The Sky Above

Twilight cracked open an eye and glanced over at the window. Daylight, she thought sleepily to herself. Should get up. She curled instead into a yet tighter ball, warm and snug beneath the duvet. The air in the room was brisk, but tolerable, although she wasn’t looking forward to that dreadful minute between throwing aside the sheets and getting her boots and jacket back on.

Nevertheless.

She rolled quickly out of bed, shivering as she hurriedly dressed and made a mental note to pick up some warmer clothes. A quick look out the frost-rimed window showed a few people moving about in the early-morning glow.

Pulling her jacket close, she reared up to the top bunk and gave Rainbow a nudge. “Up you get, Dash.”

Rainbow stirred, blinking and frowning blearily. “Mmm,” she hummed, wiggling sleepily under the blankets. “Bit early, isn’t it?”

Twilight shook her head, despite that Rainbow had buried her head in the sheets. “Not really – we don’t know how long it’ll take to exhaust our leads on the sliver; plus, I think we could both do to find ourselves some warmer clothing.”

Rainbow’s head poked back out. “Would need to be cheap – not carrying it back down with us, are we?” It was spring, and felt like it down below.

“It’ll depend on how warm it is, I suppose?” Twilight shrugged. “We’ll find out; or we would, if you’d just get up.”

Rainbow appeared to mull things over for a moment before sighing and crawling out of bed. “Fiiine. Squirrel here yet?”

“She won’t be until after breakfast.” Twilight didn’t know what time it was yet, but by her guess they still had an hour or so. She scuffed the floor, feeling suddenly irritated – coordinating hadn’t been an issue before now, since they were all three always together, and she found she wasn’t enjoying having to wait.

Although it took some grumbling, Rainbow eventually managed to get dressed; then, it was just a matter of grabbing their gear, and off they went.

“So are we rekitting everything, or...?” Rainbow asked as they strode down the short hall to the central stairwell.

“Maybe?” Twilight hadn’t really thought about it. “I’m not opposed to it – I just don’t want to have to do it all over again once we leave. Let’s check out the shops first, then decide.”

“We can head to that market I found yesterday?” Rainbow said, suddenly bright-eyed. “Across the bridge? The one that I scouted out because I’m awesome?”

Twilight rolled her eyes fondly. “Sure. I’ll be certain to tell Squirrel to give you all the credit.”

Beside her, Rainbow’s smile slid off her face as quickly as it came. “It’s not fun bragging about dumb stuff with just the two of us, is it.”

Twilight shoulder-bumped her. “She’ll be here soon enough. Realistically speaking there’ll only be a couple weeks between Wanderbelle and us getting back to Sweet Apples, anyways, so we were always going to part.”

Rainbow bumped her back. “I know that, Twi – I’m not lonely, or anything. Heck, it was just the two of us from Sunrise to Cherry, wasn’t it? She’s just fun to tease.”

They paused to exchange a few words with an innkeeper busy with paperwork before stepping out into the atrium. The air was still, but frigid, with the two ponies’ breaths coming out in little puffs. Twilight had a sneaking suspicion that things were unseasonably cold right now, given how many of the shops they’d passed the day before looked like they could be open-fronted. “There’s a place just up ahead,” she said, bobbing her head towards a side tunnel branching off from a higher tier. “Looked like it did breakfast and lunch.”

“S’long as it’s hot, I’m happy.”

That was something Twilight could agree with.

The separate levels each had many different ramps and short staircases leading between them, often with a thin stream or patch of hardy plants alongside; the effect reminded her of the open gardens she’d found common in the few mountainside towns and cities – Canterlot chief among them – she’d been to back home.

The passage they soon found themselves venturing down was lined with homes either side; the walls and ceiling were irregular, so much so that some of the houses could even fit in a second floor, their windows peaking down at them from between the tunnel’s braces.

Twilight had been down here the day before, scouting around as best she could -- not that she expected to find anything, but she couldn’t get herself to just sit down somewhere and wait. So far as she was concerned, Squirrel couldn’t arrive soon enough.

“This is the place here,” Twilight said, nodding towards one of the many heavily-lintled doorways lining the way, recessed as it was into the stone. A helpful sign hung above it, bearing the restaurant’s name. “Let’s see what it’s like.”

The bell chimed on their way back out, not more than half an hour later. “Well that was decent,” Twilight said conversationally. “Not the best, I suppose – but decent.”

