The sun was at the top of the sky just as they flew over the edge of the mountain, which had mostly survived; cracks split its base to send the surrounding countryside out in a starburst of shattered earth, while smaller, incomplete rifts crawled upwards through it. The field just outside Canterlot Palace was a green patchwork of small, fragmentary shelves and ridges, as though suspended mid-explosion on the side of the otherwise still, unhealthy, mountain.

They flew for an hour over the empty, broken wilderness, the novelty of their travel fading within the first twenty minutes. With Applejack steering and Pinkie handling the propulsion, there was nothing to do but watch the world go by, first interesting and frightening, but soon routine. Even in the face of total, sublime, surrounding destruction, life went on, and the crumbled ground was a mere aspect to their travel-bored eyes.

Applejack, stuck at the wheel, had little to do except mark time, and announce at the beginning of every new interval how much remained for them. The others stayed near the rails, looking out; when Applejack called out that they had but a half hour to go, Twilight and Rainbow looked at her and nodded, but said nothing. Twilight’s eyes still hurt, and her head was sluggish with illness and anxiety. She was worried about Spike, and Equestria, and Ponyville, all thoughts that sagged dismally under the weight of the memory of the palace balcony. She wanted to sleep.

“Do you suppose these chunks of ground drift around at all, like clouds?” Rainbow wondered aloud.

“Oh, I really hope not,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah, same. It’s bad enough when clouds run into each other.”

Twilight listened dimly as she looked over the side, admiring and hating the scenery that rolled out before her eyes. It was a collage of ground, most of it rich greens and browns of countryside, dotted with dark green trees. A deep blue band snaked beneath them: Sun Surface River, so named for its point of origin atop the princess’ seat of power. Back on the mountain, it was a sequence of tall, thin waterfalls that started at the top and crashed past the palace and through the lower city, but here, it bent and twisted to Ponyville as an unbroken ribbon.

Twilight studied it, and as her eyes strayed along its narrow, reflective surface toward a split in the ground, a thought came. “Shouldn’t this river have drained out onto the mainland by now?” She squinted at the rift, where the river ended suddenly, but saw no sign of falling water there. “I probably just can’t see it properly.”

“Hey, Rainbow,” she said, calling the keen-eyed pegasus to her. “Look out at the river. Do you see where the ground is split there?”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Can you see the river emptying out at all?”

Rainbow squinted. “No, I don’t. The river’s…” Her eyes widened. “Whoa! The river isn’t emptying out.” She looked at Twilight. “What the hay?”

Twilight only shrugged; the effort of speaking had put her head into a spin.

“Girls, check this out!” Rainbow called, and they all came over to the side of the ship, except Applejack, who merely craned her neck back at them. “Look out at the river.”

“It’s not emptying out,” Rarity noticed at once, and they all looked at Twilight as Rainbow had.

“Why, though?” Fluttershy asked.

“I suppose Pinkie’s spell isn’t letting the water spill out,” Twilight said, closing her eyes. “But as to how it’s working, I can’t even begin to guess.”

“If her spell’s keeping the water from falling out, do you think maybe it’ll keep other things from falling out as well?” Rainbow asked.

“Luna and I managed to, uh, fly down through one, though,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, plus all those soldiers that fell down,” Pinkie said.

“Pinkie,” Rainbow said, frowning at her, “you wanna be less weirdly casual about that?”

“Sorry, Dashie.”

“It’s really creepy.”

Pinkie turned away and frowned, then hopped up suddenly with a cry. “Oh, I’ve got it!”

“What have you got, darling?” Rarity asked.

“Why the rivers are all freaky!” She laughed. “It’s super-simple! I earthquaked the ground, but I lifted Equestria! And rivers are part of that.”

“Ah don’t get it,” Applejack said.

“I didn’t lift the ground, I lifted Equestria! That’s the ground and the clouds and the water and everything!”

“Oh, maybe that’s why we didn’t just break through the clouds,” Fluttershy said.

“And since it’s all under a lifting enchantment, the water can’t fall out,” Rainbow said. “Is that right?”

“Makes sense to me,” Pinkie said, sobering a little.

“So what’s going on where the water’s on the edge? Does it just hang there?” Rarity asked.

“I suppose it must,” Twilight said, trying to imagine it. She opened her eyes and sat down, feeling woozy.

“Oh, Twilight, are you okay?” Fluttershy asked, rushing to her side. “Is your leg okay? Is there any pain?”

Twilight considered lying again, but decided against it. “A little, but it’s tolerable for now.”

“Oh, no. Here, let me cast the spell again.” Fluttershy lowered her head to face Twilight’s pastern.

“It’s not necessary, Fluttershy, really. I can deal with it for now.” “Please, don’t make me keep talking.”

“Oh, if you say so, Twilight. Please let me know as soon as it gets to be too much, though.”

Twilight nodded, squeezing her eyes back shut against the sun’s glare on the deck. “Do you know of any spells that can help clear my head?”

“Oh, um, no. I’m really sorry.”

“Hm.”

“Can you describe it to me? How your head feels, I mean.”

Twilight thought for a moment, frustrated. She felt dizzy, and her voice seemed distant to her. Nevertheless, she looked at Fluttershy, blinking slowly. “There’s a delay between my eyes and my brain. I see something, but it takes a moment for it to register. Make sense?”

“Yes, it does.”

“It sounds like you’re drunk, Twilight,” Rainbow said.

“How would you know?” Rarity asked.

“How do you think? There’s a lot of bars in Cloudsdale, and I have a lot of free time.”

“I’ve never seen you drunk, Dashie!” Pinkie said.

“Well, yeah, I don’t drink so much anymore. I got a lot of that out of my system when I was younger.”

“Always the best time to start,” Rarity said dryly.

“Come on, Rarity, you’ve drank, right?”

“Maybe once or twice at social occasions, but I’ve never been drunk,” she said indignantly.

“I bet all your drinks had little umbrellas in them, didn’t they?”

“My drinks, Rainbow dear, are quite classy. Have you ever heard of a cosmopolitan?”

“Isn’t that a magazine or something?”

“Yes, it is, but it is also a very sophisticated drink. You need to be of a certain social status to enjoy it.”

“Whatever. Give me cheap, domestic beer any day of the week.”

Rarity made a face, and Rainbow laughed.

“I like to drink too, but not too much,” Pinkie said. “After all, who needs alcohol when you can have a party!” She ended on a cheer and a jump, producing a cloud of confetti with a festive whistle.

“It really does make more sense now that we know how magical she is,” Twilight thought, and she looked at Rarity, who had walked to the torch to stare up into the balloon. The action seemed singularly strange to Twilight, though she wasn’t sure why.

