Chapter Nine

Is it very weird that I like watching these?" asked Twilight. Her, Rainbow, Fluttershy and I were all seated in my apartment, watching my computer screen in the dark. Rainbow was asleep, drooling on one of my spare comforters. Fluttershy was combing out the mane of a lion plushie that was easily larger than her- a token of a day at the carnival.

"Not really," I said, shifting so the princess wasn't cutting off the circulation in my leg. I only had so many chairs, after all. "It's like... photo albums. You look at pictures of your last family reunion, and it only has the happier, sillier bits in it. Maybe you remember that uncle whats-his-face spiked the punch, or that one of your little cousins locked himself in the crawl space, but that's not in the photo album."

"It's just so... goofy, I suppose," said Twilight, waving a hoof at the screen where she and her friends were learning a very valuable lesson. "My friendship reports are never that short, and never so short on details. Goodness sakes, most of them have graphs, in real life!" In the corner, Fluttershy tittered. "I mean, you don't hear all the dirty jokes that Rarity and Applejack trade, either. They make a game of it, you know. Points if somepony blushes."

"Serious 'Les Yay'," I said, chuckling. At Twilight's confused look, I added, "As soon as you have a full day -and believe me, you'll need a full one- I'll introduce you to TV-Tropes."

The alicorn pat my calf. "Looking forward to it."

"I've got to ask, though..."

Twilight groaned. "Go on. The last time I let you make assumptions about ponies, you wrote a ten page story of Celestia as some kind of queen bee brood mother. Ponies are mammals- we don't pupate!"

Cue adorable snort from Fluttershy. Twilight would never know, but the pegasus had given me all the information on bees as my source material.

"Alright then," I said. "Magical kindergarten. What's up with that?"

Twilight sighed, then shuddered. "It's... a nickname. The Moonlight Society hosts... gosh, they're a bit like boot camp, I guess. Unicorns with trouble controlling their power get sent there to learn attenuation and focus. Think 'juvenile hall' meets a martial arts monastery. I've had to go four times."

"No!" I gasped, trying to cover my grin.

Twilight rolled her eyes and poked me in the kidney. "Don't give me that, you upstart monkey."

"Ape," I replied. "You technicolor tapir."

"I'd like to meet an ape," said Fluttershy. "Could we do that, please? Visit a zoo, I mean, if we have time?"

"From what I can tell, you've met every family of critters but apes," I remarked. "What's so special about them, other than being the most handsome animals?"

"There are none on Sola," said Fluttershy. "None at all. Like Earth has no wyverns, we have no apes."

"Weird," I remarked. "I smell a conspiracy- somebody set out to make sure that no pony would ever see an ape play with a kitten."

Fluttershy's eyes went absurdly large. I sighed, paused the episode, and brought up a Youtube search of Koko the gorilla.

"Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!"

The trip, some four months later, was... odd. As Amaranth made to move as a whole, we found ourselves being caught up from behind by a crew of earth ponies. The most practical tribe had decided, while the third wave was in progress, that they might as well make things easier on those families following behind.

Their answer was to build a road.

Amaranth -where it used to be, that is- had only been connected to the greater part of the Paradise Estate by a thin trail. A wider route, lain down with crushed gravel made from the nearby mountains, stretched up to that point in the coast just as we were building the last wagons and stowing away the remainder of our goods. Even my cart, preserved for almost four years, had gotten an upgrade. Not much of one, maybe, but a few extra enchantments had put a foal-sized space between the book shelves.

Winter would be introduced to my old traveling hammock. I was willing to make us both fit. Or fail at it hilariously.

Barter, the town mayor who had run unopposed for twenty years by virtue of nobody else wanting the job, had made the call for the town to simply travel with the civil engineers. It slowed us down, maybe, but meant the going was easier, and a small profit could be turned by catering to the workers. Nilly had already sawed open a bartop in the side of her own carriage.

