This can’t be happening.

The shock at having been outed paralyzed her. She could only helplessly watch as Agent Holmes looked at the phone on her forelimb.

How could I’ve been so stupid!

Holmes, on the other hoof, almost seemingly out of boredom, asked, “Is there a reason you have Mrs. Coleman’s phone?”

He didn’t figure it out?

Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.

Think… why would I give my phone to “Common Ground.”

And once she had come up with a reason, convincingly disguise her voice as she gave it.

Or just return to Equestria and never come back.

The existence of that option, however iffy or undesirable it might be, was the only thing restraining her emotions as this disaster sank in.

“Because that is Meg Coleman,” Agent Fowler said, as if admitting she believed in the tooth fairy. A pin drop could be heard, if not for the drone of the air conditioners and the generators powering them.

Holmes glared at her in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

She didn’t back down, keeping her eyes locked on the ponified human. After taking a deep breath, she continued, knowingly digging a deeper hole for herself. “Here are the facts. Her face resembles Meg’s. She hasn’t said a word, most likely because her voice is identical to Meg’s. Steve had said we’d be surprised at how well they could fit in.” She took another breath. “And most importantly, Twilight is capable of turning her into a pony.”

Holmes did not know what to say to that. No one did, least of all Meg. And that phone was recording it all.

“Say something, Meg,” Fowler said, almost begging. “Please.”

The pegasus looked at the ground, avoiding the agent’s eyes, as she desperately searched for some way out. Flying away would only confirm it, as would keeping her mouth shut; “Common Ground” would have no reason to do those things.

Face it: I’ll be living the rest of my life in Equestria.

And then, with sickeningly clarity, she knew that escaping to Equestria wouldn’t work; her destiny would, somehow, make sure of it.

Is this what you have to put up with, Twilight?

Meg lifted her head, returning Fowler’s gaze. “You got me,” she said. “Happy?”

Rainbow Dash took that as her cue, shoving her face in front of the agent’s, forcing her to lean back. “So now you know. What ya gonna do to her?”

“Rainbow, back off!” While Meg was touched by this display of loyalty, it was going to get her shot. The only reason a gun wasn’t already aimed at her was because Holmes was caught off guard by the pegasus’ sheer speed. He was reaching for it when Rainbow Dash reluctantly took Meg’s advice and backed off, though still glaring defiantly at the agent.

Fowler was too flustered to answer. It was unlikely she had thought that far ahead.

Holmes left his gun holstered, but kept his eyes fixed on the pegasus. “Nothing,” he theatrically declared. “We are going to do nothing. It is not a federal crime to change species.”

His eyes scanned the other ponies and Steve. “Will this get any absurder?” he dryly asked. “Though, to be honest, this would be hard to top.”

Twilight had only been observing, not knowing what to make of this new development. She remained silent. Rainbow Dash, for a change, stayed silent too.

Somepony ought to answer that question, and since nopony else was going to, Meg decided it was up to her. “No, I don’t think so—not by much, certainly.”

“Good,” he said, relieved.

Meg was feeling a strange calm, a sense that if this was destiny at work, then it all had to work out in the end. That feeling was unlikely to last—Twilight was proof—but she might as well enjoy it while it did. And, to be fair, nothing awful has happened yet.

Or has it… Meg pointed at the phone that was still recording all this. “Who will see that?”

Holmes followed her outstretched hoof. He looked at the phone, contemplating it as he shielded his eyes from the intense sun. “It won’t go on youtube, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He said it as much to warn the assistant as to inform Meg. Returning his attention to the inconvenient pegasus, he said, “It will be seen by those who will be interested in meeting with you.”

Meg exchanged looks with Twilight. This could be huge.

“Like who?” Meg asked. In an ideal world, it would be diplomats from the State Department, maybe even the Secretary of State himself. But that would require everyone to take seriously the actual existence of cartoon ponies.

“That depends a great deal on how they react to this video—and my report,” he said, clearly not looking forward to it.

“I don’t envy you,” said Steve. It didn’t matter how convincingly realistic it looked, it would be easier to believe it was fake. Hollywood was too good at it.

“It could be worse,” Holmes replied, shrugging it off. “There’s been a steady stream of visitors to the apartment we rented next door to yours, all wanting to see this new physics for themselves. We even encourage them to bring their own equipment, to rule out the possibility of tampering. What’s one more impossibility?”

Meg could almost feel sorry for them. “I’m surprised that’s been kept out of the news.”

