“A leader is one who, out of madness or goodness, volunteers to take upon himself the woe of the people. There are few men so foolish, hence the erratic quality of leadership in the world.”

John Updike

Pinkie Pie and Rarity strolled down main street: the village now had several such streets, all arranged in a self-repeating pattern that branched out from the middle of town like a cross-section of a piece of broccoli. They’d explored as close to the library as they dared: the crowds were thicker here, and the storefronts were all busy.

Pinkie Pie stared at the dull grey ponies walking back and forth. “They look so sad... so lonely.”

“I know how it must make you feel,” Rarity whispered, “but we’ve got to keep this discreet. We’ll help them soon enough.”

“I know, but whenever I see a sad pony it just makes me wanna—”

“No!” she hissed. “You are not to sing a song! Not here, and not now!”

“Not even a little one?”

“I absolutely forbid it!” Rarity leaned close and lowered her voice. “We must remain incognito and a song will only call attention to us. Please, Pinkie... I promise we’ll help them all.”

Pinkie Pie tapped her own head. “I know it up here, but it just seems so wrong down here.” She tapped her chest, right over her heart.

“You can do this. All you have to do is not sing a song for ten minutes. That’s all.”

Pinkie Pie bit her lip. Her eyes darted side to side and a single bead of sweat trickled along her brow.

Rarity patted her cheek. “Think of it as a game. Like... charades. You love charades, right?”

“Yeah. A game.”

“That’s the way! Now we’d best get moving again. There’s no time to waste.”

They continued walking down the street, keeping their heads down. After a while, Pinkie Pie glanced at a nearby street vendor: a vegetable stand with used books stacked in baskets and trays.

“I’m pretty sure we passed that bookstore a minute ago.”

“Every store in town is a bookstore. They all look the same.”

“No,” she said, “I’m pretty sure we passed the exact same one. Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course not. All the streets are different.” Rarity clenched her teeth. “How do you just move a street like this? How is this possible?”

Pinkie Pie paused to look at the pony standing behind the used-book stand. “I’m gonna ask for directions.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Pinkie said, “but we don’t have time to wander around. And we’ll have to talk to somepony eventually, right?”

“Then make it quick. And be careful.”

Pinkie Pie walked up to the stand. The owner had an open book on in front of her and was staring at it’s pages, glassy-eyed. Pinkie Pie cleared her throat, quietly at first, then a second time. The vendor snapped out of her trance and looked up.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

You can do this, Pinkie. It’s just a game. She let out a drawn-out sigh and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m just... looking for something. I was in my house, watching paint dry, and now I’m out here. All my days are like that... never an exciting moment for me.”

“I have just the thing!” the vendor said, smiling. “I have a comedic detective novel right here that’s a real page-turner, and simply hilarious. It’s the third in a series, but you can start the books in any order.”

Pinkie Pie stared at the vendor’s pleasant smile. “Oh. Um... thanks. But I don’t think that’s what I need right now.”

“What do you need? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, I sorta... need directions. I’m a little lost.”

“You’re not from around here? Where are you from?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all! I totally live here. I’ve lived here all my life. This is just the first time I’ve ever left my parents house. The house I was born in. Ever.”

The vendor quirked an eyebrow. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a professional paint-drying-watcher. I work from home. That’s right... nothing exciting ever happens to me.”

“Well that’s no way to live!” The vendor passed her the detective novel. “Here, take it for free. Nopony should ever be that bored.”

Pinkie Pie stared down at the gift. “Wow... really? But what about you? Don’t you get bored?”

“Nah. I’m having a great day today!”

“But just now, you were kind of... y’know. Bored looking.”

“You know how it is when you get stuck in a really good book. You get so excited about it you just can’t look away. I’m very sorry if I ignored you: I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Pinkie Pie managed a tentative smile. “No, it’s quite all right!”

“So what are you trying to find?”

