The two adventurers bounced down the not-so-shallow incline and dropped out of sight. Twilight watched the orange glow from their lantern bounce farther and farther into the darkness, stopping somewhere down below. She waited as long as she dared before following them in, albeit at a more controlled pace. It got dark quick—even with the ceiling hatch left open, the light from their lantern was brighter than the meager reflected skylight. Soon even the purple luminescence from her horn outshone the skylight.

The stone out of which she’d hewn the tunnel was damp and mildewy, and she had to concentrate on putting one hoof in front of the other. Nothing compared to animating a wild jaguar, but she found herself slipping more often than she’d like. After twenty or so meters the tunnel leveled out. Twilight slipped into a convenient hole that hadn’t been there a moment before, and listened.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack—Daring Do and Rose Gambit—were groaning, understandably, but it didn’t sound like they’d suffered much more than bruises and aches. Soon they were arguing with each other. No lasting or serious injuries—not that Twilight had expected any.

But aside from hearing them . . . Currently she was projecting a single, straight corridor, intending to dig it out around them as they explored while giving herself time to design the important rooms and chambers. In order to do so, she needed to know when they were moving, but that meant staying very close, especially in some of the more confined spaces. Many of Daring’s adventures took place in such confined spaces: tunnels, shipping crates, and cages; while Rose was used to crawling around through caves. Twilight couldn’t just open up the space and give herself room. This had to be done right!

Ideas came forth, some useful—Hidden side passages—and others not—Become incorporeal. Movement was easy, then, with hidden rooms and passages, shadows and silencing charms, and distractions. While she wasn’t sure what sort of distractions wouldn’t ruin the illusion, something would make itself known; until then, she needed to lay out the temple.

Absently she pulled from her saddlebags a quill, some ink, and parchment. What would Daring and Rose expect? Traps. Large halls. Tombs and a dungeon. Twisting corridors, making a maze of sorts. What wouldn’t they expect? Her magic lit the page just enough to see, and she started jotting down notes. Easy and predictable stuff first, strange stuff later; and the final confrontation required something grand. Daring wouldn’t be getting out of this one as easily as had before. Twilight laughed her best quiet evil laugh.

She heard noises and peeked around the corner. The adventurers were on the move. She needed to keep ahead of them, and hurried down a side-tunnel that excavated itself in front of her.

---

Rose shoved the surprisingly heavy Pegasus off of her and sucked in a gasping breath. She was on her back, looking up at the lantern-lit ceiling. Warm yellow light flickered uncertainly across the stone, illuminating a wet, stained rock. There was flat ground beneath her, so they were at the bottom of the chute leading down from the surface.

“Ugh. Land sakes!” she groaned, then winced at the suddenness of her voice. Aside from it and the crackling lantern fire, the only sounds came from her and Daring. The air was still and dry. Rose rolled onto her chest, then slowly stood on shaky hooves. Behind them was that same chute, and ahead of them . . .

A tunnel, hewn out of the bedrock and smoothed immaculately, stretched off into the darkness beyond the reach of their lantern. They were underground, and for all that she could stand comfortably, it might as well have been a tomb.

Beside her, Daring chuckled, a weak laugh that quickly turned into a rough cough and a groan. “That’s three. Thanks for cushioning my landing.”

“Bite me,” Rose said. She found it hard ignore how thick the silence felt. Now, suddenly, there was no breeze stirring the air, no waves crashing below them; there were no birds or animals chattering in the distance. The loudest sounds were groans as Daring lifted herself to her hooves.

Rose took a deep breath. “Echo!” she called, loudly, but instead of a sharp echo all she heard was a long, low reverberation. “Hey, Daring? Ain’t caves supposed to have echoes?”

Daring down the tunnel, then back at her. “Yeah, but this isn’t a cave.” At Rose’s questioning look, she explained, “Sound bounces to make echoes, right? Normal caves have rough surfaces—stalactites and stalagmites, high ceilings—whatever. But there’s nothing here to bounce the sound back at us. The sound just scatters off the tunnel walls. By the time it’s made its way back to us, it’s just muffled into background noise.”

“Are . . . are we under the sinkhole?”

“I don’t think so. We didn’t go down all that far.” Daring shrugged her shoulders loose. “Just feels like it.”

“But this is the temple, right? Ah mean, we’re in the right place?”