“It’s been kept under wraps as a potential threat to national security. That’s one reason we want the doll here, in the middle of nowhere. Another, obviously, was to stop the interference with broadcasts.” He nodded his head towards the tractor trailer. “It also gives us the freedom to conduct experiments that would be inappropriate in a residential neighborhood.”

The agent fixed his gaze on the alicorn. “Without the doll, however…” He waved his hand across the now pointless vehicles.

“I already took care of the broadcast interference,” she replied.

“I’m sure you’d have no objection to us verifying that,” he said. “But that’s now beside the point; it’s no longer our only interest in the doll.”

The rising sun bore down on them. Meg wished she had a lighter coat color, like Rainbow Dash. The cyan pegasus hovering by her didn’t seem to be suffering yet. One of those cooling potions would soon be needed if they didn’t all crowd inside one of the air-conditioned RVs—or rap things up so they can go home.

Twilight was trying her best to do so. “You’re only interested in the doll because our magic is flowing out from it. Other arrangements for access to magic could be made. I have no objection to you conducting experiments on magic. I’m even willing to assist you.”

Fowler got down in front of Twilight. “Look, I understand why you’re protective of that doll. But we can do a far better job of protecting it. Where are you going to keep it? Obviously not with the Colemans. Not in Equestria either, otherwise you’d have done that in the first place.”

Twilight had no immediate answer to that. Meg knew it was an option to take the doll to a small, uninhabited island in the middle of an ocean, but could pegasi fly that far? Could they be sure they wouldn’t be detected and traced? Maybe leaving it here might not be such a bad option, especially if they could get something in return.

“I am to have unrestricted access to the doll,” Twilight finally said, coming to a similar conclusion. “That is non-negotiable.”

“That’s reasonable,” Fowler nodded.

“And when I figure out how to stop the flow of magic,” the alicorn continued, “you will not get in the way.”

“Okay.”

Not too bad, all things considered, Meg thought. Nor could she complain that attention had been diverted from her current species. Maybe her life hasn’t been ruined.

Holmes seemed content to let Fowler do the talking for now. That made sense, considering she was the pony expert. Meg wondered if My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic would soon become mandatory viewing for certain agents and other officials.

“And one last thing…” Twilight began to say, her tail slightly twitching as she swallowed her pride. “We can use some assistance.”

“What kind of assistance?” Holmes asked.

“The non-magical kind,” she replied, looking at Meg.

Meg looked back. Shouldn’t we have talked about this first? She could see the desperation in her eyes; they must really be running out of time to take a risk like this. At least it wasn’t hard to figure out what to ask for, if the only reason the mirror couldn’t be moved by her hot air balloon was because it was operated by magic.

Addressing the agents, Meg said, “We need to borrow the services of a helicopter for a few hours, and someone to fly it.”

Fowler blinked, then stood up. “Could you tell us what for?”

Meg turned back to Twilight; that was for the alicorn to answer.

And after a moment’s thought, she did. “We need to move a large object, the object through which magic is draining out of our realm and through that doll into yours. If it stays where it is, the growing zone of no magic will cause great harm.”

Fowler nodded in understanding, “And without magic, you can’t move it yourselves. How big is this object? Will it fit inside a helicopter?”

Twilight, of course, didn’t know the answer to that last question. Meg herself wasn’t sure. How big is that mirror? But more to the point, Twilight was still holding back specific details. “Twilight,” she whispered, as the alicorn’s ear swiveled to her voice, “they’re gonna find out anyway if they do it. It will help with planning.”

The alicorn simply nodded, her ears drooping a bit.

Fowler was the one who’d understand what she was about to say, so Meg said it to her. “It’s the mirror from Equestria Girls.” The agent’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know how big it is, but let’s assume it won’t fit and we’ll have to carry it underneath. Probably faster that way, and I suspect once we start moving it, we need to get it out of there ASAP.”

Twilight confirmed it. “Moving the mirror out to the balcony will bring it closer to the Crystal Heart.”

“Crystal Heart…” the agent muttered. “That’s real too?” She shook her head to clear her mind. “We need more information, like how to rig the mirror so we can lift it. And I assume you can move the helicopter directly to the Crystal Empire?”

Twilight frowned. “Not exactly. We can’t cross over near the anomaly—the mirror. It depends on how heavy one of these helicopters is, but I should be able to bring it across fifty to a hundred miles away.”

