Colgate entered the library without knocking or otherwise announcing her presence. She searched, and, hearing Spike in the basement, waited in the main room, going through his books.

When he came out, he froze, and she tactfully avoided looking at him as he rushed to the kitchen for a dishtowel. Before he could manage more than confused half-sentences, she spoke. “I’m a Datura.”

“H-huh?”

“Datura, Spike. I am one.”

He came out and froze again. Her lips were swollen and black, a scab of dried blood clinging to the fur under her nostril.

“Go ahead and stare. Get it out of your system.”

“What in the world happened? Are you okay?”

“This is for you.” She floated a scrap of paper over to him, and he stared at her for a moment more before grabbing it.

“Tomorrow, you and Colgate will go to the field where you used to train. Zecora will return to her normal post, and Noteworthy will be transferred within the month. I am his replacement. Foxglove.” He looked up at her.

“Didn’t even cross your mind to read that silently, did it?” she asked.

“Uh…”

“Thanks for your help, Spike.”

“Huh?”

“You helped me a lot, and I thank you for it.”

“But… what?”

She limped out of the library, and did not look at him.

Applejack and Big Mac woke the others, as they had requested, as soon as Equestria’s desolate coastline came into view. The sun was coming up, but it was far from bright, and they could see only the play of shadow across dry rocks and sand. They had passed under the edge of one potential storm into a chasm of sunlight before a second one, where a large anvil of cloud malingered on their northwest side. They would be able to land in an hour’s time.

“So, here’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Rarity said. “This Element is at the bottom of the ocean.”

“How are we gonna get it?” Applejack completed.

“Well, yes, that too. What I was actually going to say, though, was how do we get down to the planet first?”

“I’m not certain we need to,” Twilight said, producing her map of Equestria. “On this map, you can clearly see a small section of the ocean is within Equestrian borders.” She glanced up as thunder mumbled far away. “And if the princesses are right, and the spell filled the borders, then it’s not unreasonable to think that this little bit of water got dragged up here too.”

“The same way the rivers did,” Fluttershy said.

“Exactly.” She glanced at Rainbow as she approached, a scroll clutched in her mouth. “Another one, really?”

“Hey, she’s worried,” Rainbow said.

Twilight rolled her eyes playfully as she sent Rainbow’s letter to Trixie. They had been exchanging notes, through Twilight, since the day of their departure.

“RD, you see anythin’ out there that might look like an ocean?” Applejack asked.

Rainbow trotted to the gunwale and leaned out, almost tipping herself over. “Yeah, that’s water all right.”

“Well there we go,” Rarity said. “But how do we get to the bottom?”

All eyes went silently to Twilight.

“What’s that?” Rainbow asked. She trotted to the front of the ship and leaned out again. They could see something dark in the middle of the distant thunderhead.

“Shiiiiiiiip!” Pinkie cried from behind, making them jump.

“Pinkie, don’t do that!” Applejack snapped.

“No, really! Look!”

The thunderhead parted around the center, and the dark form came into sharper relief. Head-on, they saw the familiar black sails over a familiar splinter of bowsprit, and the familiar, unreal lack of balloon.

“Get the others up here,” Twilight said, calm enforced by the sudden marathon her heartbeat performed in her chest.

“We’re not going to fight it, are we?” Rarity asked.

“We’re gonna slip past it,” Applejack said, turning them hard to port. “Just pretend we don’t exist.”

“Do you think that’ll work?” Fluttershy asked.

“Big Mac, take the turret facing the ship. Applejack, keep him trained on it, and be ready to engage the flamethrower under the figurehead,” Octavia said, marching purposefully across the deck, Rainbow and Big Mac behind.

“We’re not fighting it,” Rarity said. “At least, not if we can help it.”

“Why can’t we just say ‘hi’?” Pinkie asked quietly.

“Yeah, uh, I think she already has that in mind,” Rainbow said, pointing. The dark smudge of the ship had grown, but its edges were still flat, unarmed.

“Turn us, Applejack,” Octavia said.

“No! Just get us away!” Twilight cried. “Land us. Do something else.”

“If we do not prepare to fight now—”

“Then we might not get its attention. Applejack, angle us away.”

“Pinkie, some of that Pinkie Sense would sure be nice right now,” Rainbow said.