“There’s a clothing shop I used to visit all the time. Or there used to be... I dunno if it’s still there.”

“Used to visit, huh? While you were living in your parent’s house? All your life?”

“Oh, that? I just... uh, well...”

The bookseller giggled. “You’re a real laugh riot, you know that? You shouldn’t be afraid to be silly now and then. If you can’t laugh, you might as well cry!”

Pinkie Pie’s left ear tilted up. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” She leaned over the table and pointed down the street. “There’s a couple clothing shops in town, but only one worth talking about. Go that way, down History avenue, and take a left at the street between F and G. You’ll find the shop in the middle of the big circular clearing that separates the Science and Philosophy districts.”

“Science and... what?”

“It’s pretty hard to miss, but I can give you the building’s ISBN number just in case.”

“No, that’s... fine. I’ll be fine.” Pinkie Pie turned away from the stall and walked back towards Rarity.

“Hope I see you around,” the bookseller called after her. “I’m sure you’ll make lots and lots of new friends in no time!”

The directions took Pinkie Pie and Rarity even closer to the heart of the village, where the streets were busier and the buildings were much taller. Huge vertical banners hung from flagposts and the sides of buildings, but their surfaces were alive with color and motion: they displayed long scrolling lists of information. They came to the circular field and saw Carousel Boutique at last: Apart from the grey paint and striking light, it was the same as ever. A constant flow of ponies moved in and out carrying packages or pulling small carts.

Rarity walked up the front steps, wary of the long lines. Nopony complained when they cut ahead and went inside. She stopped in the doorway and stared at her home, slack jawed. The central hall was filled with long rows of workbenches, and over a hundred ponies were sitting in identical rows with their manes and tails tied up in hair-nets. They all wore paper breathing masks to protect against the mist of tiny cotton particles that hung in the air. A constant stream of garments flowed down each table, with each pony performing a single action, over and over, again and again, before passing it to the next pony.

“My boutique,” Rarity whispered.

Pinkie Pie leaned her head from side to side, staring at the perfectly synchronized tables. “It’s like watchin’ two mirrors facing each other...”

“My boutique has been turned into a sweatshop?” Rarity hissed.

“Absolutely not,” a new voice interjected. They turned to see a grey unicorn with an other-grey mane and tail, sternly waving a clipboard at them. “I find that term insulting and derogatory. This textile factory hasn’t failed a single health code since it’s inception and we’ve never had a single complaint from any of our employees.”

Rarity turned to her, but managed to swallowed her displeasure. “This ‘factory,’ as you call it. It used to be a house, did it not?”

“Probably, yes. We still rent the upper level out as a residency. Some of the workers prefer to live here over the weekdays, since commission tends to pay more.”

“I’m looking for a young...” Rarity trailed off as she stared into the unicorn’s eyes.

“What?”

Rarity’s ears flicked up. “Lyra? Lyra Heartstrings!?”

“Yes,” she said. “Do I know you?”

“Do I know you? We’re—” Rarity twitched as Pinkie Pie kicked her ankle. “I... I mean... I’ve heard of you. That’s all. I’m a big fan of your music.”

Lyra frowned at her. “Do I look like a musician? I have a real job to worry about.”

“Ah... yes. Of course. Regardless. I’m trying to find a very young unicorn, and I think she might live here.”

“Are you mad!? What kind of monster would force children to work in a factory?”

Rarity took a step back. “No, it’s not—”

Pinkie Pie pointed at a nearby table. “What do you make here?”

“Clothing,” Lyra said. “What else?”

Rarity gazed at the garments being assembled. “But they seem so... uniform.”

“Well that is because they are uniforms. We are the premier bulk supplier of uniforms for all of Ponyville. The government, the police, the militia, the commercial district, and the educational system all come to us as clients.”

Rarity and Pinkie Pie both looked up at her, sharply. “The School?”

Lyra nodded to a nearby row of display mannequins sized for small colts or fillies. They were all dressed in tiny little suits, replete with matching book bags, caps, and neckerchiefs.

