Pinkie was dreaming.

They were all outside, and it was night, though there were no stars. It was cold, colder than the worst Ponyville winter she had experienced, but she felt nothing; she only knew it empirically, the same way she knew that they were not home.

She looked at her friends and tried to study their faces, but couldn’t see them clearly. Standing among them were six more, all generic pony-shapes with no identifying features, save one. This one pony’s body was different, a little shorter and with a more solid-looking aspect, which, though still anonymous and gray and blank, struck her as familiar.

“I know that pony,” she thought, and looked around.

They stood in a wide, dead, brown field of weeds and spindly grass, striated with stripes of useless, harsh earth. Bloated, black clouds rolled overhead in fat ropes, turning over each other like whales. A dusty wind blew, and Pinkie knew that this too was cold; if it rained, they might freeze.

The field was completely empty, except for a dilapidated, dark building at its far end. It stood against the frigid and treeless horizon like an abandoned crate, its perfectly square frame and wicked, rough edges forming a bold silhouette that set Pinkie’s fur on edge and her mind on alert.

A unicorn-shape stepped forward, and they followed behind it slowly, fearfully. Pinkie saw no Rainbow Dash-shape flying above them; to her immediate perception, this was not out of the ordinary, but in her secret, private mind, the source of her Pinkie Sense, the first pangs of fear resounded.

As she followed, she immediately knew that they were not welcome. The dread in her heart, small at first, grew bigger with each step, turning from hesitance to anxiety to fear to gibbering terror, each pace deeper into the field intensifying the volume of her flailing mind and pounding heart. She knew the others could feel it too, and only by the force of their collective wills did they still move forward.

Her eyes again went back to the building. For as long as she could remember, she had dismissed the constrictive concept of evil, but the building before her, so heavy, so square, so utterly ordinary, was, inextricably and directly to her mind, exactly that. There was no goodness here. She could feel it in her body like a poison, in the ground like ash, and she could taste it in the air like soot.

They stopped suddenly, and she let out an inaudible sigh of relief. The compulsion to run back shot through her dream-mind, but she resisted it. The collection of pony-shapes turned to face one of the others at the back, who was speaking: a set of instructions. They would go on, and they would return. But to what? Someone said something, and the pony-shape nodded.

They continued, and Pinkie felt a new wave of fear crash over her; she looked back at the building, with a terror so desperate that she immediately had to avert her eyes. Still, with her gaze away from the dark point, she could see it, as clear and sinister as if it occupied the entire horizon. Everywhere she looked, it was nothing but that lonesome, terrible building.

She listened again to her secret mind, hoping desperately for anything to speak to her, to clarify the fear she felt. It spoke quietly, and she could only just discern the idea, though she did not want to. Her own doubt and denial of what her mind said obscured its intensity, but could not altogether abolish the simple, singular understanding that throbbed in the center of her consciousness: “It’s coming.”

She scanned the field in front of her wildly, her eyes combing over it for any sign of the mysterious, threatening “it.”

“Being on your guard will do you no good,” she thought to herself, her internal voice dispassionate and commanding. “Your only hope is to run. You know this, and yet you stand.”

She knew the voice was right, but she couldn’t believe it; her legs were locked in place, and the rational part of her mind refused to work as she continued looking around.

“Run,” she said soundlessly, and the dream ponies looked at her. “Run,” she repeated, her voice completely even. She opened her mouth to say it once more, but, in that instant, thought differently. “Too late.” Directly from her secret mind to her friends’ ears.

As she said it, she could feel it coming, fast. Too fast to fight. It was inside the building, and in a moment, she felt it approach; it was the sickening, leaden feeling of inevitability, like sinking into endless water. She saw nothing, but felt it draw near.

She looked at a pegasus-shape, and watched with unbelieving horror as its neck split open in one sudden, violent motion, gray blood spraying them as its head plopped onto the ground like an overripe fruit. She tried to look around, to back away, but her body refused to move; through her peripheral vision, she saw a different shape collapse, seeming to deflate. She shouted out, and a unicorn-shape, standing right next to her, swelled suddenly and fell to its knees; the dream was still silent, but she knew it was screaming angrily, trying to move but only kicking impotently at the ground. Rooted to the spot, Pinkie tried to run, to no avail. She felt her own eyes go dark and her body tumble, and her mind flailed into a swirling, chaotic panic. For a mere second, she thought she was dying.

She jerked awake, seeing only the darkness of the library around her. There was no conscious thought as she shot to her hooves with a bloodcurdling scream, whipping around frantically, her mind repeating the same horrible thing like a siren. “It’s coming, it’s coming, oh dear Celestia, it’s coming, it’s coming, and we can only run.”

She ran to a window and looked out, seeing nothing but the segmented Ponyville skyline. It did nothing to ease her fear. In the darkness, she seemed to feel the impossible approach of the dream-creature, fast and deliberate.

“Pinkie, what’s goin’ on?” Applejack half-shouted, grabbing her firmly and turning her around to face them. Rarity and Rainbow were standing back, afraid, and Twilight, Fluttershy and Spike were coming quickly down the stairs.

“What’s the matter?” Twilight asked, her voice serious.

“I—I—” Pinkie floundered for something to say, and, finding nothing, gave another scream, which turned into a sob. “It’s coming,” she said, and, finding power in the words, said it again. “It’s coming, everypony, it’s coming. We have to go now!”

“What’s comin’, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, still holding Pinkie firmly.

“I… don’t know. A monster, I think. No, worse than a monster. Maybe even worse than Discord. It’s coming,” she whispered, trying to turn and look back out the window.

“What kind of monster, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, going to the window herself.

“I don’t know! It’s worse than anything else, ever, though. Worse than even the scariest things in the Everfree Forest!”

“What could possibly be worse than that?” Rarity asked, getting scared herself.

“It was just a dream, Pinkie,” Fluttershy said, approaching the panicked earth pony.

“It was more than a dream,” Pinkie rasped; her voice hurt from screaming.

“Tell me about it,” Twilight said.

