It was now the middle of the afternoon, although nothing in the sky betrayed it. After a – more or less faked – nap and a very light lunch, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom had gathered again in the clubhouse, joined by Scootaloo. All were pacing restlessly, profoundly distraught.

“I can’t believe we did that!” said Sweetie Belle wagging her head.

“And it’s all your fault! You lured us into going to Sugar Cube Corner,” Apple Bloom accused, pointing one of her hooves at Scootaloo. “And then you decided we could eat what we’d find there.”

“Hey Apple Bloom! It’s too easy to duck your responsibility. You could just decline, quit anytime, or warn me we’d gone too far. What did you do? Tell me, I’m curious. Matter of fact, you did nothing, except pouncing on those pastries! So chill down!” protested Scootaloo. “Girls, we’re all in the same boat now.”

“Can we fix it somehow?” asked a fidgeting Sweetie Belle.

“And how?” wondered Scootaloo. “Maybe by staving in Sugar Cube Corner and saying to the Cakes: ‘Hey! It was us who creeped in the bakery this morning and ate all your cupcakes. Well… we just came to say we’re sorry, but they were so darn good we just couldn’t stop. Well, goodbye for now!’ Do you really think it’ll work?”

“And why not?” replied Apple Bloom. “My sister always says: ‘Stupidity confessed brings half forgiveness’.”

“Maybe your sister would wipe the slate clean,” replied Scootaloo, turning to face Apple Bloom, “but I’m sure the Cakes won’t! Now, if you have a plan B, be my guest.”

But Apple Bloom just lowered her head in embarrassment, scuffing the floor with her right fore-hoof.

“What shall we do then? We cannot just shut ourselves away here waiting for the whole shebang to calm down!” squealed Sweetie Belle.

“Quit whining!” hammered Scootaloo. “Nothing’s gonna happen. Nobody’s seen us. Besides, the Cakes churn out so many different delicacies every day that this will just go unnoticed. It’s like sipping water from a barrel with a straw. Piddling. Maybe they’ll lose some bits, but they can get them back quickly.”

“How?”

“By rising their prices for a couple of days,” explained Scootaloo. “Ever-so-slightly that nobody will notice.”

“But’s that bad!”

“Oh come on! Is it your sister’s influence that makes you such a… prig?”

“Who’s a prig?!” exclaimed a voice in a indignant tone. Startled, the three fillies suddenly spun around; Applejack and Rarity were standing on the threshold of the cabin, and their countenances were rather stern.

“Errr…” Scootaloo bumbled. “It was a prank, of course! I never meant—”

“Sweetie Belle!” cut Rarity in, not waiting for the end of Scootaloo’s excuse. “Come with me. I think we may have something to talk over.”

“You too, Apple Bloom,” said Applejack. “Granny, Big Mac and I would be very happy to be enlightened on some of your latest deeds.”

Sweetie Belle’s and Apple Bloom’s ears dropped. Stooping her head, they began shuffling slowly and silently towards the door. Scootaloo remained behind, somewhat uncomfortable. Then abruptly she stepped forward and shouted: “Don’t blame them! It’s all my fault. I assume full responsibility for whatever happened.”

Applejack and Rarity scrutinized her. “In a case like this you all share a part of responsibility,” declared Applejack harshly. “You no more than the others. You just happen not to have a big sister around. Though I think maybe we should drop a dime to Rainbow Dash…”

“Nooo!” yelled Scootaloo suddenly panicked. “Don’t do that! She’d never forgive me!”

“We’ll see. Meanwhile, you can stay here and mull over.” Both mares whirled and began trotting off, accompanied by their little sister.

“I shall wait right here. Good lu—” replied Scootaloo, but her voice trailed away as Rarity slammed the door shut.

⁂

“So,” began Applejack. “Tell us what you’ve being doing this morning. And this time we want the truth…” All the Apple family had gathered outside the barn; three stools and a table—more a plank raised over two trestles—had been hastily set up; Applejack, Big Mac’ and Granny Smith were sitting behind the table, and Apple Bloom was standing on the other side, looking glumly at the ground. The whole scene look like a rustic tribunal—which it was, somehow, except that Apple Bloom had no lawyer and the jury was definitely hostile.