“Eggs weren’t right,” Rainbow grumbled. “I said ‘scrambled,’ not ‘omelette, but chopped up.’”

Twilight hummed vaguely in agreement: she’d heard this one before. “I wonder where they keep the chickens? Although... oh, nevermind – there’re little villages all over the valley, aren’t there.”

Rainbow continued her moue, even after Twilight directed her down a different passage than the one they’d come through. “We’ve still time before Squirrel gets back,” Twilight said as they made their way towards daylight. “There’s a nice view up ahead.”

“Storm’s broken,” Rainbow said, dropping her pout for a coy look instead. “I’m guessing... partly cloudy.”

“This fast? Not a chance,” Twilight insisted, playing along. “It wasn’t nearly windy enough last night.”

Rainbow just smirked and fluffed out her wings.

The passage narrowed briefly at a set of open doors – glowing heating blocks either side – before flaring back out, spilling them onto a wide, wooden walkway. From the looks of it it wound its way around the peak, as the gantry curved and disappeared either side; above them, casting them in shade, was another of the same.

“I imagine you scouted this out yesterday?” Twilight asked as they walked over to the railed edge, the trodden snow crunching softly underhoof. “Does it go all the way around? Because if it does, it’ll make getting around much easier.”

“Oh, sure – top to bottom, though it just turns into stairs or goes inside a bit sometimes,” Rainbow said, still grinning widely at her. “We can check it out later while enjoying how partly cloudy it is.”

Twilight sighed. She’d seen the weather out the corner of her eye, but was hoping she was just imagining things. “Yes. Well. So we shall.”

“Imagine doubting me,” Rainbow said, prodding her in the side.

“You’ll be wrong one day, Dash,” Twilight said, prodding her right back. “And then? Then, I’ll gloat.”

Rainbow still wore her cheshire grin. “Yuh huh. I’ll have to use my imagination for that.”

Twilight chuffed as she nudged her along the walkway. “Let’s just get moving.” She wasn’t as cold as she’d feared – the morning sun was surprisingly warm – but she knew she would be if she didn’t start walking.

There was a small but steady stream of people – mostly winged – moving alongside them, making Twilight suspect that these gantries served as the main paths even for locals. “How was flying yesterday, anyways? The weather seems to have grounded most of the folk here.” A quick glance over the rails showed that, indeed, there were very few up and flying about.

“Cold,” Rainbow said with a wry smile. “I can do it, mind you – I’d just rather not.”

Considering Twilight had seen icicles forming off the winter gear of some of the crazier pegasi back home, she didn’t doubt it – no one would add flight-speed winds to already frigid air unless they were desperate or just plain weird.

The walkway hooked sharply, weaving back into the cliff through another of the heated pseudo-gatehouses as it led into yet another of the peak’s winding halls. “This should make its way back to the inn,” Twilight said as they passed under a series of carved archways as thick around as her barrel. “Closer to the main bridge.”

“Didja get a chance to check it out, yesterday? I did a flyby and it looked... well, it looked like a bridge, to be honest.” Rainbow shrugged irreverantly. “Neat as bridges go, though.”

Twilight shook her head. “I was waiting until today, actually – I got the impression Squirrel wanted to show it off.”

“Of course,” Rainbow nodded sagely. “Just like anytime any of you guys are up in Cloudsdale that’s what I do, too – I show off our bridges.”

Twilight snorted. “I’m pretty sure you show off all the foreign food, actually.”

“Best part of growing up there.”

“There she is!” Rainbow called out as they rounded the final bend back to the inn. “Bridge-pony!”

Squirrel started, pivoting quickly to face them. “What?” she asked, a bemused smile on her face. “Also – hello! Sleep well?”

Rainbow shrugged noncommittally. “Okay, I guess.” Beside her, Twilight hurried up to give Squirrel a friendly shoulder-bump.

“Finally!” Twilight said, already turning back the way they’d come. “Let’s go! Rainbow says there’s a market over this way.”

“Which I totally scouted out entirely on my own,” Rainbow added. “I know this city like the back of my pastern, I do.”

“Uh huh,” Squirrel said, still looking bemused as she followed. “The Stile market. Don’t think we’re going to find a lead, there – it’s mostly food, clothes and knicknacks.”