“Oh, obviously.” Daring pointed back up the tunnel, towards the entrance. “You were right. The crystal was totally a key to let us in. We’re on the right path.” She laughed. “Of course, it would’ve been nice to just open a door, rather than toss us down a hole, but what are you gonna do?”

Rose wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be relieved or not. “Good. Ah wouldn’t wanna be stuck in the—in the wrong temple, ya know?” Rose muttered, backing up against the wall. There wasn’t much room for two ponies to stand together. It would be easy to get stuck side-by-side. She felt a little light-headed. “Do ya . . . d’ya reckon there’s enough air down here?” she asked.

Daring frowned. “You know, I’ve never thought about that. It’s never been a problem before.” She shrugged, and set her saddlebags on the ground to pull items out, muttering as she counted the contents.

Rose turned away from the entrance and looked ahead, down the tunnel. She was pretty sure it was level, even if it looked like it was sloping downwards—just an illusion, obviously, since she couldn’t see a horizon to get her bearings. The lantern light didn’t travel far enough to make out an end or door or turning; instead an inky blackness seemed to suck up the tunnel.

She looked up. Daring had said they hadn’t fallen that far, but the entrance was all the way at the bottom of a sinkhole, and they were under a very low ceiling. How much rock was sitting above them? The weight of all that rock above her felt crushingly close. And the air did seem rather stale—no, Daring had said it wasn’t a problem. Or had she just brushed it off? That seemed reckless.

She pressed a hoof to her chest. Her heart was definitely beating faster. Her breathing was shallow, too. The far end of the tunnel seemed to tilt downwards, even though she was sure she’d decided it was flat. She stumbled back, trying to keep her balance as the floor pitched down and away, and landed on her rump.

“Rose?” Daring asked from somewhere down below. “You okay?”

Rose nodded stiffly, and in a very calm voice reported that she was just great, and that Daring ought to mind her own business. She looked up from the not-sinking depths of the tunnel and traced a route upwards, trying to imagine that the open sky was only a meter or two above her, until she reached the top of her vision.

Applejack realized, cross-eyed, that she wasn’t wearing her hat.

Her hoof jerked out from behind her and prodded her scalp. Definitely not wearing a hat. Where was it? When had it fallen off? She whirled around. That first slippery slope looked empty, but then she couldn’t see very far anyways. It certainly hadn’t gone further down the hallway. It had to be up there.

“Rose?”

Applejack ignored her and tried to climb the modest incline, but the floor was slick and she slipped and landed on her gut. She grunted, spread her legs wide to get more grip, and crawled up on her stomach. It worked for a few meters before she slipped and slid back to the bottom of the chute. “No!” she protested, reaching up towards the tiny pin-prick of light at the top of the chute.

“Rose!”

If she’d left her hat outside—if somepony had taken it—

“Applejack,” Dash said, tapping her on the shoulder.

Applejack whirled around. In Dash’s hoof was Applejack’s dirty, sweat-stained, tattered hat, held out for her to grab. She carefully reached for it and, in a motion as practiced as waking up, slid it atop her head. The pressure around her forehead was reassuring and familiar, and she let out a huge breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Uh, thanks,” she muttered, adjusting the fit.

“You okay?” Dash asked with a touch of concern.

She was, now. So long as she looked at Dash, the floor ahead wouldn’t pitch forward, and there was plenty of room for the two of them. “Just not used to bein’ underground,” Applejack said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” Dash said, resting her hoof on Applejack’s withers. “The door hasn’t closed yet, so it probably won’t. If it gets too tight, or if it looks like we can’t go any further, we’ll turn around. Got it?”

“Door hasn’t closed,” Applejack repeated, looking back and double-checking the little dot of light way out and up in the distance. “Yeah. Ah mean, of course.” She forced a smile. “We just turn ’round and leave. No problem. Ah’ve done this plenty of times before.”

“Uh huh.” Dash smirked. Her hoof snaked around until she was holding Applejack in a lazy half-hug. “And, you know, if you do get scared, you can hold my hoof. I won’t mind.”

Oh, Dash.

Rose shrugged herself free of Daring’s grip and said, “Real smooth. Ah’ll just hold yer hoof, like this—” she reached for a hoof “—and look into yer eyes with a smile, like this—” she closed her eyelids, partly “—and say, ‘Daring Do, you are such an ass.’”

Daring barked out a laugh and yanked her hoof back. “Probably not wise to insult the only other pony down here.”

