So this is what it feels like to be a dead man.

Above all else, I simply couldn't wrap my head around how absurd the situation was. Everything I'd survived- landing on Equus in the first place, the timberwolves, the sideshow, all the running and hiding, my own suicide attempt, being pulled through a dimensional tear into a literal world of nightmares- had come to this: Being told that I'd become a ticking time bomb, that my unalterable magic absorption property had consigned me to an eventual death by magical explosion. It wasn't as though I could just go somewhere that didn't have magic; the stuff covered the damn planet, even the Everfree, for all that its natural systems resembled Earth in most other ways. Twilight had been able to tell me that I wouldn't “go off” for at least a couple of weeks, but beyond that she would have to take measurements to be sure. She had offered to set up quarters for me in another “clean room”, and while I appreciated the show of generosity, I needed to be somewhere familiar- and the embassy had low enough levels of ambient magic for Twilight to consider it acceptable in the short-term.

Sveti sat on the other end of the couch from me, her head hung low. She was terrified of touching me now, fearful that her own inherent magic might cut seconds off of my life's timer. She couldn't bring herself to look me in the eyes, nor I her, she apparently as certain as I that one glance would reduce us both to crying again. I wanted to “man up”, to try to be the rock of solidity she needed at that moment, but my psyche had been so shredded by all that had happened that I couldn't muster the intestinal fortitude.

“Peter,” she said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I... I want to apologize for how I've been acting lately.”

“I.. what do you mean?”

“It....” She went quiet for a moment, and even without looking at her I knew she was trying to organize her thoughts. “I've wanted to get you home since I knew how you got here, but... once I realized that it was finally going to happen... some small selfish part of me started wanting you to stay, terrified that you'd return to Earth and never come back.” She sighed. “And now... and now you can't go home anyway, and....” I saw her shake her head out of the corner of my eye, choking back a sob. “It's just like what I did to Dad, all over again! I thought I was better than this. You deserve better!”

“Sveti-”

“Peter, this isn't one of those things where you can say 'It's okay' and we move on. I've let you down; I've failed you on the most basic level. I put my selfish desires ahead of what was best for you. Maybe if I hadn't been so upset about the idea of you leaving....”

Her voice trailed off at the touch of my hand on her shoulder; she tried to move away, but I followed her, keeping my contact gentle but insistent, and after a moment she surrendered herself to it. “Sveti,” I said quietly, “you haven't failed me. You never have. If I was going to hate you for the part of you that wanted me to stay... then I'd have to hate myself for the part of me that was going to ask you to come with me.”

She looked up at me in shock. “You were?”

“Yeah. Even knowing what could happen... I hated the thought of leaving you behind. It's hard to even imagine not having you with me now....”

Now it was my turn to trail off, and I let my hand fall onto the couch. Both of us sat there in silence for a moment, until she broke it. “I would have gone with you.”

“I know. That doesn't give me the right to ask.”

I felt her weight shift on the couch as she leaned towards me, gingerly laying one wing over my back. “Yes, it does,” she murmured quietly into my ear. “You have the right to ask whatever you would of me. I can accept or refuse, of course, but you and I have been through too much together for there to be walls between us anymore. Especially... if I have to lose you.”

I looked up to see her gazing at me, the feathers beneath her eyes wet with fresh tears. I put an arm out towards her, only to have her glance at it fearfully. “Sveti,” I said, “I'd probably have to hug a hundred thousand gryphons to match the magic I absorbed from Luna. You're not going to make any real difference. So....” I stretched my hand towards her a little. “...please?”

I actually saw her resistance break, and she almost flung herself at me, burying her head against my chest and wrapping her forelimbs around my stomach. “I'm sorry,” she keened. “I'm so sorry. I just... I... it hurts. It hurts, Peter. I don't want to lose you. You're all I have.”

“Shh.” I stroked her neck gently. “Sveti. Listen.” She went quiet for a moment, apparently waiting for me to say something, but I stayed silent for a little bit longer. “What do you hear?”

“...your voice?”

“Besides that.” I very gently pressed her head against my chest for emphasis.

She caught on. “Your heart.”

“Right. And... so long as that keeps going, then you haven't lost me yet. Do you understand?”

At this point I couldn't tell which one of us I was trying harder to cheer up- but I couldn't keep a small smile off of my face when I heard her give a half-hearted chuckle. “Peter, that... that is the sappiest, the... the corniest, the most greeting-card-bait thing that... that has ever made me love someone.” She jerked a little against me, and a strange sound escaped her beak. “...and great, now I have hiccups,” she groaned.

“C'mere.” I laid out on my side on the couch, and she curled up in her typical catlike fashion alongside me, resting her head on my chest. I pressed the palm of my hand against her back, just past her ribcage- my best estimation of where her diaphragm would be- and began rubbing in gentle circles. “How's that?” I asked.

