A Great and Powerful Heartby Deep PondChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 1Chapter 1 Trixie was still not sure how she had gotten into this situation. It had started as just another show in another tiny town, this one named Promise. She didn't like to dwell on it, but she preferred small towns these days . . . they were more receptive to her talents, more interested in flash and spectacle, and easier to impress. Less likely to be caught up with the latest gossip from Ponyville. The show had been dismal, even by her reduced standards. Normally, her wagon – smaller and scruffier than her old one, but still brightly-painted – attracted attention as she rolled into town, assuring her of at least a moderate crowd. Her fireworks and patter drew more ponies, and after getting them hooked with a few simple tricks, she issued her usual challenge: anything anypony could do, she could best. Inevitably, a few locals with delusions of grandeur would take her offer, but Trixie had been handling such glory-hounds for years, and rare was the one she couldn't humiliate. Play up the crowd, a few more tricks, and collect her bits. A time-tested pattern. Except that Promise didn't follow the pattern. Oh, she attracted attention, but it wasn't excitement or even curiosity . . . it was more like disdain and condescension. Earth ponies were usually the easiest marks for Trixie's show; having no natural magic of their own, they were more appreciative of her flash and glamour. Although Promise was full of earth ponies – she didn't notice any pegasi or unicorns, in fact – they seemed remarkably indifferent to the prospect of a magic show. The gathered crowd was sparse, but Trixie gave them her best efforts regardless. Conjuring, fireworks, illusions, levitation, all the usual elements of her performance. This produced halfhearted applause at best, and some conspicuous looks of disdain. Even her challenge – to best anypony present at whatever stunt they cared to try – did not get one single taker. She had just about decided to end the show early, when the local law appeared. A gangly, self-important young pony with a flute cutie mark lead the way, followed by a heavyset brown stallion to whom the crowd deferred. The introduced themselves as Deputy Flute and the sheriff, and promptly arrested her – exactly what for, Trixie was not certain. Something about her magic show, though the screaming match she and Flute had gotten into made it hard to be certain. The sheriff took matters in hoof, bundling her off to jail without so much as giving her a chance to take off her hat. Trixie considered fighting, but a glance at the crowd dispelled that notion – the satisfaction on their faces convinced her that they would take great delight in holding her for the sheriff, even if she managed to slip his grasp. With bad grace she acceded to the inevitable, and soon found herself in a small, clean cell. She fell asleep on the thin pallet, brooding over the unfairness of the world. The door opened, and the sheriff himself ambled in, a heavy brown earth pony with a jet-black mane and tail, and a cutie mark of three brass shields. Brass, she'd heard him called, but she didn't know if that was a first or last name. She glared at him through the bars. “What is the meaning of this? Why has Trixie been thrown into this wretched place?” The sheriff walked over to Trixie's cell and regarded her in silence for a moment. “Trixie, that's your name, right?” he said, his voice deep with a country accent. “That is correct,” Trixie replied. “And Trixie is still waiting for an explanation, Sheriff Brass.” “Well, Miss Trixie,” Brass said, “seems your paperwork isn't quite in order. Y'see, traveling shows have to have certain papers and permits to operate in Equestria.” “Trixie has the permits,” she snapped. “Trixie showed them to your . . . deputy last night. Signed in Canterlot itself.” “Funny thing about those permits,” Brass said casually. “They're legit, sure enough, and signed in Canterlot like you said. And they're good for anywhere within a hundred miles of Canterlot. Unfortunately, Promise happens to be close on a hundred-fifty miles away from the capital.” Trixie stared in disbelief. “You're joking,” she said after several seconds passed. “You must be.” “ 'Fraid not,” said Brass. “So that's putting on a show without a license . . . trespassing . . .” “Trespassing?” Trixie demanded. “It's the town common! The entire purpose of it is to be open to the public!” The sheriff nodded. “Provided they have the proper permits, of course. And then there's the matter of the children.” “What?!” “ 'Contributing to the delinquency of minor foals,' is the official terminology,” Sheriff Brass elaborated. “Means you were seen talking to some local foals, convincing them to do things for you.” “They asked about Trixie's show,” Trixie said in a stiff voice. “Trixie asked them about your town. Trixie asked them to get her a snack.” The sheriff nodded understandingly. “And I'm sure you didn't mean any harm by it, but the law's the law. And then there's –” “Let us cut to the chase,” interrupted Trixie. “Trixie presumes there are fines associated with all of these . . . offenses. What would they come to, Sheriff?” Mentally, the unicorn ran down the list of her finances. They were at a low ebb, but she could probably scrape together fifty bits or so and not be entirely destitute . . . Sheriff Brass named a figure. Trixie stared in shock. “You're joking.” “ 'Fraid not.” “Trixie doesn't have that kind of money!” “Then,” Brass sighed, “it looks like you're going to be staying with us for quite a while, young mare.” The brown earth pony turned and ambled towards the door, apparently finished with the conversation, as Trixie's mind spun. This can't be happening . . . Trixie can't be thrown in jail in some puny earth pony town just like that, locked up for Celestia only knows how many months, all on some fat sheriff's say-so. It's absurd. Ridiculous. At the doorway, the sheriff paused and eyed Trixie over his shoulder. “Of course,” he said thoughtfully, “as sheriff, I do have a certain amount of influence. On sentences, for instance.” Trixie was silent. “For example,” he went on, “if a young mare who'd gotten in trouble with the law – out of ignorance, not meanness – were to agree to take on a little job on behalf of the town, I could probably get her sentence reduced, or even commuted. And if she did well at the job, I might even be able to justify paying her.” Trixie's eyes narrowed. “What sort of job are you talking about?” “Nothing too complicated. Seems we've got a runaway . . . a colt. Now, we're all homebodies here in Promise, and busy to boot. But you're a traveler, living on the road, and you're not local. You'd pick up on things the rest of us might miss.” “You want Trixie to find a runaway colt?” Trixie repeated, not sure she was hearing correctly. “And if Trixie is successful, you'll drop these ridiculous charges?” “Something like that, yes,” Brass said, turning back towards the unicorn. “Find out what happened to him, where he went and why, and we'll call it even as far as the fines. Bring him back, and there'll be a few bits in it for you.” “It seems that Trixie does not have much of a choice.” The sheriff responded with a broad, insincere grin. “His name's Jasper,” Sheriff Brass was saying as the two of them walked. “Little fella, about so big.” He held a hoof off the ground. “He's a brownish-red color with a purple mane and big yellow eyes. Last seen on the western side of town, couple days ago.” “Mmm,” Trixie said noncommittally. “Does this Jasper have any family or friends whom Trixie might speak with? Somepony who would know him, and could suggest where he might have gone to?” “Afraid not,” Brass answered. “The colt's an orphan; his mama died not long ago.” The earth pony opened his mouth as if to continue, then closed it again. Trixie waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent. They walked on quietly for a time. “I should warn you, Miss Trixie,” Brass said after a moment, “that if you go too far west, you'll run into Dusky Dale, and that's a dangerous place. The plants and animals run wild there, and there's supposed to be monsters living in it. We stay out of there.” “Dusky Dale,” Trixie repeated. “And if Trixie finds that Jasper has gone into this Dusky Dale, what is she to do?” Sheriff Brass sighed heavily. “If he's gone into the Dale, he's not coming out again,” he said soberly. Trixie stopped and stared at him. “Just like that?” she demanded. “You're not even going to make an effort to look?” “No I'm not, and you shouldn't either. I'm not risking any lives on that – on a lost cause. You're a traveler, miss, you should have some idea how dangerous the wild lands can be. If he's in there, the colt won't be the first pony lost in Dusky Dale.” “Fine,” Trixie snapped. “Trixie will look for your missing colt. Now, where is Trixie's wagon?” “Ah, not so fast, miss,” said Brass, raising a hoof. “I think we're just going to hold onto that, for . . . security. Besides, you won't be able to look for a foal while hauling a wagon around.” Trixie ground her teeth, but did not argue. She still had her hat and cape – nopony had tried to take those, and she wasn't about to give them the opportunity – which had a few little surprises here and there. Besides, much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Sheriff Brass lead Trixie to the gate on the north side of town and gestured to the west. “That's where the colt was last seen.” He waited. Trixie stared at the sheriff in frank astonishment. Brass looked blandly back. Really? the unicorn thought, this pony is a sheriff? Ugh. Fine, let's get this over with. With a swirl of her star-spangled cape she turned away from the other pony, marching down the muddy trail without another word. As the wooden walls of Promise disappeared around a bend in the road, Trixie gave serious thought to continuing west and not turning back. She would forfeit her wagon, true, but she'd recovered from worse setbacks. After all, she was the Great and Powerful Trixie! It would be pleasant to never have to see this benighted earth pony burg again, or its fat and incompetent sheriff. But she had her pride to consider. She had agreed to this job, however unwillingly, and the Great and Powerful Trixie did not go back on her word. Much as she was loath to admit it, if Brass did offer her payment for this farce of a job . . . she would probably take it. She was not destitute, but the life of a traveling magician was never one of wealth and ease, especially one with her reputation. Then, too, there was the matter of the colt himself. Trixie knew she was not the nicest of ponies, but the idea of leaving a foal in danger grated on her sensibilities. Besides, with her powers, it would be foal's play to find one lost colt. She would bring the little urchin back to town, reclaim her belongings, and enjoy the look on Brass's face. Yes. That was exactly how it would all work out. The Great and Powerful Trixie had decided it. Three hours later, the Great and Powerful Trixie had just about had it. After a slow start, she had managed to use magic to help her – a minor spell she'd learned as a filly, used for finding lost objects, had been subtly altered to find hoofprints. After some practice, Trixie was able to use it to find only hoofprints of a certain size, and was pleased to locate some immediately – small ones, foal-sized, in the road. The recent rains had left the road muddy and the ground soft, making Trixie's job easier. She was considerably less pleased to discover that they ranged back and forth across the road, now up among the rocks on the north side, now through the trees to the south, now doubling back down the road. This forced her to follow a slow, weaving course lest she miss some clue or some point where the prints left the obvious track. There also seemed to be too many hoofprints. Trixie was no tracker, but she could count, and there were at least two sets of prints traveling mostly parallel with each other – except when they crossed, doubled back, or joined into a confused muddle. Two foals? Brass hadn't mentioned that. Then again, Trixie imagined she could fill a few books with things Brass hadn't mentioned. The finding spell wasn't particularly taxing, but maintaining it for hours proved to be more of a strain that Trixie had anticipated. She was developing a headache, but was reluctant to either take a break or risk losing the trail. Another hour of searching and her headache had become a full-blown reality, but she had reached the end of the trail. So, Trixie guesses this must be Dusky Dale. The valley spread out before her, extending from northeast to southwest and forcing the road to turn south as it followed the valley edge. More than a mile wide by Trixie's guess, Dusky Dale was heavily wooded, with tall, dense forest blocking all view of the ground. Under those trees, she guessed, it would indeed be dim and dusky. The trees below rippled in a gust of wind, and Trixie shivered. Like the Everfree Forest away near Ponyville, Dusky Dale was clearly a wildland, a place where the normal laws of nature did not hold sway, where the weather formed without the aid of pegasus ponies, and where the animals were feral and untamed. This was not good. The trail of the foals had lead down the road for the last mile, in a more-or-less straight line – Trixie was now convinced that there were two foals – and right to the edge of Dusky Dale. There it stopped, and no more hoofprints were detectable to Trixie's magic. Instead, there was a huge mass of raw earth extending down into the valley, where a landslide had ripped away great slabs of mud. Trixie guessed the ground must have been weakened by the recent rains. The trail of the two foals lead directly into the center of the landslide and vanished. Trixie stared down into Dusky Dale, irrationally frustrated. She had done exactly what Sheriff Brass had asked of her: she had found the track of young Jasper (and whoever the mystery foal was) and followed it. As Brass had hinted, it lead into the Dale. Case closed. Jasper was lost, Trixie was free, and that was the end of it. Wasn't it? Trixie closed her eyes in frustration. Yes. That's it. Trixie is getting out of this place before Brass thinks of more “jobs” that he doesn't feel like doing. But if this was a success, why did it feel like failure? With dragging steps, she turned and headed back towards Promise. Chapter 2Chapter 2 The road heading east of Promise was broad and flat, and despite having come this way a day before, had never looked better to Trixie. True to his word – and to her mild surprise – Sheriff Brass had accepted her word as to the fate of the colt, turned over her wagon, and even given her a small pouch of bits as payment. Wasting no time, Trixie had slipped into her harness and headed east, determined to put Promise behind her as quickly as possible. She was perhaps a mile down the road before it even occurred to her to think of where she was heading. Hmm . . . the next town is Bridledown, which sits on a crossroads . . . The hollow feeling in her middle made Bridledown much more appealing than it might have been otherwise; Trixie had been planning to purchase supplies in Promise. Yes, Trixie will pick up some food there, then head south to Hoofsborough; she hasn't been there in a few years. The countryside should be safe this time of year . . . . . .who was that second foal? And what possessed them to head into a wildland? Trixie shook her head vigorously. That was over, and she wasn't going back. The fate of two foals she had never even seen wasn't her concern. Let Brass worry about it. Yeah. That's likely. That lazy excuse for a . . . Whatever. It's not Trixie's problem any more. Trixie was so engrossed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the other pony until she was almost upon her. By the side of the road was a pegasus mare, gray, with a blonde mane and tail and a cutie mark of several bubbles. She sat beneath a large pine tree in a dejected pose, and her amber eyes – oddly crossed – were filled with tears. She was such a picture of abject misery that it was almost funny – a parody of sadness. Trixie eyed the pegasus, slowing her pace, but the mare paid her no attention at all. Instead, she stared at the ground before her hooves, tears dripping from her muzzle. At her side, Trixie noticed a set of saddlebags. The pegasus mare drew a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out gustily. Trixie came to a halt, her curiosity battling with her pragmatism. After another moment – during which the pegasus continued to ignore her – she spoke up. “What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?” The gray mare looked up . . . at least, sort of. One eye focused on Trixie, while the other seemed to be staring at a spot several yards to the left. In a voice thick with tears, the mare said “I've lost my muffin.” “Your . . . muffin?” “My little muffin.” Trixie blinked. “Trixie . . . is not sure she understands. You've lost a muffin?” “Not a muffin!” the pegasus said insistently. “My muffin! My little Dinky!” “Dinky? . . . Oh. Is that a pony?” The pegasus nodded, sniffing loudly. “My little Dinky, the best filly in the wole hurld.” “The wole . . . the whole world?” Again she nodded. Trixie does not need this. Trixie does not need this. Trixie does not need this. “How did you . . . come to lose Dinky?” “I don't know!” the other burst out. “She said she had a new friend, and they were playing together, and she never came back! She's usually such a sensible little muffin, too.” A new friend? . . . Oh Celestia, no . . . it can't be . . . “And the sheriff, Beriff Shass, he said he couldn't help because he was too busy taking care of the town to help outsiders, and besides it was p-probably my own f-fault for not t-taking better c-care –” The pegasus buried her face in her hooves, seeming on the verge of breaking down completely. Trixie closed her eyes, caught between frustration and disgust. Sheriff Brass, Trixie is really starting to loathe you. Aloud, she said “Look . . . stop crying. It will be all right. Trixie will –” She paused. What was she doing? This wasn't her problem; in fact, she had just managed to escape this problem. She had no intention of wasting her time with this walleyed wonder, and even less desire to spend any longer in the vicinity of Promise. Somepony else would have to help this mare find her missing filly. Her missing filly. Damn it. “Trixie will help you find Dinky.” As she spoke, Trixie slipped loose from the harness of her wagon. “She will?” “Yes. Finding a runaway filly will be mere foal's play for the Great and Powerful Trixie.” The pegasus looked around as if expecting somepony to appear out of thin air. “Where is she?