But then Amaranth, one of the last towns to ignore the increasing segregation of the rest of the land, had found the plan a mixed blessing. Non-earth families, and especially mixed herds, found themselves trailing further behind by necessity. No more violence had broken out than the occasional drunken brawl, but a kind of psychological pressure had pushed them back anyway. The tradesponies all took the attitude that the other tribes were just yet more of their oppressors benefiting from their hard labor. In any other place, they might have been right.

Barter was an old stallion in a position of authority, with no romantic attachments- to put a more familiar, human label on it, he was like some sort of Victorian spinster, or governess. He only became more unpopular with the rising tension. That said, he tended to stay away from any conflicts. Authority defaulted to whoever yelled the loudest. Or, in my case, whoever could set themselves on fire on command.

I... straddled a fine line. Putting a stop to the violence could easily turn into me playing the part of the bully. Keeping myself safe through intimidation was one thing- it cast me as a strange, singular creature. Acting on behalf of a group, or of groups, meant I was seen as just another pegasus. Another overtly military gargoyle, of sorts.

On the other hand, I was sixth months into my pregnancy and having a hell of a time of it.

"Winter, I'm hungry."

He winced. With Solar, I'd been eating near my own weight in fish. This time, I'd gotten cravings I hadn't had since I left Earth.

"No red meat," said the pegacorn. "I am legitimately terrified, here. There is a family of cows following near the back, Tham'ra."

"I have been trying not to look at them," I said, looking away. "You could get me a squirrel. Squirrels are almost as dumb as fish, I think."

"I will not get you a squirrel," said Winter, looking ill. "Here," he said, digging into his saddlebag. "Eat a pickle. You like pickles."

"Does it bleed?" I asked, peering at it curiously.

"Sure," he said. "Look, I'll hitch myself up and we'll start, see? Everpony's doing their daily catch-up."

Say what you would, but the crews were making fast progress. More than that, but the long trail of those herds catching up were slowly but surely adding members to the working force. Most of them were volunteers. There were so many, they weren't just building forward from the end of the road- they wouldn't have fit. Sections at a time were being finished ahead of the road's 'end', and with every connection, progress jumped forward by miles.

"I should take a turn," I told him, the pickle having mysteriously disappeared. "It's a good ten miles-"

"Which is why you shouldn't," retorted Winter, glaring. But I could see the bags under his eyes.

"We could hire somebody," I said. I'd been insisting for the last two weeks, since we'd been on the road.

"That would go over just fine," he said back sarcastically. "Mixed family with a witch and a half-breed, ordering around an earth pony."

"We'll find a bulky uni... er, pegasus," I suggested. A healthy unicorn in their battle corps might manage it easily enough, but just asking would probably prompt an honor duel, or something. Pegasi at least had stamina to make up for the lack of raw bulk.

"What do you think, buddy? Wanna take a turn?" asked Winter. Solar peered down from the footboard, perched because his newest little habit was to seek out high places. Like a cat.

"Um, no. No, please," said Solar. I'd been beating manners into him by play-acting overly polite encounters for giggles- it seemed to be taking.

"Do you know what you're saying no to?" I asked, my lips quirking.

"No!" His wings whirred.

"There's that option, gone," said Winter, winking up at the foal.

"Heck to it," I said. "I'm gonna levitate it. Just... sideways."

"You can't levitate yourself," Winter reminded me. "Remember trying? You spent two weeks interrogating unicorns before giving up."

"We'll walk alongside it, then. Winter, you won't let me pull it. I won't let you pull it. We'll have a nice, romantic walk- it'll be a little like walking a dog," I told him, discretely renewing the warming spell I kept on his jacket.

The cold kept doing bad things to him. The last time he'd tried to play in the snow with Solar, he'd stumbled back inside unable to breathe. I reminded myself to ask one of the others in the 'mothers' circle' -which I otherwise avoided like the plague- to knit him a balaclava.

The new kid couldn't come soon enough. My biggest regret was that being a witch's son meant that other parents were wary about letting Solar play too close to their own foals. A sibling might turn out to have been the best thing for him.

