Okay, okay, fine. My turn to tell a story, ey? Price of a pint, is it. Okay, okay, fine.

So yer wantin' t' know how I ended up with this lot? Well, it'sa bit of an odd one, strewth. ...Oy, Wolftooth, out o' me drink! There's a pint comin' for you an' your crew, just keep yer wings on, aright? Aright.

Now you all know how I ended up in Darth Vulcan's crew, right? I show up with a gang of fugitives of justice, squeal on some flathoofs hiding in our number and the next thing I know I'm his right hoof pony, a dozen tricks in either saddlebag and a hat full o' more, Pretty little filly for a maidservant, quarters fit for a king, bits drippin' out of me pockets, the works. And he'd barely gotten out of the gate, even. And Darth Vulcan he has plans, big plans... conquering the world? Psh. Bigger.

Well, like I said. He was just starting out. And I hadn't been with him all that long, and well, I was hidin' it but I was kind of jumpy still. Lots of dark overlord type blokes come and gone wot had big big plans, and now where were they? More important, where were all their loyal followers, then? Mister Big Bad ends up as a statue in Sunbutt's front yard, but the rest of his mooks don't get even that. His Nibs has been lucky so far, but....

Hey now, don't be thinkin' that. I'm loyal to His Nibs, leastwise I ain't dumb enough to try and double cross him. But come along a few months and one long winter of sittin' idle, I started thinking that the good times might stop rolling someday, and I'd better be ready to jump off when the ride came to a stop.

Was only a fiddly little idea at that point.  Didn't really have much to build on it, though. I could stash some gold for if Eiderdown and I had to bugger out, and I had the bag full o' tricks Vulcan taught to me and gave me... but that weren't much. Even a saddlebag of gold would go fast and tricks are just that.. tricks.

I was payin' attention, see. The first thing I learned from Darth Vulcan is that no matter who you were, you needed a crew. Family, minions, best mates, it's all the same... you need folks who had your back, even if they did it for what you paid em. This, in my case, was problematic. I was His Nibs' right hoof pony, but I din't have a crew of my own. I had ponies who jumped when I said frog, but they did because they was loyal to His Nibs, not me. Aaaand because I could make their lives merry hell if they gave me trouble... but that's not a crew. Even Eiderdown was still kind of....

Well.

Anyhow, I needed to do summat about that, right? At the time, though, I was havin' other, more immediate troubles...

With a moan that was half-shout, Dodger thrashed to wakefulness. Pillows and coverlets were flung aside. He sat bolt upright, panting.

It took him several minutes to become aware of his surroundings. He was in his chambers, in his bedroom, lying in the enormous four poster bed, swimming in silk and satin. All the familiar, gaudy if swanky decorations of his room were around him, the lights dimmed for the night. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Including himself.

Eiderdown was standing next to the bed, looking alarmed, hesitating to step any closer. "Dodger! Are-- are you all right?"

"Wha?" He looked at her, blinking stupidly.

She bit her lip. "It... was it another nightmare?" she asked.

Dodger groaned and rolled over onto his belly, nodding. He'd been having them almost every night since before winter started. "Back rub," he said.

Eiderdown quietly climbed up on the bed next to him and began kneading his withers with her hooves. "Do you... remember anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. The dreams were always the same. "I'm alone with somepony. A guard, or one of the ponies me mum used to date, or some roughneck like what lived on me street when I was a foal. Dunno. Just someone big and awful and scary. I know who they are, I even know their name, but I can never remember later....They're rifling through things, dumping stuff on the floor, looking for summat, and they keep asking... I can't remember what. And I can't stop them. And then I wake up."

The nightmare was always the same, and he always woke up with his muscles knotted from stress, from the base of his skull all the way down his shoulders and spine.  Eiderdown's massage was the only thing that helped it go away. In a way he was almost grateful for the dreams; he'd never gotten the nerve to ask her for anything more than a back rub.

And it was really the only time she seemed to be friendly to him... to act like she liked him. With a mental pout he pushed the thought away. "Bugger all," he grumped. "His Nibs put up all them dream-blocking spells to block Princess Luna from spying on us. gave us these runes..." he tapped a hooftip on the wooden tags hanging around his neck. "I thought it was supposed to keep us safe from nightmares!"

Eiderdown's hooves paused. "No, wait. That's backwards," she said suddenly. " Princess Luna is supposed to chase away bad dreams. Maybe that's why you're having nightmares. Because the runes are keeping her out."

Dodger lifted his head up off the bed. "D'you really think?" he said, surprised. "That really could be it. I'm hearin' His Nibs has some trouble sleepin', too..." then he scowled and let his chin fall back to the mattress. "Meh. No matter. Better just to deal with some bad dreams, than risk Her Mooniness getting in our heads and finding out where we are." He shuddered.

There was a long pause as Eiderdown's hooves worked their way up his neck, untying the knot at the base of his skull. "Why... why is the dream so scary to you?" she asked. "I mean, it's not a nice dream, but..." she left the question hanging.