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “No, you silly – me! I am Trixie!” Unable to resist, she hoofed a bit of glitter dust from one of the many small pockets sewn into the inside of her cape; with a dramatic gesture, she swept it through the air. The dust glittered and sparkled as Trixie struck a pose, eyes closed, head high and angled just so. “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria!” “Ooooooooooo!” The pegasus mare's eyes widened with amazement, although they continued to point in two different directions, her sorrow momentarily forgotten. “I'm Derpy!” “Derpy? “Derpy Hooves. I'm a mailmare.” The blonde pegasus pointed to her saddlebags, and Trixie noticed an emblem on the side: a winged envelope. “Always get your letters through. That's why we're here: special delivery. It took me three days to find the address.” Trixie can believe it. She seemed friendly and harmless, but so far Trixie was underwhelmed by her new companion. Her stomach gurgled, reminding Trixie of more immediate concerns. “For now,” she said, “Trixie needs food.” She glanced reluctantly back in the direction of Promise; she hated the idea of going back there, but it would take at least a day to reach Bridledown, and her supplies were at a low ebb. Pine cones . . . ugh . . . “I have food!” Derpy exclaimed excitedly. Flipping open one of her saddlebags, she upended it, dumping its contents onto the ground. Trixie blinked, seeing not just letters – the obvious thing to find in a mailmare's saddlebags – but also several pair of socks, a number of muffins, several apples, a multi-colored scarf, a cabbage . . . “How do you happen to be traveling with all this?” she inquired, poking at what turned out to be a pot of butter. “I emptied Carrot Top's fridge.” “Who is – never mind. Trixie will have a muffin.” “No! That's my muffin!” “It's Trixie's muffin now!” Chapter 3Chapter 3 Dusky Dale looked no more inviting in the light of early afternoon than it had that morning. Trixie stood at the top of the landslide where she had lost the trail that morning, regarding the valley soberly. The muddy area sloped down at an angle that looked uncomfortably steep, but not impassable. Below, the ground grew rocky for a space before disappearing under the dense trees. Trixie guessed she could make the descent if she was careful – she was fairly agile, and years of pulling her wagon had kept her in good physical condition. She shuddered at the thought of muddying her polished blue hooves, or even the hem of her lavender cape, but mud washed off. Derpy can just fly over it, she thought with a touch of envy, turning to glance at the pegasus. Derpy looked back at her, while simultaneously gazing out over the Dale. Trixie rolled her own eyes. No sense in delaying it. Trixie had parked her wagon in a copse of trees a ways back, hoping to avoid any attention from the earth ponies of Promise. Her horn glowed sky-blue as she adjusted her hat and cape and brushed back her pale hair. She took a deep breath and started down the slope. The going was treacherous, as the ground was a jumbled mix of mud and rock and gaping holes. Trixie gave careful attention to the placement of each hoof, trying to avoid the worst of the muck. Several yards down, a clatter of hooves drew her attention back up-slope: Derpy was following her on hoof. Why doesn't she just fly? Trixie wondered, then dismissed the question as unimportant. Who knew why Derpy did anything? Step by careful step, the two mares made their way down the slide. Trixie's legs were soon muddy past the fetlocks, from splatters and from seemingly-solid ground that gave way like pudding under questing hooves. She was also forced to detour around a number of large holes, big enough for two or three ponies to walk down side-by-side, that angled back into the hillside. Derpy fared little better, though the gray pony seemed cheerfully unbothered by the mud. Something about the holes made her very uneasy, but she couldn't quite place it. Not important, she told herself. Let's just get out of here. She turned back to urge Derpy to move faster. Derpy had found one of the holes and was currently leaning out over it, her head poked into the opening. “Muffin!” she yelled as Trixie stared in disbelief. “What are you doing?!” Trixie demanded in a cross between a whisper and a shout. Into her mind came the conviction, sudden and unquestionable that the holes were very dangerous. “You cross-eyed – stop that!” Derpy ignored her. “Dinky! Are you in there! Come out, my little muffin!” she called. Trixie took a step towards Derpy, who chose that moment to lift her head out of the hole and look down the slope at the unicorn. “I don't think she's in there,” Derpy said sadly. The ground exploded. Trixie was conscious of a huge, serpentine body, burgundy in color; a long-jawed mouth large enough to swallow her wagon and filled with sharp teeth; a yellow eye the size of her entire head. She was screaming, and Derpy was screaming, and somehow she found solid ground under her hooves and she was running as hard as she could. Quarray eels. The name came into Trixie's mind, and suddenly she remembered hearing stories of the dreadful creatures. The ground rumbled under her hooves, and a geyser of dirt erupted from a hole not three yards away. She shied, dirt clods bouncing off her head and back, and spun wildly in place. Where was a safe path? Where was Derpy? The gray pegasus rose into view, flying strongly, heading down the slope. Oh sure, now she decides to fly, Trixie thought irrationally. A quarray eel burst out of a hole below Derpy, long jaws agape. Trixie felt her heart lurch, but Derpy tumbled sideways in a sort of combination of pirouette and controlled fall, and the snakelike monster's teeth slammed shut on air. Trixie turned and sprinted down the slide, leaping recklessly over stones, plowing through mud without a care. She saw a hole ahead and to her left and veered right. She could see solid ground ahead – she was almost to safety – The ground dissolved beneath her hooves as an eel appeared directly below her. Trixie's neigh was wild with terror as the fanged maw opened, one beady yellow eye fixed on her. Hooves caught her around the midsection, and with a cry of “Derpy delivery!” Derpy Hooves lifted her clear off the ground. Still panicked, Trixie kicked madly in midair as the eel rose up beneath them. Again, Derpy spun-fell-tumbled to the side, the maneuver made even less graceful by Trixie's added weight. Something slammed into the two mares, and Trixie went spinning, hitting a patch of soft earth with a thud. She heard Derpy's high-pitched scream and forced herself to her hooves, tossing back the hair that had fallen in her face. The eel had missed – almost. Its savage teeth had closed on Derpy's wing, and the pegasus was struggling helplessly as the monster slowly withdrew. Trixie called up her magic with the speed of desperation, and a thin lightning bolt lanced down from the sky to strike the eel. The creature grunted but did not otherwise react; only its head remained above ground. Derpy kicked uselessly. In a frenzy, Trixie slammed bolt after bolt into the eel, and by sheer luck, one struck the monster's yellow eye. The eel's jaws opened in a bellow of pain, and a blue glow appeared around Derpy as Trixie yanked her to safety. Without pause for conversation, the two mares galloped down the hillside, not pausing for breath until they were deep among the trees, and the ground was blessedly firm and unbroken beneath their hooves. How did Trixie get into this mess again? Oh, right: it's all Sheriff Brass's fault. The blue unicorn regarded herself sadly. Her legs were completely brown; her body was spattered with mud; her beautiful hat and cape were stained, and her pale mane and tail were tangled and filthy. She briefly tried to rearrange herself with magic, and finally settled for pushing her hair back over her head and pulling her hat down to hold it there. Derpy, by contrast, seemed entirely unconcerned with her mud-covered state; she was walking in tight circles trying to examine her wing. The fact that neither eye was aimed at the injured appendage did not make it any easier. Trixie stared at her in bewilderment for a moment. How has she managed to stay alive this long? she wondered. Trixie can just see her flying into a tree or something. And she's a mailmare? And has a little filly? And she saved Trixie's life. Trixie tossed he head. Well, Trixie saved her life, too. And besides, Trixie was only in danger because of her. But she was injured saving you, a small voice at the back of her mind whispered. If she hadn't saved you, she would never have needed – Trixie shook her head vigorously, banishing the thoughts. “Here,” she said loudly, advancing on Derpy, “let Trixie see that. The Great and Powerful Trixie is skilled at first aid as well as magic.” As gently as she could, she caught the injured wing with her magic and delicately spread the long primary feathers. Blood caked the feathers, but after a careful examination, Trixie decided that the wing should heal. The eel's teeth had missed the delicate bones, and while it was clearly painful, Derpy was able to move and flex her wing when asked. Derpy stood patiently through the process, not objecting even when Trixie cleaned the wound as best she could. She bound it with one of the brightly-colored scarves she kept concealed in her cape. As she tied off the last knot, Derpy said “Thank you.” “Thank you for . . . saving Trixie,” Trixie said reluctantly. “You're welcome!” Derpy said cheerfully. She blinked, one eye on Trixie, the other focused somewhere overhead. “Now what?” “Now we find those foals,” Trixie replied grimly. Trixie's headache was returning, adding to the general misery of her itchy, mud-streaked legs and tangled mane. She had used the finding-spell again, searching for foal-sized hoof-prints, but the fallen leaves and thick moss beneath the trees made this an exercise in frustration. Lacking any better ideas, the unicorn and the pegasus were simply wandering back and forth, scanning the area for any sign that the foals had been here. Assuming they even made it here. If those eels – No. Trixie is not even going to consider that. They're down here. Somewhere. Abruptly, Trixie caught sight of something that seemed out of place in the lowest branch of a nearby tree. She shut off her finding-spell, which she had only been maintaining out of stubborn habit, and moved closer. The object proved to be a hank of hair – blonde hair – snagged on a twig. Brass had said that Jasper's hair was purple. Was Dinky blonde? Derpy was, after all. There can't be many creatures in Dusky Dale with long, blonde hair, can there? “Derpy! Trixie has found something.” Derpy trotted over and poked her nose into the twigs, squinting fiercely as she forced her eyes to focus. She gasped. “Dinky! It's my little muffin's hair!” Trixie could not repress a fierce grin. They were on the trail again. Carefully grasping their hairs with her magic, she tugged experimentally. After a few moments she determined that they came loose easily when pulled in one direction, indicating that Dinky must have come from there. Therefore, the foals must have gone . . . that way. Northwest, as close as she could determine. The two mares set off, traveling more quickly on the flat ground, senses alert for new dangers or more clues. As they walked, Trixie found herself pondering her unexpected companion. She certainly is determined, she was forced to admit to herself. She acts so scatterbrained, but she's focused on Dinky. Nothing else matters: not the effort, not the mess, not even her injury. In a strange way, Trixie found herself envying the pegasus her sense of purpose. What's it like? she wondered. To care so much for somepony else . . . Trixie had long ago learned that the only way to get anywhere in life was for Trixie to care about Trixie, first and foremost. Others called her egotistical; she preferred the term “confident.” Nopony was going to do it for her, so if Trixie wanted to be a success, she would have to make herself Great and Powerful. It was a good life, if a lonely one. Trixie shook her head in surprise. Where had that come from? Trixie isn't lonely, she told herself firmly. Trixie gets all the socialization she needs. More than most ponies, since Trixie sees dozens of towns all over Equestria! And yet she couldn't help but wonder what it was like for Derpy, traveling with her foal. Annoying, Trixie told herself firmly. Trixie likes her life just fine. Trixie is responsible for Trixie, and doesn't need any useless foals whining about food or playing stupid games. A piercing howl cut through the forest, and both mares stopped dead in their tracks. Derpy looked in two directions at once, her crossed eyes wide, while Trixie spun around, horn aglow, scanning the forest behind them. “What was that?” “Trixie has heard that sound before,” Trixie said, a quaver in her voice. She swallowed hard. “Timber wolves.” “Wimber tolves?” Derpy managed to look bewildered and frightened at once, an expression that struck Trixie as ridiculous. “They're enormous wolf-creatures made of living wood,” the unicorn elaborated. “They only live in wildlands. They hunt in packs, and they're very dangerous.” “We have to find Dinky!” Derpy's eyes were wild. “And Jasper!” Turning, she bolted through the woods. “What are you – stop!” Trixie called uselessly. She made a grab for Derpy with her magic, but missed the other's long blonde tail. Muttering insults concerning walleyed pegasi, Trixie took off after her. They galloped through the woods, leaping fallen logs and dodging low branches. The pegasus had a head start, but Trixie – despite her preference for the magical over the physical – was in good condition, and she slowly closed the gap. Concentrating, she reached out with her magic, intending to grab Derpy's tail and tie her to a tree by it if necessary. Without warning Derpy came to a halt. Unprepared, Trixie crashed into her, and the two went tumbling in a tangle of blue and gray. They rolled down a gentle slope, acquiring several new bruises and some grass stains along the way, and finally came to a halt with Trixie on top. Infuriated, Trixie glared down at the pegasus. “You walleyed menace!” she shouted. Derpy opened her mouth, but the blue glow of Trixie's magic forced it shut again. “Now, you listen to Trixie! If you do not stop running off in a panic and poking your head down strange holes, Trixie is going to tie your tail in knots!” Trixie got to her hooves, still looming over the prone pegasus. “Do not panic! Do not scream! Do what Trixie says! The Great and Powerful Trixie is in charge here! Do you understand?” Crossed eyes wide, Derpy nodded. Trixie gave her a final glare and released her, snatching up her hat and setting it back on her head as she glanced around. They were standing on the bank of a broad stream, almost a small river, which flowed along the valley floor from northwest to southeast. Its banks were gravelly, and its color, a deep, sparkling blue, hinted at great depth. Trixie regarded it morosely, less interested in its beauty than in the chance to wash the dried mud off her itchy legs. She waded hock-deep into the water, using magic to splash her legs and rinse off the worst of the dirt. The water was shockingly cold, but it also refreshed her a bit. Once the mud had floated away downstream, Trixie lowered her head and took a long drink. To her left, Derpy leaped into the river, splashing water everywhere. Trixie flinched from the icy spray, glaring at the oblivious pegasus who was marching in small circles in the shallows. Mud flaked off her gray coat. Trixie shook her head, then turned and trudged back to the bank, shaking water from her hooves. She was idly glad the banks were gravelly rather than muddy. The river presented a new dilemma. If the foals had come this way – and, while she had no way of knowing that, she had to assume they had – they would have only three choices. The could travel upstream, downstream, or back into the woods. Trixie glared up and down the river, trying to decide which was most likely. Think, Trixie! Assuming they're trying to get out of here . . . they were frightened by the eels, possibly heard the timber wolves . . . so they wouldn't go back that way. Derpy said Dinky was sensible, so Trixie will assume they didn't just run in circles in a panic. And the river is, at least, an unmistakable landmark. Then again, horseflies are sensible compared to Derpy. The land to either side of the river was relatively open, with only a few scattered trees; the woods did not start in earnest until several dozen yards back from the bank, affording Trixie a clear view. She started downstream, seeing the river wind away among trees. Upstream looked much the same, although she thought she could see the rocky slope of the dale in the distance. Hmm . . . if Dinky has any flying ability at all, she might be able to get up that slope, Trixie pondered. Downstream just leads to more woods. Time to take a chance. “Come on, Derpy. Trixie has decided we're going this way.” She was prepared to explain her reasoning, but the other mare trotted after her without a word of question or complaint. They had been heading northeast along the riverbank for only a few minutes when Derpy made an incoherent sound and dashed ahead. Trixie followed, alert for any new danger, to find Derpy staring down at a patch of bare earth several yards away from the rocky riverbank. There, pressed into the dirt, were four small hoof-prints “She was here!” Derpy said, looking up at Trixie with tears standing in her amber eyes. “My little muffin! She knew we couldn't find any hoof-prints on the rocks, so she left these!” Trixie squinted at the prints, two sets of two. They were definitely foal-sized, and subtly different in size and shape. Two foals had stood here, pressing their fore-hooves into the soil, making the prints as clear as they could. Trixie's opinion of Dinky went up. She must have known Derpy would come after her. There's no other reason for them to do this, and no other reason for these prints to be here. And this means Jasper is still with her, still alive and uninjured! Tension she hadn't realized she was carrying eased out of the blue mare, and she found herself smiling. “Come on,” she said to Derpy, feeling friendlier towards the pegasus than she had since the moment of their first meeting. “We're going to find them.” Chapter 4Chapter 4 The river wound and twisted, and the woods crept closer to the bank as the two mares continued on their quest. Trixie found herself wondering exactly how big Dusky Dale was; the shadows of late afternoon were lengthening, and she saw no sign of it ending. Here and there the terrain forced them to detour away from the river, to avoid areas of tumbled boulders or snarled heaps of dead trees, cast up by some recent flood. At one point they were forced far back into the woods by a massive tangle of blackberry bushes. Trixie half expected Derpy to try flying over the obstacles, injured wing or no, but she followed the unicorn's lead without complaint. “Hush!” Trixie hissed, ears perking up. “Trixie hears something.” Derpy fell silent and she and Trixie crept forwards through the trees as quietly as they were able. Ahead, the river turned in a large bend, creating a long peninsula of land. At the far end of the peninsula, near the river, were two small, equine figures. Trixie held up a foreleg, blocking Derpy as the pegasus started to move forward. “Stop!” she ordered sharply. “Don't you see? Look!” Curled around the jutting bit of land, looking at first glance like a row of stones in the fading light, was a serpent. Trixie, experienced at the art of misdirection, had noted it immediately, as much by the posture of the two foals as by anything else: they had their backs to the river, their hind hooves actually in the shallows, and were focused tensely on the creature. Trixie's eyes narrowed. It was a maned serpent, a snakelike beast of a breed that inhabited Equestria's larger lakes and rivers. She had heard tales of the creatures. They rivaled dragons in size, and were said to possess elemental powers over water. This specimen was dull blue in color, with a mane of charcoal-colored hair and a long, trailing mustache of the same hue. It had to be at least thirty yards long. If the stories Trixie had heard were true, this serpent was small – downright tiny – compared to most of them. That didn't mean it couldn't easily handle four ponies, though. The serpent moved, slithering forward with the aid of a pair of clawed forelimbs, advancing on the foals. Trixie and Derpy tensed, but it moved only a short distance before stopping, a third of its length still in the water. The