“Yes, of course. Unisex uniforms are mandatory for all students.”

“When did that happen?” said Pinkie Pie.

“What are you talking about? It’s always been that way.”

“If a function has an integral, it is said to be integrable.”

“If a function has an integral, it is said to be integrable.”

“...The integral may be a function of more than one variable...”

“The integral may be a function of more than one variable.”

“...And the domain of integration may be an area, volume, or higher dimensional reigon...”

“And the domain of integration may be an area, volume, or higher dimensional reigon...”

Sweetie Belle watched as Headmistress Cheerilee walked back and forth at the front of the classroom, leading them all with her voice. She wore the same formal suit and skirt as the other teachers and her hair was done up in the usual bun, but it looked different on her. None of the other teachers were quite so... imposing. She was always friendly and polite whenever they talked to her outside of school, but the moment she entered the classroom she became stern and unyielding.

The headmistress continued to lecture, holding a book in front of herself as she marched back and forth. She didn’t need the book—she wasn’t even looking in it—because she was already an authority on just about everything, but there were appearances to keep. Cheerilee knew the importance of a formal, dignified attitude and Sweetie Belle would have given anything to be that confident. Any of her classmates would have. They were so lucky to have the best teacher in the whole school.

“Very good, class,” she said and set the book on her desk. “Now give me thirty repetitions while I go and collect todays test papers from the printing room. I have high hopes for this quiz... especially considering last week’s lackluster performance. If even a single one of you scores less than ninety, again, you’ll all be on chimney-sweep duty for the week.”

The class continued to chant the same few lines, over and over, staring straight ahead, even after the Headmistress left the room. After the seventh rep an errant noise interrupted Sweetie Belle’s thoughts. She tried her best to ignore it: She didn’t want to lose track of her place in the chanting and she didn’t dare interrupt the other students.

Sweetie Belle felt something light strike her head, and she glanced up to see a paper airplane stuck between the curls of her hair and the brim of her cap. Her heart raced. Impossible! Nopony in our class would do such a thing! Not a single one of us! She glanced to her left and saw to her horror that the window was open. It was never open.

“Psst!”

Sweetie Belle flinched as she caught sight of a pony peeking in through the window. She snapped her eyes up front and kept quiet... the headmistress reserved her most severe chastisements for ponies who looked out of windows.

“Psst! Sweetie Belle!”

“Go away!” she hissed back. “We’re trying to learn in here!”

“Read the note! It’s super important!”

“Our class doesn’t pass or read notes,” she said, sanctimoniously.

“Sweetie Bell, it’s me! Pinkie Pie!”

“I don’t care if you’re Johann Carl Friedrich Gait himself! Class is in session!”

“Wha... who!? Nevermind, just meet us in the playground at recess!”

“I will do no such thing!”

The entire class jumped in their seats as Headmistress Cheerilee stormed in and slammed the door behind her. “Sweetie Belle! Would you care to explain why that window is open, and why you appear to be looking out of it?”

Sweetie Belle sat up in her chair as straight as she could. “There was somepony outside, headmistress! She was trying to talk to me!”

Headmistress marched to her desk with a dour frown and plucked the paper airplane out of her mane. “And this?”

“She threw it at me. She said it was a note, but I didn’t read it. I swear there was somepony there! She wasn’t a teacher or a student!”

“Hooves on the table,” headmistress said as she unfolded the paper plane. Sweetie Belle set her front hooves on her desk, open and exposed, and tried not to eye the strip of birch-bark hanging from the headmistress’ belt.

“Very interesting,” she said and folded the letter in a more orderly fashion. “It was proper of you not to read it, but that will be fifty lines after class for interrupting the lesson.”

“That’s all!?” Diamond Tiara said.

Headmistress whipped out her birchbark and smacked Diamond Tiara’s ankle faster than any of them could see. By the time they heard her yelp it was already over.