One of the simplest facts of magic is that of kinesthetics -moving matter, which was its own branch of study- effected actual mass, and not apparent mass. Our cart was enchanted to hell and back, years of spells reinforcing each other until it was much smaller than it ought to have been, considering its cargo. It was lighter, too, slightly, but not when magic was imparting movement. Hence, why a sturdy pony could pull it, or even myself in an emergency, but pushing it those ten miles with magic would leave me magically worn out.

But I could hide magical exhaustion from Winter better than I could physical, and I'd have to drive myself half to death with it to actually endanger the baby. Thus, my option was clear.

That night, I very carefully waited until both Winter and Solar were deep asleep, and fluttered up to the roof of the cart. It didn't take long to unfold the telescope- Winter had set it up to be used whenever we stopped.

I adjusted it, leaned in, and spotted them. My little flying friends.

Now, I figured there were any number of reasons that 'sea hawks' might follow a group of ponies. Lots of creatures took cues from other species. Sparrows pecked grain from harvested fields, mice found crumbs fallen in the pantry, and so on. But I had let myself remain curious long enough.

I cloaked myself in as subtle and layered an illusion as I could. It was a demanding enough spell that it was impossible to cast anything else with it- the only limiting factor.

The second aspect to it was flight. I'd had longer to practice with my weather magic than any pegasus alive today. With what little focus I could spare, I could keep the wind wrapped around myself. My passage wouldn't so much as stir the night insects. That is, had there been any in the frosty air. I stepped away from the cart, and kept going until the last late-night bonfire was a speck, and began my climb.

It took ten torturous minutes just to gain the altitude. The air current came sleeting down the mountains at odd angles, and I had to adjust myself constantly. It was only once I came close enough to discern real shapes within the dark, fleet forms that I nearly lost hold of any sense of stealth.

Thestrals.

There had been thestrals flying above us the entire time. Decades of wandering, and not once had I come across more than rumor of the sub-tribe of pegasi. From here it was easy to see how, at some point, some pegasus foals had simply never lost the infant down on their wings, how the light sensitivity of childhood had similarly somehow been connected to what ought to have been a crucial developmental step, and had then turned into an advantage, however long ago.

I nearly squealed in excitement. I wanted to hug one, so bad.

After forcing myself to breathe the thin air in controlled gasps for a long minute, I swallowed and thought about how to go about this more cleverly. My little flying friends had always fled at the passing flocks of pegasi- spooking them by appearing from out of nowhere might very well cause them to react violently, and I wouldn't blame them. Fear was such a powerful motivator, after all.

Instead I wheeled around and gradually wove my way closer to the mountain's sides. As I'd suspected, not all of them were at play. A young stallion was... stringing an instrument? Oh, yes, he had a musical cutie mark. I didn't recognize either the mark or the real instrument it mimicked, but the meaning was clear. I settled next to him on the rocky outcropping, came in close, and adjusted my illusion cloak.

Casting any other spell was beyond me, right then, but pushing my current illusion out to encompass more space was less taxing than you'd think. He didn't even notice until I cleared my throat.

"What is it, Quill?" he asked, voice thick with an old pegasus accent that was only spoken in certain, out-of-the-way boonies. I guessed cultural transmission wasn't a big thing, for these folk.

"I would like to talk. Why are you following those ponies down there?" I asked.

His ear twitched, then he froze as he figured out my halting mimicry of his speech wasn't coming out of 'Quill's' mouth. He turned and stared, looking utterly horrified.

"I come in peace," I assured him. "I'm just an old, curious mare. Could you help me sit down? I'm afraid I'm a little further along than I ought to be, making a trip up here like this with a foal on the way," I said, pretending to slump and stumble. My gambit payed off- he dropped his instrument and hurried to help ease me back against the outcropping.

"Who're you?!" he hissed. "Why are ya'-" He was panicking, slit eyes a wide, scared red.