two foals moved uneasily to one side, slightly farther from the serpent's head. It's toying with them, Trixie realized. That's the only explanation – it could catch them in a second if it wanted to. It's playing, like a cat with a mouse. She wondered briefly how long it had been playing with the hapless foals. “We have to get them out of there!” exclaimed Derpy. But how? Trixie can't fight a maned serpent! It would just eat Trixie as well. Trixie looked down at her fore-hooves, aware that her legs were quivering with terror. Trixie has to look out for Trixie. Brass was right; the foals are lost. It's hopeless. Trixie should just turn away. Trixie should just get out of here now. She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. And abandon two foals to die. And hate myself forever for that. Abruptly, she turned to Derpy, who was practically dancing with anxiety. “Listen to Trixie,” she snapped, staring into Derpy's peculiar eyes. “Stay here. Do not follow Trixie. Trixie can handle this.” “But –” “No. Trixie can do this. I can save them, but you have to stay back.” Biting her lip, Derpy finally nodded, though she did not look comfortable about it. Trixie held her gaze, nodded once, then turned and marched boldly towards the tableau on the peninsula without a backward glance, tugging her star-spangled hat down firmly onto her head. The foals stirred as she emerged from the woods, and a ripple ran down the length of the serpent. What is Trixie doing? she thought to herself, but there was no time for doubts now. It was time for the Great and Powerful Trixie. “You there! Serpent!” she called in a loud voice. The gray-maned head lifted, turning to regard her, the slit-pupiled eyes narrowing. Trixie continued forward at a confident pace, regarding the river-snake coolly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie, the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria, demands to know what you think you are doing!” She was conscious of the foals staring at her in what was surely disbelief, but she ignored them. She was also acutely conscious of the serpent's sheer size, the fangs visible on his lower lip, the curved claws at the end of his arms. She did not slow, striding boldly towards him. Never let them see you sweat. “Those foals are under Trixie's protection!” she told the serpent, gesturing towards the two young ones. “Trixie advises you not to interfere. The Great and Powerful Trixie once bested an Ursa Major; a tiny river serpent would not even be a challenge.” With that, she stepped arrogantly through the gap – four or five yards wide, if that – between the serpent and the edge of the river, the only path onto the peninsula. This brought her perilously close to the serpent, but it seemed taken aback by her claims – or perhaps by her sheer boldness – and did not hinder her. With her head at an arrogant angle, Trixie marched to the center of the peninsula and glanced at the two foals. They stared back at her with huge eyes, a gray unicorn filly with blonde hair, and a red-brown earth pony colt with an enormous swatch of purple hair. Wait; a unicorn? Derpy is a pegasus; how can . . . never mind. Later. She turned with a swirl of her muddy cape, having placed herself directly between the river serpent and the foals, and gave the serpent a direct look. “Well?” she demanded, one hoof slipping under her cape and hoofing a bit of glitter powder. “Are you going to slither aside an allow us to pass? Or do you dare to challenge –” She raised herself onto her hind hooves, and her other fore-hoof caught a pouch full of poppers. “– the Great and Powerful –” Her horn flared to light as she swept glitter and poppers in the air around her. “–Trixie?” The poppers burst, a myriad of tiny explosions filling the air; the glitter powder shimmered in the multicolored light; and Trixie's magic amplified the whole effect to a dazzling display. The serpent reared back in startlement, eyes widening, mustache fluttering. Trixie allowed herself a confident smirk. Then the reptilian eyes narrowed, and a hiss escaped those fanged jaws. Trixie realized she had made a serious mistake in assuming the river serpent could speak. In a rush, the dull blue serpent came at her. Trixie leaped aside with an undignified squeak, but the attack had been a feint; the creature now loomed above her like some monstrous cobra. Slowly it turned, and Trixie realized that the serpent was turning towards the foals. She acted without conscious thought, sending a lightning bolt hammering into the scaled bulk. The serpent hissed when it struck, turning to face her again, and the foals bolted for safety. Quick as a whip the serpent doubled back, snapping at the young ponies; they leaped apart, the gray filly dashing madly for the woods while the earth pony colt hesitated for an instant, then tried to run between Trixie and the serpent. The beast dove for the colt, jaws agape. The blue glow of Trixie's magic enveloped those trailing mustaches and jerked hard. Startled, the serpent found its strike diverted, and it drove its snout hard into the gravel. With a hiss that was almost a roar it reared back, easily shrugging off Trixie's grip, maddened eyes fixed on her. Got to keep its attention . . . get it away from Jasper. . . The colt was still again, paralyzed with fear, but the serpent wasn't looking at him. Trixie intended to keep it that way. “Is that your best?” she demanded mockingly, in the tone of voice she usually reserved for particularly troublesome hecklers. “Trixie is not impressed. Trixie has seen inchworms more dangerous than you!” Past the serpent, Trixie caught sight of the gray filly sprinting for the trees, and Derpy dashing towards her, the scarf come loose from her injured wing. There's one safe, she thought. She pulled loose an extra-large popper from under her cape and, as the serpent advanced on her, threw it full in its face. The popper burst with a loud report, and the blue snake shied away instinctively. Trixie ran to the colt, but the serpent was quicker than she expected. She had never learned the spell of teleportation, but she had her own ways of getting out of danger. She hoofed a packet of smoke-powder from another pocket of her cape as it reared to strike. As she threw the smoke-powder to the ground at her hooves, the thought flashed through Trixie's mind that the creature would surely see them as the fled, and would inevitably give chase. There was only one way to ensure Jasper's safety. Gray smoke billowed around them, and Trixie slapped Jasper on the flank. “Run!” she said in a hissing whisper, her every nerve screaming terror in her mind. And stood her ground. Jasper disappeared as if shot from a cannon, but Trixie only edged a step to one side. The serpent's head burst into the cloud of smoke, jaws clashing inches away from Trixie. Unable to suppress a neigh of terror, she turned and bucked the creature's face, then galloped toward the river – away from the direction Jasper had taken. The serpent pursued with a furious hissing. Trixie turned at the river's edge and flung more poppers, but the serpent ignored them. It was done playing; it was hurt and angry and going for the kill. Beyond it, Trixie saw Jasper meet Dinky, who had stopped at the treeline. At least there's that, she thought. But where did Derpy . . “Derpy delivery!” For the second time that day, gray hooves grasped Trixie and snatched her off the ground. Shocked, Trixie could only hang limp in the mailmare's grip as she flapped heavily over the water in a wide curve. Behind, the river serpent hissed in frustrated rage, but Derpy Hooves was faster on the wing that it was in the water. Trixie twisted her head around to stare up at her rescuer. Derpy's face was a mask of determination, somewhat undermined by her eyes. Drops of blood trailed from her injured wing, but Derpy did not relent. Not until they were well up the riverbank, almost to the trees and the watching foals, did she falter. Trixie felt her hooves brush the ground and had just enough time to roll herself into a ball before they crashed into the ground, tumbling among the trees. For a few moments everything was dirt and leaves and bruises and dizziness. Staggering to her hooves, Trixie glanced wildly about. The river serpent was coming for them, slower on the ground than in the water, eyes filled with fury. She seized her hat with magic and used it to smack Derpy, whose eyes were rolling in opposite directions. “Get up! We are leaving!” she said as the two foals drew near. Derpy surged to her hooves and the four turned and galloped into the woods without a backward glance. Chapter 5Chapter 5 “You did it! You saved them! You saved my little muffin!” Derpy exclaimed, her walleyed face bright with delight. “You really are the Great and Towerful Pixie!” Trixie was too pleased and exhausted to argue. They had run through the trees until the river was far behind, finally coming to a halt out of sheer exhaustion. Now, in the fading light under the trees, the four ponies were taking a moment to recover themselves. The unicorn filly, Dinky, was tugging at Derpy's saddlebags. “Get down, Mommy!” she ordered in a stern but squeaky voice. “Let me look at your wing.” “My little muffin!” Derpy swept her up in a tight hug, wrapping both forelegs and her uninjured wing around the little pony. Dinky hugged her back, eyes closing with delight. Mildly embarrassed, Trixie glanced away from the mother and daughter. She found herself looking at Jasper, who had halted a few yards away from the others and was regarding Derpy and Dinky with an unreadable expression. Trixie lifted her head to its usual confident angle, adjusting her hat. “So, you must be Jasper.” The colt nodded, his bushy purple hair all but falling into his eyes. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is pleased to have rescued you.” Trixie smiled with satisfaction. “Soon you will be safely home in Promise.” Jasper looked away. “Gee, that's great,” he said in a flat tone. Trixie blinked, surprised. “Don't you want to go home?” Jasper shrugged and turned away, muttering something incoherent. Trixie leaned closer. “Trixie didn't quite hear you,” she began to say – and then she saw it. Protruding through the colt's unruly forelock was what was unmistakably the tip of a horn. Jasper was a unicorn. He must have heard her gasp, because he turned back with a scowl. “That's right! I'm a freak!” He scuffled wildly at his hair with one hoof, trying to cover the horn. “Trixie is –” Trixie was not sure how to react. “Trixie had . . . assumed you were an earth pony,” she said cautiously. “Yeah, I was supposed to be,” Jasper snapped. “Everypony else in Promise is. Even my mom was. But I'm different.” Trixie hesitated, feeling a wholly unfamiliar uncertainty. “Trixie . . . doesn't think being different is necessarily bad.” “You didn't grow up in Promise,” Jasper shot back, but his anger seemed to be fading. “You didn't have ol' Brass and Elder Granite and the rest of the Filii Terram telling you you were a mistake, and your mother was no better than a brood mare, and your father must have been –” He choked off abruptly and ducked his head between his forelegs. Trixie opened her mouth, not sure what to say, and stopped. The Filii Terram . . . where had she heard that phrase before? Before she could complete the thought, Dinky Hooves bolted past her to stand next to Jasper. “He's not a freak!” the unicorn filly squeaked. “He's my friend, and he's awesome!” “Aw . . .” Jasper pushed her gently away with one hoof. “Your mom's not going to want you hanging around with me.” Derpy ambled over, her wing now expertly bandaged, her expression one of cross-eyed serenity. “Anypony who's good enough for my little muffin is good enough for me,” she said simply. “And for Trixie too,” Trixie said with a nod. Jasper blinked in apparent disbelief, glancing from mare to mare. “But – I'm just a useless little by-blow!” Derpy looked bewildered, an expression that seemed entirely too natural on her. Dinky stared at Jasper, her enormous eyes watery. Trixie blinked. “Trixie has never heard such rubbish in her entire life!” she declared firmly. “Trixie can tell already that you are intelligent, and a useless pony would never have survived an entire day and night in Dusky Dale.” “Dinky's the smart one,” Jasper said, kicking at the ground. “Ha!” squeaked the filly, pushing in close to Jasper. “See this?” She extended a hind leg, which had a neat, if grimy, bandage wrapped around it just above the hock. “I hurt my leg on a rock, and Jasper fixed it! He even found a flower to rub on it that made it stop hurting!” She stuck her tongue out at Jasper. “And Trixie saw what happened when the river serpent was after you and Dinky,” Trixie told him. “You tried to draw its attention away from her. That was very brave.” Jasper looked back and forth among the other ponies, seemingly torn between joy and panic. He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment a piercing howl echoed through the forest. “Timber wolves!” Trixie said as the four ponies tried to look in every direction at once. Only Derpy had much success. The two foals huddled together, and Trixie and Derpy moved instinctively to shelter them. “We have to get out of these woods,” Trixie said tensely. “That way!” said Jasper, pointing a hoof. “Towards the valley wall! There are caves!” The ponies galloped off in the direction he had indicated, the two foals close together, the mares on either side of them. Tree trunks flashed by, black pillars in the fading light, and Trixie realized it was almost completely dark. Of course, she chided herself, we're in a forest in a valley! With an effort she brought her horn to light, the sky-blue glow making the shadows of the forest seem even darker. The light flickered weirdly through the trees, but it enabled the four ponies to move faster. Strange rustlings seemed to be following them, surrounding them, and Trixie half-expected some nightmare creature to leap out of the darkness at them at any moment. Derpy shied suddenly with a cry of fear, and Trixie saw eyes shining from the trees to the left. They were yellow, higher off the ground than the top of her head, and they kept pace with the ponies effortlessly. “Wimber tolves!” cried Derpy, crowding closer to Dinky. Trixie sped up, placing herself between Jasper and the eyes. How much farther? she thought desperately. As if in response, the trees abruptly grew sparser, and the massive, rocky slope of the dale reared up before them. The shining eyes of the timber wolf disappeared, but Trixie sensed multiple large creatures lurking in the darkness behind them. Desperately, she activated her finding-spell, reweaving the magic to detect caves. She scanned the rocky hillside, then called “This way! Quickly!” The others followed without question as Trixie galloped towards the dim blue glow her spell had detected. Oh Celestia, let it be big enough, she prayed. It was. The cave mouth gaped before them, and the four ponies galloped into it without pause. Glancing back, Trixie was chilled to see three or four monstrous lupine shapes break from the trees and pursue them. “Keep going!” she shouted, slowing her own pace to let the foals get ahead of her. Her horn came alight again, driving back the shadows. The cave itself was broad and deep, with a low ceiling supported here and there by pale stone columns. Leaves and branches were strewn about, blown in and trapped here by the wind. The columns and weird knobs and fangs of rock cast eerie shadows in Trixie's magic light. Thorny claws scrabbled on stone as a timber wolf came after them. Derpy, half-panicked, turned back to see it and ran smack into a stalagmite with a thud! She collapsed to the stone floor in an insensate heap, her legs moving feebly. Dinky, either not noticing or maddened with terror, kept running. Trixie cursed, torn between her loyalty to Derpy and her desire to protect the fleeing foals – and of course, her own elegant blue hide. She hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity as the wolf advanced on the pegasus. The decision was taken out of her hooves when Jasper hurtled past her, to plant his stubby hooves between Derpy and the wolf. “Get back!” he shouted, lowering his horn. “Get away from her! This is Dinky's mom! You can't have her!” The wolf paused, and Trixie almost felt like laughing at the unlikely spectacle. Jasper clamped his eyes shut, his expression one of fierce concentration, and the wolf took another step forward. Trixie began moving, still unsure what she could do, but determined to do something. The faintest of violet glows enveloped Jasper's small horn, and a tiny orange flame appeared at its tip. The timber wolf stopped, then recoiled as the flame grew larger. Eyes open now, Jasper took a step towards the woody beast, even as two more appeared at the cave mouth. Of course! Fire! He's brilliant! But one tiny flame couldn't hope to hold off all the timber wolves, and Trixie, despite her efforts, had no skill at all at fire magic. She did, however, have other skills. With a whoosh, illusory flame erupted from her horn, the very real light driving back the shadows. “You're afraid of a foal?” she shouted, advancing on the wolves. “Then fight Trixie! Come on, wolves, show Trixie what you're made of.” She made the illusory fire larger and sent tendrils of it whipping out before her, lashing at the wolves. The creatures retreated in confusion. Jasper, eyes wide, continued to hold his real fire as he defended the semiconscious Derpy. Then, reaching out with her magic, she touched Jasper's small fire with her illusory one. Jasper's fire erupted outward, forming a burning corona bigger than his head, and an arc of crackling flame appeared between the two unicorns, a burning bar to the timber wolves' progress. This was enough for the wolves. With a scrabbling of claws on stone they turned and fled. Trixie held the illusory flame for several moments longer, then let it fade, feeling more worn than she could ever remember. A heartbeat later, Jasper's small flame went out as well. For a few moments there was silence as the ponies recovered their breath. Trixie glanced at Jasper, but the unicorn colt had his eyes closed, head hanging, stubby legs trembling with reaction. Behind him, Derpy groaned and waved her forelegs aimlessly, and Dinky was suddenly there. Have to act while we're still awake, Trixie thought; now that the immediate danger was past, the stress of the day was rapidly catching up with her. It would be worse for the young ones, she knew. They had to do something to protect themselves from the wolves; standing watch was flatly impossible. Inspired by Jasper's performance, she decided that a campfire would be the best possible thing under the circumstances. She and Jasper quickly collected some wood, the colt keeping a watchful eye out while Trixie grabbed whatever fallen wood she could see with her magic and hauled it back into the cave. They saw no sign of timber wolves or other dangers, but they did not linger to be certain; as soon as Trixie judged she had enough wood to last until morning, they retreated back into the cave. Derpy was sitting up and rubbing her head, with Dinky tending to her. Relieved to see that the pegasus did not seem permanently injured, Trixie turned her attention to starting a fire. She broke the longer branches up into convenient lengths and built a small cone of wood, then hesitated and turned to Jasper. “Jasper? Would you light the fire?” Jasper blinked his yellow eyes at her. “Me? But . . . why don't you do it?” Trixie hesitated, a half-dozen pat replies crossing her mind, then decided that none would serve. “Because . . . Trixie can't,” she said finally. “But I just saw you –” Jasper gestured towards her horn. Trixie nodded. “It was an