For the first time in a long time, Rainbow Dash stayed in her room to write. Her work, mostly forgotten, had suddenly sprung back into her mind at the sight of the ruined dam and its lake. The static scene, and the obviousness of the power used not long ago, had excited her all the way until when she stared at the blank page.

By the time they were touching down in Trottingham, she had forgotten about it again.

“At least it’s warmer up here,” Rarity said, bundling her scarf closer around her neck. “Relatively speaking.”

“Ah expect Ah know where we need to go after this,” Applejack said, guiding the airship to an overgrown lot set in the middle of an untended field of yellow grass.

“Somewhere cold.”

“Snowdrift,” Twilight said, walking up behind them. “It’s the only major town we haven’t visited yet, and, with its reputation, I’d be surprised if we don’t find the final Element there. Oh, um, Fluttershy? It is still here, right?”

“I’d have told us before now if it weren’t,” Fluttershy said, sitting against the torch. “Um, no offense. Sorry. Yes, Twilight, it’s still here.” She sighed and looked to the south. She could still see the topmost curve of the dam between ragged, narrow plateau edges, the edges that widened to form the fertile valley where Trottingham had been settled.

From high above, Trottingham had looked largely unhurt, a pastoral paradise with only a touch of desolation. From that distance, they couldn’t see the houses overgrown and left to nature. They hadn’t seen the enormity of the lack of carts and airships that had once filled the city’s roads and skyways. On their strip of parking lot, theirs was the only airship, theirs the only draft of air to push back encroaching grass and whip up the floor of dust and debris that had been carried and patched to the concrete by months of uncontrolled wind and rain.

A pale web of roads converged at the ruins of the Astras’ villa, cleft and smashed by Thunderhead so long ago. Some effort had been taken to tear down the larger pieces, but the walls still mostly stood, their decorations faded but visible. Columns still rose to support unattached pieces of ceiling, or just themselves, and the central fountain in the courtyard was dry. The hedge maze had become a dark sponge, its top completely hidden from the sky in places. Trees burst from the topiary cages in several places, themselves mossy and gnarled.

When they stepped off the last stone stair into a sickly lawn, and their ship’s propellers had stopped, each pony took a second to take in the great silence that greeted them. In the time since their departure, it seemed every inch of space in the city had given way to a sea of grass. Stalks, like feelers, rose from the carpet in places, landing places for butterflies and smaller flying insects.

“Out here?” Rarity asked.

“It’s close,” Fluttershy said. “Or at least, close-ish. We do have a little walking ahead of us.” She started pushing through the grass, and the others marched after her, plodding a slow course north.

They walked for an hour before seeing the first sign that they were not alone in the city, and another half hour before reaching it. Rising up on an awkward, metal tripod, a rough trough leaned to one side, looking as if it might topple off at any moment. It was crudely painted in orange and white stripes, and a pair of chains ran up its back to connect at the elevated underside opposite its tilting mouth.

Just beside, shaded by the precarious trough, there sat an adobe building, in its windows ponies who paid the approaching Elements no mind until they were right outside. One engaged Rainbow in a staring contest as the others passed, assured by Fluttershy that their prize was still farther along.

“That’s a rain collector,” Vinyl said. As they passed the building, they saw a checkerboard of slender, white pipes with green spigots covering the bare, cracked ground. “It’s part of The Water Loop.”

“Haven’t heard of it,” Rainbow said.

“Ah have,” Applejack said. “Luna told me ‘bout it when we were flyin’ over. It ain’t been here long.”

“Is it just what it sounds like?” Rarity asked.

“The trough catches rain, the pipes take water out of the soil, what seeps in. That mountain, there? Everything gets pumped over there,” Vinyl said.

“That’s where the ponies are, mostly,” Applejack said. “Holed up on the mountainside, where the aqueducts used to be. Well, they’re still there, Ah guess.”

“Dysfunctional, now.”

“Yeah, they’re dried up.”

“Did the princesses set this up?” Fluttershy asked.

“No, actually,” Applejack said. “Oh, sorry, Vinyl. Go ahead.”

Vinyl waved her off.

“Just some enterprisin’ businesspony, that’s all. Came on in, got all the workers together, an’ set this whole thing up. Ah s’pose she must be the most loved pony this side of the Everfree.”

“That’s incredible,” Twilight said.

“If I didn’t join up with you, I was probably gonna move out here,” Vinyl said. “See what I could do to help the cause.”

Twilight looked at her without reply.

As the pipes tapered off, Fluttershy led them around the rim of the encroaching grass to a flat trail, clearly the path the workers used to reach their office.

“That’s convenient,” Rainbow said.

“I don’t think ‘convenient’ is the right word,” Rarity said, raising a shield. “Does anyone else suddenly feel exposed?”

“I never feel exposed.”

“I don’t see anything,” Twilight said. “But that’s not a bad idea. Every Element so far has been unpleasant.”

“No reason why this should be any different,” Vinyl said, and Twilight looked at her again.

Though it was mid-afternoon, the wind was still cool, and a bank of clouds was approaching fast, threatening rain.

“Those collectors are gonna have some work soon,” Rainbow said.

“‘Cause most ponies live in one spot here, the mountain,” Vinyl said. “But the rain falls all over. They don’t wanna waste any on crops that no one’s tending.”

“I think it’s in one of those,” Fluttershy said. She didn’t have to point. Dead ahead, there sat a semicircle of shabby houses, much resembling, in Vinyl and Big Mac’s mind, the ramshackle buildings they had seen in Discord World.

“What a life,” Twilight said. “Who’d want to commit to something like this?”

“Someone with no other options,” Vinyl said.

“Point taken.”

“And one of those saps has our Element?” Rainbow asked. “How’s that work?”

“We’ll see,” Rarity said, pushing ahead, her shield gleaming in the sunlight.

It took only a moment for Fluttershy to locate the correct house. Close to the edge of the semicircle, its door a simple trio of planks lashed together, one of its windows a wide hole in the wall and another a foggy porthole from some ship, roughly screwed into the wooden siding, their house released a thin trail of smoke from an ugly, narrow pipe chimney that seemed simply jammed into the roof, a skewer keeping the house pinned to the ground.

“Get ready to fight, or run for it,” Twilight said, “but also be ready for some random stranger to be afraid of us. Okay?” She looked at each of them, lingering on Rarity the longest, and knocked.

The pony within made no effort to conceal herself as she rose to get the door, but there was a significant pause when her shadow finally reached its bottom. A tired, familiar voice spoke from within.

“What could I have possibly done to deserve you lot coming around here, of all places?”

Rarity gasped. “You!”

“Whoa, hold on, Rare,” Applejack said, putting a hoof on Rarity’s back.

“Yes, hello, Rarity,” the voice said. “I’m not opening this door until all those little horns go dim.”

“Scared we might hurt you?” Rarity asked, eyes narrowed at the door.

“Of course I’m scared. I’d be stupid not to be.”

“Um, excuse me?” Vinyl asked. “Who is this? What is this?”

“You replaced Octavia with this white one?” the voice asked. “She was the only one I liked."

“Lacey, dammit, open the door,” Twilight said. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

Rarity looked askance at Twilight.

“Rarity, take the shield down.”

“She might have a pulse crystal behind that door,” Rarity said. “Maybe something worse.”

“You wanna know what I have behind this door? A bathrobe and a cup of hot chocolate,” Lacey sad.