“It- hic- it's pretty nice,” she murmured in reply.

“It doesn't seem to be helping the hiccups, though.”

“I'll put up with them if it means you keep doing that. Hic.” She settled against me, her eyes closing. “Why can't we just have this, Peter? Why does the world seem so out to get us?” She sighed. “Ugh. Listen to- hic- listen to me and my persecution complex.”

“I think it just might be justified.” I rested my cheek against her head, lightly pressing my fingers into her furred hide. “Sveti?”

“Mmh?”

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I didn't tell you what it was that got to me the most when I was in the Astral Plane, did I?”

“No. Hic- gah.” She shifted herself a little. “I... had a feeling there was something you hadn't told me, but I didn't want to pry. I would like to hear about it if you want to share, though.”

She listened attentively as I described what had happened in that room with the recreations of myself and Luna. “That... that possibility really got to you, didn't it?” she asked quietly. “I know we'd talked about it before, but if that's what it really felt like to you....” Her claw pressed against my side, rubbing lightly.

“It's been in the back of my mind since I found out what Luna had done.” I sighed. “I just... couldn't get past the thought that what I feel for you was planted in my mind.”

She nodded slowly, then arched her neck to look up into my eyes. “Do you believe Luna told you the truth when she said she didn't?”

I nodded. “I'm not sure either of us could've lied to the other in that place. I'm still not happy about how she entered my mind like that, but.... now I understand better what she was thinking, at least.”

“I'm glad.” Her claw gently stroked my back. “I don't blame you for being worried about having your thoughts manipulated, honestly.”

“It isn't just about me, Sveti. You deserve better than manufactured emotions. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

She leaned back again, this time to give me a wide smile. “I have no worries about that,” she told me, tapping my chest lightly with a talon. “Like I said before, I know what's in here.”

I smiled, letting silence fall for a minute or two, during which she settled her head against my chest once more. “It sounds like your hiccups are gone,” I noted.

“Don't take that as an excuse to stop rubbing my back.” I could hear fatigue creeping into her voice, and the combination of her warmth and softness and everything I'd been through during the day were starting to catch up to me as well.

“Sveti?” I murmured.

“Hm?”

“...I'm scared.” My voice wasn't nearly as strong as I would've liked.

She raised her claw to gently run her talons through my hair, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling. “I know,” she said quietly. “It's okay to be. Just remember that you have me to talk to when you're feeling overwhelmed; I'll always listen. I couldn't do anything less for....” She gently laid her wing over my side. “...for the one I love.”

She couldn't have missed how my heart sped up at those words. I laid my head against hers, resting my hand between her shoulders. “I love you too,” I whispered into her ear.

She made a soft, happy sound into my chest and snuggled up against me, and there in the warmth of her feathers and fur, it wasn't long before I dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep, blissfully free of my troubles.

(-)

“...Ennie?”

Quick Service followed the strange sound he'd heard into the pantry, where he found Ensemble huddled in the corner, weeping uncontrollably. “Ennie!” he exclaimed, scrambling to her side. “What happened?! Are you hurt?”

She waved him off with one foreleg, the other wiping at her eyes. “Just... just leave me alone, Quick,” she sobbed. “I don't want to see anypony right now.”

“Ensemble, this isn't like you.” He sat down next to her. “C'mon, talk to me. What's going on?”

She stared up at him in confusion. “You... you didn't hear about what happened to Mister Collins?”

“...what?” He blinked in surprise. “I had today off; I just got back to the embassy. I was looking for a snack to take up to my quarters when I heard you. What happened to Mister Collins?”

He listened in dawning horror as Ensemble related what she'd been told- that Peter's connection to his homeworld had been severed, obliterating his chances of going home, and that due to some complex magical issue, the magic Peter had been absorbing was now building up and threatened to kill him once it reached some as-yet-undiscovered limit. “...sweet Celestia,” he murmured, leaning back against a shelf full of bags of flour. “How could... how could this happen?”

“It's because of stupid ponies.” Ensemble crossed her forelegs over her chest. “They've been out to get Mister Collins and Miss Windwhisper for so long... and now they did this.” She shook her head, turning teary eyes towards him. “What is wrong with us, Quick?!” she demanded.

“What...?”

“With us ponies! We practically lord the whole 'love and tolerance' thing over other species, and then a creature like Mister Collins comes along and we flip the buck out like he's already got his teeth on our throats!”

“Ennie, we're not all like that. What about you and me? I mean... our feelings for him are pretty much the opposite of that.”

“Well, yeah, but... we're not exactly the norm, though, are we?” She sighed, slumping down a little. “Maybe we might've had a chance with him if he hadn't been so abused by ponies. I doubt he'd find any of us attractive now.”

