The Everfree Forest lay dark and foreboding far below, smothered under a thick cover of grey stratus clouds. Twilight suddenly felt rather grateful for her strenuous lessons with Rainbow Dash, given that her mastery of flight had enabled her to avoid a gloomy morning trudging about in the rain and mud.

“Umm, Twi, I know that the princesses’ diary is kind of important to you, but is it so important that we need to go back and get it right now? If it was fine for the last thousand years, I don’t think a couple of days are going to make a difference. We only got back yesterday,” Spike complained from his seat on her back.

“For the record, it’s a journal, not a diary,” Twilight corrected. “Secondly, I did send Celestia and Luna a report on the state of the castle and our discovery of their personal belongings. They’re going to want it back, and it would be kind of embarrassing if I had to tell them that I actually forgot to take it home, wouldn’t it?”

I still can’t believe that actually happened, she thought to herself.

“Fine, fine,” Spike grumbled. She felt him shift a little and nudge around the saddlebags strapped to her sides, before he finally settled on a more comfortable position and added, “I just wish we didn’t have to go back so early in the morning.”

“The sooner we retrieve it, the less likely I am to have to apologise to the princesses for goofing up. Besides, there were a few volumes I’d like to bring back for further study.”

Spike chuckled. “Heh, I’m sure it’s more than just a few. I’d bet you’d get half of the royal guards to help you carry all of them back to Ponyville if you weren’t so scared of ‘abusing your authority’.”

Twilight could practically hear him making inverted commas in the air with his claws, but she smiled and kept silent. It was an awfully tempting idea that wasn’t totally without merit. He knew her too well.

They wasted no time in making straight for the partial shelter of the library when Twilight landed in the courtyard. It wasn’t quite raining yet in this part of the forest, but the clouds were heavy overhead and the fog around the castle looked like it was going to close in very soon.

It was really gloomy in the abandoned halls and corridors, so she conjured a little light to illuminate the way ahead. Amidst the loud echoes of their steps, there was a faint pitter-patter of dripping water throughout the place, plus the chatter of bats. And for some reason, she thought she could hear some whispering every now and then. Whispers that didn’t come from Spike. Twilight had to admit that the castle was creepier than she remembered. Or rather, the voice of reason in her head said, the combination of unfavourable weather and the lack of an urgent quest to find answers about the Tree’s mysterious chest was allowing her imagination a little more room for exercise. Still, the logic of it failed to fully assuage her disquietude as they descended the last stairwell into the library.

“Twilight, I know it’s going to sound like I’m scared – I’m not, really – but do you feel like something’s a little wrong with this place?” Spike whispered as they went past the library’s ancient doors.

“You mean aside from the fact that some parts of it may be structurally unstable? No, not really.” Twilight waved a wing dismissively in an attempt to bolster his courage. Inwardly, however, his words conveyed to her a sense of déjà vu. Which probably was to be expected, since it was pretty much how he’d felt when they first came here. What was odd was that they’d already attributed their fears to overactive imaginations two days before, so why was he regressing?

But she filed that thought away for later when she found the door to the secret chamber firmly shut.

“Spike, did we close that when we left?” she asked as she peered at the spot where it should’ve been. Upon closer inspection, the dirt on the stone floor around the moving shelves appeared to be completely undisturbed, as if they had never been moved at all.

“I don’t know. I mean, we slept here overnight and went home in the morning. That’s all I remember,” he replied, scratching his head.

His account matched her memory, but that only served to highlight how illogical it was for the secret chamber to be closed and have no sign of ever being opened before. She dashed to the chair that served as the opening lever. It was standing in its upright position, but as she pushed it over, she saw that the wood was in significantly poorer condition than she remembered. It had cracks running down the length of its beams and planks, and there was black lichen sprouting all over its under-surfaces. The table was in similar condition.

Okay, this is getting weird.

She took a step back when she heard the sound of gears and stone grinding against one another, and noted with some satisfaction that her guess had been correct; the moving shelves pushed the grime on the floor into piles and grooves when they slid along, meaning that unless somepony had taken the trouble to smooth over the dirt after they’d gone home, this was technically the first time they were opening.