“Twilight…”

“This is stupid,” Lacey said, swinging the door open halfway, then scraping it the rest of the way across the floor. “Look, here, unarmed and non-dangerous.” She looked back to a lawn chair beside a radio, a steaming mug balanced on its arm. “Okay, fine, I lied. It’s a mug, not a cup.”

“How in Tartarus does she have it?” Rarity asked, putting her glare on Fluttershy.

“Good to meet again,” Applejack said, shrugging.

“No it’s not,” Lacey said. She was thinner than before, more haggard. In Manehattan, her mane had been perfectly trimmed and glossy, her coat soft and skin-short. Standing before them, thousands of miles farther south than months ago, she looked as though she had aged ten years; her fur was patchy and tufted in places, her mane frizzy. Her eyes had not lost their luster, but the youth was gone from them. “I assume this is important. I know you’re just as unhappy to see me as I am you.” She looked to Vinyl and shook her hoof. “Good to meet you. I’m Lacey Kisses, basically the worst pony in the history of the world. I’ll put a knife in your back if you let me.”

“Um… Vinyl Scratch. Good to see you,” Vinyl said.

Lacey sat down and looked at them, her eyes occasionally flicking to Rarity, who stood by, calm, but ice in her eyes.

“You have something we need,” Twilight finally said.

“Okay,” Lacey said.

They exchanged looks.

“Spit it out, heroes of Equestria. Tell me what it is I allegedly have, so we can put this meeting to an end and I can go back to dreading my next days in peace.”

“What’s wrong?” Vinyl asked.

“No one cares,” Rarity said. “The Element of Harmony. Bring it out now, and we’ll leave you alone.”

Lacey stared at her. “That almost made me laugh.”

“We know you have it,” Twilight said. “We have a spell that leads us to any Elements, if there are any nearby.”

“And it led you here, to my shed?”

“We’re not here for a social visit,” Rainbow said.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have it, or anything.”

“Lies,” Rarity said. “Typical.”

“What would I gain by lying? If I had an Element, I wouldn’t hoard it. Look at where I live. Look at this place, really.” She gestured at her imperfect door, at the rough floors, at the lawn chair that appeared to be her only furniture. “I’d sell it so fast, my eyes’d spin.”

“Favor with Discord,” Big Mac said. “You’d be doin’ him a favor by keepin’ one of the Elements hidden.”

“Yes, and see how favored I am,” Lacey said, again gesturing around. “I don’t know, truly.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we looked around your house,” Twilight said.

“As it happens, I would actually mind that very much. How do I know this Element business isn’t a ploy, hm?”

“Yer outnumbered, seven to one,” Applejack said. “An’ it ain’t. Ah’m tellin’ you, it ain’t.”

Lacey sighed and let them pass. “Thought I’d at least get in one good remark before you forced me aside.” She threw up a hoof. “Go on, dig in, do whatever you want to do. I won’t try to stop you.”

“You can’t,” Rarity said, stepping into the shed’s humid air.

“Spare me the acid, Rarity. I want at least a little of my dignity if I make it to Canterlot.”

“What’s in Canterlot?” Twilight asked, guarding the door while Fluttershy and the others went through her house.

“A fresh start. My fourth.”

“Wasted,” Rarity said from across the room.

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“Last I heard, you were in Applewood.”

“Yes, well, circumstances changed. I’m sure you know more about it than me. So, despite my better judgment, I’m finding myself heading north once again.”

“Why?”

“No matter of yours,” Lacey sighed.

The others disappeared around a corner, but Vinyl doubled back. She looked at Lacey for a minute, and Lacey turned to give Vinyl the less patchy side of her face.

“Don’t seem evil to me,” Vinyl eventually said.

“It happened a while ago,” Twilight said.

“So you’re telling me you found me all the way out here, not for revenge, but for one of your little jewels,” Lacey said.

“Like I said, we have a spell—”

“I don’t see how I could have one, though. All my life, I’ve done nothing but distance myself from the princesses’ grand schemes.”

Twilight didn’t reply, though she was rankled by Lacey’s choice of words.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Rainbow asked, returning with the Element of Loyalty around her neck.

“What?” Lacey asked, tired. “Wait, you found it? What?”

“You had a whole chest of ‘em,” Big Mac said.

Lacey thought for a second, remembering. “Oh, those. Those are modeling props. I used them in Applewood for a stint.”

“Modeling?” Fluttershy asked.

“A stint?” Applejack asked.

“There’s money for a pretty mare wearing the various Elements. I’m pretty, and my photographer had a bunch of plastic Elements lying around.” She brought herself up to her full height, almost as tall as Big Mac. “And no, Rarity, I didn’t know there was a real one mixed in. I wouldn’t have shoved it in a box if I did.”

Twilight turned to look at Vinyl, who was chuckling. “It is kinda funny,” Vinyl said.

“At least this one was painless,” Applejack said. “An’ you kept it clean fer us.”

“It’s dusty,” Rainbow said. “Not that I care.”

“All right, all right, get out,” Lacey said. “You had your fun, you found your treasure, and you were able to torture me a little for good luck. Leave me alone.” She hesitated. “Please."

“What are you even doing here?” Twilight asked, still studying her. While the others filed toward the door, Big Mac with a calming hoof on Rarity’s wither, she watched Lacey’s face. The eyes were sunken and quick, and she carried herself with a slouch and a slight forward tilt of the head. Her mouth was a flat line that betrayed no emotion—a skill that had not changed from Manehattan—but her pupils were slowly widening again as the others crossed out into the grass.

“Like I said, none of your business,” Lacey said.

“You’re working for The Water Loop.”

“Was working.”

Vinyl looked at Twilight, eyebrows contracted.

“And that’s why I’m so eager to get you all out,” Lacey said, gently pushing Twilight toward the door. “I don’t intend to spend what may be last days ducking you lot.”

“Last days?” Vinyl echoed at the door.

“No job, no prospects, too little money. Good day.” The door scraped, then slammed.

Above, Rainbow and Fluttershy were celebrating the acquisition of the penultimate Element.

The pegasi remained above as they walked back to the ship, but both landed early to tell Twilight that there was a stranger waiting by the lot. A car was parked nearby, mired in the grass.

With Rarity’s shield up once more, they approached the airship lot with confidence they didn’t feel. To Twilight’s mind, it was yet another unwelcome iteration of the lesson they had learned early on: picking up an Element was never simple.

His sleek, black car was visible first, its silver grille a striking mouth of needles amidst the dry grass, its shining, aerodynamic hood a menacing slice of shadow. The pony who owned it met them in the middle, using his magic to flatten a wide circle in the grass for them to see one another.

His coat was a deep, ocean blue, and his two-tone mane an eye-popping contrast of orange and fleshy pink, short licks interwoven to resemble a cap of wrinkled skin adhering to the back of his head from a distance. He wore simple, brown trousers with a dusty, white jacket and a bola tie, white stones on the rim and turquoise in the middle, with a fleck of onyx in the middle of that: an eye. A lone pulse crystal swung comfortably on his right flank.

“Well Ah’ll tell ya, Ah was a mite worried y’all wouldn’t be comin’ back ‘til dark,” he said, pushing up his Stetson and going to shake each of their hooves. “Name’s Whippoorwill. Pleasure to make yer acquaintance.”

“I’m assuming you already know who we all are,” Twilight said.

“Course, ma’am.”