He lay there and scowled at one of the pillows. "Because.... I can't do anything," he said. "I'm helpless. I just have to stand there watching them turn the place inside out, smug as you please, and I can't do anything. Because I'm weak, and I'm all alone." His scowl deepened, turned reflective. "'Cause I've got nopony who's got my back." He brooded.

"Why I hate th' Guard so much. Tossers used to roust us out of our own house from time to time, tearin' stuff up, knockin' stuff over lookin' for 'contraband.' " His scowl deepened. "Ain't nuffin but bullies wit' badges. Like to give all of 'em what they gots comin' to 'em."

He sat up suddenly. "Reminds me. Summit I been meanin' to give you," he said. His magic pulled his panniers over to the bed. He flipped them open and began fishing around inside. "Bit o' memento from when we balanced accounts with yer hometown.... an' that tosser Sergeant who made your lives hell." He pulled out a set of dog tags dangling from a thin chain. He held them out to her, almost shyly.

She reached out a hoof, then drew back. "Are those...?" she said.

He nodded, and gave her a smirk. "His tags," he said. "Took 'em as a prize o' war, you might say." He put them in her hoof. "Nopony messes wit my doll, ducklin'. Anypony ever messes with you, you tell me. I'll make you a charm bracelet out of their teeth."

She didn't look up from the puddle of chain and tin cradled in the frog of her hoof. "Did... did you really break all four of his legs..?"

He grinned, started to speak, grimaced, closed his mouth, started again. "Not.... really," he admitted. "Plucked all the feathers out of his wings, scared the whole year's worth of road apples out of him---" she snerked in spite of herself. "But he did the rest to himself."

"To himself?" she stared at him.

Dodger shrugged. "Got so scared he flipped his lid and jumped out a second-story window," he said. "Heh. He kinda didn't realize 'ow many feathers I'd yanked out in the fight, and...." he drew an arc down to the ground with his free hoof and whistled on a descending note. "'Es in a wheelchair, but 'e'll be on his own hooves again. Eventually."

She stifled a spluttered laugh. She clapped her hoof to her mouth. "Oh, I'm horrible for laughing," she said, horrified. She looked down. "I'm... glad you didn't."

"Why? He deserved it! Believe me... I talked to the tosspot. 'E was even worse than you all said!" It came out a little angrier than he meant; he still felt guilty that he hadn't given the bullying ex-Guard a proper thrashing himself.

"I know! And it's hypocritical of me, I know it."  She shook her head. "Just...  breaking somepony's legs like that. Crippling them for life. That would have been going too far--!" She looked at him. "Once you go past a point... there's no going back to where you were." Her eyes were filled with worry.

His face fell. He got up and threw his panniers over his back, and summoned his horn ring and hat and other odds and ends to him. "You got no idea how far I've already gone, ducklin'," he said. He looked around. "....Clean this place up while I'm out."

"Where are you going?" she asked. "....In case Lord Vulcan asks."

"Out," Dodger said. "I got some thinkin' to do."With that he trotted out the door.

It was one of the rules that anypony going in or out had to go past the armory and pick up-- or drop off-- a weapon. A subtle, but easy way to keep track of who was in the base and who was not. Dodger stopped off at the armory, slapped on a monster repellent charm and a bone knife, and went out.

The winter had not been spent idle, nor the early Everfree spring. Thanks to the Flim Flam brother's tunnel digging machine, the outposts, sub-lairs, drop points and emergency supply stashes were now connected by a rambling web of tunnels and surface paths. Early on, Dodger left the safety of the tunnels for the (relative) safety of the trails above. The Everfree was still as dangerous and filled with dangerous flora and fauna as before, but most of it had learned to avoid the trails along which Darth Vulcan and his minions walked. Most of the forest could now be traversed in the relative safety of the earthen tunnels...

Dodger wasn't in the mood for that. It was day, and he needed fresh air and sunshine to think. He beelined for the nearest surface door and started his walkabout.

One might question the wisdom of going out alone into the Everfree. To which it can only be replied that Artful Dodger was, after all, a teenager, with a teenager's arrogance and illusions of immortality. Then again, Artful Dodger was no soft little townie. He was a street rat, born and raised on the roughest streets in Canterlot. (1) He was also magically armed to the teeth, with a literal stormcloud of nightmares stuffed under his top hat, bottled lightning in his horseshoes, and enough assorted trinkets, nasties and a steadily growing library of dirty pool magic tricks at hoof to make crossing him in a dark alley a regrettable proposition. So his self- confidence wasn't entirely misplaced.

Still, he would have been wiser to remember that the Everfree had a few nasty tricks of its own, yet, and that there were more than just nasty animals and toxic plants. There was magic loose in that forest, and fey things that thrived in it--- and they had agendas of their own.

It was nearly an hour after starting his impromptu nature hike that he realized that the trail he'd been following had gone and wandered off on him. He was well off what passed for the sunlit path, and deep into the gloom of the trees. Cursing, he sat down on a fallen log (after giving it a sufficient beating with a stick to make sure it wasn't housing anything with claws, fangs or stingers, and for that matter didn't have any of its own) and contemplated his situation.