She squinted as the dark opening loomed before them. Something was moving in there…

“Twilight—incoming!” Spike said urgently before he let loose a loud belch.

Green flames erupted from his mouth, and all coherent thought flew out of Twilight’s mind when a seething, chirping mass swarmed out of the dark chamber at head-height. Twilight shrieked and fell backwards onto her rump, and she very nearly released a blast of magic in self-defence as Spike huddled up against her back.

But the seething mass turned out to be nothing more than a large family of bats, and she sighed heavily in relief after giving her pounding heart some time to calm down. “Well, that was unfortunate timing,” she muttered. “What was that all about?”

Spike, after taking a moment to regain his composure, picked up the smoking scroll from the floor and offered it to her. “Only one way to find out.”

My dear Twilight,

I am glad that you and your friends learnt something of value whilst exploring the old castle, even if you did not find exactly what you were seeking. Luna is especially pleased that much of her protective enchantments have persisted and allowed so many books to survive the ravages of time.

However, I believe that you are mistaken in the identification of that journal you found. Sometime after we abandoned Everfree, I came back specifically to retrieve it and have kept it in Canterlot ever since. I have just returned from inspecting the vault and can confirm that whatever you found most certainly could not be our journal.

Regardless, I am sure that it is something of value, since you had found it in Luna’s secret reading room. I wish you luck in discovering many more treasures of the past should you endeavour to explore the castle further.

Yours truly,

Princess Celestia

“Um, are you okay?” asked Spike.

Twilight realised that her jaw was hanging and quickly rectified it before thrusting the scroll at the puzzled dragon. Then, without further ado, she stomped straight into the secret room.

“No. Way. Somepony’s pulling our tails, I’m sure of it!” she groused. “If Discord is messing around again, I’m going to—Eek!”

She leapt backwards when her hooves sank into something squelchy. An acrid stench assaulted her nostrils at the same time, and she hastily took several steps backward as she swiftly performed a cleansing spell on her hooves. When the last drop of stinking filth was gone, she redirected the magic into her light spell to pierce the darkness in her immediate vicinity.

“What in the—”

The words died on her lips as she beheld the ruins of the secret chamber. Nearly every inch of marble and mortar was cracked or blemished in some way, and there was a sizeable hole near the top of the wall that was almost large enough for a dog to squeeze through. A gnarled root had apparently burst in through that crack, run down the wall and branched off in all directions over the floor, which was covered in a thick layer of guano. The bookshelves were sagging with rot and moisture, and the volumes even had mushrooms sprouting from their cracked spines. To top it all off, there was a tree growing out of a small fissure in the middle of the room, right where the bookstand and pedestal were supposed to be. Its dead, twisted branches were covered in spider webs and bat filth. The journal was nowhere to be seen.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Twilight murmured as she abruptly sat on her haunches. “There’s no way it could’ve gotten this bad in twenty-four hours. Think, Spike. Did we find the wrong place?”

The little dragon shook his head as he handed the scroll back to her. “I don’t think so. But if this really is the room we saw that time, I’d like to vote for a tactical retreat. Maybe the Tree of Harmony missed some of the super weeds?”

“Unlikely. These look like typical Everfree plant life.” Twilight stuffed the scroll into her saddlebags and used magic to deposit him on her back. “Come on. Let’s take a quick look around to make sure. Maybe there’s more than one secret room.”

But after a quick gallop around the library, Twilight had to admit that there were absolutely no other chairs that functioned as secret levers. None of the arrangements of shelves that matched this one had yielded to her magic when she tried to force them apart. And to make things worse, she somehow got the feeling that there were fewer intact books lying about the place than on her first visit. Sagging in defeat, she shook her head and said, “I don’t understand. We were right here two days ago!”

“Maybe we should leave. Now.” Spike was shivering as he clung on to her.

“There’s one last thing I need to check.” Twilight flexed her wings and crouched low, ready to leap. “Hang on.”

“Whoa!”

Startled by his outburst, Twilight turned round and cried, “What, what?”

