I stopped in my tracks, glancing over my shoulder at the thinning trees. We’d left behind the towering canopy hours ago, and the brush around us was shorter and more sickly. “Alright, we’re far enough,” I said to Grit, making him come to a stop a few paces ahead of me. “You owe me a Celestia-damned explanation. How the hell did you do that? You just… transformed into a fucking pegasus!”

I’d been asking him all night, but he just kept brushing me off. Told me we needed to keep moving. That as soon as we were safe, he’d tell me what I wanted to know. But we’d been on the run all night, following the pendant, and as the first light of morning cast across the Bayou, I put my hoof down.

He closed his eyes and sighed, turning around and facing me. “Look, it’s complicated, alright? An’ I’m pretty sure savin’ your ass means I don’ owe you shit.”

I took a deep breath, slowing my heart and trying to calm down a little. “You’re right,” I said at last. “But what you did back there,” I paused, searching for the right words as my eyes darted around aimlessly. “It’s impossible! Or it should be! I mean, how would you even cast that kind of spell that just removes your horn?” I shuddered a little, as the million explanations I’d considered as we fled through the swamp came back to me in a flash. A potion? A zebra talisman? Or something stolen from the caimon?

“It wasn’ a spell. Or, not really.” He stood in front of me for a long while, motionless. Just when I started to wonder if I should say something else, he opened his eyes. “Look, what you saw, an’ what you’re askin’, only ‘bout three ‘r four other ponies know of. I need you t’ promise you won’t go tellin’ anypony ‘bout me, okay?”

My ear twitched, and I took a step towards him. “You’ve already shown me, you might as well tell me the whole story. If it’s such a big secret, then why risk coming back for me?”

“I couldn’ jus’ leave ya there t’ rot!” he snapped, startling me. “‘Course I knew what I was doin’, but I didn’t see any other way. I’ll tell you th’ rest, but you gotta promise t’ keep it a secret.”

I met his eyes, and he bored back into mine with an intensely stern expression I'd never seen on him before, and I finally realized how important this was to him. Though there really wasn’t anypony I would tell if I wanted to, I nodded. “I promise. Your secret’s safe with me, Grit.”

He nodded back to me, and took a deep breath before starting. “I’m not really a unicorn. I’m a… changeling. It’s a,” he thought for a moment, “we’re a race of pony tha’ can look like anypony.”

I flicked my tail, tilting my head in the silence that followed. Okay, “race of pony I’d never heard of before” hadn’t crossed my mind as we ran from the caimon. Still, the Wasteland was full of shit I’d never heard of. Finally, I asked the most obvious question on my mind. “So why’s that such a huge secret?”

“Well, for starters, nopony’d trust me if they knew I could jus’ flick my horn an’-” with a flash of green, an exact copy of myself was standing in front of me. “-look just like them.”

I took a few steps back from the duplicate me, eyes wide, shuddering. Seeing a copy of myself just standing there unnerved me. Thankfully, Grit changed back into himself. Or at least the form of his I was used to seeing. “So did you just…” Now it was my turn to struggle with the words. “I mean, that pony. The Grit that I’ve seen all this time. Was that you the whole time? Did you… take that appearance from somepony?”

He shook his head. “Naw. This here,” he pressed a fetlock to his chest, “th’ coat, mane, ‘n’ cutie mark I made up. Turned m’self into it a long time ago, an’ now I’m more used t’ this body than my real one.”

“So what does your real body look like?”

He chuckled for a moment. “Nah, trus’ me, I’m not sure you’d wanna see. Thing is, changelings, we…” He scuffed at the ground with a forehoof, glancing at the treeline. “Anyway, we feed off love.”

Oh he had to be messing with me now. I narrowed my eyes at him. “ ‘Love,’ huh? You give that line to all the mares?”

His eyes went wide. “Not that kind of love! Things like,” he scuffed a hoof at the muddy ground, wrinkling his muzzle. “Y’know how back at Four Shoes everypony’s nice and friendly t’ me, an’ appreciates the work I do? S’what I’ve been eatin’ for years now, an’ it works out great. I keep th’ town safe, an’ nopony has t’ know I’m a big ol’ bug pony.”

Did he say bug pony? Questions for later. “So if you eat ‘love,’ do you not need real food?”

“Not really. I try t’ eat jus’ enough so ponies don’t get ‘spicious, but I don’t get much outta eatin’ what you do.”

I scuffed a hoof at the ground. “So if that’s the case, what about Stable 15? They all seemed to like you there.” Wait a second… “Or are all of them these… changeling things, too?”

“No, no, no. Jus’ me. Far as I know, I’m th’ only livin’ changeling. Mom was one, and did th’ same as me, made up her own pony form t’ live in th’ Stable. ‘Parently a changelin’ got in when th’ doors were closin’, an’ there’s always been at least one changelin’ in th’ Stable at any time. Only really Pillar, Studio, and my dad know. Oh, an’ Dr. Patch, but it’d be hard t’ keep that one from him anyway.”

“But why not stay there?”

Grit winced at that, and turned away for a moment. “It’s,” he stopped, turning back to me. “Look, it wasn’t an easy choice, an’ it was a long time ago. I couldn’t live there anymore.” Before I could think of more questions, he asked me one in return. “So… are we good? I mean, y’seem t’ be takin’ all this in stride.”

To be honest, I was more curious about what he was and what he could do than anything else. “Well, you’re still Grit, right? And you’ll still help me finish this?”

He nodded. “ ‘Course.”

“Then we’re good. Just don’t turn into me again, okay?”

“Okay, okay, y’have my word.” He chuckled and raised a foreleg to tap against the pendant around his neck. The crude shard of metal was hovering in the air, pointing off to his left. “We should keep movin’. Dunno how much farther we’ve got t’ go.” Ending the conversation there, he turned at started walking the direction the necklace pointed

Trotting up after him until I was walking beside him again, I glanced up at the sky as thunder rolled in the dark grey clouds. “Can you fly us there?”

“Nahhh. Wish I could, though.” He glanced over, a familiar grin on his face. “Ain’t a very strong flyer. Not a lotta room t’ practice in a Stable. Took everythin’ I had just t’ get you outta th’ caimon village.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t even considered that. Come to think of it, there really wasn’t a lot I had considered when it came to Grit. He was just… there to help me this whole time, and now he had shown me his most closely-guarded secret. “Thank you. For saving me, I mean.”

His smile back lifted some of my exhaustion, and as we walked in more comfortable silence than before, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to what we were walking towards. To who we were walking towards.

And what I would have to do to him.

* * * * * * *

“Is it broken?”

“Nah, it still works. Watch.” Grit tapped at the pendant with a hoof. Instead of swinging freely, the piece of metal budged once, then immediately went back to pointing straight at the ground. “It’s jus’ tellin’ us Copper is… down.”

I stared at the patch of dirt below our hooves. It looked smooth and untouched, same as any other piece of the Bayou we’d walked over this whole time. Rain started to sprinkle down on our heads in a light, infrequent shower, and my gut clenched in dread. “Could he be dead already?”