illusion,” she said. “Trixie has . . . never had any skill with fire magic. Trixie has tried,” she added ruefully, “but her talents do not lie in that direction. “So you see,” she said quietly, “you can do something that the Great and Powerful Trixie cannot.” The admission did not hurt nearly as much as she'd expected it to. Jasper blinked again, clearly uncertain of how to take this, but stepped gamely to the cone of wood and touched his horn to it. He frowned with concentration and and was still for several minutes; then a tiny curl of smoke drifted up from the wood. Abruptly, a small bloom of flame appeared, and the dry wood caught and began to burn. The four ponies gathered around the fire, Derpy and Dinky huddled together on one side, Jasper and Trixie forming the other two points of a triangle. Dinky dug into her mother's saddlebags and distributed the food, including several battered muffins. Derpy did not object this time; indeed, she hardly seemed to notice. All her attention was focused on her small daughter, and she often extended a hoof or a wing to touch Dinky, as though reassuring herself that the filly was truly there. Despite her bandaged wing, bumped head, and generally disheveled appearance, she wore an expression of quiet contentment. There was silence for a time, broken only by the crackle of the flames. Dinky fell asleep, curled against her mother, and Derpy's eyes acquired a glazed look. Trixie felt tired as she had not in years, but somehow she wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet. She glanced sidelong at Jasper, and saw him lying like a cat, chin on his forelegs, his expression pensive. She remembered his speech from earlier, about the hardships of growing up in Promise, and something clicked in her memory. “The Filii Terram,” Trixie said softly. Jasper and Derpy looked up. “Trixie remembers now. It's from the Old Equestrian; it means 'Children of Earth.' Earth pony zealots, who think any crossing of the breeds is a sin.” She eyed Derpy and Dinky. “They'd love you two,” she added dryly. “Some ponies are like that,” Derpy said simply, and spread her uninjured wing over her filly. It occurred to Trixie that Derpy, with her unusual eyes, absent-minded attitude, and unicorn daughter, must have seen her share of such such feelings. Somehow, it didn't seem to have altered her sunny outlook on life. “That's them, all right,” Jasper agreed. “They said my mom must have – done bad things to have a unicorn son.” He glanced at the sleeping Dinky Hooves. “I never knew any other unicorns until Dinky showed up.” Unspoken was his real meaning: I never had any friends. Trixie felt unfamiliar emotions stirring in her, thinking of such a lonely foalhood. “I guess she'll be leaving,” Jasper continued forlornly. “She said she was only staying in Promise until her mom found the address she was looking for.” Derpy nodded sadly. “Is it really that bad?” Trixie asked. Jasper shook his head. “I guess not,” he said tonelessly. “I mean, nopony's really all that mean . . . the adults, anyway. Brass is an old sourpuss, but he doesn't stand for fighting or anything like that. The rest . . . it's just foals, calling names.” “Names?” “My name,” he clarified. “It's stupid. They say it's a donkey name, that my father must've been a donkey. 'Jass is an ass, Jass is an ass,' ” he quoted bitterly. Trixie had had more than her share of experience with hecklers, and foalish insults had long since lost any power to hurt her feelings, but she keenly remembered her early days on the stage. How much worse must it be for a little colt without anypony to stand up for him? A colt who seemed to half-believe the insults, who called himself 'useless'? She smiled gently at him. “Do you know what your name means, Jasper?” When he shook his head, she continued. “It means treasure. Your mother must have thought a great deal of you to name you that.” “Really?” “Cross my heart,” she said, tracing an X over her chest with one hoof. “And you are a treasure. You kept your head and helped Dinky, and you saved her from the river serpent.” Jasper looked away, but Trixie continued “You're the one who thought of the caves. You're the one who conjured fire to drive off the timber wolves. Do you know how rare it is for a unicorn to do magic at your age?” He looked back at her. “It is?” She nodded. “I am very impressed.” “But . . . Elder Granite and the rest, they say it's wicked and wrong.” “What do they know?” she said dismissively. “Hidebound zealots, afraid to look beyond their little fields. But you are a unicorn, Jasper, and unicorns have magic.” Her own horn glowed briefly for emphasis. Jasper laid his chin on his fore-hooves again, staring sightlessly into the fire. “But I wasn't smart and brave like you're saying,” he said in a quiet tone. “I was scared.” Trixie glanced over at Derpy, who had curled around her daughter and appeared to have fallen asleep. “Do you want to know a secret?” she asked in a low voice. Jasper eyed her and nodded without changing his position. Trixie leaned close to the colt. “Trixie was scared, too.” “You were? But . . . the way you talked to that serpent . . .” “Never let them see you sweat,” she told him. “Trixie learned that when she was about your age. That's half the secret to being successful on the stage.” “What's the other half?” “Never reveal your secrets,” Trixie said with a smirk. Jasper blinked at her for a moment, then laughed. The laugh turned into an enormous yawn, and the colt blinked sleepily, then closed his eyes. Trixie levitated more wood into the crackling fire, then glanced sleepily around at her companions. Derpy and Dinky were curled into a single gray-and-blonde ball, and Jasper had faded into his own dreams. Trixie was tired to her bones, but found herself unable to sleep; the events of the day kept playing themselves over in her mind. She stared at the dancing flames, thinking about Jasper, and Promise. All she had wanted was to find him, return him, and be on her way. She had been forced to take the job in the first place, and even Sheriff Brass had given her an easy way out. So why was she hesitating? She had already gone above and beyond what anypony could have expected. She had found two missing foals, and restored one to her loving mother. And the other . . . She glanced at Jasper. The colt was sound asleep, but even the comforting warmth of the fire could not entirely fend off the chill drafts that crept through the cave. He made no sound of complaint, only curled into a tighter ball. With a sigh, Trixie got to her hooves and crept quietly across to where Jasper slept. Settling down beside him as silently as she could, she spread her torn, stained cape to cover them both. Still asleep, Jasper nuzzled against her side. Before she could clear her mind, sleep claimed Trixie as well. Chapter 6Chapter 6 It was surprisingly easy to get clear of Dusky Dale in the morning. As the shadows faded and the patches of golden sunlight grew, the four ponies made their way to the southeast wall of the valley. The slope was steep, but not as bad as they'd feared, and between Trixie's magic and the foals' youthful agility, they made their way safely to the higher ground. The walk back to where Trixie's wagon was hidden was a quiet one. Derpy and Dinky seemed content just to be near each other, while Jasper's attitude was one of resignation. For herself, Trixie was distracted by her inner thoughts. She had awakened with the dim outline of a plan in mind, and it had slowly solidified as the morning wore on. When they reached the wagon, Dinky turned awkwardly to Jasper. “I guess I have to go now,” she said sadly. “Um . . . goodbye. Maybe I can come visit you again some time.” “Yeah,” Jasper agreed without enthusiasm. “Wait a minute, Derpy,” said Trixie, glancing at the other mare. “Trixie has one more errand in Promise. Trixie would . . . appreciate it if you would accompany her.” Dinky looked surprised, but Derpy simply smiled. “Of course we'll help!” the pegasus agreed. Trixie slipped into her harness, after first herding the two foals into the wagon itself. “Stay inside,” she insisted, “and don't come out until Trixie calls you. And don't go digging through Trixie's equipment!” The weight of the wagon was comforting against Trixie's shoulders, and to her surprise she found herself enjoying Derpy's company as well. The walleyed pegasus was relentlessly cheerful, as though, with her little muffin safe again, nothing bad could happen in all of Equestria. Dinky herself had proven to be smart and capable, far more that Trixie would have anticipated. In mild surprise, Trixie realized that she was thinking of the other ponies, not as mere traveling companions, but as friends. And then there was Jasper, who had performed admirably under intense pressure, keeping his head, manifesting his magic, and risking his life – twice – to save somepony else. He was truly a special colt, Trixie thought, and she wondered how he had developed as he had in a place like Promise. Her thoughts turned darker. Promise, you have a lot to answer for. The unicorn with her gaudy wagon and the pegasus with a bandaged wing attracted a bit of attention as they walked through Promise's gates again, and not all the gazes were friendly. Several ponies took one look at her and galloped off. Good, thought Trixie. Tell everypony. The Great and Powerful Trixie is about to give you a second performance. They reached the town common, and Trixie ducked her head inside the wagon to retrieve some supplies and mutter some low-voiced instructions. As Derpy watched curiously, she unfolded her portable stage and set it up, not bothering with most of the usual decorations. She arranged a trio of fireworks – two Skycrackers and a Blue Nimbus – within easy reach, double-checked the contents of her cloak, and stepped onto the stage. A small crowd had already gathered, a couple of dozen earth ponies with expressions ranging from bemused to hostile. More were trickling in as word spread, but Trixie did not see the one she was particularly interested in. Very well. With a minor spell she had done so often it was second nature now, she touched alight the fuses of the fireworks. The two Skycrackers shot upwards with an enormous hiss, to burst with a deafening double explosion high above the houses of Promise. A second later, the Blue Nimbus erupted in a massive ring of pale blue stars, which faded slowly as they drifted to earth. Normally, Trixie would never have touched off her fireworks so early, or in that particular combination . . . but this was not a normal show. “Citizens of Promise!” she called loudly, weaving another minor spell to make her voice carry clearly. “Gather 'round! The Great and Powerful Trixie has returned, and she has news that all of you need to hear!” More ponies appeared, drawn by the explosions and by Trixie's speech. Scanning the crowd, Trixie caught sight of Sheriff Brass, shadowed by the gawky form of his deputy. She smiled darkly. Showtime. “Ponies of Promise!” she began dramatically, swirling her cape for effect. “Two days ago the Great and Powerful Trixie came among you, seeking to show you some of the most amazing unicorn magic in all of Equestria. And while here, in your town, Trixie discovered a problem. A foal had gone missing, a colt, an orphan. Nopony knew where he could be found . . . not that anypony was trying particularly hard to find him.” That earned her a few glowers, but she ignored them and continued on. “Trixie was asked to seek out the foal, using her incredibly powerful magic. Alas, she found the trail, and it lead straight into the dreadful danger of Dusky Dale! Surely the foal was lost . . . or so it seemed!” Deputy Flute was making his way through the crowd toward her, but Brass was simply watching. Trixie gave them part of her attention as she focused on the crowd as a whole. “But Trixie was not without resources! Undaunted, she pressed on, and what did she find?” She gestured to Derpy, who was standing beside the stage, blinking. “She found that the colt – Jasper – was not the first foal to be lost!” An accusing hoof pointed towards Sheriff Brass. “A mare, a mother, came to your sheriff in tears, seeking her lost filly. She begged for help. She was met with insults and scorn, and turned away.” Brass had the grace to look embarrassed, and several ponies shot him startled looks; apparently this hadn't been generally known before. Flute glared at her. “Accompanied only by this mare, the Great and Powerful Trixie descended into the darkling depths of Dusky Dale, and there she found . . . the foals!” She gestured to her wagon, tugging the doors open with with her magic. On cue, Dinky popped out, followed a second later by Jasper. The two unicorns stood together, blinking uncertainly at the crowd. There was a collective gasp from the townsponies, and Sheriff Brass's face seemed to be caught between three different expressions at once. Deputy Flute stopped in his tracks, glancing from Trixie to Brass in confusion. “Yes!” Trixie went on. “Trixie found them. Not the sheriff, the pony responsible for ensuring the safety of his community. Not the wise mares and brave stallions of the Filii Terram. They were only unicorns, after all. Who cares if they're lost? Who cares if they perish, alone in the wildlands?” “It wasn't like that!” somepony in the crowd called out. “It's not our fault!” said somepony else. “We didn't –” “You can't –” “Silence!” bellowed the showmare, cutting off the rising babel of voices. A dozen feet away, Deputy Flute cleared his throat importantly and swaggered forward. Without bothering to look at him, Trixie gestured with one hoof. A half-dozen bolts of lightning lanced down with a staccato crack! striking the ground all around the lanky earth pony. Flute halted, his gray face going pale. “Trixie had intended to return young Jasper to his . . . loving home,” Trixie continued. “But since it seems nopony in Promise actually values the life of a courageous young pony . . .” She turned to Jasper, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “Jasper,” she said in a quieter voice, “would you like to come away with . . . me? It's not an easy life, but it's never a dull one. And Trixie promises – I promise – you will never be alone.” Jasper blinked rapidly, his expression torn between wonder and disbelief. “You – you mean it?” he managed. “Of course,” Trixie replied. “My little treasure.” Jasper nodded, unable to speak. Then he leaped onto the stage and pressed himself hard against Trixie. She laid a fore-hoof on his back, her eyes closing. “Now, hold on there a minute!” came the voice of Sheriff Brass. Trixie turned back to the crowd, her own expression darkening. “I'm sure this is very touching and all,” went on Brass, “but the fact is, young mare, you were paid to find this colt and return him to Promise. Now, what we –” He was cut off as a pouch of bits smacked him in the face. “Trixie does not want your money,” the blue unicorn declared acidly. “Trixie utterly rejects your 'generous' offer, as you – as all of you – have rejected Jasper. And since it has been made abundantly clear that Promise is not, and never has been, a home to him, he is free to travel wherever he wishes.” Trixie glared around at the crowd, catching the eyes of several ponies. Their expressions ranged from hostile to uneasy to mildly embarrassed. Horn glowing, Trixie created an aura of glittering blue around herself as she reared to her full height. “The Great and Powerful Trixie was tempted – sorely tempted – to do Celestia a favor and remove this blighted burg from the face of Equestria.” She saw several faces blanch, and smiled darkly. That's right, Trixie can do that . . . as far as you know. “Clearly, there is nothing in this town that is keeping with the Teachings of the Sisters. Nothing of the virtues that have made Equestria great. Nothing of value . . . now.” Quite deliberately, she angled her head towards Jasper. Muttering broke out from the crowd, but now it sounded more worried than angry. Trixie spread her fore-hooves, generating a flash of blue light. “But!” she said loudly, “then Trixie thought of a more fitting punishment. Something more permanent. Something more . . . appropriate.” She looked at the crowd, slowly and deliberately catching the eyes of one pony after another. Few held her gaze for long. Last of all she met Sheriff Brass's eyes, and saw fear in them. “Trixie is going . . . to leave you here,” she said, slowly and deliberately. “To go about your petty lives, to grow old, and eventually, to die. And Trixie is going to leave you with this knowledge: you all, each and every one of you, abandoned two foals to die. Because of your fear. Because of your cowardice. And you will have to live with that truth about yourselves, every minute of every day, forever.” With a swirl of her cape, the Great and Powerful Trixie turned and strode dramatically off her stage, and not a pony raised a hoof to stop her. Well, that went better than Trixie had expected. The day was rapidly warming, but the road east of Promise had never looked better to Trixie. She ambled along at an easy pace, her wagon trundling after her. Derpy walked by her side, her wing still bandaged, one eye on the road ahead and the other on the sky. Dinky and Jasper, filled with high spirits, were chasing each other up and down the road, circling the wagon and the two mares. Trixie had been alone for a long time, but that was over now. Derpy and Dinky would be traveling with her until they reached Bridledown, and Jasper . . . Jasper would be with her for a lot longer than that. Trixie had never been responsible for another pony before, and the thought was both intimidating and comforting. The foals tore across the road in front of the two mares. Trixie snorted, but, catching a glimpse of Derpy's expression, felt her irritation melt away. Derpy was watching her unicorn daughter with a look of pure contentment on her face. Following her gaze, Trixie watched Jasper as he ran and laughed with Dinky, diving in and out of the bushes that lined the road. She found herself smiling, simply taking pleasure in his obvious joy. Maybe it was worth it, she thought. The last couple of days; the danger, the terror, the stress, the humiliation . . . maybe it was worth it after all. Abruptly, the foals were standing in front of Trixie, staring up at her. The two mares came to a halt, regarding them curiously. “And what do you two want?” said Trixie. “Dinky asked me – I was wondering –” Jasper fumbled for a moment. “Are you going to teach me magic?” “Of course Trixie will teach you magic,” she replied. “You have a great natural talent already. We can start your lessons tonight.” “And do you think I could be a showpony someday, like you?” “If you want to,” Trixie said, “Trixie has no doubt that you will make the name of Jasper the Magnificent famous throughout all of Equestria and beyond.” Jasper smiled at her, eyes shining. He suddenly hugged her leg, then as quickly took off down the road again, Dinky at his heels. Their voice came floating back to the two mares, shouting something about “timber wolves” and “Jasper the Magnificent” and “Dinky the Wise.” Trixie resumed her pace, Derpy walking beside her. My life has been turned completely upside-down, Trixie thought. I've made enemies of an entire town, probably did wonders for my reputation, and I have a huge new responsibility that's going to last for the next ten or twelve years at the least. No more freedom. No more 'Trixie looking out for Trixie.' Jasper's laughter sounded from somewhere up ahead. Yes . . . it was definitely worth it. Infinite thanks to my friend and brony Quilldipper for suggestions and editing. This story was inspired by Poor Yorick's beautiful picture, "Her Greatest Treasure," seen here: http://twentypercentcooler.net/post/show/4068 Thanks for reading!
