“See anything?” Rainbow asked.

The sigil was three quarters done, and tensions were high; shortly after dismissing Rarity’s sighting, things became still. Too still, Rainbow thought.

“Ah don’t see anythin’,” Applejack said.

Rainbow ruffled her wings in the warm air and tried to stand taller. “I’m gonna check this out from above.”

“Be careful,” Fluttershy said quietly, and Rainbow took off.

She flew a tight circle around the hilltop, looking down on its slopes; on the first pass, she saw nothing except the endless blotches of grapevines, but on the second, she stopped to watch a darker shadow near a hexagon of shacks in the far distance. She quickly landed and went to the edge of the hill, trying to find it again. “It’s out there, somewhere,” she said, pointing.

They watched for several minutes, the silence and stillness painful on their eyes, and slowly, a thick shadow rose over a line of dark green vines. With it, they could hear footsteps: heavy, wet sounds, like mud squishing. The ground trembled with each step.

“Hurry up, Twilight; that thing’s on its way,” Rainbow said, looking back at the sigil.

“Rainbow, get back in the air and track it,” Rarity said.

Rainbow grunted as she took off, eyes darting from row to row as she relocated the golem. From her height, she could see its dark form swaying back and forth as it stomped up the hill, but made out no details. The small circle of buildings was far behind it, empty and brooding in the unreal afternoon.

She flew closer to the ground, turning slowly around to face the golem from behind. As she neared, she saw its individual pieces, hundreds of single barrels loosely stuck together with magic she knew had to be beyond even Twilight’s capabilities. Dull brown mounds stacked on one another, they seemed to ebb and flow across the beast’s back as it moved uphill, occasional metal hoops catching the light like tiny flashes of carapace. A mesmerizing sea of fat, full barrels, endlessly bumping and rolling together, and accompanied by a heavy, powerful thud with each step it took. She thought she could see its prints in the ground behind it.

Raising her head from the golem quickly to check her friends, she saw them still staring, apparently transfixed. She flew back as quickly as she could, passing over the barrels in its head with a fearful burst of speed, lest it notice her. She landed again and turned immediately to Twilight, nearly finished. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated.

“But she’s almost done!” She looked behind, and saw the beginnings of the brown monster appearing over the rails of grapevines. Her friends backed up slowly, and Octavia turned toward Twilight. “No, you don’t get this one,” she thought competitively, and let her voice snap as she spoke. “Twilight, it’s here.”

Twilight froze momentarily, her eyes glazed over, and the earth trembled powerfully. Her brush was motionless over the ground, only a small section of sigil left to finish. Rainbow looked back rapidly; the golem’s head and chest were visible on the hillside.

“Twilight, Pinkie, get ready!” Octavia commanded, approaching. Her voice was stern, but her face was not; Rainbow saw fear in it.

The golem took another step, and its lifeless head blotted out the sun. One massive, splintered and wine-stained hoof crushed a small bush on the edge of the hilltop, and the whole construction was over them, twenty feet of groaning, sloshing darkness, grandiose and fearsome.

Pinkie darted to the side, and Twilight exhaled and coughed weakly, slumping over herself. Rarity and the others raced from their positions, caught in the impulse of escape, lost on Rainbow, who was too far from the monster to do anything but freeze. Octavia slowly turned toward it, but there was no confidence in her movement, and Rainbow only watched, trembling. It wasn’t Discord, with his chatter and laughter, nor was it Spring-hoof Jack, with his sudden, fast appearances that ultimately did no more than terrify. She stepped back involuntarily as it stepped forward, bringing another hoof up to meet its partner on the hilltop.

Behind her, a set of hooves galloped to meet them, and a pea green stallion jumped into the middle of the panicking crowd. “Hurry, get out of here!” he commanded, but no one responded. Twilight stood, blinking slowly and impotently, while Pinkie gawked, her face frozen in a comical imitation of a silent scream. Rarity and Fluttershy had retreated to the back, while Applejack stood with Octavia, just beside the stranger, but doing nothing.

One more step, and the stranger raced forward. The ground quaked gently, and Rainbow smelled the heady tang of vinegar on the air. Her initial, paralyzing fear was slowly washing away, and she took a tentative step forward. Her eyes were fixed on their sudden ally, rushing headlong at the tremendous structure. As he came up to its leg, he swiveled quickly to plant a resounding kick on one of the casks, splitting it open and soaking the ground with dark red wine.

As he reeled back, slipping slightly in the mud, Rainbow blinked. She felt stupid, suddenly, standing by yet again in the face of danger. She shook her head and opened her wings. “C’mon!” she cried, taking to the air. Fluttershy cried out behind her, and she lunged at the golem. Below, the stallion broke another barrel while Pinkie babbled and Octavia called for order, and she realized, with sickening rapidity, that she had no idea what she was doing. Raising her forelegs instinctively, she slammed into a pair of barrels around its neck, deflecting off of them and spiraling gracelessly to the ground, landing on her back and forcing the air from her lungs.

As she tried to regain her hooves, she saw Octavia take a confident step to the golem, her brows knit. Before she could prepare for the sound, a thunderous explosion burst from high above, and from her spot on the ground, the sun caught the spray of barrel fragments and wine in a momentary web of viscera before it splattered the ground, sending up small clouds of dust and leaves.

As Octavia hopped back quickly, eyes racing to find another spot for her spell, Applejack ran forward to buck at its hoof, as the stranger had; one cracked open and spilled its contents on her, and she backed away, sputtering and coughing.

The stallion came forward once more to continue attacking the barrels, and Rainbow pushed herself up. With one more deep breath to steady her nerves, she took flight, angling herself toward the remnants of its shattered head. More barrels cracked beneath her, and she grabbed at the edge of one broken cask, trying to yank it free and help the fight in her own meager way.

“Rainbow, move!” Octavia shouted, and the pegasus swiftly dodged over the shell of its head and toward its front; another explosion filled the air behind her, pushing her out roughly, and another shower of splinters and wine cascaded onto the small scene.

“Watch out!” someone cried. She didn’t turn to see, but dipped quickly out of the way, her flight school training kicking in. Don’t look, just move; she had learned it several times. A barrel hurtled past her to split on the ground, sending its metal rings flying like rewards while wine flashed against Octavia’s face and chest.

She landed and rushed to Octavia, who backed away clumsily, coughing and trying to wipe at her eyes. Only the green stallion remained, still fervently kicking at its hooves, splitting barrels left and right, himself covered in wine and splinters. Rainbow looked at her friends. Pinkie was with Rarity and Fluttershy, cowering, while Twilight stood still, eyes glassy as she stared up at the headless construction.

One more step. The golem effortlessly lifted itself away from the stranger’s weak efforts, bringing its hoof down only a few feet from Twilight’s muzzle; she didn’t move, except to crane her neck higher and look into the dripping wine. Her friends called for her to run, but she didn’t respond.

The stallion raced to close the distance, and on his face, Rainbow saw dread. He looked her way quickly and kicked another couple barrels out from its leg. “Pegasus!”

It took her a moment to realize he was shouting for her, and she ran forward, into the golem’s shadow. “What?”

He broke another barrel, moving out of the way just in time to avoid a large piece flying out at him, crushed by the beast’s immense weight. “There are tarps covering the grapes downhill; grab one and bring it back, and hurry!”

“What?”

“Do it!” he ordered, turning and retreating out of the sagging, dripping area beneath the barrels.

“Okay, okay!” She flew out to its side, throwing another look at her friends. Octavia had recovered, and was squinting up at the thing’s chest, while Applejack wordlessly dragged Twilight away.

She sped down the hill, and another explosion crackled behind her. Ponies cried out, and Pinkie screamed shrilly, and Rainbow stopped at a yellowing tarp, pegged loosely to the dry earth. Grabbing it in her teeth, she tugged uselessly. She could hear the stranger’s work on the hilltop, but nothing else. Even her friends’ voices had gone quiet. She pulled once more, hurting her jaw.

“I need that tarp!” the stallion’s voice bellowed from behind, and she shouted an inarticulate curse at the simple knots that held it in place. She pulled a third time, weakly, and slumped to the ground. The fight had gone on for perhaps five minutes, but she felt exhausted and helpless, and tears beaded in her eyes as she looked back. The barrel golem looked as strong as before, motionless and menacing.