They glanced at Pinkie, who watched the ship with a slack expression. “Uhhhh… I dunno, girls.”

“Pinkie!”

“Turn us, Applejack,” Octavia growled.

“Don’t do it!” Twilight cried.

“Do it!”

“Shut up!” Rarity shrieked. “Celestia, you’re going to attract her with all the screaming at this point. Look. The ship is going on its way.” Where she extended her hoof, the ship had its side to them, its profile pointed slightly upwards and away.

“See, Octavia?” Twilight said.

A ringing crack cut off Octavia’s response, freezing her, open-mouthed and chagrinned. A ring of smoke drifted off the enemy ship’s side.

“Okay, Ah’m takin’ us down,” Applejack said.

“Big Mac, prepare to use that artillery,” Octavia commanded, moving to his side.

“Octavia, none of us know how that stuff works,” Rainbow said.

“What?”

“We’d never even seen it until we got this dang airship,” Applejack said.

“Are you… fine!” She growled again and tried to shove Big Mac out of the way, instead throwing herself to the side, where she clasped the rail and leaned out. “Bring us close.”

“It’s comin’ on its own,” Big Mac said, standing to grasp at the turret’s handles and turn it experimentally.

“Shoot. Come to my side, Twilight. I need your magic.”

As Twilight joined her, the ship drifted to their side, its own cannons braced and ready. Its deck was empty.

Octavia lowered her voice. “Twilight, can you do this with me?”

“Yes, Octavia,” Twilight said. She stared ahead, but shook her head; a blank stare, she knew, was a bad sign.

“It’s not doing anything,” Rarity whispered.

“Is it waiting for us to make the first move?” Rainbow asked.

“Pinkie, turn the torch on,” Octavia said. “Get us above it.” As Pinkie trotted to the torch, a shrouded figure stepped onto the deck. “Wait.”

“Who are you?” Big Mac hollered.

“We don’t want to be enemies!” Twilight added, selecting a shield spell in her mind anyway, to be called up in an instant, if needed.

The unicorn was wrapped from her eyes down in a dark green shawl, decorated with thin, white designs and glowing faintly. Her eyes were clear, green pools, and, through the shape of her brow and the fabric shrouding her mouth, were astoundingly gentle as she surveyed the Elements’ airship. Her stance, however, was strong and determined.

“Leave us be,” Octavia called. “Or come aboard, so we can talk.”

The unicorn walked to the edge of her ship and rested her hooves on the rail, showing more of her slender body. Despite the shawl, they could see that she was very thin, and not muscular. A rope of a tail bobbed up as she adjusted her weight on clean, shod hooves. Then, the cannons fired.

Everyone ducked at the sound of rupturing wood and plaster, though they had been hit below, rocking them slightly. Twilight was immediately alert, her shield out, though she knew she had reacted slowly. Most cannonballs had glanced off her magenta barrier, but a few had slipped in before she could activate it, and they were hit. Octavia was the second up, and she responded with a spell of her own, embracing the ship’s side in a lurid fire that sent one cannon tumbling immediately away in a spherical cloud of dislodged planks. To Twilight’s side, the machine gun produced a brief roar that forced them all to cover their ears and cringe away, and which left Big Mac recoiling onto the deck with a pirouette of alarm.

The turret smoked and ticked idly, a monster in its own right, and Big Mac approached it again, casting a fearful look at Octavia, who had her eyes fixed on the ship. Another orange bulb of fire uncurled from behind the cannons as they fired a second time. Their ship did not move, but Twilight flinched, a feeling like a needle striking the center of her forehead twisting her concentration. Something ground and protested below, in the machinery, and a brief peacock tail of smoke clouded the stormy sky behind.

Without being told, Big Mac grabbed the turret’s handles again and located the switch, his ears preemptively flattened on his skull. On his face, Twilight could see indecision, mirroring her own as she stood beside the only pony with a competent counterattack. The other ship hardly moved, and the silent mare gave no reaction to the fireballs lurching out of her own hull. A third retort of cannon fire battered their shield, and Rainbow and Pinkie shared a scream behind as it flickered. Big Mac fired.

Speckles of light filled the gap between the two as the jaw-rattling sound made Twilight swivel away again, nearly bumping into Octavia. She could see his entire body vibrating with kickback as he struggled to bring the weapon, a weapon Twilight had only read about, once, to face their enemy.