“Well…” said Apple Bloom. “That speech was so tiresome and tedious that Scootaloo decided we’d just break away and do something else. So I mentioned the bits you promised me to buy a pastry at Sugar Cube Corner and then she said that we could go there, have the pastry and pay later with those bits. Except that… we just couldn’t stop with one pastry and… when we realized we had swallowed about everything, we panicked, ran away and just came out with flimsy excuses…” She broke off and began to sob. “I am… so… so sorry!” she stammered. “We never meant to do anything bad.”

“Yet you did,” replied Applejack.

“Eeeyup!” confirmed Big Mac.

“Ok. Let’s be fair,” carried Applejack on. “It wasn’t that bad, as if you’d destroyed something… which by the way drives me back to where we were yesterday. Now that you’ve confessed one of your mischiefs, haven’t you another one to bring up?”

“Errr…” hesitated Apple Bloom. “Yes, we did a bit of mess down there in the cellar, didn’t we? I mean… somepony threw me an apple, I thought it was Scootaloo so I responded in kind, but it was not her but Sweetie Belle, so Scootaloo retaliated and then… everything went haywire. And at the end one apple struck the stack and it fell. And… I guess we ran away too… just because we were so frazzled—”

“But you knew,” interrupted Granny Smith, “that somebody would have to do the work of putting all the apples back in the crates, didn’t you?”

“I was hoping it would go unnoticed until today. I really planned to fix it today, even all by myself. Honest!”

“What worries me the most,” explained Applejack, “is that you deliberately lied to me. Why did you lie?”

“Well…” hesitated Apple Bloom. “I guess I was just so ashamed I couldn’t even admit to myself I had been that stupid—all I wanted was to squat in a corner and hide away. And when you implied you discovered it I was afraid you’d tell me off or place the onus on me. Oh please, please, please, I’ll do whatever you want to redeem me.”

“Very well, Apple Bloom,” said Applejack. “Your plea has been heard. You can go back to the clubhouse, while we discuss your case. But, until tonight, I seriously warn you to keep a low profile. No further deviation will be tolerated.”

Gazing once more to the ground, her ears drooping, Apple Bloom shuffled away.

⁂

Apple Bloom was back in the clubhouse where Scootaloo was waiting for her.

“’Twas one of the worst moments of my life. There were all looking at me as if I was a criminal,” confessed Apple Bloom, downbeat. “And I don’t even know what they will decide.”

“Much a do for a few cakes…” commented Scootaloo.

“You were lucky to esc…” began Apple Bloom, but she broke off. Scootaloo wasn’t lucky at all. She would probably have traded every upbraid in the world for a true family. “…never mind,” she concluded. “What have you been doing here all along? Where is Sweetie Belle?”

“Not returned yet,” answered Scootaloo. “I suppose Rarity will have pinned her at home. I’ve been wondering who could have given us away. Any idea?”

“I tried to make my sister spill the beans,” said Apple Bloom, “but she just answered curtly: ‘You don’t expect me to reveal that, Apple Bloom, do you?’”

“It cannot be an adult pony,” Scootaloo remarked. “They were more or less all gathered over there to listen to the speech. And we would surely have spotted him or her. Pegasi are grounded, so nopony could have watched us from the sky. Could it be…”

“Hmmm…” groaned Apple Bloom. “Do you think the same as me? Who could have felt the same as us and decided to wander away from that tedious speech except one of those two pests?”

“And moreover who else could have snitched?” Scootaloo carried on. “Besides, Filthy Rich is not the kind of father to care that much. He’d rather send Diamond Tiara away on a rampage rather than keeping a tight watch on her.”

“Admitting it is one of them, how can we know which one did it?” grumbled Apple Bloom. “They’re both scourges anyway.”

“Well, it’s simple,” explained Scootaloo. “Catch one of them, and make her speak.”

“They’d never snitch on each other! They stick just like twins! We would need magic to force them to speak,” observed Apple Bloom.

There was a hush as both fillies mused. Then all of sudden Scootaloo smirked and exclaimed: “We don’t need to rely on magic! There is still a resource we don’t have exploited…”

“Oh, come on!” squealed Apple Bloom. “Tell me.”