“Damn it, Dash, snap out of it! Can’t you see they need you?” She weakly struck the blanket with a hoof. “This is stupid. You can’t even hurt it.” Another set of thoughts entered her mind, and she closed her eyes, squeezing out a few tears as she did so.

One more step, one more explosion. She opened her eyes to see a frayed circlet of debris rain down. “If she can do it, so can I,” she thought angrily, facing the tarp again. “If she can do it… wait.” Her mind flashed back to their night in Canterlot. Princess Celestia opening her mind to magic, and Twilight teaching her some basic spells. She took a calming breath and called upon her memories of that night. “Telekinesis, Dash. Come on, you’ve done this before.” The blanket rippled in a breeze as she coated it with her own weak magic, and she smiled as she pulled at it, her strength not limited to her jaw, but her mind.

“I need that tarp! I need that tarp!” the stallion cried, not authoritative, but desperate. Rarity shouted something, and there was another, smaller, explosion.

Slowly, the pegs loosened from the ground, and she began a slow walk back, the white rectangle dragging behind her awkwardly. She was in a trance; she knew how to cast the spell, but had done so very few times, and knew that over-thinking it would render her abilities useless. As she moved, her eyes went to the golem’s backside. Pieces of its side were missing, though it still stood, and a green form appeared at the top of the hill briefly before galloping down to meet her.

The stallion said nothing, grabbing the tarp in his teeth and wrenching it from her, breaking her spell with a voiceless flourish. She followed him indignantly, to where Rarity and Pinkie were dragging Fluttershy, unconscious, to a safer distance. Octavia stood at an awkward angle, her flank sliced open, her delicate treble cleft bisected and bleeding.

“Hold one end and stay where you are,” he said, taking one corner of the tarp and diving between the golem’s legs. Rainbow kept her own corner tight in her mouth, her concentration for another spell shattered.

She looked up at the golem as he passed swiftly around its back hoof to rejoin her, and as she did, another thought entered her mind. “What has this thing actually done to us?”

He came back to her and yanked the tarp from her mouth, twisting the ends together and around a foreleg in a feat of dexterity that insulted her own clumsy hooves. With one quick look back at the others to make sure they were well away, he pulled, hard, and the leg started sliding out from behind the golem.

Without thinking, Rainbow joined in, grabbing at the tarp with her sore teeth and adding her own weight to the effort. It did little. The stallion yanked again, jostling her jaw, and she looked unhappily at Octavia, stumbling their way. She joined them with her own dark magic, enveloping the fabric in a gray sheath, pulling forcefully and steadily, like a machine.

The golem stumbled and tried to correct its balance, and the stallion and Octavia, both thinking the same thing, gave a stronger tug, again hurting Rainbow’s jaw, but forcing the golem’s leg even farther back.

“Rarity, Pinkie, get over here and help!” Octavia shouted angrily.

Rarity gave one fearful look to her friends, but ran over; Pinkie remained where she was, tending to Twilight, who was curled pitifully at Fluttershy’s side. Rarity didn’t hesitate to add her magic to Octavia’s, increasing the power of the pull even more, but as the golem’s leg slid out from beneath it, it gave a tug of its own, releasing the tarp from Rainbow’s mouth and yanking the stallion bodily into the group of mares, upsetting their spells. As it stumbled forward, the mares that remained in front of it scattered, Pinkie and Applejack pulling Twilight and Fluttershy away from the pounding columns of barrels.

Rainbow rubbed her jaw. She was tired and angry, and with the final, easy pull of the golem, what seemed their last hope of defeating it faded. She looked at her friends in the distance, her eyes finally settling on Pinkie. “Pinkie, now would be a great time for some of that godlike power!” she called, her mind buzzing with anger, with defeat, with hopelessness.

Pinkie looked up at her unhappily, then up at the golem. It had started moving once more, passing them by, its massive strides traversing the hilltop quickly.

“Pinkie! Do something!” Rainbow cried. She tried to follow it, but her heart was not in it, and she could not keep up. Octavia was behind her, hobbling on a bleeding leg, her eyes unfocused on the colossal brown mass. When it stopped moving, Rainbow did too, surprised. Then she saw why.

It was leaking. On the edges of its holes, the barrels were shattered and empty, but those closer to the middle bled rich, red wine, their slats swelling away like inflating balloons, the metal rings pressing grooves into their breaking bodies. She watched as the dark red and purple gushes of liquid ran in splashing curtains onto the already soaked ground, pooling around their hooves. The golem shuddered, the sound of its wooden units clacking together mystifying and unnerving, and as the wine slowed down, it was clear that the fight was over. The empty barrels fell away like dead leaves from a tree, rolling down the hill, until all that remained were the crude stacks that formed its hooves: simple pyramids of inert barrels.

Pinkie exhaled roughly and backed away, trembling. There was silence for about a minute before anyone spoke.

“Is everyone okay?” It was the green stallion, soaked with wine. He moved among them slowly.

“I’m okay,” Rainbow said, and Applejack nodded in agreement.

“Twilight and Fluttershy are not okay,” Octavia said, limping over. Her stance was weak, and Rainbow leaned in to support her. She moved away.

“Twilight?” Appleajck asked nervously.

Twilight was again standing, still staring lifelessly. “I’m…” Her lips quivered for a second, and she turned abruptly to throw up onto the ground.

“Fluttershy is unconscious,” Rarity said, and the stallion made his way to her. He knelt by her side and examined her, checking her pulse and prodding her limp body. “No broken bones, just unconscious.”

“What happened?” Rainbow asked.

“She was hit with a metal hoop,” Octavia breathed. “And Twilight was struck as well. I did not see with what.”

“Unicorn, let me check you,” the stallion said, and Twilight complied as he felt her, much the same as he had Fluttershy. “This needs medical attention. You have two broken ribs.” He looked over at Rainbow. “Someone, bring me the tarp.”

Rarity levitated it over, and he began tearing strips off it and wrapping them around Twilight’s midsection. She made no sound as he splinted her, and when he was done, he inspected her once more.

“Try to cough often, so fluid doesn’t collect in your chest cavity.”

Twilight gave an experimental cough and winced. “It hurts.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing to do about that.” He went to Octavia. “Gray pony?”

“I will be fine,” she said, but allowed him to inspect her anyway.

“As long as you keep that wound clean, you’ll be fine,” he said. “The cut is not too deep. Pink pony?”

Pinkie only shook her head.

He looked her over quickly, then Rainbow, then Rarity. “We must return to Vintage.”

“No!” Twilight cried, coughing. She sat down, and Applejack rubbed her back. “I mean, we haven’t finished our spell yet.”

“Yer not in any condition to do that spell today, darlin’,” Applejack said gently. “Rainbow, help me carry her.”

“I can walk fine,” Twilight protested, struggling to her hooves and then falling down again.

“Twilight, you have two cracked ribs, plus whatever else. Just let us help,” Rainbow said.

“Pink pony, help me carry the yellow pegasus,” the stallion said, and Pinkie wordlessly helped him lift her up, at first slinging her over his own back, but then trading to Pinkie’s when it became clear he couldn’t hold her. “Follow me,” he said, limping down the hill.

Twilight took one last look at the abandoned site, the dark ground strewn with splintered barrels, and allowed her friends to help her away.

“Okay, who are you?” Rainbow asked after a while. They were well on their way down, but the tents were still far away, and the sun was beginning to set in front of them.

“Just a humble worker,” he said.

“No way, nuh-uh. I’m not believing that. No ‘humble worker’ just jumps into the fray like that.”

“You did.”

“Yeah, but we have experience.”

“Is that so?”

“We have faced things like this before,” Octavia said.

“Where?”

“Manehattan,” Rainbow said.

“Ah, yes. Spring-hoof Jack.”

Rainbow looked at him, shocked. “Seriously? I could’ve believed you before that one, you know. How do you know about…” She smiled in spite of herself. “Wait. Are you one of them?”

“One of what?”

She leaned in to whisper to him. “Secret agent pony?”

He laughed heartily, his rustic voice loud in the silent vineyard. “Now what makes you think such a thing exists?”

“We saw the same thing in Manehattan, when Spring-hoof Jack came at us. A group of strangers came out of nowhere and kicked his butt.”

“They said they were apart from the police force, but still workin’ in concert with the princesses,” Applejack said. “Ah remember them. Didn’t really give it much thought, to be honest.”

The stallion nodded. “Very well.”