Chapter 1Chapter 1 Trixie was still not sure how she had gotten into this situation. It had started as just another show in another tiny town, this one named Promise. She didn't like to dwell on it, but she preferred small towns these days . . . they were more receptive to her talents, more interested in flash and spectacle, and easier to impress. Less likely to be caught up with the latest gossip from Ponyville. The show had been dismal, even by her reduced standards. Normally, her wagon – smaller and scruffier than her old one, but still brightly-painted – attracted attention as she rolled into town, assuring her of at least a moderate crowd. Her fireworks and patter drew more ponies, and after getting them hooked with a few simple tricks, she issued her usual challenge: anything anypony could do, she could best. Inevitably, a few locals with delusions of grandeur would take her offer, but Trixie had been handling such glory-hounds for years, and rare was the one she couldn't humiliate. Play up the crowd, a few more tricks, and collect her bits. A time-tested pattern. Except that Promise didn't follow the pattern. Oh, she attracted attention, but it wasn't excitement or even curiosity . . . it was more like disdain and condescension. Earth ponies were usually the easiest marks for Trixie's show; having no natural magic of their own, they were more appreciative of her flash and glamour. Although Promise was full of earth ponies – she didn't notice any pegasi or unicorns, in fact – they seemed remarkably indifferent to the prospect of a magic show. The gathered crowd was sparse, but Trixie gave them her best efforts regardless. Conjuring, fireworks, illusions, levitation, all the usual elements of her performance. This produced halfhearted applause at best, and some conspicuous looks of disdain. Even her challenge – to best anypony present at whatever stunt they cared to try – did not get one single taker. She had just about decided to end the show early, when the local law appeared. A gangly, self-important young pony with a flute cutie mark lead the way, followed by a heavyset brown stallion to whom the crowd deferred. The introduced themselves as Deputy Flute and the sheriff, and promptly arrested her – exactly what for, Trixie was not certain. Something about her magic show, though the screaming match she and Flute had gotten into made it hard to be certain. The sheriff took matters in hoof, bundling her off to jail without so much as giving her a chance to take off her hat. Trixie considered fighting, but a glance at the crowd dispelled that notion – the satisfaction on their faces convinced her that they would take great delight in holding her for the sheriff, even if she managed to slip his grasp. With bad grace she acceded to the inevitable, and soon found herself in a small, clean cell. She fell asleep on the thin pallet, brooding over the unfairness of the world. The door opened, and the sheriff himself ambled in, a heavy brown earth pony with a jet-black mane and tail, and a cutie mark of three brass shields. Brass, she'd heard him called, but she didn't know if that was a first or last name. She glared at him through the bars. “What is the meaning of this? Why has Trixie been thrown into this wretched place?” The sheriff walked over to Trixie's cell and regarded her in silence for a moment. “Trixie, that's your name, right?” he said, his voice deep with a country accent. “That is correct,” Trixie replied. “And Trixie is still waiting for an explanation, Sheriff Brass.” “Well, Miss Trixie,” Brass said, “seems your paperwork isn't quite in order. Y'see, traveling shows have to have certain papers and permits to operate in Equestria.” “Trixie has the permits,” she snapped. “Trixie showed them to your . . . deputy last night. Signed in Canterlot itself.” “Funny thing about those permits,” Brass said casually. “They're legit, sure enough, and signed in Canterlot like you said. And they're good for anywhere within a hundred miles of Canterlot. Unfortunately, Promise happens to be close on a hundred-fifty miles away from the capital.” Trixie stared in disbelief. “You're joking,” she said after several seconds passed. “You must be.” “ 'Fraid not,” said Brass. “So that's putting on a show without a license . . . trespassing . . .” “Trespassing?” Trixie demanded. “It's the town common! The entire purpose of it is to be open to the public!” The sheriff nodded. “Provided they have the proper permits, of course. And then there's the matter of the children.” “What?!” “ 'Contributing to the delinquency of minor foals,' is the official terminology,” Sheriff Brass elaborated. “Means you were seen talking to some local foals, convincing them to do things for you.” “They asked about Trixie's show,” Trixie said in a stiff voice. “Trixie asked them about your town. Trixie asked them to get her a snack.” The sheriff nodded understandingly. “And I'm sure you didn't mean any harm by it, but the law's the law. And then there's –” “Let us cut to the chase,” interrupted Trixie. “Trixie presumes there are fines associated with all of these . . . offenses. What would they come to, Sheriff?” Mentally, the unicorn ran down the list of her finances. They were at a low ebb, but she could probably scrape together fifty bits or so and not be entirely destitute . . . Sheriff Brass named a figure. Trixie stared in shock. “You're joking.” “ 'Fraid not.” “Trixie doesn't have that kind of money!” “Then,” Brass sighed, “it looks like you're going to be staying with us for quite a while, young mare.” The brown earth pony turned and ambled towards the door, apparently finished with the conversation, as Trixie's mind spun. This can't be happening . . . Trixie can't be thrown in jail in some puny earth pony town just like that, locked up for Celestia only knows how many months, all on some fat sheriff's say-so. It's absurd. Ridiculous. At the doorway, the sheriff paused and eyed Trixie over his shoulder. “Of course,” he said thoughtfully, “as sheriff, I do have a certain amount of influence. On sentences, for instance.” Trixie was silent. “For example,” he went on, “if a young mare who'd gotten in trouble with the law – out of ignorance, not meanness – were to agree to take on a little job on behalf of the town, I could probably get her sentence reduced, or even commuted. And if she did well at the job, I might even be able to justify paying her.” Trixie's eyes narrowed. “What sort of job are you talking about?” “Nothing too complicated. Seems we've got a runaway . . . a colt. Now, we're all homebodies here in Promise, and busy to boot. But you're a traveler, living on the road, and you're not local. You'd pick up on things the rest of us might miss.” “You want Trixie to find a runaway colt?” Trixie repeated, not sure she was hearing correctly. “And if Trixie is successful, you'll drop these ridiculous charges?” “Something like that, yes,” Brass said, turning back towards the unicorn. “Find out what happened to him, where he went and why, and we'll call it even as far as the fines. Bring him back, and there'll be a few bits in it for you.” “It seems that Trixie does not have much of a choice.” The sheriff responded with a broad, insincere grin. “His name's Jasper,” Sheriff Brass was saying as the two of them walked. “Little fella, about so big.” He held a hoof off the ground. “He's a brownish-red color with a purple mane and big yellow eyes. Last seen on the western side of town, couple days ago.” “Mmm,” Trixie said noncommittally. “Does this Jasper have any family or friends whom Trixie might speak with? Somepony who would know him, and could suggest where he might have gone to?” “Afraid not,” Brass answered. “The colt's an orphan; his mama died not long ago.” The earth pony opened his mouth as if to continue, then closed it again. Trixie waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent. They walked on quietly for a time. “I should warn you, Miss Trixie,” Brass said after a moment, “that if you go too far west, you'll run into Dusky Dale, and that's a dangerous place. The plants and animals run wild there, and there's supposed to be monsters living in it. We stay out of there.” “Dusky Dale,” Trixie repeated. “And if Trixie finds that Jasper has gone into this Dusky Dale, what is she to do?” Sheriff Brass sighed heavily. “If he's gone into the Dale, he's not coming out again,” he said soberly. Trixie stopped and stared at him. “Just like that?” she demanded. “You're not even going to make an effort to look?” “No I'm not, and you shouldn't either. I'm not risking any lives on that – on a lost cause. You're a traveler, miss, you should have some idea how dangerous the wild lands can be. If he's in there, the colt won't be the first pony lost in Dusky Dale.” “Fine,” Trixie snapped. “Trixie will look for your missing colt. Now, where is Trixie's wagon?” “Ah, not so fast, miss,” said Brass, raising a hoof. “I think we're just going to hold onto that, for . . . security. Besides, you won't be able to look for a foal while hauling a wagon around.” Trixie ground her teeth, but did not argue. She still had her hat and cape – nopony had tried to take those, and she wasn't about to give them the opportunity – which had a few little surprises here and there. Besides, much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Sheriff Brass lead Trixie to the gate on the north side of town and gestured to the west. “That's where the colt was last seen.” He waited. Trixie stared at the sheriff in frank astonishment. Brass looked blandly back. Really? the unicorn thought, this pony is a sheriff? Ugh. Fine, let's get this over with. With a swirl of her star-spangled cape she turned away from the other pony, marching down the muddy trail without another word. As the wooden walls of Promise disappeared around a bend in the road, Trixie gave serious thought to continuing west and not turning back. She would forfeit her wagon, true, but she'd recovered from worse setbacks. After all, she was the Great and Powerful Trixie! It would be pleasant to never have to see this benighted earth pony burg again, or its fat and incompetent sheriff. But she had her pride to consider. She had agreed to this job, however unwillingly, and the Great and Powerful Trixie did not go back on her word. Much as she was loath to admit it, if Brass did offer her payment for this farce of a job . . . she would probably take it. She was not destitute, but the life of a traveling magician was never one of wealth and ease, especially one with her reputation. Then, too, there was the matter of the colt himself. Trixie knew she was not the nicest of ponies, but the idea of leaving a foal in danger grated on her sensibilities. Besides, with her powers, it would be foal's play to find one lost colt. She would bring the little urchin back to town, reclaim her belongings, and enjoy the look on Brass's face. Yes. That was exactly how it would all work out. The Great and Powerful Trixie had decided it. Three hours later, the Great and Powerful Trixie had just about had it. After a slow start, she had managed to use magic to help her – a minor spell she'd learned as a filly, used for finding lost objects, had been subtly altered to find hoofprints. After some practice, Trixie was able to use it to find only hoofprints of a certain size, and was pleased to locate some immediately – small ones, foal-sized, in the road. The recent rains had left the road muddy and the ground soft, making Trixie's job easier. She was considerably less pleased to discover that they ranged back and forth across the road, now up among the rocks on the north side, now through the trees to the south, now doubling back down the road. This forced her to follow a slow, weaving course lest she miss some clue or some point where the prints left the obvious track. There also seemed to be too many hoofprints. Trixie was no tracker, but she could count, and there were at least two sets of prints traveling mostly parallel with each other – except when they crossed, doubled back, or joined into a confused muddle. Two foals? Brass hadn't mentioned that. Then again, Trixie imagined she could fill a few books with things Brass hadn't mentioned. The finding spell wasn't particularly taxing, but maintaining it for hours proved to be more of a strain that Trixie had anticipated. She was developing a headache, but was reluctant to either take a break or risk losing the trail. Another hour of searching and her headache had become a full-blown reality, but she had reached the end of the trail. So, Trixie guesses this must be Dusky Dale. The valley spread out before her, extending from northeast to southwest and forcing the road to turn south as it followed the valley edge. More than a mile wide by Trixie's guess, Dusky Dale was heavily wooded, with tall, dense forest blocking all view of the ground. Under those trees, she guessed, it would indeed be dim and dusky. The trees below rippled in a gust of wind, and Trixie shivered. Like the Everfree Forest away near Ponyville, Dusky Dale was clearly a wildland, a place where the normal laws of nature did not hold sway, where the weather formed without the aid of pegasus ponies, and where the animals were feral and untamed. This was not good. The trail of the foals had lead down the road for the last mile, in a more-or-less straight line – Trixie was now convinced that there were two foals – and right to the edge of Dusky Dale. There it stopped, and no more hoofprints were detectable to Trixie's magic. Instead, there was a huge mass of raw earth extending down into the valley, where a landslide had ripped away great slabs of mud. Trixie guessed the ground must have been weakened by the recent rains. The trail of the two foals lead directly into the center of the landslide and vanished. Trixie stared down into Dusky Dale, irrationally frustrated. She had done exactly what Sheriff Brass had asked of her: she had found the track of young Jasper (and whoever the mystery foal was) and followed it. As Brass had hinted, it lead into the Dale. Case closed. Jasper was lost, Trixie was free, and that was the end of it. Wasn't it? Trixie closed her eyes in frustration. Yes. That's it. Trixie is getting out of this place before Brass thinks of more “jobs” that he doesn't feel like doing. But if this was a success, why did it feel like failure? With dragging steps, she turned and headed back towards Promise.
Chapter 2Chapter 2 The road heading east of Promise was broad and flat, and despite having come this way a day before, had never looked better to Trixie. True to his word – and to her mild surprise – Sheriff Brass had accepted her word as to the fate of the colt, turned over her wagon, and even given her a small pouch of bits as payment. Wasting no time, Trixie had slipped into her harness and headed east, determined to put Promise behind her as quickly as possible. She was perhaps a mile down the road before it even occurred to her to think of where she was heading. Hmm . . . the next town is Bridledown, which sits on a crossroads . . . The hollow feeling in her middle made Bridledown much more appealing than it might have been otherwise; Trixie had been planning to purchase supplies in Promise. Yes, Trixie will pick up some food there, then head south to Hoofsborough; she hasn't been there in a few years. The countryside should be safe this time of year . . . . . .who was that second foal? And what possessed them to head into a wildland? Trixie shook her head vigorously. That was over, and she wasn't going back. The fate of two foals she had never even seen wasn't her concern. Let Brass worry about it. Yeah. That's likely. That lazy excuse for a . . . Whatever. It's not Trixie's problem any more. Trixie was so engrossed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the other pony until she was almost upon her. By the side of the road was a pegasus mare, gray, with a blonde mane and tail and a cutie mark of several bubbles. She sat beneath a large pine tree in a dejected pose, and her amber eyes – oddly crossed – were filled with tears. She was such a picture of abject misery that it was almost funny – a parody of sadness. Trixie eyed the pegasus, slowing her pace, but the mare paid her no attention at all. Instead, she stared at the ground before her hooves, tears dripping from her muzzle. At her side, Trixie noticed a set of saddlebags. The pegasus mare drew a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out gustily. Trixie came to a halt, her curiosity battling with her pragmatism. After another moment – during which the pegasus continued to ignore her – she spoke up. “What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?” The gray mare looked up . . . at least, sort of. One eye focused on Trixie, while the other seemed to be staring at a spot several yards to the left. In a voice thick with tears, the mare said “I've lost my muffin.” “Your . . . muffin?” “My little muffin.” Trixie blinked. “Trixie . . . is not sure she understands. You've lost a muffin?” “Not a muffin!” the pegasus said insistently. “My muffin! My little Dinky!” “Dinky? . . . Oh. Is that a pony?” The pegasus nodded, sniffing loudly. “My little Dinky, the best filly in the wole hurld.” “The wole . . . the whole world?” Again she nodded. Trixie does not need this. Trixie does not need this. Trixie does not need this. “How did you . . . come to lose Dinky?” “I don't know!” the other burst out. “She said she had a new friend, and they were playing together, and she never came back! She's usually such a sensible little muffin, too.” A new friend? . . . Oh Celestia, no . . . it can't be . . . “And the sheriff, Beriff Shass, he said he couldn't help because he was too busy taking care of the town to help outsiders, and besides it was p-probably my own f-fault for not t-taking better c-care –” The pegasus buried her face in her hooves, seeming on the verge of breaking down completely. Trixie closed her eyes, caught between frustration and disgust. Sheriff Brass, Trixie is really starting to loathe you. Aloud, she said “Look . . . stop crying. It will be all right. Trixie will –” She paused. What was she doing? This wasn't her problem; in fact, she had just managed to escape this problem. She had no intention of wasting her time with this walleyed wonder, and even less desire to spend any longer in the vicinity of Promise. Somepony else would have to help this mare find her missing filly. Her missing filly. Damn it. “Trixie will help you find Dinky.” As she spoke, Trixie slipped loose from the harness of her wagon. “She will?” “Yes. Finding a runaway filly will be mere foal's play for the Great and Powerful Trixie.” The pegasus looked around as if expecting somepony to appear out of thin air. “Where is she?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “No, you silly – me! I am Trixie!” Unable to resist, she hoofed a bit of glitter dust from one of the many small pockets sewn into the inside of her cape; with a dramatic gesture, she swept it through the air. The dust glittered and sparkled as Trixie struck a pose, eyes closed, head high and angled just so. “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria!” “Ooooooooooo!” The pegasus mare's eyes widened with amazement, although they continued to point in two different directions, her sorrow momentarily forgotten. “I'm Derpy!” “Derpy? “Derpy Hooves. I'm a mailmare.” The blonde pegasus pointed to her saddlebags, and Trixie noticed an emblem on the side: a winged envelope. “Always get your letters through. That's why we're here: special delivery. It took me three days to find the address.” Trixie can believe it. She seemed friendly and harmless, but so far Trixie was underwhelmed by her new companion. Her stomach gurgled, reminding Trixie of more immediate concerns. “For now,” she said, “Trixie needs food.” She glanced reluctantly back in the direction of Promise; she hated the idea of going back there, but it would take at least a day to reach Bridledown, and her supplies were at a low ebb. Pine cones . . . ugh . . . “I have food!” Derpy exclaimed excitedly. Flipping open one of her saddlebags, she upended it, dumping its contents onto the ground. Trixie blinked, seeing not just letters – the obvious thing to find in a mailmare's saddlebags – but also several pair of socks, a number of muffins, several apples, a multi-colored scarf, a cabbage . . . “How do you happen to be traveling with all this?” she inquired, poking at what turned out to be a pot of butter. “I emptied Carrot Top's fridge.” “Who is – never mind. Trixie will have a muffin.” “No! That's my muffin!” “It's Trixie's muffin now!”