“Could be, I guess, but how would he get…” Grit’s voice trailed off as he looked up from the dirt, head panning around the landscape. “Hang on a tick. What if he is un’erground?” I stared at him with a blank expression for a moment before my eyes went wide, realizing what he was saying. If he wasn’t dead and the necklace was still working, Copper must be in some underground facility. “ ‘xactly! Help me find some kinda door or somethin’.”

Grit trotted off towards a cluster of brush, and I walked the way we’d come, searching for any kind of entrance or building we missed that could lead underground, but the only structure was a small, single-room building smaller than even my house. Curiously, it stood apart from most of the underbrush, surrounded by cracked pavement.

I drifted towards it, opening up my saddlebags and pulling out a carrot to munch on for breakfast, my second-to-last one. After this, it’d be back to dried, preserved foods, or meat hunted down by somepony who could actually fight. I’d have to savor that last carrot.

Munching slowly, I walked around in circles and looping paths to try and find something that would indicate where we needed to go. As I trotted down a small slope, into a shallow ravine, my hoof hit something smooth with a small thunk. Stopping in my tracks, I looked at the unnaturally smooth surface I’d stepped on, but it was mostly covered up by dirt and mud. Out of idle curiosity, I brushed the dirt and mud away from the surface, and as I cleared it, I realized it was part of an old sign. I kept sweeping dirt away with my hooves until I could make out some of the words.

"-LCOME TO STABLE 36!"

* * * * * * *

It hadn’t taken us long to find the entrance to the Stable itself, but by the time we did, the light drizzle had bloomed into a full-fledged storm. Luckily the short tunnel leading down to the Stable door shielded us from the rain. The massive, cog-shaped door was open, and inside I could see lights flickering. What little I could make out of the room past the entrance was in complete disrepair. Moss filled the room, and rust crawled its way up the walls.

Glancing over at Grit, I saw that the pendant pointed straight in, and down. He shared a look with me, drawing one of his pistols. “Looks like we’re headin’ in,” he said under his breath. “Y’ever been in an abandoned Stable?”

I looked back to the entrance, shaking my head slowly. “No. You?”

“Nope, but I’ve heard stories. An’ this place gives me th’ creeps. Best be ready for anythin’.”

In response, my horn lit and I drew Chainlink’s revolver out of its holster as the two of us crossed the threshold.

Inside, the stench of mildew and rusted metal filled my nostrils, making me gag. I snorted and flicked my tail at the air, forcing myself to think about the hallway ahead of us. Wrecked computer terminals and monitors lined each side of the entranceway, which lead to an elevator shaft. Though the power was on, judging by the flickering lights overhead, taking the elevator was not an option. A broken cable, frayed and dangling from the ceiling, was testament to that. I gingerly peered over the edge, listening for any signs of life. “Is there another way down?”

“Dunno. Each Stable’s ‘posed to be different from each other.” He looked around, squinting in the poor lighting. “But there’s gotta be some kinda… here we go!” Crossing the room, he pushed open a door that used to be painted red, revealing a staircase. “That’ll do us.”

The stairwell was surprisingly sturdy, and in much better condition than what I’d seen of the Stable so far. Only a few of the lights on the wall weren’t working, and we descended without a word, trying to make as little noise on the metal steps as possible.

When we finally reached the bottom, Grit put a hoof against my chest, and I saw him turning his head to stare at the door in front of us. Before I could ask what he was doing, he gave me an urgent whisper, “PipBuck says there’s hostiles out there.”

My eyes went wide and I sucked in a quick breath. “What kind?”

“Dunno.” He shook his head. “Damn thing doesn’t give me much info. Jus’ be on your guard.”

I nodded, and together we pushed the door open.

It screeched with a piercing whine of metal on metal, and immediately we heard the rasping snarls and clattering hoofsteps. A pair of ghouls rounded a corner. barreling straight at us. I squeezed the trigger on the pistol, firing off three shots at them before I could even take aim. More gunshots echoed. Grit’s pistol flared next to me, and the two ghouls dropped to the floor.

We stood in the empty hallway for what felt like an hour before we were convinced no more were coming. I slowly walked over to the ghouls, and immediately noticed the faded blue Stable barding. “Grit, look.”

He’d already seen it, though, and was staring intently at the ragged, gaunt ponies. After a moment, he gave a furious shake of his head. “Place is givin’ me th’ creeps. C’mon, let’s get movin’.”

We followed the hallway until it opened up into spacious, circular room, with a sign hanging from the ceiling, still intact. “WELCOME TO STABLE 36!” it announced, and then had three arrows below. Pointing down and to the left was an arrow labelled with a horseshoe. In the middle was an arrow pointing straight down, marked with a unicorn’s horn, and the third pointed down and to the right, next to a symbol of a wing. Three doors stood near where the arrows pointed, marked with the same symbols. I opened my mouth to ask Grit why this was so different to Stable 15, when the walls came alive with a crackle of static.

“Hello? Are… are you two for real…?”

It came from speakers on the walls, distorted by the old electronics. The voice was quiet, and sounded weak, and I froze up.

“Holy shit… I can’t believe it… I can’t believe it! You are real, aren’t you?!”

Grit took a hesitant step forward, looking around the room. “Yea. ‘Least I think we are. Who’re-”

“I-I’m sorry, there aren’t any microphones or anything. I’m using the Stable’s PA system and cameras, but I can’t hear you.” Grit closed his mouth and gave an exaggerated nod. “Great. Listen, I don’t know what brought you in here, but please, you gotta help me out, I’m beggin’ you. I’ve been trapped in the Overmare’s office for so long… must be days now, I think?” He paused, as more static filtered through, which I took a moment to realize was him chuckling. “Please, help me get out? I… I’ve got some caps here I can give you!”

I turned from the wall, towards Grit. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Dunno. But I’d like t’ help him out if we can. Seems like th’ poor colt’s at the end o’ his rope.”

I flicked my tail in the air. “We don’t have time to rescue any random pony we come across.” Malice’s deadline was almost up.

He tilted his head to one side. “Maybe, maybe not. But th’ necklace was pointin’ down t’ this Stable.” I glanced at it, and sure enough it wasn’t pointing down anymore, instead angling to point towards the door marked with a unicorn’s horn. “Even if it ain’t him, seems like we gotta dig ‘round in here t’ find him, and an extra pair o’ hooves’d help.”

“But what if it is him? You… you know what,” my throat was suddenly dry, despite the humid air, and my voice dropped to a whisper. “You know what Malice wanted.”

Grimacing, Grit looked away, then down at the necklace that was jittering and tugging at his neck. “Damn thing’s startin’ t’ get on my nerves,” he grumbled, lifting it off with telekinesis and stowing it in his bags.

“Grit.” I pressed. I needed his help. I couldn’t do this alone.