They walked on slowly, and Rainbow looked at him. He was short and muscular, his green coat dull and sticky with wine, his graying mane an unkempt bird nest of spikes and swoops, a premature crescent of baldness sitting on its crown. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“So, are you gonna admit you’re a secret agent?” she pressed.

“Oh, that. If it helps you sleep at night, then yes. I am a secret agent.” He glanced at her. “I’m part of a secret organization that spans the entire globe, in charge of keeping the world safe from magical anomalies like that golem.” He smiled. “Happy?”

“Psh. Yeah, right.”

“Your idea, not mine.”

She shrugged. “Sounded cool, though.”

“So what were you doing on that hilltop?” the stallion asked.

“We have a spell we were trying to cast,” Twilight said quietly. “Tooooooo bring the world back together.”

“I see.”

Twilight stopped moving, and Rainbow faltered. “I don’t feel good,” she mumbled.

“How do you feel?” the stallion asked.

“Dizzy. I think I might have a, uh, a headache or somethin’.” She opened her mouth to dry heave.

“You might have a concussion,” he said.

“A concussion?” Rarity repeated. “Is it serious?”

“I cannot say,” he said. “However, I would be more worried about your unconscious pegasus.”

“Fluttershy,” Rainbow said.

“Yes, Fluttershy.”

“What ‘bout you, Pinkie? Yer bein’ uncharacteristically quiet over there,” Applejack said.

“I’m fine,” she said dully.

“Uh, beggin’ yer pardon, but it sure don’t sound like it. What’s wrong?”

Pinkie only shook her head in response, and Applejack was quiet for the time.

When they reached the tents, the sun was just at the edge of the horizon, and Vintage was speaking to a pair of workers.

“Madam Vintage,” the stallion called, getting her attention.

“What is it? Oh my goodness, what happened?” She rushed over to them and took in the scene. Twilight was entirely relying on Rainbow and Applejack to carry her, and Fluttershy had made no recovery. Octavia’s flank was caked with blood and dust, and the stallion moved with a serious limp.

“The golem,” he said, and she gasped.

“Did you fight it?”

“We destroyed it,” Rainbow said, giving Pinkie a sidelong look.

“But many of us are hurt,” he said.

She thought for a second, and when she addressed him, her voice was firm and commanding. “Take them back to my house, get the injured ones in beds. Do whatever you have to do—feed them, clean them, anything—then come back here. Inform the workers that they can go back to their homes.”

He nodded and turned back toward the vineyard. “Come along. It’s not far now.” They followed him slowly back out of the tented area, over the tiny bridge, and into a small cabin, similar to the houses in Ponyville. The inside smelled of stale dust and dead flowers, and they felt strange entering it with the stranger. He led them to a bedroom, where they rested Fluttershy. He checked her pulse and breathing. “She’s fine for now. Make sure her head remains tilted back so her airways remain clear.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Rainbow asked.

“Yes.” He took them to a second bedroom, next to the first, and put Twilight to bed. “You need to stay here. Get plenty of fluids, and don’t exert yourself.” He turned to Pinkie and Applejack. “Watch her.”

“Will she be okay?” Applejack asked.

“In time. Just be sure she stays rested. I need to head back.”

“Already?”

“What about Octavia?” Pinkie asked.

“It’s just a cut. Clean it out and put a bandage on it.” He trotted out of the house, and Octavia entered the room, her face downcast and respectful.

“How are you, Twilight?”

“I’m… no,” Twilight said, shaking her head lightly.

“What is wrong?”

Twilight turned to look at Applejack and Pinkie. “Uh… uh… I wanna have privacy with this pony here.”

Octavia looked to the others. “Watch for Vintage. Tell her what is happening when she arrives.”

“You gonna be okay, Twilight?” Applejack asked.

Twilight shook her head, fraying her mane across the dull beige pillow. “I wanna talk to Octavia.”

“I will watch her,” Octavia assured. When they were alone, Octavia looked closely at Twilight. “What is bothering you?”

Before she had prepared herself for the talk, Twilight was crying. She watched dispassionately as Twilight stared at the ceiling, her eyes leaking across her fur. She didn’t wipe them away, and slowly came to a stop on her own. Her lips trembled as she started to speak, and faltered. She swallowed, and tried again. “I’m drowning,” she whispered.

Octavia moved closer. “What do you mean?”

“It all came back to me now, just now. When we were up there.”

“A flashback?”

Twilight shivered and sobbed again, nodding. She brought a hoof to her face, slowly, and grimaced with the pain it caused her chest. She coughed. “I coulda sworn I was over it. I really could have.”

“It is not something one overcomes easily.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t continue, and looked back at the ceiling.

Octavia sat down. “I do not know the details of what you have experienced, so I cannot try to understand how you feel. However, I want you to know that you are not alone. You and Rarity have talked about it, I know. And you and I have talked, to a lesser extent.”

“What are you saying?” Twilight asked dully.

“I want you to understand that you have friends here, who are looking out for you. I too am haunted by my past, and I know how flashbacks feel.” She stopped briefly to look out the window. She was uncomfortable, opening herself to Twilight. “I suppose, what I am trying to say, is that I am here for you. If you need to share, and do not want to do so with the others, you need only ask, and I will listen.”

Twilight sniffed loudly, and blinked away her tears. “Thanks.”

Octavia regarded her. She could hear the others in the other room. “Is that why you froze up on the hilltop?”

“Yeah. Flashback. I… I’m not really sure why, now that I think about it. Kinda silly.”

“You said that you were drowning. Why is that?”

Twilight didn’t answer.

“Are you afraid that you will never recover?”

Twilight nodded, then closed her eyes, squeezing more tears. “I just want to get over it, Octavia. Is that too much to ask?”

Octavia sighed. “Is it?” “I am sure that you will get better in time.”

Pinkie joined Rarity in the other room, while Rainbow went with Applejack to wait for Vintage. Fluttershy still slept, and Pinkie still moped.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie, but I just don’t see what the problem is,” Rarity said. “Why did it take so long for you to do something?” In her mind, guilt lanced at her, for she too had waited.

Pinkie sighed, but looked into her eyes as she responded. “I don’t want to have this much power, Rarity. Remember what Celestia said? I have enough power to rival even her. But I don’t want to rival anypony. Back before I knew I was magical, I could just do things, and nopony cared. I could make ponies happy however I wanted, and it didn’t matter, ‘cause I was just little ol’ Pinkie. Nopony questioned it. But now, ponies only want me to use my power for mean things, like killing that barrel monster.”

“But Pinkie, that thing needed killing,” Rarity said.

“How do you know? What if it was just trying to go for a walk or something, and we attacked it? How would you feel if you were a big pony-golem-thing in a world where everything else was tiny? How would you feel if everything ran from you or attacked you? And whenever you go on a walk, just to relax or see the sky or whatever, everyone instantly tries to be mean to you?”

Internally, Rarity had to concede Pinkie’s point. The golem hadn’t actually done anything except walk toward them. “It was going to ruin our spell,” she eventually said, feeling shame at the excuse.

“It wasn’t her fault, though. She was so big, and didn’t have a face; she probably couldn’t even see where she was going. She didn’t know we were there.”

“That’s certainly no reason to let her destroy our work and endanger our lives,” Rarity said. She looked over at Fluttershy, still motionless.

“I just don’t like having the power to do these things,” Pinkie said. “I don’t want to hurt ponies.” She smiled a little, her eyes recapturing their characteristic gleam. “I want to make them smile, and laugh, and dance! I want to cheer ponies up, not destroy them!”

“You’re comfortable using your magic when you and Twilight do the sigil,” Rarity said slowly.

“That’s different,” Pinkie said.

“How?”

“I… I dunno. It just is.”

Applejack stopped Rainbow by the dilapidated bridge. The pegasus had been giving her looks all the way over, and she felt tension coiling in her gut, still, from days earlier. “Okay, Rainbow. Ah know you an’ Ah got a job to do, but Ah’m tired of us walkin’ on eggshells ‘round each other. Ah wanna talk this out.”

“Talk what out?” Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Come off it, sugarcube. Ya think Ah can’t tell yer still sore ‘bout our argument?”

Rainbow looked down. “Yeah, all right.”

Applejack looked at her. In the sunset, her eyes looked dark and judgmental, and she breathed slowly through her nose.

“What? What are you waiting for?”