She walked over to Rarity unsteadily, not entirely sure what compelled her to do so. “How are you doing, Rarity? I never got the chance to talk to you much about last night.” She immediately regretted her question; her head swam, and she sat down.

“Oh, Twilight, darling, I appreciate it, but I’ll be okay. I’m… exhausted, and very hungry, but wholly uninjured.”

Twilight looked at her uncertainly. In her own mind, the memory of their encounter on the balcony smoldered feverishly; was it the same case for Rarity? She decided not to ask. “I also never got a chance to thank you for your efforts last night. You probably had the hardest job of all of us.”

“Well, I won’t pretend that it was nothing,” Rarity said with a sigh, “but for my friends, anything.”

“Fluttershy said you collapsed as soon as I finished the sigil.”

“She told me the same thing.”

“Well, you did a good job of defending us,” Twilight said quietly. Her voice sounded thin in her ears.

“Thank you, darling. I’m just glad you were able to cast your spell in time.” She smiled. “You really cut it close.”

“Yeah, I heard. That was the most complicated sigil I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I never did get to see it properly, but the pieces that I saw were incredible.”

“Yeah, that was the most complicated sigil I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Rarity looked at her, concerned. “You already said that.”

“Huh?” Twilight thought for a second, and remembered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Rarity. I must have forgot.”

“Perhaps you should go lie down for a while,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Twilight said, suddenly quite aware of her infection. “This isn’t good. It’s really affecting my mind.” She closed her eyes and thought, noting the clarity of her internal voice. “But not too much yet.”

Rarity helped her over to the opposite edge and sat her down, leaning forward a little on her front hooves.

“Ah can see Ponyville,” Applejack said, and Twilight looked up.

“How does it look?”

“Bad.”

Twilight sighed and walked over to her; she wanted to rest, but the prospect of seeing her hometown was too much. They all congregated at Applejack’s side and looked over the prow with her. For Twilight, the town was too far off, and she could make out no details through the swaying air.

“What do you see, Rainbow?” she asked, hoping that she hadn’t already asked it.

Rainbow scanned the town for a moment. “Just like Canterlot. Everything’s split into segments, and a fair amount of the houses are destroyed.”

“What about the library? And the boutique? And Sugarcube Corner? And the farm?”

Rainbow held up a hoof to stop her. “The library is fine, so far as I can tell. Rarity, your shop looks fine from here too.”

Rarity sighed audibly and dramatically.

“Pinkie, Sugarcube Corner’s a little messed up, but it’s okay.”

“At least there’s that!” Pinkie said. “As long as the bakery’s still standing, everything’ll be just fine!”

“Applejack, Sweet Apple Acres is… bad,” Rainbow began. “It looks like the farm has been cut in half, and… I can only see part of the barn.”

“What? The barn is ruined?” Applejack shouted, leaning out over the wheel.

“It sure looks like it.”

“Looks like it got cut clean in half,” Pinkie said.

“Oh Celestia.” Applejack dragged a worried hoof over her head. “Ah hope everypony’s okay. Ah don’t suppose you can see ‘em from here, can ya, Rainbow?”

“I’m sorry Applejack.”

“Shoot!” She looked back quickly. “Twi, as soon as we get you settled, Ah’m goin’ down there. Pinkie, can you make this thing go faster?”

“Sorry, Applejack.”

She whispered a small curse as she leaned out over the wheel again and shouted. “Don’t worry, Apple Bloom! Ah’m a-comin’!” Her eyes glistened, and she wrenched the wheel to the right, making the airship stutter a bit.

“Oh, Rainbow, what about my house?” Fluttershy asked.

Rainbow squinted again. “Sorry, Fluttershy, but I can’t see it from here.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I just hope that none of the animals are hurt. I would never forgive myself if they were hurt while I was gone.”

“Rainbow, can you see Fluttershy’s cottage from here?” Twilight asked.

“Um, no, Twilight. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh yeah what?”

“What?”

“Twilight, what’s wrong with you?” Rainbow frowned at her, expression worried.

“I…” Twilight paused. What had Rainbow asked her? “Um, yeah,” she said hesitantly.

“Twilight, you seriously need to go lie down.”

Twilight nodded and turned around, meaning to walk back to the rail. Fluttershy stayed by her side, ready to catch her should she stumble. Twilight walked slowly, focusing her eyes on the floor for each hoofstep. Her vision was going fuzzy, and she tried to fight it, but could only gain clarity for small moments. She made it to the rail in what felt, to her, like several minutes, and Fluttershy helped her to the floor before lying down next to her.

“Don’t worry, Twilight. We’re almost there.”

“Oh, dear. She doesn’t look at all well,” Rarity said, approaching them.

Twilight looked at Rarity and opened her mouth to say something, but only a drawn out “huuuuuuuuuuuh?” escaped.

“Fluttershy, this isn’t looking good at all,” Rarity said. “And we’re still some twenty minutes away from Ponyville.” She looked down at Twilight once more, who looked back at her uncomprehendingly.

“Is there any way to slow the infection’s progress?” Rainbow asked, joining in.

“Like a medicine,” Rarity said.

Fluttershy thought. “I might be able to use some raw ingredients. Oh, um, if we can find them.”

“Name it,” Rainbow said.

“I need Echinacea and garlic. Those should block the magic, at least kind of.” She looked down. They were approaching a small, dense cluster of trees, which sat under a hill by a bend in the river, bordered on the opposite side by a rough crack. “You should be able to find some among those trees.”

“You got it, Fluttershy.” She placed her hooves on the banister, but stopped. “Wait. I don’t know what this echi-thing looks like.”

The answer came without conscious thought. “It’s kind of like a daisy, and it has purple petals. Oh, but the petals are pointier on the ends than on daisies. They have kind of spiny centers, which are usually dark orange or brown.” She looked out at the woods again. “Look for a spot that’s not too dry and has a lot of sunlight. An open wooded area would be ideal.”

“And garlic? I know what that looks like, but should it be in the woods as well?”

“Yes, but look in a more shady area. I don’t know if it will be there, though. Garlic isn’t as common as Echinacea.”

“I’ll look around. How much do you need?”

“Um, as much as you can carry,” Fluttershy said. “And please hurry.”

Rainbow nodded once and jumped over the edge, streaking down to the ground as fast as she could.

“It’s okay, Twilight. Rainbow Dash will be back soon, and then I’ll do something to help you,” Fluttershy said softly.

Twilight heard her words, and understood them, but could think of no response. She nodded instead; her head hardly moved.

“Are you sure we’ll have enough time?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, I hope so.”