Or, more accurately, sulking. "Ruddy heck," he grumbled. "Mares. Don't understand 'em. She calls for vengeance on a whole town. Whole town gets leveled, and bob's yer uncle, she's all fine with that.  I goes out, take vengeance out on the stallion who'd tormented her right personal, get my own hooves bloody,  and when I give her a trophy of it she acts all sick and horrified about it!" He puffed out his cheeks and stewed over it. Somewhere in the back of his mind the idea nibbled that maybe a hundred empty flattened buildings was a statistic, but a single broken leg was a tangible reality? "I got no clue, do I," he muttered.

He wanted her. Desperately. Wanted her to love him, Tartarus, just to LIKE him.  It was maddening. She was there, just within reach. But she still looked at him like she thought he was going to... pounce on her and have his way with her, or flip out and hurt her, or something. Like he was...

"Like I'm a sleazy street rat," he said aloud. He went from a sulk to a funk. This was supposed to clear his head, not make him feel lousier. "No girl, no mates, no plan for what comes next." He looked around. "And lost in the Everfree. Bugger." He wasn't particularly concerned even now; he could easily send out a magical cry for help to Darth Vulcan through the ring on his horn. the only reason he hadn't was because he was too disgruntled at looking the fool in front of the minions. He could practically hear them laughing now...

His ears twitched. No, he could actually hear laughing. Curious, he looked around. Something small and bewinged fluttered through the air around him, tittering at him in a high, bell like voice.He blinked. "A Breezy?"

It was. One of the tiny fairy ponies was fluttering in front of him. She was bright yellow, with translucent wings and a billowing cloud of yellow, dandelion-fluff hair that floated around her head. She was dressed in a leaf, folded double like a poncho, and tied around her middle with a string of white beads. She flew up to him and yarbled at him in Breezy-speak. "Blimey," Dodger said. "What're you doin' way out 'ere in the Everfree? I fought you lot were too frail to be running about round places like this?"

He didn't know if she understood him, but she yammered something back at him anyway. She bobbled her antennae at him and, with a sly look, darted away among the trees. Caught by surprise he leapt to his hooves and galloped after. He was baffled. How was she flying so fast? Weren't breezies supposed to be weak and fragile? A single leaf or a gust of wind was supposed to be enough to knock them for a loop...

She slowed down after a bit, keeping him following at a slow trot. Soon other breezies made their appearance, following along, flitting from bush to flower to tree, chattering to one another and giggling at him. He was starting to go from fascinated to wary. That laughter didn't sound entirely friendly, and some of the smiles they were giving him made him uneasy.

After who knew how many twists and turns, they led him stumbling into a glen.  

The glen was cast in twilit gloom, overshadowed and roofed in by gnarled trees and bedded with mossy boulders. Standing at its center was an enormous oak, riven by lightning and hollowed by age. A faint glow came from inside.

All around were breezies. They floated around the little clearing and especially around the lightning blasted tree, going about Maker only knew what breezie business. They saw him standing at the edge of the clearing and came floating over, chattering and laughing, and slowly surrounded him. They seemed very excited to see him.

He stared openly at them. He'd never seen anything but pictures before, but these breezies looked rougher, somehow. Their makes and tails were carelessly groomed, either bound up with twine in stiff braids or flying loose around their heads and haunches. Their clothes were increasingly alarming; it wasn't just made of leaves and flower petals. He saw ragged scraps of fur, bits of crude armor made of bark lashed together with dried grass, even a bit of what looked like shed snake skin. He saw crude spears and knives, and all of them, like the first he'd seeen, were wearing (for their size) outlandishly large bits of white beads or....

He stiffened. No. Those weren't beads or pebbles. Those were teeth.

As they gathered in a cloud around him, cutting off his retreat, he started getting an idea of just how he lost track of the trail he'd been on....

One of them flew up to hover in front of him. It was a tiny blue stallion with an enormous shock of red mane that stood out like he'd been struck with lightning. Dodger guessed it had to be their...chieftain? He carried himself like one, anyway, and wore an enormous wolf's tooth on a thong around his neck. "Vhu ere-a yuoo, Beeggoon? Vhy yuoo here-a? Vhet yuoo du? Eha, yuoo theenk yuoo cun Infede-a oooor terreetury!"  he crowed.

Dodger jerked back. "Oy, now, I ain't invadin' nobody's territory! Mindin' me own business, I was--" He looked back the way he came, and noticed that the path behind looked nothing like it had before. In fact it was fading away even now. He'd been tutored by Darth Vulcan long enough to put two and two together. He glared at the breezies floating around him. "Least I was till somepony put a glamour on my path." He fixed his eye on the little yellow-haired breezie he'd first seen. She had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Dun't cere-a hoo yuoo gut here-a! I, Cheeeff Vulfftuut, sey yuoo Trespesseeng noo!" The redhead crossed his forelegs and smirked triumphantly, as if that settled the matter. "Noo yuoo hefe-a tu pey zee tull !"

"What toll?" Dodger said, scowling.

