Shining Armour sat in stony silence as Nightjack escorted Applejack out of the meeting room, glaring through aching eyes at the Pegasus pony calmly jotting down notes beside him.

“Problem, Colonel?” Autumn Breeze asked coolly, after the door had closed.

“Yeah, I've got a problem! Was that really necessary? From what she said, there's absolutely no way that she killed him, but you're letting her go on thinking that she did.”

“She was plausible, yes, but there's a lot of loose ends to tie up before we can say one way or another. Obviously you believe her?”

Shining Armour waved a hoof agitatedly. “Of course I believe her! She's the Element of Honesty, after all.”

Autumn blinked. “The Element of Honesty?” she repeated in surprise.

“Yes! Good grief, have you been living under a rock or something for the last two years?!”

Autumn sat back for a moment, thinking. “Then maybe that makes her more than plausible. It still doesn't mean she didn't kill him, Colonel, except perhaps she's looking at ponyslaughter rather than equinicide.”

“What?” He could feel a thumping headache coming on behind his eyes, and he couldn't summon the mental energy to deal with semantics.

Autumn shook her head and tried again. “Say she's completely right; she still freely admits to kicking the tar out of a badly-wounded pony who subsequently died. And I agree, I don't think that one pony could have inflicted all those wounds – especially not without turning up in front of all those Guardsponies of yours absolutely covered in blood. But that doesn't mean that he didn't haul himself outside and die, and then something came along and nibbled on him later. Maybe even that creature she was talking about. The autopsy's going to be critical in determining which wounds were ante- and post-mortem. And I for one don't fancy telling a pony that they're home free only to have to haul them back in the next day, not on something like this.”

Shining Armour said nothing, fuming but knowing that the Pegasus was completely right.

Autumn let out a sigh and continued in a gentler voice. “Look, there's the warm, fluffy side of policing where you're out there finding lost foals and helping old ponies across the street, and then there's this. I can't afford to pussyhoof around here, leaving gaps and not asking questions because somepony's feelings might get hurt. This isn't a popularity contest; I need to understand exactly what happened and the precise circumstances. When all's said and done there's still a pony dead, and I owe it to him and his family to find out what happened.”

Unable to think of a decent counter argument, he blew out his breath between clenched teeth and tried to count to ten. “I either need some sleep, or the largest coffee in Equestria,” he growled shortly.

Recognising the abrupt change of subject, she nodded and let it go. “I don't know about the former, but surely we can do better than the muck Nightjack was drinking earlier?”

“That's the finest ambrosia a true police pony could ask for,” came Nightjack's tired voice from the corridor. He strode back into the room, a pen and notepad trailing in his wake. He pushed the door closed behind himself before adding, “Although I appreciate your lack of discernment, Autumn.”

“That's because it means there's more for you,” she retorted. “You're welcome to it!”

Nightjack chuckled, then broke off into a shuddering yawn, slapping the notepad down on the table. “Well, what did we make of all that, then?”

Autumn shrugged. “It's quite a tale. I think she believes it, although I'm not convinced that I do – not yet, anyway.”

“You came on a little strongly, a few times,” Nightjack noted mildly.

While Shining Armour would have put it more strongly than that, he decided to keep quiet and see where they went with this. At any rate, Autumn didn't seem to take any offence.

“Oh well, I guess that makes me 'Bad Cop'.”

“You think I'm going easy on her?” Nightjack pressed.

“You know her, so you have a better idea how to get stuff out of her. I think between us we got everything we were going to get – at this stage, anyway.”

Nightjack grunted. “I did wonder if I ought to step aside from this one. I've known Applejack and her family ever since I came here. I don't think we can afford accusations of partiality.”

Autumn's ears flattened. “Oh Celestia, please no! We're ridiculously under-staffed as it is, and we need somepony who knows their way around this manor! No offence, but Bluebell seems a little... new.”

“She's got good instincts and a good heart,” Nightjack defended his Constable, before adding grudgingly, “But you're right, she is inexperienced. You probably noticed that I kept her busy away from the scene today; I probably shouldn't have, but she's just so darn young.”

“It's still part of the job, even if it doesn't come around very often,” Autumn noted. “Maybe that even makes it more important for her to learn.”

Nightjack sighed. “You're right, of course. I'll have to apologise to her later. Now, back on topic; next steps?”

“Twilight Sparkle, then those three foals. If they corroborate Applejack's story, then that alone will probably get her off a murder charge.”

“Autopsy permitting, I agree. We really need to talk to Fluttershy, too, although it might be best if I interview her. I think she'll clam up if a stranger tries. They'll get her for something, though,” said Nightjack, scribbling notes on his pad as he scratched his cheek absently.