“Twilight?” Pinkie asked, walking over to see what was going on. She stopped at the sight of the purple unicorn on the floor; her eyes stared ahead glossily, her mouth hung open, and her frame was limp. She was still alive, clearly, but she looked lost. Pinkie waved a hoof in front of Twilight’s eyes, garnering no reaction. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?” Pinkie was afraid. She had never seen Twilight in such a state before.

“The infection just hit her all of a sudden,” Fluttershy said. “One moment she was okay, the next she was like this.”

“What’s gonna happen?”

“Rainbow Dash is gathering some medicine right now.”

“Will it cure her?”

“No, but it will slow the infection’s progress.”

“That’s… good?”

“It’s the best we have,” Rarity said.

“We’re ‘bout ten minutes away,” Applejack said. “How’s it goin’ back there?”

“Not well, I’m afraid,” Rarity said. “Twilight’s worsening already; she isn’t even responding to us anymore.”

“Can she last ‘til we land?”

“She should,” Fluttershy said, not having the heart to remind Applejack that they were still some hours away from the medicine being ready. She looked over the gunwale to see Rainbow returning to them, wings working extra hard for her to catch up with the ship. She smiled appreciatively; only a few minutes had passed. Rainbow had truly gone as fast as she could.

She landed on the deck next to Pinkie, panting, and dropped a bundle of purple flowers. “Sorry, Fluttershy, but I couldn’t find any garlic.”

“It’s okay, Rainbow.” She began nipping off the Echinacea roots, discarding the flowers into a colorful pile. When she had a small mound of roots, she looked back at Twilight. “Help me turn her over. I want her infection facing up.” She slipped her hooves under Twilight’s underbelly, and Pinkie took her other side. At this, Twilight stirred, her back legs slowly kicking out and scraping the floor.

“It’s okay, Twilight,” Fluttershy said in her ear. They turned her over, and Fluttershy took a couple root tips and began squeezing them between her front hooves, stabilizing herself with her wings. “Hold her still,” Fluttershy said, and Pinkie grabbed her back legs as Fluttershy dripped the root’s juices into the wound. Twilight shivered in pain, but made no sound; she could feel the thin liquid burning her exposed flesh, but all she could do was shut her eyes and squeeze them tighter with each new bolt of pain. Pinkie held her down until Fluttershy had squeezed half the roots out.

“There. That should be enough,” Fluttershy said, brushing the flowers away.

“Should I keep holding her down?” Pinkie asked.

“Oh, no, but don’t let her get up. She might hurt herself.”

They all backed up, giving Twilight some space, and Fluttershy looked over the rail again. They were just crossing over the Ponyville borders, and ponies were looking up at them curiously, standing on their own segments, lost. Like Canterlot, the town had been reduced to a rubble-coated, fragmentary collection of angular pieces. Most homes had become wicker-yellow, thatched piles of bent debris, while those that survived—Sugarcube Corner, among a few other, smaller, houses—sat askance and unhealthily on upset foundations or cracked walls. The blue-and-black nothing between the pieces contrasted with the deadly stillness like veins in a destroyed eye.

With this as her view, Fluttershy began thinking of what she would need to do when they landed; the steps to making the medicine listed themselves off in her mind as easily as recalling the letters of the alphabet. “Step one: separate distilled water into two alembics. Step two: add ether and phlogiston to their respective alembics. Step three: boil both, and grind up Echinacea and garlic into a ratio of eight to three grams.” She had followed these steps only six times in her experience in animal care, but had committed them to memory just the same as the other procedures she knew. She knew that few ponies appreciated, or were even aware of, her knowledge of natural remedies, thinking her gifted only in the caretaking of animals. She didn’t mind.

She watched the Ponyville park drift past, mostly contained to its own section of ground. Here, too, ponies aimlessly roved around on it, confused, lost, afraid. How would they get back to their homes? Fluttershy felt sad for them, but knew she couldn’t afford to dwell on it. Not when Twilight’s life was on the line.

“Oh no,” Applejack said.

“What is it?” they all asked at once.

“Fluttershy, Ah think you better come over here.” Her voice was grave.

Fluttershy approached slowly and looked where Applejack indicated: her cottage—what was left of it—sat in a malformed pile in the distance. “Wha—is that… my house?”

“It’s the only one so close to the forest,” Applejack said softly.

“Oh no.” Fluttershy’s knees buckled. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind, most powerfully among them concern for her animals. Had they survived the collapse? Where had they gone? What if some had waited for her to return? She looked up at Applejack’s sympathetic face, and lay face-down on the deck. Her friend’s sorrow for her own suffering bled through her other thoughts, tinging them with self-pity. “How can it be that I have such caring friends?” She cried quietly, but before anypony could touch her, she got up and ran to a hatch in the back, disappearing below deck.

“She doesn’t want us to see her this upset,” Applejack said knowingly.

“Well, we can’t just let her hide like this,” Rainbow said.

“Well, we’ve got ‘bout five minutes ‘til we land. Somepony has to go talk to her.”

“I’ll do it,” Rarity said, walking toward the hatch.

“So what now?” Rainbow asked when Rarity had disappeared.

Applejack looked at her, then Pinkie, searching for an answer. “We’ve come too far fer this not to work,” she said simply.

“What about Zecora? She’s probably got all sorts of potions for Twilight,” Pinkie said.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Rainbow said. “Zecora’s hut is really close to Fluttershy’s, too.”

Applejack thought. “Yeah, that’ll work. Pinkie, yer a genius. Which is good. We’re almost there. Go ahead an’ let some air out of the balloon.”

“Okey-dokey-lokey!” Pinkie yanked a rope that hung from the balloon’s mouth, releasing some of the hot air; they immediately began to descend.

Applejack could make out individual ponies. Most of them milled around uncertainly or gawked at the destroyed buildings, while some looked tentatively over the edges of the ground. She could see the farm more clearly as well, and was struck by the size of the split along it; it was at least twenty feet between the two halves, parallel shelves that cut up along the orchard. The back portion of the barn sat at one of the edges, leaning slightly inward with a dark brown furrow at its base, littered with boards and shingles. Its edges were tattered and splintered, a gaping mouth into the barn’s collapsed interior. Furniture and pieces of floor and wall were scattered on the tilted ramp of the fallen second floor, itself slick with the fountaining discharge of burst pipes. Only the roof remained, an insecure umbrella of red woodwork over a vast and empty space.

Applejack tried to see the other members of her family, but could not. It didn’t bother her as much she would have expected; her concern was for Twilight. She looked back; Rarity had not returned with Fluttershy yet, Pinkie was looking over the edge, and Rainbow was examining Twilight. “Fluttershy, Rarity, we’re gettin’ ready to land!” she called, and turned back to her wheel. “Pinkie, turn off the motors, would ya?”