“You’re out of touch – clothes are just what we need, miss thick-furred.”

Squirrel looked down at the thin jacket she was wearing. “I suppose it is a bit cool here.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ya think?”

“New jackets, some scarves, maybe hats,” Twilight chimed in helpfully. “We saved a lot of money working our way from Weld, so there seems little reason not to spend some of it now.”

“Helps that it’s not actually our money, either,” Rainbow added.

“That too.”

Squirrel took the lead, guiding them down much narrower and steeper passages and stairwells than they’d gone down before.

“So it’s straight to shopping then,” she said, her voice sounding high and tinny in the claustrophobic rift they were practically sidling through. “Any specific idea where to afterwards? I can think of a couple places, but never really had reason to know all the gemshops and suppliers here.”

“There’ll be jewelers or their ilk around,” Twilight insisted. “We’ll work something out.”

Their hooves clunked on the aged wood as they stepped out onto the bridge. At a full forty-feet wide and thrice that in length, with support beams running down both the sides and centre, Twilight could see why Squirrel had wanted them to see it.

“It’s best with the view,” Squirrel said happily, guiding them towards the rightmost side.

Icicles hung from the eaves above, dripping steadily over the edge; despite being outdoors, and with a breeze to boot, the air was fairly warm thanks to the line of heating blocks suspended in the rafters above. Twilight could make out carvings, woven chains and coloured bands wrapped around many of the beams, while decorative fret- and metalwork designs covered most every surface.

The three of them reared up and leaned against the low side wall; before them sprawled the glacial trough they’d come in over, dotted all the more clearly in the morning light with little clumps of buildings and terraces. Between the freshly fallen snow and the morning light, it looked quite spectacular.

“It looks lovely, Squirrel,” Twilight said. “I can see why you wanted us to see it.”

“Meh. Looks better from the air.”

Twilight poked her in the ribs. “Be nice, Dash. I was including the bridge itself in that.”

Squirrel, who had looked a touch put-out at first, perked back up. “Oh, yeah! See all the designs? They tell the stories of how things were back when the city was warring with the changelings. There,” she said, pointing to the near side, “is where everything started, the centre bit has the peace treaty, and the far bit’s all about the adventures of Kir and Twist. Great stuff,” she added with a pleased grin.

There was a lot there to unpack. “Kir and Twist?” Twilight ventured first.

“Pretty sure they were real,” Squirrel nodded, leaning her back against the guardrail. “The mountains around here were reeeally dangerous back then – that’s why we were fighting, but also why we stopped. Bunch of stories about the two of them fighting dragons and finding arcana in ancient grottos – fun stuff.”

“Really?” Rainbow asked with an interested look. “Any good books? I don’t mind the occasional one, if there’s a lot of action.”

While the two of them chatted, Twilight turned back to gaze out over the valley; it wasn’t the type of scenery she’d thought she’d be seeing scant weeks ago. Somewhere beyond the horizon lay Hurricanum, so many hundreds of miles away; despite the literal distance she was from the city, though, it didn’t feel that far off.

Perhaps because, no matter what, I’m always thousands of miles from home?

The sliver was probably a bust game – she’d always known that, really – but she couldn’t find herself regretting the extra trip.

“So whatever happened to them?” Rainbow asked, drawing Twilight’s attention back to the conversation.

“Well, some say they fell in love and got married, but I think – “

“No, no, no,” Rainbow said, cutting her off. “The changelings. Where’d they all go?”

Twilight turned back around fully to face the two of them – she was curious herself, given how just about everything changeling-related back home was pure myth and conjecture.

But Squirrel was giving them an odd look. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?”

Squirrel blinked slowly, nonplussed. “They’re... still here? I mean, we’ve met a few on the trip already.”

She was met with blank stares. “Wait,” Twilight said, finally finding her voice. “We have?”

“Well... yes? Are – wait, are ‘lings not a thing back in Equus?”

Twilight’s mind was running in overdrive, but she took care to stick to just one question at a time. “If they are, no one knows – not really.” She spoke slowly and hesitantly, distracted as she was trying to figure when they’d apparently bumped into a few. “There’s a lot of speculation, however.”

“Huh,” Squirrel said, still looking pleasantly bemused. “So we’ve got the ‘lings, and you’ve got the buffalo. Neat.”