"Just visiting, because I'm curious," I said. "I'm a bit of a scholar, which makes me nosy by definition. Don't feel too bad, now. I'm a mad witch- you never had a chance to hide. Us witches are insufferable like that." True. The only other -pony- witch I'd met had been a paranoid hermit of an earth pony who had tried to feed me to a carnivorous elm. Good times.

"You should go," he said, trying to look older than he was. It didn't work- his voice cracked midway through the sentence.

"I really shouldn't. Not yet, anyway," I said. "Would you like to be friends?"

"What."

"I've never been friends with a thestral. It could be nice! I learn about you, you learn about the blight I'm sure your people have noticed, everybody wins."

"You know what the blight is?" he asked. It came out quickly, almost as if he hadn't meant curiosity to get the better of him.

"I predicted it," I replied. "Witch, remember? It's why I could scream at the top of my lungs and none of your kin would notice. So, what's your name?"

He looked steamrolled. "Midnight. But, no! You just can't..."

But from there, it was easy.

Three weeks later, I lost my mind.

Not immediately, of course. First there was Desnee Digger.

He was one of the problem stallions on the work crews. I'd had cause to watch him more than once, and Nilly had made it a habit of kicking him out of -away from, rather- her traveling bar. Winter had gone there early in the evening to buy some brandy. Heated, and stewed with honey and raspberries, it was the best way we'd found yet of helping his persistent cough.

Desnee was a mean drunk, and Winter, turned so confident over the last four years, had spoken up just as the massive pony had begun one of his tribalist rants. Desnee must have made a more eloquent speaker with his hooves than his mouth, because he reared back and delivered a mule kick into Winter's side.

It was important to keep in mind that the largest earth ponies working the road crushed the paving gravel with nothing but their own, inborn strength.

Two more of the work crew had pulled the drunk off of Winter. I wasn't certain if they would have done the same if he hadn't been wearing his wing-concealing jacket, or if they just didn't want their mate to see trouble over a half-breed.

Winter walked all the way back to our cart before collapsing.

"Whistle?" I asked, sorting through some reams of parchment out front of the cart with Solar. "I know I suggested you stay for a beer, but-"

The ragged sound of his breathing reached my ears, and it was entirely too wet.

"Winter!" I jumped off the cart and ran to him. "Prudence! Prudence, get over here now!"

From the next camping spot over, I heard hooves nervously sliding over the gravel. I put it out of my mind as I slid to a halt next to the stallion and began checking him over. My first worry was some sort of deep, respiratory infection. Those were rare in ponies, but Winter had a bad constitution when it came to the cold.

But he wasn't feverish at all. When I probes his ribs, I had half a second of finding that something felt incredibly off before his body seized up in deep, wracking coughs that left bloody spittle over my haunch.

I lifted the jacket. His wing was... bent. As was his side. There was a dent in his ribs, wide and deep, and Winter's head was rolling back into the gravel and his horn scraped against the freshly-chipped stone.

"Tham'ra? What's going... oh sweet earth mother!"

"Prudence, get a healer. Get every unicorn healer you can find. Bring them now," I ordered her. She ran.

I readied one of the only two healing spells I'd ever been able to devise. The flesh-knitting one was useless in this case, because I couldn't cast with enough delicacy to heal internal injuries. I shakily shaped vapor into the script for a Soothing Susurrus. It took me three tries to cast the numbing spell correctly.

Winter's shaking eased, but he didn't breathe any easier. If anything, the sudden lack of movement made me feel even more horrified at the situation.

"Love? Look at me. Eyes open and look at me," I said, voice too loud. Solar had approached at some point in time, and I swept him close with a wing.

It took the stallion a long, slow moment to manage it, but his eyes finally lit on my face. He mouthed something, grimaced, then tried again: "H..hey, love. Went... wrong, there." His side rose in a breath, except where it was damaged. If anything, that spot seemed to only sink in further with the effort. "It'ssh... alright. Feels okay."

"Because of my magic, dummy! You're hurt!" I barked, as if he could have missed that little fact.

He grinned. "Yeah... Thanks for... th'magic. Better."