“Who's they?”

The other two turned to Shining Armour in surprise, exchanging a glance on the way. After a moment Nightjack explained. “Charges aren't down to us, Colonel; we present the evidence file to the Chamber of Justice and they decide what charges to bring, and prosecute them in court.”

“At the very least, she's admitted under caution to assault occasioning actual bodily harm. A lawyer would probably have shut her up, but I think we'd have got there in the end, anyway. Those hoof-prints on the body would be awfully hard to explain away,” Autumn added.

“On his shoulder? That looked nasty, and with the head wound that might take it to GBH,” Nightjack agreed, nodding. “There's the broken leg, as well, but I doubt they'll be able to say definitively on that one.”

“So she's going to be doing time?” Shining asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. As if things weren't bad enough already, Twilight was going to be devastated – not to mention Applejack's family.

“The only way she isn't is if they decide to let it drop – and I really can't see that happening. It's just going to be a question of how much,” said Nightjack.

Shining Armour shook his head. “You know, I could almost see myself doing the same thing if it was my little sister.”

“That doesn't make it right, unfortunately,” Autumn said adamantly. “She'll be allowed a plea in mitigation, but we're getting way out ahead of ourselves in the what-ifs.”

“Right. Sorry,” he muttered, slumping back in his chair.

The two police ponies discussed the case back and forth for the next three-quarters of an hour, dissecting the evidence and deciding on plans of action and lines of enquiry while Shining Armour did his best to make himself invisible. It gave him time to think, but his thoughts kept flying away from him like skittish birds, and he kept catching himself nodding off. It was the inactivity, he decided; it was easy enough to keep going when you were tired, but the moment you stopped the body tried to switch itself off.

He had somehow slipped from Applejack's defence of her sister to Twilight to Cadence's upcoming birthday when they were finally interrupted by a heavy pounding at the front door in a familiar patten as old as time. Shave and a manecut – ten bits.

Autumn's eyebrows shot up. “Please tell me that's a pizza delivery?”

Shining Armour hauled himself to his hooves. “I think that this one's for me. Excuse me.”

“Hey, I'd settle for a burrito?” Autumn called after him. He heard a weary chuckle from Nightjack as the door swung closed.

He found his way back to the front desk, via an unexpected wrong turn into a broom cupboard, and unbarred the door before swinging back the upper half. As he expected, a heavily-armoured Pegasus pony stood outside, a squad of Guardsponies in two neat ranks behind her. The red-and-blue plumes in her helmet said Second Airborne, and the yellow trim on her harness told him Alpha Company. “Sergeant Crusher?” he guessed.

“Reporting as ordered, sir,” the mare confirmed, with a crisp salute. Behind her, a few half-hearted flashbulbs flared from die-hard reporters loitering outside. He ignored them and returned her salute,

“Thank you, Sergeant. Fall your ponies out and come on in.”

The tramp of many iron-shod hooves followed him into the public waiting area. It was far too small for so many ponies but at least it got them off the street. Ducking back into the custody area, he found the two police ponies emerging from the interview room.

“The squad I requested has arrived; I really ought to get them out to the scene and brief everypony before it gets too dark.”

“We probably ought to head back out there, too,” said Autumn, with a glance out the small window at the darkening sky. “The teams must be getting close to wrapping up by now.”

Nightjack checked the clock. “Yes, it is getting on a bit, isn't it? I think we may as well call it a day when we get back. The autopsy will be later tonight, Colonel – are you joining us for that, too?”

“Err... not if I can help it?” said Shining Armour with a nervous, sickly grin. He'd seen more than he ever wanted to see that morning, already. “I think I'll settle for reading the report.”

“Fair enough. I don't know if you have somewhere to sleep tonight, but I might be able to find somepony who can put you up – Bluebell's mother has a spare room, I know...,” Nightjack trailed off, but Shining Armour hurried to reassure him.

“It's all right, I'll stay at Twilight's. And if I can't then I'll just have to doss down in the Berry's barn with the troops. It's not a problem.”

“Good. Well, let's get cracking, then.”

For the second time that day, Shining Armour found himself knocking on the door of the library that his sister called home. To his complete lack of surprise, he had made the journey out to the scene only to find that Corporal Oak Heart had set a watch, organised a roster, bulked up the clouds overhead which acted as their lookout platform, and settled the off-duty Guardsponies down in the barn at the top of the hill for some shut-eye. It was a relatively simple matter to top up his shielding enchantment, and leaving Sergeant Crusher to settle her squad in with Oak Heart's didn't really require his input, but one of the duties of an officer was to stand around and give these sorts of proceedings a veneer of oversight and authority. All in all, Oak Heart seemed a more-than-capable mare, and he had made a mental note to ask her officers more about her; she could be in line for another 'hook', at least.