“Well… we should be able to do that on a full tank,” Fowler mused, putting her hand to her chin. “Guess you can fetch extra fuel if we need it.”

Holmes had been following along from the sidelines, not quite believing stuff like Crystal Hearts being seriously discussed. “It’s good that you’re all hitting it off, but aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?”

It wasn’t hard to guess what he meant. “Twilight,” Meg said, “I suggest Rainbow Dash go and bring the doll back.” Holmes nodded in agreement.

The pegasus hovered, waiting for a decision. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Go fetch the doll.”

Dash didn’t need to be told twice, taking off like a bullet, to the stunned amazement of the agents.

“She should be back in a few minutes,” Twilight informed them.

“No rainbow contrail?” Fowler asked, trying to follow the pegasus’ path with little success.

“No ambient magical field,” Twilight replied.

“Ah.” The junior agent turned towards the RV she was trapped in not that long ago. “I assume you’re the one who did something to that door to keep me inside?”

“Sorry about that,” Twilight sheepishly replied, also now looking at the door. “I just needed to delay you.”

She waved if off. “That’s water under the bridge. But could you undo whatever it was you did?”

“Of course.” Twilight trotted to the RV, Fowler close behind. Once she reached the door, she got up on her hind legs so she could touch her horn to the door at its edge, near the handle. A lavender flash later, a cylindrical piece of rock appeared and remained floating in the air. “That should do it.” She turned the handle and opened the door.

Fowler plucked the rock out of the air. “That’s how you did it,” she said, inspecting the cylinder. “You carved out this shape and teleported it into the door jamb.”

The mare returned all four hooves to the ground. “Yep. I had to improvise. Normally, I’d use a glue spell with a timed release, but a spell would have stopped working once I walked away.”

Fowler dropped the rock cylinder. It hit the dirt with a dull thud, barely bouncing once. “It was effective enough. I had to climb out a window.”

The agent walked over to the rear of the tractor trailer. “Let’s see if you really did stop it from broadcasting.” She pressed and held a button until the lift gate noisily tilted all the way down, revealing the interior of the trailer, then clambered up inside.

Twilight and Meg hovered near the entrance. Boxes were everywhere. Smaller ones were on shelves lining one side, while the larger boxes sat on the floor; all were secured for transport. Some were clearly marked with radioactive material decals. Twilight was practically drooling at the thought of all that exotic scientific equipment.

Fowler picked out a modest sized box and carried it back to the lift gate. Once there, she put it down and carefully hopped onto the ground. Using the lift gate as a makeshift table, she opened the box, pulled out an electronic device with a handheld antenna, turned it on and checked the settings, then proceeded to walk around, waving the antenna about as Twilight hovered close by, trying to look at the displays.

After circling around for a bit, the agent switched off the device. She turned to Holmes and said, “Nothing.”

Twilight gave a relieved sigh. “Thank Celestia, the simulation was accurate.”

Fowler quirked an eyebrow. “Simulation?”

That got Meg thinking. The one thing the government could do to help them was to provide access to substantial computing resources. They would want to know why, but was that a problem?

So what if they got their hands on the equations describing the magical field? Without a magical field, and no way to use magic even if there was one, what good would it do them? It would have been like giving a smartphone to one of those isolated, stone-age cultures that supposedly still exist in distant corners of the world, with no instructions on how to use it other than how to turn it on, no wireless infrastructure for it to talk to, and no way to recharge its battery.

Twilight was looking at her, delegating the task of answering the question.

On the upside, it would give humanity a taste of what it could negotiate for in trade.

Meg went for it. “Computer simulations using a genetic algorithm to determine a perturbation to the flowing magic, one that would prevent the emission of electromagnetic radiation when it underwent a phase change, which occurs when it thins out to a certain density. A solution was just found only hours ago. If it had completed a day or two earlier, I’m guessing we wouldn’t be here now.”

“Does it prevent the effect on radioactivity?”

Meg shook her head. “I don’t think so, no.”

“It probably wouldn’t have made much difference,” Fowler concluded. “As has been said, this has gone beyond broadcast interference.”

Only if we didn’t move the doll, Meg thought but did not say, as there was no point to correcting the agent’s erroneous assumption.

“Still, I’m surprised a computer can simulate that. Magic can be modeled with math? I take it Twilight provided the necessary equations.”

“She did, yeah,” Meg said, glancing at the pony in question. “It’s possible we may need to run other simulations, and it would be a big help if we had access to serious computing power.”