Chapter 3Chapter 3 Dusky Dale looked no more inviting in the light of early afternoon than it had that morning. Trixie stood at the top of the landslide where she had lost the trail that morning, regarding the valley soberly. The muddy area sloped down at an angle that looked uncomfortably steep, but not impassable. Below, the ground grew rocky for a space before disappearing under the dense trees. Trixie guessed she could make the descent if she was careful – she was fairly agile, and years of pulling her wagon had kept her in good physical condition. She shuddered at the thought of muddying her polished blue hooves, or even the hem of her lavender cape, but mud washed off. Derpy can just fly over it, she thought with a touch of envy, turning to glance at the pegasus. Derpy looked back at her, while simultaneously gazing out over the Dale. Trixie rolled her own eyes. No sense in delaying it. Trixie had parked her wagon in a copse of trees a ways back, hoping to avoid any attention from the earth ponies of Promise. Her horn glowed sky-blue as she adjusted her hat and cape and brushed back her pale hair. She took a deep breath and started down the slope. The going was treacherous, as the ground was a jumbled mix of mud and rock and gaping holes. Trixie gave careful attention to the placement of each hoof, trying to avoid the worst of the muck. Several yards down, a clatter of hooves drew her attention back up-slope: Derpy was following her on hoof. Why doesn't she just fly? Trixie wondered, then dismissed the question as unimportant. Who knew why Derpy did anything? Step by careful step, the two mares made their way down the slide. Trixie's legs were soon muddy past the fetlocks, from splatters and from seemingly-solid ground that gave way like pudding under questing hooves. She was also forced to detour around a number of large holes, big enough for two or three ponies to walk down side-by-side, that angled back into the hillside. Derpy fared little better, though the gray pony seemed cheerfully unbothered by the mud. Something about the holes made her very uneasy, but she couldn't quite place it. Not important, she told herself. Let's just get out of here. She turned back to urge Derpy to move faster. Derpy had found one of the holes and was currently leaning out over it, her head poked into the opening. “Muffin!” she yelled as Trixie stared in disbelief. “What are you doing?!” Trixie demanded in a cross between a whisper and a shout. Into her mind came the conviction, sudden and unquestionable that the holes were very dangerous. “You cross-eyed – stop that!” Derpy ignored her. “Dinky! Are you in there! Come out, my little muffin!” she called. Trixie took a step towards Derpy, who chose that moment to lift her head out of the hole and look down the slope at the unicorn. “I don't think she's in there,” Derpy said sadly. The ground exploded. Trixie was conscious of a huge, serpentine body, burgundy in color; a long-jawed mouth large enough to swallow her wagon and filled with sharp teeth; a yellow eye the size of her entire head. She was screaming, and Derpy was screaming, and somehow she found solid ground under her hooves and she was running as hard as she could. Quarray eels. The name came into Trixie's mind, and suddenly she remembered hearing stories of the dreadful creatures. The ground rumbled under her hooves, and a geyser of dirt erupted from a hole not three yards away. She shied, dirt clods bouncing off her head and back, and spun wildly in place. Where was a safe path? Where was Derpy? The gray pegasus rose into view, flying strongly, heading down the slope. Oh sure, now she decides to fly, Trixie thought irrationally. A quarray eel burst out of a hole below Derpy, long jaws agape. Trixie felt her heart lurch, but Derpy tumbled sideways in a sort of combination of pirouette and controlled fall, and the snakelike monster's teeth slammed shut on air. Trixie turned and sprinted down the slide, leaping recklessly over stones, plowing through mud without a care. She saw a hole ahead and to her left and veered right. She could see solid ground ahead – she was almost to safety – The ground dissolved beneath her hooves as an eel appeared directly below her. Trixie's neigh was wild with terror as the fanged maw opened, one beady yellow eye fixed on her. Hooves caught her around the midsection, and with a cry of “Derpy delivery!” Derpy Hooves lifted her clear off the ground. Still panicked, Trixie kicked madly in midair as the eel rose up beneath them. Again, Derpy spun-fell-tumbled to the side, the maneuver made even less graceful by Trixie's added weight. Something slammed into the two mares, and Trixie went spinning, hitting a patch of soft earth with a thud. She heard Derpy's high-pitched scream and forced herself to her hooves, tossing back the hair that had fallen in her face. The eel had missed – almost. Its savage teeth had closed on Derpy's wing, and the pegasus was struggling helplessly as the monster slowly withdrew. Trixie called up her magic with the speed of desperation, and a thin lightning bolt lanced down from the sky to strike the eel. The creature grunted but did not otherwise react; only its head remained above ground. Derpy kicked uselessly. In a frenzy, Trixie slammed bolt after bolt into the eel, and by sheer luck, one struck the monster's yellow eye. The eel's jaws opened in a bellow of pain, and a blue glow appeared around Derpy as Trixie yanked her to safety. Without pause for conversation, the two mares galloped down the hillside, not pausing for breath until they were deep among the trees, and the ground was blessedly firm and unbroken beneath their hooves. How did Trixie get into this mess again? Oh, right: it's all Sheriff Brass's fault. The blue unicorn regarded herself sadly. Her legs were completely brown; her body was spattered with mud; her beautiful hat and cape were stained, and her pale mane and tail were tangled and filthy. She briefly tried to rearrange herself with magic, and finally settled for pushing her hair back over her head and pulling her hat down to hold it there. Derpy, by contrast, seemed entirely unconcerned with her mud-covered state; she was walking in tight circles trying to examine her wing. The fact that neither eye was aimed at the injured appendage did not make it any easier. Trixie stared at her in bewilderment for a moment. How has she managed to stay alive this long? she wondered. Trixie can just see her flying into a tree or something. And she's a mailmare? And has a little filly? And she saved Trixie's life. Trixie tossed he head. Well, Trixie saved her life, too. And besides, Trixie was only in danger because of her. But she was injured saving you, a small voice at the back of her mind whispered. If she hadn't saved you, she would never have needed – Trixie shook her head vigorously, banishing the thoughts. “Here,” she said loudly, advancing on Derpy, “let Trixie see that. The Great and Powerful Trixie is skilled at first aid as well as magic.” As gently as she could, she caught the injured wing with her magic and delicately spread the long primary feathers. Blood caked the feathers, but after a careful examination, Trixie decided that the wing should heal. The eel's teeth had missed the delicate bones, and while it was clearly painful, Derpy was able to move and flex her wing when asked. Derpy stood patiently through the process, not objecting even when Trixie cleaned the wound as best she could. She bound it with one of the brightly-colored scarves she kept concealed in her cape. As she tied off the last knot, Derpy said “Thank you.” “Thank you for . . . saving Trixie,” Trixie said reluctantly. “You're welcome!” Derpy said cheerfully. She blinked, one eye on Trixie, the other focused somewhere overhead. “Now what?” “Now we find those foals,” Trixie replied grimly. Trixie's headache was returning, adding to the general misery of her itchy, mud-streaked legs and tangled mane. She had used the finding-spell again, searching for foal-sized hoof-prints, but the fallen leaves and thick moss beneath the trees made this an exercise in frustration. Lacking any better ideas, the unicorn and the pegasus were simply wandering back and forth, scanning the area for any sign that the foals had been here. Assuming they even made it here. If those eels – No. Trixie is not even going to consider that. They're down here. Somewhere. Abruptly, Trixie caught sight of something that seemed out of place in the lowest branch of a nearby tree. She shut off her finding-spell, which she had only been maintaining out of stubborn habit, and moved closer. The object proved to be a hank of hair – blonde hair – snagged on a twig. Brass had said that Jasper's hair was purple. Was Dinky blonde? Derpy was, after all. There can't be many creatures in Dusky Dale with long, blonde hair, can there? “Derpy! Trixie has found something.” Derpy trotted over and poked her nose into the twigs, squinting fiercely as she forced her eyes to focus. She gasped. “Dinky! It's my little muffin's hair!” Trixie could not repress a fierce grin. They were on the trail again. Carefully grasping their hairs with her magic, she tugged experimentally. After a few moments she determined that they came loose easily when pulled in one direction, indicating that Dinky must have come from there. Therefore, the foals must have gone . . . that way. Northwest, as close as she could determine. The two mares set off, traveling more quickly on the flat ground, senses alert for new dangers or more clues. As they walked, Trixie found herself pondering her unexpected companion. She certainly is determined, she was forced to admit to herself. She acts so scatterbrained, but she's focused on Dinky. Nothing else matters: not the effort, not the mess, not even her injury. In a strange way, Trixie found herself envying the pegasus her sense of purpose. What's it like? she wondered. To care so much for somepony else . . . Trixie had long ago learned that the only way to get anywhere in life was for Trixie to care about Trixie, first and foremost. Others called her egotistical; she preferred the term “confident.” Nopony was going to do it for her, so if Trixie wanted to be a success, she would have to make herself Great and Powerful. It was a good life, if a lonely one. Trixie shook her head in surprise. Where had that come from? Trixie isn't lonely, she told herself firmly. Trixie gets all the socialization she needs. More than most ponies, since Trixie sees dozens of towns all over Equestria! And yet she couldn't help but wonder what it was like for Derpy, traveling with her foal. Annoying, Trixie told herself firmly. Trixie likes her life just fine. Trixie is responsible for Trixie, and doesn't need any useless foals whining about food or playing stupid games. A piercing howl cut through the forest, and both mares stopped dead in their tracks. Derpy looked in two directions at once, her crossed eyes wide, while Trixie spun around, horn aglow, scanning the forest behind them. “What was that?” “Trixie has heard that sound before,” Trixie said, a quaver in her voice. She swallowed hard. “Timber wolves.” “Wimber tolves?” Derpy managed to look bewildered and frightened at once, an expression that struck Trixie as ridiculous. “They're enormous wolf-creatures made of living wood,” the unicorn elaborated. “They only live in wildlands. They hunt in packs, and they're very dangerous.” “We have to find Dinky!” Derpy's eyes were wild. “And Jasper!” Turning, she bolted through the woods. “What are you – stop!” Trixie called uselessly. She made a grab for Derpy with her magic, but missed the other's long blonde tail. Muttering insults concerning walleyed pegasi, Trixie took off after her. They galloped through the woods, leaping fallen logs and dodging low branches. The pegasus had a head start, but Trixie – despite her preference for the magical over the physical – was in good condition, and she slowly closed the gap. Concentrating, she reached out with her magic, intending to grab Derpy's tail and tie her to a tree by it if necessary. Without warning Derpy came to a halt. Unprepared, Trixie crashed into her, and the two went tumbling in a tangle of blue and gray. They rolled down a gentle slope, acquiring several new bruises and some grass stains along the way, and finally came to a halt with Trixie on top. Infuriated, Trixie glared down at the pegasus. “You walleyed menace!” she shouted. Derpy opened her mouth, but the blue glow of Trixie's magic forced it shut again. “Now, you listen to Trixie! If you do not stop running off in a panic and poking your head down strange holes, Trixie is going to tie your tail in knots!” Trixie got to her hooves, still looming over the prone pegasus. “Do not panic! Do not scream! Do what Trixie says! The Great and Powerful Trixie is in charge here! Do you understand?” Crossed eyes wide, Derpy nodded. Trixie gave her a final glare and released her, snatching up her hat and setting it back on her head as she glanced around. They were standing on the bank of a broad stream, almost a small river, which flowed along the valley floor from northwest to southeast. Its banks were gravelly, and its color, a deep, sparkling blue, hinted at great depth. Trixie regarded it morosely, less interested in its beauty than in the chance to wash the dried mud off her itchy legs. She waded hock-deep into the water, using magic to splash her legs and rinse off the worst of the dirt. The water was shockingly cold, but it also refreshed her a bit. Once the mud had floated away downstream, Trixie lowered her head and took a long drink. To her left, Derpy leaped into the river, splashing water everywhere. Trixie flinched from the icy spray, glaring at the oblivious pegasus who was marching in small circles in the shallows. Mud flaked off her gray coat. Trixie shook her head, then turned and trudged back to the bank, shaking water from her hooves. She was idly glad the banks were gravelly rather than muddy. The river presented a new dilemma. If the foals had come this way – and, while she had no way of knowing that, she had to assume they had – they would have only three choices. The could travel upstream, downstream, or back into the woods. Trixie glared up and down the river, trying to decide which was most likely. Think, Trixie! Assuming they're trying to get out of here . . . they were frightened by the eels, possibly heard the timber wolves . . . so they wouldn't go back that way. Derpy said Dinky was sensible, so Trixie will assume they didn't just run in circles in a panic. And the river is, at least, an unmistakable landmark. Then again, horseflies are sensible compared to Derpy. The land to either side of the river was relatively open, with only a few scattered trees; the woods did not start in earnest until several dozen yards back from the bank, affording Trixie a clear view. She started downstream, seeing the river wind away among trees. Upstream looked much the same, although she thought she could see the rocky slope of the dale in the distance. Hmm . . . if Dinky has any flying ability at all, she might be able to get up that slope, Trixie pondered. Downstream just leads to more woods. Time to take a chance. “Come on, Derpy. Trixie has decided we're going this way.” She was prepared to explain her reasoning, but the other mare trotted after her without a word of question or complaint. They had been heading northeast along the riverbank for only a few minutes when Derpy made an incoherent sound and dashed ahead. Trixie followed, alert for any new danger, to find Derpy staring down at a patch of bare earth several yards away from the rocky riverbank. There, pressed into the dirt, were four small hoof-prints “She was here!” Derpy said, looking up at Trixie with tears standing in her amber eyes. “My little muffin! She knew we couldn't find any hoof-prints on the rocks, so she left these!” Trixie squinted at the prints, two sets of two. They were definitely foal-sized, and subtly different in size and shape. Two foals had stood here, pressing their fore-hooves into the soil, making the prints as clear as they could. Trixie's opinion of Dinky went up. She must have known Derpy would come after her. There's no other reason for them to do this, and no other reason for these prints to be here. And this means Jasper is still with her, still alive and uninjured! Tension she hadn't realized she was carrying eased out of the blue mare, and she found herself smiling. “Come on,” she said to Derpy, feeling friendlier towards the pegasus than she had since the moment of their first meeting. “We're going to find them.”
