Chapter Ten

"They're what?" I asked, trying to clear my head and make sure that I'd heard correctly.

"Rarity, Applejack, and Blues," said Twilight. "And... I think they're looking to court Golden Harvest, too, but I'd bet bits that they're going to wait for a bit. Applejack says she's dropping hints to remind the other mare that there might be, you know, an option later on."

I stared, until Twilight became visibly annoyed and snapped "What?"

"Is... that common, for ponies?" I asked.

Twilight grinned, and flicked a good-natured ear toward me. "More common than not. You humans are like griffons- monogamy and semi-political marriages."

I shrugged. "Jill was dating two nice people the year before I met her, but yeah, you're mostly right."

I turned back to my computer screen. Some of Twilight's ceaseless magic-babble had given me a few ideas, not the least because humans had a better general understanding of the natural world than ponies. Magic excepted. Bringing up source material on geomagnetic fields had excited Twilight to no end, so I was using a scam pass to bring up physics essays from the local university's database.

Twilight adjusted herself in the next chair over, making herself comfortable in the human-built chair before asking, "What about you?"

I gave a little snort. "Not dating, won't be dating anytime soon, dead set on females and unlikely to find more than one -if that- who could put up with me. Your turn."

The pony quirked her brows up, but didn't look up from her papers when she replied. "Golly, Tamara, don't be so optimistic. You're making me feel bad about how disappointed you'll end up being." She grinned. "No stallions at all, then?"

"Not in a hundred years," I replied. "You know us silly humans- most of us are ridiculously monosexual. Why, how many suitors does the pony princess have? Or did you just build yourself a nice little harem?"

"No!" said the alicorn, finally looking up from her work with something like panic in her eyes. "Faust, no!" Eventually she calmed and gave a self-deprecating grin. "I might poke fun at Rarity for reading all her 'saddle rippers', but I think I picked up too much of my own from the fantastical romance section."

I didn't let my eyes move over to the door of the library's reading room. Instead, I just whispered, "Play along so we can mess with Dash." I lowered my head so that Twilight's mane would obscure my face and winked. Realization crossed her expression, and she winked back.

"Of course I will, Twilight," I enunciated clearly and loudly. "I mean, I've never touched a pony like that, but I can't imagine any mare better than you to be my first."

"The first of many, I hope," said Twilight, affecting a soft, simpering sigh. "Oh the things we'll do to each other. Of course, for science, we'll have to... expand our test group, if you know what I mean."

Her lecherous grin made my ribs hurt, I was trying to hold my laughter so hard. I waggled my eyebrows and asked, "Can I show you the dance of my people? As soon as we get the rest of this test group together, I picture something more like a conga line. Ponies have invented sexual lubricant, haven't they?"

"Have we ever!"

I pretended to be surprised to see Rainbow. "Hey, Dash! How are you?"

The pegasus, wings out and straining, gurgled.

"Tell me, just out of curiosity," I said. "Do you know how to dance?"

The panic in the mare's eyes was priceless. Watching her try twice to get out of the room before finally scrabbling sideways to fit was the straw that broke the camel's back before both Twilight and I cracked up.

The librarians asked us to leave less than five minutes later.

Night was falling, but the march didn't stop. The shadow of the mountain range behind me stretched out over the land bridge, so that only the bare rock several miles out glimmered red with the fading sun. Still, even in the encroaching dark, not a single pony stopped their trek. If anybody stepped onto the bridge, they would continue to the end, come hell or high water. The last corner of the Paradise Estate was host to a massive shanty town, growing by the day as it served as a gateway to the west, crystallizing around the ponies that had come up from Amaranth.

The bridge itself varied from a wide, stony outcropping to something only a half mile across at points. Sea salt kept most of it bare of life, and the endless line of ponies stripped it further for fuel or food.

"Mama! Look, ponies!" said Solar, pointing excitedly.

"Yep, ponies," I agreed. "You clever foal, what would you expect? We live in magic pony land, after all."

"Magic pony land!" Solar cheered, hopping up and down. The kid was growing fast- his wings whirred away in excitement, but they couldn't lift him anymore, since his mass had caught up.

Thank the heavens- chasing him was hard enough before I began putting on weight again.