Just then, Rainbow Dash returned, coming to a sudden hover next to Twilight. This time she left behind a rainbow contrail—a disturbingly long one. Some of it had to be due to her carrying the doll with her, but it was also a sign of the increasing flow of magic.

Twilight removed the canvas bag from the top of pegasus’ saddle, extracted the doll from the bag, and levitated the doll over to Fowler, who grabbed it and quickly checked for the presence of Pinkie Pie’s autograph.

“Sure looks like the same doll, but I suppose we need a Geiger counter to be sure. Eduardo?”

The other assistant, the one not recording everything, hastily went to an RV.

Fowler fingered the crystal studded collar on the neck of the doll. “This is what does the—what was it?—the perturbation?”

“Yes,” Twilight replied.

“I suppose there’s not much point in asking how it works.”

Twilight affirmatively answered the rhetorical question with a smile.

Eduardo ran back to them, kicking lose some pebbles. After several seconds of holding it to the doll, the device still hadn’t clicked. “It’s turned on,” he said, answering the unspoken question.

“I guess that confirms it.” She turned to Holmes. “So now what?”

“Good question,” he said, his eyes fixed on the doll. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He unhurriedly walked to an RV and went inside. A few seconds later, he came out, holding a water bottle, and walked back. After taking a drink, he addressed the alicorn.

“Let’s assume I can get you that helicopter—not that I’m making any promises. And just to be clear, you are offering assistance in the study of how magic can benefit us.”

“I am,” Twilight declared.

“Then, for now, our business here is concluded,” he said, putting a hand on his hip as he took another drink of water. “You’re free to take the Colemans with you.”

Twilight smiled. “I’ll start preparing things on our end.” With a lavender glow, the flap to a saddlebag opened and the flow meter came out. As it floated to the ground, she said, “Meg, I’ll need you to come with me to the Crystal Empire. Rainbow Dash, go have Spike send a request—along with an explanation—for the Zephyr to be sent over A.S.A.P.”

“On it!” Rainbow Dash invoked the return spell and vanished.

What would Celestia think of this? Especially since precise summarization was not one of Rainbow Dash’s strengths. Hopefully, Spike would mention the source of the information.

“Agent Fowler, could you please put the doll on the ground, a foot away from this device? I’m measuring the properties of the flowing magic. I try to do this daily.”

“Sure,” the agent replied, as she did so, her eyes inspecting the device. “By the way…” she hesitantly began. “Shouldn’t one of us accompany you? We can’t just fly a helicopter without a clue of what we’re flying into.”

The alicorn finished writing down the measurements before answering. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “Who do you have in mind?” She moved the flow meter farther away for another set of measurements.

Fowler looked at her superior. “I’m most qualified, I’d think.”

Meg studied the agent. Maybe too qualified. Her request seemed as much wish fulfillment, her attempt to hide that notwithstanding, as a need to prepare for the upcoming mission.

Holmes thought it over as Twilight took the next set of measurements.

“How long will she be gone?” he finally asked.

She swapped the flow meter for the magic probe as she answered. “The rest of the day, easily. It’s a long trip. I should have her back by early evening.”

He looked askance at the alicorn, asking half-seriously, “She won’t come back a pony, will she?”

“I give you my word.” She recorded another set of measurements, frowning, and put her equipment away.

“Trust me,” Meg said, her eyes drilling into Fowler’s, “it’s not something to be done on a whim.” The agent opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it.

Steve was already by the alicorn’s side. Twilight looked between Holmes and Fowler. “I’m ready to go.”

Holmes came to a decision. “Fine. Take the Geiger counter with you.”

“Okay, let me just get my purse.” Fowler quickly went to an RV, the one she had been briefly trapped in, and a few seconds later came out wearing her purse. She swung by Eduardo to get the Geiger counter, then stopped in front of Twilight, doing her best to maintain a professional demeanor.

Twilight didn’t waste any more time. She concentrated, engulfing the two humans in her magic, and invoked the return spell. Meg followed suit.

Fowler immediately twirled around, taking in the books, books, and more books, and a purple baby dragon sitting in a corner reading a comic book. But before she could think of something to say, Spike delivered a message.

“Twilight, Princess Celestia is in the throne room waiting for you.”

The alicorn’s ears and tail sagged. “Thanks, Spike,” she said, and teleported away.

“She’s not in some kind of trouble, is she?” Fowler asked, perhaps a bit worried she was somehow responsible.