Rose looked back at the tiny patch of light behind them. Even standing still it seemed to pull away from her. She shook her head. “Might not be the only other pony down here. Even without the map, it’s possible Cairo’s already found his way here. That obelisk ain’t exactly subtle.”

“We’d better get going, then,” Daring said, then waved Rose ahead. “You should probably take point.”

“Why?” Rose looked into the darkness. Faced with the prospect of actually venturing deeper in, the tunnel seemed tighter than it had before—surely it had to end somewhere. “Ya scared?”

“No, but if I’m honest, in ancient ruins like this I’m usually tied up, or stuck, or in a fight. I can spot the obvious traps, and if I already know about them I’m okay, but otherwise?” She laughed. “Let’s say I really shouldn’t have both my wings attached.”

“Here Ah thought Ah was the lucky one,” Rose said, before grabbing the lantern by the handle with her jaw.

“That’s the plan!” Daring chuckled, moving behind her and pushing her forward.

“Hey!” Rose grunted around the handle.

---

The first few steps felt heavier than they should’ve, but once Daring was moving she forgot she was even walking. The tunnel shot off into the distance, straight and level like the path of an arrow. The ceiling, walls, and floor were carved so cleanly that Daring couldn’t really get a sense of motion save for small clumps of dust passing them by. Behind them, when Daring cared to look, the faintly lit entrance was separated from their island of lantern-lit tunnel by an ocean of deep black shadow, leaving only her intuition and memory insisting the two were even connected at all.

The light from Rose’s lantern bounced and danced across the tiles as they walked. Their pace was slow and frustratingly uneventful: Daring had to watch the lit floor ahead of Rose, and Rose couldn’t talk without setting down the lantern, and neither she nor Daring wanted to stop.

Then Rose gasped and skidded to a stop, and Daring, preoccupied with trying to find some identifying marks on the floor, walked right into her rump. She squawked and fell back, landing on hers.

“Damnit! A little warning . . . Oh.”

Rose set the lantern on the floor and stepped to the side, revealing a large stone double door, flanked on either side by thick columns. She glared at Daring and explained, “Ah didn’t have no warning. It appeared right in front of me. About time, too.” She looked past Daring, back down the hall. “Ah was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of magic going on, leading us in circles.”

Daring stepped back and stared at the door. Unlike the tunnel’s smooth, featureless floor and walls, the stone doors were ornately carved with fine detail. An image of the sun casting strong rays of light upon the ground stretched from the top to the bottom. Daring hadn’t noticed the ceiling rising during the tunnel, focused as she was on the floor, but the door was twice as tall as a normal floor.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“It’s just a door,” Rose noted. “We went through another one earlier.”

“You don’t get it. The tunnel entrance was just rock. Until it opened there was no hint that there even was something behind it. But this—” she reached up to the door and touched it, felt the sharp relief and thin layer of dust on its surface “—is proof that there was culture here. There’s something on the other side.”

“What?” Rose asked.

“A room full of monsters?” Daring suggested with a smile. “Or maybe a dead tomb full of skeletons.” She shrugged her gear to the ground and pressed her weight against it. She could feel its weight and the age in its hinges, could tell it would drag along the floor. “It’s probably just an empty room. You ready?”

“Go ahead,” Rose said, holding the lantern high.

Daring pressed her shoulder into one of the doors and heaved. The door screeched open then promptly jammed. Daring peered through the narrow gap.

“It’s dark. I don’t hear anything.”

“Let me help,” Rose offered.

With the two of them leaning into the door, they managed to push it open wide enough to place the lantern on the other side and squeeze through.

“Whoa.”

They were in a large, straight, dark room. Dust hung motionless in the light from their lantern, glowing orange and stirred only by their breathing. The lantern light barely reached the far walls, but unlike with the hallway it wasn’t due to distance: the air seemed to suck the light itself from the room, leaving only an off-black haze in its place, dim enough that Daring couldn’t get a sense of depth or distance.

The ceiling was higher than the tunnel’s, and up above was a high balcony that wrapped around the room, supported by thin pillars, though some sections had collapsed, leaving large gaps. The floor was made of the same large boulders as the walls of the tunnel, but these were considerably more cracked, and in some places the floor had been chipped away. A large stone pillar had fallen inwards, reaching almost across the floor to the other side, and large stone tiles were ripped up around it.