“I’m sure Zecora has a suitable potion,” Scootaloo said.

“Scootaloo!” protested Apple Bloom, “You can’t have forgotten what happened the last time we pinched a potion from Zecora’s pharmacy. At least I don’t. And besides Zecora’s hut has been almost destroyed, she had to take shelter in Fluttershy’s cottage.”

“Precisely,” replied Scootaloo. “We can—I mean I can sneak there. I’ll try to find what we need. Meanwhile, you just stay here, and wait. This way, if ever somebody shows up, you can always pretend you’re just nice, and squander some time playing. Okay? Let’s do this. See you tomorrow morning at school.” And without even waiting for an answer, she was gone.

⁂

The hut of Zecora was indeed run-down: the door was standing aslant on a single hinge, and most of the roof had caved in. But the rest of the Everfree forest was not in a better shape. Paradoxically, it had never been safer to travel in this area: many trees had been uprooted or destroyed, nothing could hide under the canopy anymore. The sun was bathing the scenery, and Scootaloo inferred than many monsters had probably fled the violent sunshine and receded in some darker part of the forest—if such a darker part remained.

She carefully pivoted the door on the single hinge and went through the threshold. The inside had been severely damaged. Beams had cracked and fallen, damaging the rare tribal artefacts and precious masks Zecora had brought from her native land. Shingles were strewn everywhere. The major quakes due to the clash had caused the various shelves to crash down, shuttering many vials; the ground was somewhat muddy, scattered chips of glass shimmered like fallen stars and a strange composite odor permeated the whole place. In a remote corner, one shelf, decorated with what seemed variegated boxes and vases, still stood miraculously up. Gingerly, Scootaloo picked up her way through the perilous mire to the unscathed shelf and began to scrutinize the various containers that were stored here. Strange names were written on the boxes: Vanilla abundiflora, Digitalis purpurea, Silybum marianum… when suddenly her sight was caught by a strange but appealing name…

⁂

The next day was ‘almost’ normal. Everypony had tried to resume their normal activity despite the veil of grayness that stained all the coats and the general lack of energy. The fillies were going to school. Seeing Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon ahead of her, Scootaloo galloped until she was abreast with them.

Diamond Tiara turned her head. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Our friend Scootalooser. How is the never-going-to-have-their-cutie-mark club?”

“I just noticed you don’t have cutie marks anymore, too,” retorted Scootaloo.

“But that’s only transitory,” said Silver Spoon. “We’re soon going to recover them, as well as all other ponies. Except… the blank flanks, of course.” She smirked.

“By the way,” answered Scootaloo. “I’d be interested in knowing which of you is a sleazy telltale.”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about, dear,” declared Diamond Tiara. “We are no snitches.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you are. And I warn you that she who gave us away is going to regret it. Bitterly!” said Scootaloo, returning Diamond’s smirk.

Diamond Tiara winked at Silver Spoon. “Ooooh. I see now. You mean what you did at Sugar Cube Corner? That was rude. The Cakes are so adorable. How could you? We are not sleazy; you are.”

“Just swear you didn’t pinch anything in your all life at Sugar Cube Corner!” taunted Scootaloo.

“Oh, we never swore. It is just that… we are not big oafs like you. When we do pinch something, we manage not to be seen… But you, you are just… clumsy morons!” concluded Diamond Tiara. She and Silver Spoon giggled, and they sped up, leaving Scootaloo behind.

⁂

At the mid-morning recess, the three crusaders huddled together.

“What happened to you Sweetie Belle?” inquired Apple Bloom. “You also were told off?”

“Yes,” confirmed Sweetie Belle. “I had never seen my sister so infuriated. Even worse, I think, than she would have been had we looted her own boutique. Even the cat was bristling because of her cries. I was confined in my room for the rest of the afternoon. And now, we both have to spend the next weekend helping the Cakes out at the bakery.”

“I’ll join you,” said Scootaloo. “We are a trio, ain’t we? We share both great and dull moments.” She grinned.

“So,” asked Apple Bloom, “did they tell you?”

“Of course not,” answered Scootaloo. “But that does not matter. They are both guilty if they cover for each other. I am not going to waste time sleuthing. Besides our retaliation is at hand.”