“Ah’m waitin’ fer an apology. Still.”

“I already apologized,” Rainbow said quietly.

“We both know you didn’t mean it.”

Rainbow’s lips curled upwards momentarily. “Maybe you should apologize for nagging at me so much. It was just a dumb mistake, okay? You’re treating it like it’s some huge betrayal of trust, or something.”

“Ain’t it? Y’almost killed yerselves in that consarned snow tube, an’ ya didn’t even tell us what was goin’ on. That’s pretty selfish, RD.”

Rainbow pawed at the ground. “We weren’t thinking about that.”

Applejack sighed. “Ah know. But… Ah just feel scared. Scared fer you, scared fer us. This ain’t Ponyville no more. Runnin’ off on a whim like that can get a pony killed. It almost did.”

Rainbow sighed.

“Can you understand where Ah’m comin’ from, Rainbow?”

“Yeah, I can.” She nodded. “I totally get it, AJ.”

“So…”

“I’m really sorry. I should have been smarter, but I wasn’t.”

Applejack breathed out. The tension was beginning to loosen. “Ah forgive ya. Everyone makes mistakes. Just don’t do it again, ya hear?” She moved to hug Rainbow, but the pegasus shied away.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I apologized, but it’s your turn now.”

“Apologize fer what?”

“For being such a nag about all of this,” Rainbow said, frowning. “For pushing and pushing and pushing at it. And demanding I apologize, earlier on. That sucked, Applejack.”

“Ah was upset, RD. Can’t ya get that?”

“I get it, sure, but you didn’t have to be so nasty about it.”

Applejack watched her closely. She looked away as Rainbow continued.

“I already felt like dirt, you know? I felt bad about freaking you girls out, and for screwing things up with the police, and all that. I was… I was just hoping for some kindness, okay?”

Applejack nodded slowly, and Rainbow sniffled. She still didn’t turn around.

“I know I don’t usually get like this. It’s just this, and that damn monster up there, and now Fluttershy and Twilight are hurt, and… like you said, we’re not in Ponyville anymore, you know? I hate admitting it, but I need you, AJ.” Her voice cracked. “I need all of you. I thought I could handle anything, but I can’t. Not alone, anyway.”

“Rainbow…” She thought. She had seen her friend cry a few times, and badly, but she never got used to it. It always felt like an insult to Rainbow’s usual character to hear the vulnerability she knew was inside take voice.

“I love you girls so much, a-and it makes me feel like such crap when I do stupid shit like that.” She took a ragged breath in. “I just wanna go back to how things used to be.”

Applejack placed a hoof on the quivering spot between her wings. “We can always go back, RD. We’re in a tough patch right now, but it’ll pass. You know that.”

Rainbow nodded. “Thanks, Applejack.” She turned and embraced her, and Applejack returned it with a strong hug of her own.

“Ah love ya too, Rainbow. An’ Ah’m sorry fer makin’ ya feel that way.”

Rainbow sniffed and snorted into her mane. “It’s okay.” They disconnected after a minute and kept walking, humbled by the outpouring of emotion. When the tents were in sight, Rainbow looked askance at Applejack. “Uh, but not, like, marefriend and marefriend love.”

Applejack grinned. “No, Ah know.”

When they returned with Vintage, Twilight was already feeling better, and the workers were beginning the tiresome process of returning to their houses on the vineyard. Octavia cleaned and dressed her wound before helping Vintage in the kitchen, and entered Twilight’s room with a quartet of sandwiches balanced on her head.

At her odd appearance, Pinkie immediately broke into raucous laughter. “Octy, you—”

“Name,” Octavia corrected sternly.

“Octavia, you look sooooooo funny! It’s like a sandwich hat!” She gasped, and they braced themselves for the explosion of talking they knew was to come. “Oh my gosh! I just thought of the best party favor ever! Hats, but made out of food!”

Rainbow and Applejack exchanged amused looks, and Twilight watched with confusion as Pinkie rambled. Octavia passed out the sandwiches, keeping none for herself, and when Pinkie finished, a full minute later, she looked at them with eager eyes.

“Ah think it’s a great idea,” Applejack said carefully, not wanting to tarnish Pinkie’s sudden good mood.

“If we have enough time after finding the Element, perhaps we can,” Octavia said cautiously.

Pinkie beamed at her, and Applejack spoke up.

“Yeah, uh, what’re we gonna do ‘bout that, anyway?”

“Oh no!” Twilight cried. “We can’t get it tomorrow! Not without Fluttershy.”

“Not without you either,” Rainbow said.

“She is right,” Octavia said. “Someone will need to tell Sandoz that we will not be seeing her tomorrow.”

“Oh! Oh! Pick me! I wanna go see her again!” Pinkie cried.

“Ah’ll go with ya,” Applejack said.

Octavia nodded to them, and they exited. They could hear them speaking with Vintage in the other room. Since returning to her home, and finding it undamaged, her mood had improved, though she still addressed them with a certain distance.

“So how long do you think we’ll have to wait?” Rainbow asked.

“Longer than we would like,” Octavia said. “While Fluttershy is unconscious, we can do nothing for Twilight.”

“What about you heal her? You’re pretty powerful.”

Octavia shook her head. “I would dare not. I do not know anything of healing magic.” She looked up to see Rarity enter. “How is Fluttershy?”

“Still no change. I’m really starting to get worried,” Rarity said. “And how are you, Twilight?”

“Little better,” Twilight said mildly. “We were just talking about what to do about the Element.”

“Ah, yes. I hope we don’t have to wait too long.”

“You don’t know any healing magic, do you?” Rainbow asked.

“Me? Goodness, no. I’ve never been good enough for something like that.”

Rainbow sighed. “Guess we just gotta wait it out.”

No one spoke, and Twilight closed her eyes as she laid her head back on the pillow.

Rarity cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t help with the golem, girls.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” Twilight said, not opening her eyes.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but I was wondering about that,” Rainbow said. “What happened?”

“I don’t really know. I think I just froze up. It was terrifying, you know.”

“It was,” Octavia said. “I was also afraid.”

“You?” Twilight asked.

“I am only a pony.”

“I’m just happy that secret agent pony was there to help us out,” Rainbow said.

“Yes…” Rarity said. “Yes, thank goodness.”

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

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually. And… I don’t like it.”

“What?”

“If it wasn’t for that secret agent—and I’m not entirely convinced that’s what he is, Rainbow, darling—I really don’t think we would have stopped that thing.”

“I have been pondering the same thing,” Octavia said. “We were all too slow to react. And some of us did not react at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered. “I really am.”

“I was actually thinking of Fluttershy.”

“But she’s right,” Rarity said. “We did quite poorly.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rainbow said.

“I am.”

They were silent for a second. “We will not always have ponies around to help us with things like this,” Octavia said. “We were fortunate today, but we cannot rely on that. We need to learn to overcome our fears.”

Twilight sighed, and they looked at her. “I agree,” she said. “We can’t keep on going like this, freezing, uh, every time somethin’ scary comes up.”

“We are no longer just beginning our adventure. Discord is on the move once again, restarting an army, and we are nowhere near Canterlot.” Octavia paced the room, still limping. “If Twilight’s letters are correct, then things like this are happening all over Equestria, and the princesses expect us to handle it on our own. I am not saying that it is right, only that it is so.” She took a moment to order her thoughts. “Trottingham is nearly dead, and Cloudsdale was left in the care of the police. Who knows what the other cities are experiencing. If we cannot overcome our problems, then we may as well return home right now and tell Princess Celestia to concede her throne.” She looked at Rarity. “We have a job to do, each and every one of us. Manehattan was difficult, and Cloudsdale was a learning experience, but now, we are running out of excuses. We need to rise to this occasion.”

“What if some of us can’t?” Twilight asked. She thought of herself and Fluttershy.

“Then this is for nothing,” Octavia said simply.

“Do you really believe that?” Rarity asked.

“Yes.”

It was an hour before sunrise when Octavia woke up with a start, shaking and sniveling. She ran a trembling hoof over her disheveled mane, and rested her head on the hard, uncovered floor. Her injured flank burned, and she turned over, replaying the fight in her mind. She had been initially afraid, and her slow reaction simmered in her mind with the rest of the negativity, dredged up freshly by her dreams.