The police ponies seemed equally satisfied with their arrangements, and as the two Flying Squad carriages departed again for Canterlot, they set out for Ponyville Hospital and the autopsy of the body being carried in the ambulance in front of them. That was a duty that Shining Armour had been more than happy to avoid. As it was, he could tell that the day's sights and smells would give him many sleepless nights in the future.

For now, though, all he wanted was a bed – or failing that, even just somewhere to stop. He could sleep on his hooves if he had to, but the urge to rest had become an overwhelming imperative. Luckily, the little dragon who appeared in the doorway seemed to have read his mind.

“Hey. I thought you might be back. Guest bedroom's made up for you,” Spike said in a low voice.

“Spike, I could kiss you – but somepony might get the wrong idea!”

Spike chuckled, stepping back to clear the way. “Long day?” he asked, as Shining Armour trooped inside.

“It started at 0630 yesterday, so yeah. Has there been any sign of Twily?”

“Yeah, Big Macintosh brought her home a couple of hours ago. I was thinking I should go and find you, but she just went straight up to bed. Barely even spoke to me,” Spike said quietly, leaning back against the closed door.

“I think she's had a pretty rough couple of days.” Which is probably an understatement. If Princess Celestia has been relying on her to find and stop this thing, she'll have worked herself silly – she always does. And then she finds a friend of hers like that. Huh, a friend, or that kind of friend? No, wait, his fillyfriend turned up there this morning, didn't she? Great Celestia, that doesn't even bear thinking about-

“...Ground Control to Colonel Shining Armour? Is there anypony home?

With a jerk, he realised that Spike had been talking to him. “Sorry, Spike, I missed that. If I stay still for too long right now, I start to take root. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, just... kinda worried about her, you know? I don't really know what to do.”

“Just keep doing what you always do – keep being her friend.”

“Huh. Well, I can worry about that in the morning. I'll show you upstairs.

He followed Spike back through the library, trying to keep his hoofsteps from echoing too loudly on the wooden stairs. The door to the right on the landing was firmly closed, but Spike led him to the left and into a little room. It was a bit girly for his taste but he barely noticed, fixating instead on the alluring figure of the bed dominating the middle of the room.

“Thanks, Spike.” With a sigh, he lifted off his helmet and set his magic to unbuckling the straps of his breastplate.

“No problem; bathroom's the next door over if you need it. G'night.”

“Good night.”

He watched the door close as he pulled off his armour. Normally he'd have a ponnequin to set it on, but tonight he settled for piling it in a relatively neat heap beside the dresser.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He awoke in total darkness. Blinking, he raised his head off the pillow and listened for the noise which had roused him. A moment later he heard it, the soft rasp of hoof on wood, followed by a slow, rhythmic clunk of somepony descending the stairs. Twilight. Got to be.

He lay there for a while, cataloguing the state of his body. His headache had gone, and also the irritating twitch under his left eye. While his eyes no longer burned with the strain of staying open, his sinuses felt dry and taut and his throat rasped painfully when he swallowed. I need a drink. And it can't hurt to see how she's doing.

Pushing off the covers, he swung his legs out of bed and fumbled his way cautiously to the door. He felt the shape of the handle through his magic and swung it open before extending his magical senses to stretch out before him like a blind pony used their cane. Even so, he nearly tripped on the second-last step.

Finding his way to the kitchen, he took a long drink from the tap before returning to the main library area. There, in a shaft of moonlight, the figure of a pony slumped on its belly beside a large, circular table buried in books and crowned with a bust of a pony's head. Pausing for a moment, he quietly walked over and lowered himself down beside her in silence, tucking his legs beneath himself.

They sat together on the cool, unyielding floor for a long time – not speaking, just being there. In fact, he'd almost drifted off again when he felt a pressure across his withers and turned to see Twilight's head resting on him. His cheeks twitched into a rueful smile; it was a familiar scene for both of them from long ago, but back then it had been foalish nightmares and playground bullies that she sought his comfort from – the sort of things that a big brother could help with. Those days were long behind them, now, and he felt himself floundering in uncomfortably deep waters.

“I'm glad you're here.”

Her voice was soft and scratchy and laced through with weary resignation.

“Any time you need, Twily, I'm sure you remember that? Princess Celestia sent me. She thought you might need some help.”