Chapter 4Chapter 4 The river wound and twisted, and the woods crept closer to the bank as the two mares continued on their quest. Trixie found herself wondering exactly how big Dusky Dale was; the shadows of late afternoon were lengthening, and she saw no sign of it ending. Here and there the terrain forced them to detour away from the river, to avoid areas of tumbled boulders or snarled heaps of dead trees, cast up by some recent flood. At one point they were forced far back into the woods by a massive tangle of blackberry bushes. Trixie half expected Derpy to try flying over the obstacles, injured wing or no, but she followed the unicorn's lead without complaint. “Hush!” Trixie hissed, ears perking up. “Trixie hears something.” Derpy fell silent and she and Trixie crept forwards through the trees as quietly as they were able. Ahead, the river turned in a large bend, creating a long peninsula of land. At the far end of the peninsula, near the river, were two small, equine figures. Trixie held up a foreleg, blocking Derpy as the pegasus started to move forward. “Stop!” she ordered sharply. “Don't you see? Look!” Curled around the jutting bit of land, looking at first glance like a row of stones in the fading light, was a serpent. Trixie, experienced at the art of misdirection, had noted it immediately, as much by the posture of the two foals as by anything else: they had their backs to the river, their hind hooves actually in the shallows, and were focused tensely on the creature. Trixie's eyes narrowed. It was a maned serpent, a snakelike beast of a breed that inhabited Equestria's larger lakes and rivers. She had heard tales of the creatures. They rivaled dragons in size, and were said to possess elemental powers over water. This specimen was dull blue in color, with a mane of charcoal-colored hair and a long, trailing mustache of the same hue. It had to be at least thirty yards long. If the stories Trixie had heard were true, this serpent was small – downright tiny – compared to most of them. That didn't mean it couldn't easily handle four ponies, though. The serpent moved, slithering forward with the aid of a pair of clawed forelimbs, advancing on the foals. Trixie and Derpy tensed, but it moved only a short distance before stopping, a third of its length still in the water. The two foals moved uneasily to one side, slightly farther from the serpent's head. It's toying with them, Trixie realized. That's the only explanation – it could catch them in a second if it wanted to. It's playing, like a cat with a mouse. She wondered briefly how long it had been playing with the hapless foals. “We have to get them out of there!” exclaimed Derpy. But how? Trixie can't fight a maned serpent! It would just eat Trixie as well. Trixie looked down at her fore-hooves, aware that her legs were quivering with terror. Trixie has to look out for Trixie. Brass was right; the foals are lost. It's hopeless. Trixie should just turn away. Trixie should just get out of here now. She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. And abandon two foals to die. And hate myself forever for that. Abruptly, she turned to Derpy, who was practically dancing with anxiety. “Listen to Trixie,” she snapped, staring into Derpy's peculiar eyes. “Stay here. Do not follow Trixie. Trixie can handle this.” “But –” “No. Trixie can do this. I can save them, but you have to stay back.” Biting her lip, Derpy finally nodded, though she did not look comfortable about it. Trixie held her gaze, nodded once, then turned and marched boldly towards the tableau on the peninsula without a backward glance, tugging her star-spangled hat down firmly onto her head. The foals stirred as she emerged from the woods, and a ripple ran down the length of the serpent. What is Trixie doing? she thought to herself, but there was no time for doubts now. It was time for the Great and Powerful Trixie. “You there! Serpent!” she called in a loud voice. The gray-maned head lifted, turning to regard her, the slit-pupiled eyes narrowing. Trixie continued forward at a confident pace, regarding the river-snake coolly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie, the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria, demands to know what you think you are doing!” She was conscious of the foals staring at her in what was surely disbelief, but she ignored them. She was also acutely conscious of the serpent's sheer size, the fangs visible on his lower lip, the curved claws at the end of his arms. She did not slow, striding boldly towards him. Never let them see you sweat. “Those foals are under Trixie's protection!” she told the serpent, gesturing towards the two young ones. “Trixie advises you not to interfere. The Great and Powerful Trixie once bested an Ursa Major; a tiny river serpent would not even be a challenge.” With that, she stepped arrogantly through the gap – four or five yards wide, if that – between the serpent and the edge of the river, the only path onto the peninsula. This brought her perilously close to the serpent, but it seemed taken aback by her claims – or perhaps by her sheer boldness – and did not hinder her. With her head at an arrogant angle, Trixie marched to the center of the peninsula and glanced at the two foals. They stared back at her with huge eyes, a gray unicorn filly with blonde hair, and a red-brown earth pony colt with an enormous swatch of purple hair. Wait; a unicorn? Derpy is a pegasus; how can . . . never mind. Later. She turned with a swirl of her muddy cape, having placed herself directly between the river serpent and the foals, and gave the serpent a direct look. “Well?” she demanded, one hoof slipping under her cape and hoofing a bit of glitter powder. “Are you going to slither aside an allow us to pass? Or do you dare to challenge –” She raised herself onto her hind hooves, and her other fore-hoof caught a pouch full of poppers. “– the Great and Powerful –” Her horn flared to light as she swept glitter and poppers in the air around her. “–Trixie?” The poppers burst, a myriad of tiny explosions filling the air; the glitter powder shimmered in the multicolored light; and Trixie's magic amplified the whole effect to a dazzling display. The serpent reared back in startlement, eyes widening, mustache fluttering. Trixie allowed herself a confident smirk. Then the reptilian eyes narrowed, and a hiss escaped those fanged jaws. Trixie realized she had made a serious mistake in assuming the river serpent could speak. In a rush, the dull blue serpent came at her. Trixie leaped aside with an undignified squeak, but the attack had been a feint; the creature now loomed above her like some monstrous cobra. Slowly it turned, and Trixie realized that the serpent was turning towards the foals. She acted without conscious thought, sending a lightning bolt hammering into the scaled bulk. The serpent hissed when it struck, turning to face her again, and the foals bolted for safety. Quick as a whip the serpent doubled back, snapping at the young ponies; they leaped apart, the gray filly dashing madly for the woods while the earth pony colt hesitated for an instant, then tried to run between Trixie and the serpent. The beast dove for the colt, jaws agape. The blue glow of Trixie's magic enveloped those trailing mustaches and jerked hard. Startled, the serpent found its strike diverted, and it drove its snout hard into the gravel. With a hiss that was almost a roar it reared back, easily shrugging off Trixie's grip, maddened eyes fixed on her. Got to keep its attention . . . get it away from Jasper. . . The colt was still again, paralyzed with fear, but the serpent wasn't looking at him. Trixie intended to keep it that way. “Is that your best?” she demanded mockingly, in the tone of voice she usually reserved for particularly troublesome hecklers. “Trixie is not impressed. Trixie has seen inchworms more dangerous than you!” Past the serpent, Trixie caught sight of the gray filly sprinting for the trees, and Derpy dashing towards her, the scarf come loose from her injured wing. There's one safe, she thought. She pulled loose an extra-large popper from under her cape and, as the serpent advanced on her, threw it full in its face. The popper burst with a loud report, and the blue snake shied away instinctively. Trixie ran to the colt, but the serpent was quicker than she expected. She had never learned the spell of teleportation, but she had her own ways of getting out of danger. She hoofed a packet of smoke-powder from another pocket of her cape as it reared to strike. As she threw the smoke-powder to the ground at her hooves, the thought flashed through Trixie's mind that the creature would surely see them as the fled, and would inevitably give chase. There was only one way to ensure Jasper's safety. Gray smoke billowed around them, and Trixie slapped Jasper on the flank. “Run!” she said in a hissing whisper, her every nerve screaming terror in her mind. And stood her ground. Jasper disappeared as if shot from a cannon, but Trixie only edged a step to one side. The serpent's head burst into the cloud of smoke, jaws clashing inches away from Trixie. Unable to suppress a neigh of terror, she turned and bucked the creature's face, then galloped toward the river – away from the direction Jasper had taken. The serpent pursued with a furious hissing. Trixie turned at the river's edge and flung more poppers, but the serpent ignored them. It was done playing; it was hurt and angry and going for the kill. Beyond it, Trixie saw Jasper meet Dinky, who had stopped at the treeline. At least there's that, she thought. But where did Derpy . . “Derpy delivery!” For the second time that day, gray hooves grasped Trixie and snatched her off the ground. Shocked, Trixie could only hang limp in the mailmare's grip as she flapped heavily over the water in a wide curve. Behind, the river serpent hissed in frustrated rage, but Derpy Hooves was faster on the wing that it was in the water. Trixie twisted her head around to stare up at her rescuer. Derpy's face was a mask of determination, somewhat undermined by her eyes. Drops of blood trailed from her injured wing, but Derpy did not relent. Not until they were well up the riverbank, almost to the trees and the watching foals, did she falter. Trixie felt her hooves brush the ground and had just enough time to roll herself into a ball before they crashed into the ground, tumbling among the trees. For a few moments everything was dirt and leaves and bruises and dizziness. Staggering to her hooves, Trixie glanced wildly about. The river serpent was coming for them, slower on the ground than in the water, eyes filled with fury. She seized her hat with magic and used it to smack Derpy, whose eyes were rolling in opposite directions. “Get up! We are leaving!” she said as the two foals drew near. Derpy surged to her hooves and the four turned and galloped into the woods without a backward glance.
Chapter 5Chapter 5 “You did it! You saved them! You saved my little muffin!” Derpy exclaimed, her walleyed face bright with delight. “You really are the Great and Towerful Pixie!” Trixie was too pleased and exhausted to argue. They had run through the trees until the river was far behind, finally coming to a halt out of sheer exhaustion. Now, in the fading light under the trees, the four ponies were taking a moment to recover themselves. The unicorn filly, Dinky, was tugging at Derpy's saddlebags. “Get down, Mommy!” she ordered in a stern but squeaky voice. “Let me look at your wing.” “My little muffin!” Derpy swept her up in a tight hug, wrapping both forelegs and her uninjured wing around the little pony. Dinky hugged her back, eyes closing with delight. Mildly embarrassed, Trixie glanced away from the mother and daughter. She found herself looking at Jasper, who had halted a few yards away from the others and was regarding Derpy and Dinky with an unreadable expression. Trixie lifted her head to its usual confident angle, adjusting her hat. “So, you must be Jasper.” The colt nodded, his bushy purple hair all but falling into his eyes. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is pleased to have rescued you.” Trixie smiled with satisfaction. “Soon you will be safely home in Promise.” Jasper looked away. “Gee, that's great,” he said in a flat tone. Trixie blinked, surprised. “Don't you want to go home?” Jasper shrugged and turned away, muttering something incoherent. Trixie leaned closer. “Trixie didn't quite hear you,” she began to say – and then she saw it. Protruding through the colt's unruly forelock was what was unmistakably the tip of a horn. Jasper was a unicorn. He must have heard her gasp, because he turned back with a scowl. “That's right! I'm a freak!” He scuffled wildly at his hair with one hoof, trying to cover the horn. “Trixie is –” Trixie was not sure how to react. “Trixie had . . . assumed you were an earth pony,” she said cautiously. “Yeah, I was supposed to be,” Jasper snapped. “Everypony else in Promise is. Even my mom was. But I'm different.” Trixie hesitated, feeling a wholly unfamiliar uncertainty. “Trixie . . . doesn't think being different is necessarily bad.” “You didn't grow up in Promise,” Jasper shot back, but his anger seemed to be fading. “You didn't have ol' Brass and Elder Granite and the rest of the Filii Terram telling you you were a mistake, and your mother was no better than a brood mare, and your father must have been –” He choked off abruptly and ducked his head between his forelegs. Trixie opened her mouth, not sure what to say, and stopped. The Filii Terram . . . where had she heard that phrase before? Before she could complete the thought, Dinky Hooves bolted past her to stand next to Jasper. “He's not a freak!” the unicorn filly squeaked. “He's my friend, and he's awesome!” “Aw . . .” Jasper pushed her gently away with one hoof. “Your mom's not going to want you hanging around with me.” Derpy ambled over, her wing now expertly bandaged, her expression one of cross-eyed serenity. “Anypony who's good enough for my little muffin is good enough for me,” she said simply. “And for Trixie too,” Trixie said with a nod. Jasper blinked in apparent disbelief, glancing from mare to mare. “But – I'm just a useless little by-blow!” Derpy looked bewildered, an expression that seemed entirely too natural on her. Dinky stared at Jasper, her enormous eyes watery. Trixie blinked. “Trixie has never heard such rubbish in her entire life!” she declared firmly. “Trixie can tell already that you are intelligent, and a useless pony would never have survived an entire day and night in Dusky Dale.” “Dinky's the smart one,” Jasper said, kicking at the ground. “Ha!” squeaked the filly, pushing in close to Jasper. “See this?” She extended a hind leg, which had a neat, if grimy, bandage wrapped around it just above the hock. “I hurt my leg on a rock, and Jasper fixed it! He even found a flower to rub on it that made it stop hurting!” She stuck her tongue out at Jasper. “And Trixie saw what happened when the river serpent was after you and Dinky,” Trixie told him. “You tried to draw its attention away from her. That was very brave.” Jasper looked back and forth among the other ponies, seemingly torn between joy and panic. He opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment a piercing howl echoed through the forest. “Timber wolves!” Trixie said as the four ponies tried to look in every direction at once. Only Derpy had much success. The two foals huddled together, and Trixie and Derpy moved instinctively to shelter them. “We have to get out of these woods,” Trixie said tensely. “That way!” said Jasper, pointing a hoof. “Towards the valley wall! There are caves!” The ponies galloped off in the direction he had indicated, the two foals close together, the mares on either side of them. Tree trunks flashed by, black pillars in the fading light, and Trixie realized it was almost completely dark. Of course, she chided herself, we're in a forest in a valley! With an effort she brought her horn to light, the sky-blue glow making the shadows of the forest seem even darker. The light flickered weirdly through the trees, but it enabled the four ponies to move faster. Strange rustlings seemed to be following them, surrounding them, and Trixie half-expected some nightmare creature to leap out of the darkness at them at any moment. Derpy shied suddenly with a cry of fear, and Trixie saw eyes shining from the trees to the left. They were yellow, higher off the ground than the top of her head, and they kept pace with the ponies effortlessly. “Wimber tolves!” cried Derpy, crowding closer to Dinky. Trixie sped up, placing herself between Jasper and the eyes. How much farther? she thought desperately. As if in response, the trees abruptly grew sparser, and the massive, rocky slope of the dale reared up before them. The shining eyes of the timber wolf disappeared, but Trixie sensed multiple large creatures lurking in the darkness behind them. Desperately, she activated her finding-spell, reweaving the magic to detect caves. She scanned the rocky hillside, then called “This way! Quickly!” The others followed without question as Trixie galloped towards the dim blue glow her spell had detected. Oh Celestia, let it be big enough, she prayed. It was. The cave mouth gaped before them, and the four ponies galloped into it without pause. Glancing back, Trixie was chilled to see three or four monstrous lupine shapes break from the trees and pursue them. “Keep going!” she shouted, slowing her own pace to let the foals get ahead of her. Her horn came alight again, driving back the shadows. The cave itself was broad and deep, with a low ceiling supported here and there by pale stone columns. Leaves and branches were strewn about, blown in and trapped here by the wind. The columns and weird knobs and fangs of rock cast eerie shadows in Trixie's magic light. Thorny claws scrabbled on stone as a timber wolf came after them. Derpy, half-panicked, turned back to see it and ran smack into a stalagmite with a thud! She collapsed to the stone floor in an insensate heap, her legs moving feebly. Dinky, either not noticing or maddened with terror, kept running. Trixie cursed, torn between her loyalty to Derpy and her desire to protect the fleeing foals – and of course, her own elegant blue hide. She hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity as the wolf advanced on the pegasus. The decision was taken out of her hooves when Jasper hurtled past her, to plant his stubby hooves between Derpy and the wolf. “Get back!” he shouted, lowering his horn. “Get away from her! This is Dinky's mom! You can't have her!” The wolf paused, and Trixie almost felt like laughing at the unlikely spectacle. Jasper clamped his eyes shut, his expression one of fierce concentration, and the wolf took another step forward. Trixie began moving, still unsure what she could do, but determined to do something. The faintest of violet glows enveloped Jasper's small horn, and a tiny orange flame appeared at its tip. The timber wolf stopped, then recoiled as the flame grew larger. Eyes open now, Jasper took a step towards the woody beast, even as two more appeared at the cave mouth. Of course! Fire! He's brilliant! But one tiny flame couldn't hope to hold off all the timber wolves, and Trixie, despite her efforts, had no skill at all at fire magic. She did, however, have other skills. With a whoosh, illusory flame erupted from her horn, the very real light driving back the shadows. “You're afraid of a foal?” she shouted, advancing on the wolves. “Then fight Trixie! Come on, wolves, show Trixie what you're made of.” She made the illusory fire larger and sent tendrils of it whipping out before her, lashing at the wolves. The creatures retreated in confusion. Jasper, eyes wide, continued to hold his real fire as he defended the semiconscious Derpy. Then, reaching out with her magic, she touched Jasper's small fire with her illusory one. Jasper's fire erupted outward, forming a burning corona bigger than his head, and an arc of crackling flame appeared between the two unicorns, a burning bar to the timber wolves' progress. This was enough for the wolves. With a scrabbling of claws on stone they turned and fled. Trixie held the illusory flame for several moments longer, then let it fade, feeling more worn than she could ever remember. A heartbeat later, Jasper's small flame went out as well. For a few moments there was silence as the ponies recovered their breath. Trixie glanced at Jasper, but the unicorn colt had his eyes closed, head hanging, stubby legs trembling with reaction. Behind him, Derpy groaned and waved her forelegs aimlessly, and Dinky was suddenly there. Have to act while we're still awake, Trixie thought; now that the immediate danger was past, the stress of the day was rapidly catching up with her. It would be worse for the young ones, she knew. They had to do something to protect themselves from the wolves; standing watch was flatly impossible. Inspired by Jasper's performance, she decided that a campfire would be the best possible thing under the circumstances. She and Jasper quickly collected some wood, the colt keeping a watchful eye out while Trixie grabbed whatever fallen wood she could see with her magic and hauled it back into the cave. They saw no sign of timber wolves or other dangers, but they did not linger to be certain; as soon as Trixie judged she had enough wood to last until morning, they retreated back into the cave. Derpy was sitting up and rubbing her head, with Dinky tending to her. Relieved to see that the pegasus did not seem permanently injured, Trixie turned her attention to starting a fire. She broke the longer branches up into convenient lengths and built a small cone of wood, then hesitated and turned to Jasper. “Jasper? Would you light the fire?” Jasper blinked his yellow eyes at her. “Me? But . . . why don't you do it?” Trixie hesitated, a half-dozen pat replies crossing her mind, then decided that none would serve. “Because . . . Trixie can't,” she said finally. “But I just saw you –” Jasper gestured towards her horn. Trixie nodded. “It was an illusion,” she said. “Trixie has . . . never