She lay back, watching the dark ceiling. She had done it more times than she could count, in hotels across Equestria. The night before a show, knowing she should be asleep, she would instead lie on top of the foreign bed, as tense as her instrument. The last time she had been in Trottingham, to perform for the Astra family’s garden party, she had spent the night in a tiny, cheap hotel next to an airship lot, alone. The play of airship lights and the sound of engines overhead kept her company all night, and she wound up watching the sunrise from the freezing windowsill, just beside the air conditioning vent. “I never did get to visit the vineyard, though. So there is that.”

She could hear little. Her roommates’ breathing, the night softly purring with crickets and sighing wind, Vintage snoring on the other side of the house—she had volunteered to take the couch while Twilight and Fluttershy recovered. She got up to go to the window, and stopped at another noise: a shuffle, as faint as the light at the edge of the horizon, in the other room. She listened for a minute as it repeated, always at odd intervals, always coming to rest immediately after beginning.

She edged the door open, stepped into the hall, and carefully entered the abutting room. Rainbow and Applejack were snuggled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, and she moved around them to see Fluttershy.

In the dim starlight, she could see the contours of her face and mane, and they moved in a single, restless jerk. “Fluttershy?” Octavia said softly, raising a hoof to prod her.

Her eyes slowly opened, and Fluttershy looked around, anxiety buckling her brows into a pained line.

“It is I, Octavia. You are somewhere safe.”

She tried to sit up, but Octavia placed a hoof on her to hold her down. “Octavia? What’s going on?”

“You fell unconscious during the battle with the barrel golem. Do you remember it?”

Fluttershy nodded. “How… how long have I been, um, out?”

“Only a few hours. It is the very early morning, the day after.” She looked around at the sleeping pair on the floor. “Rainbow, Applejack, wake up.”

They stirred uncomfortably, and Rainbow let out a loud yawn. “What the hay? It’s still dark.”

“Fluttershy is awake.”

At her words, they started up to stand at Fluttershy’s bedside, looking at her worriedly, asking how she was doing.

“Give her space. She has just woken up, and is still confused,” Octavia said. “Someone, go wake up Vintage.”

“Ah’ll do it,” Applejack said, trotting out of the bedroom.

“So how do you feel?” Rainbow asked.

“Um… my head hurts. But I think I’m okay,” Fluttershy said.

The door opened again, and Applejack and Vintage entered. They checked on her, giving her a glass of water, checking her pulse, asking whether she was hurt. Octavia felt bad for Fluttershy; she could see her trying to shrink under the sheets, uncomfortable with the attention being given to her.

When they were finished, the sun was halfway over the horizon, and Fluttershy went back to sleep with a sigh. Vintage did not go back to sleep, choosing instead to go out into her vineyard and assess damages.

While Vintage was out, Octavia prepared breakfast. She hadn’t gone back to sleep either, and spent a couple hours outside, enjoying the cool, central Equestrian weather. It wouldn’t last; summer was less than a month away.

Everyone was relieved to see that Fluttershy had woken during the night, and Rainbow had to hold Pinkie back from having a preemptive recovery party. Twilight too was feeling better, and though she was still in pain, her concussion had vanished. She took her breakfast in bed, and her friends stayed in her room to keep her company.

“Until Fluttershy is feeling better, I advise against having her heal you,” Octavia said.

“Ah’m with her on that one,” Applejack said. “Ah’m sorry, Twi, but it’s best you just wait.”

“I’m really sorry, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, head hung. “If I had just been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault, Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “It could have been any of us.”

“How long until she is able to heal you, though?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Fluttershy, but without Twilight, we’re kind of stuck here. We can’t go into those aqueducts, and we can’t do any spells.”

Fluttershy only bowed her head again.

“I think it’ll be a couple days, at least,” Twilight said. “Brain injuries tend to leave their mark on a pony’s magical abilities.”

“So what can we do while Fluttershy recovers?” Octavia asked.

They looked at one another, thinking, for several minutes. “Oh, I got it!” Pinkie cried, jumping in place. “The villa!”

“We can go down there an’ get acquainted with that snobby family,” Applejack said, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds good. We won’t need ya fer that, Twilight.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, a little crestfallen. “Go on ahead. I had kind of hoped to go with you, but… well, anyway. Yes, yes, go ahead.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Fluttershy asked.

Twilight sighed. “I’ll live, Fluttershy. You girls just focus on getting the villa ready for a spell. Don’t worry about me.”

After breakfast, Rainbow went out to find Vintage and tell her they were leaving for the day, with Fluttershy staying behind to look after Twilight. After going in briefly one final time to say goodbye, they left her alone in her bed, and Fluttershy to stand beside her. She turned, ignoring the pain in her ribs, to watch the ship fly away from the window.

When it was out of sight, she waited a few minutes more, then slowly reoriented herself under the comforter. She sighed and tried to get comfortable, boredom already creeping in. Fluttershy looked at her with a mild blush, and Twilight forced a smile. “Sorry, Fluttershy. I’m afraid I’m not the best company right now.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Twilight,” Fluttershy said quietly. “You’re injured.”

“Yeah.” She thought back to her conversation with Octavia. “That’s what it is.”

It took Twilight an hour of assurance that she was okay before Fluttershy agreed to leave her alone. She hated to admit it to herself, but the pegasus’ company did more to sour her mood than uplift it. The constant shyness, the apologies, the awkward silences, all broken by occasional bursts of forced optimism; it was too much, and Twilight saw through it. Neither was comfortable in her position, and both were scared to speak freely.

At noon, Vintage came into her room with a vase of flowers, which she set on the windowsill. “I thought you had a friend here to look after you.”

“She’s outside,” Twilight said shortly.

“Ah. So, how are you feeling?”

“Bored.”

“Mm, yes, the eternal boredom of recovery. I know your pain.”

Twilight looked up at her with an involuntary smile. “You do?”

“I was in the hospital a few years ago for a broken leg.”

“What happened?”

“Accident in the bottling building. I fell off a stack of barrels.”

“That must have hurt.”

“Tons. But, that’s history.” She sighed and paced the room. “I know you’re not doing too great, but you seven actually did a really good job with the golem. I have no idea what we would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

Twilight dropped her smile. “We’re happy to help.”

“I know you’re the Elements of Harmony, but I didn’t know you knew how to fight monsters like that.”

“We have a little experience.”

“Have you run into Discord yet?”

“Yeah, a couple times.”

Vintage uttered a light gasp, and her eyes lit up. “What’s he like?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell, actually. The first time, he was really annoying.” She thought for a moment. “Pinkie thought he was funny, though. He was a real joker. But this time… none of that. He’s pretty scary, to be honest.”

“But you fought him and survived.”

Twilight gave her a weak smile, and Vintage sat down. “Yeah, we’re all okay.”

“What was the golem like? If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.”

“No, it’s fine.” She paused. She wasn’t sure why she had said it; she wasn’t comfortable discussing it with the pony in her room—the pony who had, up to that point, been cold and authoritative with them, not curious and pleasant. “I was trying to cast my spell when it showed up, and I was concentrating so hard that I barely even noticed anything until Rainbow Dash screamed at me to get out of there. And… well, then we fought.”

“And how was that?”

Twilight recalled her time with Octavia the day before. It was still fresh, and the memories it invoked still smoldered, newly stirred up by the sudden appearance of yet another horror she couldn’t handle. Even sitting in the bed, the sun up, alone with Vintage, she could feel herself shrinking inside.

“You all right? You look sick.”

“Oh, it’s… this whole thing,” Twilight said lamely. She waved a hoof to dismiss the thoughts.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m okay.” She looked back to the window and sniffed. “Thanks, though.”

Vintage shrugged. “I never thanked you for saving my vineyard. I truly appreciate it.”

Twilight forced a smile. “It’s what we do.”

“You suffered the most for it,” Vintage said, and Twilight shrugged.

“Do you know the green stallion that helped us?”

Vintage thought. “Well, his name is Loose Threads, Threads for short. He’s a picker, I think. But I don’t know anything about him.”

“Hm. Rainbow thinks he’s a secret agent.”

Vintage barked a loud laugh. “Oh, goodness. That’s rich.”

Twilight giggled too. “I know. She thinks because we saw some undercover cops in Manehattan that now there’s secret agents everywhere.” She coughed. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

“Are you okay?”

“It hurts to talk.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. If I knew talking hurt you, I’d have left you alone.”