Pinkie made no response, but the grumbling growl of the engines and propellers ceased shortly. They dropped as Pinkie released more air, and Rarity and Fluttershy slowly emerged from below. Fluttershy was still sniffling, but her tears had stopped for the time. She went to Twilight and examined her.

“What’re we gonna do when we land, Fluttershy?” Rainbow asked.

Fluttershy stopped sniffling at once, but looked at them anxiously. “Um, well…”

“We’re thinkin’ of goin’ to Zecora’s house fer the medicine,” Applejack said.

Fluttershy nodded, a smile spreading across her lips. “In that case, we need to carry Twilight off the airship and into the woods. I’m not strong enough, so I need somepony to do it for me. Um, Applejack, you do it.”

Applejack only nodded, quietly surprised at Fluttershy’s assertiveness on the topic. She knew pointing it out would only make her clam up.

“I know the way to Zecora’s, so I’ll lead. Rarity, stay up with me; we might need your magic to clear the way, or defend us from any forest creatures. Rainbow, you and Pinkie go to the rock farm and get that phlogiston, and return as quickly as you can. I’ll have all the other components of the medicine ready by then.”

“You got it, Fluttershy,” Rainbow said, giving a salute.

“Will you need me after Ah carry Twilight?” Applejack asked.

“Um, no, I don’t think so,” Fluttershy said.

“Good. Ah don’t mean to run off on y’all, but Ah have to get back to the farm an’ make sure everypony’s okay.”

“Of course, Applejack. Oh, um, and would you mind terribly checking on Sweetie Belle too? I want Rarity with me the whole time.”

“Sure, Ah can do that. Ah wouldn’t be surprised if she’s at the farm anyway.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“What do you need me for, Fluttershy?” Rarity asked.

“If you don’t mind, I need your help with setting everything up. It’ll go so much faster if I don’t have to move everything by hoof.”

“But of course, darling. Anything.”

“Get ready to touch down,” Applejack said, twisting the wheel to point their side toward the forest.

They landed softly on the field surrounding Fluttershy’s house, a little far from the forest’s edge, and Pinkie immediately extended the gangplank. With some help, Applejack heaved Twilight’s inert body onto her back and carried her down, Rarity and Fluttershy following them.

“Do you know how to find Zecora’s?” Rarity asked, and Pinkie nodded. “Then come as quickly as you can,” she said, looking at Twilight. “I don’t think we have much time,” she thought unhappily.

Rainbow watched them retreat into the forest as she settled herself in front of the wheel. She had watched Applejack steering it, and it looked easy enough, though the thick wood under her hooves was a little intimidating. Pinkie had already started the torch, and they were slowly floating back up.

“So where is this rock farm?” Rainbow asked.

“It’s about three miles south of here,” Pinkie answered, and Rainbow noted the lack of excitement in her voice. It was only natural, she supposed; Pinkie’s youth had been mostly dreary, as she recalled.

She worked the wheel around and pointed them south as they ascended. Unlike in Canterlot, there were no hedges or walls to contain them, and though they were only twenty feet off the ground, she told Pinkie to turn on the engines again.

As they began floating forward, Rainbow looked down at the ground, more out of habit than any real desire to see it. They were not high enough for her to see the world as she had on their way over, and for that, she was thankful. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around it, and was happy for anything to obviate any further confrontation with the unbelievable truth.

“So, Pinkie, tell me about this phlogiston. I know it explodes, but what is it, exactly?”

“I don’t know much about what it is, Dashie! I only know how to use it.”

“Okay, tell me that then.”

“Well, for starters, it’s reeeeeeeally dangerous, so you gotta be careful. Always pick it up with magic if you can, but if you only have your hoovsies like me then you gotta wear gloves, ‘cause if it gets in your fur and you’re not careful, boom! You can explode too!”

Rainbow shuddered at the thought. “Why do you know so much about it?”

“My father and sister used it all the time, and sometimes I did too. We used it to dig for more rocks.”

“You used that stuff to dig? Have you ever heard of a shovel?”

Pinkie laughed. “Silly Dashie, a shovel might hurt the rocks!”

Rainbow didn’t answer at first. “A shovel might hurt the rocks. Is she messing with me?” She looked back at Pinkie, and her face said she was not. “You’re saying a shovel might hurt the rocks, so instead of that, you use explosions.”

“Well, the best way to expose rocks is to use a force that has a lot of power in a lot of surface area, like an explosion. Shovels are all impact, Dashie; if you strike a rock, that hurts it. An explosion can hurt a rock at the impact site, but it’ll just push everything else around. Much better than digging for hours!”

“I guess that kind of makes sense,” Rainbow said. She was surprised at how readily Pinkie’s explanation came.

“Of course, you gotta make sure you don’t overdo the explosion, ‘cause that’s just as bad!”

“And what? Do you just throw it and duck or something?”

Pinkie laughed again. “No, Dashie! You bury it a little bit below the ground with the fuse still sticking out and then you light it, and then you run! It’s like a game!”

“How big are these explosions?”

“The ones we used were big enough to, hmmmm…” She put her hoof to her chin in thought. “Big enough to take out the bottom floor of the library, I’d say, or at least knock all the books off the shelves.”

“And how much phlogiston is used for that?”

“A couple grams.”

“Oh… my Celestia,” Rainbow said, momentarily too stunned to mark their passing over Ponyville’s border. She regrouped her thoughts. “So, where is this phlogiston kept? How are we gonna get it?”

“When I was young, we kept it in the top of the silo outside, where I had my first party! It should still be there. I’ll just slip in and grab some.”

“Can we just ask your dad or sister for some?” Had she been looking back, she would have seen Pinkie scowl for a moment, before recomposing her face.

“Nope, no-can-do, Dashie! There’s no way they’ll just let us have some. We’re gonna have to be sneaky!”

“Ugh, that’s gonna take too long, Pinkie. We need to get this stuff as fast as we can.”

“When we land, you get out and distract them, and I’ll run into the silo and grab it.”

“Me? Why don’t you distract them? You lived there. I’m sure you could keep them occupied much easier than me.”

“Dashie…” her voice was quiet all of a sudden, and though Rainbow didn’t look back, she detected the change in Pinkie’s demeanor.

“What?”

“I don’t want to see them.”

“Why? They’re your parents. I’m sure they’d be glad to see you again.”

“It’s… I just think you’d be better at keeping them distracted is all.” Her tone grew conversational again. “Plus, I can find the phlogiston much faster than you, plus I know how to carry it safely.”