Pinkie simply sobbed again. They all exchanged worried looks.

“Spike, would you mind making some tea?” Twilight asked quietly.

Spike gave no response, and merely walked to the kitchen, casting an unsettled glance at Pinkie.

Fluttershy and Applejack guided Pinkie to the couch and sat her down; she resisted at first.

“But it’s coming,” she said.

“It was just a dream, darling. A nightmare. Ponies have them every now and again,” Rarity said.

“It was more than a dream!” Pinkie repeated emphatically, and Twilight scowled in thought. She knew she could dismiss it as a particularly bad dream, but, she also knew, Pinkie was special. What if the dream was just another manifestation of her Pinkie Sense? The implications made her body break out in gooseflesh. She stared out the window, seeing nothing threatening.

Pinkie took a few shaking minutes to calm down, and the teakettle squealed; Spike emerged with a few mugs of steaming tea a minute later. He handed one to Pinkie and one to Twilight, and went back in for more.

Pinkie drank hers slowly and got more of a grip on herself. When Twilight saw that she had calmed down enough to speak, she asked Pinkie again to relay the dream.

“We were somewhere… else,” she said at last. “All six of us, and six others.”

“Who were the others?” Rainbow asked.

“I couldn’t tell. They all looked the same, except for one; one looked different, familiar in some way.”

“Familiar how?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t really know. I just got the impression that I knew her.”

“But you don’t know who any of them were.”

“No.”

“And where were we?” Rarity asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think any of us have been there before. It was really, really cold. We were in a field, but it was all dead.”

“Maybe you can describe the scenery,” Twilight said. “Any clouds, or trees, or buildings?”

“No trees, but I remember the clouds. They were…” She thought for a second. “Black. Not dark gray, but black, and they were moving faster than I’ve ever seen clouds move before. They went across the whole sky.”

Twilight frowned. “I don’t like that at all.”

“There was a building too,” Pinkie said quietly.

“Tell me about it.”

She took a breath, shuddering, and took several sips of tea before speaking. “I can’t really describe it. It was just… horrible. It was regular-looking, square, but it was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. We were all scared. We started walking towards it, but one of the ponies stopped us, and told us something. And before we could keep moving, I…” She swallowed, and continued, so quiet they had to lean in. “I felt it coming. I don’t know what it was, and I didn’t see it, but it was coming for us, fast.”

“The monster,” Applejack said.

“Yeah. The monster. It came, and it… it k—kiooooh,” she moaned, burying her face in a couch cushion.

“It killed us,” Twilight finished for her, and she nodded.

“Is that when you woke up?”

She nodded again.

Twilight thought it over for a while, eventually getting up and going to a bookshelf.

“Is it still comin’, Pinkie?” Applejack asked.

“No, it’s not. I think it was just the dream still.”

“Are you going to be okay, darling? You look terrible,” Rarity said.

“I’m fine,” Pinkie said quietly, bringing her face out of the cushion.

“What do you think, Twi?” Applejack asked.

“I don’t know what to think.” She closed a book and grabbed another one. “I know Pinkie has her Pinkie Sense, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her dream is somehow prophetic. But based on what she described, I really hope I’m wrong.”

“What kind of horrid place could Pinkie have been describing, though?” Rarity asked. “I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

“I don’t know. It’s probably somewhere in the south, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Rainbow asked.

“Well, Pinkie said it was cold. You did, right?”

Pinkie nodded, sipping her tea.

“Southern Equestria is much colder than middle or northern,” Twilight said. “It’s got a generally higher elevation, plus a higher latitude. I know there’s a glacier in the southwest, just on the border between Equestria and the griffon kingdom.”

“I didn’t know Equestria had a glacier,” Applejack said.

“It’s technically a piedmont glacier,” Twilight said. “The majority of it is formed in a valley on the griffon side of the border, but the ice spills out onto the plains of Equestria, where it flattens out. That’s the part of the glacier we have.”

“What’s this got to do with Pinkie’s dream?” Rainbow asked impatiently.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just thinking out loud.” She pulled out a map and looked at it, focusing on the southwestern region. “Hm. There’s just one town on this map, and it’s only a few miles away from the foot of the glacier.”

“How do we know that’s where it was?” Rarity asked.

“We don’t, not exactly,” Twilight said. “But that’s where it’s going to be coldest.” She looked around on the shelf, frowning. “Spike, can you help me find a book?”

“Oh, can’t it wait until morning, Twilight?”

“Yeah, I’m still tired,” Rainbow said. “I say we all go back to sleep, and you can research this in the morning.”

“Rainbow’s right,” Applejack said, and Fluttershy yawned in agreement.

“All these books will still be here tomorrow,” Rarity said. She thought for a moment, and then, jumping up, uttered a small cry of alarm.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, suddenly alert again.

Rarity ran for the library door. “I left Opalescence in the ship’s hold!”

Pinkie gave a single, small giggle, and they looked at her.

“Feeling better?” Twilight asked.

“I think so. I’m not scared anymore.” She stretched and yawned. “Thanks for the tea, Spike.”

“Don’t mention it, Pinkie,” he said, looking at her curiously.

They could hear Opalescence wailing outside, and Rarity brought her in a moment later, letting her go onto the floor, where she ran for the corner.

“I can’t believe I forgot her,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, great, the cat’s inside now,” Rainbow said, flying back to her bookshelf. “If we’re done here now, I’d like to get back to sleep.”

They all murmured agreement, and Twilight and Fluttershy again ascended the stairs, Spike at their fetlocks.

“Do you really think Pinkie’s dream could be about the future?” Spike asked, curling up in his basket.

“I do, Spike. And that’s what worries me,” Twilight said. With that, they drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

The morning came with no more nightmares, and although most of them had taken a bit longer to go back to sleep than Twilight and Spike, they awoke rested and refreshed. Twilight was the last to rise, coming down to the main room to them already talking, mostly about Pinkie’s dream. Spike went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, and Twilight went to the bookshelves again.