She tried to put the torrent of sound out of her mind. It was a skull-piercing drill of fast clatters, and she could feel the deck shaking under its enormous power, an earthquake in the sky. She glanced back at the aggressing pony just as a massive explosion tore the mainmast off its base. The mainsail, stippled with gray cloud through bullet holes, tipped and pitched sideways. Rigging snapped and twanged, but the pony didn’t move, even as the topsail swept past her to drape over the gunwale.

Octavia looked at Twilight, and Twilight reached for a different spell. The turret quieted with a hiss of steam and a gasp from Big Mac, and heat flowed out of her horn in a quick flash of effort. Magical fire, in the form of superheated air, shimmered through her shield to manifest in a sudden circle in the topsail, and she smiled, even as her shield collapsed into her head. She would bring it back later, but wanted to rest when she could. Octavia and Big Mac panted to her sides.

Her damage didn’t last. The sail, quickly a curtain of flame spreading down to the shattered, charred hull, whipped aside with a heavy snap and a ostentatious explosion of sparks. One corner was wrapped in a green mist of magic, and the swirl of flame and fabric twisted together into a spiral that, in a too-fast second, swept across the meager space to slap against their own perforated hull.

The sound was akin to a rushing ocean wave. The sail, huge and uneven, with flame wreathing pony-sized holes, growled and susurrated across their airship before catching on a stabilizing fin and pulling them suddenly forward and around with a rip of stressed cloth. All three of them stumbled to the side, and, when it was let go to fall to the ground, they were turned away from the aggressing, burning ship.

“Are we okay?” Applejack asked. Rainbow hopped over the rail to inspect the damage.

“It ain’t over,” Big Mac said. While they were recovering, the unicorn had positioned herself on the rail, one hoof wrapped in rigging. Twilight looked quickly at Octavia, resting with an exhausted, unfocused expression on the gunwale, and dodged to the turret’s other side to fire a small hive of fireballs, aiming carefully so they would land around, but not on, the enemy. She let them come, and the fire burst in small gouts all across the deck and side, framing the unicorn once again in shimmering air and heavy, bright fire. The unicorn only lit her horn, eyes meeting Twilight’s for a second.

With a flare of magic, bright and sudden as lightning, the entire damaged side of her ship was encompassed in a brilliant, green aura. The ship fell away slightly, and a deafening crack, like a tree uprooting, froze them. In a single, fierce motion, she ripped the hull away in one perforated piece, and slowly turned it in the air, as if to let them examine it. Small flames crawled along lines in the wood, smoke rising and ash falling, a massive, Tartarean claw.

“What is this?” Octavia said, and Twilight glanced at her. She leaned low on the rail, her mane frazzled and dirty, and her eyes looked defeated.

“Twilight!” Rarity yelped.

She looked up to see the blackening curve looming rapidly into them, a wall of hot air preceding the wall of hot wood. She backed away, throwing up her magenta curve to deflect it. It crashed only four feet away from their ship, from their balloon, with a sound somewhere between a scrape and a crash, chunks of it flying off to go past or slip over the shield’s edge and onto the deck. The bulk of the projectile, however, only bounced off, catching a corner on the aggressing ship’s exposed inner deck before tumbling, a smoldering ruin to land and go out on the rocky coast below.

“Twilight,” Big Mac sighed, pointing.

They faced half a ship. The inside was fully exposed, scant flames still licking at its tattered edge. She could see supplies, rooms, a bedroom even, and cannons on the other side, but no sign of machinery or magic that kept it mysteriously aloft. However, what drew Big Mac’s attention, and hers, was the slow, sliding panels of fresh wood, appearing seemingly from behind the damaged edges, and then each other. No sound accompanied their monotonous activity as, before her eyes, the damage that should have crippled the ship and sent it sinking to the ground like its ruined fragment repaired itself. The unicorn still stood on the banister, one hoof idly wrapped in rope, no magic coming from her horn. Twilight saw no bullet holes, even in the sails above, and while the mainmast still lay skewed across the enemy deck, she could see ropes already drawing inward like the frozen beginning of an ivy web.