“Eh, you got me there.” Rainbow looked to the side, where she could see Cloudsdale approaching, several thousand feet above them. The cloud city looked mostly intact, though it was quite clearly disturbed. She could see no pegasi flying around outside it, nor signs of weather production: no errant puffs of cloud, no dripping tails of rainbow liquid, no discharges of electricity from the small lightning facility that floated nearby.

“What am I gonna do?” Rainbow asked. “To distract them, I mean.” No response came, and she looked back. “Pinkie?”

“Oh, sorry Dashie. I wasn’t paying attention. What was that?”

“What are your parents like? What’s a good way to distract them?”

“Well, my father is really serious and grouchy all the time, and my mother is, um, also really serious, but not as grouchy.”

“And you said you have siblings here?”

“I think one of my sisters still works there,” she mumbled.

“Let me guess. She’s serious and grouchy too.”

“No, she’s nice,” Pinkie said. “At least, she was when I still lived there.”

“So I have two, maybe three total grouches to distract. That should be fun,” Rainbow grumbled. “Is there any chance of us not getting their attention at all?”

Pinkie’s voice had lost all of its exuberance, and she spoke in a businesslike tone that bothered Rainbow. “No chance at all. They’ll all be working when we arrive. They might not be near the silo, but they’ll see the ship. If anyone doesn’t come out, it’ll be my mother. She stays inside.”

“Great.” They had passed Cloudsdale and were drifting over empty fields, a swatch of green farmland in the near distance, under the cloud city’s shadow. They had risen significantly, and Rainbow could make out a crack in the ground not far from them.

Rainbow slowly exhaled and tried to think of how she would distract Pinkie’s parents. Based on what Pinkie said, she doubted they were the types to enjoy an air show. Could she just talk to them? If they were as serious and grouchy as Pinkie said, they might just ignore her. She would need a good excuse ready.

When the engine died, and they began to descend, she still had not come up with an idea she liked. Every conversational route seemed too silly for her, but the only other thing she could do was dazzle them with her aerial tricks—which, according to Pinkie, would probably go unappreciated.

“I think I can see the silo from here,” Pinkie said with a sigh. “We’ll know who we’ll have to distract when we get closer.”

Rainbow, too, could see the silo: an unadorned, gray tower in the middle of a dismal, mottled gray field that fit on its own patch of floating land with room for little else. Two dots moved slowly around on it, one right next to the silo and the other behind the house.

“Okay,” Rainbow started. “I’ll distract them. Somehow. You just get that phlogiston as quickly as you can, okay?”

“Sure thing, Dashie,” Pinkie said. “Oh, um, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“I don’t want them to know I’m here, so don’t say anything about me, okay?”

“Okay.” She wanted to ask Pinkie why, but resisted; Pinkie didn’t look up to talking about it.

They got closer, and Rainbow could see the pony near the silo stop moving; they had been seen. The pony on the far side of the house was heading their way as well.

“Pinkie, can you tell who those are?”

“Um, that’s my father near the silo, and that’s probably my sister heading towards him.”

“Is your mom in the house?”

“Probably.”

“Is she likely to come out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Terrific.”

They were fifty feet off the ground, and Rainbow could just make out some details on the ponies beneath them; Pinkie’s father looked up at them, his flat-brimmed hat leaning dangerously off his head. Pinkie’s sister was approaching slowly and deliberately, her gray-purple coat and gray mane camouflaging her among the stony landscape. As they got closer, Rainbow could make out their cutie marks: his, a hammer, and hers, a small black circle with a thin white hair coming out its top—a bomb. She joined her father and watched the airship float down to them.

Rainbow turned and saw Pinkie crouching along one of the gunwales; she smiled weakly at Rainbow, who returned it uncertainly and looked back down. She could make out the details on their faces now; both father and sister wore grim expressions of disinterest, almost impatience, as the ship came to meet them.

“How can Pinkie come from such a miserable family?” she wondered. They stopped, swaying a little from the hard landing. Pinkie’s father and sister backed up to avoid the resulting dust cloud, but did not avert their eyes from Rainbow, who was already beginning to feel nervous sweat on her brow.

She extended the ramp and strolled out as casually as she could, quickly appraising the ponies before her. The father was a dirt-brown stallion of narrow, wiry proportions, a perfect set of iron-gray sideburns wreathing a hard, harsh face. A wheat stem stuck out of his mouth, set between white brick teeth in a sharp square jaw. By his side stood Pinkie’s sister, a dark, gray-purple golem of a pony with dead-looking, bronze eyes. Her mane was a steel curtain of straight hair that covered her forehead and neck. She was short and muscular, her hooves cracked and black, her legs miniature tree trunks. She looked like she could split Rainbow in half without even trying.

“Um, hi,” Rainbow started, and the two earth ponies simply stared at her. “Uh, my name is Rainbow Dash, and I’ve come here today to, um.” “Think, Rainbow, think! Why are you here?” “To sell tickets to this year’s upcoming Grand Galloping Gala!” She flourished her wings, and they still stared. “Um, so, um, are you interested?”

“Interested in your tickets,” the sister deadpanned.

“Yes,” Rainbow responded, happy that she could at least muster that answer calmly.

“We are not interested,” the father said, his voice dry and firm.

“Aw, come on, you can’t just say no so easily!” Rainbow said, moving to face them from a different side; they turned to keep their eyes on her, and as soon as they did, she saw a pink blur shoot over to the silo.

“If you truly are selling tickets, then why do I not see you holding any?” the sister asked. “Suppose we did want them; how do you give them to us?”

Rainbow froze. “Oh, well, that’s because, um, the tickets themselves aren’t actually for sale yet.”

The sister sighed impatiently.

“Because it’s so far in the future, you know, they haven’t actually printed them.”

“Then what is it that you are selling?” the father asked.

Rainbow was sweating, but she couldn’t tell whether the others had noticed; their expressions seemed carved from the stone that surrounded them. “I’m selling… er, spots! Yes, spots. See, so many ponies want to attend the Gala so far in advance, uh, that a lot of the time, tickets run out too soon. Too soon for ponies to, you know, buy them. And, uh, go to the Gala. But I’m here to offer you a spot on the list of ponies who’ve already bought tickets, so you don’t have to worry about buying one when they are printed.”

“That is a reservation.”

“Uh… yeah, heh, I guess it is.” She reached up and rubbed the back of her head. “Come on, Dash, get it together!”

“Why do you fly all the way out here to sell us this?” the sister asked.

“Because I care about you, and I want you to have the best possible chance of attending the Gala this year,” she said with a smirk. “Slick.”

“We will not attend the Gala. I heard last year’s was a disaster,” the father said.

“Last year was an unbridled success!” Rainbow cried, a little surprised. “It just got a little out-of-hoof at the end.”