Twilight sighed. “It's too late for that. Too late for... for one pony, anyway.” Her voice cracked huskily on the last few words.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused uncomfortably for a moment. “She also asked me to report on the police investigation. I spent the day trailing around after them. It's something I'd really rather not think about.” He winced as he realised his indiscretion. Nice going, Starswirl, like it isn't a hundred times worse for her?

She didn't reply but he could hear her breathing, slow and ragged in the darkness.

“Twily, it's not your fault,” he said gently.

“I should have-”

“It's not your fault, OK? So don't start with the guilt and recriminations.”

“You don't understand,” she said miserably. “I had months to prevent this, and I was too slow. Too slow by an hour, maybe less.”

“Are you saying you didn't do your best? Come on, Twily, you know I don't believe that. Spike told me that you busted your flank on this. You can't be expected to know everything, find everything. In the end, you're just one pony. A pretty awesome one, but one pony all the same.”

He heard a sniff in the darkness. “Princess Celestia knew. I think she knew all along, she just couldn't bring herself to believe it.”

“Then she's probably feeling what you're feeling right now.” He repressed a shudder. “She called me up to Dawn's Greeting tower at sun-up a few days ago and said that there was somewhere she had to go. She wouldn't tell me anything else, wouldn't take an escort, just launched herself off and flew away east. I had no idea what was going on until yesterday afternoon, when she got back. She was... well, terrifying. I nearly had to go and change my armour.”

“I saw,” Twilight whispered.

“You didn't,” he said, “You saw her a few hours and a good flight later, after she'd had time to calm down a bit. Once my ears had stopped bleeding, I was to organise as many Guardsponies as I could muster, arm them to the teeth, then fly off towards Ponyville and 'follow the sign' – whatever that meant. Then she stomped off towards the private wing.”

There was a long silence which both of them were unwilling to break. He felt the warmth of her shoulder press against his and hoped that it gave her some measure of reassurance. Eventually, she stirred slightly. “What happened after I... well, I guess you'd gone by then, but, uh-” she floundered hesitantly.

“You appeared right in front of some of our reserve, and they took you in and got you to the medical tent. From what they could get out of you, somepony was in trouble in a silver workshop, so they sent a detachment into town to find out where that was, and then went and investigated. They found... well, I guess you know what they found. It was the middle of the night, so they mounted guard over it and sent for the local police at dawn.”

“Mac said that they arrested Applejack.”

He sighed. “She didn't give them much choice. She asked after him, then straight-out admitted it. They couldn't let that slide.”

“But... she couldn't have. Nopony could have done that to him. It must have been the creature – that's exactly what we'd been afraid of all along, and... I was too late.”

He could feel her start to shake and he rested a foreleg over her heaving shoulders. “I don't know about any of that, but for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure they don't think she killed him.”

Twilight sniffed back her tears. “It's all just a complete mess!”

“Applejack? Like I said-”

“All of it! The creature, and Silver, and Applejack, and the whole works! W-we thought it might have been him, at first. Him or Summer. And then it didn't seem likely but there was always this little doubt and other ponies noticed and they started to give them a hard time and-” she broke off and took a deep, wet breath. “And I knew it couldn't have been them. Applejack knew, but all it took was her sister to go missing and some bad timing and some bad luck, and now he's dead.”

“They told me he was a friend of yours. Applejack's too.”

“He's... he was a good pony. Friendly, you know. He could be kinda charming when he wanted to be, but mostly he was just a nice, ordinary stallion. He-,” Twilight broke off abruptly and flinched like she'd been struck. “Oh. Oh, Goddess! Cloud Kicker!” she moaned in a small, sick voice.

“His fillyfriend? Yeah, she came by the farm to see him mid-morning. Nightjack had to break it to the poor mare right there.”

There was no answer for a moment, but then Twilight surged to her hooves and started pacing the room restlessly. “Damn it, it's not right! It's not right!” she snarled angrily, “She stood up to the whole town for him and...” she broke off with a wordless shriek of frustration.

Stunned at her sudden outburst, he tried to calm her down but she wasn't listening. “Twilight-”

She rounded on him, anger still crackling in her voice. “They deserved to be happy! He deserved to have his whole life! I know I shouldn't say it because it sounds so foalish, Shiny, but how can it end like this?”

He looked at her steadily and kept his reply calm and quiet. “Because life's like that, sometimes, and there's not a darn thing you can do about it.”

His words seemed to take the wind out of her sails, and she stopped dead in her pacing. When she spoke, she was calm again, but there was steel back in her voice. “It isn't right. I'm going to catch this thing, Shiny. I'm going to spring Applejack and then I'm going to gather up the girls and the damn Elements themselves if needs be, and I am going to hunt this thing down to the ends of Equestria.”