"No. No you're not."

I had seen so many injuries, over the years. There was red foam at his lips- never had that meant an easy recovery. Rarely had it meant a recovery of any kind at all.

Solar struggled forward and tried to pet his father's mane, making 'shoosh' noises. Winter shooshed him back, and the foal forgot to be scared. He giggled as I pulled him back.

"Tham'r, somethin' I wanted... tell you," said Winter.

"I love you too," I said, a bit too quickly. I was well aware of the time constraint.

"No... knew tha'... Come closer..."

I leaned forward. He whispered in my ear, kissed my mane, and then I leaned back and nodded. I didn't react to what he told me. That was the wrong time for it.

"Winter, healers are coming," I told him, but the sounds of frantic ponies were still a long way off. I realized they might have been too late even had they been waiting at the cart with me when the pegacorn first returned. His eyes trailed back to his side, and he weakly shook his head.

"S...sorry," he slurred. Then his head fell back.

He slept for another hour that night, until he wasn't just sleeping, anymore.

I woke up the next morning shivering. I hadn't stopped in well over twelve hours. Solar was nestled into my side, just above the curve of my belly. He stirred as I moved, yawned at me, then began looking around.

I followed him as he jumped out onto the frost-rimed ground and began circling the cart, peering under the wheels every so often and frowning when he didn't find anything. He glared at me as if I was playing a trick on him.

"Dad?"

I shook my head. He began peering around again, and started another circuit of the cart.

Louder crunches echoed behind me and Prudence shuffled up. I looked at her, but didn't speak until she met my eyes.

"Can you watch Solar?" I asked. "Just for an hour or two. I know you're busy with Berry Leaf, but-"

"Sure enough, Tham'ra," she said. "I... I can understand if you need a moment alone."

I smiled. "Thank you, Prudence. Can you do me a larger favor?" I asked. Her ear flicked in acknowledgement. "Just keep him inside the cart until I come back? He shouldn't see his mother upset, alright?"

"Of course," said Prudence. "You're a strong mare, Tham'ra. Have your time to be weak if you need to- we all do."

I nodded, as if I was seriously taking her advice, and kissed the still-searching Solar before walking off. Behind me, I heard Prudence bundling him up and pulling him inside. No doubt she'd stoke the little inside stove and get some warm food in him.

I stopped by Nilly's, apologized for waking her up, and asked a few questions before moving on.

It was another mile to reach the spot where the tradesponies camped. While I crossed the distance, I considered script combinations. Freecasting was messy at the best of times, even with all my practice, but it seemed more and more obvious, the further I got, that I'd have to resort to just that. I'd be needing a new spell, after all.

There were always ponies awake with the dawn there, moving and exhaling steaming air as they moved about. Still, there were more about than was normal. One stood in the middle of the road, eyes on me as I approached. Amber Etching, if I remembered right- the crew's foremare.

"Good morning," I told her. I was absolutely expressionless. It seemed to be too much effort to so much as smile or frown, just then.

"Lady witch," said Amber, the most polite address I'd ever heard from one of her crew. No big deal, that. She went straight to whatever words she'd had prepared for me. "I know something happened last night. Rest assured, it will be taken care of."

"Of course it will," I said, nodding. "Can you please show me where I can find Desnee Digger? I need to see him. It is important."

"Lady, I promise, we'll be determining just what's happened here. Whatever extenuating circumstances-"

I blinked, slowly. "But there aren't any of those. Please show me where I can find Desnee Digger. The barmaid explained everything to me, already. Thank you for offering, but I won't be needing your help."

"Listen, witch," she said, but I wasn't, and didn't plan to.

I swept my wing to the side, gently, and she accelerated over the gravel until she disappeared somewhere past my peripheral vision. Then I walk on.

Other ponies tried to approach, so I swept them away too. Everybody else seemed to notice that I hadn't had to so much as brought either of my wings within several body lengths of the interfering ponies, so they kept their distance. I kept on cantering forward.

