looking to the side. “I was too frustrated to see how stupid that idea was.”

“But do you still want to expose my sister?”

Trixie turned her gaze to Lavender, analysing her face. With the lack of her smile, there were only subtle hints to what Lavender felt, and Trixie couldn’t interpret any of them. Was she supporting that idea? Was she criticising it?

“It’s all about what people think of my magic performances,” Trixie said carefully, examining how Lavender would react. “I don’t want anyone to think I failed a trick.”

Lavender only nodded—could she please react in any way that revealed more?

“And of course for what she did to me,” Trixie added. “Sure, she got my detention, but this doesn’t feel like enough.”

Raising her eyebrow, Lavender finally gave away some part of her emotion. “Not enough?”

“She wanted to make it look like I’d plant fake evidence just to save my performance!”

“Hm,” Lavender simply replied as she looked down to her plate.

Trixie sighed. “Look, I get it. She’s your sister, so you want to defend her by any means.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Lavender said. “She fed the doubts I had with you, she stole a living animal, she wanted to make you look awful in everyone’s eyes. She deserves every single week of detention.”

Trixie tilted her head. This reply genuinely surprised her, as Lavender was always too nice and defending anyone.

“However,” Lavender said, looking up to Trixie, “announcing her crime publicly won’t do anything except feed your ego. Everyone will hear this anyway in one way or another.”

There it was, Lavender taking the defending side. Even when it was aimed at her, Trixie liked this about Lavender.

“But then why wait?” Trixie asked. “What’s the difference between me telling it and others over the course of several days?”

“Do you wish that my sister would announce all the things you did to her?”

Trixie blinked. “But I did nothing wrong to her.”

“You punched her.”

“After she made fun of me for a whole day! And it all started because of Sunset!”

“But you still punched her,” Lavender replied, crossing her arms. “And remember why she stole Blizzard? What if she starts defending herself by telling how you treated me, how you’re a ‘bad’ friend just using me for your shows?”

“But I didn’t, and it was a misunderstanding,” Trixie said, looking to the side. She didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes, we both know that,” Lavender responded. “But will you defend yourself with why it happened, why you acted the way you do?”

Trixie widened her eyes, realising what Lavender meant. To Cloudy, her actions were justified, and Trixie didn’t want to reveal anything about herself to the public.

“So announcing her crime publicly is wrong?” Trixie asked.

“I don’t know,” Lavender replied. “But I can tell you how my sister will react, and I know you won’t be able to stand your ground without having to explain yourself.”

Trixie scratched her head, asking herself why she wouldn’t be able to stand, until she remembered what it meant and sighed. “Fine then; her getting detention is enough anyway.”

A loud bang from a tray being placed on their table emerged, making Trixie jerk in surprise.

“Remember when we broke into our school,” Fuchsia said, obviously not caring what the current topic was and sat down at their table. “We should absolutely do that again.”

“Please, no,” Lavender begged. “We barely got away with it. Celestia won’t excuse it another time!”

“That’s why it’ll be even more exciting!” Fuchsia replied. “Our only mistake was that we got caught by one security camera. If we take another route, we won’t be noticed for sure.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, weirded out by Fuchsia’s new obsession. Fuchsia even called her yesterday in the evening just to ask if Trixie was down to break into the school again, which Trixie had to deny—for now.

“But breaking in is a crime!” Lavender retorted.

“It’s only a crime if we get caught,” Fuchsia said.

“Which we will!”

“We won’t.”

“My phone!” A new voice interjected itself into their conversation.

Trixie looked at the direction of the scream to see a boy running into the cafeteria.

“Has anyone seen my phone?” he asked, panting heavily.

With the silence that followed, the boy sighed and was about to walk away, but Trixie stood up, yelling, “Stop!”

All eyes were on her. Taking a moment to get into her role, she took a firm stance.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie hasn’t seen your phone,”—she could see him roll his eyes—”but she and her equally Great and Powerful assistants shall search for who did the awful crime of stealing your phone!”

“It wasn’t stolen, I lost—”

“For know, students of Canterlot City,” Trixie continued, raising her fist in the air, “that the Detectives The Illusions will solve any crime, no matter how mysterious it is and no matter what danger shall await us!”

After she finished, one student applauded, to which several followed. Satisfied, Trixie bowed before her audience and sat back down.

“Detectives?” Lavender asked. “But we aren’t detectives.”

“Now we are,” Trixie replied with a grin. “And we make a great team for it, don’t you think?”

“Sure thing, Great and Powerful detective,” Fuchsia said. “But don’t leave the victim hanging. He’s still looking at you.”

“Oh, right.” Trixie chuckled nervously and stood up. “But you’re with me, are you?” she asked her friends.

“Count us in,” Fuchsia said, standing up too.

After a moment of consideration, Lavender smiled and nodded her head.