A huge spider came sailing towards her face, and she was only just able to whip her head aside and out of its collision course. It bounced off the floor and skittered away soon after. When she turned back to Spike, he was busily dusting off his shoulder as if it had been hit by something particularly dirty.

“I hate those things,” he muttered. “Sorry I almost hit you with it.”

Twilight grunted in response and leaped into the air. This day just keeps getting better and better. She took a moment to gain her bearings, then made a beeline for the great hall. She remembered Rarity’s efforts to restore the tapestry. If there was anything that should have remained from their visit, that should’ve been it.

“Twilight, I don’t like this. Can we please go home?” Spike pleaded when they reached their destination.

She had no words left. She hovered close to the tapestry, going over every inch of it. But no matter how hard she looked, it bore no signs of repair. She distinctly remembered helping Rarity set it back into its proper place after sewing it up, but all evidence pointed to the contrary. It was damp, mouldy and torn in several places. She was dimly aware of Spike saying something else, but she temporarily filtered him out as she attempted to make a magical sweep of the castle. Her scan revealed many enchantments in the area, the bulk of which were meant to preserve the books in the library. There were several others strewn about, probably for the prevention of rust to ensure that the secret doors and whatnot still remained functional. But she could find nothing to account for the nonsensical change in the castle itself – the reversal of Rarity’s restoration, the missing journal, the ruined secret chamber, none of them.

A sudden shift in her balance disrupted her train of thought, and her blood froze when she saw her brother plummeting to the floor. Instinct took over; there was a bright flash, followed by a split-second of blackness before the world popped back into existence. She stretched her forelegs out and was just able to catch him before his head struck the stone floor.

“Oh no, are you okay? Spike!”

The little dragon was unconscious.

Twilight gently laid him on the ground and proceeded with a quick examination of his vitals.

Pulse is fine. Breathing is quicker than normal, but not too shallow. No fever. A little cool, actually, but still within acceptable range. No apparent injuries. She calmed down a notch when she determined that his life wasn’t in immediate danger.

“Spike?” She nudged him gently. All she got in response was a sound that could barely be interpreted as a murmur. After a moment’s thought, she risked a light slap to his cheek, but he did not even stir. Finally, she retrieved a ruby from her pack that she’d been saving for his snack later on and dangled it in front of his nostrils, but even that failed to get a reaction out of him. He was out cold.

Twilight desperately wanted to fly him back to Ponyville and get help, but she could not take the risk yet. Moving him in such a state without ascertaining the cause might very well worsen his condition. She racked her brain for an explanation, but she kept drawing blanks for the next minute or so.

And then something occurred to her. Upon closer inspection, she discovered a little bit of swelling on his shoulder, along with two little flushed dots on his skin between the scales that looked like puncture wounds.

Spider.

Spike had swatted a spider off his shoulder back in the library. She remembered Fluttershy broaching on the topic during their stay the night before, and quickly rifled through her recently acquired knowledge on the species.

Acantharachne Stellarus. Commonly known as the Star Spider. Seasonally widespread throughout the Everfree Forest. Characterised by the bright blue starburst on its abdomen and unique arrangement of six eyes. Its venom, although not lethal to creatures larger than a sparrow, is mildly hallucinogenic in large amounts and is sometimes used to that effect in zebra alchemy. Other immediate effects include heightened awareness, hysteria and vulnerability to suggestion. They typically do not bite unless somepony wanders too close to a nest during the breeding season.

Twilight stared at the unconscious dragon and frowned. His symptoms didn’t quite match up to those of the victims of star spiders. Going by the textbooks, at this point he should have been panicking rather than sleeping. As she pondered on the inconsistency, she noticed that Spike’s eyes were roving around in their sockets. Pulling up one of his eyelids revealed that they were indeed very active; he was clearly dreaming, and exposing his eye did not cause him to wake.

What could be causing this?

She began to trot in a circle protectively around Spike as she thought on the matter, oblivious to the raindrops pattering into the hall through cracks in the ceiling.

If it’s not biological or physical trauma, could it be… magical?

