That night, the night of Luna’s response, and for the first time in weeks, their dreams passed without Vanilla Cream’s pollution. For many, there was finally peace. They woke the next morning to a mild rainstorm, and as they coasted over the top of the Everfree Forest, its canopy hissing in the drizzle, they were able to take in the scope of the wilderness they traversed. The forest was a fractured, dark shell under grieving clouds, and though they were a mere two days from the southern edge, the only notable aspect beyond was the misty teeth of what Twilight’s map labeled the Leaky Mountains, from which flowed Trottingham’s primary water source.

The day after, just after dinner, they passed the forest’s fuzzy, fractured borders, and, two days later, Trottingham slid into view. It was late morning when Applejack began taking them down. They crowded the ship’s front as Octavia explained the city, and it was immediately clear to her that all was not well.

“We should not be the only airship here. Trottingham is close to the center of Equestria, so it is the town through which the vast majority of intercity commerce passes. If we are alone up here, we very well may be looking at a ghost town.”

“Wait, why?” Twilight asked.

“Just look at it.”

On their side of the Leaky Mountains, Trottingham was nestled in a hilly, sun kissed dale, cut off from the sylvan wilderness behind them and straddling an expansive trough of desert. The town was mostly farmland, divided into pastel patches by dusty roads and small rows of squat buildings, and hemmed by gentle, light brown ridges of earth, cracked like eggshell in the sun. A system of dark, stone vines clung to the shredded mountains to the north—the remnants of the aqueducts—and extended into the town in broken segments, standing atop, or lying beside, black stone pillars breaking through the empty spaces. No water shimmered anywhere, and no ponies colored the streets. No smoke uncoiled in the air.

Compared to the glittering metropolis of Manehattan and the pillared majesty of Cloudsdale, Trottingham was a depressed basin of small, stout buildings. No specific structure stood out from the rest of them; each slatted roof looked identical to its neighbor, and with no ponies and only a smattering of inert cars to indicate population details, the town was nothing but a hollowed out relic. Only the villa, the vineyard, and the aqueducts gave color to the dull brown and green city.

“These aqueducts have been destroyed,” Octavia said. “I would not be surprised if there is no one left.”

“So what do we do?” Fluttershy asked.

“I think we should land anyway,” Rarity said. “Maybe if we can restore this area, ponies will come back.”

“It’s worth a try,” Twilight said.

“Where?” Applejack asked.

“Near the mountainside,” Octavia said. “If anypony is still around, they should be there.”

They slowly cruised over the desolate town, passing over a large, hilly area speckled with buildings and large patches of dark green, and bordered on one side by a small settlement of tents; the vineyard, Octavia said. She pointed to the other side of town, where a single, massive building sat behind a large, green grid. “That is Astra Villa. It has been owned and operated by the same family for generations.” She squinted at it. “I played a show there once. The family is not particularly friendly, but they liked me well enough.”

“Gee, who’da thunk?” Rainbow said.

“Very funny.”

There was a pause as they rumbled over the silent spread of buildings. “This place is a lot smaller than Manehattan,” Pinkie said.

“Many towns are,” Octavia said idly. “How many spells do you think you will need to cast, Twilight?”

“I think two might be able to do it,” Twilight said slowly. “One on each corner. That villa and the vineyard look about best, in terms of vantage points.”

“What about the aqueducts?” Pinkie asked.

“I don’t know, Pinkie. Those look really complicated.”

“I do not want to come across as needlessly negative, but fixing the aqueducts will be of little help if the river that feeds them is still inaccessible,” Octavia said. “And that will lead us deeper into the mountains. I do not think that we should do it.”

“It’s not like anyone’s even around to go thirsty,” Rainbow said, looking over the edge. “Seriously, I haven’t seen one pony yet.”

“There were tents by the vineyard,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah, but no ponies.”

“Then that’ll make our jobs that much easier, won’t it?” Applejack said. They were heading down toward the mountain’s foot, toward a small, gray curve of tiny houses, built into a stone face. A cracked slab of concrete sat nearby, hanging over an overgrown slope to a gravelly ravine.

“Oh!” Rarity cried, jumping up a little.

“What’s wrong, Rarity?” Twilight asked.

“Nothing, dear. I just remembered something. Hang on.” She sat down, closed her eyes, and lit her horn. Her brows knit in mild focus.