Rose grabbed the lantern and walked out from under the balcony, towards the middle of the room. As the lantern moved it shot disconcerting shadows behind the stone pillars around the walls and covered the otherwise still picture with motion. The dust seemed to sparkle in the lantern light and as their breathing stirred up the air for perhaps the first time in centuries the glowing dust looked like flaming embers rising off a large fire.

Whenever the lantern moved, the room came alive with dancing shadows and floating dust that froze when Rose set the lantern on the ground.

At the far end of the room stood two stone statues, peering out of the darkness and guarding either corner of the room. They were tall Pegasus stallions, each covered in armor and holding a spear, wings unfurled in what Daring recognized as a defensive stance. One had been knocked over long ago and the other was missing a leg and part of its right wing, likely the source of the large pile of rubble at its base.

Rose’s voice cut through the silence like a thunderclap. “Daring, look,” she said, pointing to the left. On the wall closest to them was a brazier, mercifully holding a torch inside.

The torch itself wasn’t much more than a thick, sturdy stick: no pitch or cloth to light. They made do, though: in one of Daring’s stolen bags there was an old bandana they could light, and a little bit of the lantern’s oil would keep it burning for a while.

The torch ignited in a flare of orange and yellow, blanketing Daring in warmth. Daring held the torch high, banishing some of the shadows from the lantern. The fluttering, crackling sounds from the torch were familiar and reassuring.

“That’s better,” she sighed. Simply having her own light lifted a weight off of her wings, and with a free hoof to hold the torch—no lantern handle in the mouth for her!—she could talk and move at the same time. She flapped upwards and peeked over the edge of the balconies.

“There’s a way out up here,” she called down. Just one, on the far side of the room from where they’d entered. She flew over and poked her head through. “It heads into another tunnel.”

“That’s good, because there sure ain’t anyway to go down here,” Rose said.

Daring settled beside her. Even together, their light couldn’t quite reveal the whole room. The columns and railings cast long, thick shadows on the walls behind them, even hiding the furthest parts of the ceiling.

“So weird,” Rose continued. “Unless it’s only meant for Pegasi, it’s a dead end. And if not, then there should be a door down here.”

“Maybe there was a ladder before.” It still didn’t feel right. “We gotta get you up there. If we’re gonna keep going, that’s the only way out.” She grinned at Rose. “Do you think you're light enough for me to carry you?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Ah’ll climb, thank you very much,” she said, pointing first to a section of the balcony that had collapsed into a workable ramp, then around to the door on the far side. There were a couple collapsed sections she’d need to jump, but otherwise it wasn’t a dead end—not yet.

“Hold this,” Rose instructed, pushing the lantern towards Daring. Rose approached the pile of carved rock, and when she stood on the first boulder it seemed stable enough, but she paused short of putting her whole body’s weight on it. “Whoa, nelly. Daring, bring that light over.”

“Too dark?” Daring asked.

“No—well, yeah, actually. From here Ah can’t see the lantern when it’s sitting in the middle there.”

“Whad do you mean? I can see you just fine. There’s light reaching you,” she reasoned.

“Come see for yerself.”

Daring set the lantern and the torch on the floor, and slowly walked backwards. Their lit view shrank quicker than was natural; the farther from the lights she flew, the thicker the darkness got, until the only light was an orange smudge on an inky black surface. It felt colder, too, and Daring felt her mane bristle.

“Ah don’t like it,” Rose announced, and Daring heard her tapping the rubble beneath her hooves. “Ah could see this rock from the middle, but Ah can’t see the middle from here. That’s weird, right? Sight works both ways.”

Daring nodded. “That’s seriously messed up. You could easily get lost in here trying to find your source of light.” She snorted. “Can you imagine? You drop your torch and it rolls away, and you feel around in the total dark, knowing there has to be a lit torch only a few meters away—”

“Can ya fly the lantern and the torch up with me?” Rose asked.

“What’s the matter?” Daring asked, hoping to disguise her own discomfort. “Scared of the dark?” She looked at Rose, another barely visible smudge.

“Of course not,” Rose snapped. “But Ah don’t wanna fall because Ah’m climbin’ loose rocks that Ah can’t see. Otherwise Ah can get around in the dark just fine.”

Daring bit back a reply—she really wanted that torch back in her hoof. “Fine. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” Rose said quietly, as Daring Do went for the lights. Climbing the rubble looked hard enough without being blind. Every step seemed to dislodge a small rockslide, and Rose spent more time balancing than moving. Daring had to stay close and offered a hoof several times, even though Rose insisted she didn’t need any help.