“That’s two hundred lines for whining.”

“But—”

“An additional eight hundred lines for back-talking! And if you continue to defy your teacher, it’ll be six demerits and a chat with both your parents!”

Tiara straightened up in her seat. “Sorry, headmistress! It won’t happen again!”

“See that it doesn’t,” she said and turned her attention once more to the class as a whole. “The answers to yesterday’s homework are posted on the back wall. I want your work graded and on my desk by the end of the hour, or you’ll all stay in for recess with your heads on your desks.”

The students rose from their seats, row by row, and filed along the back wall. Sweetie Belle gazed at Headmistress Cheerilee while waiting for her turn to rise.

I wanna be just like her when I grow up!

Class ended on schedule and Sweetie Belle walked through the hallway with her friends, Applebloom and Scootaloo. They all sat in the same column so they always filed out of class together. The halls were filled with long lines of students, walking nose to tail, silent and efficient. There was a natural symmetry to it all: an innate order that was easy to go along with once you picked it up.

They reached the school’s side entrance at last and all three of them smiled brightly as they entered the playground. All of the swing sets and see-saws were occupied, all moving together. All the other students had to make do with jump ropes, basketballs and hula hoops: all were standing in perfect lines and columns, jumping their ropes and hula-ing their hoops in perfect symmetry. There was no shouting or yelling or laughing.

“I can’t wait for the field trip tomorrow,” said Scootaloo. “We’re actually going to take a tour of the library! So exciting!”

“I’ve never been in there before,” Applebloom said, “but I know it’s way bigger than the one we have in school. I even heard they have a special room for restoring really old books! Think they’ll let us peek inside?”

“Are you kidding me?” Diamond Tiara walked past with a toss of her head. “The only way you three are getting into the rare books depository is if you’re mopping up the floors.”

Applebloom rolled her eyes. “Just ignore her,” she whispered to her friends.

“You can ignore me all you like. I’ve come to expect that sort of jealousy from my lessers.”

“You’re still a student just like the rest of us,” Scootaloo said. “Just because your mom works at the library, doesn’t make you anything special.”

“My mother,” she sneered, “works at the reference desk of the library, which makes her the most important pony in town. And as soon as I graduate from this dirty little backwater, I’ll be working side by side with her.”

“You gotta graduate first,” Applebloom muttered. “Flunk any book reports, lately?”

“Petty insults, now?” Diamond Tiara lifted her nose with a sniff. “Spoken like a true blue-collar prole.”

“Don’t say that! My family’s paper mill is the most important business in town! There wouldn’t be any books or paper at all if my family weren’t around!”

“I’m glad to hear you know your place, then. Making books instead of organizing them.” She tossed her mane and turned away. “Don’t feel too bad about your blatant inadequacies. We can’t all be librarians, you know.”

Applebloom ground her teeth and watched her walk away. “I can’t believe she actually talked back to the Headmistress. You think she would have learned her lesson a long time ago.”

“I don’t think she really cares about her education at all,” Scootaloo said. “And it’s a sure bet she doesn’t care about being a librarian. She’s just in it for the glitz and glamor.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle said with a sigh. “Remember when she took over the book club? It used to be so much fun before she ruined it all.”

“I really miss that club,” said Applebloom.

Scootaloo’s ear pricked up and a grin formed on her face. “I know how we can show her up: let’s start a club of our own! A really good one, too!”

“Two book clubs?” Applebloom gasped. “Can we even do that?”

“No-no-no,” she said, “we won’t call it a book club... we’ll call it a debating club! Instead of reading books, we’ll read old essays and manuscripts about science and history and stuff! Then we can hold discussions and debates about ’em!”

“I dunno,” Sweetie Belle said, “Diamond Tiara hates the really fun stuff like that. What if she tries to stop us?”

“Not if,” Applebloom said. “When.”