“The palace was damaged.”

“No, not at all! It was, um, redecorated!” She glanced at the sister; her eyes bored into Rainbow’s with unflinching coldness, and she looked away quickly, fixing her gaze on the space between their ears. “Some of the, uh, guests decided that the palace needed redecorating, so they tried to do it during the party.” She laughed nervously. “Simple as that.”

“What kind of guest redecorates a party during the party?” the sister asked.

Seeing an opportunity, Rainbow leaned in a little, and they stepped forward, once. “Have you ever heard of Rarity? She’s a fashion designer, super high-class, and her home is in Ponyville. She was at the Gala last year, and as a matter of fact, she was the one who instigated the whole redecorating thing.” She smiled smugly, proud of herself for the lie. “I’ll admit it was a little excessive, but you know how fashion designers can be.”

“I have not heard the name,” the father said, and the sister nodded in agreement.

“You’ve never heard of Rarity? But she’s huge! Her designs are in Canterlot of all places! How can you have never heard of her?”

“We do not pay attention to fashion.” Before Rainbow could think of more to say, he continued. “You are wasting our time. No sale.”

They favored her with long, bored stares, before eventually turning away in the directions of their respective parts of the farm.

“Oh Celestia, Rainbow, don’t let them get away! Think! Think!” “W-wait!”

They turned back to her, the sister only partially.

“Uh, um, I… er.”

They turned away again.

“Can I get a job here?”

They stopped, and turned back once more, icily slow. “You come here selling tickets that you do not actually have, and now you want to work for me,” the father said darkly.

Rainbow could only nod stupidly, her thoughts entirely frozen.

He approached her, and it took all of her courage to not back away from his stern eyes. “What are you doing here, exactly?”

“Do not take us for fools, Rainbow Dash,” the sister said from behind, startling her. She hadn’t seen her come close.

“I—honest. I want a job here. Right here, on this, uh, this rock farm.”

“What are you hiding?” the father asked.

“Nothing!” Her conviction rose as she tried to defend herself.

The father looked her in the eyes for a second, then turned away again.

“Oh Celestia, oh Celestia, he’s getting away! Where’s Pinkie? Come on, Dash, you’re letting him get away! Say something! Anything!” She faltered a couple syllables, and neither of them reacted. “Pinkie’s sick!” “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, what did I just say?”

They turned, still slowly, and the father fixed her square in the eyes. “You know her.”

Rainbow felt petrified. “Uh, we’re friends.”

“Why do you tell me this now?”

“She is stalling for time,” the sister said, and Rainbow flinched, but, recognizing a chance to stall more, turned on her.

“Stalling for time?” she repeated, feigning indignation. “For what?”

“I do not know, but hoofsteps on the ramp to your ship tell me that there is another pony here.”

Rainbow withered inside, and the sister, seeing the expression on her face, gave a slight sneer.

“Did you hear them, father?”

“I did not.”

“I counted them twice.”

“Hang on,” Rainbow said desperately. “Where is Pinkie?” “If you counted them twice, why’d you wait to bring it up?”

“I was not certain I had heard correctly. It could have been the ship settling.”

The father advanced on Rainbow, stopping right in front of her face. “What are you up to, pegasus?” he growled.

Rainbow was cornered, and she could do nothing but look from side to side, terrified. The father looked closely at her, sizing her up, it seemed. He shook his head and turned away.

“Pathetic,” he said. “Investigate the hoofsteps, Limestone.”

He walked away, and Rainbow let him go; she had nothing more to say, and doubted he would listen to it anyway. Mortified, she followed after the sister, who wasted no time in entering the silo.

“Uh, wait!”

The sister—Limestone—waited for her, face sour. “What now, pegasus?”

“You’re Pinkie’s sister, right?”

“…I am.”

“I—look, you’re a reasonable pony, so—”

“I know she is here.” She stepped to the ladder, and Rainbow followed, completely speechless.

“You know that…” “She might be bluffing.” “Who is here?”

“My sister. Did you think that I was bluffing?”

Rainbow said nothing.

“I heard the hoofsteps, yes, but I also saw her very clearly. My sister has never been one for sneaking around.”

Rainbow simply stared, and Limestone sighed.

“Since you cannot respond, let me continue.” Her tone dropped menacingly. “What do you think you are doing here? Trying to distract us while she sneaks into the silo to do… something. If I did not know better, I would think it was another of her asinine parties.”

“I thought you liked her parties.”

Limestone stared, appalled. “Why would you think that?” She shook her head slightly. “Never mind. That is not important. What is important is why she is here. If father finds out…”

“What?”

“He would be displeased.”

Rainbow stuttered, fishing for a response. Her mind was a jumble. “W-why?”

“Why what?”

“I, um, I—”

“You are useless,” Limestone said, starting up the ladder. “Pinkamena, I know you are in here.”

Rainbow had no choice but to follow her, flying slowly up to the second, third, and fourth floor, feeling absolutely crushed.

“Sis?” Pinkie called; she sounded scared, meek—as defeated as Rainbow felt. They made it to the fifth floor, where Pinkie, hooves coated in ugly, rubber gloves, was gathering a bundle of thin-nosed bottles. A cloudy, yellow liquid sloshed disgustingly inside.

“What are you doing?” Limestone sounded calm as ever, but Pinkie shrank away, putting the bottles down carefully. “What cause do you have to come here and steal my phlogiston?”

“Limestone, please.”

“You remember my name.”

Pinkie looked at her, and her sister returned the expression remorselessly. All at once, thoughts of Fluttershy, Twilight, Equestria, and Discord had vanished, replaced by the infinite moment.

“Please,” Pinkie whispered. “Not now.”

“Of course. Not in front of this pegasus. Why do you come to steal my phlogiston?”

Pinkie didn’t respond, so Rainbow stepped forward. “Our friend is hurt with a magical infection. We need this phlogiston to use in a medicine.”

“A medicine that uses phlogiston? Is your aim to kill her quickly?”

“No! The phlogiston’s supposed to, um, do something! Burn off the magic or something!”

“I do not believe you.”

“Limestone, please!” Pinkie wheezed, and they looked at her. “Our friend is dying, and we need this stuff! Even if we didn’t, don’t you think I’d be pretty desperate to come back here to get it?”

Limestone considered this for a moment. “Fine. Leave this, and get off the farm immediately. Do not bother replacing what you already have. Do not let father see you.” She turned away and began climbing down the ladder, and Pinkie followed, Rainbow behind her.

They made it to the ground floor, and Limestone opened the door, looking from side to side to see whether her father was nearby. Seeing that he was not, she walked out into the fields, not looking back at either of them, even as they rumbled to life in the airship.