Meanwhile, Rainbow’s tail had started to twitch. “Oh ho!” she grinned. “Hold on – I think I know who’s who.”

“Wait – really?” Twilight said, shooting her a surprised look – she knew Rainbow was in some respects a great deal more observant than her, but she didn’t think she was this much so.

“Oh, yeah,” Rainbow said, still smirking as she buffed a hoof unnecessarily against her jacket. “Super obvious, really.”

“It’s only polite,” Squirrel added, clearly enjoying the tease. “It’s not needed of course – but, polite.”

Twilight huffed and gave them both a telekinetic poke. “Spill!”

Rainbow snorted. “It’s the scarves thing, isn’t it? How they’re all green? ‘Cause I definitely noticed it was a bit weird so many random people were wearing them.”

“Yep,” Squirrel smiled with a bob of her head. “Some sort of green neckerchief is normal – like their magic, see?”

She started saying something else, but Twilight’s mind had practically ground to a halt. “Wait,” she spluttered. “Crest is a changeling!?”

“Figures you’d focus on that one,” Squirrel muttered with an amused huff. “I guess he technically mightn’t be, but as it’s... weird, I guess? To wear one if you’re not a ‘ling, I mean. So... probably, yes.” She scuffed the floor sheepishly. “I didn’t think you didn’t know.”

Twilight said something vaguely conciliatory, but she was still caught up in cataloguing every person they’d met so far, and there were a great deal with greenish neckbands.

She jumped slightly when she felt a poke in her side. “Hey,” Rainbow said softly. “Does it even matter? I mean, so what if the sire that sent us here is a changeling.”

“Are your stories about them bad in some way?” Squirrel added, now looking slightly worried.

“No, no,” Twilight said, hurrying to assuage her. “I’m just surprised – that’s all.” Surprise was an understatement; admittedly, it probably shouldn’t be – there was no reason changelings couldn’t both exist and be well-integrated here.

“Wait,” Rainbow said suddenly. “Wait, wait, wait – does that mean if one of them looks like me, they’ll be as fast as me? ‘Cause if so, that’s cheating.”

Squirrel snorted. “It’s mostly visual, I think? And their shape can change a little. I, uh, never really asked one before.”

Remembering Squirrel’s ignorance of many things basic to unicorns alone, Twilight didn’t doubt this. “Fair enough,” she said; eying Rainbow, she could see she held pretty much the same opinion. “Will this... help? I mean, the fact that it was a changeling that sent us here to find a tom?”

Squirrel gave her a friendly pat on the withers. “There’s no secret cabal of ‘lings, Sparkle: it doesn’t change anything.”

Twilight wilted. “I guess it does sound rather silly, huh.”

Squirrel just gave her another pat.

“Well anyways!” Twilight half-shouted as she fought down her blush. “This is a very nice bridge, Squirrel. Very nice.”

“Very wooden, yes,” Rainbow agreed, stepping over to give Twilight a pat of her own. “We’re get you through this somehow, Twi,” she added with a smirk.

Twilight grumbled as she slowly started to carry on down the bridge. “So, then – it’s all stories over this end?”

Squirrel snorted one last time as she and Rainbow hurried to join her. “Yeah. They won’t make much sense – the pictures, that is – if you don’t already know the tales, but the art’s pretty good either way.”

Twilight couldn’t argue with that.

Much as before, the bridge’s far side opened up into a wide, low-ceilinged alcove from which branched many paths and stairwells themselves squished between storefronts and workshops. “We’re going down from here,” Squirrel said as she directed the two to one of the many side corridors. It’d been more than a few years since she’d had cause to come down here, but despite the new shops and some woodwork she didn’t think was there before, she still remembered the way. “Just a level or two, depending on how you count it.”

The others nodded distractedly, still likely caught up in the accidental changeling revelation. It seemed bizarre to her that there wouldn’t be at least some ‘lings in quiet little hives throughout their continent, but perhaps they just never settled there?

The Stile market was a multi-tiered mess of wooden platforms, narrow, rickety staircases and cramped, over-stocked stores all built into what was once a great wyverns’ nest, long ago. Shardlight reflected off vitrified grooves and divots, while a steady breeze cut through the old entrances north and south; it was noisy and crowded.

“We’ll want to go nearer the bottom,” Squirrel said, calling slightly over her shoulder until the other two caught up, pressing close beside her. “Jackets and scarves, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Twilight nodded, looking overwhelmed as she cast her eyes about the veritable labyrinth.