“Maybe you would've had a chance. I don't think he's attracted to other males, either.” Quick chuckled, putting a comforting foreleg over Ensemble's shoulders. “But honestly... I really would like to see him and Miss Windwhisper together.”

Ensemble nodded slowly. “I know. I feel the same, really. But... hey, let a mare dream, huh?”

“I wanna dream, too.” He blew a raspberry at her. “I just hope Princess Luna hasn't been peeking in on my dreams. That could get a little embarrassing.”

“Oh, you.” Ensemble snorted, then sniffled. “Ugh. My nose is running from crying.”

“Here.” Quick pulled his hoofkerchief out of his shirt pocket and gave it to her.

“Thanks.” She blew her nose loudly. “I'll put it in with the laundry,” she told him. “You're a sweetheart; there are times I wish you didn't only prefer stallions. You'd be a good catch.”

“There are times I wish you were a stallion, so we're even.” He chuckled. “Okay, Ennie. We know what the problem is, so we need to do what we can to help. Where's Welder and Niche?”

“Welder's in bed already, and Niche is still out on a date with some stallion she met last week. Right now it's just you and me running things behind the curtain.”

“Okay. Well, it's too late in the day to make dinner, but we can prep the makings of a fantastic breakfast tomorrow. I'll go to that griffin shop- it should be open for a while yet, I think- and pick up something special. Do we have enough eggs for Prench toast?”

“Yes, I picked up two dozen the day before yesterday. We might be getting low on cinnamon, though.”

“I'll get some of that too, to be safe.” They walked up out of the pantry and onto the main floor. “So where are Miss Windwhisper and Mister Collins?” he asked.

“They were in the study, the last I saw them.” She led him towards the room, and quietly pulled the door open enough for both of them to peek inside- only to find the human and the griffin curled up against each other, fast asleep on the large couch.

Quick felt a large smile spread across his lips. “Oh, that's a sight,” he murmured.

“Isn't it?” Ensemble was smiling just as widely. “Turn down the lantern; I'll get a blanket for them.”

Always ready to live up to his name, Quick Service was swift to comply, dimming the lantern so that it gave just enough light to see by. He watched as Ensemble retrieved a thin blanket from a nearby closet and, with a deft movement of her head and neck, gently opened it and placed it over them. Neither of the creatures on the couch stirred in the slightest. They must have been exhausted, he thought. Couldn't really blame them.

Once he and Ensemble had left the room and closed the door- and Quick had hung a “do not disturb” sign on the latch- they discussed their plan, then separated to get everything started. Quick felt a burning sense of purpose as he headed outside into the evening Canterlot streets, his steps a little faster than usual. Two creatures I care about are hurting, he thought. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't do all that I could to make things better?

(-)

“...I don't think I've ever seen this many ponies in the library.”

Spike poured another cup of cocoa from one of the many canteens that Sugarcube Corner had generously donated once the Cakes had found out what was going on. The drinks were going quickly; the library was naturally a touch on the chilly side during this time of year, not to mention that cocoa was just a natural fit with reading. Not that any of the numerous ponies present were reading for relaxation or personal pleasure, it seemed. “How did everypony find out about all this?” he wondered.

“Might kinda be my fault.” Applejack set down her cup. “I told Big Mac what was happenin' last night, and he wanted t' help, naturally. And then we had to tell Apple Bloom that we were both leavin' th' farm fer a bit, and... well, y'know how she is when she wants t' know somethin'. I didn't give 'er all the details, but enough so she knew it was important.”

“I had a similar situation with Sweetie Belle,” Rarity admitted. “And it's likely that either of the girls told Scootaloo, and any number of their other friends. And then... well, it might as well have been posted up on the town notice board.” She took a sip of her cocoa. “Not that I'm complaining in the least, mind you. This turnout warms my heart.”

Spike looked out at the group of ponies, each of them intently gazing at books of different sizes and designs, on occasion writing notes down. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I'm glad that everypony is looking past what Peter is and seeing what he's done.”

He'd just started on pouring out the seventh canteen of cocoa when something at the front door caught his attention. A pair of ponies were standing in front of it, forming a sort of blockade against another pony standing outside; he strained to hear what was being said. “...lot of work to do here, and we don't need a klutz like you making a mess....”

“But I want to help!” Spike immediately recognized the voice from beyond the door as Derpy Hooves's. “I like Peter and I want to lend a hoof!”

“And if he needs something broken, knocked over or dropped on somepony's head, we'll come get you,” one of the blockade ponies shot back. “So why don't you fumble on back home-”

“Hey.” Another voice came from the eastern side of the library, and a stallion trotted towards the door; it took Spike a moment to recognize him- Ember Flare, the unicorn who'd been praised by the Mayor for getting help when Peter and Sveti were defending the little filly who'd been lost in the woods. “Let her in,” the unicorn told the two ponies blocking the door. “We should be letting anypony who wants to help do so.”