Her thoughts were full of Pinkie’s nightmare, and she was bothered that she had so little information to substantiate her research. None of the details were familiar to her; she knew no monsters that moved as quickly as Pinkie said, nor had she ever heard of the types of clouds she described. She closed her eyes for a moment. The dream, the infection, the ground, the battle, the balcony. Waking up in her own bed had helped, but her mind still felt heavy with worry, unanswerable.

“What are you doing?” Rainbow asked, jarring her out of her thoughts.

“I’m trying to find more on that town by the glacier,” Twilight said, looking up again and pushing some books aside. “I’m willing to bet that’s where Pinkie’s dream took place.”

“Based on the fact that it was cold?” Applejack asked.

“It’s the best we have.”

“Ah s’pose.”

“What’s the town called, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

“Snowdrift,” she said. “Any of you heard of it?”

They all shook their heads.

“I’ve only seen it mentioned in other books, usually history books, but I haven’t seen anything written specifically about it.”

“What did the history books say?” Pinkie asked.

“Not a whole lot, unfortunately. Snowdrift has been the center of a couple conflicts in the past.”

“Oh, no. Um, what kind of conflicts?” Fluttershy asked.

“It used to be a research station, back when Equestria and the griffons were at war, and then it was the center for some revolutionaries. Besides that, I’ve only ever seen the name a couple times in magical history books. Did you know that Starswirl the Bearded invented twelve different spells when he went there?”

“Wow, twelve,” Rainbow said disinterestedly.

“But that’s all I can tell you off the top of my head.” Twilight looked up and down the shelves, but nothing caught her eye, and so she joined her friends.

“So, when are we gonna try to cast our spell?” Applejack asked.

“I don’t know. After breakfast, I guess. But we have to find a spot that’s big enough, and close enough to every part of the town that we won’t have to cast it twice.”

“The town square?” Fluttershy suggested.

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Twilight said. She looked up at a small clattering from the kitchen, and got up. “I’m going to see if Spike needs any help.”

She trotted into the kitchen, and they looked at each other. “You okay, Pinkie?” Rainbow asked.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“There’s one thing Ah don’t understand ‘bout this dream of yers,” Applejack said. “What Twilight said ‘bout that Snowdrift town makes enough sense, on account of the cold, but what ‘bout the six extra ponies?”

“Yeah, that seems weird to me too,” Rainbow said. “It’s not like we’re gonna find any ponies that’re willing to just come along with us.”

“We might,” Pinkie said. “The more the merrier, right?”

“Sure, but what kind of pony will want to come with us on this kind of adventure? They’d have to be crazy.”

“We’re not crazy,” Pinkie said, giving a small smile.

“Breakfast is ready!” Twilight called from the kitchen, and they went out into it.

The table was set with seven bowls of oatmeal and a couple greens to the side. They took their places, and Spike fixed them with a curious, but serious, expression.

“So, what’s going on? What is all this?” he asked.

They all looked at him, at each other, and Twilight began speaking, slowly at first, telling the same story Pinkie had told the Cakes, and Applejack had told her family, the day before. Spike listened without interruption, and when breakfast was done, he had hardly eaten, so rapt he was in her words.

“So when are you leaving?” he asked.

“Soon, I’m afraid,” Twilight said quietly. The story once again told, her mood had dropped.

“After you cast your spell.”

“Yeah.”

“And did I hear you say that you were gonna try that after breakfast?”

“Yes, Spike. We’re going to go into the town center for it.”

He spooned the oatmeal around his bowl idly. “Can I come with?”

“I don’t see why not,” Rainbow said, looking at Twilight.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Twilight said.

He looked down. “But not when you leave Ponyville,” he said sulkily.

“I’m sorry, Spike, really, but you read Princess Celestia’s letter. You need to stay here and make sure the library is taken care of. Besides, it’ll be far too dangerous for you once we leave.”

“Right.” He sighed quietly. “I know that.”

There was an interval of silence, in which Spike moodily looked at the tabletop.

“When are we going to Sugarcube Corner?” Rainbow asked hesitantly.

“Right after the spell,” Twilight said.

“Uh, about that,” Applejack said. “Ah dunno if you’ve realized this, Twilight, but if ponies see us castin’ that spell, we’re gonna get mobbed with requests fer help.”

“That’s fine. We can help everypony.”

“That’s gonna take a really long time,” Rainbow said.

“She’s absolutely right,” Rarity said. “We’re supposed to go to Canterlot in the next few days. I know it sounds cruel, but we can’t stick around helping ponies with every little problem.”

“But we can’t just leave as soon as we’re done with our spell,” Twilight said.

“Well, no, not now. You’ve volunteered us to help rebuild the bakery.”

Twilight looked at her. “Um… yes, I suppose I did.”

“We’ll just have to hope no one sees where we go after the spell,” Rarity said lightly.

“They’ll see us in the airship,” Rainbow said.

“Well, we can’t leave it at the town square,” Twilight said.

“Maybe Spike could take it back to the library?” Fluttershy offered.

“Maybe. Spike? Do you think you could take the airship back here after we’re done?”

“I’ll have to look at it, but I’m sure I can,” he said, looking up at her with a smile.

“Good. Finish your breakfast, and come out with us,” Twilight said, standing.

They went out to the ship, leaving Spike alone, and boarded. It still felt strange to Twilight, standing on the wooden deck. She had seen airships, and read about them extensively, but never before had she had the opportunity to ride one. She looked around, observing everything she had not the day before: the rumpled metal of the torch, the thick-threaded seams of the black balloon, the sanded and varnished rails that curved slightly along the ship’s length like rims of a wheel. Nearby, Fluttershy was talking to Rarity, who responded shortly.

When Spike boarded, everyone turned to him, and Applejack took him to the aft hatch, into the engine room. He came back onto deck after a few minutes, and Applejack showed showed him the torch. “An’ you flip this switch when you want to turn it on, an’ flip it again when you wanna turn it off. It’s that easy.”

“No problem.”

She led him to the wheel. “You ever steer somethin’ like this?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Well, we don’t wanna take any chances; this is Celestia’s airship, after all. Let me show you how it’s done.”