“What’cha doin’?” Pinkie asked.

“Searching for Elements,” she said shortly. She was quiet for a moment, and her face creased up, as if suddenly concerned. She opened her eyes and looked around, then closed them again. “I feel something,” she said at last, stifling a giggle of excitement.

“You do? Are you sure?” Twilight asked.

“Very sure. It’s not a subtle feeling, darling.”

“What does it feel like?” Rainbow asked.

“It’s like someone has a string around my horn and is tugging at it.” She opened her eyes and looked around again. “And they’re tugging it up there.” She pointed into the snarled nest of ruined aqueducts.

“Well, we’re right here,” Applejack said. “May as well get it first. Now, yer absolutely sure, right?”

“Absolutely,” Rarity said. She looked at Pinkie and Fluttershy. “It’s a very good spell. Easy, too.”

Fluttershy blushed and looked away, but Pinkie gave a cheer as they touched down on the landing pad. They got off the ship and stepped onto the stone road connected to the airship lot, and for a while, walked around, stretched, and tested the ground beneath their hooves. They had been on the same wooden deck for six days.

They were only a quarter of the way up the mountain, but from their height, the city looked even emptier. From directly above, its size was reduced to a dimensionless square of rich browns and greens, like a photograph, but on the mountainside, each individual house and barn created a point of texture in the vast panorama. The air was clear under white smears of cloud, and the entire scene was still. Wooden buildings stood, dignified and fading in the sun, presiding over withering crops and untrodden streets. Not a single flash of reflected light hit them, not a single shadow moved. No wind stirred the dust at their hooves, and even the birds were gone.

From their vantage point, only one mountain was at the front, the others behind it and separated like jagged teeth. Rough, stone structures stuck out like gnarled tree roots, grasping empty air tens of feet out, where their other halves had snapped off. Moss and lichen grew on the bottoms, and suspended in the tangle, closer to the mountain, they could see large cylinders, some cracked open and others whole, like swollen fruit. On the mountain’s shoulder, underneath a small overhang of tight waterways, there rested a collection of huts, just as lifeless as the rest of the city. “Let’s see if there’s anyone up there first,” Twilight said.

They walked up a narrow road, winding along the mountainside and through the curved shadows of the cracked aqueducts. Up close, the damage was even more severe. Not a single drop of water darkened the rough-hewn stone, scabbed over with dried fungus and cracked perilously along bends and junctions. The supporting pillars had fared little better, some tilted dangerously to one side, others splintered toward the top, others merely crowned with shattered debris where their loads had collapsed. Their shadows fingered the road they traversed, and no one spoke. Having known, but never yet seen, the damage that had been done to the world, there was nothing to say.

The mountain road led upwards at a constant, gentle pace, and the only sound was their hooves plodding along, kicking gravel or shuffling dust up and back. Bushes and small trees surrounded the path, dry and unassuming, some with colorful crusts of dead flowers on the ground around them. A black arch of stone stood in the distance, and as they made their way to it, the first sound of music reached them on a light breeze.

When they passed under the arch, a weathered crest of two ponies on its keystone, they walked down a wide side street into a small park, a welcome break from going uphill. The music was louder, and they scanned the park slowly, looking for the source; they saw it sitting at a picnic table, shaded by a cluster of trees. She was a short, light lavender unicorn with a wild, silver and sky blue mane that framed her small head like a tangle of leaves; her eyes were closed as she held a flute in her forehooves, her horn alight, controlling the instrument. She was alone.

The music she produced was light and airy, but slow, and not joyful, and she played with only the barest hint of a smile on her face. It colored the empty air eerily, so out of place, but so enchanting, that it brought them with it; as they watched her play, it seemed they were fading out of the park. She was the first real pony they had seen, aside from each other, since Cloudsdale, and her presence aroused their excitement more than their suspicion.

Up close, they could see nests of wrinkles under her eyes and around her mouth. Her fur looked thin, and her mane was tarnished with tiny slivers of gray. When she finished, she opened her eyes and smiled peacefully at them. “Well, hello there.” Her voice was clear and youthful.

“You’re the first pony we’ve seen in town,” Rarity said simply.

She nodded. “There aren’t many of us left here. Up the mountain a ways, there’s a small settlement. I think the rest of the town’s abandoned, though. Nearly, at least.”

“I take it you can still access water up there?” Octavia asked.