“If I can help you, I will, but there's two problems with that right now. Firstly, it's four o'clock in the morning. And secondly, Applejack's going nowhere. She's in real trouble, Twily.”

“W-what?”

Again, he had caught her off-balance. He quickly laid out what the police ponies had told him the previous afternoon, and by the time he had finished, his sister had slumped back onto the floor, stuttering in disbelief. “In the end, they're right; whatever her motivation, Applejack did him some serious damage and freely admits to it. I mean, I really don't know enough about what's been going on here, but if you say this creature has been sniffing around looking for victims, what would it do if it found a pony that was hurt and maybe couldn't fight back?”

Twilight said nothing, but from what he could see of her face in the moonlight, he regretted thinking aloud.

“Look, the first thing to do in the morning to get in contact with Princess Celestia and find out how much you can tell the police. I think the more you can tell them, the better, from Applejack's point of view. And at some point, I need to talk to Princess Celestia and find out exactly what the hay's been going on around here recently.”

“You don't know?”

“No, they haven't told me a thing. I only know what I've picked up around here yesterday – which isn't much. Something that bothers me, though, is if this is some sort of wild creature that's responsible, what's to stop it happening again tonight? Everypony, even the Princesses, seem to think that it's all over and there's nothing to worry about any more?”

Twilight sighed. “That's because there isn't. It starts by taking little things as trophies here and there, and then after... after it's killed, it moves on. Maybe it hibernates or something for a while. And then, years later, it starts over again somewhere else. That's why it's so hard to predict. Maybe now that the Princesses know what it is it will make it easier.”

“Maybe,” he agreed absently, his mind whirling. It reappears after years? Just how long has this been going on? “How are you feeling, Twily? You really wiped yourself out.”

“All right, I guess. Mind you, I thought that yesterday and by the time Big Mac brought me home it was all I could do to crawl into bed.” She turned abruptly and headed off towards the kitchen. “Do you want a drink or something?”

He didn't particularly, but it wouldn't hurt to keep her company. “Sure.”

They were halfway down their mugs of tea, Twilight pushing her hoof around in little circles on the tabletop, when she said suddenly, “I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dragging you up out of bed like this,”

“I already said, don't worry about it.” He cracked a half-smile. “Besides, I'm not around much any more, so you've got to take your chances when you can, right?”

She smiled in reply. “Well, thanks anyway. I really ought to let you get back to bed.”

He gave the contents of his mug a critical look, then downed the lot in one go. “You should think about it, too. Night, Twily.”

Despite his interrupted night, he awoke through sheer force of habit at 0630 and stumbled downstairs to go for a run. Pulling open the door of the library, he found himself face-to-face with a pale-blue Pegasus who had a hoof raised to knock. Rose-coloured eyes blinked in shock, and a second later she was right up in his face.

“And where do you think you're going, buddy?”

“Er-”

“Hmm? 'Cos I know you aren't supposed to be in there!” the mare demanded angrily.

He was forced to pull his head back as far as it would go to avoid going cross-eyed. “Well, actually-”

“Oh yeah? Huh, real likely! Who are you, anyway?”

There was a genteel cough and a refined voice said, “If you'd let him answer, Rainbow, we may just find out.”

Thank you, whoever-you-are! Sanity at last! He took a step backwards so he could take in both the irate, hovering Pegasus and the beautiful white Unicorn behind her. Twily's friends, of course. He cleared his throat. “I'm Twilight's brother.”

“Twilight's brother?” the other two repeated together.

The Unicorn recovered first. “I didn't know Twilight had a brother?”

“What's the betting she doesn't?” snapped the Pegasus, before zooming off up to pound on an upstairs window. The Unicorn gave him a practised, rather appraising smile.

“My name's Rarity, my good sir, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Shining Armour,” he replied. Above them, the Pegasus started calling for Twilight to come out. “You're Twilight's friends? She's written a lot about you all.”

“Oh, how lovely-” Rarity began, preening her flowing, blue mane and batting her eyelashes, but she was drowned out by the rattle of a window shooting up and a familiar, grumpy voice ranting from above.

“The door, Rainbow! For the love of Celestia, use the darn door! Do I have to draw you a picture? Maybe I can get somepony to tattoo it permanently for you on the back of your pastern?”

“Hey, it's not my fault!” the Pegasus exclaimed indignantly. “There's somepony in the way down there claiming to be your brother. Rarity and I caught him sneaking out.”

“That's because he is my brother, now can I go back to bed? Please?”