Scootaloo grinned. “Then we let her! When she tries to complain, we’ll challenge her to a debate about it. If she backs off, we win. If she accepts, then she has to go through with a debate... and our club is going to have the best debaters in the whole school! We can’t lose!”

“A debating club, huh?” said Sweetie Belle. “That’s just crazy enough to work! You’re such a maverick, Scoots!”

“Maybe so, but you know I can’t do it without you! Whaddya say, girls?”

The three of them put their hooves together. “Cutie Number Crusaders, debate club organizers!”

“Sweetie Belle, is that you? It is! Oh thank goodness I’ve found you!”

The fillies turned to the new voice: a unicorn, with an earth pony close behind her. They rushed over and huddled close, glancing about.

Sweetie Belle looked them over. “Um... okay. Were we playing hide and seek or something? Sorry if I forgot about it.”

“Oh, my sweet little darling! You must have been so frightened without anypony to watch over you! Everything will be better soon, I promise!”

“Do you know this lady?” Applebloom said.

“Know me!?” the unicorn said, indignant. “She’s my little sister!”

“Wait a second,” Sweetie Belle said, “you’re the weirdo that was peeking through the window of our classroom! Do you have any idea how much trouble I got into because of you!?”

“This is more important that school. You need to—”

All three of the fillies stood bolt upright, eyes wide. “More important than school!?”

“You’ve got to remember!” she said. “Things weren’t always like this! Ponyville used to be a happy place, bright and vibrant!”

Scootaloo shrugged. “We are happy here.”

The two mares stared down at them, aghast.

Applebloom stepped up and pointed a hoof at them. “What are a pair of grown-ups doing in a playground, anyways? You should go away.”

“Not without my little sister!”

The unicorn set a hoof on Sweetie Belle’s back but she backed away. “What are you talking about? I don’t have any sisters. I never did.”

“No... no! Sweetie, please, you have to remember!”

Scootaloo jumped in front of her, head high, wings out. “Back off, lady! Don’t make me take you down!”

“No-no-no!” Applebloom rushed to her friend and held her back. “You know fighting is against the rules no matter who started it. Let’s just forget about this, okay?”

“No way,” said Scootaloo. “They’re up to something, I just know it!”

The earth pony rushed forward and hunkered down, looking at them eye-to-eye. “We’re not up to something, okay? You gotta believe us! We’re trying to rescue you!”

Applebloom set a hoof on her nose and glared at her intently. “Listen, you: We don’t need your help. If the faculty sees you, you’ll be in a whole world of trouble. So go on! Get! Now!”

The unicorn stamped a hoof. “Sweetie Belle, you will listen to your big sister! You will come with us, and you will stay somewhere safe and sound while we deal with this once and for all!”

Sweetie Belle gasped in horror. “Are you crazy!? We have a language exam tonight! I’m not gonna miss that for anything!”

“Not even for a party?” The earth pony said, smiling broadly. “How about we throw you a super-cool party, just for the three of you? There’ll be cake and games and presents and everything! Isn’t that better than school?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well how about candy, then? If you kids come with us right now and promise not to tell anypony else about it, we’ll give you all the candy you—” she cut herself off and scrunched her eyes shut. “Oooh wow, that sounded really bad. I think I creeped myself out.”

“We’re going now, and that’s that.” The unicorn’s horn glowed and Sweetie Belle lifted into the air. “You’ll thank me for this later, Sweetie. I promise.”

“Ahh! Put me down, put me down!” she bicycled her legs in a panic and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Strangers! Ahhh! Strangers!”

Scootaloo pointed at Pinkie Pie, buzzing her wings. “Strangers in the playground, everypony! Strangers!”

“It’s not like that!” the earth pony said. “It’s me, Pinkie Pie! Don’t you remember me? I threw birthday parties for all of you! I’m your friend!”

The nearby children turned to look at the commotion and immediately added their voices to the chant. “Strangers! Strangers! Strangers!” The two mares glanced about in shock as a crowd of children gathered around, pointing hooves and shouting together.