“There’s a couple small ground springs up in some old mines, plus the water in the reservoirs.”

“Reservoirs?” Applejack said.

“The large tanks amongst the aqueducts.”

“Ah.”

She stood up and stretched, her joints popping as she did so. “I wasn’t expecting you all to visit.”

“You recognize us?” Rainbow asked.

“How could I not? You’re the Elements of Harmony.” She eyed Octavia. “You look familiar too. A friend of theirs?”

“Bestest friends forever!” Pinkie cried, slinging a hoof around Octavia’s neck.

“Why would you not expect us?” Twilight asked.

“Trottingham is dead. I assumed you’d see that and just pass us by.”

“We… considered it,” Applejack said. “But there’s somethin’ we need here. Up there, actually.”

“Up the mountain?”

“In the aqueducts,” Octavia said, peeling Pinkie off her.

“Hm. That could be a problem.”

“They look awful.”

“Oh, dear, they are. Ponies don’t go up into them beyond the reservoirs anymore.”

“I can see why.”

“What can you tell us about the rest of the town?” Rarity asked.

“Nothing. I haven’t been down there in more than a month.”

“So, what, you just sit here and play the flute all day?” Rainbow asked.

“I watch for airships,” she said. “And also scare away any parasprites that come by. But I like to bring my flute along, yes.”

“Why do you watch for airships?” Octavia asked.

She sighed. “I don’t really know. It’s something to do.”

“And you have a settlement along the mountain?” Rarity asked.

“Yes. Walk with me?” They followed her out of the park and back up the road. Near a place where the mountain slope curved inward, they could see the settlement more clearly. The huts were small and spaced far apart, and composed mostly of tree branches and pieces of stone.

“Doesn’t look like a very big settlement,” Rainbow said.

“There’s less than a hundred of us. We tried to start a new town, kind of halfheartedly, in my opinion. But what’s the point? We have water, and there’s enough food in town that we can have ponies gathering it without much trouble. We just have to hope the monster down there doesn’t decide to come up.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Rainbow said. “Stop right there. Nopony said anything about a monster.”

“I am not entirely surprised,” Octavia mumbled.

The mare nodded. “It’s been around the vineyard. We hope it stays there.”

“The vineyard. That’s where we need to go,” Rarity said.

“Well, if anyone is qualified to do something about it, it’s you.”

“What can you tell us about it?”

“Aside from that it’s huge? Not a lot. None of us have seen it up close.”

“Sounds awesome,” Rainbow said drily.

“At least it’ll be all of us this time,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, good one, AJ.”

“You’re going to try to fight it?” the mare asked.

“That’s what we do!” Pinkie said.

She didn’t comment, and led them up the mountain silently. The quiet pressed in on them, and even close enough to see the windows in the huts, it seemed the entire city was shrouded in a damp blanket of melancholy. They walked through a small, dilapidated fence, its posts stuck in cracks in the rock, a welcome sign hanging rakishly off one picket. The structures before them were small, graying, inexpertly built sheds with oblong windows and jagged doors. The air smelled lightly of cooked vegetables, and the quiet chatter of ponies surrounded them.

“This is our settlement. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It looks pretty good, for something you just threw together,” Twilight said. “Uh, that kind of came out wrong.”

“You’re fine, dear.” She turned on Octavia. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Octavia Melody,” she said, inclining her head.

“The musician?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Pleased to meet you. My name is Sandoz.”

“Ooh, that’s a neat name. Is it old-Equestrian?” Twilight asked.

“Yes, actually. It means ‘teacher’.”

“Teacher of what?” Pinkie asked.

“Nothing specific. Just ‘teacher’.”

“So,” Rarity pressed, tapping the ground with a hoof, “ponies don’t go up into the aqueducts.”

“Well, they’re broken apart a great deal,” Sandoz said. She walked them to a tiny, spherical shell of overgrowth and pulled the door open. “Care to come in for some tea?”

“That sounds heavenly,” Rarity said, taking the lead into her house. The interior was cramped, but cozy and warm, and Rainbow settled down on a large, chintz couch while Sandoz dug some saucers and cups out of a burlap sack in the corner.

“You’ll have to forgive the disarray. I’m not a homemaker.”

“You live alone?” Fluttershy asked timidly.