“I know, I know! But we gotta jus’ keep goin’. It don’t sit right with me, but we’ve come this far. Th’ wasteland forces shitty choices on us all th’ time, but s’long as Malice doesn’t bother us anymore, s’worth it.”

Briefly I opened my mouth again, instinct pressing me to argue further, wanting him to argue further, but I stopped myself. “Fine, we’ll help him out.”

Turning back to face the walls, I looked around the room and gave an exaggerated nod of my head. “You… you’ll help me?” the voice came back. I nodded again. “Oh thank Celestia! Thank you Luna! Thank YOU two!! I’m trapped in the Overmare’s office for the Unicorn section. It shouldn’t be far past the entrance, just past the security gate, into the atrium, and up the stairs.” After a brief pause, the speakers came alive again. “Oh fuck, I totally forgot my name. My name’s Copper. And I’ll be damn pleased to meet you two!”

Grit and I glanced at each other as a lump formed in my throat. He led the way as we started to walk towards the Unicorn door, our weapons drawn.

Just beyond the door, we spotted the security checkpoint Copper had mentioned. The room was at least as big as the atrium in Stable 15, with a massive door on one end, and a broken terminal on a desk. Skeletons littered the floor, and I stepped gingerly around them to examine the door itself. Copper's voice crackled from a small speaker next to the door, “S-sorry, I didn’t check the cameras here. I guess the door closed when the Overmare’s office locked.”

I glanced up at the speakers, then turned to Grit. “Think you can get it open?”

With a short grunt, he shook his head. “Maybe if that terminal was workin’, but now? Don’t think so.”

“W-wait a second!” The speaker sprang to life again. “I think I can actually open that door from here! Just… one minute…” I heard gears start to clank and groan, and I stepped back from the doorway. “Got it! Wait, what’s-”

Two panels slid open on the floor. My eyes went wide. Grit screamed, “RUN!”

We bolted down the hallway again as the turrets began to shoot. Red flashing lights strobed past us and searing fire struck my backside and neck. I gasped and stumbled but kept on my hooves as we ran for the door, sealing it behind us again.

With my heart still racing, I collapsed onto my haunches, then immediately jumped up as the burns stabbed pain into me. Every motion of my hind legs and neck was met with fresh throbs. Grit had fared a little better, but it looked like he’d been hit, too. “Oh Celestia, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Copper sounded terrified from his mistake. “Are… are you okay?” After a moment, we both nodded. “Okay. I can’t believe this… it’s locked me out of the system.” There was a long pause, long enough for Grit and I to pick ourselves back to our hooves. Had Copper locked himself out of the PA system too? I turned to examine the laser burns, each twist and pull of my hide making them sting like sandpaper grinding into me. Eventually, the speakers crackled to life again, “The… the only other way in is… through the Pegasus section.”

I stomped a hoof down on the metal floor, grinding my teeth. From the way Copper had said it, that sounded like a much longer trip than we’d planned. But still, it was the only way. We had to get to him. I had no other choice. I started to walk towards the door marked with a wing, and I heard Grit start to follow.

Copper’s voice came back over the PA. “W- wait, you’re… you two a-are still coming?” His voice was stuttering, interrupted by a hiccup.

Or maybe a sob.

Without stopping or looking away from the door to the pegasus section, I nodded my head.

“Oh sweet G-Goddesses, thank you! I d-don’t even know what to say, th-thank you! I’ll try to guide you along! You’ll need to get down to the Exchange, some kinda system they had for trading stuff between the different sections. H-hang on, I’ll look for the best route on the map!” The PA was silent for a while, before Copper’s voice returned. “Okay, just head into the Pegasus section and go down. The exchange is near the cafeteria. Thank you!”

I winced at his enthusiasm and relief, and Grit’s voice got my attention before I could drift into my memories. “Keep your head on a swivel. Still seein’ red bars on th’ PipBuck.”

I nodded, my throat feeling suddenly dry. Lighting my horn, I pulled my sword out of its sheath, and together we walked into the Pegasus section of Stable 36.

* * * * * * *

The security checkpoint for Pegasi was practically nonexistent. The door was wide open, and there were no signs of any turrets or even a terminal. In fact, the only indication that it was even guarded was a pair of skeletons crumpled in a corner, draped in tatters of armored barding.

Grit and I crept through the corridor of the Stable, silently as we could, though when the floor levelled off, we found ourselves stepping through a puddle of water covering the entire floor. It felt like hours before we got to the atrium. Both of us stopped to stare up at the towering ceiling, but only for a moment before the things inside caught our attention. The room was taller than anything I’d seen before, and inside were at least 7 or more ghouls, some of them drifting around the room on bony, near-featherless wings, others stumbling around on the floor. They all seemed to not even be aware of their surroundings, stumbling randomly and even smacking into walls repeatedly. The grounded ghouls were bloated and covered in fungus. Their occasional groan sounded like a drowning gurgle, and each step of their hooves made a wet slopping sound, like a wet sponge. It was all I could do to stop myself from gagging at the reek of mildew and waterlogged hide.

I saw Grit’s pistol hover up next to him, taking aim, and my eyes went wide. I nudged him with my side, getting his attention, and shaking my head fervently. They hadn’t noticed us yet, and if we could keep it that way all the better. Pressing myself low to the floor, I led the way as we crept out, hugging close to the wall. Across the atrium, I could see a door marked “STAIRS.” As much as I wanted to just keep my focus on the sign, ignoring the ghouls, I couldn’t afford to. I kept glancing out into the room, making sure we weren’t seen. My muzzle was clenched shut, forcing myself to breath as slowly and quietly as possible, even though my heart beat faster the closer we got to the door and every instinct in me screamed to run, run, RUN!

Just as we were closing on our goal, one of the bloated, waterlogged ghouls stumbled towards us. I froze. It was staring right at us. I stared back, eyes locked. My sword floated in front of me. My eyes darted to the left. Just a few more feet. Just a little bit farther. Was it blind? I took a cautious hoofstep, careful not to make a splash. No reaction from the ghoul. It stood in place, head lolling, and finally it began to move away from us. I took another step, not looking away. Too hard. My hoof hit the water too hard, made too much noise. Its ear flicked at the air, and it turned back to us, gurgling. Water spilled out of its gaping maw. I glanced back at Grit, seeing his pistol raised again. I sucked in a quick breath and shot my sword forward.

The blade rammed straight through the ghoul’s open mouth, piercing its rotten brain. I felt the strain on my magic as its body went limp around the sword. Gritting my teeth, I lowered the sword, and by extension the body, to the floor before pulling it free.

We crossed the last few feet to the exit, and none of the other ghouls seemed to notice.