“It’s only a maze if you don’t know the pattern,” Squirrel was quick to reassure her.

“Like the rest of this place,” Rainbow added.

“Exactly.”

One of the simplest ways to get around was just to use any of the floor-to-ceiling access wells scattered about the walls. The rigging swayed gently with every step as they descended the nearest, something that even experience hadn’t stopped Squirrel from getting spooked by; nevertheless, the sooner they were done, the sooner they were out.

“We’re here, I think?” Squirrel said as she stepped clumsily onto a floor that felt about right; behind her, Twilight hurried off, looking just as relieved.

“Isn’t there some other way back up?” she asked, glaring at the steps behind her.

“There’s always the outer ramps,” Squirrel said. “Actually, with some proper cold-weather gear that might just be the way.” She hated shopping here.

What followed was a great deal of searching and fussing – far more than she’d’ve thought the two of them capable of. “Spoiled for choice, eh?”

Rainbow tossed a thin beige scarf back onto its pile, ignoring the scandalized look from the cashier. “Well, why not? Might as well keep looking if we’ve got the time.”

“So you’re definitely keeping your old jacket, then? ‘Cause if so, just get another thin one to go overtop.”

“I guess,” Rainbow shrugged before heading over to join Twilight. Neither of them seemed particularly happy about any of this, but perhaps it was just the market? It was awfully loud here.

Eventually, they managed to settle on something nice. “It fits pretty well,” Twilight said as she minutely adjusted her scarf and overcoat. “Although the touque’s a bit pink for me.”

“Should’ve been like me and not gotten one,” Rainbow said. She’d been ruffling her wings around in their new loops for the last few minutes, muttering all the while that her own was too stiff. “Or maybe I should’ve? I’ll totally need to get my own changeling souvenir at some point, too.”

“The horn-gap’s not right,” Twilight muttered. “It’s too low.”

“Well, it wasn’t made for unicorns.”

They stepped out onto one of the outer ramps. As ever, a chill breeze blew across the peak; glancing at the other two, they seemed to be weathering the cold much better than before. “All good?”

Twilight smiled at her. “Much better.”

“Yep.”

“Great!” Squirrel said. “So... where next?”

“Lapidaries.”

“Naturally,” Squirrel drawled. “I suppose we can pick up some lunch a bit later. Rainbow?”

Rainbow gave her an odd look. “As if I’d turn down lunch.”

“No, I meant where’re the gem shops? You kind of said you were scouting around yesterday.”

“Oh! Right. Let’s see now...” Rainbow paced along the walkway, looking this way and that. “I got the impression this peak had some near the very bottom.”

“Ah,” Twilight sagged unhappily. “Not going to be nice, walking all the way back up.”

“It won’t be too steep if we just stick to the ramps,” Squirrel said. “Let’s get to it.”

The trip to the bottom was surprisingly pleasant, Twilight found. The touch of downhill backed by the constantly varied sights as they wove between mountain vistas, cramped side-passages, garden caverns and even past a lively schoolfront, made the whole thing rather enjoyable.

She was still dreading the inevitable walk back up, however.

“You can’t see them with all the snow,” Squirrel said, continuing her lecture. “But there’re several cobbled roads that run through the valley: most trade comes through these, rather than by air.” The mare seemed determined to play the tour guide now that she was somewhere familiar.

Twilight was doing her best to seem interested. “Where do they come from? Surely not all the way from Weld.”

“Oh no,” Squirrel said with a wave of her hoof. “There’re a lot of mining towns all over the range, and a bunch more besides on the southern rivers. Heck, last I heard most of the food we can’t grow here comes from the lakeside up north, ‘bout halfway to ‘Down.”

“Mmhmm.” She tried not to sigh.

“Oh thank goodness,” Rainbow muttered from the lead. “We’re here!”

Twilight rounded the stony bend to find herself facing a sort of open-sided warehouse. Built onto a single, great raised platform, with an angled roof supported by scaffolds, was what looked like one massive collection of forges, drop-hammers and metal-bending equipment, alongside so many other things she couldn’t guess the nature of.

“Never been down here before,” Squirrel said conversationally. “It’s kind of loud, isn’t it.”