"That's right," I said, turning about. "Come along, kiddo! We're off to meet our new friends."

And I meant that- for some reason, the rest of Amaranth had gotten leery of dealing with me too closely, after dragging an exile to his slow death down through the middle of their camp ground. Most of my social contact was nocturnal, now.

Solar and I disappeared into the low hills beyond Amaranth, pushing through dead brush and sneaking under the illusory cloaks I cast periodically. Though I doubted anybody would dare follow me, I took Midnight's request for secrecy seriously.

"Herd mother," said a low, female voice.

I rolled my eyes as I pushed Solar into the clearing. "A herd of two and a half, Thicket. How are you, this evening?"

The deep green thestral bowed, as ridiculously formal as ever. Not a complete stick in the mud, since she had continued visiting the group without raising a fuss with the others above, but still overly exact. "Well," she said.

"Hey there, Tham'ra, Solar," said Midnight. "Ready to start?"

I looked around at the circle of five thestrals. All young, all curious, and all viewing this as more of an adventure than anything else.

"Sure. I've got presents, first," I announced, dropping my saddlebag to the ground with some relief. "It took me a while, but I managed to dig through my library and come up with these." With a smooth rasp of unbuckling cloth, I pulled out three books. Two bound, one a bundle of papers that had been a transcribing effort of mine from... a while ago. I wasn't sure when- I think it was from I was still traveling with Daisy.

"Come up with what?" asked Dawn, Midnight's younger sister.

I grinned. "Well, turns out there is a little bit of thestral lore already out there. I've already got these transcribed, so they're yours to keep. Just remember to keep them on the down-low, right?"

"We know the drill," said Midnight, having been told what 'on the down-low' meant a while back.

"What else did you get us?" asked Satin eagerly. The oldest, she still managed to be the least mature of the lot.

I rolled my eyes and through over the tiny packet of candied raisins. She let out the echo-high squeaks that meant a happy thestral, the kind of 'eee!' that only preteen girls should have been capable of, and pounced on them.

"What are we to do with those?" asked Thicket, prodding at the volumes.

"You read them," I said, and noticed as she sort of deflated. Something inside me slumped. "You... can't read?"

"Of course we can," said Midnight, shifting. "Some of us. Uh, by 'us' I mean..."

"Mother Artemia can," said Thicket. "And... Romu. I think. He says he can."

"I know some," said Midnight. He leaned over one of the books, then eased back. "Apparently I don't. Is that how everypony else writes?"

A suspicion grew in my mind, and I pointed to a clear patch of dirt. "Grab a stick, write me a sentence."

He did so, stick in mouth like many ponies did for finer work. Hoof-writing required practice, and the flexibility and grip only developed near puberty. Most ponies never cared to switch over. Solar carried crayons in his mouth or, using his wing tips, splashed paint around with gleeful abandon.

Midnight slowly, painstakingly wrote out three words. I squinted at the lines.

"That's... old earth pony script. Really old. Arkayan, I think. I don't think this thing even has adjectives."

"Whatatives?" asked Dawn, half the fruit candies in her mouth at once as she leaned in with puffy cheeks.

"Like, a 'red' berry, or a 'big' dog. Or a 'big, red' dog. Midnight, how would you write 'blue feather'?" I asked.

He gnawed sharply on his lip. "As 'a feather as of sky', or, 'as day sky', if you want to be specific."

A script almost as archaic as their language. I refused to say any language that worked was inferior, but I doubted there was another pony in Amaranth that this group could actually talk to, other than Solar. He had a limited vocabulary, but being my child, he knew that vocabulary at least three different ways over.

"These are in modern pegasus," I said. "I could teach you, easy as anything. You could learn just about anything, that way, or talk to anybody."

"More of those outsiders, I assume," came a voice from above.

On reflex, I shuffled Solar under my barrel as I looked up. All four of my little group had been wincing, but not running- they recognized the voice.

A large, grey-streaked mare stood upon a bare stone pillar above us, glaring with yellow eyes that gave a sharp glint in the dark. Beyond her, dozens of other shapes fluttered in the dark. The thestral tribe wasn't large- this had to be all of them.