“And how did you know where to find us? We haven’t been off this ship for more than the afternoon,” Rarity said.

“And we’re not staying for more than that either,” Rainbow said. “We’ve got places to be.”

“Now now, at least hear me out, ladies,” Whippoorwill said smoothly, but without the cordial grin he used to greet them. “Ah’m representin’ my good friend, Gold Ribbon. You know the name?”

“I can’t say as we’ve had the pleasure,” Twilight said, looking at her friends.

“You will.”

“How ‘bout you cut to the chase, cowpony?” Applejack asked.

“What does this Gold Ribbon want with us?” Twilight asked.

“Ah don’t presume to speak fer him,” Whippoorwill said, adjusting his tie. His dark eyes searched the group, and his mane, momentarily caught in the sunset, appeared as a wild coronet of flame. “He’s very interested in settin’ up a meetin’ with y’all, though.”

“He should have come himself, then. As it happens, we’re not staying.” Twilight took a step toward Whippoorwill, who stood his ground. “We were actually leaving in the next few minutes.”

Whippoorwill sighed. “Ah don’t think that’s so good an idea, Mizz Sparkle. Ya see, my friend, Gold Ribbon, just so happens to be the one in charge of this here Water Loop. Ya familiar with that name?”

“We are,” Rarity said.

“He’s a pony of many fine talents, but he don’t take rebuffs too easy. Now, s’much as Ah’d love to see y’all off on yer ways, Ah know Gold Ribbon wouldn’t like it. Might not sit well with him, are you understanding me?”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Twilight said, starting to walk.

“He’s a passionate stallion, Mizz Sparkle,” Whippoorwill said, stepping aside and nodding courteously at the others as they passed him. “Might not be thinkin’ right, when he’s decidin’ how to allocate this city’s water.”

Twilight stopped, but didn’t turn.

“He might not make the best decisions, concernin’ The Mountain Zone’s hydration.”

“That’s some kind of threat,” Twilight said, looking back at him.

“No threats, Mizz Sparkle, just one stallion concerned fer his friend. Ah would beg you reconsider yer schedule, though. It’s just one sit down, an’ we can avoid a whole mess of unpleasantness by it. What do you say?”

Twilight didn’t look at her friends, though she could see them all looking at her. They were waiting for her response, she realized without surprise. “How long will it take you to get back to this Gold Ribbon?”

“‘Bout an hour, Ah reckon. He’s on the other side of town, under the aqueducts.” He laughed and shook his head, the straps on his tie swishing gently by his chest, and his pulse crystal at his side. “Y’all picked a right inconvenient spot to land yerselves.”

“We’ll stay here for two and a half hours,” Twilight said. “That’s one hour to get back, one hour to get here, and half an hour for him to make his decision. After that, we’re leaving, threats or no threats.”

Whippoorwill nodded and tipped his hat again. “Ah think Gold Ribbon’ll like you, Mizz Sparkle. You’ve got backbone.”

“Two and a half hours. Oh, and he can come alone.”

“Two and a half hours, alone.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Not a minute more.” Whippoorwill closed the distance and shook her hoof, then teleported the short distance directly into his car and turned a wide circle in the grass before finding his trail and fading into the darkening distance.

It was sundown when Rainbow spotted a different car approaching their lot. It was fifteen minutes before takeoff, and the whole ship collectively sighed when they saw that they were not going to be leaving just yet.

The car stopped just outside the lot, and they went to the top of the steps, where they looked down on a fat, olive green earth pony. He wore three gold chains that hung loosely off his wide neck, visible in the half-unbuttoned, black shirt he filled. His mane was thinning, and he wore a dark brown cloak that trailed in the grass, and, where his tail tapered, pooled in an oil spill of fabric.

“Let me do the talking,” Twilight said quietly. “Gold Ribbon?”

“I.” He rose to the first step and stopped, and Twilight quietly admired how he carried his weight. There was no adjustment of balance, no uncertainty in his stance, and no loud breathing. Behind, she could hear Fluttershy’s nervous sounds, and hoped that the large stallion could not.

“I’m told you wanted to speak to us about something.”

He nodded, his neck bulging outward grossly as he did so. “You know who I am?”

“Your friend told us about you, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again, from you this time.”

He growled in the back of his throat, clearing it. “I run The Water Loop in this city, taking rainwater and groundwater from desolate farm districts and bringing it to Mountain Zone. I pick up what Celestia’s cloud convoy cannot be asked to deliver to those who need it.”

“Is that what ponies are calling their settlements by the aqueducts?” Twilight asked. “The Mountain Zone?”

“It is.” He looked at Twilight silently, and, though she could feel her friends shuffling anxiously behind her, she looked directly at him.

After a minute, she said, “If you have nothing to ask us, then we’ll be going.”

He chuckled. “You don’t scare as easily as I expected, Twilight.”

“Miss Sparkle, please.”

“Miss Sparkle. You’ve had meetings like this before.”

“In Roan, yes. I’ve faced scarier ponies than you.”

“Ahhh, then you are familiar with them.”

“That criminal family, yes. Are you another outlet of theirs?”

“More of an appendage,” Gold Ribbon said. “But not for long. My interests in you are nominal, at best; I’d much rather have you help me, without Mansels’ knowledge.”

“And how do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“Hear my request and see.”

Twilight thought. Though she was trying her hardest not to show it, she had not expected to be meeting with the Mansels, or one of their ponies, so far north. “And how do you know we aren’t working for them?”

“Because I’m supposed to be extracting information from you.” He smiled and held up a hoof when the others started. “I have no intention of doing that.”

“What kind of information?” Twilight asked. Behind her, she could hear the others whispering.

“Mrs. Mansel contacted me days ago and told me to expect you to stop here. How she knew, I do not know. She wanted me to find you and leverage from you your involvement in Pure Waterfall’s demise.”

“This again?” Rainbow asked.

“So they tried to get it from you in Roan,” Gold Ribbon said.

“Tell them we didn’t do anything,” Twilight said. “We were there, that was it.”

He looked at her quietly, appearing not to register that she had spoken at all.

“Discord had been enchanting his dam, and the river, for months before we arrived—with his consent. Pure Waterfall signed a contract with him. When we arrived, it got up and moved, and we tried and failed to stop it. I don’t know how Pure Waterfall died, but it must have been then.” She cleared her throat. “We had no reason to want him… gone, at that time.”

“At that time?”

Weighing her options, she decided she could shock him. “We later found out that he was their money launderer.”

Gold Ribbon started, as if her words had physically thrown him off balance. She smiled.

“Yes, we know.”

Collecting himself quickly, Gold Ribbon said, “Then you might know how desperate the Mansels’ situation is now, yes?”

Twilight shook her head. “We don’t involve ourselves with ponies like them.”

“And yet you are here, speaking to me.” He smiled with his mouth only. “You know what he was. Know this: Pure Waterfall was their largest source of income in Applewood. He was the channel through which flowed nearly all their money from that city, mostly drugs and illegal magic. With him dead, not only are they cut off from that money, but the drug and magic lords there have no reason to stay loyal to the family. They’ve all either found their own money launderers, or are still searching.” His smile vanished, but his voice took on a heavy, silky satisfaction. “No one in Applewood cares about the Mansels anymore.”

“Why is that good for you if you’re a part of them?”

“They’ve never been so weak before, and I never so strong.” He gestured at the top of the stairs. “May I board your ship? I wish to rest my hooves.”