Twilight flinched as the booming clang of a weight as large as she was resounded along the cliff face. “No kidding. Let’s be quick.”

Off to one side and built atop cleared areas of scree were a series of buildings, their lines descending towards the valley below. “You sure this is what we want, Dash?”

“I checked – they don’t look pretty, but they do sell; I think it’s just that they normally sell it to businesses or whatever.”

“Locals wouldn’t bother to buy raw ore or unprocessed gems,” Squirrel agreed. “The plan’s to name-drop Crest, I take it?”

Twilight nodded. “That seems simplest.”

“So no deal, huh.” Rainbow sagged against the dirty desk, tucked away as it was in the back of the shop.

The grey-feathered tom shrugged. “Slivers are hardly common; doubt anyone that had one would want to give it up just because you asked, either.”

Rainbow gave him another look. A smirk shone back at her from under his oversized ushanka; a faint hissing noise at ground level betrayed his swishing tail. He’s holding something back, Rainbow frowned as she thought quickly to herself. And he’s been teasing me just like Gilda would, which means... “But I’m sure a rakish tom like you wouldn’t hold back just because I’m a stranger, riiight?” she teased liltingly, fluffing out her wings as she gave her best attempt at doe eyes.

The tom barked in honest laughter. “Subtle,” he said, finally starting to relax.

“Yes, well,” Rainbow flushed, stammering. “Nevermind that. But you clearly know something about the sliver – I can tell that much, sooo... tell me please?” She resisted the urge to stamp and whine like a filly – she had a feeling he’d find it funny enough to open up some more, but she had some dignity.

“Already done flirting?” he grinned, shifting to rest his chin on a taloned palm. “Such as it was?”

Rainbow huffed. “Well I had to try something, didn’t I?” She flopped down limply on a nearby chair, sending little puffs of dust flying. “I know – I suck at it. Seriously though, do you know anything about this sliver thingy? Some ‘ling over in Drizzle pointed us over here, and it’s been a heckuva trip.”

The tom leaned forwards, looking interested for the first time. “Drizzle, eh? Sounds like Crest.”

Rainbow’s ears perked as she shot back up. “You know him?”

He shrugged. “Done business with him, sure – a little, not much. Haven’t heard anything about this, though.”

Rainbow wilted back into her seat. “Oh.”

“Tell you what,” the tom sighed. “You seem nice. And weird.” He drummed his talons on the desk. “Mostly weird. There’s an odds and ends shop up near the Cast drydocks; can’t say they’ll have anything, but I do know Crest’s gone through them a few times for rare items. They might have what you’re looking for.”

Rainbow leapt right back up. “Awesome – thanks! I’ll head out right away and leave you to your... whatever it is you’re doing.” She was already heading to the door even as the tom rolled his eyes and made shooing motions with his claws.

She blinked as she stepped back out into daylight, leaving the gloomy interior behind. The street was muddy and rutted, with deep drifts of brown slush built up on the banks. “This way, I think,” Rainbow muttered to herself as she set off down the road; the three of them had split up, looking to cover as much ground as possible.

A shower of sparks spilled out of a corner workshop, the little pinpricks of light dancing across the polished stone and out into the muck; coarse shouting rang out after them. She trotted across the street, her ears twitching and folding against the squealing, screeching onslaught of zephyric cutters pouring out of bay doors across the way. She had no idea how anybody managed to work in places like that without going deaf and had more than half a mind to take to circling well above until the other two showed themselves when she spied a splash of lavender down an alley.

“There you are,” Rainbow called out as she hurried towards Twilight, glad that she was able to make her out despite how heavily dressed she was. “Find anything?”

Twilight strode out to meet her, frowning. “A headache, mostly,” she said, glaring at the many workers around. “How are they not deaf?”

Rainbow snorted. “Maybe they are? My tom said there’s a shop up near the top of Cast that we should ask around at.”

“Oh!” Twilight said, smiling now even as she flinched from the newest battery of sounds. “Great! Let’s find Squirrel and get the heck out of here.”

It only took a bit of poking around to find the mare chatting away with some off-duty workers. “Squirrel!” Twilight called out once they were near. “Find anything?”

Squirrel glanced over at them with a shrug. “Pettle here thinks we might have more luck at the traveller’s atrium, and I’m inclined to believe her.”

“That’s two spots, then; we should get going,” Twilight said, flinching once again as a heavy clang rang out around them.