Rarity's smile had become positively predatory at the confirmation of his identity, and he didn't fancy being in the vicinity of one of his sister's legendary strops so he made his excuses with a weak smile. “Well, I was just going for a run, so I'll leave you three to catch up.”

He side-stepped the Unicorn and set off at a canter, trying to convince himself that it was purely exercise and not headlong flight from the mildly terrifying Unicorn – and he didn't mean his sister! He slowed down to his usual pace as he turned the corner out of their sight and headed north along Mane Street. So, Twily had never mentioned him to her friends? Suddenly, he didn't feel so bad about not finding the right moment to tell her about Cadence!

Dawn's light broke, as it always did at Sweet Apple Acres, across the rippling sea of apple trees stretching east and south to the Everfree Forest. Macintosh paused for a moment to see another day begin before turning back to his wagon and continuing to hitch himself in. He had no time for lollygagging around; most of the trees were in bloom but without his sister to help him, he would be lucky to finish the day's work by sun-down. Apple Bloom meant well, but she was just too young to help out – and besides, she had school to go to, anyway. Thankfully it was still relatively early in the season, but there was no way that he could handle apple-bucking season on his own. Applejack had better... well, she'd just better.

He was about to lean forward into his harness and head on out for the north-western orchard to see how the Golden Delicious and Braeburn trees were getting on when he heard the jingle of a light harness approaching, and moments later he spied Fluttershy trotting down the driveway. The dainty Pegasus had a little cart hitched on behind her, piled high with brightly-coloured boxes. When she pulled up alongside him, he could hear a deep, droning hum coming from them.

“Morning, Fluttershy,” he said quietly, with a gentle smile. She flinched a little and hid away behind the long fringe of her mane as she always did, and he felt the familiar jolt of regret that she somehow found him intimidating. Still, she did manage to mumble a quiet greeting of her own in that soft, breathy voice before an awkward silence grew between them.

“Is there something I can help you with?” he asked, feeling foolish. Fluttershy blushed a little, scuffing her hoof delicately in the dust.

“No. Well, yes – sort of. Um, I said to Applejack that I would bring my bees over to see if they would help pollinate your trees, but it's a little late now and I guess you've probably already done it so you won't need me,” she trailed off.

He stared at her in surprise for a moment. “Why, that's mighty kind of you, Fluttershy, I sure would appreciate it.”

One blue eye reappeared around the long, pink fringe. “Really?”

“Really,” he smiled reassuringly. “There's a whole lot o' things I need to do today and I'd be right grateful for help from anypony, especially with Applejack, well...”

“With Applejack away,” she finished for him in a curiously decisive voice. “You really need my help? I mean, I don't think I can buck apples or anything like that?”

He didn't want to admit it to her, but he'd never got along with bees – and he had the bee-stings to prove it. His tail twitched reflexively at the thought of the creepy little insects circling him threateningly. “If you can help with the bees, you'll be worth your weight in gold.”

“Okay.” Fluttershy blushed at his sincerity but looked pleased, too, and fell in by his side as he set off for the north-western orchard. Her narrow-wheeled cart bogged down a little in the soft, muddy patch past the second gate, but she struggled through without a word of complaint and his respect for her fortitude grew.

By the time they reached the little clearing around the gate of the north-west orchard, she even seemed to be enjoying herself. The sun was still too new to provide much warmth but birds greeted its light with full-throated enthusiasm, and a few even swooped down to flutter around her, chattering excitedly. Must be friends of hers, he thought, suppressing a smile.

“So, um, what now?”

“Now we see if your little friends will do the job for us. We got the Golden Delicious and Braeburns there in rows next to each other, and over the back there we got the Derbys and the Clopton Reds just coming into flower, too.”

“Okay.” She slipped out of her harness and lifted one of the buzzing boxes onto the ground. “Now, um, if you could just help me set the hives out, that would be really great.”

He hurried to help her, trying to ignore the louder, more eager tone coming from the hives. “Anywhere in particular? Facing the sun, or anything?”

“No, just there on the ground is fine, I mean, if that's OK with you?”

The job done, he turned to her expectantly... trying not to look like he was backing away. Fluttershy, though, simply started lifting the tops off the hives, calling out to the insects inside. “All right then, everybee, rise and shine! If you'd all just like to form up outside for me for a second, I have a little favour to ask you all?”

A yellow-and-black horde poured out of the hives, filling the air with their ominous buzzing, but instead of attacking their disturber they simply milled around in a thick swarm, covering the hives and the cart and even the ground while Macintosh calculated the most direct route to the millpond. Speed wouldn't be a problem; he reckoned even that loudmouth Rainbow Dash would be hard-pressed to keep up with him once he got going. In a contrast that he probably ought to find embarrassing, Fluttershy was hovering about halfway between the cart and the tree line, looking about as authoritative as he'd ever seen her.