“No-no-no, listen!” the earth pony said, “It’s okay! Everything’s okay! We’re here to help! how about I sing a song for you? Would you like that?”

“Look, it’s the headmistress!” Scootaloo called out. “You’re sure in trouble now! I bet she gives you a spanking, even though you’re a grown up!”

Applebloom looked over to the school entrance where several teachers, Headmistress Cheerilee included, had gathered. She gasped when she caught sight of the two stallions standing next to her: a pair of tall, muscular pegasus wearing brown tweed suits and big, horn-rimmed glasses. They scanned the crowd and unfurled their wings as soon as they caught sight of the obvious trespassers.

“The tweedcoats!” Applebloom shouted. “You gotta get out of here now! If they catch you, you’re done for!”

The earth pony looked at her, eyes tear-streaked. “We can’t leave you!”

“We don’t need yer help! Go on! Get!”

The unicorn grabbed the earth pony and charged away, moving as quickly as she could without hurting the crowd of tiny, screaming children. The two mares galloped off through the playground, tearing divots out of the perfectly manicured grass. Everywhere they went, children pointed at them and called out their chant. The tweedcoats unfurled their mighty wings and took to the air, and when the children saw them fly overhead they pointed out where they’d seen the strangers go, like paperclips on pegs following a magnet.

The three fillies gathered together and watched as the strangers and their pursuers went out of view. Teachers rushed into the playground, desperate to make sure every child was safe and accounted for. The whole school had been brought to the gymnasium to practice the chant that would keep them all safe but this was the first time they’d actually had to use it. It was the most exciting thing that had happened in a long time and they would probably be given the rest of the day off.

“Do you know them?” Scootaloo said.

“Which one?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Either.”

Sweetie Belle simply shook her head, puzzled.

“They’re nopony,” Applebloom said. “They’re nothing but troublemakers. It’s best to just forget you ever saw ’em.”

“Might as well,” Scootaloo said with a frown. “If the tweedcoats are after them we’ll never see ’em again.”

Rarity and Pinkie Pie built up to a full gallop and leapt over the playground fence, landing in a narrow alley between two brick walls. They tore through the alley, knocking over a neatly organized stack of trash cans and bursting into the main street.

“We need to lose them!” Rarity called back. “Quickly, there’s no time to lose!”

“How!?” Pinkie Pie shouted. “They’re pegasus! They can fly!”

“We just need to escape them for a moment! As soon as they lose sight of us, we—”

A chorus of panicked screams filled the streets behind them: their pegasus pursuers had burst out of the alley, and the crowd stampeded in terror as they wheeled overhead like vultures. They caught sight of them immediately and went into a low dive.

“Move!” Rarity screamed. “This way, there’s no time!”

Pinkie Pie chased after her, desperate to keep up. The crowd parted ahead of them, terrified of the strange commotion that had shattered their daily, dazed routine. Ponies abandoned their carts and dropped their baskets and bags, pulling their children to safety. They weren’t afraid of the two interlopers at all. It was the pursuers that filled them with dread.

“The backstreets! Quickly!”

They skidded into a hard right turn and dove between two buildings. The pegasus swept in behind them, but the narrow spaces and tight turns delayed them for several precious seconds. Rarity and Pinkie Pie slipped around one corner, then another, then lost sight of them. A moment later a pair of dark shadows flew across the sliver of sky above: the sound of their wingbeats was strong and deep and their glasses glinted like an owl’s eyes.

“Did we lose’em?” Pinkie Pie said, gasping for breath. “I think we lost ’em.”

“For now, but we’d best keep moving.”

They both straightened up as a shrill whistle echoed off the brick walls. A strong, disciplined voice called out a command, and a series of crackling explosions sounded off. The echoing walls made it impossible to tell where the noises were coming from, but it sounded close.