After all that she’d seen, arcane booby-traps suddenly did not seem outside the realm of possibility. If not set up by the Royal Sisters, then perhaps by any number of trespassers in the intervening centuries, farfetched though it seemed.

Twilight forced herself to sit still by Spike’s side, and then she closed her eyes and filtered out the sound of the rain and insects. Soon enough, she was struck by the pervasive sense of wrongness that Spike had mentioned upon their entry into the castle. There were sounds that just might have been voices if she listened hard enough, although she was sure that the ‘sound’ was actually inside her head rather than auditory. Even though she had her eyes closed, she kept envisioning the faintest outlines of winding corridors and dim halls at the edge of her thoughts. Whenever she tried to focus on them, they would simply slip away like eels.

Something clattered in the great hall, shattering her meditative state. Her hackles rose as she listened for the intruder, but there was no further sign of it. There was just the rain and dull throb of thunder in the distance.

“Who—who’s there?” she called out in a shaky voice.

She thought she heard a door creak.

Her heart rate shot up when a shadow at the corner of her eyes moved.

Spike was right. I should have listened to him.

Twilight was on the verge of tears as she curled up next to Spike on the cold floor. She had messed up. She’d been selfish in hurrying back for that journal. Now her brother was in trouble and she did not have an inkling of what to do. All that power as a princess, and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Lightning flashed in the sky, and she sat bolt upright when thunder reverberated through the castle. It was just enough to shake her out of the funk that she’d been sinking into. She shook her head vigorously and snorted.

Some princess you are. Clear your head. Think!

If no single factor could explain his condition, then what about a combination of them? There was definitely something arcane at work in the castle; it was just beneath her ability to effectively perceive it. But if she used star spider venom to heighten her awareness… It was worth a shot.

Twilight carefully lifted Spike with magic and carried him up to a sheltered alcove on the upper levels of the library, overlooking the main aisles. It was dry in there, and she made certain to clear away any webs, insects and vegetative matter that might do him harm. After placing him in the warmest spot she could find, she darted back to the ground floor of the library and plucked a star spider from its nest. She then levitated it up all the way back to the alcove.

“I’m really going to do this, aren’t I?” she said aloud.

She was out of options. If Spike’s unconsciousness was the result of magic, the consequences of moving him away from its source ranged from complete recovery to irreparable brain damage. She could not risk that. Going back for help was out of the question as well. She might’ve been strong enough to teleport home one way, but she could not be sure of repeating the feat reliably a second time. And she could not bear to leave him alone for the time it would take her to fly back. When they got out of this mess, she fully intended to master sending letters by magic the way Celestia did.

Here goes. For Spike. And Knowledge.

Twilight shook the spider to get it sufficiently agitated, then placed it on the skin of her fetlock. The nip was barely perceptible.

That might explain why he didn’t say anything about a bite.

After releasing the spider on the level below, she flew back up to the balcony, sat down and waited for the venom to take effect.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within a couple of minutes, she found that her vision was fragmenting. The alcove was still visible, but it was as if there was another room overlapping it – a shadowy, indistinct one. She blinked rapidly, but the double vision did not clear away. If anything, it got worse. The two were growing increasingly difficult to differentiate in terms of tangibility, and she belatedly thought that she probably should have gotten to a safer spot before poisoning herself.

Twilight groaned and swayed as she rose and staggered towards Spike. It was hard to tell whether walking straight would send her tumbling over the balcony or crashing nose-first into a wall.

Yet, in the midst of her discomfort, she had just enough coherent thought to realise that the experience was strangely familiar.

There’s that déjà vu again…

Echoes of voices rang in her ears, competing with the rain and thunder for her attention. She flattened her ears and covered them with her hooves, but that did not help at all. She could smell the dank stone of the library, but there was also the scent of smoke and candlewax wafting around. And the magic… now that she could fully perceive it, the magic in the air was smothering her. It was like drowning in honey and cider.

A choked cry escaped her as she crawled to Spike’s side. The sensory overload was threatening to make her breakfast surge back out, but she managed to keep it down just long enough to collapse next to her brother. And then everything became bright light...