Twilight thought for a second.

“Sorry, pal, no sale,” Rainbow said from behind.

“You can sit on the steps,” Twilight said.

Gold Ribbon smiled thinly and, with an adjustment to his billowing cloak, sat on the step. In the dying sunset, he more resembled a mossy stone than a pony.

“You want to be independent of the Mansels, is that it?” Twilight asked.

“That is it, yes. Right now, we need each other still. They need my information, and I need their money, and their workers. I want to grow The Loop, but have not the funds. That is where you come in.”

“You want our money,” Rarity said flatly. “That’s what this boils down to?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Twilight said. “Sorry. We don’t fraternize with ponies like you, and we certainly don’t give them donations.”

“Perhaps,” Gold Ribbon said. “I’d ask you to kindly hear me out.”

Twilight sighed. “Proceed.”

“My Water Loop is the thing that keeps those who remain alive. You know this?”

“I know it.”

“Then perhaps it is not unreasonable for me to request recompense. I could always just…” He raised his hoof, and let it drop. “Shut The Loop off.”

Pregnant silence filled the space between them, and Twilight was suddenly aware of how dark it had gotten. The stars were out, turning the yellow grass into smudged, gray fur as far as she could see.

“Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “I think we should do it.”

“It’s like we never left Roan,” Rarity said.

“No,” Twilight said. “You’re bluffing. You need Trottingham just as much as it needs you. If you turn off your Loop, you’ll be destroying the only source of money you have left, and you’re thousands of miles from the nearest town.” She snorted. “You can’t threaten us, Gold Ribbon.”

“Shall Ah get the ship ready?” Applejack asked.

“Please.”

“Wait,” Gold Ribbon said. “Perhaps the entire town is too much. What about just one pony?”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I can hurt in other ways, Miss Sparkle.”

“Oh, here we go,” Rainbow said. “Lemme guess. You’ll single out some poor nobody and threaten to hurt them if we don’t pay you, and when we do, you’ll turn around and do some other terrible thing. Right?” She paused. “Mansel scum.”

“Rainbow’s right,” Twilight said. She activated her horn, and Gold Ribbon lifted off the ground with a cry, his legs flailing and his cloak flowing out around him, as if the tension keeping it together had suddenly burst. The car door flew open and a pony jumped out, the gleam of a pulse crystal at the ready on one of his hooves. Rarity’s shield snapped to life an instant later.

“Wait!” Fluttershy yelled. “Everypony just… hold on. Twilight, please, put him down.”

Twilight looked at Fluttershy. Her intentions had simply been to frighten, but Gold Ribbon did not appear at all alarmed. His kicking had stopped, and he simply hung in the air and watched them.

“Please, Twilight.”

Twilight dropped the fat pony, but gestured to Rarity to keep her shield up.

“I have a different idea,” Fluttershy said. “There doesn’t need to be violence at all. Why not, instead of making threats, you promise to do something for us? Help us, instead of forcing us.”

“What do you want?” the pony by the car asked. From his voice, they knew it was Whippoorwill.

“Back in the car,” Gold Ribbon said. “And put that thing away.”

No one spoke until Whippoorwill had slunk away.

“What do you want?”

“Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, um, I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I… just wanted to de-escalate things.”

“Perhaps we meet again tomorrow, when you’ve had some time to consider your terms,” Gold Ribbon said breathlessly. He produced a white rectangle from somewhere in his clothes and started up the steps.

“No. Leave it there. I’ll pick it up,” Twilight said.

He nodded, and, not taking his eyes off her, left the business card on the stone stair. With a final look that could not be interpreted in the darkness, he got in the car and was chauffeured away.

While Fleur dis Lee talked, Colgate studied the peas on her plate. They were having an early dinner before heading out on assignment; Colgate had to be assured multiple times that it was no ruse to kill her, but only pretended to believe it. Time would tell, she figured, and, if her death were to come that night, it might not be so bad. She was not convinced that she had escaped from the Datura’s rehab prison, only peeled back the first layer of it, so it stood to reason that death was most likely the better option.

“This is as much a test of your skills as it is an opportunity to re-acquaint you to the Datura, the real one. None of that hokey, flaky stuff Fancy Pants had you doing.”

“We were never meant to be useful there, were we?” Colgate said. On the plate, the overhead light hit in such a way as to create a small, grave-shaped band of light. “His team was for keeping us safely contained.”

“That’s right.”

Colgate hated the calm way that Fleur spoke, the polite precision and the utter lack of hesitation at her admission. She also understood its subtext: Fleur was no one to toy with.

“So tonight you get to see some action, or at least something like it. You’ll get to see someone doing her job well.”

“Aside from watching, what am I doing?” She didn’t look up. She felt poised on the edge of a trap, or of escape from a trap; she couldn’t tell which, and didn’t want to accidentally find out when she wasn’t ready.

“You’ll pass me supplies, set up the police tape, and all that fun stuff. Clerical duties.”

“Can’t wait.”

“These things are important, Colgate,” Fleur said, her voice lowered.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Let’s watch the sarcasm, hm?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” In her heart, she feared she had crossed that fatal line.

Fleur sighed. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to expect you to trust me so soon.”

Colgate looked up at her.

“Once the stars are out, we’ll get moving. I assume you know why it’s best to do this under cover of night?”

“Fewer ponies out to see us.”

“Good. Good.”

“That was too easy. What’s she doing?” Colgate glanced down at the floor and resisted the urge to slide her plate off the table. It might trigger an avalanche from Fleur, but at least it would be something. Sitting and speaking, the air of calm pressing in around her, was too much. She felt like she was underwater, and sinking all the time; the pressure was growing, and she was powerless.

“If this works out, you can meet the rest of my team. They’re looking forward to seeing you.”

“What do they know?”

“Just the basics.” Fleur gave Colgate a smile that she didn’t see.

When they were done with dinner, they packed, Fleur using a pair of enchanted saddlebags with enhanced volumes, and Colgate with a pen and pad, should she want to take notes. As soon as they were outside, Colgate had to stop by a flower pot and catch her breath. After a torturous dinner, a reprieve had finally come.

“All right?” Fleur asked.

“Gimme a sec.” She focused on her breath, on the night air inside her lungs. After a minute, she climbed into Fleur’s car, and they swung out onto an empty street that they soon abandoned for a thin, country road. The forests of Canterlot Mountain appeared in the distance, below them but rising, merging with a soft, black sky.

Colgate leaned her head on the sideboard to stare out the window, watching trees and fields whip by under a thin crescent moon. Inside, Fleur had the radio turned to static, filling the car with calming white noise. It was not something Colgate could recall experiencing.

She had expected to immediately return to the feeling of drowning, but the car did not box her in as the house had. She breathed in and out deeply, and ignored Fleur’s occasional glances. Still, the spectre of death or imprisonment loomed.

Fleur’s cover was brilliant, Colgate reflected. She was everything a leader should be: authoritative, knowledgeable, quick to correct and also quick to forgive. Colgate was not sure how she would handle it when Fleur showed her true self, as she knew she must.

Yet, inside the moving car, humming away from the city, her world was singularly at rest. “Whatever happens, happens,” she told herself, watching the moon glide behind a cloud. “If there’s no hope, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

As the first cluster of trees ended around them, the static gradually faded out, replaced with a moderate, masculine voice, speaking without inflection. “Six, one, one, zero, nine, zero, two, five… five, five, three, nine, zero, one, seven, zero…”

“What is this?” Colgate finally asked.