“No no, it’s no problem. I appreciate the company.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” She looked at the door. “I’m sorry, but I need to get back to work. I’ll make sure to spend time with you later tonight, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

Vintage gave her a smile, her rosy cheeks dimpling pleasantly, and left the room. Twilight waited, and a few minutes later, she sighed: bored already.

The two story, burgundy-roofed villa occupied its own corner of the abandoned city, extraordinary among the small houses and barns everywhere else. It was a wide, rectangular building set between two smaller, single story houses, each topped with a sloping, pointed roof and guarded by a menacing, black fence. The walls were pale, the decorative windows large and blank; a neatly trimmed wall of shrubs skirted the front, hiding the space where the villa seemed to spring from the grass.

From the front door, raised on yellowed steps, a walkway passed through a wide courtyard, almost as large as the main building itself. It was centered with a long, clear pool and headed by a tall, shimmering fountain, a large bird on top, conjuring water from its beak. Rows of perfectly shaped trees lined the courtyard’s outer and inner edges, fuzzy green giving way to the huge, dark, intricate hedge maze before it. A haze of sunlight softened its edges, mixing shadow and light into a wide, circular whirl, broken only by the numerous points of light filling its corners and junctions: fountains and statues, Octavia said, each endowed with the family’s enchantment. She directed them to land outside the maze.

They got off the ship slowly. From the ground, the maze seemed impossible; a deep, maddening den of dead ends and false exits, its walls deep green, stippled with flowers and blurred by sun-caught motes of pollen and dust. A black fence kept the entrance closed, and Octavia indicated a large, concrete pedestal. On it was painted a simple, bold sigil. “That is a communication sigil,” she said. “We use it to tell the Astras why we are here.”

“They don’t like walk-ins, huh?” Rainbow said.

“They are very private.” She walked to the sigil and looked at it for a moment, then pressed a hoof to it. At her touch, it glowed a soft rose, and she looked back at them.

For a minute, they stood around, watching the sigil. “Are you sure it’s working?” Rarity asked.

Octavia’s ears stood up as a child’s voice spoke on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this the pony in charge of the villa?”

“Uhhh… no. Can you wait? I can go get Mama Astra if you want.”

“Please do so.”

The voice faded away, and Octavia looked back at her friends with a small roll of her eyes.

“Yes, who is it?” a gruff, feminine voice asked from the sigil.

“Ah, hello. My apologies, madam. We are the Elements of Harmony, and we were wondering whether we could have an audience with you.”

“What does it concern?”

“We are working to restore the city.”

A momentary pause. “I see, I see. And you are looking for my permission?”

“In a manner of speaking. There is much to discuss on the specifics of the spell, and our mage believes that your family may be of some help.”

The sigil went quiet for a time, and the others moved uncomfortably behind Octavia. Eventually, it spoke. “Very well. Someone will guide you through the maze.” Before Octavia could respond, the sigil went blank, and the gate to the labyrinth creaked open.

They walked in. “So… how exactly are we gonna talk specifics if Twilight ain’t here?” Applejack asked.

“To be honest, I do not really know,” Octavia said. “I was hoping to figure that out when we got inside.”

“I hope you weren’t relying on one of us to know how that spell works,” Rarity said.

“I am afraid that I was.”

Rarity sighed and Rainbow giggled, but they quieted at the sight of a light gray pony approaching from afar. Its face was blank and lifeless, its eyes dull, and it carried a small spear in its closed jaws. As it moved, it grumbled, like gravel scraping on stone.

“Oh, wowee! Is that one of those living statues?” Pinkie cried, jumping up and running over to see it. It ignored her as it approached, and she followed it back with a series of energetic hops.

Its stone face was lined with the same details on any pony’s face, but without depth or color; eyes with no pupils, shallow nostrils, a thin line of lips, parting only barely at the ends to give room for the spear it held. It stood before them expectantly, and Octavia walked toward it. “Well, follow the statue.”

As soon as they all moved, it turned and walked before them. Its hoofsteps were heavy and final on the soft grass, mixing eerily with the sound of the unseen fountains. They walked past a wide trough of hedge, curving them gently to the side, until the entrance had vanished. They looked up; though the sun was up, the shadows of the hedges kept them shaded.

“Is this how you got in when you played for their garden party?” Rarity asked.

“Yes,” Octavia said. “Though last time, it was not a statue, but a topiary pony. There are many of these in the maze.”

“Can it… hear us?”

“I do not think so. I think they are enchanted to understand their masters’ orders only.”

“So I can yell at it and it won’t get mad?” Rainbow asked.

“Don’t,” Applejack said.

“I do not know how they will react to harassment,” Octavia said. “And I would really rather not find out.”

“I think they’re wonderful,” Rarity said, stopping briefly to look at a fountain behind a black fence.

“I like them as well.”

“Wait, so how many of these things do these Astras have?” Rainbow asked.

“There are very many. Statues and topiary ponies live in the maze, I know. I think some of the fountains are enchanted as well, for defense.”

“How can a statue defend something?” Pinkie asked.

“They are like magical turrets. What else? Oh, they have servant outfits that move on their own. For things like cleaning, serving food, and the like.”

“And the princesses are okay with this?” Rarity asked.

“I do not understand your question.”

“Magical workers are against the law,” Rainbow said. “We had to take a course in elementary business law to be part of the weather team. You know how we have to have a ton of pegasi to operate the weather machines in Cloudsdale? That’s only because we’re not allowed to have self-operating machinery. Can you imagine how many ponies would be out of a job if we did?”

“I’ve never ever heard of ponies having enchanted servants or guards for their homes,” Rarity said. “Except these Astras. It’s tremendously illegal, isn’t it?”

“I understand now,” Octavia said. “And I have no idea. I know next to nothing about Equestrian law.” They passed around a tight corner and between a pair of large, circular barriers, to the maze’s exit.

“Maybe they’re bribing the princesses,” Rainbow said, and Applejack laughed.

“Yeah, Ah’d like to see someone try it. She’d have them in the dungeons so fast, their heads would spin.”

They walked down a beaten, grassy road to the black fence around the courtyard. The villa stood at the end like a watchful master, looming over the pristine, sunbathing area with silent dignity. The fence swung open for them, and the statue walked them through, turning a sharp corner at a line of trees. They moved down the path, lateral to the villa, to another corner, where they moved toward the house, giving a wide berth to the glimmering, central rectangle of crystal water.

“I played there,” Octavia said, pausing to point. “Near that pool.” She inclined her head toward Pinkie, who was taking a breath to speak. “And no, we did not get to swim. It is not for recreation.”

“Do you like swimmin’, Octavia?” Applejack asked.

“No.”

“I don’t care for it either, darling,” Rarity said. “It takes so long to get one’s mane and tail in order afterwards, and more often than not, the water is too cold, or dirty.”

“You spend hours in the spa hot tub,” Rainbow said.

“Yes, but that’s different. That is a controlled environment, Dash.” They turned another corner and walked toward a large, three-tiered fountain.

“That is the primary defense fountain,” Octavia said. “See the bird on top? Spells come out of its beak.”

“That sounds awesome,” Rainbow said.

“Have you seen this fountain in action?” Rarity asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” Octavia said. They walked to the grand staircase to the front doors, and the statue stopped at the foot. They ascended slowly and respectfully, Octavia at the front. She had to stand on her hind legs to reach the door-knocker, a brass ring clutched fiercely in the beak of a dark crow’s head. She pounded the door twice, and backed up to wait with the others.

The door opened slowly, revealing a wizened, dirty green unicorn mare. She looked down at them through a pair of small glasses, evaluating them before speaking. At last, she did. “Well, come on in, then.”

A group of ponies, old and young, stood just inside to watch their entrance. Some were mere foals, while others were almost as old as the matriarch that ushered them in. The door closed of its own accord, and they had only a moment to look around before following her across the marble foyer, past a decorative suit of armor, and down a warm corridor. She didn’t speak, and no one pursued them.

She led them to a large study, lit through a row of tall, narrow windows. Above an empty fireplace, flanked on both sides by tall bookshelves, hung a large, yellowing tapestry depicting the family crest: a huge crow, red-eyed, clutching a book in its beak and a formless rod in its talons. Its feathers seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, and its eyes glowered down on them. A single mare occupied the room, reading at a large, disorganized table. She looked up with an impatient expression, which changed when her eyes lit on Octavia. “I remember you,” she said in a delicate, polite voice. “Octavia Melody. You played for us four years ago.”