"Vut yuoo pey ef'n yuoo effer vant to find yer vey oot agin," Wolftooth said, waving casually at the surrounding trees. Even as Dodger cast around looking for a path out of the glen, the breezies' feelers glowed, and the paths between the trees suddenly became hard to make out.

"Why you little cobbers!" Dodger snarled. "SO that's your game is it? The old toll-road con!" The setting may have been odd but the gambit was old hat; detour people down a back alley, have a few tough standing there to collect a "toll" from anyone unlucky enough to take that wrong turn. "There'll be tea parties in Tartarus afore I pay you little shites any 'toll!'"

"Oh, yuoo be peyin', Biggun," Wolftooth said. "Yuoo be peyin' in gold, uor in vork--- uor in TEETH." His smug little smirk turned into a malevolent, toothy grin. All around, the breezies began chanting.

"Teeth! Teeth! Teeth! Teeth!"

They edged closer. To Dodger's alarmed eyes, the tiny crude tools and weapons they were carrying started taking on a decidedly dental look. "Oh bugger this for a hearthwarming lark," he said. His horn flared, and a blast of magic swept the tiny bloodthirsty mob back. They screeched like angry chickadees as they went tumbling. Before they could right themselves he whipped his hat off and flourished it around him, spraying Nightmare Mist in every direction.

In an instant, the glen was festooned with cobwebs. Then came the skittering, the glittering of multiple tiny eyes, and dozens of ghostly spiders big enough to catch songbirds in their webs began descending from the canopy. The breezies shrilled in terror and flew into a panic, darting in every direction trying to flee the illusory predators. Dodger indulged in a little schadenfreude and let them race about in a panic for a minute or two before dispelling the mists. Those breezies had some coherent fears; some of the black inky fog was forming into something huge, unpleasant and multilegged when the mists dissolved and the illusions faded.

While the others dashed for safety, Dodger lassoed Wolftooth and the blonde one with his magic and dragged them back to himself. He held them tight in his grip as the illusions dissolved. He gave them both a shake. "Thot you'd 'ave a giggle, did ya?" he yelled in their faces. "Try and roll ME, will ya? I'm the bloody right hoof stallion o' Darth Vulcan, Lord of the Everfree, you li'l pigeon turds... Oy, none o' that!"

...For the female had started crying. She was outright bawling, dewdrop sized tears rolling down her tiny yellow face. "Ve-a veren't gueeng tu hoort yuoo--oo-oo," she boohooed.

"You were gonner yank me teef out!"

"Nut. ... nut reelly, joost vunted tu scere-a yuoo!" Wolftooth insisted, shaking his head.  "Ve-a deedn't ifee vunt yuoor guld, reelly. Ve-a joost vuoolda mede-a yuoo du sume-a vurk fur us, zeen let yuoo gu. Hunest!" His antennae drooped. "Ve-a needed a Beeggoon tu du zee vurk fur us... tu help us. .. "

"Well foalnappin' blokes an' threatenin' to do amateur dentistry on 'em ain't the way to get it!" Dodger snapped.

At this the mare burst from wails into outright howls, tears practically spraying everywhere. "Veer so-o-orrry," she howled. "Ve-a deedn't meen it..."

Dodger turned red, his cheeks puffing out, and gave up. "Don't matter 'ow wrong she were or 'ow right yer were, the minute a mare starts cryin' a stallion might as well just give over, lie down and DIE,"  he growled to himself. He lessened his magic grip on them, summoned a kerchief from his pannier and dabbed at her face. "Aright aright aright," he muttered, face flaming. "Turn off the waterworks, tiny." She snuffled and finally blew her tiny nose in the silk. "Aright, now, wot in ruddy heck was this mess all about anyway?"

Wolftooth slipped out of his grip and fluttered towards the lightning-split tree. "Come, Goldenrod und I, ve show yuoo," he said.

"No tricks!"

"Nuu, nuu moar tricks, ve promise..."

The tree was tilted steeply to one side; it wasn't an easy climb for a pony, but it was at least possible. Dodger clambered up the trunk till he reached the split-open top, panting and clinging to one of the dead limbs. There were tiny tree houses all over,  braided up in the branches, dug out of knotholes in the trunk and limbs, even down inside the hollow. Wolftooth fluttered up beside him and pointed down inside.

"Wots all this then?" Dodger said, looking down in surprise. Down in the bottom of the hollow tree was a huge pile of teeth. Animal teeth, pony teeth, snake teeth, he didn't know all the kinds. The pile glowed from within like a heap of coals.

Wolftooth hovered next to his ear, stage-whispering. "Thees is zee suoorce-a ooff oooor megeec," he said.

Dodger turned his head to look at him, surprised. "I fought breezies got their magic from the chuffin' pollen they gathered," he said. "Evry year they leave their magic portal and travel across Equestria, and gather---"

Goldenrod made a rude noise next to his ear. "Those breezies?" she said. "They a bunch of vussies!"