“Yes. I’m very close with my neighbors, but I like my space.” She went to a small, gas-powered stove and placed a kettle on it. “Yes, the aqueducts are ruined. If you need to go up in there, you have your work cut out for you. How deep will you be going?”

They looked at Rarity, who let her horn glow for a moment. “It’s difficult to say. It certainly isn’t close.”

“How deep do they go?” Applejack asked.

“Fairly deep. The aqueducts themselves are built on a bunch of ancient ruins. I know those go into the mountain interior, but I only went there once, when I was young. I wouldn’t know what to expect now.”

“I bet I can guess where we need to go,” Rainbow said.

“Is there anything dangerous in the ruins?” Octavia asked.

“No one’s seen anything.” She set the tiny dining table with their cups and napkins, and they sat around it on stones. “Been in town long?”

“We landed earlier today,” Twilight said.

“I see. I wish I could give you a warmer welcome than this, but…”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Rarity said, picking at a spot on the table. “If I’m honest, it’s actually rather nice to be somewhere like this. We just want to get in, do our spells, and get out. No funny business.”

“Spells?”

“To restore the ground,” Octavia said.

“Ah, yes.”

“We came outta the big city a while ago,” Applejack said.

The teakettle whistled, and Sandoz poured it out for them. “So you’d rather be somewhere rural for a while.”

“Exactly,” Rarity said.

“Where are we gonna stay, though?” Rainbow asked. She flicked her eyes to Sandoz, who smiled.

“Don’t look at me. I’m sorry, but there’s no room.”

“We can just take an abandoned house in the city,” Rarity said, and Rainbow looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “What?”

“Not the kind of suggestion you’d usually make,” Applejack said.

“Perhaps not. But it makes perfect sense.”

“Ah ain’t questionin’ that, Rare.”

“So what are you gonna do when your reservoirs run out?” Pinkie asked.

Sandoz didn’t hesitate. “Move deeper into the mountains. Follow the water, repair the aqueducts if we can. Don’t worry about us. Trottingham folk are hardy.”

“What kind of crops do y’all grow here?” Applejack asked.

“Everything.” She shrugged. “Well, the usual stuff. Wheat, alfalfa, fruits and vegetables. Grapes on the vineyard, of course.”

“And monsters, apparently,” Rainbow said.

“Yes, and monsters.”

“Do you know when it appeared?” Octavia asked.

Sandoz sipped her tea and shook her head. “No, no. After everyone left, I’d assume. That’s when we first saw it.”

“And you say it’s huge,” Twilight said.

“Big enough you can see it from here, if it’s not blocked by something.”

“I hope we don’t have to fight it,” Fluttershy said.

“You know we will,” Rainbow said.

“Not necessarily. Those tents could be more policeponies,” Twilight said.

“Ah sure hope so,” Applejack said. “An’ this time—”

“We get it, AJ,” Rainbow said, her voice a little raised.

The table was quiet, and Rarity cleared her throat. “Lovely tea, Sandoz, darling.”

“Thank you. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

They finished quickly and stood, and Octavia cracked the door to look outside.

“We should probably be heading out,” Twilight said. “I’d like to get that vineyard taken care of before nightfall.”

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Do you know of anypony that can lead us through the aqueducts?” Octavia asked. “Or at least point us in the right direction?”

“Let me think,” Sandoz said. “I can lead you to the entrance we all use, and probably take you a little bit in, toward the ruins. But I can’t lose sight of town—er, this tiny town, I mean. I don’t think I know anyone who can take you where you want to go.”

“We’ll make do,” Applejack said.

“I’d be happy to lead you to the entrance, though. When were you thinking of going?”

“As soon as possible,” Twilight said. “Would tomorrow be okay?”

“Sure. Come on by any time. I’ll be watching for you.”

“We will do our best to come early,” Octavia said. “I do not want the sun to go down before we get out of there.”

“Yeah, good point,” Rainbow said.

They thanked her for the tea and hospitality, and then left her hovel and descended the mountain road. The sun was high and the sky was cloudless, and by the time they had reached the ship, some of them had broken into a light sweat. They ate a modest lunch on the deck as they flew back over Trottingham.

The vineyard occupied the northeastern corner of town, covering a large hilly area that was angled perfectly to catch the majority of the sunshine. The sloping ground was furrowed and decorated with fluffy, green lines of grape vines, extending all the way across the massive, sun-kissed area in unbroken lines. A trio of buildings sat at the hill’s bottom; one lay separate on the other side of a chasm, connected to its neighbors only by a ramshackle bridge. Outside, a colorful gathering of tents waited, pennants hanging loosely, and dots of ponies moving among them.