Squirrel nodded cheerfully enough and waved goodbye to the machinists; it was blessedly soon, then, that they were ascending the long outer ramps once again.

“That,” Rainbow said, worried she might be shouting without even realising it, “was waaay too noisy.”

“Yes. Yes it was,” Squirrel agreed. “I always figured it’d be – the sounds can echo all the way to the peak if the wind’s right – but geez, yeah, that was bad.”

“At least we got something out of it,” Twilight said. “The traveller’s atrium and a curios shop up Cast.”

“Oh! Is that what you found out, then?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded. “Supposed to’ve done business with Crest at some point – the tom I was talking to said they might be able to help.”

“We’ve a plan, then.”

Twilight strode at the rear of the group, preferring to let the others push through the cannon-deep snow first. They were somewhere near the top of Cast; despite being the shortest of the peaks, it was still a tiring trek all the way up this far.

While the noise and clamour of the workshops had faded behind them some turns ago, a new irritant was building – that of the constant grinding and hammering of the drydocks. “And you’re certain it’s not as bad?”

“Yes, Twi,” Rainbow huffed, looking back at her just long enough to roll her eyes. “It’s all normal-volume stuff; if your ears are ringing, it’s from before.”

Twilight grumbled – her ears were still ringing, and it was more than half distracting; a rainbow tail-flick across the muzzle didn’t help, either.

“Cheer up, Twi,” Rainbow said, not looking at all bothered by her scowl. “We’ll find some lunch first.”

Twilight quietly hated that she did feel cheered up by that.

The passages up here – across this whole peak, really – were far more open and airy than the others: stone floors as often went straight as crooked or ran over short bridges revealing other floors above and below; great, mirror-bounced shafts of sunlight would light cozy alcoves or just plain stone, while the near omnipresent crowds had a relaxed feel to them that reminded her of home.

It was little later that saw Rainbow directing them towards a tiny ten-seater restaurant sitting on the corner of an oddly-shaped intersection. ‘Too small to serve anyone but the neighbours,’ Rainbow had said. ‘So if it sucks, it would’ve gone outta business by now.’ There was enough logic to that that, despite its somewhat decrepit appearance, Twilight was willing to give it a try.

They settled down on a triplet of barstools – the restaurant was really just an L-shaped bar looking out into the street – and started looking over the brightly-lit hanging menus. “So,” Squirrel said. “I’m pretty sure it’s all industry after another floor or so up, so the curios place has got to be around here somewhere close.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Then we ask around.”

“That’s what I meant.”

The fare was quick, fast-fried stuff – all noodles and vegetables and strips of meat. While none of them cared to try the latter, the food was otherwise quite nice.

“Good call, Rainbow,” Squirrel said as she unabashedly licked her bowl clean. “Very good.”

Twilight side-eyed the mare disapprovingly. “Yes – agreed.”

Rainbow smiled as she gave her empty bowl a spin, the ceramic clattering on the wooden bartop. “Awesome! Sliver time, then.”

The cook – who was not wearing a green neckerchief, as Twilight found she’d unconsciously checked for – seemed to know what they were looking for, having directed them towards the far face, and while it might end up being a dud, it still felt good to have direction.

“Alright,” Squirrel said once they’d seemed to be nearing their destination. “We should play this one cool – only look a little interested in a ‘we thought it sounded neat, but only if it’s not too much’ kind of way.”

“But what if we offend them?” Twilight countered, having intended to, essentially, just pay whatever they wanted if it got them the sliver. “They might not want to deal with us.”

“They wouldn’t be much of a shopkeep if they were offended that easily.”

Twilight frowned, but kept her peace – she knew she was lousy when it came to haggling, so she’d have to trust them to take the lead and do it well.

As they neared the far side the light changed from the clean whites of shards and sunlight to colours of many hues: ahead, fully two-stories tall, was a bank of stained-glass windows mounted in elaborate wrought-iron casings; the afternoon sun shone through, if only just.

The windows appeared to be depicting miners – gnolls and pyre dragons alike – working the mountains alongside ponies and gryphons tending fields and rivers; behind, the three peaks of Snowbound rose prominently in front of a rising sun.

“Well, he didn’t mention this,” Twilight said, stepping close to admire the details. “Squirrel?”