“Explain!” squealed Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo drew a small box from her saddlebag and showed it to the other two.

“What is it?” asked Apple Bloom perplexed. “Nux vomica?”

“That’s self-explanatory,” answered Scootaloo. “Nux means ‘nut’ and vomica ‘that causes to vomit’.”

“How can you be sure? We don’t speak Zebrican, not even a word!” wondered Sweetie Belle.

“Silly filly,” grumbled Scootaloo. “That’s not Zebrican but Equilatin, the old language used to design plants amongst the masters of lore. Look here.” She grabbed her saddlebag again and seized what appeared to be an old book, partly shredded and stained with mud; on the leathered cover, the title read ‘Phytotherapy essentials’. Opening it, she skimmed quickly through marred pages until she found what she wanted. “It’s written here: ‘Nux vomica’ or ‘emetic nut’—”

“Emetic? What’s that?” inquired Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo facehoofed. “It means ‘that causes to vomit’, you benighted foal!” she answered grumpily. “Can I continue? Okay. Then it is written Blablabla… Ah, there: ‘The emetic nut extract is very bitter, because it contains a powerful component…’” She broke off.

“Why do you stop?” squeaked Sweetie Belle.

“The sentence continues on the next page, but it has been sodden and it is not readable. I can just make out the beginning ‘known’, then probably ‘as’ then I can’t read it anymore. Maybe an b and a r, but I can’t be sure. The rest is just a big blue splotch, and where I can read again, it obviously mentions something else: ‘something-nine is one of the world’s most poisonous substance and must be administered in minute doses to be considered safe.”

“Are you so sure it is not relevant to whatever this nut contains?” asked Sweetie Belle somewhat uncomfortably.

“Just quit carping and ask stupid questions, would you?” snapped Scootaloo. “Of course it has nothing to do with that nut! This is emetic, not poisonous, as the name specifies.”

“Maybe Sweetie Belle is right,” ventured Apple Bloom. “Maybe we should ask?”

“And whom, please? Zecora? ‘Zecora, sorry to disturb you, I found this in your hut, could you tell me what it is used for?’” Scootaloo sighed.

“Twilight?” put Sweetie Belle forward.

“Sometimes I wish you were a little more witty. Shall I remember you that the library has been destroyed? Twilight without books is like a phonograph without records. Mute. Besides she has much urgent matters to grapple with presently.”

“Maybe we should go to someplace’s else library and try to look up ourselves?” proposed Sweetie Belle.

“ENOUGH!” shouted Scootaloo. “What are you? Wimps?”

“No, but—” protested the other two in unison. “Then it’s settled,” Scootaloo cut in. “Remember that project on ‘taste’ Cheerilee wants us to work on for next week?” asked Scootaloo.

“Indeed,” confirmed Sweetie Belle. “And so what?”

“Tastes are four: salted, sweet, acid and… bitter,” Scootaloo answered with a grin.

Silently, the three fillies exchanged impish looks before brohoofing.

⁂

“Everybody listen!” cheered Cheerilee. “Now it’s the time for the game I told you about yesterday. Somepony will be blindfolded and has to guess what elementary tastes are present in the variety of samples you’ve prepared!”

“I want to try first!” cried Silver Spoon, frantically waggling her hoof in the air. The three crusaders winked at each other.

“Who else wants to volunteer?” asked Cheerilee. She looked around but no other leg went up. “Okay,” she carried on, “Silver Spoon, come here, I’m going to blindfold you.”

While Cheerilee was busy hitching the folded napkin around the head of Silver Spoon, Sweetie Belle tiptoed next to Scootaloo. “What did you do,” she whispered to her ear.

“Mingled Zecora’s powder with a lot of honey and syrup. This way the bitterness will be mitigated and she will swallow it instead of spitting it out,” answered Scootaloo in a low voice.

“Did you try it?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t want to be sick and deprived of the spectacle we’re going to behold!” Scootaloo sniggered.

“Then how can you know she will find it sweet enough?” remarked Sweetie Belle.

“Trust me!—”

“Hallo!” exclaimed Cheerilee. “Are you ready to challenge Silver Spoon with your mysterious mixtures?”

“Yes miss Cheerilee!” responded all the class in chorus.