Without warning, an explosion rocked the ship back as its helm burst outward. Twilight watched the wheel spin crazily up and back down, but the unicorn did not move, did not even look. Octavia slumped to the deck beside Twilight, and Big Mac, sparing one look of strained sympathy down to her, took a fresh hold of the turret to spray the ship’s healing side with more bullets, useless. Before Twilight could reorient herself with the sudden noise, the ship rotated, its motion immediate. No sail swayed, no rope twitched, but the unicorn was suddenly standing on the upper portion of the bowsprit, exposed with Octavia’s final spell, and looking directly at them with her impossible craft. The bullets stopped again, before restarting below the bowsprit, concentrating on the remaining, thin connective structure.

“Watch out!” Rainbow cried, flying back up. A single stain of black colored an orange tip of mane.

Twilight tensed and doubled the magic in her shield, expecting another cannon blast, another thump of pain as it contacted her magic, but nothing happened. She hesitated, then looked over the rail.

The ship’s side was restored, and the mainmast leaned unbelievably into a cradle of ropes, tilted a perilous forty degrees over the side. On the ship’s front, ensconced beneath the bowsprit and decorated with a simple, black spiral motif, a large gate was opening. She could see a thin, sulfurous trail leaking out of the circle’s nadir, and knew with a sudden, crushing certainty what was about to happen.

“Applejack, get us out of here,” she said without looking, her voice calm with enforced dread.

“Ah’m tryin’,” Applejack grunted. They slowly swung away, but Twilight kept her shield up, and before they could engage their turbines to attempt a speedy escape, her magic met something hot, intense, and heavy. Though the shield held, it did so only five feet off the rails, and the burst of intangible heat so close to the sudden wall of molten metal could not be stopped entirely. Thick, yellow-white liquid dripped to the ground, its heat and weight forcing Twilight’s eyes closed to keep her shield from shifting. Merely keeping it from breaking, she knew, was no good; even a small leak or change would invite flaming disaster, whether in driblets of liquid fire or a torrent, it mattered little. She crouched, painfully aware of the heat on her bent head, not sure whether it was her exerted horn or the melted metal feet away.

When the pressure let up, she opened her eyes and stood. They were moving away slowly, their engine chugging unhealthily; it was the ship’s attack that had stopped. Glowing shards of flame dripped from the ship’s demonic gate, and heat rose from below. The pony walked to the tip of the bowsprit and watched them, loose ends of her shawl flapping in the air like an open-limbed taunt, but there was no pursuit. Big Mac helped Twilight up while Rainbow and Pinkie dragged Octavia away from the rail. The shield was still up.

“What do we do if she comes after us?” Applejack asked.

“Surrender,” Rarity said.

“Seriously.”

“Yes, dear. We surrender.”

“Never mind. There it goes,” Pinkie said. Twilight looked up in time to see the last thread of glowing metal fall to the ground, pointing after the ship, already gone. It had headed south.

“Everypony okay?” Applejack asked.

“I think so,” Twilight said. In the brief interlude of movement away from the rail, her shield had collapsed, leaving her with a small headache.

“The ship’s not looking so hot, though,” Rainbow said.

“How bad?”

“We’re leaking water, for one thing.”

“How large a hole?” Rarity asked.

“Pretty huge. It’s not a simple patch job.”

“Well, we’re landin’ anyway,” Applejack said. “We’ll do what we can when we’re on the ground.”

“Don’t go too close to the edge,” Twilight said, staring into the clouded distance. Their small patch of sun was sliding away, and sunlight had again turned pale. “It’s all unsupported sand down there. We don’t want to slide off.”

“Well, great, thanks for making me imagine that,” Rainbow said.

“I’m just saying.”

“She’ll be fine, Fluttershy. She just tired herself out,” Rarity said. Fluttershy crouched over Octavia, asleep.

“She didn’t sleep last night,” Big Mac said.

“How d’ya know?” Applejack asked.

“Ah stayed up with her fer a while. She played her cello fer me. She’s really good.”

“Ah thought Ah heard somethin’ last night. Okay, get ready fer a bumpy landin’ now. Ah think one of our turbines is shot, so we’ll be uneven.” The ship skidded loosely into rock and rough sand, still held together on firmer terrain and patches of grass. For a moment, it sounded like one turbine would not shut off, but then the ship rested. They disembarked to inspect the damage.

“Oh, wow. That’s… better than I was expecting, actually,” Rarity said.

“Better?” Rainbow cried.

“You said the leak was huge, darling.”

“Well, huge by certain standards.”