There was a clever little building meant to be assembled wall by wall, like some sort of on-site construction trailer minus the wheels. A dozen ponies stood there, as if protecting something at their backs. I approached, but slowed to a stop once the lot of them began to bristle. One of them stepped forward firmly, but she seemed a bit pale for all that.

"You can't have him," she told me, answering my first question before I could ask it.

"So he is in there?" I asked. "That will do just fine, thank you. Please step away from the building."

"No!" the mare shouted, more firmly still. I ignored her.

Then I cast the Mammalian Mirage.

I got the idea from good old-fashioned thermal imaging. Except, instead of changing my own sight, it changed how everything looked. Every pony within the area began trailing colored smoke- reds and yellows according to their body heat, that plumed up into the air in sharp contrast to the frost.

Ponies shouted in alarm. Some screamed, and I didn't blame them. Later, I would feel bad for casting magic on them without their permission. Even harmless, it was bad form and poor manners. But that would come later. Now, I took in what was plain for the world to see.

One large plume. He was alone in there- even children would have shown up, small as their heat signatures were, but now I could be certain he was alone. That was good.

My next trick was nothing especially 'witchy'. I'd been trailing my wings back over my body the entire walk here, collecting air and dragging it along in a messy kind of balloon. Anybody who bothered to walk behind me would find it like trying to walk into a storm, only without the movement.

I slapped my wings forward, over my head, and the bag opened up around me, directed forward and into the building. The pressure skyrocketed within, too fast to escape back into the outdoors, and the structure gently, but firmly, popped..

The line of ponies was blown forward. I stepped between them, swaying to avoid the falling planks of wood, and came right up to Desnee Digger. He was stunned, and that was no small wonder.

I let the Mirage dissipate, reached into my cloak, and jammed a seed pod down his throat. The confused stallion choked it down, eyes rolling, until he suddenly came to his senses and realized he should be terrified.

"What was that?! What did you do to me?!"

I sensed the approach of dozens of ponies, all moving much more carefully now, but none moving to attack, yet. Good. It was better to have an audience for this part.

"You just ate a 'bleeding heart fig'," I told him. "Something I found a long time ago, traded for more gold than you'll ever hold. It cost me... well," I grinned, "it cost somebody an arm and a leg, just to obtain."

He clutched at his throat.

"Don't be afraid of it," I said. "It won't hurt you. Really, it only does one thing." I leaned in, just a bit, and spoke up so that the growing crowd of would-be witch burners caught every word. "It will make you tell the absolute truth. Now, why did you kill my lover?"

Digger shook his head, but his eyes were already going filmy. Whatever he may have wanted, his mouth opened of its own accord.

"That freak was talking like he knew better! Better than I did! I was telling it like it is, those lazy fucking unicorns, those stupid fucking pigeons, and he was both, and he told me to stop! I kicked him, and I was going to keep kicking him but these weak dirtsacks stopped me!" He shouted louder than ever, but there were tears in his eyes, now- there wouldn't be any hiding behind 'circumstances' for him.

The group around us had stopped approaching. I looked, briefly, at them. They looked angry, or sickened, or dazed. A very few looked approving of his words- I'd watch for them.

"He walked away alive. Did you want him to die? Did you mean to kill him?" I asked, bringing my attention back to Digger.

He was all but sobbing. "Yes, I'm happy he died." I didn't have to ask how he felt about having to face the consequences of his actions.

"He couldn't fly," I said quietly. "Not very much like those 'pigeons' you mentioned, he couldn't lift more than an apple with his magic, not with the world's greatest wizard helping him. He had a son." I patted my side. "He had another foal on the way. He read me poetry every night. Do you care?" I asked. "Would knowing have made you not do what you did?"

"He was a freak," said Digger, shuddering.

"Okay." I stood back up and hooked him up alongside myself with a Ghostly Hand. He thrashed, but I ignored that.

Amber Etching was back, looking rumpled but determined. "Witch, you can not do this."