“If I could just have your attention please, everybee? Now, we have a whole field here of delicious flowering apple trees and if it's all right with you, we'd like you to visit as many of them as you can today. You should be able to make lots of honey, so please try to visit as many different trees as you can and don't eat too much at once or you'll give yourself a thorax-ache. Now, um, if you'd all just like to follow me, we can get started?”

With that, she set off into the orchard and the massive swarm took flight. He watched in disbelief as she fluttered back and forth at treetop level with the comet tail of bees following her, peeling away in an orderly fashion on each pass to fall hungrily on the apple blossoms. Within minutes the air was filled with a blizzard of busy insects ferrying to and from the hives with their yellow cargo. He heard a soft giggle as she landed beside him, and he realised abruptly that he was catching... bees?

“Um, I hope that was OK?” she asked timorously.

He closed his mouth with a snap. “OK?” he repeated incredulously, “That's incredible! How did you do that?”

Fluttershy shrank back in on herself. “Oh! Well, um, if you explain what you want and it's the sort of thing that they do anyway, they usually do it. Mostly. I mean, some ponies say I have a way with animals, but it's just a matter of organisation, really.”

Darn it, ya big lunk, you know better than to startle her like that! “I'll take your word for it,” he said at last. “I know that when I try that sort of thing, I usually end up with half the trees missin' out and I'm pickin' stings outta my hide for a week.” He chuckled, spotting a chance to lighten the tone again. “That usually means me balancin' on a ladder dabbing at flowers with a little paintbrush, tryin' to do their job for 'em!”

To his delight, she laughed. “You know, maybe we could ask Rarity to make you up a little bee costume so that you don't scare the trees?”

He grinned at her. “I don't think it'd go with my yoke. What is it with gals and dressin' me up?”

Her eyes widened. “I'm sorry, Big Mac! I didn't mean-” she gasped.

“Now, don't you worry none about it, I was just havin' a little fun,” he reassured her. “Why, I remember once Applejack tried to talk into betting against her, but 'stead o' wagerin' chores if I lost, she wanted me to walk down Stirrup Street in one o' Granny's girdles!

She peeked out from behind her fringe again, a smile hovering on her lips. “A-and did you... you know?”

His smile widened. “Nope! She ended up scrubbin' down the wagons for a week instead. Normally I don't mind much, but that time I made an exception!”

That set her off giggling again, and after a few moments he reluctantly started to hitch himself back up to his wagon. “Well, I'm real sorry to leave you like this, but if I can leave you in charge of the bees, I really ought to be making a start on some other work 'round here.”

“Is it anything I can help you with?” she asked bravely.

He made a face. “Clearin' out irrigation ditches. 'Course you're always welcome, but takin' care of the bees and makin' sure these here trees are all pollinated would sure be a weight off of my mind. I'm jus' startin' yonder by the old mill pond and workin' my way back.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said in a low voice, her ears drooping.

“Although I'd be honoured if you'd join Granny and me for lunch?” he heard himself saying. “It's the least we can do after all your help this morning?”

She perked up again. “Thanks. I'd like that.”

“Any time, Fluttershy, you're always welcome.” He could feel himself starting to blush, and hurriedly shrugged his way into the harness. Bein' red sure has its advantages, sometimes. “Well, uh, I ought to be getting' on. Holler if you need me, I won't be far away.”

“Um, good luck, I guess?”

He had only gone a few paces when he stopped again and turned back to her. “Fluttershy? Can I ask you somethin'?”

“Sure, anything,” she said, looking at him curiously.

“Now, don't take this the wrong way, 'cause I'm right grateful you're here, but... given everything that's happened, I kinda expected that you'd be with Twilight and your other friends? I'm sorry, I ain't sayin' it right, but-”

“It's OK,” she said gently. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, the pink spots on her cheeks blooming. “You're right, there's a lot of awful things that have happened recently. I really can't do anything for Applejack right now and I know that the others will all be helping Twilight and I just thought, what about Big Macintosh? A-and Granny Smith and Apple Bloom? Who's thinking of them? And then I remembered arranging to bring the bees and I just thought, maybe there's something I can do that really will help somepony who's being forgotten?”

To his shock, he felt himself welling up. She really is the Element of Kindness, ain't she? “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “That really means a lot.”

He had a lot to think about as he set off for the mill pond.