“That noise,” Rarity said. “It sounded like magic. Like somepony casting a magic spell.”

Pinkie Pie perked her ears. “There’s something else, too... another noise.”

“What do you mean? What noise?”

“It doesn’t sound like magic, that’s for sure. It’s like... somepony eating breakfast cereal. Sort of.”

“Breakfast cereal? What could possibly—”

Rarity’s ear twitched as she heard the other sound. It was a heavy, rhythmic crunching, growing louder every second. A whole troop of ponies, unicorns all, turned the corner and charged towards them. Their steel shod hooves pounded against the cobbled stone like heavy rain and the dark alley obscured everything but the outline of their tweed longcoats and the glinting of their glasses.

Rarity and Pinkie Pie shot to their feet without a word and galloped down the other end of the alley. They turned a corner but skidded to a halt as they saw another troop closing in on them from the left: the tweedcoats never moved any faster than a brisk jog but their perfect co-ordination gave them an air of patience... inevitability. The pegasus flew overhead, blowing their whistles and calling out street numbers. At every turn, the sounds of tromping steel drew nearer.

“This place is a maze!” Rarity shouted. “It feels like we’re going in circles!”

“We can’t give up hope! Just keep going, and we’ll—” Pinkie Pie winced as a glint of light caught her eye. She looked ahead, and the glint repeated: somepony up ahead was shining a mirror at them.

“Look at that!” Pinkie Pie said, pulling her along. “Follow it, quick!”

“Follow what? What is it?”

“A friend!”

They galloped on, following the glint of light at every corner. They caught sight of their guide only briefly: the flick of a tail here, the flutter of a coat there, always vanishing around the next corner. When they came at last to a dead end, the figure stood in full view: a young mare wearing a dark trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat that obscured her features entirely. She wore a pair of heavy goggles and had a cloth wrapped around her mouth and neck.

Rarity hesitated as she caught sight of their guide. “She seems a little... shady. Are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” Pinkie Pie said. “I know a friend when I see one!”

Rarity glanced back over her shoulder. “I suppose we can’t be choosy.”

The stranger knelt down near the dead end and pushed one of the cobblestones in the road. A hidden mechanism churned to life and a cellar door opened up in the floor. She hoisted the secret door up and waved them in. “Hurry!” she hissed.

All three of them ran through the door and down a short flight of rickety, uneven stairs. The door sealed shut behind them and plunged them into absolute darkness. The only sounds were heavy breathing and the creaking of the wooden steps under their hooves.

“Who are you?” said Rarity. “Why are you doing this? How did you find out about us?”

“All will be explained later,” the guide hissed. Her voice was only a little less harsh.

“No, not later! We need answers now!”

“Don’t be so rude, Rare! She just saved us. She’s a friend.”

“Oh, is that so? Than what’s with the getup?”

“It’s ‘then,’ ” the guide hissed.

“What?”

“You said ‘than,’ which denotes a relative comparison. You meant to say ‘then.’ ”

Rarity stamped a hoof.  “Oh, that is the last straw! I refuse to be lectured by—”

The guide took off her wide-brimmed hat, revealing the gleaming purple horn of a unicorn. A magic spell lit up their surroundings with pink light. They were in a small cave, surrounded by a gang of ponies all wearing the same disguises: long coats, wide-brimmed hats, and tight goggles and masks.

Pinkie Pie gasped as she saw the face of their guide. “You’re... you!”

The light flared as the unicorn’s spell finished forming. Pinkie Pie’s head swam with vertigo and a deep fatigue overwhelmed her muscles. She fell to the ground, dazed, and the crowd of strangers circled around to peered down at her.

“But I thought... you were... a friend...”

“That was your first mistake.” The lavender unicorn pulled off her mask and nodded to her allies. “Clap them in irons and bring them to the Commander. She’ll want to deal with these ones personally.”

Next Chapter: %i%: Apple family motto: Faithful to the core. Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 57 Minutes