They landed on a flat, dusty plain beside the outermost tents. The ponies among them were faded with dust and dirt, and looked at them with cautious eyes as they approached. A single mare stood out from the crowd, walking with ease and authority, parting the others just by her presence. She had a healthy brown coat and a thick, dark blue and red marbled mane that shined like a polished stone in the golden light. She was large, but stout, and her muzzle was lightly flecked with freckles. Clusters of grapes adorned her flanks.

She surveyed them quickly with a sharp expression before speaking, her voice like a reedy whip crack in the motionless air. “Who are you?”

“Elements of Harmony, here to handle your monster problem,” Rainbow said.

She narrowed her eyes at them all, lingering on Octavia. “And you’re a friend of theirs, I take it?”

“Yes,” Octavia said.

“Well, my name’s Vintage; I own this vineyard. Have for five years now.”

“What’s with the tents?” Rainbow asked.

“These are my employees, those that remained. We wanted to set up camp somewhere farther from here, but this is where the water is. I guess you already know about the monster.” She looked back at the tents, where a few ponies had stopped to watch them converse. Seeing her watching them, they hastily returned to their own affairs. “We’re stuck between the two right now.” She looked at each of them, making eye contact before looking at the next mare. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter and softer. “If you can actually do something about it, we would be very appreciative. I would be appreciative.”

“See, Applejack? This time, they need us.”

“Lay off, Rainbow,” Applejack grumbled.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. Not without an apology.”

“Settle down, you two,” Octavia said. “What can you tell us about it?”

“And I want it nice and drawn out,” Rainbow continued quietly.

“Ah said lay off, RD,” Applejack snapped.

“Stop it!” Octavia barked. “Your attention is needed here.” She turned back to Vintage. “My apologies. There is some unresolved business with some of us.”

Vintage snorted. “I can see that.” She looked at Rainbow and Applejack. “Can you listen to me now?”

“Yes,” Rainbow said sulkily.

“I myself haven’t seen it, but some of my workers have. They’ve been calling it a barrel golem.”

“That doesn’t sound very good,” Twilight said.

“Do you always interrupt ponies when they’re giving you information?”

Twilight blushed hotly, but then looked down and pawed the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you wanna try being a little nicer?” Rainbow asked. “We didn’t ask to come and save your flanks from some stupid monster.”

“Be quiet!” Rarity said. “Let’s just hear what Vintage has to say. Please.”

“As I was saying,” Vintage continued loudly, “it’s about twenty feet tall, give or take two or three, and composed entirely of barrels. My barrels, I believe. They’re formed in the rough shape of a pony.” She sighed. “And that’s all I know. No one has tried to chase it away that I know of, let alone fight it. As much as I want it off my property, I’m hesitant to harm it—since it’s made up of my belongings.”

“Barrels ain’t that expensive,” Applejack said.

“I only replaced them a couple months ago, though. They’re still good.”

“Not if they’re part of a golem!” Pinkie said, giggling. “A barrel golem!”

“It sounds funny when Pinkie says it,” Rainbow whispered to Fluttershy, who nodded.

“Yes, I know,” Vintage said. “Well, as I said, if you can do something about it, we would all be in your debt.”

“Ah don’t see that we got a choice,” Applejack said. “We gotta cast our spell up there too.”

“What spell?”

“Restorin’ the ground.”

“Oh, you’re doing that too? I would have thought the princesses would take charge of it.”

“One might think,” Octavia said.

Vintage considered for a time, looking at Twilight carefully. “As long as you know what you’re doing, go for it,” she finally said. “My vineyard was actually quite fortunate. We only have one split, close to the northeast corner.”

“Don’t worry, Vintage. We’ve done this several times,” Twilight said.

“Have at it, then.” She turned to indicate the three buildings behind the tents. “Those are my work buildings. Crushing, pressing, and bottling. Don’t worry about them.”

“What about storage?” Rarity asked.

“That’s across the vineyard.”

“You’re not thinking of having any wine here, are you?” Rainbow asked.

“No,” Rarity said. “I was just curious.” She flipped her mane indignantly and took a step past Vintage. “Shall we?”