They rose into the air, and soon, they were slicing their way back toward Ponyville, several capped bottles of phlogiston lying on the deck. For a few moments, nopony said anything, but the tension was too much for Rainbow.

“Sooooo, what the hay just happened?”

Pinkie didn’t respond, and she looked back at her; Pinkie was staring out at the sky, her face serious.

“Pinkie?” Rainbow asked, growing more concerned with each passing moment of the earth pony’s silence.

“She was being merciful,” Pinkie finally said.

“Who? Your sister? She didn’t seem so merciful to me.”

Pinkie said no more until they had landed outside the Everfree Forest.

To Fluttershy’s immense relief, Zecora had all the supplies she needed to make Twilight’s medicine. She knew, if that were not the case, she could go back to her house and try to dig through the rubble, but the thought of it put her on the verge of tears. She already had so much to worry her; returning to her ruined cottage could very easily put her over the edge into debilitating hysteria.

Zecora helped her grind up the Echinacea and garlic and combine them into their container, and then left her to set up the alembics, both half full of distilled water, and one mixed with the ether—the medium in which the cleansing phlogiston would be mixed, to chosen to carry it into the wound without reducing its potency. Zecora remained in the kitchen, giving Fluttershy the space she needed, but looking out every so often to see whether she could be of assistance.

Twilight lay on a cot next to the wall, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged. She stirred every now and again, but Fluttershy could tell she didn’t have long. Zecora had given her some medication of her own—a few herbal remedies to slow the spread of the infection, and one to bolster Twilight’s immune system, but the best they could do was buy time until Pinkie returned.

Applejack had left for the farm twenty minutes ago, and Rarity stayed by Twilight’s side the entire time, sometimes talking to her, but mostly just watching. Fluttershy could tell that Rarity was close to panic, as was she; now that she had reached a lull in her work, she could afford some time to collect her thoughts. Few of them were good. Twilight, the Apple family, Sweetie Belle, her animals. They were all in danger, and she could do nothing for them.

“How long has it been since Pinkie and Rainbow left?” Rarity asked.

“It’s been about forty minutes now,” Fluttershy said huskily; her voice was strained from giving orders and explaining procedures, as well as suppressing terrified sobs.

“How long do we have?”

“I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. Sighing, she called Zecora in. “Zecora, um, would you mind going over near my cottage and waiting for Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie? Just in case they need help finding your house.” She truly didn’t need it; she knew they could find the hut easily enough. But she needed something to take her mind off the waiting, even momentarily.

“It would be my pleasure, Fluttershy, to be their help and be their guide,” Zecora said.

Fluttershy smiled a little; the zebra’s rhymes always cheered her.

“But be careful when you’re all alone, for dangerous things are in my home.”

Fluttershy nodded, and Zecora exited the house, leaving Fluttershy again with nothing to do except watch Rarity and Twilight. “Please hurry, Pinkie,” she whispered, and Rarity looked up at her.

“I’m sure they’re on their way,” Rarity said, trying to smile.

Fluttershy nodded once and let a tear roll down her face. Twilight couldn’t wait much longer, and there was nothing either of them could do.

For a little while, the only sounds were the ambient noise of the forest and Twilight’s slow breath, but Fluttershy soon grew aware of voices in the distance. She started up quickly and went to the door; she couldn’t see them yet, but she could hear Zecora and Rainbow approaching, speaking about the phlogiston. Pinkie’s voice was absent.

When they entered the clearing, they made straight for Fluttershy, both looking unhappy. “Help Pinkie pour the phlogiston,” Rainbow said, holding the door.

Pinkie went to Fluttershy’s side and poured a little of the bitter-smelling fluid into the alembic, moving slowly and carefully—more so than Fluttershy had ever seen. The phlogiston was light and watery, and its surface fizzed with an ominous hiss that made Fluttershy want to cringe away. She watched it collect in the alembic’s bottom slowly, swirling together with the water in miniature clouds and coils, raising a hoof wordlessly to tell Pinkie to stop. She called Rarity over, who carefully placed them on a pair of small fires.

“I thought you said the phlogiston isn’t supposed to be heated,” Rainbow said.

“That’s what the distilled water is for. The phlogiston mixes with it, which reduces is flash point enough for it to evaporate without exploding.”

Rainbow looked at her blankly.

“Um, I don’t completely understand it. All I know is this is an indirect way to heat the phlogiston—indirect enough not to set it off. The phlogiston should evaporate and drip into the jar of powders I have here.”

“What about the rest of the phlogiston? We have about a dozen bottles.”

“A dozen?” Fluttershy said, not looking away from her work.

“Yeah, about. Why? Is that too much?”

“Oh, um, well, just a little bit. I’m sorry.” She blushed. “I only needed as much as I used just now.”

“So what do we do with the rest? Can we just bring it with us?”

“Oh no, I’m afraid that would be too dangerous.”

“Well, what do we do then?”

“Can’t we just dispose of it?” Rarity asked.

“We might be able to,” Fluttershy said, “but it will be very difficult to do that safely, especially in Ponyville.” Fluttershy looked at Pinkie, who looked back dully.

“Pinkie, darling, you seem awfully quiet. What’s the matter?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing, Rarity! I’m just being quiet for Fluttershy here! She needs her concentration. Right, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, um, not really, no. I just need to make sure these heat properly at the moment.”

“How long until it’s ready, Fluttershy?” Rainbow interjected.

“About an hour.”

“Didn’t you say two hours when we were in Canterlot?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, um, yes, I think so. But I had the wrong amount of phlogiston in mind.”

“Well, that’s good.” Rarity went back to Twilight’s side. “Just hang on for another hour, Twilight,” she whispered, and Rainbow joined her.

“How’s she doing?” Rainbow asked.

“Not well, I’m afraid. Her breathing’s shallow, her pulse is weak, she fidgets whenever I touch her, and she’s been sweating nonstop. Her coat is positively ruined!”

“Let’s just hope that’s all that gets ruined.”

Pinkie came up next to them. “Come on, Twilight, you can do it. Just one more hour, and Fluttershy will have you all fixed up.”

Twilight didn’t move; she had barely heard the words. She only recognized Pinkie’s voice, associating it with all the good memories she had of attending her parties.

They waited anxiously, with Rainbow stepping outside every few minutes to see how far the sun had moved through a small hole in the trees. At the half hour mark, with the sickly yellow medicine steadily dripping with its ether into the small concoction of dried and powdered herbs, Twilight began to mutter. Her eyes opened and her mouth moved slowly, her teeth sawing back and forth as if in distress. Rarity gently sponged her forehead, but it did little to soothe her.