She gave him a quick explanation, and then she raised the gangplank. “Are we ready to go, Twi?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Spike turned on the torch, and they floated up to a height of about thirty feet before he went down to turn on the engines, running back up to turn them around.

“This should be a short flight,” Twilight said. “It’s only a couple blocks to the town center.”

“It’s such a shame we have to waste time taking this ship for such a short trip,” Rarity said, and Twilight nodded without looking at her.

“I agree, Rarity,” Spike said, turning his head quickly.

“Are you ready, Pinkie?” Twilight asked.

“Yup! Are you ready, Twilight?”

“I think so.”

“Do you still have the drawing equipment Princess Celestia gave you?” Fluttershy asked.

Twilight flared her horn quickly—it caused her no pain—to check. The brush and ink she had been given two nights ago were still there, forgotten in the magical space that kept them separated from the rest of the world. “I’ve got it.”

They took to the air and slid over the segmented town, over skewed and collapsed houses. Twilight stared down, dully unbelieving. In the panic and pressure from Pinkie’s outburst, she had forgotten the more dire problem, the one that now reasserted itself vividly.

They could see the mayor’s office behind the rough ring of buildings that surrounded the town center, an empty disc of grass and pathways around small statues and fountains. They passed over a dangerously tilting shop, its front spattered out onto the ground as though it had exploded from within, and slowly drifted to the ground, landing just next to the town hall’s north wall. The town center had its own oval of ground, its edges ending before the majority of the other buildings that surrounded, leaving the mayoral building the only structure on the island.

As they descended, a small crowd of confused ponies gathered around.

“Let the fun begin,” Rainbow muttered.

They landed and walked out, stopping before the group of onlookers; it was small, consisting of the mayor and seven others, who all stared at them blankly. Spike retracted the ramp and waited, watching.

“Um, hi,” Twilight said lamely.

“What’s going on here?” the mayor asked calmly.

“Um.” Twilight tried to think of a way to succinctly explain what they were doing. “We’re here to cast a spell that will repair all the damage done by the… earthquake.”

A murmur swept through the crowd, and Twilight picked out a few skeptical words and expressions.

“A spell, you say?” the mayor questioned, her eyebrow raised.

“Given to us by Princess Luna herself!” Pinkie said, and the crowd’s murmurs lightened.

“Come into my office,” the mayor said. “There is much that I want to know, and I think you have answers for me.” She turned and parted the crowd, leading them into the town hall.

Twilight turned and gave Spike a nod; he took the cue and turned on the torch again. “Don’t volunteer any information, but don’t hold anything back either,” she said under her breath; her friends nodded.

When they were inside, the mayor took them to her office, a small room at the back of the building with a large crescent of a desk and a gauntlet of filing cabinets under a band of windows, of which only one was broken.

“How much can you explain about our current situation?” she asked crisply.

“Oh, um,” Twilight stuttered.

“Everythin’,” Applejack finished.

“Most everything,” Twilight corrected. “There are a few things we don’t know yet.”

The mayor nodded. “I am no fool, Twilight. This was more than an earthquake.”

“Yes, it was.”

“This is Discord’s doing.”

“Yes, it was.”

“When did he cast this spell?”

“It was a parting shot after we chased him off.”

The mayor nodded. “Celestia and I have been in contact since last night, of course.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Just the basics. War, Discord, giant spell, and the Elements of Harmony are now charged with undoing what has been done. I know no specifics.”

Twilight looked at her friends; they had stepped back. “So I speak for the group now, I see,” she thought with a small frown. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t suppose you know how such a spell managed to bring this kind of ruination upon Equestria.”

“Uh, Princess Celestia said that it was just… huge.”

“Huge?”

“There isn’t any functional difference between the magic, uh, he used and a regular earthquake spell. His is just really scaled up.”

“Interesting.” The mayor tapped her chin. “What about this spell of yours?”

“It’s just something Pinkie and I learned to restore the pieces of ground.”

“Both of you?”

Twilight froze, and the mayor looked at her.

“How is Pinkie part of—oh, wait. I remember now.”

“What?”

“When Pinkie first moved here, her arrival was preceded by a letter from Celestia, detailing her… peculiarities.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes.

“Her magic,” the mayor said bluntly. “Honestly, Twilight, you’re being much less forthcoming than usual. What are you so worried about?”

“I just don’t want word to get out about what we’re doing.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that by tonight, it will have. Those ponies out there will put two and two together very quickly after their whole world just knits itself back together.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Do you not want to have to tell and retell the whole story, perhaps? Are you afraid that you will be met with anger, or fear? Or that word of Pinkie’s abilities will cause problems?”

Twilight was happy to have her concerns voiced so clearly. “Yes. All of that, yes.”

“I understand. I think it’s in your best interest to pretend that you are the only one casting the repair spell, Twilight.”

“But Pinkie has to be visible for the spell.”

“Why?”

“I have to draw a sigil, and—”

“And she must stay in the center, I see. If anyone asks, you can just say that she’s a point to focus your magic energy. Most of them will believe that, I imagine.”

Twilight nodded. She was impressed at the mayor’s knowledge of magic.

“So you repair Ponyville, and then what?” she asked.

“Then we have to move on. The spell’s only big enough to cover Ponyville.”

“Ah, so you’ll be traveling.” She thought for a moment. “And what of Discord?”

“We’re going to find the Elements of Harmony, and defeat him again.”

“Find the Elements. Is that to mean that they are lost?”

“It is.”

“Did he hide them?”

“Scatter, actually.”

The mayor frowned. “How far?”

“We don’t know. But far. More than fifty miles.”

“It looks like you have your work cut out for you,” she said dully.

“You could say that.”

“Tell me more about this spell. Will it endanger my citizens or my town?”

“Um.” Twilight looked at Pinkie. “Pinkie, you’re doing all the work. Is this going to be dangerous at all?”

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Have you done this before?” the mayor asked.

“Nope!”

“Hm.” The mayor frowned.