Shining Armour paused outside the library and blew out his cheeks. Breakfast with his sister and her friends had been excruciating – in more than one way. After her sleepless night, Twilight had been almost monosyllabic, her face haggard and drawn. The Pegasus, Rainbow Dash was loud, brash, and boastful with him, but the second Twilight walked into the room, she became silent and watchful. In contrast the Unicorn, Rarity, was not only a shameless flirt but generally behaved like something out of the cheap, melodramatic historical romances that Cadence liked to giggle over occasionally, and while she surely meant well he wondered how long Twilight would tolerate her hamming it up. As it was he had nearly snapped at her to show some respect, and the mare looked strained and genuinely hurt. Maybe it was all an act, or a semblance of a carefree normality, but his patience was limited.

The streets of Ponyville looked busier than they had yesterday, the residents returning to a more normal life. A cream-coloured mare with a red mane and her pink, lime green-maned friend gave him a wave and a smile on the way past their flower stall, while shop owners were sweeping their doorsteps and setting out their wares. The street in front of the little police station was busy for another reason, however, and when the crowd saw his golden armour they surged toward him, hurling questions across each other.

“Can you comment on the Guard’s involvement in-”

“Have there been any developments overnight-”

“What can tell us about claims-”

“Colonel, can you confirm-”

Colonel? One of them has been doing their research, at any rate.

“Is it true that the investigation has been turned over to the CIA?”

“Has Princess Celestia made any comment on-”

He baulked at the flashbulbs flaring in his face before lowering his head slightly and boring straight through them to the Station door. As they had the previous day, they fell back at his advance but the volleys of questions continued. He contemplated just continuing inside but it just might be possible to stop the rumours before they got too wild.

He turned to face them at the door, and an expectant hush fell almost immediately.

“Good morning. My name is Colonel Shining Armour of the Royal Equestrian Guard. Now, I can see that you all have questions but I am afraid I am not in a position to answer them; however I can confirm that a separate inquiry is under way to determine whether the death of the victim is in any way related to Royal Equestrian Guard operations in the area at the time. The body was in fact discovered by a detachment of Royal Equestrian Guardsponies, and I am present to liaise with police and facilitate their interviews with the Guardsponies in question. In addition, the Royal Equestrian Guard is working with Ponyville Police to provide extra security at the scene. All aspects of the investigation remain in the hooves of the police and no comment on the on-going investigation will be made at this time. Thank you.”

The questions flew thick and fast but he turned his back on them and slipped through the station door. It was swiftly slammed shut and as he turned he heard bolts being slid across by the pale-blue Pegasus behind him.

“Feeding the animals, Colonel?” she asked, amused.

He made a face. “I hoped it might keep some of the more imaginative rumours in check. And I should have said yesterday, call me Shining Armour.”

“Likewise – I prefer Autumn.”

“Where’s Nightjack?” he asked, following her into the custody suite. He got a bright greeting from the Constable, Bluebell, who was collecting a tray from Applejack's cell. Great Celestia, she’s young!

“Out checking the scene; he wanted to make sure that nopony got creative overnight.”

“I should probably do the same,” he said. “That shield won't hold up forever.”

“He won’t be long, I don’t think. In the meantime, Bluebell has today’s papers for us.”

“Always make sure you know what the enemy are doing,” Bluebell said with a nod towards the table.

Autumn’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s awfully cynical of you, Bluebell! There may be hope for you yet!”

Bluebell giggled in response, rather ruining the impression of added maturity, while Shining Armour turned his attention to the newspapers scattered across the table. Unsurprisingly, the story was a front-page lead even despite the relative lack of hard facts.

The Trottingham Times went for a more slightly less conservative approach.

The Fox had outdone itself; the headline and sub-heading were in font so large that it took up almost the entire front page, and the only other 'headlines' were squeezed into two small boxes down the right side.

Meanwhile, the Herald had taken the peculiar journalistic resort of throwing random words into the headline which, while individually correct, resembled something of a cryptic crossword question when taken together.

Shaking his head at the abstruseness of their editor, he turned to the last one, a thin effort printed on the cheapest of newsprint. Even the effort of plucking it out of the pile left ink smudges on his hooves.

He blinked and checked the headline of the last paper again; the photo of a little filly scowled out of the page at him.

“The local schoolfoals run a newspaper. Occasionally it’s good for gossip,” Bluebell explained sheepishly.

“Uh... I think we can give this one a miss,” he said, dropping it back on the table.

“Then perhaps this might be more up your street,” said Autumnn, dropping a sheaf of typed sheets in front of him. “It's the report from last night; they got one of the night staff at the hospital to type it up for us and it's only just been delivered.”