“I won’t be going with you, if that’s what you’re saying,” Vintage said. “But you’re welcome to head in whenever you want.”

They hesitated for just a moment, and then passed her and walked through the tents. The ponies watched them from a distance, too shy to offer words of encouragement or advice, and when they came to the short fence around the vineyard’s outer edge, they had put the small camp well behind them.

They entered through a sagging gate, coated in faded whitewash, and crossed the bridge with some hesitation. It swayed uncomfortably as they went over it, its ropes fraying slightly where they were tied to their posts. They passed the buildings into identical rows of overripe, shriveling grapes, where they stood, ears cocked and noses to the wind. No sound reached them, save for the chirping of birds and the light shuffle of ponies behind them.

They walked down the row of grapes, slowly, looking from side to side at every break in the vines. “This place is really sufferin’,” Applejack said, examining a dried vine with a look of pity on her face.

“You ever grow grapes, Applejack?” Pinkie asked.

“Nope, but there was a family of farmers that stopped in Ponyville fer a few months who did. That was before you came along, Twi.”

“Oh, I think I remember them,” Rarity said. “The… what was their name? The Black Leaves, or something?”

“Vines, Rarity. The Black Vines. Nice ponies, mostly.”

“Mostly?” Twilight said.

“Well, every harvest has its bad fruits, an’ every family has its bad ponies,” Applejack said.

“What happened to them?”

“Packed up an’ left after a while. Ponyville just ain’t good fer growin’ grapes. Not quite enough sunlight.”

“Did they ever make any wine?”

“Ah dunno, maybe.”

“I heard they only made a hundred or so bottles before stopping,” Rarity said.

“Is there any left?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, darling, I have no idea.”

“Ah bet if there is, it’s darned expensive,” Applejack said.

“Not at all like this Trottingham vintage,” Rarity said.

“What do you know about wine?” Rainbow said.

“I’ll have you know that I am a connoisseur of sorts, and have tasted wines from all over Equestria. And I’m sorry to say, but this wine is hardly anything worth mentioning.”

“But the grapes are so tasty!” Pinkie said.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Rarity said. “The wine is sweet, but has no contrast, and no body; it’s like fruit punch. It doesn’t go with anything, except perhaps candy.”

“What wines do you like, Rarity?” Octavia asked.

“Well, I’m rather partial to the southern wines. For instance, there’s a little winery just on the border between Equestria and the minotaur lands that produces the most divine Sangiovese. Shipping it all the way to Ponyville is rather expensive, but, I assure you, it is worth every bit.”

“I have never been a fan of southern wines. Have you tried anything from near the coast?”

“Ugh, coast wines, stored in cellars below sea level? Every single wine I’ve had from that area is hardly more flavorful than vinegar.”

“You clearly have not had quality wines, then. I advise you try the Goldbreast Malbec; it is made by griffons.”

“On the coast?”

“Near it. They are, I believe, a few miles northeast of Hoofington.”

“I’ve heard griffon wines are too bitter for pony consumption,” Rarity said.

“That is completely untrue. They are very bitter, yes, but it is not enough to put one off her palate. I very much prefer bitter wines, though.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All wines are bitter,” Rainbow said from above.

Rarity laughed loudly, and a bird flew out of a nearby bush, startled. “Sorry, darling; I don’t mean to sound condescending, but you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Wine is an acquired taste,” Octavia said.

“Pfft. If I drank rainbows every day of my life, I’d say the same thing,” Rainbow said.

“Wouldn’t that be spicy, though?” Pinkie asked.

“That’s the point. It’s… never mind. Look, we’re almost to the top of this hill.”

They stepped over a small divot in the ground and spread out over the clear hilltop, looking over the vineyard for any signs of Vintage’s monster. “So do we go chasing after it, or what?” Pinkie asked.

“I don’t see it anywhere,” Rarity said.

“Maybe we should knock our spell out first,” Rainbow said.

“And risk that thing getting the drop on us?” Twilight asked.

“We’ll be watching for it.”

“We could be traipsing through these rows of grapes all day before finding it,” Rarity said. “You and Pinkie go ahead. We’ll watch for it, and if it gets too close, you can just stop. You can just stop, right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Twilight said. She took a moment to look around, and when she began clearing away the errant weeds and bits of stone, the others crowded around the sides to look down into the vineyard. The furrows of grapes spread out from their position like links in a chain, all facing the sun so they could absorb it at its greatest intensity. They looked down and out, into the distance to try to catch a glimpse of the golem, but saw little amid the shadows on the ground.