When the medicine was ready, Twilight had stopped her mumbling, but stared straight ahead with dilated pupils and a racing pulse. Fluttershy approached timidly, not wanting to frighten Twilight. She carried a broad, wooden tool, smeared with a thick, dark yellow paste, the smell of which made their eyes water.

At Fluttershy’s instruction, Rarity flipped Twilight onto her side and, with Rainbow at her front, held down her hind legs; Twilight didn’t resist.

Fluttershy leaned in and looked at Twilight’s pastern, ringed with ghastly thin, black lines that, she knew, under the fur, traveled up her body toward her chest. The wound exuded thick, dark pus that smelled faintly, and Fluttershy wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like having her face so close to it.

She slowly began spreading the paste on Twilight’s wound, and Twilight immediately broke into a spasm, her legs trying to kick, her body bucking back and forth like a broken toy. Still, her face didn’t change. Rarity held her back legs firmly, and Fluttershy continued spreading the potion, digging deep into the wound, scrubbing the raw flesh and even pressing under the loose flaps of skin. Twilight uttered a strangled, dying cry, and they all started.

“Keep holding her,” Fluttershy said softly, dropping the implement and moving up to stroke Twilight’s head, hoping to comfort her. Twilight gave another, weaker, cry, and her kicks eventually abated. She settled and lay peacefully again, her breathing already losing some of its choppy thinness. They watched her tentatively.

“Is it working?” Rarity asked.

“So far, yes,” Fluttershy said.

“Come on Twilight! You’ve got this! You’re not going to get beaten by some stupid infection!” Rainbow encouraged.

Twilight twitched, and they backed up suddenly; she twitched again, and rolled her head. Her eyes swiveled, and they looked clearer. She looked around, still not fully registering all she saw. To her, her friends were nothing but blotches of color against the tepid backdrop of Zecora’s hut.

“Can you hear me, Twilight?” Rarity asked, and Twilight let out a groan. Rarity looked at Fluttershy and Rainbow excitedly. “I—I think she can hear me!”

“Just stay where you are, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, placing a hoof on her head.

“A-ay.”

They looked at each other, puzzled. “What?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight rolled over and tried to stand, but Fluttershy pressed her back onto the cot. “There, there, Twilight. You’re okay now. You just get some rest, and you’ll be all better soon.”

Twilight struggled to produce a response: “Lie-ay.”

“What is she saying?” Rarity asked.

“Lie-ay? Maybe ‘fly away’?” Rainbow offered.

“That doesn’t make any sense, darling.”

“Lie-ay, lie-ay,” Fluttershy repeated to herself. It made no sense, and she felt silly doing it.

“Lie-ay, lie—library!” Rarity exclaimed. “She probably wants to go back home.” “Oh, Twilight, I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said, “but you’re in no condition to move around right now.”

Twilight lolled her head back dumbly and closed her eyes again. Fluttershy adjusted her pillow, and as soon as she had, Twilight was asleep.

“Once she wakes up, she should be better,” Fluttershy said. “I hope.”

“In the meantime, we should consider finding something to eat,” Rarity said, not taking her eyes off Twilight.

They all nodded, and Rainbow turned to Zecora, who watched from the kitchen threshold. “Zecora, do you have anything here for us to eat?”

She smiled. “The food I eat is not in storage, for all I find is in the forest.”

“Well, can you guide us to something? Or bring us something? Or something?” “I can show you where to find a meal while you wait for Twilight to heal.”

“I need to stay here and watch her,” Fluttershy said.

“We’ll bring you back something,” Rainbow said as she and the others followed Zecora outside.

“So, you get all your food from the forest?” Rarity asked, and Zecora simply nodded. Rarity felt strange walking with her; she had never gotten to know Zecora too well, and with their sudden and dire appearance, and Twilight recovering in her hut, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were, by their collective presence, asking too much of their host. Zecora’s reticence, she told herself, was likely out of respect for their situation, but it bothered her still.

They were led through a row of trees and down into a small ditch, underneath parallel rows of bushes and short, rough-barked trees and onward into a patch of short, prickly scrub. They were well into the underbrush when Rainbow looked back and saw Rarity standing at its edge; she flew back to her.

“Rarity, what’s the holdup?”

“Do we have to walk through this?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I dunno. Ask Zecora.”

“I don’t want to get stickers in my coat.”

“Rarity, does it really matter? You’re already dirty and tangled from last night.”

“A little dirt is no excuse to lower my standards even further.”

Rainbow sighed. “Well, we’re going to go with Zecora to get some food. You can come with us, or stay behind.”

Rarity groaned. “Then I will be back at the hut,” she said with a quick turn. “Bring me back something nice, would you, Rainbow Dash?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Rarity began walking back, and Rainbow returned to Zecora, tersely relaying where she had gone.

“Your fashionable friend is afraid of dirt, though nopony it has ever hurt.”

“Yeah, that.” Rainbow looked at Pinkie; her expression was faraway and empty. She wondered whether Pinkie even saw her surroundings, or was just following them mindlessly. “Pinkie? Hey, Pinkie?”

Pinkie didn’t answer immediately, but slowly turned to regard Rainbow with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“What’s going on, Pinkie? You’ve been like this ever since we left the farm. Was meeting your sister really that bad?”

Pinkie took a moment before answering, and Rainbow thought she was going to keep her silence. “Sorry, Dashie.”

Rainbow wanted to brighten at Pinkie’s use of her nickname, but couldn’t. The name sounded cold and sad this time.

“I just have a lot of memories.”

“Are they… good?” Rainbow asked.

“Some of them. Those are the ones I’m trying to focus on.”

“But it’s hard sometimes, isn’t it?” Rainbow wanted to ask the question, but dared not.

Zecora stopped and swept a hoof over a small clearing. “We have arrived, my pony friends; this is where your hunger ends.”

The rest of the forest was dark, sinister, and full of frightening shadows and hostile-looking flora; here, the little field was full of wildflowers, and fresh, green grass, and bundles of mushrooms, all sun-speckled and calm. They could smell a stream nearby.

Everything they picked, they piled onto Rainbow’s back, her wings forming a table of sorts. Most everything they saw, Zecora said, was edible, and she disappeared into the woods for a few moments, returning with some clusters of cherries.

They walked back, Zecora leading again, slowly so as not to rush Rainbow and her precarious load, and returned to the hut within ten minutes. Inside, Rarity was talking with Fluttershy, and Twilight was sitting up, appearing to listen; in reality, she was watching the two pony-shaped blurs move as they conversed, taking comfort in their presence. As soon as they saw Rainbow’s haul, they dropped the conversation and helped unload it onto an empty table. Food had never looked so good to any of them.