Behind us, I heard the static of the PA coming alive, and I whipped my head around, ready to fend off the ghouls and run, but they had all charged the opposite direction, the pegasus ghouls smacking their heads against the wall while the grounded ones shuffled in the same direction. The speaker was on the far side, where Grit and I had come from. “H-hey, looks like I have access to the PA system in this section too! Guess Daisy really was as paranoid as her diary makes her sound. Oh, er, Daisy was the unicorn Overmare. I’ve… kinda had a lot of time to kill down here.” Copper gave a nervous laugh, while I just bit my lip. “That was a nice move with the sword, by the way! And don’t worry, I’ll make sure not to use any speakers near you. Don’t wanna draw attention, y’know.” I nodded slowly, calming myself down, wiping my sword clean of ghoul guts and trying to stop the pounding in my chest. “I-I’ll track your progress from the cameras when I have them, and try to help you out. Which reminds me, you need to go down the stairs on your left, but… according to the plans here, they only go down one flight. The Exchange is on the 5th level down.”

I turned to the door Copper had mentioned, but it was shut. Hesitantly, I pressed the button to open it, and it slid into the ceiling with a hiss-clank. Grit and I stepped through before closing it behind us.

* * * * * * *

“So… there might be a problem in the next room.” Copper’s voice crackled on the PA again, echoing through the halls. I could hear more waterlogged ghouls hissing and smashing their heads against the walls in nearby rooms. All around us, water was seeping in, dripping through cracks in the ceiling, trickling down the walls, pooling in the living quarters. Where the hell did all this water come from? Lights flickered and showed some rooms partially flooded around us. We stopped to listen to him, breathing the thick, stagnant air. “I… I can’t quite see what’s going on, one of the ghouls musta broken the camera. It’s pointed at the floor, and it looks like there’s a lotta water there. You just have to cross to the Cafeteria entrance. Be careful, ok?”

I ground my teeth against each other, wishing Copper would talk less. I didn’t want to think about him.

“How ya holdin’ up?” Grit’s voice snapped me from my train of thought again, and I gave a quiet snort, glaring at him. The burns on the back of my legs and neck were stinging and aching with every step, I was tired, hungry, wanted to puke up the meager meal we’d had this morning, and every breath felt like I was drinking swamp water. How the fuck did he think I was holding up?

“I’m fine,” I answered, looking away. He grunted in response, and I wondered if he could tell when I was lying with some… changeling-sense of his. I muttered under my breath, “I just want this all to be fucking over.”

“Almost is, though. That’s a plus. Jus’ gotta get through th’ Stable an’ then we can go home.”

I flicked my tail. “You forgot the part in the middle where-” I swallowed, my throat dry all of a sudden. “Nevermind. Let’s just get through the Stable.”

We left the last flight of stairs and rounded a corner to find the hallway just… stopped.

Or, more accurately, it opened up into a room that put the pegasi atrium to shame. It must have been as tall as the Stable was deep, and the room below us dropped away in a sheer wall, leading down to a murky pool of filthy liquid. The sides of the room were coated in moss, with water running down and feeding the pool below. I couldn’t tell exactly how deep it was, but there were three or four bloated ghouls idly floating on the surface. All throughout the room were flying pegasi ghouls, lazily drifting in midair.

About 30 feet below us, and on the opposite side of the room, I saw the door labelled “Cafeteria.” Below even that was the waterline. My head spun as I looked down, and I had to snap back to looking at Grit before I got too dizzy. This was nothing like the treehouses of Sugarland, it was just… a sheer drop down. “How the hell do we get across?” I muttered, under my breath. A pegasus ghoul turned its head toward us. It hovered in place. I froze, not even daring to breath.

After several agonizing seconds, it looked away and moved on, drifting towards a far wall before smacking its head against it. They must have been blind, too, like the bloated, moss-covered ones.

“Well, I got one idea,” Grit answered. He swallowed and motioned for me to step back before he closed the door in front of us. “Gimme a sec.” He quickly pulled off his barding and closed his eyes. After a moment, a wave of green energy washed over him, briefly lighting up the hallway. In the place of the sandy-coated buck I was familiar with, stood the pegasus who’d flown me out of the caimon’s cell.

He stuffed the barding into his bags, and turned back to me. “Alright, ready t’ do this?”

I nodded. It was a room designed for flying, in a section of a Stable designed for pegasi. He didn’t have to explain his plan.

I opened the door again, and the noise immediately drew the attention of a trio of nearby ghouls. They drifted close, hissing and snorting at the air. I pulled my sword out and held it steady, aimed at the blind pegasus ghouls. Took a deep breath. Waited. They drifted closer. Closer. Their pace was slow, but unlike last time they didn’t seem to be losing interest. I couldn’t get a shot at their heads.

I went for the next best thing.

With a sharp breath, I swung my sword at one of the ghouls’ wings. It sliced right through the rotten appendage, and the pegasus ghoul snarled as it dropped to the water below.

The room changed almost instantly. Pegasi ghouls started diving towards the water, toward the closest sound. The PA came alive again, and Copper started yelling frantically. Some of the ghouls started smashing their heads against the speaker.

Grit wasted no time, grabbing onto me and taking to the air. He flew down, towards the Cafeteria entrance. I felt my stomach lurch from the drop, but we were in the clear. All we had to do was la-

I was falling.

Something had hit Grit, sent us both tumbling down. I saw him spin, tumble, kick a pegasus ghoul off him. Right himself. I looked up to see him hovering, eyes wide in horror.

Then I hit the water. My back erupted in pain, and I paddled furiously to stay afloat. My bags. My fucking saddlebags! I lit my horn in a panic, trying to float them off of me, trying to make it easier to swim.

Teeth sank into my back leg, then my front. I screamed. I stabbed my sword down at where I’d been bit, and screamed again as the sword hit my own fucking leg. A ghoul, one of the waterlogged ones, drifted away from me as we both trailed blood. Then I was lifted away, grabbed by my haunches as Grit hauled me away, out of the reach of the snapping, gurgling monstrosities in the water.

He had one of his pistols in his mouth and he fired. Twice, three times, four. We crashed to the metal floor, and I had just enough time to see the swarm of ghouls charging towards us before the door slammed shut.

We both lay on the floor, gasping for breath, before another wave of green magic got my attention. Grit had turned back into his normal form, and was digging into his saddlebags for something. I turned back to look at my legs. A fresh set of bite marks and the stab wound were trailing rivers of blood from my left hind leg, and more ran from the bite in my right foreleg. They throbbed and stung, and had reopened the cuts from the rats in the tunnel.

Grit had done better, but not much. The back of his neck and his haunch were slashed by a series of cuts. Nothing too deep at least, but as I watched, I saw him dig out a roll of bandages from his bags. I tried to get to my hooves, but slipped and fell flat on my side. “Easy, easy,” he said, unrolling some of the bandage to wrap around my legs, before tending to his own. They were quickly stained red with blood, but none of it seeped down my leg anymore.

“Thanks,” I muttered, examining the bandages. I gingerly got to my hooves again, testing my legs. I could still walk, but putting too much weight on them sent jagged lances of pain through me. Shaking some of the water off of my coat, we pressed on without a word between us.