Rose reached the top of the rubble. The exposed floor of the balcony went up to her eyes, and she had to rear up to get her forelegs over the edge. Daring set down the torch and watched Rose struggle to get her body weight up and over without a stable floor on which to balance. After a few moments Daring offered her hoof again, and Rose took it with a grunt. She made a final leap and managed to get her body over the edge before the rubble shifted and collapsed even lower.

The balcony was deep enough for Rose and Daring to stand side-by-side facing the courtyard with a little room to spare, and from their position they had a great vantage over the whole chamber.

Rose spoke first. “So, that’s the entrance to the temple,” she pointed, “and that’s the way onwards, which means anypony visiting would have to come through here, make their way up here, then go ahead.”

“Or anypony invading,” Daring suggested. “It’s a shooting gallery. Any invaders try to force their way in here, ponies up here could defend the entrance from above. Unicorns, or Pegasus archers.”

“But why is it so dark?”

“Maybe there was more light, normally. This is pretty old.”

“It still doesn’t feel right,” Rose said, eyeing the tunnel ahead. “Think it’s just in this room?”

“One way to find out.”

With enough light Rose had no trouble crossing the missing sections in the balcony, and the two left the room and its unnatural darkness behind.

---

Rose led Daring down a stairway that wound back and forth like a snake and dug lower and lower into the earth before levelling out, looking into a large chamber. It was long but not very wide, with carved stone pillars supporting the high ceiling. The smell of burnt oil filled the room: bright golden torches lit the otherwise grey room, and it was warmer in here than in the previous rooms. From the far end, a large stone statue guarded the room.

They stopped at the entrance.

“Uh, Daring, how often have you found an ancient, abandoned underground maze still lit and warm?”

Daring stood and stared. “Dunno, but after all the other weird stuff goin’ on . . . I’m not that surprised.” She looked towards the end of the room. “No door? Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?”

“Might be one behind that statue,” Rose suggested, “or maybe around some corner we can’t see.”

She lifted a hoof to enter the room, and was just about to take that first step when Daring gasped, reached around her neck, and yanked her back. They tumbled onto the stairs.

“What the—What was that for?!” Rose cried, elbowing Daring in the gut and shoving her out of the way.

Daring pointed at the floor ahead. “Do you see?”

“Pardon?”

“The floor!”

Rose looked at the empty, tiled floor, and then back at Daring. “Ah said, Pardon?”

Daring groaned and stood at the edge of the landing. The rough rock that made up the stairs gave way abruptly to a perfectly ordered grid of square tiles. Daring pointed at the face of the closest one; on it was a strange symbol carved in relief. “The floor is . . . trapped!” She waved her hooves in the air with a flourish.

Rose cocked an eyebrow. “Trapped.”

“Watch!” Daring looked for a suitable rock, and kicked it across. It bounced along the stone tiles for a moment before rolling to a stop on one of them.

Nothing happened.

“Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t heavy enough?” Daring wondered, and started nosing through her saddlebag for something heavier.

Rose’s voice was lined with suspicion. “You’ve been breathin’ too much of the dust, haven’t ya?”

“Every time I’ve gone through a temple like this, those tiles mean I get shot at, or fall through into a bottomless pit—”

“How could you fall into a pit? Yer a Pegasus!”

“Alright, Miss Expert, what do you think it is?”

“Some sort of art?” Rose looked around. “Maybe it looks like something from the right angle, like a shadow. Not every room in here is gonna try and kill ya.”

“Just let me check for a moment. Unless you’d rather try it out yourself.”

Rose sighed. “Fill yer boots.”

Daring flew down the narrow hall, inspecting the walls on either side. She muttered to herself, and occasionally paused to tap at the wall. Once she reached the end she turned around and shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t trapped?” she suggested, her voice carrying down the hall. “I don’t trust it. Maybe you should just stay there.”

“Stop bein’ paranoid. If this place wanted to kill us, it wouldn’t be with drawings on the ground. If anything, that statue would magically come to life and charge us.”

“But . . . traps!”

Rose rolled her eyes and stepped forward. Her hoof hesitated. She groaned. Now she was being paranoid. With a determined face she stepped onto the first tile.

Nothing happened.