“You want Disaster Hooves flopping around in here?” one of the ponies snorted. “We should just save her the trouble and light the place on fire ourselves.”

The other one snickered. “Yeah. And weren't you one of the ponies saying bad things about Peter before he came to town, Ember? I remember hearing Rainbow Dash giving you some noise for that.”

“Yes. Yes, I was. And you know what? I was wrong. I was wrong and stupid, and now I want to make up for it.” He gave the ponies a critical look. “Now imagine how you'll feel if you're wrong about Derpy, and if she really could help. Do you want to take the chance?”

Both of the ponies at the doorway gave each other an uncertain look, then reluctantly stepped back, letting an upset-looking Derpy through. Ember immediately placed a comforting hoof on her withers. “C'mon, Derpy,” he said. “I'll get you one of the books off the stack and a copy of the keyword list. And some cocoa, too, if you want.”

“S- sure. Thanks, Embie.”

Spike had a cup waiting for the unicorn, and watched as Ember brought it over to the storm-grey pegasus, along with a book and a list. Everything settled back down after that, with the turning of pages and scratching of pencils on paper being the only sounds to greet Spike's ears for a while. It was when he was moving around to collect empty cups that he stopped by where Derpy was seated, and was about to take her cup, when he noticed that her eyes were moving independently across the pages, and she was moving through her book much faster than most of the other ponies. For a second he thought she was just skimming, until he saw her eyes repeat their movements twice, and then she took her pencil in her mouth and wrote down two notes. “Hey, um, Derpy?” he asked.

“Yeah, Spike?”

“Are you... are you reading both pages at once?”

“Yep! I taught myself to read something different with each eye when I was transferred to the mail-sorting room for six months. It helped me get through the queues faster, and then I could get home to my girls sooner.”

“That's actually kinda cool,” he told her, giving her a smile. Next to her, Ember grinned, while the two ponies who'd tried to keep Derpy out of the library gave each other sheepish looks.

“Thanks, Spike!” She returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own. “Say, could I get more cocoa?”

“You got it!” The dragon immediately made his way back to the checkout desk to get another cup for his friend.

(-)

“Well, I bet you're happy.”

Peppermint York spun around at the familiar voice behind her, to find Swift Wind standing a few paces away from the flower cart she was browsing through. She couldn't read the expression he was giving her. “Happy?” she repeated. “I'm not sure what you... hey, when did you get out of the wheelchair?”

“Come on, York, don't tell me you didn't hear what happened with Peter.”

“I, uh... I haven't heard anything, actually.” She trotted towards him, offering an uneasy smile, but his expression didn't change. “I'm not really 'in the loop' anymore.” It was the honest truth; since she'd taken on the protection “assignment”, she'd had no briefings or communication with her command structure- she'd been effectively cut off.

He stared at her for a moment. “You really don't know, do you?”

Her smile dropped. “Aircolt, I don't appreciate being jerked around. What are you talking about?”

He motioned for her to follow him, and she did so, until they stopped in a nearby quiet alley. “Word's gotten around that somepony sabotaged an experiment Princess Twilight was performing,” he told her. “Ponies are saying that Princess Luna nearly died, that the sabotage could've destroyed all of Canterlot... and that Peter is going to die because of it.”

It felt to York as though her entire body- her heart, her brain, every last muscle and nerve- froze for a moment as she processed what she'd just been told. “Sabotage...?” she found herself repeating.

“Yeah. I guess somepony out there hates Peter even more than you do. So I suppose you're not going to have to worry about him being around much longer, right?”

Only a part of her mind registered the disgust on his face and in his voice, and how surprisingly painful it felt. The rest of her was caught in a mental freefall. “This... this isn't....” she mumbled. “It's not what... how could they....”

She numbly cantered by him, barely aware of how his expression had gone from contempt to confusion. “...where are you going?” she heard him call after her.

She didn't have an answer for him; she didn't even have one for herself. But when she found her wings taking her back to the apartment building where she and her wards were staying, she knew what she needed more than anything- a friendly ear to talk to. So she flew up to her floor's entrance in search of the four ponies who were the closest thing she had to friends anymore.

(-)

“Excuse me, ma'am? Are you lost?”

She stopped, turning towards the junior-ranked Guard who'd queried her. “Ahh, yes, miss,” she said. “I'm looking for-” her eyes flicked towards a duty roster hanging from the wall- “Lieutenant Whitebreeze.”

“The Lieutenant isn't in today, I'm afraid.”

“Oh, dear. When would it be best to return?”

“Tomorrow at eight in the morning, ma'am.”