Octavia bowed. “Yes, I did. I apologize, you seem to have me at a disadvantage. I do not believe I remember you.”

The mare rose and walked over to them, her stride practiced and deliberate, her eyes steady. “I am Violet Astra. We did not speak at the party.”

“Violet, would you please leave us alone?” the matriarch asked. “These ponies have some important business to which they must attend.”

“Oh, please, Mama Astra, may I not stay?” Violet asked, only the barest hint of desperation in her voice. “I so enjoy visitors.” She looked at Octavia. “Of course, if it does not trouble you.”

“Our business concerns all of you,” Octavia said.

“Oh, fine,” the matriarch said, walking to a threadbare rocking chair. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a minute.

“That’s a cool tapestry,” Rainbow said. Her voice was absent of its usual brashness.

“The crow is our family symbol,” Violet said evenly. “And guardian.”

Mama Astra cleared her throat, and they looked at her obediently. “Restoring the city is your intent, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Octavia said. “We have been traveling across the country, helping ponies and bringing the earth together near cities. We have already been in Ponyville, Canterlot, and Manehattan.”

“How is Manehattan?”

“It… has seen better days. But it will recover, of this I am certain.”

“Good. Proceed.”

“We come to you partially as a courtesy, and partially to make a request.”

“Oh?” She opened her eyes, only to narrow them at the group. “What kind of request?”

“Your villa is in a very fortunate place, as it gives an excellent view of the city. We would like to request your permission to use it as a place from which to cast our spell.”

“I see.” She looked at Rarity. “And you are the one casting this spell?”

“Er… not exactly,” Rarity said. “Our other unicorn is… indisposed.”

“She is injured,” Octavia said. “We encountered a dangerous creature at the vineyard yesterday.”

“I see. You represent the Elements, then?”

Octavia hesitated. “In… this instance, it seems that I do.”

Mama Astra smiled. “Violet, would you show Miss Octavia’s friends around the house?”

“If it is all the same to you, I would rather they stay here to help me explain.”

“Nonsense. You seem to have things under control. Violet?”

“Yes, Mama Astra,” Violet said, looking at the four friends. “Come with me.”

“Good luck, Octavia,” Pinkie said, giving her a small wave.

Octavia nodded, and they followed Violet out of the study. She led them back down the corridor to the foyer, where the crowd of ponies had dispersed. “Mama Astra will accept your request. She puts up the appearance of coldness to scare away the riff-raff, but she is very warm-hearted.”

“Why’d she just want to talk to Octavia?” Rainbow asked.

“I think she wants me to show you the villa so you can figure out where to cast your spell more quickly.”

“So where we gonna go?” Pinkie asked.

Violet thought, and a small smile appeared on her face. “Do you want to see our crow?”

“Your… crow?” Rarity said.

“The family crow. For defense.”

“I mean, if it’s okay, sure. It sounds fascinating.”

“Sure. Follow me.” She set off at a trot through a pair of double doors under the central stairs.

“So, who exactly are you?” Applejack asked. “Not to be rude, but…”

“I’m one of Mama Astra’s granddaughters,” Violet said simply.

“Can we talk about those animated statues?” Rainbow asked. “They’re really cool, by the way.”

“Hm, thank you. What would you like to know?”

“Do you make them yourselves?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone in the house has his or her own job, and for many of us, that is creating and maintaining the servants. I’m one of those ponies.”

“So, you must be a very powerful mage, then,” Rarity said.

“Within my specialty, yes.”

“An’ what specialty is that?” Applejack asked.

“Animation—that is a subset of necromancy.”

“I thought necromancy was illegal,” Rarity said quietly.

“It is when it concerns ponies, but for simply animating lifeless objects, it is fine,” Violet said. They walked silently down a narrow hall, and they could hear music from behind the wall.

“What music is that?” Pinkie asked. “Are you girls having a party?”

“It’s probably Magenta playing his piano. He could use the practice, if you ask me.”

“So, are you all named after yer colors, or what?” Applejack asked.

“It’s Astra tradition to name a foal after the color of their coat, yes. Just as it is to call the matriarch and patriarch ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’.”

“That’s kinda neat.”

“It makes it easy to remember names.”

“You have a big family, then?” Rarity asked.

“Around thirty ponies live here. This way.” She led them through a small door into a side room, and then out into a long, glass-ceilinged space, lined on each side with large troughs of leafy plants. The air smelled heavily of spice and greenery, and the rustic, Trottingham sun shone strongly onto them. Violet took them out into a small, cobbled pathway, uncovered and un-walled save for the outer walls of the surrounding rooms, and to a dull brown entryway, its sides elaborately carved with vines and feathers. She stopped. “It isn’t actually a crow, or any kind of creature. It’s… just don’t be afraid.”

“Why would we be afraid?” Pinkie asked.

She led them through the entryway and into a large, uncovered area, a small, prideful smile on her face as they stopped, one by one, at the room-filling machine before them. The Astra crow, fifteen feet of black, gleaming iron, stood on twin shurikens of talons, its corrugated body swiveling like a suspended planet as it idly pecked at the vast lawn. Its wings were folded sheets of sheer metal, perforated and pointed like knives, and from its wicked thorn of a beak rose two thin tails of black, stuttering smoke, obscuring, but not covering, its hotly glowing eyes. On the back of its neck, turning lazily, a small snarl of sharp gears clicked warningly as it turned its head to regard them.

“She won’t hurt you,” Violet said.

“Can it… see us?” Rarity asked, her voice an anxious husk. She didn’t take her eyes off it.

“She has all the abilities of a real bird.”

“Except it’s huge, and a machine,” Rainbow deadpanned.

“What’s it doin’?” Applejack asked.

“Feeding,” Violet said. “Sort of.”

“It feeds? How does that work?” Pinkie asked.

“The crow thinks she’s alive—that was the easiest way to get her to behave like a real bird. She’s enchanted to behave in accordance with her form. So, like a real bird, she eats things.”

“But it doesn’t really eat them,” Rarity said.

“There’s a latch in the back of her throat that collects everything she eats—she’s actually really good for gathering food for us. My aunt empties it every week, when we clean her.”

“It doesn’t preen itself?” Rainbow asked.

“No, she does… but she can’t reach everything with that big beak. Like the spaces between the feather hinges, or the soot pipes, or the furnace.”

“Furnace,” Applejack repeated. She looked at Violet interrogatively.

“Where her heart and lungs would be, there’s a pair of magical furnaces.”

“And this… thing is completely safe?” Rarity asked. She had moved behind Pinkie, who stood forward, fascinated, watching the crow watch them.

“She is safe for you, because you are friends,” Violet said matter-of-factly. “But she’s quite protective.”

“Yeah, no, we won’t be pulling anything on you,” Rainbow said. “Not with, um, her.”

“I think she’s beautiful!” Pinkie cried. “Can I pet her?”

“You can’t be serious, Pinkie,” Rarity said.

“Go ahead,” Violet said. “She’s gentle. Don’t burn yourself on her beak, though; that smoke can be quite hot.”

As Pinkie cautiously moved toward the mechanical crow, Rainbow walked along the room’s side to see it from a different angle. “So you made this thing yourselves?” she asked.

“Every generation gets a new crow. That’s another tradition.”

“Are they always so… terrifyin’?” Applejack asked. The crow lowered its head for Pinkie to stroke a fan of black metal.

“Not at all. Each one is different. Last generation’s crow was actually very ordinary.”

“Yikes! You weren’t kidding about that smoke!” Pinkie said, recoiling from the machine’s head.

“She’s not designed to be pleasant,” Violet said, approaching. The crow bobbed its head rapidly, and Pinkie ran away with a small squeal. “She’s a defense mechanism, remember. Would you like to see her outside?”

“Oh… dear, that sounds… fine,” Rarity said weakly. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the bird.

“Come out here with me.” She turned to the crow. “Crow, go outside; my friends want to see you fly.”

Mama Astra nodded as Octavia finished explaining their mission, and pushed her glasses back up on her face. “Very well, Miss Melody. As soon as your unicorn is ready to perform the spell, we will be happy to welcome you back.” She looked around, and grabbed a small, silver bell in her magic, ringing it shortly. “A servant shall take you to your friends. You are all welcome to stay the night, if you want. I know the vineyard does not have much to offer for lodging.”