We opened the next door, and almost immediately the PA system came alive again. “You made it! Oh sweet Celestia, you made it through! Goddesses above I was so fucking worried, I thought I saw one of you hit the water! I don’t even care how you did it, I could just kiss you both!” My lips curled in a scowl as we stopped and listened. “Look, you don’t have far to go. Just go through the cafeteria, and the Exchange will be just down the next set of stairs. I’ll try to see if there’s any healing supplies left in the Unicorn medical office. Just keep at it!”

Why did the pony I was sent to enslave have to be so helpful? It would have been easier if he was cursing us out the whole way. No, that wouldn’t be better. It’d be better if he’d been silent. Or if he’d been dead. If he were dead, I wouldn’t have to enslave him. I wouldn’t have to drag him in chains back to the leader of a raider gang. To a fate worse than death. To the fate that haunted my nightmares for years. Why the hell did he have to be helping us? Why did I have to hear his voice the whole way through this Goddess-damned Stable?! “Why does he have to be so Luna-damned nice to us?!”

I blinked, panting as I realized I’d shouted that last part out loud. Grit just stared at me, still catching his own breath after the exerting flight. I shivered and shook my legs again to try and dry them off a bit, and was rewarded with a fresh slice of pain. Hissing under my breath, we kept walking towards the cafeteria.

* * * * * * *

Thankfully, the cafeteria and the stairs that followed were empty. The Exchange that Copper had kept talking about was a room lined with shelves and boxes, with two tunnels on the far wall. They were barely big enough for ponies to walk through, heads lowered, and above the entrances were the same signs we’d seen in the central atrium: one with a horseshoe, and the other with a horn. Crawling through the tunnel, we splashed through a few shallow puddles of water, pressing on as quickly as we could. Eventually, the tunnel turned up, and started to smell a little less of mildew. In the half-crouch, my injured legs screamed in pain with every step, making me wince and grind my teeth together.

Leading the way, Grit had one of his pistols out and floating in front of him, and stopped at the exit before tumbling through. I followed shortly after, sucking down gulps of the slightly fresher air.

“You made it!” Copper’s voice was a little clearer coming from the speakers in this side of the Stable. “Okay, you just gotta get up to the Overmare’s office now. Follow the signs to the atrium. Almost there, you guys, keep it up!”

My lip flickered in a snarl and my tail snapped at the air. Grit shot a glance over at me, but thankfully said nothing. I drew my sword and we crept out from the room the Exchange had dumped us in.

Following the signs to reach the staircase up, I muttered under my breath, “Any sign of ghouls?”

He nodded. “Still seein’ a lotta red bars. Could be upstairs or downstairs though. Hard t’ te-”

A rapping click-click-click of hooves on metal stopped him mid-sentence. It was coming from one of the connecting hallways. We both froze, then aimed our weapons down the hall. I saw the blueish glow before it rounded the hallway; it was another ghoul, but nothing like what we’d seen before. This one was a unicorn, for starters, and its horn was glowing a soft blue. No… not glowing. Leaking. The normally-steady glow of magic around a unicorn’s horn was pulsing with sick irregularity, and a stream of glowing blue was trickling down its forehead, dripping onto the floor, and vanishing as the light faded. Its eyes were trailing the same light as it hissed and sniffed at the air.

With a snarl, it broke into a gallop. Charging right at us! Grit fired his pistol twice, but it kept charging. I took a deep breath, ready to swing my sword. Its horn flared bright. Before I knew it, I was on the floor, coughing and gasping. My vision swam, my head ached. What had-

It jumped on me, landing on my hooves, snapping its teeth at my muzzle. I cried out, my eyes darting around. My sword! Where the fuck was my sword?!

Another shot. Then another, and a third, and the ghoul went limp on top of me. My breathing hadn’t slowed down yet, and I pushed it off with a grunt of effort.

Getting to my hooves and taking a deep breath, I looked down at the ghoul, but all traces of the strange, blue glow were gone. “What,” I swallowed, my mouth dry, “what the fuck was that? Did it use magic?”

"Dunno," Grit answered, still catching his breath as he reloaded his pistol. “Looked like it. Never seen anythin’ like it.” He holstered the pistol and drew out his other one, staring at the hallway the ghoul came from. “Don’t think it was blind like th’ others either. Best use your gun, don’t think they’ll letcha get close enough t’ use a sword.”

I blinked, processing that as I collected my sword from the ground. That made sense. However the ghoul had done what it did, it hadn’t tried until galloping down the hall at us. I sheathed my sword and pulled out the revolver, following Grit up the stairs.

* * * * * * *

“I told you, I’m fine,” I said through clenched teeth

“An’ I told you, th’ fuck you are.” Grit and I stood at a crossroads, with a sign pointing one way for “MEDICAL” and the opposite way for “ATRIUM,” “SECURITY,” and “OVERMARE.” He was insisting that we detour to medical to deal with my injured legs. “Even if you weren’t hurt, we’ll need th’ supplies while we can get ‘em, but the smell o’ blood might draw more o’ those things to us. An’ besides, that leg’ll get infected if we jus’ leave it be, an’ then you’ll have t’ get it cut off.”

Glancing back at my hind leg, I winced at the sight of the bandage stained with dirty water and blood. I wasn’t sure if Grit was right about infection and needing to cut it off, but I wasn’t willing to take the chance anymore. “Fine. But let’s be quick.”

“ ‘Course. I don’t wanna be down here any more’n you do.”

Grit walked on ahead of me, pistol hovering in front of him as we slowly made our way towards Medical. My injured legs made it hard to keep up anything except a slow walk, so I was grateful that he took it slow. Just as we had started our walk, the PA came alive again. “I g-guess you guys are headed for medical?” I looked around for a camera, but couldn’t find one, settling instead to just nod at a random spot on the wall. “Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for you. One second… damn. Camera feed’s dead inside Medical. Sorry about that.” His voice trailed off, and we kept walking.

After a few minutes of moving down the only hallway available to us, we came upon the double-door marked with the familiar Ministry of Peace butterflies. “Can you tell if there are any ghouls inside?” I whispered.

He just shook his head, staring at the sealed door. “Hope not. But th’ EFS is jus’ useless in here.” Moving towards the button, he glanced back at me. “Be ready for anythin’.”

“Right.” I pulled out the revolver, holding it in front of me. The door parted with a grinding squeal that made me jump back from the noise. I panned the gun left and right, scanning the wreckage of the medical room for any signs of an attacker.

Nothing.

Letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I gingerly stepped into the medical office alongside Grit, looking at the room in closer detail.

It was an absolute wreck, filled with broken skeletons and splatters of centuries-dried blood. Examining tables were flipped over, cabinets smashed, lights flickering, and delicate equipment in ruins. I had to watch every step carefully to not step on any of the broken glass littered around the place. In one corner, a smashed camera dangled from a sparking wire.

“Hope there’s still somethin’ left in here,” Grit said, poking at a tipped-over storage locker.

I grunted my agreement, wincing as I put weight on my bitten foreleg and started combing the room.

With about half an hour of searching behind us, we had scraped together a measly collection of supplies. Thank Celestia there were at least some bandages, painkillers, and rubbing alcohol, but no healing potions. We’d found the box where they were kept, dented and on the floor, filled with the shards of at least a dozen potions. I shook my head. Didn’t matter. We had enough to make it through, and that’s all we needed. I climbed up on one of the few intact examination tables, as Grit stood next to me with the alcohol and bandages. “Alrigh’, this is gonna sting. A lot.”

“Right. Just get it over with quick.” I turned away from my wounded hind leg, staring at a random spot on the wall.

Grit nodded, and poured some of the liquid onto a clean bandage, pressing it tight against the bite. I clenched my teeth hard, sucking in air between them. Celestia above, it felt like he was lighting my leg on fire! The burning sensation faded to a chilled ache as he wrapped up the bite, and repeated the process with my self-inflicted stab wound, and the bite mark on my foreleg. By the time he was done, I needed those fucking painkillers. Every movement and step of my legs sent new fire up my hide, and I immediately grabbed the bottle with my magic, popping a chalky, sour-tasting pill down my throat. “Alright, your turn.”

“What? Nah, I’m fine,” Grit waved a hoof in the air, taking a step back.

“The hell you are, you’ve got a nasty gash on your backside, not to mention that burn on the back of your neck,” I countered.

“S’not that bad.” He turned and winced, looking at the rough scrape that went down his flank.

“Shut up and get on the table,” I stomped my good foreleg on the floor, and Grit flicked an ear at the air before nodding and climbing up, lying on his side.

I picked up the bottle of alcohol and swished it around. Still almost full. I applied some to another bandage and pressed it down on Grit’s open wound. He squeezed his eyes shut and winced, but I ignored him, wrapping the bandage around him to secure it, my mind starting to wander. Would being injured like this stop him from transforming? Or would he transform, but keep his injury in the same spot? I guessed he’d gotten hurt when I did, getting battered by the flying ghouls. And he did transform with the burn marks, so I guess that answered that.

Come to think of it, he seemed to be able to transform into that pegasus body pretty easily. Had he practiced that? He made it seem like he wasn’t a very good flyer, and he said he was more used to this… ‘Grit’ body than his real form, but was that really true? Had he ever turned into other ponies in Four Shoes?

“Hey, Equestria t’ Alloy. Come in Alloy. Wake up!” I blinked, shaking my head briefly and realizing I’d been holding the bandage still as my mind drifted. “Y’alrigh’ there? I know those pills’re pretty good, but we still got a job t’ do.” He grinned, and I just nodded back at him, snipping the bandage and securing it.

I stowed the medical supplies in my saddlebags, and we picked our way back through the medical office, and then out to where we’d come from, following the signs for the Overmare’s office.

* * * * * * *

Finally, after so fucking long, we stood in front of the Overmare’s office. A camera above the doorway made a strained buzzing noise as it rotated to track us. “Holy shit you two made it!” A small, tinny speaker on the wall next to the door projected Copper’s voice this time, so much different from the way the PA system echoed and gave power to his voice. “Okay, the override for the door should be in the Security office, right behind you. Just hit the button and we can all get out together. You should be able to shut down the turrets that I uh… accidentally turned on before. The ones at the Unicorn checkpoint?” Grit nodded at the camera. “Great! Okay, we’re almost home free. There’re a couple ghouls in the Security office, though, watch out.”

“Nice of him to warn us this time…” I growled.

Grit just cocked his head and flicked one ear, aiming both his pistols at the door to the Security office. “Two of ‘em, I think. Alright Alloy, I’ll give a countdown, an’ on ‘three’ open th’ door. I’ll go inta SATS an’ take em out.”

I nodded and moved aside, standing by the control for the door.

With a glance at me, he began to count. “One…” His eyes narrowed. “Two…” I turned to stare at the doorway, my own gun drawn. “Three!” I hit the button.

The door slid open. Half a dozen shots split the air, and a ghoul dropped dead, falling across the threshold. Another still stood, pink light spilling from its horn and eyes. It snarled and its horn flared, and a flash of light rushed past me, hitting Grit and flinging him against the Overmare’s door behind him. The throaty hiss brought me back into focus. The ghoul jumped at Grit. I pulled the trigger, and again.

The ghoul’s body hit the floor just short of where Grit lay crumpled in the hall. I rushed over to him, and was relieved to see he was still alive. “Are you okay?”

With a grunt and a shake of his head, he slowly got to his hooves. “Well that coulda gone better.” Offering a wry smile, he holstered one of his pistols. “Good shot, Alloy. Thanks.”

I just nodded. I was amazed I even hit it, let alone killed it. “Let’s just get the lockdown lifted and get the hell out of here.”

“Couldn’ agree more.”

I kept my pistol out, reloading it before walking into the dimly-lit room. Banks of screens filled the far wall, showing camera feeds from around the Stable. Grit immediately trotted over to the desk, sitting down at the computer while I started opening drawers and cabinets. Most of them were empty, even the lockers in the adjacent room, but the last locker had a small toolbox and a full set of armored barding! I pulled it out and stowed them both in my saddlebags for later, folding the barding up neatly as Grit called for me. “Hey, come take a lookit this.”

I walked back into the main office and saw a video playing on the computer terminal. “What is it? Did you find the lockdown?”

He nodded, still staring at the screen. “Yea, but take a look. There was some old archive. It’s th’ camera feed from 200 years ago.” Tilting my head, I walked closer to get a look at the screen.

The footage was from the front door of the Stable, a grainy image of ponies galloping past the door. Lights were spinning and I could see the arm swinging down to roll the door into place. Even as it started to move, ponies were still galloping through. Then, a wall of water burst through the open door, hit the camera, and the video ended, looping back to the beginning.

I watched it loop again, before shaking my head and speaking up. “C’mon. Let’s just get out of here.”

Grit just took a short breath, closing the video down. “Yea. Yea, alrigh’.” He tapped a few more keys and I heard the door across the hall, the Overmare’s office, rachet and unlock.

A scrawny, teal-coated earth pony immediately burst from the open door, and just ran in circles until leaping over the desk to tackle me to the ground. “Holy shit! Holy shit holy shit, holy shit!! You did it! Thank you thank you thank yo-”

An ear-splitting klaxon cut him off. The lights in the stable turned red and alarms started blaring. The alarms paused for an atonal voice to announce, “Unauthorized Access in Central Security. Please enter valid access code.” The alarms resumed as the three of us stared at the speakers.

“MOVE!” Grit bellowed. The three of us galloped as fast as we could for the exit. A ghoul jumped out of a nearby room, tackling Copper to the floor. Grit’s pistol flared three times, even the gun’s blast was muffled by the alarms. The ghoul slumped, motionless. Copper shoved it off, eyes wide. We kept moving, but my injured leg refused to let me break into a full gallop.

The security door was open, but the automatic voice on the speaker had started to give a countdown to “Full Lockdown.” We bolted past the checkpoint, turrets still inactive, and skidded around the corner back towards the central atrium.

I nearly froze in my half-gallop. The room was swarming with ghouls, all snarling and running in circles. I didn’t dare stop. Somepony screamed. In quick glances, I saw a horde of them following us. My hooves splashed through flowing water, running down the hall towards the atrium. I skidded, stumbling and slowing to try and not trip, sparing a glance behind me again. Some of the ghouls had fallen over, slimming the numbers that were still chasing us upstream. And where the fuck was all this water coming from?

We turned another corner back to the entrance hall, red light still filling the halls. The door to the emergency staircase was still open, and water was flowing in a steady stream from it. “C’mon, almost there! Almost there!” Grit yelled, barely audible over the alarms.

Slowing to wade through the fetlock-deep water, we shoved through the door, and I stopped to try and close it. I pulled and pulled at the handle with all the strength my magic could muster, but the steady flow stopped me. Grit called from behind me, “Leave it! We gotta run!” I snarled, but he was right. I let go of the door and cantered up the stairs behind them, rounding up the flights. Glancing up, I saw a small waterfall pouring down from the top of the stairs, flowing past the railing and down on the ghouls below. They shoved and snarled at each other, getting caught in the doorway. A few of them shoved past and started galloping up the stairs behind us.

Grit stopped and took a few potshots below us, but if he hit any of them I couldn’t tell. He cursed and holstered the pistol, leading us to the top of the stairs. He slowed and pushed his way through the rushing water, now knee-deep in the narrow entryway. The water hammered at my legs, tearing the bandages away in an instant and exposing the bites underneath. I gasped and grunted from the sudden, sharp pain. It felt like the scabs had been ripped open. They probably had. I shook my head fiercely, forcing through and letting Copper follow after me.

A churning stream of water was rushing in from the open Stable door, flowing past us, trying to shove us back down the stairs or the elevator shaft. I leaned into the stream and we steadily climbed our way towards the cog-shaped door. The alarms weren’t blaring up here, and I could hear the snarling of ghouls behind us. I spared a quick glance back to see one of them stagger through the open door, a unicorn with green magic leaking out of its horn and eyes. It fixated on us and tried to leap into a gallop, but its hooves slipped out from under it, head hitting the floor with a sickening, wet crack. The water quickly swept it away, plunging it over the edge of the elevator shaft. I turned back to keep wading my way steadily upstream and through the cog-shaped door.

Outside, thunder rumbled and cracked overhead, a torrential downpour washing over us. I noticed that the rain was pooling and rushing down the tunnel of the Stable’s entrance. We ran across the clearing, making for the guardhouse that I’d found near the entrance, and I silently thanked Celestia that the roof was still intact. Once safely inside, the three of us stood there, catching our breath, soaked to the bone.

Copper broke the silence, falling over onto his side and letting out an exhausted laugh that got stronger and stronger, until Grit grinned and started to chuckle, too. Even I felt a smile threatening to cross my mouth, and collapsed onto my hind legs. “I vote,” Copper finally said, his laughter dying down, “to never go underground again as long as I live.”

Vigorously shaking my head to get water out of my mane, I took my saddlebags off and let them fall to the ground. The sound of them hitting the damp concrete, and of the metal chains inside jingling, immediately soured my mood. I sat facing a corner, as the sound of Copper’s laughter rung in my head. He still thought we’d saved him from that Stable. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? How would he know that I’d been sent by a raider to enslave him? I bit on my lip and my ear flicked at the air.

A hoof on my back snapped me out of my thoughts. I jumped to my hooves, spinning around to come face-to-face with a startled Copper. “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?” This was the first time I’d really gotten a chance to look at him, though the light in the guardhouse was dim. He was teal-coated earth pony with a brown mane, just like Malice had described him, though his frame was thin and undernourished, his eyes bloodshot.

“I’m fine,” I answered, flicking my tail and sitting down. My muzzle twisted in a wince as a fresh ache pulsed from the bite wound in my hind leg. “It’s just my legs.”

Seemingly satisfied with that, Copper stepped back and sat down, beaming at us as Grit rummaged in his own saddlebags. “Well, like I said before, my name’s Copper, and it’s a pleasure to meet you two! I thought I’d starve to death in that Stable.”

“I’m Grit, an’ likewise, Copper.” Grit just offered a genuine smile as he floated a roll of bandages out from his bags, moving towards me. “An’ hold out your legs, Alloy, gotta patch up those bites again.”

I nodded and turned to Copper to introduce myself. “I’m Alloy Shaper,” I said, standing up and stretching out my legs for Grit to rebandage. I noticed that blood was streaming down my drenched fur, and I shivered.

“Well I owe you two my life.” I winced a little, but not from Grit wrapping up my foreleg. “What brought you two out here anyway?”

Grit glanced at me, and opened his mouth, but I spoke first. “We were looking for something. Something important to me.” It was the truth.

“Oh. Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Copper’s ears drooped as he slumped a little. “Did you find it?” My throat clenched up, a knot blocking any speech. I just nodded, curling up on the ground. I didn’t have to put the chains and collar on Copper now, did I? It could wait until morning.

I glanced outside to see the sky turning dark as the rain kept pouring. “Look, I’m worn out from that Stable. I’m gonna get some sleep. We’ll get moving early in the morning.”

“Yea. Yea, okay, that makes sense. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?”

I cringed a little, grateful that I was facing the wall. The lump in my throat threatened to choke the life out of me. It stole any strength from my voice. “Sure,” was all I could manage.

I curled up a little tighter next to my saddlebags, but couldn’t stop thinking about the chains inside them.

* * * * * * *

A nightmare. If only that’s all it was. I floated in midair, somewhere close enough to watch, but too far to change the memory. I saw a pony below. Me. Younger. Happy. It shifted to looking like Copper, and then back to me again, but it didn’t seem strange.

I walked in the Wasteland, alone. A cargo wagon, tilted on its side and open to the world, caught Copper’s attention. I trotted up to it, not a care in the world for my own safety. How could he have been so fucking stupid?

Too absorbed in sifting through the cargo containers, I didn’t hear the hoofsteps in the entrance behind me. Didn’t hear the clinking of chains. I screamed at Copper to get up, to turn around, to run!

It didn’t work.

The stallion who’d snuck up on me bashed the side of my head with a bat, then snapped a collar around my neck. I felt the itch of hide being rubbed raw, scratched bloody by the violent yank of the chain. I wasn’t watching from afar anymore, I was in the truck. My head spinning. The collar clenching around my neck. The cuffs locking around my forelegs. He told me to march. I tried to pull my sword up, but he clipped me in the head with his bat again.

I couldn’t stop crying, even when he threatened me. I’d left my father to go scavenging alone. Why hadn’t I listened? Celestia… Luna… help me… please…

I screamed just before I woke up.

* * * * * * *

My eyes bolted open and I scrambled to my hooves, breathing rapidly. I couldn’t shake the memory anymore. I felt the chains shifting around in my bags, resting against my back legs. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I trotted outside, carefully stepping over the sleeping form of Copper to breath in the morning air.

Dawn was just breaking, and mist clung to the Bayou around us like a web. Grit was already stretching his legs outside when I emerged, and I clenched my throat to force back the feeling of wanting to throw up.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Well enough.” I took a deep breath, looking at the mist around us. “We should head towards the river. Follow it south after that so that we don’t run into the Gators.”

Grit nodded, checking his PipBuck briefly. “Decent idea. But what about him?”

My blood ran cold. I glanced over my shoulder at the guard station and sighed. “I,” I swallowed, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

“You really gonna go through with this? I mean, I know that’s been th’ plan this whole time, but…” his voice trailed off.

“I’ll think of something,” I dismissed.

“You’ll think o’ somethin’.” Grit’s response wasn’t a reassurance. His voice was flat, almost sarcastic.

“We already talked about this, Grit. And it’s my problem, anyway.” I snapped. He recoiled a little, our eyes locking together before he just looked away.

“Alright. Well we best get movin’. It’ll prob’ly take us two days t’ get from here t’ th’ bridge again, if that’s where we’re headed.” He checked his PipBuck again, and turned to head back to the guardhouse. “I’ll wake ‘im up.”

* * * * * * *

Copper had spent the whole trip through the Bayou making small talk with Grit, asking him where he was from, where I was from, and every little detail that could be expanded upon. It was fine by me, as the longer I could spend not looking at Copper joyful smile, the better. With each step, it felt like the weight in my saddlebags was getting heavier, and I was running out of time. What could I do? If I just… let him go, then I’d get hunted down by Malice and her crew and face a fate worse than death. If I just locked him up now and got it over with, I’d have to deal with dragging him against his will for longer. But then I’d be… And he’d be no different than I’d been, all those years ago. Just a run of bad luck.

Just the fucking Wasteland having its fun with me.

We reached the banks of the Bridle river sooner than I’d expected. How had we already gotten this far? It was too soon, I still had no plan! Grit said something that I missed, nodding his head to the right and starting to walk south.

Copper just stood still, rubbing one fetlock against the other. “Actually, uh… I was kinda heading north from here…before I got caught in that Stable I mean.” He gave a nervous chuckle.

Grit glanced over at me. My blood had run cold again. Of course he wouldn’t want to go south. He of all ponies knew that the further south we went, the closer we got to Malice and her gang. “Ah, but uh… our homes’re ‘cross th’ river,” Grit began. “We gotta head t’ th’ bridge so we can get back across an’ get home.”

The teal-coated earth pony nodded. “Right. Well, I mean, that’s fair. But I really do have to keep moving north. There’s… something I gotta do up, closer to New Appleloosa, y’see. So I guess this is goodbye!”

He turned around and started to walk away. No, no, no, no! My mind raced. If I drew my pistol or sword, he might just run for it. And I could barely aim my shots. I panicked, and opened my saddlebags.

Right on top was the collar and chain. I floated it out of my bag, ignoring the wide-eyed look from Grit as I snapped it around Copper’s neck and held the chain tight.

The sound of it locking into place, with the padlock over the clasp, was the loudest sound I’d ever heard in my life.

For an eternity, none of us moved an inch. I stood, behind Copper, the chain held taut to stop him from trotting away. Copper faced away from me, his body twitching. The only sounds came from the river, water flowing past, splashing along the coast. Copper’s head twitched again.

I thought I could hear him sob quietly, but it could have just been the river.

It was just the river.

I couldn’t see Grit.

Finally, Copper turned back to face me, his eyes red and swollen. “So that’s how it is, huh?” I couldn’t find any words. None at all. I worked my mouth in silence and then just turned away from him, my own vision blurring. “So that’s how it fuckin’ is, huh?!” The chain jerked and I looked back to see him sitting on his haunches, laughing. “Un-fucking-believable… I really thought I’d caught a lucky break! But you two!” He stabbed an accusatory hoof at me. “My fucking saviors only rescued me for this!”

I tugged at the chain, feeling it twist up my insides as I did. I wanted to puke again.

Copper got up, following the chain and walking after me as I started to walk towards Grit, heading south along the riverbank. His eyes were wide, alternating between me and Copper. Behind us, he called out, “So tell me, did she send you?”

I stopped in a mid-step, hesitating, briefly wondering if I should answer before resuming my pace.

“I knew it, I fucking knew it!” Now Copper’s voice was wavering, sobs breaking up his accusations again. “Why d-don’t you just… fucking kill me now?” I didn’t dare look back. Just one hoof in front of the other. “Just kill me!” I can’t. “Please, you can’t take me back…” I can’t let you go. “Please… don’t do this…”

One hoof in front of the other. One hoof in front of the other. Copper fell silent.

I’m sorry.

* * * * * * *

The rest of the day’s walk had been in total silence. Not even Grit could lighten this mood. We found an old house to sleep in for the night, and the same nightmare flashed through my memory again, but this time it didn’t even bolt me awake.

I could only do one thing.

I heard Copper stir awake, though I didn’t turn my head to look at him. I just stared out the window, into the slowly-lightening sky. I couldn’t look at him. The rest of the journey wasn’t long, we’d make it to Malice’s camp by midday. I couldn’t procrastinate for much longer, and even if I wasn’t running out of time, the choice sitting before me was so terrifying I doubted I could stay sane for much longer. I’d been able to put it off before we found him, to not think about it. There had been other problems to deal with, more immediate hurdles. We had to find him first. We had to save him. We had to capture him. Don’t think about what comes after.

But now the moment had arrived. There was nothing else to think about.

“Figures,” Copper said in a groggy voice, breaking me from my thoughts. “Thought this whole thing mighta been a nightmare.” He tugged at the chain on his collar and shook his head with a forced chuckle.

“If only,” I said quietly, still staring out the window. I opened my saddlebags, rummaging around to find our food, and pulled out my last carrot from Stable 15, gently setting it down in front of our prisoner. “Here. Breakfast. It’s a carrot, what they used to make Sparkle~Cola with.”

Copper looked from me to the carrot suspiciously. “What, celebrating your victory early, breaking out the fancy food?” His question was bitter, and it jabbed at my heart with what I planned to do.

I winced, out of his view, and told myself repeatedly that this was the best way, the only way, like a mantra. But I just couldn’t bring myself to answer him, and he turned his attention back to the carrot, poking at it with a hoof before propping it up on a foreleg, leaning down to take a bite.

After a few seconds of chewing, he spoke up again, his voice regaining a little of the energy he had in Stable 36. “Not bad. Almost tastes better than Sparkle~Cola.”

I turned my head towards him, lighting my horn to rummage through my bags. “Yea,” I said in a voice as hollow as my faint smile.

With an earsplitting boom, my revolver went off, blasting him in the back of the head and sending blood splattering on the opposite wall. Copper’s lifeless head hit the floor.

“I think so, too.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Quest Failed

Author's Notes:

My thanks again go to Pipistrelle, Mondo, and Promptanon for their work on this chapter.