With a small sigh of relief, she walked down the hall, stepping on tiles at random. Daring was grumbling by the time Rose made it to the end. “You know, you said you’d be willing to use your imagination, Rose.”

“Sorry, Daring, I just don’t like imaginin’ myself gettin’ pincushioned.” She pointed through the statue at the wall. “Is there a doorway back there?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Daring said. “At least the outline of one. Trouble is, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to push the statue out of the way, and if we knock it over it’ll just get stuck.”

“Is there a lever or somethin’ that slides the statue over?” Rose asked.

“Doesn’t look like it’s supposed to slide over. I don’t see any scratch marks or rails.”

“Up, then? Something’ll make it move.” She looked up at the stallion. It was a Unicorn, fully grown and twice as tall as Rose, made of the same rough stone as the previous statues. Unlike the guards in the entrance hall, this looked more like a sorcerer: in one hoof it carried a long, simple staff, and it had ornate jewelry carved around its neck. Its face was featureless and flat, while his horn was blunt and short, though that might’ve been wear.

“Whaddya think?” Rose asked.

“I recognize it. Him. Magnet the Mighty, I think. He was a ruler in these lands back when this temple would’ve been built.” Daring pointed to his cutie mark, a rock or stone roughly engraved on his haunch. “That’s supposed to be a lodestone. An early magnet.”

Rose stared at Daring. “How in Equestria do you know that?”

Daring shrugged. “Research. I remember knowing more about him, but it’s all in my notebook.” She grumbled. “Stupid no-good thieving Unicorn.” She looked at the statue and added, “No offense.”

Rose looked behind the statue. A large rectangle nearly as tall as the statue was set into the wall. There was a gap between the wall and the stones themselves. Dropping her saddlebags, she reared up against the statue and reached a hoof in between it and the wall, twisting to get some leverage against the door, but it wouldn’t give. When she pulled back she’d collected a slight covering of dust down her shoulder and foreleg.

“No good,” Rose said. “We’re gonna hafta move it outta the way. Heh, too bad this guy ain’t rearin’ up. We could topple him forward.”

“Check the statue,” Daring suggested. “Maybe some part of him is a button or a lever or something.” She poked his cutie mark, without success.

Rose focused on the statue and tried to picture where such a button or lever might be. Daring leapt up onto the statue’s back and started prodding his mane and facial features; Rose knelt low and inspected his hooves and the floor around them. Daring tapped several times down his spine and withers. Rose poked, prodded, and knocked at the staff. Nothing.

“Ready to give up?” she asked.

Daring jumped back and tried to pretend she hadn’t been caught peeking between his legs. “I was just looking,” she insisted.

“Uh huh. It ain’t no magical or mechanical wonder. Just plain stone. Help me push it.”

“That’s it? Just push it aside and keep going?” Daring slid her saddlebags to the floor and pushed them out of the way beside Rose’s.

Rose looked at her, an eyebrow cocked. “An honest adventurer don’t spend her time imaginin’ danger. She just needs to be ready for when it comes callin’.”

“Honest adventurer?” Daring rolled her eyes. “I’m not ‘imaginin’ danger’. I just expected it to be a little more, you know . . . challenging? Exciting?”

“Watch whatcha say, Daring Do,” Rose said, turning to the statue and leaning into it. Unlike bucking a tree trunk or a jungle cat’s muzzle, shoving was easier from the shoulders. Above, Daring rested her weight between the statue’s hip and the wall.

“Exciting’s overrated.”

---

Above, separated from Twilight by an ornately carved tile floor that certainly wasn’t trapped and also certainly wasn’t broken, the two adventurers counted down from three, stopping partway to argue about whether to push on or after ‘one.’ Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith floated in her grasp, open to a particular passage about midway through the novel.

The two adventurers cried, “Heave!”

She listened to them grunt and strain, felt their weight shift the projected surfaces ever so slightly, and turned her head to catch the breeze from Daring’s wings. If she focused, she didn’t even need to see them. She could certainly hear them complain that her statue shouldn’t be so damned heavy.

She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s solid stone, you guys,” she said to the empty room.

She turned her attention to the book. Daring Do had indeed heard of Magnet the Mighty, although not in this particular story. The forgotten Metalsmith had worked powerful magnetic energies into his weapons and defenses, and while Twilight had an active imagination, it didn’t hurt to draw inspiration from proven sources.