"They use plant magic, seed magic," Wolftooth said with a snort. "And look vere it gets dem. Most mageecal pollen frum all ovar Ekvestria, und it's barely enough to keep dere little pocket realm vorking. Und dey're so weak und frail a stray leaf or a puoff of vind can knock them oot. Thees," he said proudly, "Thees is old magic, bone magic. Strongker den any pollen. Makes us ten, tventy times strongker den any flower breezy." He spat derisively over the side of the tree. "Dose veenies run us off t'ousands of years ago. If it veren't for tooth magic, ve couldn't survive."

"Why'd they run you off, then?"

"They said usink teeth vas too creepy," Goldenrod said sadly. "Voosies" a breezy in the distance shouted.

"Fer a vile, vay back ven, ve had goot deal mit der Princesses," Wolftooth said. "Der little vuns, giff us their teeth, ve giff them a shiny coin, und sveet dreams. But vun day der princesses haff a big fight... und den der castle vas abandoned. Then der town. Und der Efferfree grew, und spread... ve haff to fly farder und farder to find der Biggun villages, und little vuns, und pretty soon ve usink more magic to get dere den ve gets back from der tooth ve find..." he shrugged. "Ve vas stuck here."

"Cause ve dunt haff enuff magic no more!" Wolftooth said. "Look--" he pointed at the tooth hoard. As Dodger watched, two or three of them crumbled to ash. "Tooth magic dunt last furevar. Ve gather animal teeth, lizard teeth, fish teeth... it's nevar enuff. It takes all ve haff to fend off der preadators in der voods...." he looked at the forest pressing in on the hollow fearfully. "If ve try to move to a new place, efen if ve find vun..."

Dodger got the picture. Dwindling magic. Plenty of magic to protect their little hollow for now, so long as they piled it all up in one heap. But not enough magic to sustain them till they got to a new place. Fending off the forest predators as they traveled would probably eat through their tooth supply in no time.... even if they had some place to go.

Wolftooth hovered beside his ear. "Und ve haff tu muove soon," he said, his voice low. "Der vards protecting the glen are failink. If der Nuupspaiders retorn again---"

"Noop whats?" Dodger said. Before he could get an answer a chorus of screams rose all around. Breezies who had been hiding in the foliage came swirling in towards the tree, fleeing something in the shadows. Something that chittered and skuttled and had hundreds of tiny, red eyes.

Whatever it was came swarming out of the gloom. Dodger felt his heebies join his jeebies and do a twenty-million leg dance up his spine as dozens of spiders came skittering out of the tall grass. Spiders bigger than his hoof. Spiders with a quite explicit resemblance to eight-legged, fanged skulls.

"Oh, NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE!" Without realizing it he'd gotten twenty feet higher and was now hanging by his forehooves from a dangerously creaking branch. The breezies had taken the cue and were flying upward to the imagined safety of the boughs, but their retreat was cut off when a dozen more of the horrid spiders dropped down out of the canopy on lines of gruesome silk. The breezies stopped, their escape thwarted, but not all of them were fast enough to veer off. As Dodger watched several of the tiny ponies were snared by the dangling silk and dragged into the grasp of the spiders. Their screams of horror were heart-wrenching. One filly nearby wailed "no no no no" over and over as the spider proceeded to wrap her in silk.

Dodger and Darth Vulcan had more in common than either of them knew; her cries of horror transformed his fear into an alchemy of rage. "Oy, claws off, ya arse-faced wanker!" he yelled. Borrowed dark magic from his ring lashed out, splattering the offending spider into  crunchy bits. The tiny filly was still bitten and half-cocooned, but she was safe for the moment... he looked around and saw at least half a dozen others fighting for their lives. He could almost swear he could hear the venomous spiders chuckling.

"I SAID SOD OFF!" he roared. Among the other toys His Nibs and Her Buggyship had given him was a red ruby earring stud. As well as being a snazzy accessory, it had one other ability. WIth a flick of thought the gem glowed red, flared like a star. Pencil-thin flames lashed out in every direction, and every bit of spider silk in a hundred yard radius burned. Spiders tumbled to the ground, legs flailing, and every cocoon flashed to ash without so much as singing a single breezie hair. Every breezie flew to carry their wounded kin to safety, swarming around the half-treed Biggun.

Dodger kept lashing the scuttling mass below with shots of flame. "Hah! Take that, yew ugly cobbers--" and with an unhappy, final CRACK, the branch he was clinging to broke through and he tumbled to the ground. He was fortunate, very fortunate. One or two smaller branches snapped under him as he tumbled, breaking his fall.... and he landed hooves down, foursquare, on the spiders.

Deep in the unconscious mind of all Equestrian ponies is a full set of horsey instincts. And one of the oldest is that when something nasty, say a rat or a nest of snakes, is around one's hooves, one proceeds to stamp, vigorously. At the moment Artful Dodger was ankle deep in skuttly, legged-y, red-eyed Nope-Spiders right out of his nightmares that were big enough to wear doggy sweaters.

And thus was Equestria introduced to Riverdance.