“Numbers station,” Fleur said. “It’s a radio station that broadcasts… well, you can hear it. Strings of numbers.”

“Is that it?”

Fleur said nothing, and let the station play. “Transmission iteration zero-one-point-seven: one, seven, four, six.” Then, the static resumed.

“This one’s been going for… hmm, a couple decades, now. At least.”

“Nonstop?” Colgate asked.

“Nonstop. That bit there at the end, though, that’s new. I noticed it a couple months ago.”

“What is it?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” She looked quickly at Colgate. “That is, I don’t know myself.”

The voice returned with a new set of numbers.

“I love them. I’ve always thought they were fascinating. Fancy Pants thinks I’m crazy.” She chuckled. “I just think there’s something charming in all of it, the loneliness. A machine running forever with no one to watch it. There’s something attractive about that, I think.”

Colgate nodded, tapping her horn against the glass, but could think of nothing to say.

“Some of them are top-secret Datura communication outposts, or can be used as such in times of need. I don’t know if this one is.”

Colgate tuned her, and the numbers station, out. The intrusion of voices from the sea of static had been unwelcome, but even that did not last long inside the car’s atmosphere. The darkness and the quiet were too much, and she was soon relaxed again, even as the fleeting view of Lower Canterlot was lost amid the ever-approaching trees. They finally stopped at the edge of a wide, flat field, hemmed in by a broken-down fence and a thin line of dark trees, whispering in the breeze.

“Stay by me, and stay alert,” Fleur said. “Nothing’s going to jump out at you, but this place is dangerous for the unwary. There’s a magical anomaly out in that field.”

“Can we see it from here?”

“No, and what’s more, you don’t want to. It’s… I’ll explain it in more detail when we get home, but, basically, if you do see it, you’re in trouble.”

“Huh.”

“Colgate, if at any point I tell you to close your eyes, you do it immediately, okay?”

Colgate looked at her, then past her.

“Seriously. I don’t want you accidentally seeing this.”

“What’ll happen?”

Fleur sighed. “It’s an uncontrolled teleportation enchantment, manifested somewhere out there. Observing it activates it.”

“So—”

“Keep your distance. I know how to spot these, and I know how to avoid accidentally activating them.” She lifted their supplies out of the back and got out. Laying a roll of police tape and a bundle of pegs at Colgate’s hooves, she took for herself a strange, multi-jointed spyglass. “Set up a border around this side of the field while I scout the area.”

“What about the other sides?”

“The field ends right at a cliff. No one’s likely to be coming up that side, but we have a satellite cloud out there just in case. The last team set it up.” She shrugged out of her loose coat jacket and nudged a small, silver amulet around her neck. “I’ll know if someone’s coming up on us.”

Colgate recognized the type of amulet from her times in Manehattan, but didn’t say so. They were enchanted on a specific wavelength of magical energy, easily matched to any nearby object enchanted in the same manner. In that way, a Datura was able to set up a remote alarm system, receiving a gentle feeling in their amulet if someone or something were to be detected by the other enchantment.

“Go on, we’re burning nighttime.” She propped herself on the hood of her car and held the spyglass to her eye, one hoof up to steady it in its magical mist.

Colgate walked to the field’s far edge, hearing only the crickets’ song as she wrapped the tape around a tree. She pounded the stake into the ground, her mind miles away, back at Rouge’s house.

She was not accustomed to using her magic for something less delicate than surgery, and was already tired when she had put the first stake into the ground. Hitting it harder, all she could do to assert herself in her constricting world, reaped no reward.

She felt the tension in the tape as she spooled it and brought it to where she would place the next stake, and wondered how far she could stretch it before it broke. A useless gesture; she knew she would prove nothing by it, and only show her lack of confidence to Fleur, who she was certain had the spyglass trained on her, at least part of the time.

How to escape? Her first thought was that she needed her pills again, that they would give her enough clarity to think through her situation more carefully, but the idea was softer than before. They always punished her when she took pills, she knew, and, with Fleur living with her, she imagined there was no way she could hide anything. Even if she were to leave for a time, she would be followed; she knew it with as much certainty as she knew her own name.

“Face it, Cole, you’re trapped,” Rouge’s voice mocked in her mind. “Of course, there’s always one way out.” She rejected the thought immediately; she didn’t want to give the Datura the dignity to know it had pushed her so far, even though the idea of it coming on its own was not so alarming.

She was nearly back to Fleur’s car, but the white unicorn was not watching her, as she expected. Fleur faced the field, almost motionless, her horn alight and a small, luminescent sphere sitting beside her.

“What’s that?” Colgate asked.

“Magic proximity potion,” Fleur said. “It gets hotter as it gets closer to an enchantment. Well, this one gets hotter.”

Colgate thrust the stake into the ground and pounded it with her hooves, her own magic waning. Her horn ached, a sensation she rarely felt, and which depressed her. “Some unicorn I am, tired already from a few stakes.”

“There’s always that one option…” Rouge’s voice reminded her.

“Shut up,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Thinking out loud,” Colgate said without looking up.

When she had finished stringing the police tape across the field’s face, Fleur got off her car and put away the spyglass. She rummaged in her bag and produced a pair of cheap sunglasses, which she donned.

“Kinda dark, isn’t it?” Colgate asked. She hated that she found it funny; she was in no mood to laugh.

“The phenomenon is sensitive to observation, remember. These black out all but the largest details, and movement. I can look around a little more safely.”

“So those really are just sunglasses. I thought they’d be enchanted.”

“I got ‘em for two bits at the mall, extra tacky. Wanna try?”

“I’m good,” Colgate said, waving the gaudy glasses away as they floated near her face.

“Too bad.” Another pair floated over, and Colgate put them on after a second. “Once we get out there, we’ll be close to it. I can’t have you spotting it.”

“Fine.” She looked around, uncomfortable. The stars and moon were mere suggestions of light, the grass a sea of shadow.

“This is one advantage to having such a nice, white coat,” Fleur said. “Stay behind me, and don’t rubberneck too much. And remember, if I say close your eyes, you do it.”

“Sure.”

“Give me a yes or a no, not a sure.”

“Is that a Datura rule, or a Fleur rule?”

Fleur looked at her, the dark glasses doing nothing to hide her annoyance.

“All right, all right. I understand about closing my eyes.”

“I hope so. C’mon.”

They pushed into the tall grass, and a pair of moths scattered in a white helix in front of Colgate’s muzzle. She didn’t see them, save for flutters of white at the bottom of her glasses. “So, you said I might meet the team soon.”

“That’s right.” Fleur had her eyes down, trying to see a clear spot on the ground.

“What are they all like?”

“I’d rather you just meet them.”

Colgate rolled her eyes as a worrying thought occurred to her: perhaps there was no team at all, and her “meeting” was just a trap. She supposed it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise. Again, Rouge’s voice echoed in her mind with its toxic suggestion.

She lowered her glasses a fraction, enough to let in only a little more light, and looked into the sky, facing the bright, full moon, and stumbled. As she looked back down, the air around her rippled, and her head swam, as though she had suddenly gotten her wish and received the clarity that only a couple painkillers could give her. No sense of euphoria or confidence came with it, however.

“I think I saw something,” Colgate said at last, when her head cleared.

Fleur froze and looked at Colgate, her voice quick and concerned. “Close your eyes and tell me what you saw.”