Meg looked at Spike, who merely shrugged. “Only in her own mind, I suspect,” she said. “Where’s Rainbow Dash?”

Spike had gone back to reading the comic book. Without looking up, he said, “I think she’s rounding up the other girls.”

Why do they all need to come along? It wasn’t as if they could do anything around that mirror. It suddenly hit her: neither can I. She might not even be able to fly up there. At least I have the option of resuming my human form.

Fowler had been wandering around the library. “Wasn’t this destroyed?”

“We’re inside Twilight’s new castle,” Steve said. “This room only looks like the Golden Oak Library.”

On hearing his voice, Fowler spun around to stare at the unicorn stallion. It had apparently slipped her mind that Steve-the-human had not been in the room. To her credit, she put two and two together rapidly. “Steve?”

The pony nodded. “There’s a persistent spell in effect to trigger our transformation whenever we cross over in either direction.”

“But Meg was…” She waved a hand, dismissing the thought. “Never mind. Of course exceptions can be made.”

Fowler walked over to the central table and set down the Geiger counter, then remembered why she had it and turned it on. They patiently waited for a click. It eventually came, around a dozen seconds later. She turned it off, not bothering to wait for a second click. “Kinda anticlimactic, really.”

Meg was by the closed door to the hallway. “I think you’ll find this less anticlimactic,” she said as she opened it. “Follow me.”

Meg led her to that room with a view of Ponyville. To her mild relief, the door to the small balcony next to it was closed. Upon reaching the room, she opened the door and went inside, heading over to the window. Outside, Ponyville basked in the noontime sun, not a cloud in the sky.

Fowler took it all in, mouth ajar. “It’s like a fantasy come true…”

Tell me about it. It was only two weeks ago that she and Steve first crossed over to this world, a month since discovering that ponies were real. So much has happened since then.

Is this part of my destiny, to be a tour guide for humans?

On the grasslands on this side of the river bordering the town, a concert was taking place. Hundreds of ponies of all colors were resting on equally colorful blankets, facing a temporary stage. There was but a single performer, currently. The mare was too far away to make out her cutie mark, or the instrument she was holding with her forehooves as she sat on her haunches, but her colors were unmistakable.

“Is that Lyra?” Fowler asked, awed at the sight of the famous background pony.

Meg was thinking the same thing. “Probably,” she said noncommittally, as she remembered accidentally meeting her on their first trip into Ponyville. She wished she could be in that audience, listening to her music, but not today.

“I don’t suppose we can go out there?” The fellow pegasister was scanning the audience, looking for other familiar ponies. Some were certainly there, but they were too far away and close together to pick out.

Meg shook her head. “Sorry, but they don’t know humans exist, and the princesses are content to keep it that way for now.”

“Not even Lyra?”

“Not even Lyra—at least that’s what Twilight says.”

Whatever music was playing outside, none of it penetrated the window. Maybe the amplification was directional, or perhaps it just wasn’t loud enough to be heard this far away.

Fowler got down on her knees and faced Meg. “What did you mean when you said one should not become a pony on a whim?”

Meg wasn’t sure how to answer that. What type of answer was she seeking? She had to tell herself, the last few weeks notwithstanding, that Fowler was not a villain dedicated to bringing them down, but simply someone doing her job—and, as it so happens, a brony. Was she considering being ponified herself? Or did she simply want to know what it was like?

The best answer, Meg decided, was a brutally honest answer. “I have a cutie mark, a mark of my destiny,” she said, looking directly into her eyes.

“You do, don’t you.” Her gaze fell to her side. “What does it mean?”

Just then, Steve poked his head through the door. “Meg?” he interrupted. “Celestia requests your presence.”

“That, amongst other things,” she said somewhat cryptically as she extended her wings. She wasn’t really ready to have this conversation with the agents. “Best not to keep Her Highness waiting; I’m sure you understand.” The pegasus flew out the door, flying over her husband.

It didn’t take long to reach the throne room by wing, but long enough to give her time to wonder what had been going on in there between Twilight and her mentor. Maybe it wasn’t any of her business, but after her own therapy session with the newest princess, she wished she could talk to Celestia privately about Twilight. Regardless, for better or worse, she couldn’t see any way to make an appointment without Twilight knowing about it—if the diarch would even grant it.

Meg came to a hover before the closed doors of the throne room. There was no obvious way to open them. She was about to knock when the massive doors opened for her, engulfed by the glow of liquid sunshine.