Dodger promptly, as Wolftooth described it later, "Vent completely buggerdeboo." He proceeded to bounce around the glen screaming and yodeling, kicking and stamping and doing a mad tarantella like Micheal Flaherty on amphetamines. Lightning shot in every direction from his jackhammering hooves; magic, both borrowed from his horn ring and straight from the horn, lashed madly in every direction. Legs and other crunchy bits flew. The ground boiled like an ink-pot with nightmare fog; it was doubtful whether the crab-sized spiders had the intellect to have fears but, if they did, the scrawny pony of trampling doom surely featured in the spidery nightmares of the survivors from then on.

Wolftooth watched Dodger's rampage for a moment. The biggun was keeping them away from the tree. He was driving them back! But more spiders lurked in the shadows... as powerful as the unicorn was, he would be overrun---

With his mouth set in a grim line, Wolftooth dove down into the breezie's hoard. He began chanting, his antennae glowing. The coal-fire light grew and redoubled, became a blazing bonfire, molars and fangs and baby teeth crumbling to ash by the dozens to feed the light. With a final shout, the spell was released. There was a silent explosion, and a wave of golden light burst from the tree, sweeping the grass and the trees, sending Nope-spiders flying with their carapaces cracked and their legs shattered.

Finally the carnage stopped. Bug guts were splattered everywhere. Here and there a disembodied leg twitched; anything larger that hadn't fled had been stamped upon twice, then stamped upon again just to be safe. Standing in the center was Artful Dodger. His hat was askew, his mane was in disarray, and his legs were stained to the knee with bug juice.  He stood spraddle legged, wall eyed, going "Eeeh, Aaaah, EEee, Aaaaah" as his spasms slowed.

High above, the Wolftooth clan clustered together in the boughs of their home tree. A speckled breezy colt spoke for them all.

"Hu Lee Shmidt...."

The breezies exploded into cheers. They swarmed down around Dodger, shouting his praises. He found more than one filly showering his face with tiny little kisses of gratitude. "Ey now, you'll make me girl jealous," he said, blushing.

Not every breezie was celebrating. Wolftooth floated dolefully over. The cheering faded away. "Vell, thet's pretty mooch dune-a fur it,"He said dully. "Zee tuut peele-a is elmust boorned oooot.  Oooor megeec isn't strung inuoogh tu fend ooffff zee munsters uny mure-a. Oonce-a yuoo're-a gune-a, Biggun, zee speeders veell be-a beck, und vurse-a. Und ve'll be-a overrun."

Countless tiny faces fell, feelers drooping. "Vat do ve do?" somepony cried. Nopony answered.

"Veel lead yuoo to der path back, Biggun," Wolftooth said. "Ve owe yuoo a debt uff gurtitude, und der Vulftoot tribe fureffer owes yuoo a boon. Nut dot I knows how ve can pay it nu more mitout our meegic...."

Dodger blinked. Then a slow, sly grin spread across his face. "Well now, how about this," he said. "Instead of a boon-- how about a deal?"

Wolftooth looked up at him, head cocked and eyebrow raised. "A deal?"

"Aye. You need a new home, right? Well, I needs me a crew.... blokes. Minions. ponies wot works for me, and has my back. You lot come works for me, give me an oath o' loyalty and all, and I'll give you a safe new place to live. Warm, dry, plenty of space...." the breezies started looking interested. "And, I'll keep you flush with food, and gold.... and teeth."

Wolftooth looked skeptical. "How?"

Dodger's smirk could have split his head in two. "Howsabout a down deposit?" he said, and pulled his dagger out of his saddlebag. A quick flick of his horn to sever the thong binding the grip in place, and stuck the blade in the ground before them.

Some time ago, Darth Vulcan had slain a dragon in rather spectacular and messy fashion. There had been nothing left of the skull, but there had been more than enough teeth to go around. They had been gathered up from where they had been scattered, along with the rest of the dragon's head, around the treasure cave, and made into stout daggers. The largest ones had been given to Darth Vulcan's highest ranking diamond dogs and were prized possessions, but there were still quite a few lying about the weapons stores.

Wolftooth gasped and landed before it. He stepped forward and laid a hoof on it, almost reverently. It was easily three times Wolftooth's height. "A draguun's tooth," he said in awe. "Eet vuld giff us half the mageec uf our old hoard by eetself, and vuld last years---!" The others drifted down to circle the monolithic fang, cooing in awe. They lifted their forehooves in the air and began raising a ululation that made the mane on the nape of Dodger's neck stand up. Yes indeed, they were happy with that tooth.

After a minute the ululation died down. They lifted off and gathered together in a flurry, swirling about and chattering to one another in breezie-speak. When the commotion died down, Wolftooth flew to the fore and addressed Artful Dodger. "Biggun--"

"The name's Artful Dodger," the colt said blithely.

"Urtful Duodger, I geef yuoo our oat uff loyalty. Der Vulftuut clan is yuoors tu command!" The breezies met this with a rousing cheer.

"Well then, mates," Dodger said cheerfully. "You lot had better pack up. We got us a bit of a walk ahead of us!"