“It was just…” She closed her eyes, half expecting a strike across her face for not doing so faster. “Like, a ripple in the air. Could have been the wind.”

“A ripple?”

Colgate thought and cracked her eyes. In the distance, not where it was a minute ago, the crescent moon floated inside the treetops, barely visible through her glasses. “That wasn’t there before.”

“What do you mean?”

“The moon. It was full just a second ago, and right above me.”

Fleur looked at the moon, then back at Colgate. She took off her glasses and moved at a hasty trot. “Back to the car, right now.”

“Did you see it?” She followed behind, the sound of grass under her hooves coming up at her in thick bursts, as if the sound had been dissociated from its cause.

“I think you did.” Her voice was distant, and echoed faintly.

“Stop,” Colgate said. “Something’s up.” Her own voice, too, echoed in her ears, and she backed up a step. She remembered nights like it, except she had been in bars, with friends; out in the nothingness between Greater and Lower Canterlot, she had no business feeling as she did.

“How do you feel?” Fleur asked as if from across the field.

“Fuzzy.” She could not feel her lips forming the words, and barely heard them. “It’s quiet.”

“This way,” Fleur said calmly, taking the glasses off her face and, at the same time, grabbing Colgate’s foreleg in hers and limping deeper into the field. Fleur’s slender physique belied a wiry strength that Colgate was surprised to feel, even in her state.

“Keep talking,” Fleur said. “Let me know if things get clearer.”

Colgate’s head brushed a tall stalk of grass, and she struggled to think of something to say.

“Come on, Colgate, talk to me!”

“Uhh, I don’t know. The best way to operate on somepony is when they’ve been anesthetized.” She stumbled in a gopher hole. “Celestia, how long has it been since I’ve been in the operating room? I remember one time giving a talk to the school fillies about proper safety when doing sports.” She shook her head, and clarity faded back in. “Hey, I’m feeling better.”

Fleur sighed and stopped, and Colgate realized then that she was breathing heavily. “We need to get to the car, but it’s blocking us.”

“Okay, hang on.” She looked back at the sky, just to make sure the moon was still where she had left it. “So I activated this spell?”

“Looks like it.”

“There was no spell, Cole, you just followed her into a trap. You let her put some kind of enchantment on you.”

“Into the trees,” Fleur said. “We’ll go around. I need you to close your eyes.”

Colgate nodded, stupefied and paranoid.

“Yes or no, Colgate.”

“Sorry, sorry. Yes, yes, fine, let’s go. Get me out of here.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Fleur muttered, and yanked Colgate in the direction of the trees. She walked behind, her eyes closed, and tried to feel her location by the rises and dips in the ground. When her tail caught on a low branch, she almost screamed, thinking it the activation of the trap she imagined she was in.

Outside, the crickets’ song began to press in on her, no longer an articulate arrangement of separate sounds, but an oscillating screech that reminded her, in conjunction with her earlier thoughts, of the operating room. She used to work with tools that made a similar sound.

She almost pitched forward on a stone and flung open her eyes, catching a whirling look at the trees as she got back to her hooves, one still held by Fleur. The trees were black obelisks in front of her face, beyond them the empty field, and hanging just above the grass, a dark circle that became clearer as she gained her balance. It vanished for a second behind a tree, but, as Fleur pulled her into a small clearing between two fringes of foliage, she got a better look. It was no illusion, and did not carry the familiar coruscation of magic that she could attribute to Fleur. It simply rested in the air, dark.

Then, to her horror, she realized that it was growing. Thoughts exploded in her mind, amid them a cacophony of Rouge’s suicidal advice. “Hey! Uh… it’s getting bigger.”

“Colgate!” Fleur gave her hoof an angry jerk, forcing her forward and almost into the dirt. “Eyes closed!” She growled and pulled Colgate back up, faster than Colgate could get her hooves under her, but didn’t stop, and Colgate stumbled and twisted a leg before regaining her balance. She didn’t feel the pain.

“It grows when you look at it,” Fleur said, her voice underwater. Colgate felt as though she were being pulled through sand, the grass brushing her fur all part of an infinite sensation. As the feeling grew and transfigured, and she could feel her own body in its space, she became worried that she would leave past iterations of herself stuck to the clasping grass, slices of herself in motion in a wild trail for the imposter sphere to follow. If she did, she knew she would not feel it, and she was suddenly all the more afraid.

“Here we go,” Fleur said, opening the car doors. They sounded like empty suggestions of thunderclaps to Colgate, who had to be guided into the passenger seat. When the engine rumbled to life, her sensations were beginning to come back, and she was fully recovered just in time to hear the numbers station begin its lonesome monologue.

Back at the house, the two sat in the living room with the lights off. Colgate took hesitant sips of water, wishing it were something else, while Fleur stared at the wall, thinking.

“All right,” she said at last, “unfortunately, there isn’t much of a good side to this.”

“Did I screw up?” Colgate asked. She kept looking at the window, even though curtains covered it.

“You could have been more careful,” Fleur said slowly. “It won’t do to pass blame right now. You’re in trouble for a whole ‘nother reason.”

“That thing’s gonna get me.”

Fleur smiled. “It’s good you can keep calm at a time like this. Really. You have no idea how important that is with us.”

Colgate looked at the window again, then turned on the TV. She needed background noise.

“It’s a natural phenomenon that most often occurs when a powerful unicorn mis-casts a certain combination of spells. It’s a teleportation enchantment, given form.”

“I was never strong in magic theory, so I don’t know what that means.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter so much. Basically, if it catches you, you’ll get teleported somewhere random.” She held up a hoof. “I know that doesn’t sound too bad, all things considered, but the magic isn’t stable. You might not make it to your destination all together, if you read me.”

“So touch it and I die.” She sipped her water and changed the channel. “An awfully long way to go just to kill me. She had me in the bag earlier; why not then?” She looked at Fleur again, who watched her, but not carefully. She leaned in her chair, seemingly relaxed. Her tone was calm and conversational, and her eyes didn’t linger on Colgate.

“It’s safest to assume that.”

“And…” She changed the channel again, on guard. She couldn’t figure what Fleur had planned, acting so at ease. She decided to keep talking. “What about all the sensory stuff from earlier?”

“An effect of proximity to the magic. Do you want to know how it works?”

“We can leave it at that.”

“The closer you get, the worse it gets. If you’re close enough to be teleported, you probably won’t be aware of it, which is a mercy, in a way, but it also makes it pretty difficult to stop.”

“How, exactly, do we stop it?”

“Well, as I said, it’s observationally activated; whoever sees it first, in its inactive state, is the only one it can touch. It’s… oh, it’s all about the transitory nature of perception-based magic, how seeing something can inherently change it. I won’t bore you. What it means, though—what it means, Colgate—is that it’s up to you to dispel it.”

“You can’t do anything?”

“I… don’t think so.” She thought for a second. “I think it is possible for a non-participant—that’s what we call anyone it hasn’t targeted—to dispel it, but it’s really complicated and time-intensive. May as well just have you do it, since you’re a unicorn.”

“I don’t know how to dispel stuff,” Colgate said. “I can’t even teleport.” She mashed a button on the remote control, realizing too late that she had just revealed her magical limitations. Hopefully, she thought, Fleur would think she was lying. “What happens if an earth pony or pegasus gets targeted by one of these things?”

Fleur nodded, but said nothing.