Squirrel shrugged, her gaze locked on the work herself. “Haven’t seen this one since I was a filly, with it being so far out of the way. There’re a few pretty sights like this, scattered all about. Something about not being a tourist town, I think – you don’t need to cluster all the artistic things together for easy sightseeing.”

“Curios down this way,” Rainbow said, interrupting the two of them. “Can see a bit of a sign.”

Squirrel gave a pleased nod. “Oh good – we’ve found it.”

Twilight turned away from the glass to follow the other two down the cliffside hall. A few shops littered the inner side with their overflow stacked up against the outer, itself now covered in thick, insulated windows at odd intervals. Their signs hung out over the hallway on thin chains; thrift stores, from the looks of it, but one of them seemed to be the one they sought.

“’Westside Curios and Bargains,’” Twilight read aloud. “I suppose it’s serviceable, as names go.” Their merchandise looked as varied as the name suggested, and almost entirely mundane to boot. “We sure this is the right place?”

“Only one way to find out,” Rainbow said as she led the way in.

The place smelled dry and musty as they squeezed between racks and shelves. Sidling past a lumpy pile of sweaters they emerged next to what was quite possibly a counter, hidden somewhere beneath the myriad pots and pans stacked atop. “Hello?” Rainbow called out towards the backroom. “Anyone there?”

While she and Squirrel were busy rapping their hooves politely on the counter, Twilight sidled over to a stack of old, dry books, their spines cracked and peeling. A glance at their bindings revealed textbooks, far older than she, on subjects now grossly outmoded. “’Quantitative Forecasting,’” she muttered to herself. “’Rynn’s Works on Tri-set Crosspieces.’” She clucked her tongue. “Out of date.”

“That’s probably why they’re here,” Squirrel said, having wandered over to join her. “’Out of date’ doesn’t mean useless, either, mind you.”

Twilight clucked her tongue. “I suppose so...” she trailed off vaguely. “It’s still not very scholarly.”

Squirrel just shrugged.

There was a hurried tapping of claws on wood as a diminuitive hen appeared at the entrance only to just as quickly hurry down one of the aisles, reappearing again behind the counter. “I’m sorry about that!” she said with a worried look. “I’d just popped by next door – it’s been quiet all day and, well...”

“It’s fine,” Rainbow said, waving her off. “But hey, we were wondering if you could help us.”

While Rainbow talked, Twilight found her eyes drawn to the dark green shemagh around the hen’s neck. She found herself bizarrely put off all of the sudden, a thought which left her feeling almost... embarrassed: of what consequence should it be that she was actually a changeling?

A sudden nudge jolted her out of her reverie. “Hey,” Rainbow said, giving her another poke. “You can’t be that tired, Twi.”

Twilight blinked and gave her head a shake, doing her utmost to clear the frown from her face. “Sorry – zoned out there.”

“No kidding,” Rainbow said, still giving her a worried look. “Keen here needs a little more info on this sliver.”

“Ah, yes,” the hen – Keen – said nervously. “I’m not really familiar with that name specifically, but I do think it sounds familiar – maybe it’s called something different to me? In my catalogues, I mean.”

Twilight nodded, taking care to look the cashier in her eyes as she spoke. “It’s mana made manifest; they form sometimes at grand leylines. It’ll look a lot like clouded quartz, but should be phenomenally dense, magically.” Before she’d even finished speaking, the hen had started smiling and rubbing her beak sheepishly.

“Yes, I know it – should’ve right away, really, once you mentioned Crest. He’d asked for a talon of Cos, but they’re the same thing, aren’t they.”

“Gryphon hero,” Squirrel added for their benefit. “Some fun legends there.”

Keen nodded vigourously. “Yes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a hold of it – there were some... problems, I was told.”

“Problems?” Rainbow asked as she leaned over the counter to give the hen a poke. “Don’t leave us hanging!”

“Well I don’t know specifically,” Keen said, swatting away Rainbow’s hoof. “It was coming from up in ‘Down, but the shipment of this-and-that I had coming in just said they couldn’t get their hooves on it; since it was so time-sensitive for Crest I didn’t ask them to keep trying, and my boss didn’t, either.”

“Could it still be up there?” Twilight asked. “That is, if we went up there, do you think it likely they’ll have it?”

Keen shrugged. “Don’t know – really depends on just how they weren’t able to get it for me.”