A paper bag fell from her hooves -a familiar paper bag- and Satin flinched. Somebody, I figured, hadn't gotten rid of her part of the evidence.

"Hello, flock elder," I said. "I am Tham'ra, the-"

"Witch, traveler, etcetera," said the mare, cutting me off. "And meddler. You've been watched, more often than you know. Wandered the Blackorn Forest, cut the throat of the dragon Barbelethero in his long slumber, and so on."

I tried, as best I could, to recall those times and others. Had I been watched? Had the shadows seemed a bit too dark?

"Well." I forced an unsteady grin. "You have a bit of an advantage over me there."

"Indeed I do," said Artemia, as she couldn't be anybody else. The flock drew closer, half-seen.

"Mama? Scared?" asked a tiny voice.

"Hush, Solar," I said, petting him blindly. "I'll guess either your group has been following me, for some reason, or there are yet other flocks out there. Tell me, how's the hunting on the mainland?" She glared. "Because it won't get better. And I'll bet you moved to the Lonely Sentry, not because you were curious, but because some of yours are banking on the fact that they might have to follow the herds below. Are the other flocks following your lead?"

"Enough," said Artemia.

"No, it's not," I said. "You're all going to starve if you don't go, and if you go, you'll be flying through a warzone in short order. Unless you find a safe route around Pegasopolis."

"Around what?" asked Midnight.

"Colt, be silent!" barked Artemia, apparently long too tired of her ponies talking to me at all.

I studied her face. "You don't know. None of your scouts can fly that far and stay out of both the light and the notice of the other tribes. You won't talk... probably can't talk to any of the ponies below, except me, because you've gotten so out of touch."

"Witch, we have ways of dealing with your kind-"

"No!" I shouted, cutting her off, this time. "You won't, and you can't in any sense of the word. And if you've watched me for any length of time, you'd know that. I've not gotten any less dangerous, Artemia. And you and yours are only getting more desperate. This is the only olive branch you'll ever get. Censuring these brave, curious, clever four and... attempting to silence me will just signal the last, terminal decline of the thestral people."

"Your threats-"

Again, I cut her off. "What threat? Kill me, and I'm a harmless corpse. But you'll be cutting your own throat with the same blow, nag."

Silence stretched on for a long time.

"I... am not comfortable with this," the mare said, wearing a cloak almost identical to my own, only larger and heavier still. Apparently, thestrals did, occasionally, travel the ground below- they just kept as far away from ponies as possible.

"It's not so terrible," I said, but then had to stop. "Solar? On your hooves- mommy can't carry you and your sister," I told him.

He rolled off of me, landed, and pressed the crown of his head up against my belly. "No!"

Sibling rivalry before there was a sibling. Heaven help me.

"Witch, you said we would discuss the political climate in..."

"Terra Equestriana, they're calling it," I helpfully supplied. "The earth pony chancellor sent a message runner back through just last week who got a bit too talkative. My sources" -Nilly- "have passed a bit more on to me, since then. We're going to my, oof, home. We'll have some privacy there, and I have a... a couple of rough maps. They aren't much, but they'll help with the... the thestral route."

"Witch. Are you feeling well?" asked Artemia. She looked about helplessly.

"Just... really feeling it, today," I admitted, slouching a bit in the middle. "Probably been all those late night walks. I'd have asked Midnight to bring them closer, but I wanted to be careful. Can't be too careful. Not since Winter..."

"What of winter?"

"Who, not a what," I replied, almost giggling. Really, pony names... "My... stallion. Did Midnight not inform you?"

"I was told your paramour died in a bar brawl," admitted the mare.

I grit my teeth, but forced myself back onto my hooves and moving forward. "He died for being... atypical. He was picking up a tea ingredient -he never got drunk- and was found an acceptable target for being a pegacorn." I favored Artemia with a wry smile. "I've always had a soft heart for the strange."

"I'll forgo feeling insulted," said the elder. "I am... sorry to hear of your loss. That was some time ago, now... I think I remember one of my ponies mentioning it?"

"Four and a half, five months," I answered. Since he lay there, wounded and dying, and apologized for bleeding on my fur.