“Hell. But if I’m supposed to dispel it, how can I get close enough so it doesn’t… I mean, I’ll be out of my head when we get close to it.” She bolted up. “Is it still coming for me?”

“Relax,” Fleur said. “It’s slow.”

“How slow?”

Fleur’s hoof tapped idly on the coffee table. “Seventy, eighty years ago, there was a pony who spent the last half of her life running from one. She died of something else, not because it got her. Trust me, they’re slow. You have time.”

Colgate sat back down.

“No looking at it. Direct observation strengthens it. It gets bigger, and its area of effect grows.”

“Dare I ask?”

“No known upper limit, no, but no one’s keen on testing them to such an extent.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask.”

“Then ask away.”

“Does that mean I’ll have to have my eyes closed when I try to dispel it?”

“Not when you try, when you do. And don’t worry, I’ll be right there.”

“I thought you said—”

“There are ways to track its position without seeing it. I don’t know them off the top of my head, I’ll have to do some research, but I know it can be done.”

Colgate thought. “What if it turns out I’m not powerful enough to dispel something like that?”

“I’ll say kind words at your ceremony.” She rose. “That is, if Canterlot is still standing by then.”

The vastness of the Everfree Forest had not diminished for its fractured state, but, from nearly three hundred feet above, it struck them how small it was in comparison to the wilderness of unexplored Equestria. Since Trottingham, where they stopped for half a day to restock supplies, the three ponies had only one another to remind them that they were not alone in the world.

“Whoovsies told me the forest would rebuild itself in time,” Pinkie said. She was pacing across the angel’s flat back, enjoying the high-altitude temperatures.

“I doubt that,” Octavia said, eyes closed. She had stolen a look over the side as they finally reached the top of their climb, where they would remain until reaching Canterlot. She didn’t want them to be seen until the very last moment, by anyone. From their height, she imagined most ponies would assume they were a bird.

“No, I think it makes sense. The forest is full of old, spooky magic, so why not? All those trees, with their deep, deep roots, they can probably pull their little slice of the world together easy-peasy.”

“You are beginning to talk like him.”

“He’s funny, that’s for sure!”

Octavia cracked an eye to give her sister a look, and Pinkie only giggled.

“Um… I gotta go real quick,” Pinkie said. “Be back in a jif!” She went downstairs, passing Whooves in his room, reclining with a tattered book, and went into her own room. The accommodations inside the angel were almost nonexistent, with a wire cot and thin sheet in each otherwise empty room. She had decorated hers as best she could, with wrappers and packaging from their rations. She had smeared her cutie mark onto the steel wall with a butter pat, and tacked its golden foil onto a metal spur at the bottom of her cot.

Without thinking, she closed the door, and all that remained was what starlight came in through a thin slat close to the ceiling. On the cot, all at once there and as solid as she, sat the white stallion.

“Did you make me come down here?”

“I impelled you quietly, yes,” Vanilla said. “Your princess would be most upset if she discovered I visited you here, Pinkie. She doesn’t want me to know where you are, and what manner of machine you mean to bring to the coming battle.”

Pinkie stared at him. “Sooooo…”

“She has concentrated an attack on all the Tartarus gateways she can find, in the hopes that this will in some way distract me from my number one job, monitoring you all. The fear is that I tell Discord of this angel of yours, and so spoil the surprise.” He smiled disarmingly. “You, of all ponies, know the bad in spoiling a surprise.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Pinkie said.

“Come, sit.”

She edged to the cot and sat on the corner, watching him closely as he faced her.

“Why are you afraid? I come with no ill intentions.” He laughed once. “I’m not moving you today.”

Pinkie relaxed a little, and was able to give him an innocent head-tilt with her question. “Should we keep our voices down?”

“I’ve taken care of that,” Vanilla said, gesturing toward the door. “I have us wrapped in a cushion of soundproof magic, you and I.”

“You don’t want them to know you’re here either, then. Sneaky. But why are you here? Is someone getting another magic boost?” She perked up for a second, but dropped her happy expression instantly. “Is it me?”

“It was going to be. My original intent was that you be the last of the six original friends to receive my largess. I had your special magic picked out and everything. After much soul-searching, however, I do not believe I can give it to you.”

Pinkie looked at him and almost had to shield her eyes from his brilliant coat. “Why not?” She knew she should be happy, but only felt rebuffed.

“Why, Pinkamena, you perplex me. I thought you hated magic. I thought you wanted to distance yourself from the responsibility that inheres to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“You said it yourself, to your beloved sister. Were you lying?”

Pinkie looked down at the spark of gold foil she had attached to her cot. The color suddenly seemed a garish insult. “I wasn’t lying, no. Not to her.”

“But you were,” Vanilla said after a pause, voice soft. “Omitting the truth is just as much a lie as constructing a falsehood. Believe me, Pinkie, I’ve seen plenty in my life, and you’ll have the opportunity to see another shortly.”

“I won’t,” she said suddenly, looking into his eyes, glinting with pride. She scooted back and almost fell off, as much alarmed at her own response as the pleasure that danced in his eyes.

“You will. What you do with that opportunity, that is another question entirely. It will be a choice between allowing the lie to take root, and telling the truth.” He smiled. “You know the truth I speak of.”

“You don’t know anything. You weren’t there.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. I watched from the start. I was only physically present for the last minute or two, but I saw everything. Pinkie, that dam and its river were my babies. Discord can take the credit if he wants it, but half that magic was mine, and I intended to see it perform.”

Pinkie got up, disgusted, but afraid to show it. “So you watched us get our butts kicked, and only intervened at the last second?”

Vanilla Cream smiled up at her.

“I… uh… well, you know, my guilt doesn’t absolve you of yours!”

“I make no claim that it does.”

Pinkie’s retort died. She had been prepared to keep talking, to work herself into an avalanche of defense and deflection—for that was all it would have been, she knew in her sudden lapse of indignity—but Vanilla had sucked the feeling away from her, his own calm mien as inimitable as the deep, black marks on his flanks.

“Well… okay.”

“We share guilt, let’s say. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there, Pinkie? Life goes on, and us with it.”

He looked into her eyes, and she looked down. “I guess so.”

“Was it fear of responsibility?”

She slouched against the wall, remembering her conversation with Octavia only days ago. She had admitted to it then, but had been too scared to reveal the context to her sister. “You’re not going to tell anyone about me, are you?”

Vanilla shook his head. “Not my place.”

“Then…” She sighed. It was the first time she had spoken openly of it. “I didn’t mean to. I just froze. I wanted to help, obviously, but I couldn’t.”

“Yes, yes, performance anxiety. The true evil behind all your country’s woes.”

“Hey, come on.”

“I mean no offense.” He smiled sedately and held up his hooves. “Do you think you’ll be able to make up for your mistakes on this angel?”

“I have to think that. Otherwise, this is all for nothing.”

“Spoken like your sister. You two have a lot in common, you know that.”

“Don’t tell her!” Pinkie cried, finally breaking her stoic act and running over to him. “Please, don’t! She’ll kill me.”

“Pinkie, Pinkie,” he said, laughing. “Your secrets are safe with me, you can be sure of that.”

“You promise?”

“I’m not in the business of making promises, except to those who can forcibly extract them from me. But I’ll do my best.”

She eyed him, and he smiled earnestly at her.

“You can at least trust me far enough to try.”

“I can,” she said after a moment. “We’ve come this far with you, why not a little further?”