For a while, the only sign of life on their lonely hill was the swishing of Twilight’s brush and Pinkie’s quiet steps as she shifted her weight. Even for her, it had become routine; it wasn’t long ago that waiting for Twilight to draw the sigil was enough to provoke a sigh or a moan, or a quiet song under her breath to pass the time.

“So, this an’ the villa,” Applejack said.

“That is what Twilight said,” Octavia said.

“You said you performed there once?” Rarity asked.

“Yes. Several years ago, I and three others. We performed at a garden party for the Astra family.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that name before,” Rainbow said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Rarity said. “They’re only one of the wealthiest families in Equestria.”

“Ah haven’t heard of ‘em,” Applejack said.

“Well, you—er, us—Ponyville folk have little business in the affairs of the rest of the world.”

“So what’s so great about these villa ponies?” Rainbow asked.

“They are an old bloodline, and, as I said, very wealthy,” Octavia said. “I do not know how they initially got their money, but now, they are very heavily involved in magically-animated objects. The statues around the villa, I know, can come to life when their masters want them to.”

“Living statues?” Rarity said. “I haven’t heard that.”

“They act as defense for the villa. Against what, I have no idea, but the Astras created them themselves.”

“That’s freaking awesome,” Rainbow said. “Do you think they’ll let us see ‘em when we go over there?”

“I am not certain that they will even let us in. They are not very open to strangers.”

“Even us?” Fluttershy asked.

“I do not know. Perhaps they will be friendly, perhaps not.”

“You said they liked you, did you not?” Rarity asked.

“Yes, but my ensemble and I were invited.”

“If they see you again, maybe they’ll let us all in,” Applejack said.

“They liked me, but I did not say that we were friends. They might not even remember me.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sure they do.”

“We’ll see soon enough,” Applejack said.

They stopped talking and refocused their gazes on the vineyard. Knotted ropes of dark green foliage corrugated the dry earth, split in the distance in a wide line that cut into the mountains and streaked past, but there were no signs of their golem. Spotted throughout the vineyard were dark blotches of buildings—employee quarters, they assumed. Octavia’s thoughts were on the villa, and the family that lived within. She remembered her performance well. The quietly dignified Astras, each dressed in sharp, black dresses and suits, nodding politely to the local movers and shakers as they were guided into the vast, manicured lawn. The animated statue, joints grumbling with each movement, bringing her a drink. Shaking hooves with the severe matriarch, her silver eyes shining like moons in the autumn evening.

“Um, is it just me, or are those grapevines trampled?” Fluttershy asked, pointing at a patch of dark green near the hill’s bottom.

“Uh, maybe,” Rainbow said. She squinted. “Yeah, no, it’s too far. I can’t tell.”

“There is something I don’t understand about all this,” Rarity said. “Last time Discord was released, he didn’t do anything like this. He just played around until we sealed him away. I know he’s a massive threat right now, but surely we would have seen some of that last time.”

“Maybe last time he just wanted to have fun,” Fluttershy said, her voice hopeful.

“But he’s the spirit of chaos; he’s always in the mood fer fun,” Applejack said.

“Perhaps last time, he was merely testing Princess Celestia’s defenses,” Octavia said.

“But that would mean he knew he would get out again soon,” Rainbow said.

“Perhaps he did.”

“I don’t see how he possibly could,” Rarity said.

“How did he get out again, anyway?” Applejack asked.

“No idea,” Rainbow said. “I don’t think even Celestia knows for sure.”

“I think I see something,” Rarity said sharply, immediately quieting them as they looked in the direction she indicated. “Down there; the rows are sort of shuffling.”

“Oh yeah, there’s somethin’ there, all right,” Applejack said. The clusters of grapevines were moving to and fro near the opposite end of the vineyard, by a large shack.

“How tall did Vintage say this thing is?” Rainbow asked. “Like twenty feet, right?”

“Twenty or more,” Rarity said, shielding her eyes. “But I don’t see anything for certain yet. The ground is too dark.”

They looked back at Twilight, who was nearing the halfway point for her sigil. A few birds flew overhead, and the ground was warm on their hooves.