I shook my head, which I found turn remarkably clearer for another bout of nausea that decided that now would be the perfect time.

"Ugh. Let's just... it's right ahead," I pointed.

I'd gone and had another small, warm room built right up against the parked cart. It gave Solar and I a little more room, and had a proper cooking stove in it. The rough floor had been layered with all the rugs I'd bought in Amaranth the previous, and it was comfortable enough to fall asleep in whenever the two of us didn't make it back to the cot, or fell asleep reading together.

"Get the door, dear," I said, and Solar scampered ahead of us, jumping to grip the latch from his teeth and proceed to hang there like a novelty knocker. "Thank you," I told him, pushing it open. He swung along with it and giggled through his teeth.

"Is he... quite well?" asked Artemia.

"Quite, yes. Why do you ask?" But my attempts at keeping a straight face failed as a cramping pain shook my frame. "Sweet festering Shatner, child, what is wrong with you?"

"Mama? Wha'd I do?" asked Solar.

"Not you, your sis..." I broke off, since having Solar scold my belly wasn't as funny when I was already in pain. "Nothing, dear. I'm fine," I said, then just sort of rolled over onto my side as a sharp, cramping pain bent my spine.

"How far along are you?" asked Artemia.

I forced my eyes open wide enough to glare at her. "What? No. No! It's a month too soon! This is just... false labor. My sister had those- they happen. They yerargh-uh!"

Admittedly, I had left my sentence trailing a bit, there.

"I'm a grandmother four times over, don't tell me what I know about foalbirth!" said Artemia. "I don't care how unnaturally old you are, you're still well on your way," she informed me, voice muffled.

I frowned, opened my eyes again and, "Stop looking under my tail!"

"You're dilating."

"No I'm..." My eyes crossed. "I... may be."

"What's wrong?" asked Solar.

I smiled for him, reached into my cloak, and offered him a sweet. "Nothing, dear. Have a snack."

He devoured it on instinct, smiled, and curled up into an unconscious ball. Bleeding heart figs weren't the only useful substance I'd come across on my travels, after all.

I levitated him onto the bed inside the cart on instinct, shortly before completely losing the ability to focus on anything at all.

"I find myself hating you, witch, for that I never had such a thing myself as a young mother," Artemia told me.

"I don't use it often," I protested, gritting my teeth. "It looks like today will... nn... be a poor day for work. Tomorrow, maybe?" I asked, panting.

The thestral had thrown off her cloak and began pulling off mine. "You expect me to leave? You're a moron, witch. I served to aid my last grandchild into the world just last moon- you'll not find better hooves for this work among you day ponies."

"Artemia," I gurgled, "you don't even like me."

"And yet, amazingly, I've nothing against foals. We'll split a fresh pitcher of blood later and have ourselves a true friendship," the mare growled.

It would have been a great comfort if I could have said she was joking. "That... is a joke, right?" Her expression told me all I needed to know. "Oh. I owe Midnight... ah... an apology. Offered me... gah, fuck, cup of fox's blood."

"Fox?" asked Artemia. "I had not realized his full respect for you."

'Oh, goody,' I thought, but resigned myself to a sanguine chaser, later on. Thestrals were strange.

"Now, you know this part, yes?" asked the elder. She began rooting through our small pile of dishes. "Hot water. Linens..."

And so it went. My second birth was shorter, only two hours long compared to the better part of the day that had been last time, but still more painful.

"Hurts, it hurts, it hurts," I announced, chewing on my own hooves.

"That would be the horn," said Artemia. "The end is near, just keep on at it, come now." She removed her hoof from my side, where she'd been rhythmically rubbing in time with my breathing for the last hour.

I screamed, feraly, into the crook of my foreleg, and heard a little chirruping echo. A fresh towel fell in front of my eyes, and I buried my head in it roughly to wipe away the tears and sweat that had mixed into a stinging film.

"I... I, wait. Horn?" I asked, still trying to catch up.

"Aye, a unicorn filly. Congratulations, you have a small firestarter on your hooves. Good luck with that."

A tiny, damp, blue bundle was thrust at my head. Her mane and tail were a cobalt hue, and her coat was a deep, blueish indigo.