Once open, she flew inside, and the doors closed behind her. Celestia was inside the circle of thrones, while Twilight was seated on her throne. The lavender alicorn seemed okay, so whatever it was that she had feared did not come to pass.

“You wanted to see me?” Meg asked, as she hovered in front of the princesses.

Celestia gave one of her trademarked serene smiles. “I want to thank you for your invaluable assistance.”

Meg’s orchid coat did a reasonable job of hiding her blush from the praise. She may not have been one of her subjects, but that didn’t seem to matter—never mind that she was acting as much in her own self-interest as Twilight’s.

The diarch continued, getting down to business. “Do you see any potential problems with this plan?”

Meg assumed Twilight had brought her up to speed. “If they come through with the helicopter, I don’t think there will be any real problems. They’re not going to double-cross you or anything. First of all, they are at your complete mercy here in Equestria; secondly, they want your assistance in studying how magic can benefit them; and finally—” she shrugged “—maybe it’s naive of me, but they simply wouldn’t do something like that, at least not without a very good reason.

“So the real question is, how likely is that helicopter? I don’t know. It depends a lot, I’d imagine, on the reaction of Holmes’ superiors to his report. It wouldn’t hurt to have a plan B, perhaps find a way to make a hot air balloon work. Modify one so it doesn’t rely on magic for its operation. That’s certainly possible; we have hot air balloons too.”

That got Twilight thinking. “There are non-magical sources of heat, of course, but propulsion would be a problem. Pegasi could tow it, but they’d have to be so far away that the weight of the rope would be prohibitive.”

There was an obvious technological solution to that. “We could use fishing line. It’s made from an artificial fiber that’s extremely lightweight and unbelievably strong. Inexpensive too.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide. “Do you know its precise properties? How hard is it to get?”

Meg was starting to think that Plan B was beginning to look more attractive than Plan A. “I don’t know, but I can find out. And it’s real easy to get. Just need to drive down to the nearest sporting goods store.”

Celestia remained focused on the bigger picture. “If they are able to provide direct assistance, it may be wise to let them—even if we don’t really need it. It would help lay the foundations for our future relationship.”

That dragged Twilight back to reality. “You’re right, of course.”

“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t work on a contingency plan,” Celestia said, smiling. “The Zephyr will be here soon, but there’s time, I think, for one last question: What benefits do they see from our magic?”

The only thing Meg had to go on was the first time the agents brought a radioactive sample with them to their apartment. At one point, they mentioned the possibilities, good and bad, of having a means of suppressing radioactivity. And there were boxes with radioactive material decals on them in that trailer.

“They never told us, directly, but I’ve good reason to believe it has to do with radioactivity, the fact that certain atoms spontaneously turn into other types of atoms, releasing dangerous forms of energy in the process.”

“I never could understand how such substances even exist in your realm,” Twilight said, “given their unstable nature in the absence of magic.”

“There are natural processes that create them, but that isn’t the problem.” Meg wasn’t sure how much to say. She didn’t really want to talk about atomic bombs—not that they’d pose any threat to Equestria, as even a thermonuclear bomb required a small fission explosion to initiate fusion.

But even that simple fact was surprising to the ponies. “Really?” asked Twilight. “How?”

“That’s not relevant right now,” she said, brushing off the query. “The problem is that there are power generation technologies that create large amounts of the stuff as a waste product, stuff that’s real nasty to deal with under the best of conditions. And then there’s the occasional accident…” Not to mention deliberate, hostile actions, which she left unmentioned.

“I see,” the diarch said as she thoughtfully digested that.

From behind the castle came odd sounds. “That must be the Zephyr. I instructed the captain to come in low and behind this castle, to minimally disturb the concert out front. I won’t delay your departure by overstaying my welcome.”

Celestia gave an ever so subtle bow to her fellow princess, who returned the gesture, and teleported away.

Meg looked questioningly at Twilight. “So… is there a backdoor to this castle?”

The alicorn broke out in a smile, hopped off her throne, and went behind it. “Yep, over there,” she said, pointing at the wall behind the thrones. “It’s not meant to be seen, but it is there.”

With a lavender glow, the concealed door opened, revealing a large grassy plain and beyond that orchards and farmland. Right behind the castle was something resting on the ground that looked like a dirigible, painted a light gray, and on its side in golden colors was the Solar Crest and a name: E.R.S. Zephyr.

The two mares exited the castle, the door closing behind them as they walked towards the airship.