“Big Mac an’ Ah can have that fixed up in an hour or two,” Applejack said. “As fer the rest of it… shoot, Ah dunno.” Though they had not suffered more than a couple small, localized fires on the hull, the side of their ship resembled a moldering piece of bark, frayed rings of splinters ornamenting a pair of holes to the empty spaces or machinery within.

“There are shipyards further east of here,” Octavia said weakly.

“O-kay, I guess you’re awake again,” Rainbow said.

“Sorry. I thought you knew.”

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. Is everyone else?”

“We’re all fine,” Rarity said. “Shaken, but okay.”

“So that was the ship y’all told me about, Ah assume?” Big Mac asked.

“That’s it,” Twilight said.

“We have never fought it, though,” Octavia said.

“Couldn’t help but notice it can regenerate,” Big Mac said.

“Yeah, that happens,” Rainbow said. “So, Octavia, shipyards?”

“Assuming that they are undamaged, we can try to fly there for repairs.”

“‘Try’ is the operative word there,” Applejack said. “Landin’ us was kinda tricky. Ah dunno if Ah wanna try movin’ us like this.”

“Would it help if we drained the water?” Twilight asked. “You know, so you don’t have a constantly changing center of gravity?”

“Could.”

“Twilight, we filled this thing up a couple days ago,” Rainbow said. “We can’t just drain it all. What’ll we use to replace it? Seawater?”

“Actually, Rainbow, seawater—provided that it’s clean—can do wonders to your coat. It helps to replenish vital chemicals and minerals that we need to have lustrous fur,” Rarity said.

“I don’t want to get seawater in my eyes.”

“Why would you get seawater in your eyes?” Pinkie asked. “I’d think you’d want it on your body!”

“I don’t do it on purpose! I just tend to get, you know, stuff in my eyes when I shower.”

“Oh my gosh! Dashie, are you serious! Do you get shampoo in your eyes too?”

“Well, doesn’t everyone?”

“From time to time, sure,” Twilight said.

“What? Are y’all out of yer minds?” Applejack said. “Am Ah the only pony here who doesn’t get her own cleanin’ supplies in her face? It’s not hard, girls.”

“Shipyard,” Octavia growled.

“Do you get shampoo in your eyes, Octavia?” Pinkie asked.

“It has happened in the past.”

“Are you kiddin’?” Applejack asked. “You ponies are crazy. Anyway, Ah reckon Ah can get us there, but it’ll be tough.”

“And the water?” Twilight asked.

“How far is the nearest shipyard?”

“A few hours away,” Octavia said.

“Eh, let’s see how it goes, an’ if Ah need it, we can do it later. It ain’t like it’s not already happenin’.”

“So that’s it? We just landed after this huge battle, and it’s back on the ship?” Rainbow asked.

“You should exercise more discretion with that word, darling,” Rarity said, eyeing the leak in the ship’s hold.

“Fly alongside us,” Octavia said. “We will be going slower anyway.”

Twilight jerked a little as a letter spurted from her horn.

“I think I’ll stay on board for now,” Rainbow said, snatching it and flying up over the rail.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Rarity said.

Rainbow was so intent on reading Trixie’s letter that she almost tripped over the miniature pillar of salt standing freely just inside the doorway.

Dear Dashie, that’s great to hear. I know he’s got his eye on you, so you’ll have to forgive me if I worry sometimes. I’ve always wanted to see the coast. I don’t suppose one of you thought to bring a camera on this grand quest?

Any idea how you’re going to get the Element yet? I’ve got nothing still, except trying to make a shield bubble, but I know Rarity can’t do anything with that injured horn.

Sorry. I shouldn’t be so negative. You’ve made it to the coast! The next Element! I think Pinkie’s right, you should celebrate.

Not much new here. I got a fan letter today that was meant for Twilight, but addressed to me. I think they thought we lived together. They really liked her development into a villain (don’t tell her, but I think it was average at best).

Manehattan’s not doing so great, though. Someone set off a cloud of bees in a fudge shop a couple miles from my apartment, and accusations are flying. All you can hear on the radio is speculations on who’s responsible for what. Strawberry, Lacey, and that DJ Octavia saved, all of their names are coming up. I don’t know what to make of any of it.