"Can't I?" I wondered, and double checked my surroundings. But no, there weren't any gods in my way, and I didn't especially feel tired, despite the long, restless night. "Oh," I said, "You meant to say that 'I shouldn't do this' or that 'you wouldn't allow me to'. But both of those are not correct." A thought occurred to me. "Don't worry, I don't plan on killing him. His life will be entirely out of my hooves."

She didn't look reassured in the least, so I added, "Really, he'll be very much alive after I'm done!"

She still didn't move. Honestly, I'd woken up so completely, absolutely calm that morning that I was caught surprised by how easily I switched gears. Dust rose and my wings seemed to grow out twenty feet in either direction. I lit the dust on fire because I felt like it, and my illusory wings flared and sent heat out in a circle. I scented burning paper on the air.

"I don't give a flying, feathered fuck about what you think I cannot do! He murdered Winter, and the greatest mercy I'll offer is to give winter a chance to murder him, you simpering, ignorant, bigoted children!" I reared up and sent a billow of hot, dry air over the crowd. "I am tired of this! Any creature that wants to leave this corpse of a land will do so in peace, or they won't leave at all! Kill yourselves and each other once you step off the land bridge, and not a moment before." I glared. "Or take the easy way out, and try to stop me now."

I twitched my wings, and burning feathers fell away to either side.

Nobody dared try to stop me.

I walked back down the road, past the crews, and past Amaranth, until I was passing through the growing mass of migrants. It probably made for an odd sight. Me, seemingly oblivious to the pony alternately walking, kicking, or letting himself be dragged along in an effort to fight my hold, who trailed right behind me.

It probably helped that Digger's screamed, still-truthful rant never stopped, not once, as I walked against the flow of traffic.

The ponies who we passed knew he was a killer. Two out of three looked at this as an obvious kind of justice. The remainder didn't step in to help him as Digger described, over and over again, killing my husband in all but name.

I stopped at some point. Just far enough, I thought, and dropped Digger out in front of me. The spell I'd been scripting, mulling over in my head for the past hour suddenly solidified. It would work. I could tell- it felt right.

Digger shrieked and rolled, trying to get away as letters made of cloud stuff sunk into his fur, visible to the open air for bare moments as it took hold.

"Digger? Desnee Digger, put your eyes on me. I'm going to tell you exactly what's going to be happening to you, from now on." He wasn't listening, so I shook him violently with the Ghostly Hand. "There. Now, that bleeding heart fig was... well, I fed you the whole one. You won't be able to stop yourself from explaining yourself to everybody you meet. That's not your punishment, but it certainly won't hurt."

I stepped in close, until he had no choice but to look me in the eyes. "At first, you'll be pulled south. You can walk, or the magic will drag you until the skin falls off, up until you get back to the lands of Paradise Estate, central. You'll be by the shore, then. Feel lucky I didn't make you take a more direct route, through the mountain range."

The spell took hold and began dragging him away. I cantered gently, keeping up. "Next, you'll be free to go anywhere... except backwards. Every step you take toward the center of... Paradise... is one you can't take back. You can circle, or stop, or just keep on marching, but sooner or later you'll find yourself in the dead center of the subcontinent. Then... you'll stay there. I hope you eat well before you reach that point, because that's where you'll stay."

He was angling forward where the road had curved, and he had to fight to keep himself from pressing off the boulders scattered to the side, freeing himself onto an open path before being crushed. Still, I followed him.

"Winter is coming, Desnee Digger. The land is already dead, and the ice will come. It will bury you- the howling ghosts will have their new domain, and they will find you, so pray you freeze to death and are safely buried by the frost before they come!"

I stopped, and watched him be dragged inexorably onward. "Walk, Digger! Walk the long road and don't stop! You took Winter, and now winter is coming for you!"

I shook. I shook, and fell, and sobbed there. I'd pulled the most satisfaction that was left to be had, and it didn't amount to hardly anything. Soon I'd have to fly back and ready a boat to take Winter out to sea, because I knew he would prefer that to cremation or burial. He'd want to go like his pegasus father. I'd have to explain to a child still working on his full sentences that his dad wouldn't be coming back.