Octavia bowed. “Thank you very much, madam. I would not be surprised if some of us take you up on your offer.”

“It is my pleasure.” She waved languidly, and Octavia turned at a faint whisper of fabric. An empty suit stood before her on neatly cuffed sleeves, its gaping neck hole pointed to her as if it could see her.

She followed the servant suit back through the foyer, down a small, bent hallway, and outside. Immediately, she froze. A colossal, black bird threw its shadow over the pristine fields, huge curtains of deep yellow flame shaking off its screeching, beating wings like dust. Below it were her friends, and several others, not running, but watching, only the barest sign of unrest on their faces. She hastened to catch up to the suit.

When she arrived at the crowd of onlookers, Pinkie turned to regard her with a wide smile. “Octavia! Check it out!”

“What is happening? What is this?”

“It’s the family crow,” Rainbow said. The bird machine shrieked over them once more, jets of flame following its deadly wings. “It’s… yeah, just watch.”

Octavia sat down with them. Several of the Astras—younger ones, mostly—had come out to watch the spectacle as well, and cheered as it passed.

Violet came up to them. “Did everything go well with Mama Astra?”

“Yes. She will allow us to cast our spell here.”

“Good. I knew she would.”

“And… what is all this?”

Violet smiled, but didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head up to the massive machine. “Return, and land.” She spoke at a conversational volume, but the bird responded immediately.

It turned a sharp corner and flew toward them, its beak and eyes glowing bright, flaming red. Smoke rolled off it in huge, wind-torn crests, and its wings stretched out across the field like demonic clouds to slow its approach. It flapped once, blowing hot air at them, to steady itself as it landed.

Violet’s smile turned into a toothy grin. “Now watch this. Those gears on her neck serve a very important purpose, besides intimidation. Crow, take off your head.”

“Wait, what?” Rarity cried, but her objection was drowned out by a dark grinding sound as more fire licked up the crow’s head. It turned away from the spectating Astras, and, crouching forward slightly, released its iron head from its body with a fiery bang of separated metal and torn landscape.

Fire wreathed its empty neck, and for a moment, they had to shield their eyes from the sudden intensity of light from the mechanical monster. Tens of feet away from its standing body, the head lay on the ground, beak to the sky, heaving plumes of crackling smoke. Connecting the two, there was a twin set of thick, dull gray chains, loosely spanning the lawn.

“That is amazing,” Octavia said quietly.

“Thanks,” Violet said. “She’s never had to use it in battle. Most ponies run away just after looking at her.”

“I can see why.”

“Go ahead and put your head back on, crow.”

With an agonizing crunch, the gears at the back of the crow’s head whirred in place, and the chains slowly retracted back into its neck, dragging the flaming head across the withering grass. Sparks flew as its beak scraped its breast, and it leaned in and wiggled its shoulders to reattach the head, which snapped and twisted on with a sharp crack. The family cheered once more, Pinkie with them, adding a small spray of confetti.

“That was so awesome!” she shrieked, running around them while the crow dipped its beak into a wing. “I mean, it’s absolutely terrifying, but in a really good way!” She bounced up and down, laughing, and Rainbow joined her. Before Octavia could admonish them, they were gone into the crowd, stirring up laughter and happy conversation.

“Go ahead and rest, crow,” Violet said, and the bird gave her one last, fiery look before dimming its eyes into low glows. “Don’t go near her for at least an hour. She’s really hot right now.”

“Twilight will be very interested in this,” Octavia said.

“Is she your missing unicorn?”

“Yes. She is very studious.”

“I like her already.” She cocked her ears and looked over at the group of ponies. Pinkie and Rainbow had mixed them into a small frenzy, dancing and laughing to disembodied, happy music. “What exactly is going on?”

“The pink one has a very particular talent for creating parties out of thin air. It appears that she is doing that now.”

“Hm. Parties were never really attractive to me.”

A ghost of a smile passed over Octavia’s face. “As for me. Shall we go somewhere quieter?”

“Sure. Do you want to see the music room?”

“I would love to.”

They quietly separated from the growing crowd and reentered the villa. Ponies were moving about with the occasional suit servant among them, and they paid Octavia and Violet little attention as they went deeper into the stately house, away from the noise and commotion that Pinkie conjured. “So are you a friend of the Elements?”

“Yes. We met in Canterlot, purely by chance. I have been traveling with them since.”

“Funny how life works.”

“Yes.”

They entered a vast ballroom, empty but for the piano in the far corner. “We can find other instruments if you want—this was just the nearest one.”

“No, this is perfect,” Octavia said, going to the instrument eagerly. “I have not sat behind a piano in a very long time.”

Violet stood nearby while she tested the keys, listening carefully for imperfections. She played the scale, nodding to herself. Then she turned back to Violet.

“I must confess, I was not expecting such a warm reception. I thought that you were all unfriendly to strangers.”

“That’s the impression we work very hard to give off,” Violet said. “If you were part of the most powerful non-royal family in Equestria, you would want to scare ponies away as well.”

“That is very true.” She played a little more. “And do not worry; we will not go spreading word of your true natures.”

Violet sighed. “I appreciate it, I’m sure.”

“Is something the matter?” She keyed a quiet melody, more to give her hooves something to do than anything else.

“No, don’t worry about it. Go ahead, play. I’d love to hear you.”

Twilight, Fluttershy, and Vintage ate in the dining room. It had taken them considerable time to help Twilight out of bed and to the table, but she had insisted. The sun was setting, and no one talked much. Twilight still felt strange, like she was cornered. Fluttershy’s constant questions about her mental and physical state, and Vintage’s perplexed looks at their awkward interaction, sapped her confidence. She stared sullenly across the table as they ate.

“I know it hurts, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “But you’ll feel better soon.”

Twilight nodded. She didn’t even register what her friend had said, she had said it so many times already. It wasn’t the pain that bothered her. “Why can’t I just let it go?”

She looked at Vintage. Her brown coat was so much like the earth, Twilight couldn’t help but stare. “Just get over it, Twilight. Rarity got over her problems, why can’t you?” It eased her mind in a way she couldn’t describe to herself.

“So your friends went to the villa?” Vintage said. “It must be fascinating there.”

“Oh, I hope the family there is nice,” Fluttershy said. “We need more nice ponies.”

Twilight continued to eat, and stopped when she became aware of Fluttershy looking at her. She met her eyes slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

She grit her teeth in a smile, but as soon as she did it, she dropped it. “I’m drowning, Fluttershy. Not okay, not at all.” She sighed shakily. “You don’t have to keep asking about me, you know.”

Fluttershy recoiled slightly, blushing, and Vintage looked away politely. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I’m just worried.”

“Yeah, well, don’t be.” She looked down at her food. “Not okay, Fluttershy, and now I’ve gone and hurt you. Stupid, Twilight.” She tried to stand, and Vintage and Fluttershy immediately went to her side to help. She struggled off her seat and yanked a hoof away from them, a tiny act of defiance. She took a pained step away from the table, back to her bedroom, and Fluttershy followed her, her worried face downcast and obedient. She hated it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Fluttershy whispered.

Twilight’s eyes closed, and when she shouted, she surprised herself with the ferocity in her voice. “Leave me alone, Fluttershy!”

The room, and her head, went silent, and she felt suddenly, singularly trapped in the spotlights of their eyes. Fluttershy cringed and slunk away with a squeak of surprised hurt, and Twilight walked out of the dining room on her own. She heard Vintage give a derisive “hm” as she exited. Her mind was fiery with anger, at herself, at Fluttershy, at Vintage, and her thoughts were disordered. “Stupid Twilight stupid look what you did now they think you’re crazy. Crazy mare walking away from dinner what would your parents think well too bad I’m entitled I mean I am going crazy right?” She stopped at the door, the urge to turn back and shout one final message stuck in her tightening throat. She pushed the bedroom door open and lay down.

Pinkie, Applejack, and Rainbow returned from the villa at ten o’ clock, having left Rarity and Octavia to spend the night there. They were still excited from the party Pinkie had improvised; it had started small on the outer lawn, but it wasn’t long before it had ensnared the majority of the family. Coming back to Fluttershy and Twilight, for them, was an uncomfortable shock.

With Twilight still upset, only Applejack elected to share her room. They hardly spoke, and Twilight fell asleep full of guilt.