Being a Dark Overlord has a lot of, I don't know, issues that come with it that most people never think about. Like, for instance, everyone knows about the whole "never looking weak" thing. Most writers and authors assume that just refers to never letting anyone see you're sick or injured. Yeah, that's obvious. But how about never letting them see you go to the can? Or wondering if cracking a joke with a minion or not-so-trusted lieutenant is going to make them think you're going soft? You had to keep up this larger-than-life routine every second when you were in public. Granted, this was Equestria; their idea of tough was having your breakfast cereal without any milk. But It was still a constant strain.

Yeah, I relaxed that part of it around Chrysalis, but.... with her it would have been pointless anyway. She was an emotivore, she could tell by my emotions whether I was nervous or scared or needed to go take a pee. It just so happened that for now her agenda coincided with mine, or at least with keeping me alive and in charge, so she helped cover for me when she sensed my iron mask was slipping. Between us, we had the corner market on big, bad and scary.

Of course there are some things you just can't compensate for. There we are, in the throne room (again, sigh), Me in my Conan the Spaceball armor sitting on the throne, her in her slinky black outfit draped over it, Eiderdown at my elbow with a serving tray in her wingtips, piles of gold at my feet and armor clad warriors all around, resplendent in our dark and sinister glory, with some seriously intimidated petitioners before me--- and in comes Artful Dodger, fashionably late, swaggering jauntily along with his hat cocked to one side, and surrounded by a gaily colored cloud of fluttery cute tinkerbell fairies.

The garland of meadow flowers around his neck certainly didn't help.

"Greetin's, Yer Dark Lordship," he said cheerfully. He took a deep bow even as giggling pony pixies continued planting daisies in his mane.

I facepalmed. I was doing that lots, lately. "Dodger," I said, waving one hand hopelessly. "What...?"

"Allow me to present me staff an' crew," he said, standing up. "These are the Wolftooth clan, tooth breezies of the Everfree forest." At the words 'tooth breezies' Chrysalis let out a strangled squawk and scooted back behind the throne. I took a moment to cock an eyebrow at her odd behavior but didn't say anything. "This here," Dodger went on, pointing at a wild-maned redheaded minipony that had landed on the crown of his hat, "Is Wolftooth, clan leader."

The tiny winged pony stood up to his full four inch height and thumped his chest with a hoof. "Ve are de Vulftuut clan, Ve haff svorn our service to der great and mighty Artfool Dujjer, und vill serv mit our meager lifes! bork bork bork! "

Dammit, I had just taken my goblet from Eiderdown's serving tray and taken a drink when I heard him speak. I just barely managed to direct the spray from the spit-take away from anyone. You're just not prepared to be addressed by a tiny flying Swedish Chef. I hastily wiped my chin and set my goblet back down. "Dodger, you'd better explain yourself-- Chrysalis, what the hell is wrong with you?" I was interrupted in mid lecture when I noticed that Chrysalis was all but hiding behind the throne, and weirdly enough scrunching up her muzzle trying to purse her lips over her fangs.

"Are you out of your mind??" she somehow managed to mumble at me out of the corner of her mouth. "Those are Tooth Breezies!"

I stared at her. "What, like tooth fairies?" I said under my breath. "Collect baby teeth, leave bit coins under your pillow, that sort of thing?"

She gave up on trying to talk with her mouth closed. "Yes, that's what ponies say about them now," she she hissed in my ear. "But in the really, really old stories, they didn't always wait until the teeth fell out." She went back to hiding her fangs behind her lips and covered her mouth with her hands for good measure.

My mind raced. I also thought about the fact that their chieftain was wearing a wolf's fang around his neck on a thong; a whole wolf's fang.... roots and all.

I didn't have time to think much beyond that; the ponies in front of me started chuckling. Artful Dodger had come waltzing in while I was in the middle of talks with.... let's call them emissaries... from a Manehattan gangster who was interested in buying safe passage through the Everfree for smuggling stolen and illegal goods. Their leader-- a fat black pony stallion in a cheesy looking leisure suit and gold necklaces-- was chortling like an evil Santa Claus. "Well la de dah," he said. "Ain't DIS somethin."

That was just the wrong button to push with Dodger. "You 'avin' a giggle, mate?" he said, his eyes slitted.

"Yeah," the mob pony said. "Laughin' at you, Flower Filly. Boy, wait'll the boss hears this... Big Bad Darth Vulcan of the Woods and his sidekick--- the Pansy Princess of the Breezies." He chortled till his fat belly shook.

Dodger just smiled. "Wolftooth? Teach this cobber some manners." Wolftooth took to the air. Almost as one the breezies gathered in a swarm around him and flew over to the jeering mobster.  They circled over him, sprinkling golden dust down on him. To his alarm he began floating up off the floor. "Hey, what th-- hey! Lemme go! Cut it out!" They only giggled creepily and kept circling. soon he was six feet off the ground, dangling in midair like a piñata.

Then several of them lunged for his face.