It’s not heartless to be happy to be away from Canterlot right now, Dashie. I know I’m glad to be so far from that mess. I don’t care what Celestia says, it’s going to be bedlam when Discord lands. You just focus on your job away from the center of violence, okay?

Be careful, Rainbow. There’s no way there isn’t some weird setup around this Element. Discord is sneaky. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but still. Be careful.

Warmly, The Great and Powerful Trixie

She stowed the letter in between the pages of one of Twilight’s books with the others, and turned around at the sound of a bag shuffling.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” She looked at what Fluttershy was going through. “Studying magic?”

“I think I should. Octavia has been. Why not me?”

“Right, yeah. I forgot, you’re supposed to be powerful.”

“Um… yes, Princess Celestia thought so.”

Rainbow nodded, and her eyes went to the white prism on the floor. “What the heck is that?”

“I was going to ask you.”

“Not mine.” She went to it, and Fluttershy levitated it clumsily to rest on the bed. They took turns turning it over in their hooves.

“There’s something engraved,” Fluttershy said. “On all sides. ‘Approaching storm’.”

“Oh, it’s another stupid, cryptic Discord thing.”

“Another warning?”

“It’s like when he sends Twilight letters, that’s all. Throw it off the edge.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the last time we ignored something this, um, overt, it was those sigil halves in Trottingham.”

Rainbow held the salt block to the pale yellow light and lay back on the bed.

“We can’t just dismiss him anymore, Dash. It’s a nice gesture of self-aggrandizement, but we have to be honest.”

“This isn’t a game.”

The ship lurched, and Applejack called out. “It’s all right, it’s all right!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hate giving him the satisfaction, though.”

“He’ll be much more satisfied if he defeats us with a silly trap,” Fluttershy said.

“Right.” She let the salt roll out of her hooves onto the sheet. “Wonder why it’s salt.”

“I’m going to take it up to Twilight.”

Rainbow turned over and dragged the book over to the bed to look through her tiny collection of letters. She had felt weird, at first, scrawling such long notes with her hooves and mouth, and for no reward except a response from some mare she had shared a couch with. Her own writing was jagged and unevenly spaced, and looked like the product of extreme duress or drunkenness next to Trixie’s unicorn-horn script. Every time she got a reply, though, her self-consciousness faded.

“You found it on the floor?” Octavia asked, making Rainbow jerk and snap the book shut.

“Will you stop that?”

“I am sorry.”

“Celestia, you’re even quieter than usual today.” She slid the book under the bed and sat up. “What’s going on with you?”

“Never mind that.”

“Whatever.” She flopped back. “Yeah, right on the floor. It says ‘approaching storm’ on the sides. It’s carved in.”

“I saw it.”

“So what do you want me for? It’s just a stupid block, and you know as much as I do.”

“I am sorry.” She moved for the door.

“Wait, Octavia.” She frowned, almost ready to restrain herself. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“That is fine.” She was gone as quickly as she had come in, and Rainbow put her face into the pillow.

She woke up with Pinkie colliding into her in a squealing, wiggling pile and a chorus of laughter beside the bed. She struggled awake with a snarl of surprise, and Pinkie climbed off after a moment more.

It was three o’ clock, and they had made it to a shipyard. She went out and followed the group off the ship to a dry crater, floored with fragments of shells. An evaporated tide pool, Twilight said. Their bags were all there, heaped against a small castle of graying coral.

“So what are we gonna do?” Rainbow asked.

Octavia had her cello out, and began one of the tunes she had used in Trixie’s show a week ago. “Wait for the workers here to repair our ship. They said it should be complete tomorrow afternoon.”

“So we’re just stuck here until then?”

“It’ll give us time to figure out what to do with this,” Twilight said, floating the salt pillar around their heads. She frowned at Pinkie. “Aside from season our meals with it.”

“I can be patient,” Pinkie said with a small smile.

“Did you find anything out about it?” Rainbow asked.

“Nothing helpful,” Twilight said.

“It’s just regular salt,” Rarity said. “The only thing different about it is that, apparently, it’s been magically shaped.”

“And engraved on,” Octavia said, not opening her eyes from her performance.

“But I’ve got no idea where it came from, or how it got in the room,” Twilight said. “But, it also doesn’t seem like a threat. It’s creepy, and that’s it.”

Rainbow looked at Fluttershy, who blushed. “I already shared my concerns.”

“Personally, I think we should proceed with caution. I am going to go exploring when I have grown tired of playing,” Octavia said.

Rarity sighed. “Octavia, dear—”

“This is the abandoned coastline, not the big city. Besides, knowing you all, I will not be alone.”

“Nope,” Big Mac said, shaking his head.

“We got a warnin’ from Discord earlier this mornin’, an’ yer talkin’ ‘bout wanderin’ off,” Applejack said. “On the same day we were attacked by that dang ghost ship.”

“Is this another screw the consequences thing?” Rarity asked.

“No,” Octavia said. “It is an ‘I have been cooped up on the ship for days and want to stretch my legs’ thing.”

“We’ll stay in sight,” Rainbow said.

Applejack considered. “All right, fine. If ya need me, Ah’ll be seein’ if Ah can help those repairponies.”

“Oh! Oh! Me too! Me too!” Pinkie cried.

Octavia smiled as she drug her bow across the instrument one last time. “You enjoy yourselves.”

Outside the ring of warm sand that marked the beginning of the coastline, thinned by gravity and wind and no tides to replenish what was lost, Octavia, Big Mac, and Rainbow climbed between rocks to a low, grassy ridge. Beyond, they could see the flat, monotonous grasslands that separated Equestria’s coastal area from nearby Fillydelphia and Hoofington, to the southeast and southwest.

No wind stirred the field, and the sun was out again, and warm. The smell of salt still lingered faintly, coming from the sand that remained. A short fence hemmed the distance. Far along the coast, where a great bulb of water hung like an overlarge jewel, a dark mushroom of water vapor spread into a low-hanging cloud fortress. The siphoning station, and keystone of Celestia’s efforts to bring weather back under ponies’ control.

“Well, this is… great,” Rainbow said.

“Ah’m just happy to get some grass beneath my hooves,” Big Mac said.

“Yeah. Hey, Octavia? Sorry for snapping at you earlier today.”

“I told you, it is fine.”

“I thought you were being sarcastic.”

She trailed a hoof through a stalk of dried grass. “I was. Now, though, I mean it.”

“Oh.” She looked around, quickly regretting her decision to walk with them, and not just fly alone.

“How is Trixie?”

“She’s fine. Getting by.”

“Good.”

Rainbow looked at her, sitting in the grass with her eyes closed. Her breathing was slow and measured, but Rainbow could tell she was not asleep. “I’m still not used to it, though. This whole ‘being in a relationship’ thing.”

“Is that what you are calling it?” Octavia asked.

“What do you mean? Of course. What else would it be?”

“My understanding was that you had shared the couch, and each others’ saliva, but that was it. I was not aware that there were deeper feelings involved.”

“Hey, I don’t just shack up with anypony, okay? There’s something there. There… I mean, there has to be.”

“How can you know?” Big Mac asked. “You were both drunker’n a rat in a cider barrel.”

“Has that happened?” Octavia asked.

“Nope. Just an expression.”

“I knew what I was doing!” Rainbow said. “I did then, anyway. I mean… ugh, how do I explain it? My body was drunk, but my mind was sober.”

Octavia smirked. “Drunk sex is one of the greatest pleasures in life, but only if it is with someone who understands how meaningless the act is.”

“Yeah, we get it, Octavia, you’ve been around.”

“What I mean is, there is no reason for you to feel ashamed of something you did in the grip of drunkenness. If it was a pleasant experience, then what is the harm?”

“I dunno.”

“So you two’re datin’?” Big Mac asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” She turned her back to the shipyard and sat on a rock. “Er, maybe not ‘dating.’ Since it’s long distance, you know?”

“But you consider yourselves a couple,” Octavia said.

“Yeah.”

“Congrats,” Big Mac said.

“How will you deal with the distance?” Octavia asked.

“Well, we’re trading letters back and forth, and that seems to be working fine,” Rainbow said.

“I see. I would like to caution you about that, though.”

“I know, I know. Distance kills relationships, yadda yadda yadda.”

“It does, though. Some ponies like to think that if a relationship can be ended by the lack of physical rewards, then it is superficial, and that is not so. You two are bound to miss each other, no matter how many letters pass between.”

“Gee, thanks for the encouragement. It means a lot to me especially since I can’t go back to her until this freaking adventure is over.”

“I am sorry,” Octavia said. She lay down and nestled herself in the grass. “It is hot out here.”

“She’s just bein’ honest with ya,” Big Mac said quietly.

“Yeah, I know,” Rainbow said. “Like I said, this is all really weird for me.”

“You like her, though. That is a good start,” Octavia said.

“Uh… isn’t that kind of the idea?”

“You would be surprised. Ponies do not always get together because they like each other.”

“No, I know that! I—I said it wrong. I mean… I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“You do like her, right?” Big Mac asked.

“Of course. But…” She paced and scared a grasshopper out of the weeds. “I realize I don’t really know her. I’m not sure I’d even be comfortable calling her my friend yet.”

“Then this is the perfect opportunity to… get to know her,” Octavia said. “Oh, Celestia.”

“Something wrong?” Big Mac asked.

“Hot.”

“Come on, get out of that grass,” Rainbow said, pulling her bodily out. Her fur was dark with sweat.

“I need water.”

“Right.” Rainbow took off for the ship, and returned a minute later with a canteen, which she helped Octavia drink.

“What is this?” Big Mac asked.

“Her mane is so dark, she gets lightheaded if it’s too hot. You wanna go back, Octy?”

“Do not call me that, and no. Let me stay.”

“Whatever.” She grinned and sat down, and, for a long time, the only sounds were the others’ low conversation and the clatter and clunk of ship workers. Their own airship was a jagged, spinal torpedo beached in a swale of light brown sand, with large, gruff-looking ponies moving about behind, some with chains or other tools, many unadorned. Applejack was not visible, but Pinkie flitted from place to place, earning impatient looks and laughs both wherever she went.

“Y’ever use those turrets before?” Big Mac asked.

“I hardly paid attention to them,” Rainbow said. “That’ll probably change now.”

“I have been curious about them since we bought the ship,” Octavia murmured. “But no.”

“How was it?”

Big Mac didn’t answer immediately. He looked back to the empty space where an ocean had once moved, face devoid of effort or clear consideration. “It’s weird.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“It’s too much destructive potential fer one pony to operate. Ah’ve seen magic, an’ Ah’ve seen pulse crystals—used one, even.”

“Pulse crystals?”

“Imagine the turret, but smaller, portable, and it shoots magic instead of bullets,” Octavia said.

“Oh, that’s what they’re called. Trixie has one.”

“But there ain’t no comparison,” Big Mac continued. “Ah felt like Ah coulda ripped the planet in half with that thing, if Ah didn’t rip myself in half first.”

“Is it that powerful?”

“The kickback woulda sent you flying.”

She frowned. “Is that a challenge?”

“Stop,” Octavia said. “They are not to be trifled with, Dash.”

“Psh. Whatever. It’s not like I’m gonna spray the countryside with ‘em or anything. I’m not that stupid.”

Octavia grinned, but said nothing.

“Ah don’t ever wanna touch those things again, or their like,” Big Mac said. “Ah only did it today ‘cause Ah was overwhelmed.”

“It was an overwhelming situation,” Octavia said. “You did fine. Everyone did.”

“We just hid in the back, though,” Rainbow said.

“But nobody freaked out, and nobody caused undue difficulty.” She turned over in the grass and sighed. “We are all getting more accustomed to things like this now.”

“I bet you’re pretty happy about that.”

“I am.”

“Was that a problem before?” Big Mac asked.

“Octavia got mad at us for not pulling our weight a couple towns ago,” Rainbow said.

“I had my reasons, and I stand by them.”

“No, I’m not saying you were wrong. I never did.”

“Ah. Yes. I am just relieved that we seem to be learning to take care of ourselves. Even Twilight.”

A long silence turned over among them, to the sounds of labor and conversation a short distance away. “She didn’t flash back, you mean,” Rainbow said quietly.

“That is what I mean.” Octavia paused. “I only hope that it is a sign of recovery, and not atrophy.”

“Am Ah missin’ somethin’?” Big Mac asked.

“It is not my place to say. Ask one of the girls.”

He looked at Rainbow, and she got up. “Yeah, okay. You’ll be all right here, Octavia? I wanna take a walk.”

“I will be fine.”

The two of them walked along the fence toward a small shelf of rocks over another collection of dead tide pools. On the other side of the ridge, the others sat around the pillar of salt while Pinkie distracted the workers and Applejack worked on a hole, which had stopped leaking water an hour ago.