"You have a name for her?" asked Artemia while I looked at what was unmistakably Winter's filly, colors and all.

"Winter told me right before he passed," I said, feeling horribly heavy. The implications settled over me like a thick blanket, letting me know that the future would be horrible, and the little filly's birth just confirmed it. I wanted to cry.

The tiny foal curled up tighter, and I hurried to clean and warm her. She would be worth it.

I'd once referred to her as a happy accident. Now I realized just how wrong I'd been- there had been no accident. I'd gone back in time, yes, and interacted all-too-briefly with the true present before that. There could be no accidents in that kind of circumstance. I was working my way through a massive loop, lacking only the knowledge of how it closed.

The implications...

"Her name is Luna," I said, brushing out her mane.

It wasn't every day you learned, without the shadow of a doubt, that you were doomed to fail as a mother.

"Wake up, kiddo," I said, gently shaking my firstborn. Somu Sap, or candies coated in the stuff, was easy to shake off, even for foals. The little white foal stirred and yawned, blinking up at me.

"Morning?"

"Not quite," I answered. "Your baby sister came today."

Solar blinked, and looked to my much-reduced pudge.

"She's in the outroom," I said, and beckoned him over.

Artemia had disappeared, but demanded I have her back in a week's time to talk about her flock's business. I imagine even that grace period was due only to the fact that Luna had been born so small.

We stepped down from the carriage's main body and the tiny, pale foal slowly, tentatively approached the slowly breathing bundle lying in a nest of pillows.

Solar leaned in and sniffed at the cobalt tuft and stared. He looked back over his shoulder at me.

"She's sleeping," I was informed.

"You don't say," I said, and the foal went back to watching the newborn in silence.

I stayed back and watched Solar, and brought up in my own mind the suspicion I'd had since Winter's last request, some months ago. It had seemed too neat- the greatest remaining mystery in my mind had been the appearance of Equestria's diarchs. These were the most important decades surrounding the country's founding. The younger sister, Luna, and the older... the eldest...

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. What were the odds? I didn't think it was impossible that some odd curse might by laid upon my firstborn, but beyond that, the answer was obvious.

What did I know of how pony foals behaved, typically? Roles were mostly reversed, compared to humans. A 'modern woman' was an 'old-fashioned' pony.

Who better, to raise a healthy and happy transgender individual in a medieval society than somebody who'd been born outside that society? Who themselves had been...

Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe some incredibly unlikely circumstances had simply culminated in me assuming the most convoluted explanation possible?

Still.

"Hey, kiddo?" I whispered. My firstborn's ears perked up and... he... turned away from Luna and trotted over.

"Yes, mama?"

I gathered... him... up, and tucked my chin over a head of strawberry-blond mane. "I just want you to know I love you no matter what. You and your sister are the most important things in my world. Do you remember what I told you about, about how if you ever think I'm wrong, you can tell me, and how even foals can be right, even when parents aren't?"

Solar nodded against my neck.

"Good. Good, just... remember that. So you know it's okay to tell me if..."

'Fuck,' I thought. 'When the fuck did I know? When does anybody know? The kid's four, but...'

How old had I been?

"Kiddo? When you grow up, do you want... no, wait." I was screwing this up. I knew I was, but I was honestly trying. I sort of wish my own parents had tried, really. "Back in the village, who did you like to play with, more? The colts or the fillies?" Winter had taken Solar out whenever he could, because that tended to be what stallions did, in magical pony land. My time with the little one had been later in the day, reading stories and singing songs.

Solar pulled his head back and quirked it to the side. "Fillies."

"Oh. Okay," I said. "Why do you think that is?"

Tiny, rose eyes glanced back at Luna. "It... felt more nice."

"That's okay," I told him. "Solar, do you like being a colt?" Incomprehension. "How would you like to be a filly? If... if I said you were my little girl, instead of my little boy. You would still be nifty, and smart, and I would always, always love you so much. If you're really a girl, or really a boy, you can tell me. You can be Luna's big brother, or Luna's big sister. That's... they're both okay."

Solar frowned, the world's most thoughtful toddler.

"Because when I was a little... foal," I continued. "Everybody thought I was a boy, until I said they were wrong."

Solar stared at me, shocked. "Why?"

"Because I was scared to tell them," I admitted. "But remember when the story, that when you're in a safe place, it's okay to be brave, even if you're scared? You and Luna are both very safe here."

"Oh." Solar pushed back into my chest again. "Can I be pretty like you?"

Years ago, I had stared into this world's future, seeing it through a pool in a sacred place whose builders had been forgotten by time. I had seen my friends long left behind. Beyond them, I had seen two regal mares, around whom the whole world had turned.

"Even prettier," I promised. "So, are you a big, beautiful girl? Or a big, handsome boy?"

"'M'a girl," said the foal, talking shyly into my coat. I rubbed her back.

"Want a girl name? It's a special one. It's fit for a princess." A nod. "How about 'Celestia'?" A quirky little Spock-brow, which she'd copied from me. I smiled. "But we can call you 'Tia'."

Celestia smiled like she hadn't since Winter left us.

"Love you, mama."

"Love you, Tia. Would you like to learn a song to sing for Luna?"

As it turned out, I had been right about the thestrals- Artemia's flock hadn't been the only one, and they hadn't been sitting on their haunches during the Paradise Estate's new, final winter.

I sat with Midnight in a little space beyond the grove that had been chosen for the next meeting. The flock mother had insisted that, since I was 'taking my sweet time', things may as well include the newly arrived elders as well.

"So... you really aren't..." The thestral paused, staring at my eldest. "How?"

"Magic," said Celestia, giving the enigmatic shrug I'd taught her. When in doubt, I'd said to 'blame magic' or say 'ask my mother'. And if she changed her mind, having a mad witch as a mother would be excuse enough to declare herself a damned cactus, should she prefer it.

'Please don't declare you're a cactus,' I mused. 'It's hard enough for some to tick the right damned box on medical forms.'

"But, you said you're a filly," said Midnight. "Now. And she said you were-"

"Magic," said Celestia, giggling, because she was still too young to hold a straight face.

The thestral looked to me and I repeated Tia's enigmatic shrug. "Magic. It's the darndest thing. Get over here, little girl. You are covered in burrs."

"No'm not!" my eldest protested, scratching at her ear like a cat, probably to try to dislodge the burr there.

I ignored her and started combing out her coat, using my teeth when it came to her mane and tail. Another weird pony thing... that I didn't know I was doing until after I'd started doing it the first time.

At that point, I was nearly certain that ponies were, in fact, part cat. Watching Tia chase tinsel when she was back in diapers only confirmed it, really.

I shifted Luna back a little further down my neck in her ridiculously heavy sling -unicorns needed to stay warm, and it hadn't been warm for a couple of years, now- and put Tia back on her four hooves.

"Come on, then, let's go see what the big ponies want," I said, and Tia nodded officiously, high-stepping out in front of us and leading the procession.

"Frikking adorable," said Midnight, slipping back into the thestral patois. He had an ear for languages, which had pleased me to no end- I figured I ought to pick up students more often.

We entered the grove, and I bowed low while Tia began trying to stare the crowd down. She'd gotten so much more... confident, it seemed.

"Flock mothers," I said. There were seven now, and Artemia anticipated two more to come in the following weeks. The mountain above had never seen so many inhabitants.

"Witch," said the main mare herself. "You are... in a better state for this, now?"

I curled my neck around and nuzzled the massive bundle of cloth resting between my wing joints. "That I am," I told her. "Midnight here has my maps."

Artemia motioned him forward, and the stallion began arranging the large, rolled parchment out on the flat stone at the grove's center. He set out smaller stones to keep them unfurled, and I got right down to business.

"This, here, is the heart of the newly settled area," I said, pointing to the narrow triangle of clear space where the land bridge met the other end of the sea. "To the west is the frost shelf, which seems unrelated to the great freeze. Probably glaciers, sustained by the winds of the far north. It makes for a pretty bleak barrier. Here," I pointed, "is a thick forest, which by all reports has been... less scouted than barricaded. There are a number of dangers there that the three tribes have never come across. Massive things that seem none too interested in sharing space."

Manticores, I didn't say. An entire pride of them, maybe, which misrepresented the rest of Equestria but made the approaching settlers think twice.

"And in this narrow triangle, there are the three tribes. Commander Hurricane's Pegasopolis to the northern end, and Unicornia and the Earth Villa to the lower corners. The Earth Villa is to the southeast, closest to the coast, and should present the safest air route without either Hurricane's squadrons or Platinum's magical artillery."

I sighed. "Mind you, each of these settlements is only a two days' journey from one another. It's obviously unsustainable, not just politically, but in terms of space. Tens of thousands have yet to make the journey, and..." I blinked, looked up at the watching faces, and said, "...and you likely don't care about all that. No big deal- you have a route. Now you just need to make the trip over the bridge."

"Night would be best. Of course," said one mare, Citrona Umbra, I believed.

"For more reasons than you know," I agreed. "The travel is being made in waves- every day, groups set across from sun up to sun down, but there are wide gaps left by those empty times of the night. Really, just maintaining pace, and space, within these gaps should leave you unmolested by anybody."

"It all seems rather simple, for all of the build-up you insisted on beforehand," said yet another flock mother.

This time, it was Artemia who responded, snorting. "We are shadows and bogiemares to the lot of them. If we are to keep our solitude and safety, then yes, this preparation was entirely necessary."

'And go straight back to becoming ever more of a non-entity,' I thought, and I knew it for the unkind thought it was. But it was true. I resisted the urge to look to Midnight- he and his little group would end up being more important than they could possibly imagine. I thought of Luna, and wondered if, with two foals now bouncing around, I might need a nanny. Somebody who would, just by being there, leave the future diarchs familiar with this strange little tribe.

I fought the urge to shudder- really, out of all the people who shouldn't be performing social engineering, here I was...

"All settled, then," said another mare, Shadi Sern. Her group had only arrived the night before. "The day ponies are coming in greater numbers, the, ah, 'fourth wave', as you said. Now and before they arrive should prove the most fortuitous time."

"If it were done, it would be best done quickly," agreed Artemia. "When will you be ready to leave?"

It took me a moment, longer than I'd like to admit, to realize that she was addressing me.

"I?" I asked. "What of..." And there I stopped myself, and forced myself to think before talking.

Thestral wings only behaved mostly the same as pegasi wings, but the nervous twitches of the assembled party were there if I only looked. These ponies didn't know me, didn't trust me, and I was just another 'day-dweller' to them, albeit one who knew far too much for their peace of mind. I'd mentioned all these dangers, the cold and blight had boxed them in from the other direction, and here I was offering salvation if they just... did as I said, but not 'as I did'.

'Really,' I asked myself, trying another tract of logic, 'Did you think yourself safe to wait it out here? The living winds are coming, and these herds around you will seem as delicious a treat to them as the new settlements will. You are not safe. You have never been safe. Tia and Luna are not safe, but at least they'll be with you.'

I blinked. "I'll need one of your bigger lads to pull my cart," I admitted. "My library's outgrown me a bit, and I haven't hired on an assistant since Amaranth moved." Sheepishly, I added, "And I doubt I'll get any takers with my new infamy."

"I saw that," said Umbra. "We were already on our way here, and... my goodness, you really are a witch, aren't you?"

"I would ask you not to talk about that," I said, the familiar, horrible calm settling over me. "My children are with me, elder."

In Umbra's defense, she looked at least somewhat sheepish.

"Yes, well. I'm sure we can provide... somepony."

"Satin can do it. She is much stronger than she looks," said Artemia.

The calm went away, and I was able to genuinely smile. Or, at least, try to. "Excellent. Somebody I know I can pay with sugared fruit." I carefully did not look in Midnight's direction, as I could hear his sides shaking. "Tomorrow night will be fine. I'll disassemble our little addition tomorrow and we'll sleep in. The rest of you can join us by dawn, but you realize we'll have to push on through the first day to avoid being overtaken."

"We have some large tents we can put up," said Shadi. "My herd uses them in the desert when we can not manage the whole trip between adequate perches in a single night. Day travel will be hard, but cloaks are easy to manufacture, and we should manage for a few days."

"Four or five," I noted, drawing my hoof along the irregular line between the two landmasses. "We have a plan?"

"We have a plan."