I would have to puzzle over Winter's last words, when they were hardly a puzzle at all, but the last little clue to the century's greatest puzzle.

The night air was cool, some two weeks later. As if it would be anything else, I mused. Solar and I were curled up on the roof still, having somehow missed the fact that our yawning meant we should have migrated to the cot inside.

I had stopped trying to put Solar back in his own little makeshift nest after the first two nights. Fitting myself and Winter in that small space had been an exercise in stupidity, and some of our limbs inevitably ended up hanging off, but now it was unbearably empty. And Solar kept waking up to find dad and I both, only to fail every time. Better not to let him wake up alone for a while.

Not sure why we hadn't slept the night through and woken with the sun in our eyes, I glanced around until I saw we had a visitor. And really, with how quiet thestrals tend to be, I felt pretty impressed with myself that his approach had caught my attention at all.

Then Midnight tapped the roof with his hoof again, and I realized he'd already done before it as a courtesy. Damn it.

Realization hit me, and I stood up.

"Oh, Midnight, I'm sorry. I missed our meeting, and the one after that, and-"

"I saw the boat," he said, and my mouth clicked shut. "I figured to give you some time- don't worry about forgetting."

Proof positive that not all teenagers were oblivious, I supposed.

"Yes," I said. "Well-"

"Mama?"

Midnight and I both looked over- Solar was awake and muzzily wiping at his eyes. "Who is it? Scared?" he asked.

I smiled. Reading my little story to him, 'Feel As I Will', had been a good idea.

"No, dear. Midnight is a friend. He helps me with my books, like dad did." A written lore of thestrals, which was different than what Winter and I had sometimes worked on together, but close enough. "Come say hi, he's nice."

Nervous but, knowing that it was okay to be brave whenever I gave the okay, he trotted forward and smiled shyly. "Hi! Ah... I'm Solar? Who?"

"Er, Midnight," said the young stallion. "Didn't you just hear-"

"He knows it's polite to give his name and get a name back," I told Midnight. "Now, um... do you mind if I put him down for the rest of the night and we can get started?"

"No need," said Midnight. "I'm just dropping in. The elders are moving us up to the the Lonely Sentry- that's the last mountain at the land bridge, so we have a good place to see what's happening down here. They're all very curious. I thought about letting them know what you told me, but..."

"They'll be angry," I supplied. "And not be in a listening mood."

"Yeah," said Midnight, his sheepish smile flashing long, sharp canines. "I've got one or two of the other kids I'm going to talk to. Ponies who won't freak out, you know?"

"They're free to visit," I assured him.

Midnight flinched- Solar had wandered up and started touching his wings. The foal looked up and asked, "Why?"

I caught onto his meaning, and gestured him closer. He leaped into my chest and tucked his head up under mine, glancing out at Midnight.

"Remember," I said, "What I said about all the ponies? There's pegasi, and unicorns, and earth ponies and sea ponies and flutter ponies too?" He nodded, and rubbed his head up against my chin. "This is a new kind- he's a thestral. He likes the dark, and he likes to fly really high, and he likes fish, and apple juice, and he plays songs."

Solar quirked his head. "Shessal?"

"Thestral," corrected Midnight.

"Tessle?"

"Thest..." the stallion sighed. "Bat pony. Bat pony is good."

"Bat pony!" chirped Solar. Of course he got that right away.

"Right," said Midnight, bringing his attention back to me. "So, um... how's it going with the..." he pointed at my belly. Awkward boy! Polite, though.

"Five months, maybe earlier," I said. "I'm doing fine- no tea, no alcohol, just waiting until I start waddling like a penguin."

"What's a penguin?" asked Midnight. "No, nevermind. But, um, remember, if you're looking for names, 'Midnight' is a very handsome one."

I laughed. "Nice try. I've already got a name, though. Go, Midnight, I'm sure I'll see you under the mountain."