“Very well!” said Cheerilee. “First Snips and Snails!”

The two unicorns brought a small glass, that Silver Spoon took. She then sipped from it and spat it out also immediately with a wince. “Yuuck,” she said, “that’s salted. Too much. What is it? Brine?”

“Bravo!” congratulated Snips and Snails. They stomped their hooves on the ground to applause.

“That was easy,” laughed Cheerilee. “Next ones! Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom!”

Cautiously, Scootaloo advanced to the table where Silver Spoon was seated. She put a small earthenware pot over it, and gave Silver Spoon a scoop. The grey filly dunked it in the somewhat oozy, creamy yellow mixture and reached the scoop into her mouth. “Mmmm…” she said, as if puzzled. “Strange. It’s very sweet, but at the same time it has a distinctive bitter aftertaste.” She took another gob and chewed it, talking her time as if to fully appreciate all the organoleptic qualities. “Not bad, when you get used to it. What is it?”

“Hum,” hesitated Scootaloo embarrassed. “It is kind of honey made from flowers that grow in Zebrica. Zecora gave it to me.”

“Oh really?! Can I taste it too?” asked Cheerilee enthused. She didn’t wait for an answer and took a small drop with the spoon that she licked prudently. Her face grimaced slightly, but then she grinned again: “It’s really… uncanny. Did Zecora told you what plant this honey was made from?” she inquired. “Because it tastes as if it was some kind of regular honey mixed up with some really bitter substance.”

Scootaloo’s face crumpled. “Errr… No, she did not but… I’ll ask her and tell you tomorrow,” she answered, with a shaky voice. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were watching her with scary eyes.

“Okay girl!” Cheerilee chirped. “Whose next now?…”

⁂

The game was now over since about one hour, and Cheerilee was explaining everything about the tongue and its taste buds when a faint voice interrupted her.

“Miss Cheerilee, I feel sick…” complained Silver Spoon. “Real sick.” She hunched up on her chair, putting her hooves over her stomach. Scootaloo smiled discreetly to Apple Bloom.

“What is the matter, darling?” answered Cheerilee concerned. “I, too, feel strange.” She gazed around. “As if… the world was unusually clear. I think you’d better go outside and breathe some fresh air for a while. I’m not sure tasting all these different flavors in a row was such a good idea, after all.”

Silver Spoon lugged her chair backwards and stood up. But she had barely made a step forward that she suddenly slumped, her entire body seized by a fit of convulsion: her belly contracted violently, her legs started wriggling and twisting as if they were panicked fish caught on land, her eyes widened and her pupils suddenly dilated. Froth began to drool from her open mouth.

“Sweet Celestia!” yelled Cheerilee. “Quick! Somebody run for a doctor. Hurry!”

“On it!” replied Scootaloo and she cleared out immediately, while her teacher dashed through the room to the spot where Silver Spoon was helplessly twitching. “She must be under some kind of epileptic fit. Striking, but not really dangerous.” She turned to face the nearest filly, Diamond Tiara, who, like all the others, was so dumbfounded that she stood gaping stupidly. “Diamond!” Cheerilee ordered, “Come here, help me avoid her swallowing her tongue while I try to calm her down!”

Diamond Tiara hopped from her chair and grappled Silver Spoon’s mouth, trying to hold it wide, while Cheerilee was desperately trying to restrain the filly’s wild motions.

Minutes passed, and Cheerilee noticed with horror that the body of Silver Spoon was not subsiding. On the contrary, it was increasingly stiff, as if a powerful cramp was progressively seizing all the muscles; her spasms were now generalized and her respiration was becoming irregular, faint, wheezing…

⁂

Scootaloo and the doctor stove in the classroom, flinging the door opened. But they immediately froze. The place was eerily silent. In front of them was Cheerilee, her face expressionless, her eyes unfocused and lost. Wordlessly, she trotted past and egressed through the open door. Her hooves resounded in the quiet room like a portent. Almost reflexively, Scootaloo rushed two steps further and rounded the first pupil’s desk.

A few feet ahead of her in the aisle, next to a shocked Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon lay decumbent on the ground. No more was she squirming. In fact, her face was peaceful, her eyes closed, her body relaxed and unmoving.

At last.