“It should just be a matter of bringing the pieces of land back together and reconnecting them,” Twilight said. “As long as Pinkie’s careful, I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”

“The only danger would be if any buildings are on an edge, in which case the motion might send them tumbling over,” the mayor said thoughtfully.

Before she could think better of it, Twilight glanced at Rarity. Her eyes looked moist.

“And if there are any ponies near the edges, or between them for some reason,” the mayor continued, “there could be trouble.” She looked at Twilight and Pinkie. “What can you do about that?”

Rainbow stepped forward. “I can fly around and warn everypony.”

The mayor nodded. “Yes, that can work. Not yet, though. Wait until everyone’s out there.” She looked back to Twilight. “I don’t suppose you can tell me how this floating works, can you? Are we going to fall?”

“I don’t really know,” Twilight said. “Princess Celestia thinks it’s just a levitation spell. And no, she doesn’t think we’ll fall.”

The mayor sighed in relief. “That’s good news. How high up are we?”

“About a mile.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t understand, mayor. Didn’t she tell you any of this?”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, and I can’t exactly call anyone.” She gestured loosely at the phone on her desk—one of the few in Ponyville. “Every phone line in the country is down.” She shook her head. “Every city in Equestria is cut off from each other.”

“I’m sorry, mayor.”

“Don’t apologize, Twilight. It’s not your fault.”

“Right.”

The mayor shuffled a few papers around. “I have no more questions for you at this point, but I sense that you have some of your own.”

“Just one. Is everypony okay?”

“Unfortunately, no. I haven’t seen anything for myself, but I’ve had pegasi telling me about the state of the town. Several ponies are injured, and some are dead.” Her voice went quiet. “I don’t know how many.”

Applejack gasped, and Fluttershy let out a small moan.

“I’m so sorry,” Twilight said.

“Yes, it is a tragedy,” the mayor said.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Rarity asked.

“Casting your spell will be the best thing right now. Maybe after that, you can help.” She looked out the window. “However, I do not want to keep you here any longer than I must.”

“It’s no problem,” Twilight said.

“Uh, Twilight,” Applejack said.

“Huh?”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, mayor, but yer right. We don’t need to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary. We’re hopin’ to just cast our spell, stay a day or two, an’ leave.”

“Of course, Applejack. I understand completely.” She looked at them all. “Do you have any more questions?”

“No, mayor,” Twilight said.

“Then I will escort you out.” She stood, and they left the office, where the crowd of ponies waited on the steps. Rainbow took off, and the mayor corralled the ponies into the building, leaving a wide, empty lawn for Twilight to draw her sigil. She directed Pinkie to the middle and the others to the stairs, then, summoning her ink and brush, took a moment to think.

“Fluttershy, if Rainbow comes back, and I’m still working, could you intercept her? I need to concentrate.”

“Oh, of course, Twilight.”

Twilight nodded and cleared her thoughts, concentrating on giving Pinkie her magic. “At least this time I don’t have a war going on around me,” she thought. She dipped her brush in the ink and started the outer circle, walking a huge perimeter around Pinkie, coming a few paces from the stairs and edge of the ground.

Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack watched her begin to fill in the circle. “They’re going to see us as heroes,” Fluttershy said.

“If they must see us as anything, I would prefer that, I suppose,” Rarity said.

“They’re gonna ask us to do ‘em favors left an’ right,” Applejack said.

“And we’re probably going to do a lot of them,” Rarity said. “Twilight keeps volunteering us.”

“Oh, um, but they do need the help,” Fluttershy said.

Rarity sighed. “Yes, I know that. But we have to leave sometime.”

“Well, we’re going to help the Cakes with the bakery as soon as we’re done here. Maybe we can leave after that.”

“I hope to.”

“How long do ya think that’ll take us?” Applejack asked.

“If the upper floors are anything like the ground floor, not long. Especially since half of us are magical, we we shouldn’t take that long,” Fluttershy said.

“If we’re lucky, we can finish by tonight,” Rarity said.

“Assumin’ Twilight and Pinkie aren’t exhausted from this,” Applejack said.

“But of course.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. What if they’re too tired to help?” Fluttershy asked.

“Then it’ll be just us,” Rarity said.

They were quiet for a moment, and watched Twilight draw in peace.

“Fluttershy, Princess Celestia said you have a fair amount of magic, did she not?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, well, yes,” Fluttershy said quietly, blushing. “But I don’t know any spells.”

“Even so. Having as much magic as you is nothing to scoff at.”

“Yeah, Fluttershy. To be a pegasus and to have magical powers? Shoot, Ah don’t have either of that stuff.”

“Oh, Applejack, but you do have a little magic, don’t you?” Fluttershy asked.

“Not enough to count.”

“Well, at least you don’t have any illusions about it,” Rarity said.

“Don’t worry, Rarity, Ah’m not jealous or anythin’. Yer all magical, an’ Ah’m not; it ain’t nothin’ to get worked up about.”

“I’m just glad you’re not like Rainbow Dash.”

“Why’s that?”

“Can you imagine how much she would complain? Not that I’m trying to make her look bad or anything.” She coughed once and looked out at Twilight, embarrassed at her words.

Twilight had filled in a fourth of the sigil, and Rarity could feel the others looking at her.

“This’ll be a while still,” she said, trying to get their thoughts off her comment.

“Here comes Rainbow,” Applejack said, and Rarity looked up to spy the multi-chromatic pegasus speeding toward them. Fluttershy got up to fly out to her, but Rainbow was already there, gliding over the sigil and landing next to them.

“Oh, Rainbow Dash, how is everything?” Fluttershy asked.

“Great! I didn’t get a chance to fly this morning.”

“I think she meant the town,” Rarity said drily.

“Oh, right. It’s pretty bad, but there aren’t many houses on the edges. I warned everypony anyway.” She looked out at Twilight. “How long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know, fifteen minutes,” Rarity said.

“Cool.” She flapped her wings once. “So, last night.”

“I woke up expecting to see Discord hovering in the library,” Rarity said.

“It was really scary,” Fluttershy said.