The swarm descended on him, chattering and screeching. He disappeared in a cloud of wings, screaming like a little filly. It was impossible to see what was happening clearly, except that he was struggling madly as he howled. It went on for a few seconds before Dodger finally shouted "ENOUGH! Let 'im go." Immediately the swarm dispersed. The glitter covering him faded and he dropped to the floor like a sack of wet mush.  He was covered from head to toe in bites, scratches and cuts, and there were several noticeable gaps in his bridgework. He curled up in a ball, clutching his hooves to his face. "My mouf! My mouf!" He moaned.

Five of the breezies were now holding brand new--- and slightly pink at the root-- teeth. Except for the fifth; he was holding a gold tooth and looking somewhat disgusted.  I decided to play to the crowd and held out my mailed hand; one of the breezies took the cue and landed on my outstretched finger like a pet parakeet. "I am Darth Vulcan, LORD OF THE EVERFREE," I said to the moaning mobster and his badly intimidated flunkies. "Even the most innocent looking things in my kingdom are deadly. Mock me, or my subjects, at your peril."  Next to me, Chrysalis made a whimpering noise and buried her muzzle in the crook of her arm. "Depart from my presence. Return to your Boss Hoss," I spat the name, "and tell him I shall decide at my leisure whether he will cross my domain. BEGONE!" They be-left, carrying their moaning head goon with them, a handkerchief clutched over his mouth.

"Well," I said to Dodger after they were gone. "It seems your new underlings may be useful after all." I regarded the one perched on my hand; it was their chieftain. "There was surprisingly little blood," I noted.

Wolftooth snorted. ""Ooff cuoorse-a," he said contemptuously. "Ve're-a tuut breezeees. He-a vuooldn't effen hev felt it, iff ve-a hedn't vunted heem tu."

Interesting. A flock of miniature dentists. That could definitely come in handy if any of us here need a root canal. "I was under the impression that breezies were virtually helpless," I said.

Dodger grinned. "depends on if'n they get their magic from," he said. He flipped his saddlebags open; they were filled to the brim with teeth. On top sat one of the dragon tooth daggers from our weapons lockers. The teeth were glowing dimly, like banked coals. the dagger itself was glowing from within. "Bone magic. Makes 'em a good bit stronger than the pollen-collecting lot. I figure, keep 'em in fruits and flowers tae eat, bits of gold to swap, and wotever teeth from the hunter's kills--- Them leftover dragon teeth should do 'em up for ages...."

"Or," I suggested, "from anyone here who needs a tooth pulled..."

"Coo, that too. Got ter be a few loose teef walkin' about the lair, strewth. Anyway, I'll cover 'em out o' me own pocket, set 'em up in one uv the greenhouses, and Bob's yer uncle." He shrugged, looked abashed. "Figgered it might be a good idear for me to have a few follow-uppers of me own..."

I could see his point. I had plenty loyal to me, but that didn't translate as loyal to him.  If I got taken out, he could be left hanging if he didn't have a fallback position--- like a handful of ponies loyal to him.It was a lucky balance for him; they were enough of a posse to give him a leg up, but small enough that — disturbing tooth yanking abilities notwithstanding — I wasn't going to feel too threatened by him having a private army of pony pixies. "Foresightful," I said.  "Well done. Take Eiderdown; go see to the situating of your new underlings." With a proud lift to his head, he went to where Eiderdown stood, entranced in spite of everything by the gossamer-winged creatures flitting about. Guess you can get away with anything when you're tiny and whimsical.

Dodger walked over to where Eiderdown stood. She was standing, staring openmouthed at three or four of the fluttery-winged miniponies, utterly entranced. "Oy, everywun," Dodger said. "This here's Eiderdown, me main filly." Warbled greetings came from the flock. He was struck by a quick inspiration. "You four-- Goldenrod, Jasmine, Honeysuckle, Snapdragon... you stay wiv her; you're her hoofmaidens now. Look after her, 'elp her wif things, doin' up her mane, that sort of fing. Aright?"

The four breezies addressed happily chirruped their understanding and gleefully dove into her mane, primping and braiding and arranging her locks. Eiderdown squeaked and giggled her amusement. Her laughter made Dodger's heart flutter.

He glanced down and saw she was wearing something new. Along with the cat's eye choker and the ruby necklace from before, she now had a thin beaded chain hanging about her neck, with two familiar tags. She saw where he was looking and lowered her eyes, blushing. She tapped the dog tags with her hoof.

"I'm... sorry," she said. "It took me a while to understand." She lifted the crude tin tags in her hoof. " You got these when you went, all by yourself, after somepony who'd hurt me... When you gave them to me, you weren't just bragging about what you did. You were trying to show me that... that you cared about me. That would protect me. Weren't you."

Dodger ducked his head. "Give or take."

She leaned in and planted a peck on his cheek. "Thank you."

The grin that spread across Dodger's face threatened to split his head in half. "Well. Um. Heh. Well then. Wot say we go an' get this lot settled in, then?" She smiled and nodded.

With a bounce in his step and a warm, inner glow from his cheek to the tips of his hooves, he set off down the tunnel after her.

1)We will now allow the reader a brief moment to stop giggling.