had any skill with fire magic. Trixie has tried,” she added ruefully, “but her talents do not lie in that direction. “So you see,” she said quietly, “you can do something that the Great and Powerful Trixie cannot.” The admission did not hurt nearly as much as she'd expected it to. Jasper blinked again, clearly uncertain of how to take this, but stepped gamely to the cone of wood and touched his horn to it. He frowned with concentration and and was still for several minutes; then a tiny curl of smoke drifted up from the wood. Abruptly, a small bloom of flame appeared, and the dry wood caught and began to burn. The four ponies gathered around the fire, Derpy and Dinky huddled together on one side, Jasper and Trixie forming the other two points of a triangle. Dinky dug into her mother's saddlebags and distributed the food, including several battered muffins. Derpy did not object this time; indeed, she hardly seemed to notice. All her attention was focused on her small daughter, and she often extended a hoof or a wing to touch Dinky, as though reassuring herself that the filly was truly there. Despite her bandaged wing, bumped head, and generally disheveled appearance, she wore an expression of quiet contentment. There was silence for a time, broken only by the crackle of the flames. Dinky fell asleep, curled against her mother, and Derpy's eyes acquired a glazed look. Trixie felt tired as she had not in years, but somehow she wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet. She glanced sidelong at Jasper, and saw him lying like a cat, chin on his forelegs, his expression pensive. She remembered his speech from earlier, about the hardships of growing up in Promise, and something clicked in her memory. “The Filii Terram,” Trixie said softly. Jasper and Derpy looked up. “Trixie remembers now. It's from the Old Equestrian; it means 'Children of Earth.' Earth pony zealots, who think any crossing of the breeds is a sin.” She eyed Derpy and Dinky. “They'd love you two,” she added dryly. “Some ponies are like that,” Derpy said simply, and spread her uninjured wing over her filly. It occurred to Trixie that Derpy, with her unusual eyes, absent-minded attitude, and unicorn daughter, must have seen her share of such such feelings. Somehow, it didn't seem to have altered her sunny outlook on life. “That's them, all right,” Jasper agreed. “They said my mom must have – done bad things to have a unicorn son.” He glanced at the sleeping Dinky Hooves. “I never knew any other unicorns until Dinky showed up.” Unspoken was his real meaning: I never had any friends. Trixie felt unfamiliar emotions stirring in her, thinking of such a lonely foalhood. “I guess she'll be leaving,” Jasper continued forlornly. “She said she was only staying in Promise until her mom found the address she was looking for.” Derpy nodded sadly. “Is it really that bad?” Trixie asked. Jasper shook his head. “I guess not,” he said tonelessly. “I mean, nopony's really all that mean . . . the adults, anyway. Brass is an old sourpuss, but he doesn't stand for fighting or anything like that. The rest . . . it's just foals, calling names.” “Names?” “My name,” he clarified. “It's stupid. They say it's a donkey name, that my father must've been a donkey. 'Jass is an ass, Jass is an ass,' ” he quoted bitterly. Trixie had had more than her share of experience with hecklers, and foalish insults had long since lost any power to hurt her feelings, but she keenly remembered her early days on the stage. How much worse must it be for a little colt without anypony to stand up for him? A colt who seemed to half-believe the insults, who called himself 'useless'? She smiled gently at him. “Do you know what your name means, Jasper?” When he shook his head, she continued. “It means treasure. Your mother must have thought a great deal of you to name you that.” “Really?” “Cross my heart,” she said, tracing an X over her chest with one hoof. “And you are a treasure. You kept your head and helped Dinky, and you saved her from the river serpent.” Jasper looked away, but Trixie continued “You're the one who thought of the caves. You're the one who conjured fire to drive off the timber wolves. Do you know how rare it is for a unicorn to do magic at your age?” He looked back at her. “It is?” She nodded. “I am very impressed.” “But . . . Elder Granite and the rest, they say it's wicked and wrong.” “What do they know?” she said dismissively. “Hidebound zealots, afraid to look beyond their little fields. But you are a unicorn, Jasper, and unicorns have magic.” Her own horn glowed briefly for emphasis. Jasper laid his chin on his fore-hooves again, staring sightlessly into the fire. “But I wasn't smart and brave like you're saying,” he said in a quiet tone. “I was scared.” Trixie glanced over at Derpy, who had curled around her daughter and appeared to have fallen asleep. “Do you want to know a secret?” she asked in a low voice. Jasper eyed her and nodded without changing his position. Trixie leaned close to the colt. “Trixie was scared, too.” “You were? But . . . the way you talked to that serpent . . .” “Never let them see you sweat,” she told him. “Trixie learned that when she was about your age. That's half the secret to being successful on the stage.” “What's the other half?” “Never reveal your secrets,” Trixie said with a smirk. Jasper blinked at her for a moment, then laughed. The laugh turned into an enormous yawn, and the colt blinked sleepily, then closed his eyes. Trixie levitated more wood into the crackling fire, then glanced sleepily around at her companions. Derpy and Dinky were curled into a single gray-and-blonde ball, and Jasper had faded into his own dreams. Trixie was tired to her bones, but found herself unable to sleep; the events of the day kept playing themselves over in her mind. She stared at the dancing flames, thinking about Jasper, and Promise. All she had wanted was to find him, return him, and be on her way. She had been forced to take the job in the first place, and even Sheriff Brass had given her an easy way out. So why was she hesitating? She had already gone above and beyond what anypony could have expected. She had found two missing foals, and restored one to her loving mother. And the other . . . She glanced at Jasper. The colt was sound asleep, but even the comforting warmth of the fire could not entirely fend off the chill drafts that crept through the cave. He made no sound of complaint, only curled into a tighter ball. With a sigh, Trixie got to her hooves and crept quietly across to where Jasper slept. Settling down beside him as silently as she could, she spread her torn, stained cape to cover them both. Still asleep, Jasper nuzzled against her side. Before she could clear her mind, sleep claimed Trixie as well.
Chapter 6Chapter 6 It was surprisingly easy to get clear of Dusky Dale in the morning. As the shadows faded and the patches of golden sunlight grew, the four ponies made their way to the southeast wall of the valley. The slope was steep, but not as bad as they'd feared, and between Trixie's magic and the foals' youthful agility, they made their way safely to the higher ground. The walk back to where Trixie's wagon was hidden was a quiet one. Derpy and Dinky seemed content just to be near each other, while Jasper's attitude was one of resignation. For herself, Trixie was distracted by her inner thoughts. She had awakened with the dim outline of a plan in mind, and it had slowly solidified as the morning wore on. When they reached the wagon, Dinky turned awkwardly to Jasper. “I guess I have to go now,” she said sadly. “Um . . . goodbye. Maybe I can come visit you again some time.” “Yeah,” Jasper agreed without enthusiasm. “Wait a minute, Derpy,” said Trixie, glancing at the other mare. “Trixie has one more errand in Promise. Trixie would . . . appreciate it if you would accompany her.” Dinky looked surprised, but Derpy simply smiled. “Of course we'll help!” the pegasus agreed. Trixie slipped into her harness, after first herding the two foals into the wagon itself. “Stay inside,” she insisted, “and don't come out until Trixie calls you. And don't go digging through Trixie's equipment!” The weight of the wagon was comforting against Trixie's shoulders, and to her surprise she found herself enjoying Derpy's company as well. The walleyed pegasus was relentlessly cheerful, as though, with her little muffin safe again, nothing bad could happen in all of Equestria. Dinky herself had proven to be smart and capable, far more that Trixie would have anticipated. In mild surprise, Trixie realized that she was thinking of the other ponies, not as mere traveling companions, but as friends. And then there was Jasper, who had performed admirably under intense pressure, keeping his head, manifesting his magic, and risking his life – twice – to save somepony else. He was truly a special colt, Trixie thought, and she wondered how he had developed as he had in a place like Promise. Her thoughts turned darker. Promise, you have a lot to answer for. The unicorn with her gaudy wagon and the pegasus with a bandaged wing attracted a bit of attention as they walked through Promise's gates again, and not all the gazes were friendly. Several ponies took one look at her and galloped off. Good, thought Trixie. Tell everypony. The Great and Powerful Trixie is about to give you a second performance. They reached the town common, and Trixie ducked her head inside the wagon to retrieve some supplies and mutter some low-voiced instructions. As Derpy watched curiously, she unfolded her portable stage and set it up, not bothering with most of the usual decorations. She arranged a trio of fireworks – two Skycrackers and a Blue Nimbus – within easy reach, double-checked the contents of her cloak, and stepped onto the stage. A small crowd had already gathered, a couple of dozen earth ponies with expressions ranging from bemused to hostile. More were trickling in as word spread, but Trixie did not see the one she was particularly interested in. Very well. With a minor spell she had done so often it was second nature now, she touched alight the fuses of the fireworks. The two Skycrackers shot upwards with an enormous hiss, to burst with a deafening double explosion high above the houses of Promise. A second later, the Blue Nimbus erupted in a massive ring of pale blue stars, which faded slowly as they drifted to earth. Normally, Trixie would never have touched off her fireworks so early, or in that particular combination . . . but this was not a normal show. “Citizens of Promise!” she called loudly, weaving another minor spell to make her voice carry clearly. “Gather 'round! The Great and Powerful Trixie has returned, and she has news that all of you need to hear!” More ponies appeared, drawn by the explosions and by Trixie's speech. Scanning the crowd, Trixie caught sight of Sheriff Brass, shadowed by the gawky form of his deputy. She smiled darkly. Showtime. “Ponies of Promise!” she began dramatically, swirling her cape for effect. “Two days ago the Great and Powerful Trixie came among you, seeking to show you some of the most amazing unicorn magic in all of Equestria. And while here, in your town, Trixie discovered a problem. A foal had gone missing, a colt, an orphan. Nopony knew where he could be found . . . not that anypony was trying particularly hard to find him.” That earned her a few glowers, but she ignored them and continued on. “Trixie was asked to seek out the foal, using her incredibly powerful magic. Alas, she found the trail, and it lead straight into the dreadful danger of Dusky Dale! Surely the foal was lost . . . or so it seemed!” Deputy Flute was making his way through the crowd toward her, but Brass was simply watching. Trixie gave them part of her attention as she focused on the crowd as a whole. “But Trixie was not without resources! Undaunted, she pressed on, and what did she find?” She gestured to Derpy, who was standing beside the stage, blinking. “She found that the colt – Jasper – was not the first foal to be lost!” An accusing hoof pointed towards Sheriff Brass. “A mare, a mother, came to your sheriff in tears, seeking her lost filly. She begged for help. She was met with insults and scorn, and turned away.” Brass had the grace to look embarrassed, and several ponies shot him startled looks; apparently this hadn't been generally known before. Flute glared at her. “Accompanied only by this mare, the Great and Powerful Trixie descended into the darkling depths of Dusky Dale, and there she found . . . the foals!” She gestured to her wagon, tugging the doors open with with her magic. On cue, Dinky popped out, followed a second later by Jasper. The two unicorns stood together, blinking uncertainly at the crowd. There was a collective gasp from the townsponies, and Sheriff Brass's face seemed to be caught between three different expressions at once. Deputy Flute stopped in his tracks, glancing from Trixie to Brass in confusion. “Yes!” Trixie went on. “Trixie found them. Not the sheriff, the pony responsible for ensuring the safety of his community. Not the wise mares and brave stallions of the Filii Terram. They were only unicorns, after all. Who cares if they're lost? Who cares if they perish, alone in the wildlands?” “It wasn't like that!” somepony in the crowd called out. “It's not our fault!” said somepony else. “We didn't –” “You can't –” “Silence!” bellowed the showmare, cutting off the rising babel of voices. A dozen feet away, Deputy Flute cleared his throat importantly and swaggered forward. Without bothering to look at him, Trixie gestured with one hoof. A half-dozen bolts of lightning lanced down with a staccato crack! striking the ground all around the lanky earth pony. Flute halted, his gray face going pale. “Trixie had intended to return young Jasper to his . . . loving home,” Trixie continued. “But since it seems nopony in Promise actually values the life of a courageous young pony . . .” She turned to Jasper, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “Jasper,” she said in a quieter voice, “would you like to come away with . . . me? It's not an easy life, but it's never a dull one. And Trixie promises – I promise – you will never be alone.” Jasper blinked rapidly, his expression torn between wonder and disbelief. “You – you mean it?” he managed. “Of course,” Trixie replied. “My little treasure.” Jasper nodded, unable to speak. Then he leaped onto the stage and pressed himself hard against Trixie. She laid a fore-hoof on his back, her eyes closing. “Now, hold on there a minute!” came the voice of Sheriff Brass. Trixie turned back to the crowd, her own expression darkening. “I'm sure this is very touching and all,” went on Brass, “but the fact is, young mare, you were paid to find this colt and return him to Promise. Now, what we –” He was cut off as a pouch of bits smacked him in the face. “Trixie does not want your money,” the blue unicorn declared acidly. “Trixie utterly rejects your 'generous' offer, as you – as all of you – have rejected Jasper. And since it has been made abundantly clear that Promise is not, and never has been, a home to him, he is free to travel wherever he wishes.” Trixie glared around at the crowd, catching the eyes of several ponies. Their expressions ranged from hostile to uneasy to mildly embarrassed. Horn glowing, Trixie created an aura of glittering blue around herself as she reared to her full height. “The Great and Powerful Trixie was tempted – sorely tempted – to do Celestia a favor and remove this blighted burg from the face of Equestria.” She saw several faces blanch, and smiled darkly. That's right, Trixie can do that . . . as far as you know. “Clearly, there is nothing in this town that is keeping with the Teachings of the Sisters. Nothing of the virtues that have made Equestria great. Nothing of value . . . now.” Quite deliberately, she angled her head towards Jasper. Muttering broke out from the crowd, but now it sounded more worried than angry. Trixie spread her fore-hooves, generating a flash of blue light. “But!” she said loudly, “then Trixie thought of a more fitting punishment. Something more permanent. Something more . . . appropriate.” She looked at the crowd, slowly and deliberately catching the eyes of one pony after another. Few held her gaze for long. Last of all she met Sheriff Brass's eyes, and saw fear in them. “Trixie is going . . . to leave you here,” she said, slowly and deliberately. “To go about your petty lives, to grow old, and eventually, to die. And Trixie is going to leave you with this knowledge: you all, each and every one of you, abandoned two foals to die. Because of your fear. Because of your cowardice. And you will have to live with that truth about yourselves, every minute of every day, forever.” With a swirl of her cape, the Great and Powerful Trixie turned and strode dramatically off her stage, and not a pony raised a hoof to stop her. Well, that went better than Trixie had expected. The day was rapidly warming, but the road east of Promise had never looked better to Trixie. She ambled along at an easy pace, her wagon trundling after her. Derpy walked by her side, her wing still bandaged, one eye on the road ahead and the other on the sky. Dinky and Jasper, filled with high spirits, were chasing each other up and down the road, circling the wagon and the two mares. Trixie had been alone for a long time, but that was over now. Derpy and Dinky would be traveling with her until they reached Bridledown, and Jasper . . . Jasper would be with her for a lot longer than that. Trixie had never been responsible for another pony before, and the thought was both intimidating and comforting. The foals tore across the road in front of the two mares. Trixie snorted, but, catching a glimpse of Derpy's expression, felt her irritation melt away. Derpy was watching her unicorn daughter with a look of pure contentment on her face. Following her gaze, Trixie watched Jasper as he ran and laughed with Dinky, diving in and out of the bushes that lined the road. She found herself smiling, simply taking pleasure in his obvious joy. Maybe it was worth it, she thought. The last couple of days; the danger, the terror, the stress, the humiliation . . . maybe it was worth it after all. Abruptly, the foals were standing in front of Trixie, staring up at her. The two mares came to a halt, regarding them curiously. “And what do you two want?” said Trixie. “Dinky asked me – I was wondering –” Jasper fumbled for a moment. “Are you going to teach me magic?” “Of course Trixie will teach you magic,” she replied. “You have a great natural talent already. We can start your lessons tonight.” “And do you think I could be a showpony someday, like you?” “If you want to,” Trixie said, “Trixie has no doubt that you will make the name of Jasper the Magnificent famous throughout all of Equestria and beyond.” Jasper smiled at her, eyes shining. He suddenly hugged her leg, then as quickly took off down the road again, Dinky at his heels. Their voice came floating back to the two mares, shouting something about “timber wolves” and “Jasper the Magnificent” and “Dinky the Wise.” Trixie resumed her pace, Derpy walking beside her. My life has been turned completely upside-down, Trixie thought. I've made enemies of an entire town, probably did wonders for my reputation, and I have a huge new responsibility that's going to last for the next ten or twelve years at the least. No more freedom. No more 'Trixie looking out for Trixie.' Jasper's laughter sounded from somewhere up ahead. Yes . . . it was definitely worth it. Infinite thanks to my friend and brony Quilldipper for suggestions and editing. This story was inspired by Poor Yorick's beautiful picture, "Her Greatest Treasure," seen here: http://twentypercentcooler.net/post/show/4068 Thanks for reading!