“Precisely, my dear. Now, chin up. Remember, life goes on.”

“And me with it, yep.” She smiled a little in spite of herself.

“There, see?” Vanilla clapped her on the back. “Good cheer, Pinkie. You’ve a battle to win.” He winked, and was gone in a puff of smoke.

“Fat Mansel scum,” Rainbow said again. “Call.” Over a game of chip poker, she, Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy were discussing their course of action.

“It’s more that Whippoorwill I’m worried about,” Twilight said. “He has the pulse crystal, and he looked like he was ready to use it.”

“They’re both bad ponies,” Fluttershy said, studying her cards. “I fold.”

Rarity rolled her eyes and peeked at Fluttershy’s cards. She nodded. “Perhaps we can get him to help rebuild some houses, or something. This side of town is completely ruined.”

“I’m not sure that would be worth it,” Twilight said. “If the water’s as scarce as he’d like us to believe, it’s probably best everyone remain concentrated in The Mountain Zone.”

“We should check it out,” Rainbow said. “Tomorrow, though. Twilight, you gonna play, or just look at them?”

“Sorry.” She threw in two chips. “Raise.”

“Crap.”

“In the meantime, what do we want?” Fluttershy asked.

“What can he give us?” Rarity asked. “Rather, what can he give us that we don’t already have? He doesn’t have the last Element.”

“Now that would be something,” Rainbow said.

“And I doubt he has anything he can spare for the Canterlot battle.”

“Maybe we can get him to send Whippoorwill,” Twilight said with a chuckle.

“All right, ladies, let’s see them,” Rarity said as the betting came back to her. Twilight took the pot.

“Are we missing any materials, any resources?” Twilight asked, shuffling the cards. “I remember Octavia’s cello is ruined.”

“We’re not gonna give him however much money he wants for a dumb cello,” Rainbow said.

“I’m just saying. It’s a jumping off point.” She passed out the cards. “Seven-card stud, threes are wild, low heart in the hole splits the pot. Ante up, girls.” Chips clattered on the floor.

“Warmer clothes?” Fluttershy offered. “We’re going to Snowdrift next. We are, right?”

“That’s still the plan, yes,” Twilight said.

“I already got us some sweaters in Roan,” Rarity said.

“And I’ve got my weather magic,” Rainbow said.

“How’s that going, by the way?” Fluttershy asked.

“You tell me. You’re sitting in it.”

“I thought it was oddly comfortable tonight,” Rarity said. “It’s freezing up on the deck.”

“It isn’t that cold.”

Twilight looked at her cards and folded, disgusted.

“What about Lacey?” Fluttershy asked.

“What about her?” Rarity said.

“She’s in trouble, I gathered today.”

No one said anything, but Twilight kept her eyes on Rarity.

“What are you suggesting?” Rarity asked at last.

“Call,” Rainbow said quietly.

“What if we told him to secure her passage to Canterlot?” Fluttershy asked.

“And help her with her latest scheme?”

“Precisely,” Rarity said, smiling at Rainbow. “We’d be helping her if we did that, so I suggest we do something else.”

“We’d also be getting her out of here,” Twilight said. “Which… well, it’s tricky.”

“We’d be saving her,” Fluttershy said, “which is the right thing to do for someone in trouble.”

“We’d also be removing any opportunity she might have to involve herself with Gold Ribbon and the Mansels.”

“Ooooh, that’s a good point,” Rainbow said. “Seriously, Twilight, do something or fold.”

“I already folded.”

“Oh. I didn’t see.”

“That’s what it means when the cards are down, Dash, dear,” Rarity said.

“You might know if you folded once and a while yourself,” Twilight said.

“All right, all right, all right,” Rainbow said.

“Imagine Lacey teaming up with the Mansels,” Fluttershy said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“They might not like her,” Rarity said. “They might find her too smart, or too independent, and remove her.”

“Don’t get too excited now, Rare,” Rainbow said.

“It’s something to consider, that’s all.”

“I prefer the idea of sending her away,” Twilight said. “But to Canterlot?”

“We don’t have to give her much,” Fluttershy said. “Just book her passage on an airship, and give her maybe a hundred bits so she doesn’t starve immediately.”

“And how do we know this whole ‘down on my luck’ thing isn’t an act?” Rarity asked.

“She had no way to anticipate us coming to see it,” Twilight said.

“She might have,” Fluttershy said, picking up the cards and clumsily shuffling them in her unpracticed telekinesis. “Whippoorwill knew where to find us easily enough, and we were only gone for an hour or two.”

“But are they working together?” Rainbow asked.

“It’s possible,” Rarity said.

“I think not,” Twilight said. “We’re talking about them like they had this elaborate, huge plan for tricking us. I think the simple explanation is the real one. Lacey moved here, lost money, and needs to get out. Nothing more to it. Whatever’s going on with Gold Ribbon and Whippoorwill is something else.”

“You’re probably right,” Fluttershy said. She passed out the cards. “Um, is five-card draw okay?”

“You’re the dealer,” Rarity said.

“We could send her somewhere else,” Rainbow said.

“Hoofington? Not much there.”

“The Astras are still there,” Twilight said. “And that precog pony, what’s his name?”

“Lope?” Rainbow offered.

“Lumb,” Rarity said. “No, we can’t have Lacey in the same town as a precog.”

“There are precogs everywhere,” Twilight said. “It’s just most of them aren’t that powerful.”

“Maybe that’s how Whippoorwill found us,” Fluttershy said. She looked intently at her cards.

“We could send her back into Strawberry’s jaws,” Rainbow said.

“That defeats the purpose.”

“What about Appleloosa?” Rarity asked.

“That’s a thought,” Twilight said, raising.

“I hate it when you do that,” Rainbow said. “‘Cause I know you’ve got something good. You don’t bluff.”

“I bluff.”

“You’re not bluffing now.”

“I call,” Rarity said.

“So are you in or out, Dashie?” Twilight asked.

“Ugh, in.” She threw in her chips from a dwindling pile.

“I say we just send her to Canterlot,” Fluttershy said, folding. “There’s enough there that she can make a living, and it’s big enough that she won’t be able to do a lot of damage.”

“I hate the idea of helping her,” Rarity said.

“Think of it like expelling her from Trottingham,” Twilight said.

“But she wants that.”

“If she stays here, there’s the possibility she survives, and sets down roots,” Fluttershy said. “This city is just starting to rebuild.”

“Yeah, you don’t want someone like her in a fledgling city,” Twilight said.

“I don’t want her anywhere,” Rarity said.

“I don’t see why we haven’t considered using him to get revenge on her,” Rainbow said.

“We haven’t considered it because we’re not like that,” Twilight said. “We’re supposed to be good ponies, Rainbow Dash.”

“I know, but… she’s a toxic mare, Twilight.”

“We’d be like the Mansels if we did something like that,” Fluttershy said. “You’re talking about purchasing revenge.”

Rainbow lowered her eyes, and the temperature dropped.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” Twilight said. “We want her taken to Canterlot, safely, and with a hundred bits so she won’t starve. Good?”

“If we must,” Rarity said, feigning indifference as she watched Twilight shuffle again. “But that means we’ll need to stay here long enough for Gold Ribbon to get her a ship and send her away.”

“We don’t trust him to do it without us watching?” Rainbow asked with a grin.

They all looked at one another.

“Five-card draw,” Twilight said. “Aces wild, but the high spade in the hole takes it all.”