“Thank you. I'll be back then.” She turned, headed around the corner towards the exit stairwell- and then around yet another corner out of the Guard's eyesight. It was a trivial matter to find Lieutenant Whitebreeze's office, open the unlocked door, and levitate a small note onto the desk inside. The job done, she made her way back to the stairwell and towards the exit, ensuring that her borrowed, simple dress still covered her cutie mark, and that her sunglasses hid her eyes.

Goldenrod Honeydew was not a mare to take foalish chances. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to acquire and solidify her position of power; she wouldn't risk losing any of it through her own mistakes, let alone those of others. And whatever lunacy Silver Star's “advisor” is putting in his head, I no longer want any connection with him, she thought. And while it pains me to stoop to siccing the Guard on somepony of our social circle, this scheme has gotten far out of hoof. To risk the safety of our nation with such a ridiculous, ill-considered plan! Power may be an end that justifies many means, but there are limits!

As much as she was loathe to admit it even to herself, what would come next was more or less out of her hooves. While she had a small number of well-paid plants inside of the Canterlot Guard ranks- anypony in her position would have the same, and there was no guarantee that any of hers didn't also work for one or more other members of the nobility- she didn't have nearly the influence it would take to direct the investigation that her “anonymous tip” would doubtlessly spark... which was why she was taking great pains in covering her tracks, personally completing this task rather than delegating to a servant or aide who might later spill the oats. If you're going to stir up the cows, take care not to get caught in the stampede, went her reasoning.

It was only when she was safely back to her estate, seated on her favorite easy chair with a cup of tea at her side, that Goldenrod felt it safe to relax- as much as somepony in her position could relax, at least- and wait for the other horseshoe to drop.

(-)

“I want to make sure that I have this straight.” Shining dropped the clipboard with the security logs onto the desk. “Somepony posing as a janitor managed to get through three checkpoints and into a high-security area?”

“A security breach we haven't seen the likes of since the Changeling invasion.” Major Winter Rime leaned back in her chair and placed her forehooves together. “I've interviewed the three guards who were stationed at those checkpoints. They all remember this guy; they examined his credentials... and for reasons none of them can explain, they let him pass into areas he had no business going into.”

“Despite all of our guards being issued charms to detect mental manipulation magic.” Shining dropped his rump into his chair, letting out a quiet grunt. “What could influence a pony's mind but not trigger those charms?”

“Not much that I'm aware of. Certain Zebrican rhythmic villanelles can induce a hypnotic state without magic, but the subject usually remembers the state afterwards. Certain special talents in ponies might have a similar effect....” She frowned.

Shining was on the same mental track. “You said the janitor was a unicorn?”

“Yes, sir. He didn't match our description of Big Top, but....”

“...but if he's a showpony then he might be able to disguise himself well enough to fool casual observation.”

“Oh, buck me.” She slammed a hoof down on the desk. “That stallion's got a stone pair if he's been here in Canterlot this whole time.”

“And if he has, that means that somepony's been harboring him, wittingly or otherwise.”

“Well, that only leaves us thirty-five thousand or so homes, businesses, estates, shacks and outhouses to search. Where do we start?”

knock-knock

Both ponies turned towards the door. “Come in,” Shining called out.

The door opened, and a pegasus stallion in lieutenant's regalia stepped in. “Captain, Major,” he said, “this note was apparently left on my desk yesterday. I found it when I came on duty this morning.”

Major Rime took the note, unfolded it and read it, then laid it down on the table and chuckled. “Well, if this isn't convenient, then I don't know what is,” she said.

Shining levitated the note up and read it as well, then pinched at his nose with a hoof. “Yeah, no kidding. But it's a lead.” He glanced back at the pegasus. “Lieutenant, bring this note to the justicar's office and request a search warrant, then organize a response team. I'll be there in half an hour to head it up.”

“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant saluted, then left.

Rime looked across the table at him. “Going to lead the team? That's a little off protocol.”

“Protocol can bite my rump; I'm angry. This sorry waste of hide has been making the lives of innocent creatures miserable for far too long, and if he's the one who sabotaged Princess Twilight's test... well, that's a big red line to cross. If we can finally nail him to the wall, I want to be there.”

They were just standing up when another knock came from the door; behind it was the sergeant-at-arms, who saluted smartly. “Captain Armor,” he said, “Air Sergeant York has requested to see you as soon as possible. She's in Meeting Room Four.”

He couldn't quite repress a groan. “Now? Is it important?”

“She seems to think so, sir.”

“Alright, alright... I'll give her five minutes to explain herself. Major, do me a favor and make sure that the watch schedule for the Griffin Embassy is still being followed; Sergeant, you're free to return to your duties.”

He left the office and headed to the meeting room, where he found the Air Sergeant waiting for him; her appearance brought him up short- the mare looked absolutely haunted. “Sergeant, I'm on a timetable,” he said.

“I understand, sir, but I have something I need to say to you.”

He took a seat at the table, opposite of her. “Let's hear it.”

“Sir, I've heard about the sabotage.”

“You and everypony from here to Las Pegasus, it seems. I'm beginning to wonder if anypony in this Guard understands the value of confidentiality.”

She seemed completely unfazed by his sardonic quip. “Sir, I want to change my part of our agreement.”

He frowned. “Now, Sergeant, we had a deal that was extremely favorable to you-”

“I know, sir. I want to drop my condition of anonymity during testimony.”

“And that- wait.” He just barely kept himself from doing a double-take. “You insisted on that condition because you didn't want to be a target. Now you've changed your mind?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why? And make it brief.”

“Because I've come to realize that I helped enable this, Captain. I let my feelings override my sense of duty, I violated my oaths, I provided support to a movement that obviously no longer has the safety of our nation and its citizens as a priority- if it ever did- and it is my responsibility as a member of the Royal Guard to do all that I can to see that the perpetrators are brought to justice. We both know that the courts give more weight to open testimony than anonymous depositions.”

“So you're willing to risk repercussions to testify openly, should a trial occur.”

She took in a slow breath, then nodded. “Yes, sir. I am.”

“Alright.” He offered her a slight smile. “I'm glad to hear this, Sergeant.” He stood, but paused as a thought came to mind. “Your wards- they've heard of the sabotage as well?”

“Yes, sir. They found out about the same time that I did, from a different source.”

“And their reactions?”

“Bad. Farris Wheel took it particularly hard. I didn't think that colt could get so angry.”

He nodded. “And... how do you feel about this, Sergeant?”

Her gaze drifted to the table. “Captain, I would crawl to Peter Collins's feet and beg for his forgiveness if I thought I deserved it. I never wanted anything like this to happen.”

“I see.” He did his best to keep a neutral expression. “You might yet have a chance to make a good difference in all this, Air Sergeant York. In the meantime, return to your duties.”

“Yes, sir.” She still bore the same morose expression as when he'd first entered the room, but her movements were maybe just a touch more lively now. But that was all the thought he could spare towards the mare- he had preparations to make.

(-)

Silver Wisk had never seen Farris Wheel so angry.

The young stallion had been in various states of fury since they'd gotten the news about what had happened with Princess Twilight's test. She'd never heard so many variants of profanity come out of his mouth, either, nearly all of them combined with Big Top's name; the colt was certain that he'd had something to do with it, a theory that Wisk found both plausible and terrifying- because the very thought of Top being somewhere in the city made her want to hide in a corner and wet herself.

Wheel's anger had faded by the time the pair had made it to the embassy building, but instead of the usual fearful trepidation he showed when it came to interacting with anypony connected with Peter, instead there was a sad determination in his eyes. The young stallion let out a quiet sight before raising a hoof to pull at the doorbell cord.

A young-looking mare in a well-tailored maid's outfit opened the door in short order. “Hello! Can I help you?” she asked.

Wheel managed a pleasant smile. “Yes, miss,” he said. “I'd like to speak to Mister Collins, if I could.”

There was a nearly-instantaneous drop in the mare's smile, almost too fast to see. “Who may I ask is calling?”

“Farris Wheel and Silver Wisk.”

This time the smile left the servant's face permanently. “I'm sorry, but I don't believe that will be possible-”

“Ensemble?” a familiar voice from inside the building. “Thought heard doorbell. Who-”

Wisk froze in place as Peter's face came into view, the curious expression on it quickly hardening into disdain as the human realized who was at the door. “...what do you want?” he said carefully, his tone flat.

Wisk noted that he was dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt and wearing a pair of strange padded gloves on his hands, his bare skin dripping with sweat; he must have been doing something physical, probably exercising, before coming to the door. Next to her, Wheel lowered his head a little. “Peter, I know Wisk and I are probably two of the last ponies you want to see right now,” he said. “But after hearing what happened with Princess Twilight's test and... and what that means for you, I felt the need to tell you how sorry we are that this all happened, and that we never did anything to help you when we could.” The stallion paused for a moment, but at the human's continued stony silence, he went on. “I also had something I wanted to give to you and Sveti,” he said, before moving his head to grab something out of his saddlebags- a bound booklet. “I've been writing a play, with the help of Encore Revue, as sort of an allegory of what happened with the sideshow. It's not quite finished; once it is, the Royal Culture Board is going to help us get it produced and shown in every small town and village we can... but I'd like for you and her to have a look at it.” He went quiet for a moment as Peter wordlessly took the booklet. “Peter, I know we can't ever undo what we did, or make up for it... but because of what happened, now I'm in a place where maybe I can help stop it from happening again. And I'm going to do everything I can to do that.”

With that, Wheel turned and cantered away. Wisk remained a moment longer, offering a quiet “I'm sorry” to the human, before practically galloping after the stallion. “Wheelie?” she called out.

He came to a stop at a nearby intersection. “Sorry, Wisk,” he said. “I just... I think I used up a lifetime's worth of courage to do that. I had to go before I ended up in tears or something.”

She leaned against him gently. “Do you think they'll read it?” she wondered.

“I don't know.” He let out a quiet sigh. “I guess it doesn't make a difference either way. I don't have a right to expect them to accept anything we do to try to make up for it all, but that doesn't mean we can just not bother trying.”

“I guess that's true.” She gave him a smile. “That's a pretty wise outlook, Wheelie.”

“I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.” He went quiet for a moment. “I would've liked to have waited until the play was finished to give it to them, but....” He scowled.

“Yeah. I know.” She nuzzled him lightly. “I don't know where that waste of horsehide is right now, but I hope the Guard finds him, locks him up and throws away the dungeon.”

(-)

“Sir? Captain Shining Armor wishes to speak to you.”

Oh, Tartarus. Silver Star swept the salt licks on his desk into an open drawer and slammed it shut. “Is he in the foyer?” he asked the servant.

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll... I'll be down in just a moment.”

“Very good, sir.” The servant's hoofsteps faded down the hallway, and Star quickly rubbed at his face with a fetlock, glancing into a wall mirror to make sure he didn't look out-of-sorts. Reluctantly, he trod his way down the hall and into the foyer, where the Captain of the Royal Guard- and the Emperor-Consort of the Crystal Empire, if news reports were to be believed- waited patiently for him; the large, alabaster-coated stallion was bedecked in a dress uniform laden with medals and ribbons. “Mister Star, I'm sorry to interrupt your day,” the Captain said, with perfect formality- but something in his eyes seemed to snarl no, I'm not. “But I'm afraid that we've received a tip that something... untoward has been going on in your estate, with enough proof that the Guard has acquired a search warrant for the premises.” He levitated a small, folded parchment out of a pocket of his uniform and onto a nearby table. “You'll find it in order, I believe. But rather than barge in with a full compliment of the Guard, I thought it better to get your cooperation.”

Star's eyes flicked down at the warrant, reading up to the point where his name was elegantly written. That scheming, herdless son of a manticore sold me out, he thought. No wonder he didn't show up at my signal last night! Blast, all my papers are just waiting to be found; why didn't my contacts in the Guard warn me?! “Right... well, as a law-abiding citizen, I'll always cooperate with the Guard,” he said, trying to keep the quavering out of his voice.

“I'm glad to hear that.” The Captain trotted by the table. “Sir, why don't you show me to-”

Star's horn lit up.

crash

The table slammed into the larger stallion's side, and in a blind panic Star raced for the hallway. All I have to do is get to the red folder and incinerate it, he thought. Everything else I can explain away, but that one has to go. I'll just-

thump

He slammed into something he couldn't see, that shimmered as his face plowed into it. He let out a soft groan as he slid down to the floor and crumpled into a pile; from where he lay, he could see a quartet of sapphire-blue hooves trotting casually towards him. “Mister Star, that was... ill-advised,” Captain Armor said, his casual tone not quite hiding an undercurrent of anger. “Assaulting a member of the Royal Guard is a felony. Don't assume that your position makes you immune to consequences.” A magical aura seized at the front of Star's shirt, hauling him to his hooves. “Is he worth those consequences?”

Star shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “...he?”

“You know who I'm talking about, Mister Star. Him. Your 'advisor', perfectly described in our search warrant. I might add that harboring a wanted fugitive is also a felony... let alone aiding and abetting an act of sabotage against the nation.”

And suddenly everything fell into place in Silver Star's mind, and he realized just how badly he'd bucked things up. “...I don't know where he is,” he said numbly.

“Are you seriously going to try to protect him-”

“I'm telling the truth!” Something broke inside him, and he slid back down onto the floor. “I don't know where he is; I don't even really know who he is. He just... showed up one night, talking his way past my personal security and all my staff, and started telling me how he could help....”

“Help what?” Armor pulled him up to his hooves again. “You're not going to gain anything by protecting him.”

Star closed his eyes for a moment, doing his best to pull himself together. “I want my lawyer, Captain,” he said gruffly. “I'll say nothing more without her present.”

“Very well.” The Captain stepped away; Star heard a multitude of heavy hoofsteps echoing through the hall. “In the meantime, we'll be executing that search warrant. I'm afraid we'll have to take you into custody, since you did attack me.”

Silver Star stood in stone-faced indignation as he was forced to undergo the humiliating act of being hobbled and horn-capped like a common criminal. As he watched the guardsponies begin methodically searching through his home, he found that he couldn't decide who to be more angry towards- the Royal Guard, the Captain, that miserable stallion he'd called his “advisor”, whoever had ratted him out... or himself.

(-)

“Stallions and gentlemares, the problem we have before us is as follows.” Twilight tapped her pointer against the chalkboard. “Our subject, Peter Collins, previously served as an anchor point for an inverse Trotskan-Bayenski funnel effect. Unfortunately, due to a detour through the Astral Plane in his physical form, his link to his origin point was lost.” There were a few quiet murmurs in the small group before her. “This has formed a sort of 'thaumatic reservoir', which- due to continued magical absorption at a 5:7 Hackamore ratio- will eventually reach saturation.”

Several of the ponies in the group raised their hooves, and Twilight pointed to one of them. “Princess, wouldn't that result in a catastrophic backlash that would most likely be fatal to the subject and potentially destructive on a rather large scale?” the stallion asked.

“That's exactly right, Professor Snaffle,” Twilight answered. “And that outcome is what we're trying to prevent. What I need from you fellow scientists and scholars is a way to do so.” She saw more hooves raise, and pointed to another. “Scholar Uma?”

The mare spoke up in her lilting Neighponese accent. “Princess Twilight, has anypony discovered how long it will be before the backlash occurs?”

“For obvious reasons, we've been unable to perform direct magical probing. But utilizing calculations developed with... an expert in the field-” she didn't want to mention Discord directly- “we estimate that we have two months at the most, and possibly as few as three weeks. Are there any more vital questions?” When no more hooves raised, Twilight smiled. “Then let's begin.”

What came next was ten hours of full-spectrum brainstorming and idea-tossing. There were few ideas that Twilight would leave off the table- she would not consider any form of mutilation or surgical implantation for Peter, nor could she bring herself to completely isolate him in a “clean room”, as for it to make any real difference, they would have to all but imprison him in solitary confinement for what could be years, or even the rest of his natural life. She would only resort to that if it was truly necessary to save his life, and if he consented to it.

Finally, when just about everypony's voice was hoarse from speaking despite the generous amounts of ice water provided, they'd come up with half a dozen or so potential solutions, one of which Twilight considered the most likely candidate. “Mister Pyrite,” she said, “I happen to like the idea of some sort of wearable object which could coax out and contain the thaumatic backlog while also absorbing any ambient intake caused by the Trotskan-Bayenski effect. The problem is, while there are plenty of types of gems that would make suitable magical reservoirs, I'm not aware of any materials that could serve as a suitable semiconductive conduit. Everything I can think of is either an insulator or a complete conductor, or simply too toxic to anything living for our purposes.”

“Hmm.” The elderly stallion tapped his bearded chin with a hoof. “I can only think of two materials. Gold-pressed latinum, which is prohibitively difficult to create, or murium, an alloy which the Griffin Empire is known to use for various magical charms but will not sell to outside powers at any price.”

Magical charms.... It took a supreme effort of will for Twilight to not simply teleport out of the room immediately. “The Diarchy of Equestria thanks you for your time, my esteemed colleagues,” she said, perhaps a touch more quickly than she would've liked. “You'll be well-compensated by the Crowns for your time and effort, and I personally appreciate all you've done to help a friend of our nation. Should any papers be published as a result of this discussion, rest assured that you'll all be credited fairly.”

The instant after she'd ushered them out the door for their assistants to help, she vanished in a burst of purple light.

(-)

“I had a wonderful night tonight.” Neat Niche smiled at her date, blushing a little. “I've never had a stallion treat me quite the way you have.”

He grinned, lightly brushing against her side. “Well, that's a shame,” he replied, “and one I'm glad to have corrected.”

“Ah, you're so sweet,” she giggled. “But really, thanks so much for the night out. I didn't realize it had gotten so late!”

“I'm sorry if I kept you out past your curfew.” He smiled, looking down the street; Niche could see the Embassy just around the corner. “You won't be in trouble, will you?”

“No, no. I had the entire day off. I'll just want to be quiet; everyone inside is probably getting ready for bed by now.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, I'll do my best not to wake anypony.” He winked, his lazy eye wandering off a little as he did so.

Again she giggled. “How did a simple mare like me get your attention, anyway, Smartie?”

“Let's just say you caught my eye.”

She gave him a playful grin. “Really? Just one?”

He chuckled, looking ahead once more. “At first.”

“Aww, sorry, Smartie. I didn't mean any offense.”

“I know, I know.” He smiled. “None taken.”

They stopped at the Embassy's staff entrance, where Niche fished her key out of her purse and slid it into the lock. “Thanks for seeing me back, Whip Smart. Do you think we can go out again sometime next week?”

“I imagine I can clear some space on my calendar.” He leaned over to nuzzle her lightly. “See you soon, Niche.”

“See you soon!” She turned, opening the door and turning to enter; she saw a dim glow light up behind her-

thwack

Pain shot through her skull as it was slammed into the doorway, and she fell in a heap; she was only dimly aware of being dragged into the building before consciousness left her.