“Well, book? Shall I let ’em have it?” she asked. If she was going to talk to something, it might as well be the book.

A page flicked idly in the wash from Daring’s wings.

“Good enough!” With her horn uncomfortably warm from the strain of continuous use, she reared and slammed her hooves onto the stone. Purple lines of magic traced the tiling and disappeared into the walls, hurrying to join and complete the newest versions of her manipulative spells. “Now, Daring Do, it’s up to you. How much do you know about Magnet the Mighty, hmm? Have you really done any research?”

---

The adventurers pushed and strained and shoved and groaned, and got nowhere.

Daring sat on the statue’s rump, leaning against its tail, and huffed. “You know, I half expected his tail to be a lever, or something.” She knocked it gently, but it was attached quite solidly to his dock.

From below, Rose panted, “Stop yappin’ and start pushin’!”

“Relax, boss,” Daring said. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. ” Rose stepped back. “Ah got the feelin’ there’s something back at that wall he’s pointin’ at,” she said absently, walking back towards the entrance.

Daring hovered above her saddlebags and rifled through them. Her canteen was suspiciously light. No way had she drunk that much. Her gaze shifted towards Rose’s bags.

“You find anything?” she called out casually.

“Not yet. Help me look!”

Daring checked over her shoulder, then quickly swapped canteens. Rose’s was still nice and heavy. She flapped up and rested on Magnet the Mighty and took a swig. The water was nice and cool down her throat, great in the warm room, and the metal casing was cool against her hoof. She replaced the cap and went to return her new canteen to her saddlebags; as the canteen passed Magnet’s haunch it shuddered.

“What.” She held the canteen over his cutie mark. She could definitely feel a pull. “No way! Rose!” she yelled. “His cutie mark! It’s magnetic!”

“Hay!” Rose called out. “You holdin’ mah water? Don’t you dare drink any!”

“Check it out!” She held the canteen by its strap and let it swing into contact with Magnet the Mighty’s cutie mark—

A great bang clapped against her head, and a flash sent stars swimming across the ceiling. Daring blinked hard and found she was on her back on the ground.

“Oof! What happened?” she asked, rubbing her head.

“Daring! Move!” Rose yelled.

Daring looked down between her legs just in time to see the statue swing its staff in a clean vertical arc towards her. She rolled to the side, hearing the staff rail against the stone floor with a crack that rattled her skull. She got her hooves underneath her and shot off, skidding to a stop near the entrance beside Rose.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Rose hollered.

“I didn’t do anything! He just . . . turned on!”

Magnet the Mighty faced them and shook himself loose, sending a cloud of dust floating towards the ground.

“He’s gonna charge us, ain’t he?” Rose asked, backing up towards the entrance. “That’s why the room’s so narrow! He’s gonna charge us!”

“Calm down,” Daring panted, keeping her gaze on the living statue. He was shifting his weight, as if he were testing his new body. Daring continued, “Just like a bigger, harder cat. Dodge, get behind it, and knock its lights out.”

“Knock its—Sweet Celestia, it’s a statue, not a cat! It shouldn’t have no lights to knock out!”

Daring chanced a look at Rose. In the clearing, she’d looked like wildfire trying to burst out of a pony. Now she looked small and scared. Daring gulped and, ignoring the frantic protests in her head, turned to place herself in between Rose and the statue.

“Relax,” she said quietly, moving her head to block Rose’s view. Still no sounds of hooves racing down the stone track. “We’re still here. If he were gonna beat us outright, he’d’ve already done it. That means there’s totally a way past him.”

Rose stopped trying to look past her. Daring kept going, hopeful that something would give Rose the kick she needed. “It’s just magic. Unicorns pull this crap all the time. Nothing scary about it.”

“Yeah, got it.” Rose took a deep breath, reached forward with a hoof, and shoved Daring to the side. “Ah still gotta see what he does. Ah ain’t gettin’ run over just because you won’t shut yer trap.”

Daring grinned. “Much better!” She took to the air and hovered right above Rose. “Just, uh, don’t look behind you.”

“Why not?” Rose asked carefully.

“The door shut behind us. We’re now officially locked in.”

Rose didn’t say anything for a few moments. On the other end of the track the statue fixed them with the business end of his stick.

“’Course we are.”

Author's Notes:

Author’s notes are available here. Next time, either The Riddles of the Magnet Sphinx or Shattered Bedrock. Leave your guesses in the comments section!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr