Chapter Eight

"I love this! Humans come up with the most interesting party ideas," said Pinkie. "Picture parties- this one's going on the list."

"Hush up and pass me the glitter," said Jill, bent over her own poster board. "The green kind. I need something to represent the evil in my soul."

"Is that what the duck is?" I asked.

"It's a swan," Jill corrected me, then stared down at her picture. "Wow. I'm, like, really bad at birds."

"I can help," said Fluttershy, smiling around a piece of charcoal and speaking fluently through it as only ponies could do. "First, you'll want to add some length to the neck."

"Rainbow, pull back the splash tarp," I called over.

The pegasus looked back and rolled her eyes. "It's fine! This is art. You know, modern art?" She slapped her wings against her own canvas, and grinned at the feathered lines. "So worth the extra hour of preening, later. You girls think I can sell this?"

"I believe in you," said Crazy Dan. He adjusted a protractor and continued his sketch recreation of the Death Star. "And I believe I need another beer. No salt, please," he added, keeping in mind our pony opposites.

Twilight absently levitated over more of the 'rye drink', though skipped both the alcohol and small bowls of salt. I admired that- even in the midst of our art party, she was still 'on the clock'. Between working on her -surprisingly good- watercolor of her old tree library, she managed to continually adjust a little crystal and brass dial that just barely poked out of her saddlebags.

"Thank you, Princess," said Crazy Dan, saluting her.

"Not a problem," said Twilight, sending the other two bottles toward Jill and Rainbow.

"I have chips!" said Linda happily, breezing out of the kitchen. "Chips and napkins- everybody gets a napkin."

I leaned over while most everybody was making room for plates. After a few seconds, a little laughing snort bubbled out of my throat. The alicorn at my side looked up from the cavas I'd been spying on.

"What?" asked Twilight, looking hurt. "I thought the details were rather accurate..."

"It is," I assured her. "It's just... sweet, is all. It caught me off guard. You crammed all ten of us into that room."

Twilight looked back at her work sheepishly. Four humans and six ponies, drawn more 'standing awkwardly' since I didn't think Twilight was very good at drawing people in casual poses, were in her library. Four humans that couldn't visit, visiting a location that no longer existed. It hurt me right in my sentimentality.

"It's just wishful thinking," she mumbled.

"It's sweet," I said again. "Have some chips, princess."

“You're certain?” asked Winter, trying not to jostle the mugs of tea he was carrying out onto our roof. I reclined on a pile of relocated rugs and shrugged.

“I've got a feeling,” I said. “I was right about the first party, wasn't I?” I asked.

“You've been bribing street urchins to report to you- no claiming credit on that one,” he said, hoofing over my mug and settling by my side. It was adorable- he didn't have half my natural cold resistance, and he was trying to put on the moves by wrapping his wing around me. Well, I certainly wasn't going to start discouraging him.

“But I knew to bribe them in the first place, now, didn't I?” I asked, peering through the primitive telescope. My little flying friends were up there, still, so the next party hadn't made an approach. Well, I called them friends, but I hadn't actually ever met them. Nor did I know who and what they were. Still, Amaranth's mythical 'sea hawks' were the subjects of plenty of rumors. I only knew that they disappeared immediately at the approach of pegasi.

“Whatever,” said Winter. “You still haven't explained what this has to do with what you and Starswirl were talking about.”

“Elementary, my dear Winter,” I said. “A party of earth ponies runs through here in the dead of night three weeks ago. All heavily clothed, but of course Chancellor Puddinghead and his protege Smart Cookie were with them.”

“Of course,” sighed Winter, kissing my cheek. “It's all so obvious, now, isn't it?”

“Stop teasing,” I muttered, not too bothered at all. “But yes, so long as you've got a few key facts. Like Starswirl admitted, Platinum and some of her court are aiming to travel out over the Turtora land bridge. So of course, neither other tribe wants to be left behind. Tensions are rising, resources are depleting, and not one wants to let the others gain an advantage.”

“You mean the winter drought,” said the stallion. “I've seen some of the more hard-pressed earth ponies in town pressed to eating fish, even.”

“Good for them!” I said. “Fish is good for you. All mobile vegetables, is what I've been saying.”

“Right,” said Winter, having heard the sentiment before. “Though you eat more of the stuff than most pegasi I've ever met.”

I would give him that, yeah.

“Point being,” I said, “is it's not some winter drought. The unicorns have been pulling the sun in on closer paths, the pegasi have been corraling clouds away from every major settlement to let in more light. It's getting colder, and the ground is literally dying. There's hardly a farmer left above the Prickle River, which they've been able to cross so easily because it's been frozen over for the last two seasons!”

“That... no. But the drought's hit everywhere in the Paradise Estate! You're telling me it's dying?” Winter asked. He, I knew, hadn't seen much of the Estate from this side of the mountains, but he knew as well as anybody else that it had been the pony homeland since the first exodus out of Dream Valley. It would be like me hearing that the Yellowstone Caldera had gone off back home.

“Yeah,” I said, because that was as much as I could say.

“Will the mountains stop it? Are we even okay, here?” he asked, a quiet desperation seeping into his voice. His leg curled around me, drifting lower until rested over the growing curve of my belly.

“For a while, maybe,” I said. “But... not in the long run. We'll have to follow the herds. It's a big thought, I get that, but a whole other land awaits us. We'll have fun. You, me, and she,” I told him, tracing the hoof that was tracing my side.

“He,” said Winter. “I'll put five bits on it.”

“Deal,” I said. “Wait, no, I was saying something. So, the unicorns are going soon, the earth ponies are already gone, and the pegasi will do the same. All three along this route, going ahead to scout better territories. I imagine they'll send word back once they have a foothold.”

“They what?!”

I did my best not to jump -nobody is supposed to ever be able to surprise a witch, after all- but Winter flipped out enough to cover my little twitch. It helped, of course, that I vaguely recognized the voice.

“Hello, Princess Platinum,” I said, turning and waving. A group of twelve cloaked unicorns stood on the street above and behind my home. I'd call it coincidence, but I couldn't imagine any group containing Starswirl the Bearded would have passed by without at least saying 'hello'- he and I were still nerdbuddies, after all.

“Witch!”

“Hell Belle!” I called back. Winter was already up and posed over me like a bull ready to charge, the sweetheart. “Starswirl, could you hold that whoresdaughter back? I'm not in a state to fight right now, and my other options are a lot more lethal.”

“Captain Belle, stand down!” ordered one cloaked figure, his voice rough and familiar.

The tense one, with a glint of metal under all that cloth, bristled. “This bitch is wanted under multiple warrants, and I'll see her dashed at the bottom of a cliff by night's end!”

“Princess,” said a smaller figure urgently, clearly Clover, giving a gentle shake to the one to have first shouted in surprise.

“Er, Captain? Stand down,” ordered Platinum.

“But my lady!” begged the captain.

“That is an order,” said the voice, regal calm gaining ground in her tone. “I would hear her explain her earlier words.”

“It's alright, Winter. Help me up, please?” I asked. I wasn't an invalid by any means, but damned if I didn't get sore way too easily, recently. My adorable little parasite was making her presence known.

“Tham'ra, what state do you mean?” asked Starswirl. He dropped his cloak, which had literally been piled over his usual hat, and there was more than a hint of worry in his expression.

“An entirely natural one,” said Winter. “And this one's my fault, I'm afraid, mage.”

And of course, midway through helping me up, he had to lift my cloak and put my baby bump on display.

“The bitch has gotten fat. Wonderful,” said Letra Belle.

“Oh hell no,” I growled, pulling up a vapor script of something nasty to cast at a moment's notice.

Then Clover had to ruin the mood by being adorkable. She squealed, bolted forward and began rubbing my belly. This was apparently a thing that everybody took as a given when it came to pregnant mares- touching their bellies was somehow, implicitly okay. Whether or not you'd asked.

But this was Clover, and it was hard to get angry at a mare who was that delightfully oblivious.

“How many months? Oh, Lady Tham'ra, you'll be a mother!” the young mare said.

“Gods preserve me from having to deal with your offspring,” said Starswirl, but with a grin on his face. “At least Whistle may provide a decent example for the child.”

“That was hurtful and unwarranted,” I declared, before turning my attention to the princess. “Princess Platinum, it's a pleasure.”

She nodded. “Isn't it just? Now, you were just mentioning the other tribes, were you not?” she asked.

“I was,” I said. “It was inevitable, really. The tribes together number almost two hundred thousand, by Harried Counter's latest publication. That's a lot of hungry ponies, in a land that soon won't be fit to feed even one. Your escape hasn't escaped notice by the others, you must understand.”

“It is not an escape,” said Platinum in clipped tones. “I will see my race has a safe haven waiting for them. I will face the unknown, if need be.”

“Only a turn of phrase, Princess,” I said. And it was, too- I couldn't see Starswirl or his protégé having anything to do with a mare so cowardly as all that. For one, the old codger was too clever by half for blind cowardice. Strategic cowardice, maybe.

“As I was discussing with Winter, here, the tribes have all been orienting themselves on a single goal. Inevitable, really, with the blight and cold. Hunger is a powerful motivator, Princess. The earth ponies are ahead of you, and the pegasi will soon overtake you. Your remaining advantage is the time you've put into preparation- three of your celestial temples have already been dismantled, haven't they?”

That last tidbit had come from Starswirl, but so long as he kept his peace, I got another few points in my 'creepy foreknowledge' attribute.

“You presume a lot,” the princess told me, which wasn't really news.

“You're certain, Lady Witch?” asked Clover. The unicorn was still rubbing my belly, perhaps trying to teach the fetus Morse code. That seemed horrifically likely, actually...

“My love is a clever one,” said Winter, nuzzling me.

From what I could tell, the moonlight must have caught his head in just the right way to show off his less... usual attribute.

“We're listening to a half-breed?” asked the princess.

Winter stilled. Clover backed away toward her group, having been close enough to feel the tension under my skin.

Starswirl was rapping his own head with his hoof and cursing.

“Have a care, Princess. Insults don't sound any prettier from a royal mouth than a common one,” I said, keeping my voice low and measured.

“I will not be talked down to by a pegasus witch!” replied the monarch.

“Princess,” tried Clover.

“My lady?” offered Belle, seeing her chance.

“Princess Platinum, I am looking forward to my middle age,” said Starswirl. “Aside the fact that we are traveling in secret, aside the fact that we are on neutral shores, and aside the fact that he is her stallion... we are insulting a witch in her own home. I count her as a friend, and I am still not stupid enough to presume her mercy.

“Our journey is only possible because of her help some two year ago. I can't tell you what enchantments she's made ready since we've started speaking, but I can all but taste them in the air. Please, my lady, I do not wish to die tonight.”

It was really kind of him, pretending that the spell scripts I'd written were at all lethal. Or, perhaps, he thought I was willing to use lethal magic in a crowded, sleeping town. I wasn't sure how to feel about that second possibility.

“She showed us the dragon writings, my lady,” said Clover. “Remember?”

The princess seemed to forcibly calm herself, and inclined her head. Certainly not a bow, but also not a sign that she'd try and demand my head.

“A fine show of faith indeed,” she said, and I resisted the urge to let my eyes twitch. “We will not tarry long, mares and stallions. We have found ourselves in a race, it seems.”

I nodded and, out of some sense of intuition, glanced up. My little flying friends were gone!

I took a quick step toward the telescope and aimed it for the horizon, very gently sweeping it back toward us.

There, not five miles away, were dark shapes moving in formation against the frost-white clouds.

“And there are our second place racers,” I declared, making sure all ears heard me. I heard the movement of cloth, and figured that everybody else was trying to see what I had.

“The crazy one is coming closer,” Winter whispered in my ear.

Instead of asking the reasonable question, 'which crazy one?', I whispered back, “Not for long.”

“Belle,” I called, making a guess, “do watch out. My roof isn't the most steady construction."

“Captain!” bellowed Starswirl. “Perhaps you could keep your eyes on Commander star-cursing Hurricane? Should I remind you that she's still, in fact, our chief military rival?”

“Y...es, war mage. Should I prepare spell fire?” asked the mad bitch.

“The altitude that they keep for traversing long distances would make that pointless, Captain,” replied the wizard. "Better to cloak us from sight.”

“Already done,” I said, looking away from the telescope. I beamed at the group.

“I haven't noticed anything,” said Clover, confused.

“I believe that is the point, apprentice,” said my favorite Gandalf analogue.

The candle clock had burned down through another hour marker. I stared at it, and tried not to do the math that would tell me exactly how long I had been lying there. Of course, I failed.

“My mother,” I muttered, “was in labor for all of fourteen hours with me. I do not, not, not want to claim to have outdone her!” I was beginning to feel stupidly desperate. “Maybe a Cesarean?”

“A what, my lady?” asked Buggy Bumper, the midwife. I wasn't usually superstitious, but who could go wrong with a name like that?

“It's a cut, you just cut and pull the foal out through that. That can't hurt too much, right?” I asked.

“Love, you're scaring the nice mare,” said Winter, who'd been very patient with the midwife. I'd put my hoof down to make sure he wouldn't be chased out of the room. I didn't want him somewhere else, damn it all.

“That... that would be bad,” I admitted.

“Yes it would,” he agreed.

Buggy shook her head and put it out of her mind. It was a pretty common reaction for ponies that had to spend time in an enclosed space with me.

“You're nearly there, dear,” she assured me. Pony midwifing was apparently less involved than it was with humans- ponies were just built for easier births, I supposed. “Mind on something else, and keep breathing. What names have you got for the little one?”

“Solar Wind if it's a colt,” said Whistle.

“Minerva if it's a filly,” I said, voice cracking. Named for one of my favorite witches, of course.

“Dear, the little one's coming,” said Buggy.

I bit back the urge to, well, bite the mare. “Yes, I can feel it. They're not being very subtle, after all!”

I breathed and, at Buggy's frantic gesture, I bore down. I'd hurt more, in the past, and had the scars to prove it, but then I'd never had my mother-fucking vagina stabbed, before.

Finally, after a moment so horribly stretched-out I thought it wouldn't end, I heard a tiny, tiny cry. I was so absolutely out of it in that moment I hardly noticed finishing the rest of the whole, messy process.

“Oh my.” It took me a moment to realize I was the one talking. A very small thing had been pressed into my forelegs and it was crying at me.

“Healthy pegasus colt,” said the midwife. “Very bright coloring- more so than his mother, even.”

“Oh my,” I said, uselessly. I smacked my lips. “Why did I just lick him?” I asked.

“That's... what you're supposed to do?” said the midwife uncertainly.

'Right,' I thought. 'Magical pony land.'

“I don't have to eat the placenta, do I?” I asked. Buggy stared at me in incomprehension. “What? That's what cats do, right?” Ponies didn't really understand what endorphins were, and it began to occur to me that I probably had far too many of them, just then.

“You are not a cat!” she shouted.

“Thank you for you time,” said Winter, ushering her out the door. “Payment's on the counter downstairs, have a lovely evening.”

I ignored them and went back to grooming Solar. Pegasi, it seemed, didn't have feathers when they were born- just thick, downy hairs on their wings. He was going to shed everywhere. I just knew it.

He was a bright white, with strawberry-blond hair. I was like someone had bleached my own color pallet. His eyes were closed and still mostly blind, but I saw a hint of rose under his eyelids. Winter's eyes, only lighter. He began to calm and go quiet under my ministrations, until he was nothing put a softly breathing puff ball.

'I gave birth to a tribble. How nice.'

“Tham'ra, how are you feeling?” asked Winter, slowly approaching.

“Tired, reeking of sweat, achy, mildly delusional and uninterested in sex for the next two weeks,” I replied. “Get over here and hold us, you goofball.”

We settled into a quiet pile, and I was minutes away from drifting off to sleep before I heard:

“Eat the placenta? Really?”

“I will strike you down, Whistle.”

Three days, before he began walking. Locomotion was apparently something to be done wings out, head forward, and at full speed into any and all piles of books. On the plus side, parchment tended to be soft.

I levitated the little monster back over to myself after the fourth time he fell over, blinking in confusion that he hadn't yet mastered the ability to walk through matter.

“Dinner, kiddo,” I ordered. “Or... second dinner. My tribble is now a hobbit. Did you evolve? Like, pokemon-wise? I should take you out on the circuit and earn badges.”

Winter did as any good lover should and ignored my rambling, except for that moment that occurred every three seconds where he swung around to confirm that Solar and I were both still there and alive. I prayed ponies didn't get whiplash.

Solar ran head-first into my belly and, once again discovering where food comes from, once again went at it like he'd never eaten before. I winced, and tried not to think about the inevitable teething.

“Will you have that translation done by tomorrow?” asked Winter. “As it turns out, a party of unicorn scholars is coming through this week, and I think we'll have buyers.”

“Ought to,” I said, checking my latest page over. “Not like we need the money right now. Maybe I should take a break- start a project.” I blinked, and caught onto what he had just said. “Right. The second wave is coming through.”

Each tribe had sent scouts back, all looking to have enough of their own ponies to establish a foothold where the land bridge opened onto the new territories.

“Looks like,” agreed Winter, who had taken on a much more active opinion on politics ever since I threatened a Princess on his behalf. I'd made a stallion swoon!

“What kind of project?” he asked.

“Well,” I said, stroking Solar's mane, running out of hair before I ran out of hoof with each stroke, “I was thinking. There aren't any books here like I had back where I was born. No real foals' books. Kids can read before they turn two, did you know? At least, many of them can. The earlier the better."

"I'll just give him that essay on thaumic resonance you keep under your pillow," said the stallion with a grin.

I blew a raspberry. "Or he could proofread your essay on tides. No, I'm thinking something fun. With pictures. Lessons and morals but not, like, stupid ones. Share because it makes sense, not because you get gobbled by monsters if you don't."

"Who told you about the Greedy Guzzler?" asked Winter, appalled.

Ponies. Really.

"Seriously. I used to write a lot. Stories, not essays and notes on what can kill you. I could..." My thoughts began to wander, and I let them. I'd been a born bibliophile, and could probably recreate dozens upon dozens of books from memory. Human stories. I looked at Solar, who was suckling away like there was no tomorrow. He was as far from understanding the road I'd traveled as was possible. He ought to be sure of himself, and have stories he could relate to. Heaven knows I'd have liked to have had the same.

He was a pony. A small one, more of a pony pupa than anything, but a pony. He ought to have pony stories. Someday I'd tell him about all the strange places I'd come from, and he would either want to know more or just leave it behind, but that would be his choice.

In the meantime, I'd like to see him read.

I chuckled, ducked my head down next to my foal, and nuzzled him. I said, next, purely on a nostalgic lark:

"Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria..."

Warm light filled the room, and I froze at an unusual, tingly feeling.

I didn't wear my cloak in the house. It was why I immediately saw the change. On my flank, there was a stylized quill and ink well cutie mark.

"Winter? What just- what did I do?"

I heard the sound of bowls clattering to the counter top. Winter was blinking wetly.

"Wow," he said. "That... was a long time in coming. I guess it really does come to everypony, if they wait long enough. It's lovely, Tham'ra."

"Is it? It is." I wasn't sure quite how to express what I was feeling. I picked up Solar and held him up over my side. "Look, Solar, look at mama's butt! Isn't is awesome?"

"Nnn!" He wiggled and strained to be set down and go back to where the food was.

"Brat," I said, and started to laugh as I settled him back into place. I might have been crying. "That... that's not an explosion, or some goofy witch's hat, or... Winter, that's for stories!"

"I can't wait to read them," he said, abandoning dinner to cuddle up to us.

I was in the marketplace. For no particular reason, really, other than maybe to stalk a trader who tended to show up with rare books every once in a while.

"Mama!"

I was also wearing a decorative headpiece. Sure it was loud, hungry, and had to pee every hour on the hour, but it was also extremely adorable.

"Mama, book!"

It also knew four words, and used them extensively. Usually when it wouldn't make a lick of sense. Winter was alternately 'mama', 'no!', 'book', or 'food'. I lucked out, and was 'mama' more often than not. Solar wasn't close to being as cold-proof as me, young as he was, so he was wrapped in a heavy cape, and spent his time outside buried in my mane.

Flakes of snow fell all the time now, except in the afternoon. It wasn't summer anymore, but then the unicorns couldn't hold the sun's path so close forever. Privately, I was grateful- I had no way of knowing what kind of heat wave the rest of the world was dealing with. My foal had yet to feel warm weather, and probably wouldn't for some time.

I almost itched to follow the long track northward, but I knew that there would be no coming back. More than that, I didn't want Winter or Solar anywhere nearby when the Windigos finally made an appearance. Hearth's Warming Eve had yet to happen. The true bulk of the pony migration hadn't yet started.

And here I was, still working off of the throw-away comments made by one Twilight Sparkle, during the afternoons where we sat and watched caricatures of her adventures with her friends. Highly accurate and well-researched comments, but still nothing more than conversation. That had somehow become 'Prophecy 101', for myself, even if I could apply only a small fraction of it.

Thank goodness I hadn't pulled a Rainbow Dash and fallen asleep on the nearby couch instead of listening.

The 'third wave', as I called it, had been passing through. Builders, mostly, of every tribe. I dreaded the thought of real military passing through. Amaranth was a geological bottleneck for a race without any real seafaring abilities, and those close quarters alone had caused some serious problems.

"My lady witch, thank goodness I've found you!"

Case in point.

I turned and wore a weary smile for Paper Prudence, who ran the desk of the local constabulary. Or of what used to be, at one time, a constabulary. It turned out that the cops tended to be overwhelmed when dozens of stressed-out strangers ran through your town every day, all bearing royal writs from different 'kingdoms', and all with an ax to grind.

"What's going on, Prudence? Do you have more of that cobbler on hand?" I asked. I didn't ask what kind of cobbler. It was hit or miss- even with the temporary increase in trade made for by all the new travelers, food was still always in short supply. Gold, always plentiful in magic pony land, had dropped in value.

"I only wish I did!" said Prudence with a nervous giggle. "No, lady, there's another... a thing is... I think you might want to..."

"Where at?" I asked.

She slumped. "Market square. Please hurry."

I kicked off and took to the air. Solar shouted 'No!', but was giggling, so I assumed he was fine with it. He really loved flying. Even Winter had gone and taken him down by the dunes, where the slope and wind let the stallion get air time without stressing his body too much.

A few streets over, I caught sight of what had sent Paper into such a mood. Earth ponies and pegasi, a good dozen of each, facing each other down in the middle of the square. The earth ponies were big, lifelong tradesponies by the symbols on their flanks. The pegasi, also builders but of a different kind, were light things that were taking every opportunity to 'buzz' the earth ponies. They were used to shaping clouds. By the look of things, they'd go down hard if the earth ponies began bucking lumber into the air, which seemed to be what they were slowly aiming for.

The pegasi would go down hard, as would anybody else caught by the fracas. Or they would dodge, strike the earth ponies, and bystanders would still be hurt.

"Time to go to work, my little hobbit," I said, pulling my hood up over my head and the foal thereon.

"No!" he shouted, but giggled as he found himself in his favorite hiding place. "Book!"

"That's right," I said. "Book." I trotted forward and put on my most winning smile- that would be about all that the crowd would be able to see under my hood.

"Hello, and welcome to Amaranth! I am the welcome wagon, though as you may notice, I have no wheels. Times are hard- what can I say?"

Stares. Then- "Who in the hells are you?" asked one of the earth ponies.

"I'm the one welcoming you, as the welcome wagon. You," I said, pointing at the stallion in front of me. "And you," I pointed to the pegasus who was trying to get an angle on the back of that stallion's head, who froze sheepishly. "All of you! And if 'welcome wagon' won't do for a name, you can call me Tham'ra, the witch, lately a resident of Amaranth." My hood moved- and I carefully didn't react.

"What's that on your head?"

"It's a hood!" I declared. My hood giggled. "It may also be a foal- I was in a bit of a hurry to leave the house this morning, and I often mistake the two."

"Mama!"

"Probably just a hood," I said. "Now, are we gathered here for a party, or something? Unless you're just passing through, then just standing here and glaring at each other wouldn't be too productive." Both tribes bristled. "We can do this nice and peacefully, even. You guys go first," I said, pointing at the pegasi. They went from offended that I was butting into their business, to pleased that they'd been ushered ahead in the metaphorical queue.

"And what makes you say they ought to go ahead first, miss thinks-she's-a-witch? I can see your wings."

I quirked my head, and felt Solar grab on more tightly to my mane. "Because last time, I let the earth ponies through, first. I flipped a coin for it. This is fair, see? And you all-" I pointed to the ground bound group, "can go have a drink in Tilly's inn, knowing your fellows have a head start."

One of the pegasi, now looking more nervous, spoke up next: "And just how did you make sure that the pegasi didn't go first last time?"

I let my smile drop and, with a flare, brought my wings out to either side. And they kept coming out, kept unfolding, until they stretched to touch either end of the market square.

"I am the witch of Amaranth," I said, a hint of gravel to my voice. "Do you think I would have let them escape without my abiding?"

The pegasi didn't so much fly as teleport toward the north. I nodded, and tilted my head toward the remaining tribe. "Do enjoy your drinks. Then be out by sundown."

The lot of them backed away, and I guided them with one massive wing toward the pub. I guessed that they would wait until sundown was minutes away before charging out of the pub and toward the border of town at a dead run.

With a flap, I dispelled the wing. They burst into gently-falling feathers and then to dust, and then the dust blew away. They had come from dust to begin with- just corporeal enough to move the wind, just enough to fool the pegasi. I laughed, and Solar joined in because Mama thought something was funny.

The wings had been large enough to let me fly without the aid of pegasus magic- for a moment, I'd have fit in better on Earth than here. Biology took shortcuts in magic pony land. My wings were awesome, a healthy four feet out to either side, but they would be mere movie props if I couldn't navigate the weather itself.

My hood stretched, so I pulled it back to reveal Solar stretching his own wings in mimicry.

"Nuh uh," I told him. "Your feathers just came in." His first feathers, too- with no primaries. The limbs still existed to keep him warm and little else. I dreaded the coming months, when he reached that age where he had workable wings and too little mass to keep him grounded. A pegasus toddler was the most awkward foal possible.

"Come on," I said, because talking to a foal was both good for him, and meant I had an excuse to monologue. "We need to see Prudence. She can talk to the mayor for us, 'cause he's still angry about the thing with the cats."

As if it had been my fault. I just called it good old 'noodle incident number five'.

Paper Prudence was pacing by the town hall, nerves visibly snapping before she caught sight of the two of us and relaxed.

"Did it all go well?" she asked.

"Half gone, half supporting our local economy," I said. I ducked for a moment as she fussed over Solar for a bit. If I had to deal with ponies touching my pregnant belly, then it was his turn to get poked at. Fortunately for him, the foal was a lot more outgoing than I ever was. Like Whistle, maybe, before he became an angsty teenager.

It had taken me a bit to explain the concept of angsty emo boys, and he'd gone all sorts of pale.

"You should talk to Barter," I said, breaking Paper's little foal moment. "You remember what I told you before?"

"I can hardly believe it," said the mare, looking at the range of mountains that neatly held off both the Paradise Estate and the growing blight. "But I can't argue with all these other ponies leaving- some of our own have already joined the herds moving northward. The town might just empty on its own."

"Better to organize it," I said. "Or else we end up leaving the insular and elderly to be easy prey for the soldier bands that will soon follow. Nally's Foals' Home can't just decide to 'empty on its own', for instance."

"Nally's Barter's cousin," said Paper with a wince. "That should lend a bit more weight to it. Will you be traveling with us?"

I almost froze. I would have, too, if I hadn't thought about it ahead of time. The migration was speeding up. Dozens per week would turn to hundreds, then the Windigos would come, then the final bulk of ponies and any stragglers left thereafter. The three of us could stop at the land bridge, see that Amaranth as a whole went on hoof at least that far, and wait to cross ourselves.

It seemed selfish, but a kind of critical mass had to be achieved. Tensions rose every day, as predators starved and ponies found themselves with extra time to squabble over what was left. That would draw the wind spirits. Ought to. I would have walked to the very epicenter myself had I not been selfish enough to want a family at such a time.

Solar hugged my head. Maybe because he felt my tension, maybe because he just wanted to hug my head. I decided I definitely didn't regret him.

"We'll be going," I assured her. Whether we followed all the way was a matter of timing that I couldn't control.

That seemed to settle the eternally-anxious mare's nerves again, and she graced us with a smile.

Solar decided that meant he had a new landing platform.

"Solar, no!"

"The little foal looked at the dark, dark bedroom and thought, 'will fear help me?'. He knew he was home and safe, and so he thought, 'It's okay to be brave. This isn't like the dark forest, because my papa keeps the monsters out. I will be brave.' And so he lifted his head, and walked inside."

Solar was already out like a light, and had been for five minutes. I'd only made sure the extra buffer was there, to be certain. He jerked awake sometimes, when sudden air currents hit his little wings and told some gooey part of his brain that there were predators about.

Or maybe he was just twitchy, and evolutionary psychology was bunk. Either way, he got five more minutes of story time.

I set the roughly-bound book down on the side of the bowed, child-size bed shaped to keep him from rolling out, and back out into the hall. The door closed with a soft 'click', and I abruptly found myself unable to back up further. A warm weight settled over my back.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

"Lungs are clear, body strong, mind... a little cloudy," admitted Winter with a crooning chuckle. "Though I don't think that's because of the flu." He put his face into my hair and breathed in, slowly. I fought to keep a straight face, but it wasn't working very well.

"You were smoother before you started dripping from every hole in your face," I told him, trying to snark but aware that we were both getting warmer where our coats pressed together.

"I've got a few words I wrote. Couplets. Mostly about your flank," he admitted, and I cackled. Quietly, though, because Solar was napping, and...

"Solar's having a nap," I said out loud. "That gives us a good two hours alone with one another..."

"Two hours? I'm not that healthy, yet," protested Winter, but I could tell he was talking through a smile.

I gasped, and turned to give my most shocked, innocent look. "Oh dear, I suppose I'll be doing the work then. Because, like I said: Two. Hours."

This time, he was the one backing up.

It was summer. Nominally. Mostly that meant a break in the frost. Outside, I could hear the slow dismantling of Amaranth.

"I was distracted. It's been a distracting month," I declared. "How the hell didn't I notice!?"

"Weird cycles," said Winter, who had been scrubbing the same spot of table for about ten minutes. His fetlocks had gone all damp and he hadn't even noticed.

"This is... this is..." I paced, bent my head down to look at my still-flat stomach.

"Is this bad?"

My head swung back up with a snap. "No! No. An accident, not a mistake. There's a difference. Nobody claims this kid is a mistake, or I start setting fires." I may, possibly, have had a few buttons that could be pushed. Big, red buttons that blinked and whistled and carried warning labels in thirty languages.

"Right! Yes. Not a mistake," agreed Winter, forgetting he was holding a rag at all and scratching at his mane with the damp cloth.

"Good," I said, glancing back down at my belly. "...Now what?"

"Five bits on another colt," said Winter.

I came back up, maybe to snap at him or maybe to take him on his bet, but he'd already made a wing-assisted leap over one of our rickety stools and caught me up in a tight hug.

"You can do anything," he told me. "You could scare off armies, and survive jumping across a hundred worlds, and get me to fall in love with you."

"You know..." I said, leaning into him.

"Know what?" he asked.

"I can't get double pregnant."

Winter pulled back a bit and stared. "Is this how you always react to stress?"

I went momentarily cross-eyed in contemplation. "I could make it my habit, if I really tried. With the power of positive thinking."

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the next chapter. It's basically the start of a... long line of dramatic bits.

Hearth's Warming Eve is coming.