“I’ve never heard Pinkie scream like that, ever,” Rainbow said. “Have any of you?”

“Never,” Applejack said, and Rarity and Fluttershy nodded their agreement.

“What do you think of it?” Rarity asked.

“It was just a nightmare,” Rainbow said. “It was scary, sure, but I don’t see why we’re so worked up about it. Ponies have nightmares every now and again; it’s not a big deal.”

“Ah kinda agree with ya, RD. Though she does have her Pinkie Sense… we might want to watch out, anyway,” Applejack said.

“But we need to have six more ponies with us before her dream can come true. That’s not gonna happen.”

“Yer probably right.”

“What about that town Twilight said she was dreaming about?” Fluttershy asked.

“Snowdrift, you mean? What about it?” Rarity said.

“Doesn’t it just, I don’t know, sound bad?”

“Sounds cold,” Applejack said.

“Sounds foreign,” Rainbow said.

“I don’t see what’s so bad about it, Fluttershy,” Rarity said.

“Neither do I. It just… it makes me feel nervous.”

“Yeah, but what doesn’t?” Rainbow quipped, and Fluttershy squeaked.

“It’s the name, I think,” Rarity said.

“It’s just a word, Rarity. You know, a snowdrift? A pile of snow? That’s all it is. What’s so threatening about that?”

“I don’t know, but it is,” Fluttershy said.

They rolled their eyes. “Rainbow, dear, you never told us about your visit to the rock farm with Pinkie,” Rarity said.

“If Ah may say somethin’ ‘bout that, actually,” Applejack said. “Am Ah the only one who noticed somethin’ a little… off ‘bout Pinkie yesterday?”

“No, I noticed it too,” Rarity said.

“I was planning on asking her myself, but I figured that if she wanted to talk about it, she would,” Fluttershy said.

“Eh, I don’t know,” Rainbow said. “I don’t know how much of this she wants to keep private.”

“Just tell us what happened. You don’t have to talk about Pinkie,” Rarity urged.

“Well, all right. We flew over there, right? It’s pretty close. And Pinkie’s telling me that I need to distract her dad and sister while she slipps into the silo to get the phlogiston. ‘Sure, no problem,’ I thought. But then she told me that they were both huge grouches. And we were practically right there when she told me, so I didn’t have time to think of something. We landed, and they were right there—her mom was in the house, I think—so I just started talking. I made up something about selling tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala.”

“But that’s over half a year away,” Applejack said.

“I know that, I know that, but that was the first thing I could think of. They asked me tons of questions, and I tried to avoid them. They were really putting the pressure on, though, and I couldn’t keep up.”

“So what happened?” Fluttershy asked.

“Well, they finally called me out for lying to them. The dad walked away, and Pinkie’s sister stayed behind. She went into the silo, where Pinkie was.”

“An’ then what?” Applejack asked, leaning forward.

“They just talked. I didn’t understand most of what they said, but it didn’t sound good. Pinkie looked like she was going to cry for a while after.”

“Ah always thought there was somethin’ fishy ‘bout her childhood,” Applejack said.

“That’s really all I’m comfortable telling you.”

“But she seems fine now,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, I think it was just the shock of seeing her family yesterday,” Rainbow said, looking out at Twilight. “I know I’d be shocked if I saw my family again.”

They followed her gaze; only one third of the sigil remained.

“I can’t imagine how borin’ it must be to draw that,” Applejack said.

“It’s kind of beautiful when it’s complete,” Fluttershy said.

“Beautiful maybe, but a pain in the flank.”

They sat on the steps and watched Twilight work, slowly tracing her progress in tight loops and spirals, growing closer to the perimeter.

“Do you suppose Discord knows what we’re up to?” Rainbow asked.

“I don’t think he does,” Fluttershy said.

“What makes you say that?”

“He probably has more important things to do than watch us. Um, especially since he scattered the Elements of Harmony.”

“Yes, but surely he knows we’ll go looking for them,” Rarity said.

“I bet he doesn’t know we have a tracking spell,” Rainbow said.

“Oh, that’s true. At least we have that.”

“As long as we don’t run into him along the way, I’m sure we’ll be okay,” Fluttershy said.

“Do you honestly think we won’t?” Rainbow asked.

Fluttershy looked down. “No, I guess not. But I hope so.”

“Ah think the princess is right,” Applejack said. “He’s probably regroupin’ whatever army he has. When he’s done with that, he’s gonna attack Canterlot, Ah just know it.”

“So we need to defeat him before he can do that,” Rainbow said.

“Not necessarily,” Rarity said. “I mean, of course it would be a good idea, but even if we don’t, the princesses will be ready for him.”

“Will it do any good?” Fluttershy asked.

“They put up a fine fight this time; imagine how well they’ll do when they have some time to prepare.”

“Yer forgettin’ that Discord is the master of deception,” Applejack said. “What’s stoppin’ him from pullin’ the same trick he did this time?”

“I guarantee the princesses will have at least doubled the security,” Rarity said confidently.

“Oh, um, sorry for interrupting, but Twilight’s about to finish,” Fluttershy said.

“Oh! Here, you stay; I’m going to get a bird’s eye view of this,” Rainbow said, taking off.

Rarity leaned back a bit from the wind of Rainbow’s takeoff and watched as Twilight’s brush moved across the grass with its thin, black lines. “How does it paint uneven surfaces like that?” she wondered.

Rarity watched eagerly as Twilight finished the final flourish; she was looking forward to seeing the sigil activate in a less hectic environment. As soon as the brush left the ground, the whole, ten-foot circle turned from static black to a shimmering ichor in one wave, and Twilight stood, wavering where she had finished. Her face was slack and her eyes were empty.

A slow glow emerged from Pinkie’s center, weak at first, but as it bloomed outwards over her skin and fur, Rarity had to look away. From the corners of her eyes, she could see the buildings beginning to shake, and she could feel the ground shift slowly; she almost lost her balance on the stairs’ top.

For a while, there was no sound except the shaking that surrounded her: stressed supports, pulling joists and groaning beams and boards, buildings dragged back to their places. She looked out at the northern row of buildings, eyes averted from Pinkie’s glow. She could see the expanse of green hills at Ponyville’s border seem to roll over itself, its houses coming back toward each other slowly and deliberately.

When the movement stopped, she jumped, hoof almost slipping on the steps. Where there was once quiet, there suddenly manifested a horrible, scraping, stony noise like giant, grinding teeth, and she clamped her hooves over her ears. “The earth coming back together,” she thought unhappily. Stones rubbing together, hard-packed earth shoved against itself, the small metal screech of an underground pipe bending or breaking.

The sound lowered into an atonal rumble, like thunder underneath her, and the ground shuddered slowly. It seemed she could feel the raveling earth and stone so far below, crushing together into singularity, vibrating through the stone steps and tingling her legs. There was a long crash in the distance, and felt a flash of pity for the pony that had just lost their house or business. “You’re not alone, my friend. Not at all,” she thought miserably.

The rumbling dimmed more, and soon was gone; Pinkie’s glow followed quickly. Rarity looked around, seeing Ponyville as it was meant to be: complete. Unsplit, unmarred, with no gaps between buildings and no crevasses between blocks. She could almost believe that they were back on the Gaia. The sigil had vanished, leaving only blank grass and two tired-looking ponies.

When they were sure the spell was complete, they rushed down to Twilight and Pinkie. Twilight was lying down, awake but exhausted; Pinkie was regaining her hooves steadily.

“We should probably go now,” Rarity said, helping Twilight up and looking around. She could hear the uproar in the distance and the mayor’s doors opening behind them.

“That was awesome, Pinkie! Everypony’s going crazy!” Rainbow called as she came towards them. “They’re all heading for the town square, and if we’re not out of here right now, we’re gonna get swamped.”

The awed voices of the emerging crowd behind them, they trotted in the direction of Sugarcube Corner, their pace suffering at Twilight’s faltering gait. Pinkie bounced ahead while Rainbow flew above them, watching for approaching crowds. The ponies they did pass were too awestruck to stop them. They crossed a dirt road, each looking down at its middle. A split had run just along it, but now, as they stepped over it, there was no indication of any damage—no seams and no cracks. The restoration was flawless.

Across the empty section of roads and lone buildings behind the town center’s rim, Sugarcube Corner’s elaborately-decorated loft stood proudly against the sky. Behind, the crowd was assembling, loud with surprise, relief, wonderment and joy; their voices were blending together into one giant, happy noise. Behind, they could hear the mayor calling for order.

They crossed the lawn and approached the bakery’s front doors, where Mrs. Cake stood, looking out at the world, worried and curious. Pinkie screeched a greeting, and she smiled hugely.

“Pinkie, thank Celestia. Are you okay?”

“Yup! Everything worked perfectly!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, leading them back into the bakery.

“Where’s Mr. Cake?” Twilight asked.

“He’s upstairs, working on the loft.”

“Does he need any help?” Rarity asked.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Cake said, leading them up the stairs.

It was a narrow passage to the second floor, with only one window at its top and warm, impressing walls that gave the whole area a quiet, isolated, claustrophobic quality, much unlike the friendly rooms below. Rarity looked from side to side, leaning away from the walls; she had ascended the lonesome staircase before, during particularly late-running parties, and she never enjoyed them.

They came up into the bathroom, a spacious room with a cracked bathtub in its center and a sink to the side, pipes twisted beneath its basin. The shadow of water damage sat on the floor and wall underneath it.

“We turned off the water for now,” Mrs. Cake said.

They continued up the stairs, which spiraled gently as the walls constricted even tighter. At the top, they had to walk single-file onto the landing to the corridor to Pinkie’s room. Mr. Cake was already inside, adjusting a bare mattress, a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor to the side.

“Hey Mr. Cake!” Pinkie greeted, and he jumped.

“Oh, hello Pinkie. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“The spell worked, Carrot!” Mrs. Cake said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news! I felt the building move, and I heard everything, but I didn’t dare look out the window. How did it go, Twilight?”

“Everything was fine,” Twilight said; a little strength had returned to her voice, but expounding on the specifics of the spell did not interest her.

“Are you tired at all?” Mr. Cake asked.

“Yes, but I can still help.”

“No no, you rest up. I just need one unicorn here, anyway.” He looked over to Rarity, who smiled benignly.

“I’ll show you what you can do to help downstairs,” Mrs. Cake said, leading them back out of the room.

When they were gone, Rarity turned to Mr. Cake. “What do you need me to do?”

“Don’t worry; there’s not much left. I’ve put everything back, so all that remains are a few cracks in the walls and one big one in the ceiling.”

Rarity looked at the cracks that he indicated; there were a few small ones on the far wall, spiderwebbing up toward the window, and one large one directly above her, letting a jagged band of sunlight in.

“Do you know how to repair something like that with magic?”

Rarity frowned. “I’m afraid not.”

“That’s okay. We can do it the conventional way.” He scooted a small putty knife over to her, and she regarded it distastefully.

“What exactly is this?”

“You use it to spread the spackle,” he said, grabbing his own knife and digging it into the crack nearest the headboard. “But first, we have to clear any debris out of the cracks.”

Rarity sighed, lifting her knife and joining him.

In the bathroom, Twilight and Fluttershy were at work with the pipes and bathtub. Applejack, Rainbow, and Pinkie were down on the first floor, and Twilight could hear them chattering with Mrs. Cake. Twilight, meanwhile, crouched by the sink, trying to magically repair its split, kinked plumbing. She had insisted to Mrs. Cake that she could handle the task, but, with sweat on her brow and her knees sore with being bent, she was regretting her decision. She had made only a little progress.

Fluttershy, on the other side of the bathroom and armed with a small razor knife, was slowly cutting away the edges of the bathtub’s hole. She fumbled it with her hooves, and Twilight watched her.

“Fluttershy, what are you doing?”

“Oh, um, Mrs. Cake said I have to smooth the edges before I can start putting the epoxy in,” she said.

“Can’t you just use your magic?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, Twilight, I already tried, but I don’t know how to levitate things.”

“I meant your healing.”

“Oh. Um, I tried that too, though. I can’t do it.”

“But you’re a natural healer.”

“Yes, a healer of creatures, not of bathtubs.”

Twilight giggled, and Fluttershy smiled a little, surveying the bathroom. “At least everything else looks okay.”

“Everything else is okay,” Twilight said. “It’s just this stupid sink.” She looked at it distastefully and grabbed a pipe in her magic, trying to unbend it. It moved a few millimeters with a high, metallic groan, and she sat back, tired.

“Oh, um, Twilight, I forgot to ask. How is your pastern feeling?”

“It’s perfect, Fluttershy. I can’t even tell that it was injured. You did a great job.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Twilight bent another pipe, snapping it into place with some effort. She heaved a breath and looked out the window. It was getting close to noon.

“I wonder how the spa is doing,” Fluttershy said. “Oh, I hope Aloe and Lotus are okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Twilight said absently. She was too busy figuring out her next course of action to pay much attention to Fluttershy’s worrying.

“They’re both so nice. I would hate to think of what might have happened to them.”

“They’re probably just shaken up.”

“Oh, I hope that’s all it is. Twilight, I know we’re busy, but do you think we can see them later today?”

Twilight grunted, tugging at a pipe again. It moved only slightly. “Sure, why not?” she said halfheartedly.

“Oh, thank you, Twilight.”

Twilight didn’t respond, and for the next hour, they worked without speaking, Fluttershy scraping at the bathtub’s hole and Twilight moving the sink’s pipes by inches. It was monotonous, boring work, and there was nothing to divert them.

Below, Rainbow and Pinkie worked on sanding the banister while Applejack searched for any broken glass the Cakes had missed. It wasn’t long before someone knocked on the door, and they all looked at each other unhappily, expecting a crowd of ponies to burst in. Instead, there was only one nervous-looking pegasus, asking for Rainbow. Rainbow recognized her: Cloudchaser, from her weather team. A low-level worker. Happy for a reason to abandon her work, she went with her, leaving Pinkie and Applejack alone.

They flew out and over the restored town, over the crowded center where the mayor was doing her best to explain things, over the farm, and up toward Cloudsdale. Cloudchaser spoke all the way, and what she had to say was not good. Reports of uncontrolled storms all over Equestria, rogue cloud fronts, lost shipments, and spontaneously-forming weather systems. The weather teams had no idea how to handle the sudden upset, and so the weather was largely left to govern itself.

The Cloudsdale bureaucracy had only received a basic overview from Celestia, the same one she had sent to every town, and they wanted Rainbow—the only weather pony who had seen the decisive part of the battle—to explain everything in more detail. There was to be a press conference in about an hour, something Cloudchaser only mentioned as they landed in the city.

“What? A press conference? Who’s all gonna be there?” Rainbow asked, alarmed.

“Um, everyone,” Cloudchaser said sheepishly.

“Everyone?”

“The whole Cloudsdale government’s there, Dash.”

“You didn’t think it might be nice to tell me this a bit earlier?”

“Sorry.”

Mrs. Cake came up to check on Twilight and Fluttershy an hour later. Twilight lay on her back by a mostly restored snarl of plumbing, and Fluttershy sat and watched the epoxy cure. She told them to take a break, and they went down to the ground floor to find Pinkie and Rarity sitting at a table. As soon as she was done cleaning up, Applejack had gone to go help her family at the farm, and Pinkie finished everything else alone. They ate a small lunch of dry food from the Cakes’ pantry, and Pinkie went with them up to the bathroom when they were done; she put the last few pipes in place for Twilight, who only lay down appreciatively.

Mr. Cake came down a few minutes later, covered in dust. “Oh, are you finished?”

“Sure are! The pipes are all better!” Pinkie cried.

“Well, that’s excellent news.” He wiped his brow, and Rarity came in, also filthy and spotted with spackle. “We just finished up here. Why don’t we turn on the water and see if everything’s okay?”

“Sounds good to me!” Pinkie said, bolting out the door, Mr. Cake following her.

“Something just occurred to me,” Rarity said, turning slowly to follow. “The ground being split like it was would have destroyed any sort of underground water or sewage system. Do you think Pinkie’s spell fixed that?”

“That is a good question,” Twilight said.

“What do we have underground?” Fluttershy asked.

Twilight thought as they descended the stairs. “We have a rudimentary sewer system, I know. I think it leads into Canterlot.”

Rarity made a disgusted noise. “Probably not at the moment.”

“Yes, probably not. We’re going to have to use outhouses for a while.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to think about that.”

“And we draw water from the river nearby,” Twilight continued. “Those pipes are probably destroyed too.”

“It’s oo-oon!” Pinkie cheered, running back up the stairs.

They turned at their foot and followed her, and stood back as she went to the sink. The Cakes stood by, watching expectantly.

Pinkie gestured at the sink sweepingly. “Fillies and gentlecolts, I present to you the bathroom sink! A fine contraption if I say so myself, this will enable you to wash your hooves whenever you want, all with just a twist,” she put her hoof on the knob, “of the knob!” She turned it with a flourish, and they watched as a small stream of water poured forth, then slowed down to a trickle, then a drip, then stopped.

“What? What’s wrong?” Twilight asked.

Pinkie tapped the faucet. “Are you sure you fixed the plumbing here, Twilight?”

“Yes, Pinkie. I think the underground pipes are still ruined. Rarity and I were just talking about it.”

“Oooooooooh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Mr. Cake said. “If Twilight’s right, then we’re not the only ones who can’t get water.”

“Maybe we should ask the mayor,” Mrs. Cake offered.

“If she’s not too busy,” Fluttershy said.

“We can do it,” Twilight said. “You stay here. We’ll go talk to her.”

“Sure thing,” Mr. Cake said. “We’ll just tell Rainbow Dash and Applejack where you went if they come back, okay?”

“Sounds perfect,” Twilight said, heading down the stairs once more. “Come on, girls. Let’s go.”