Chandra was not happy. Not. One. Bit.

She was tripping over roots and fallen logs, clambering and falling over large rocks and small hills, squirming past and through the occasional thorny bush, getting repeatedly smacked by branches that were in the way, and barely seeing more than twenty feet in front of her even with her light, thanks to the gathering gloom. Even if they found the world’s greatest place to sleep, she’d probably wake up tomorrow with all sorts of aches.

Of course, she only had herself to blame. She was the one who’d volunteered to go out hunting for… someplace useful. But that didn’t change the fact that getting through the forest was a lot harder than she had anticipated. It wasn’t like there was a path or anything she could follow to make her way easier; she just had to rough it over irregular, unkempt terrain that looked like blown-up sandpaper.

Chandra paused for a moment to place her horn against a tree. After a moment, a ball of light grew from the tip and hung there, motionless. She glanced over her shoulder. The other lights she’d placed were still glowing brightly enough that she could follow them back to the river.

As she stumbled across another rock, Chandra had to admit she was secretly dreading heading back to the river. The chances of them finding anything out here were far slimmer than she had admitted. There was probably nothing for miles besides the train tracks, and no one knew when the next train would come by. Well, maybe Amber might, what with her paranoia, but that was slim. And even then, you simply couldn’t stop a train quickly; it’d far overshoot them by the time it made it to a halt. If the engineer even saw them.

And as for anything else… well, what was there out here? Not much. Too far into the forest for timber. And that was pretty much the only thing that came to Chandra’s mind; they were just so isolated.

Still, a slim chance was better than a nonexistent chance, Chandra acknowledged to herself as she came to stop in a tiny clearing. There could be a crazy old hermit with a place to stay. Or some ruins that might provide some shelter. Or a mining company that was after some sort of rare metal.

Pfft. Yeah, right. And maybe help would fall from the sky.

“Hey there.”

Chandra jumped about a foot in the air and fell to the ground with her legs in a jumble, her light going out. As she picked herself up, she began looking around the forest. With the sun almost completely set, it was hard to see anything, but mayb-

“Up here.”

Pulling enough magic into her to conjure some more light, Chandra looked up. On a branch above her sat a pegasus vigorously pumping her wings. She was a kind of semi-pale, cyan-y blue, with violet eyes. Her mane and tail were long, poofy, and messy, almost like she had just been flying, their colors layered into two distinct halves of white and light green. Chandra couldn’t get a good look at her cutie mark. And then she noticed something else: the pegasus wasn’t sitting on the branch, but hanging off of it, her forelegs hooked around it. Odd. Her hooves had a rather absurd amount of feathering, the hairs just as tangled as her mane.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then the pegasus repeated, “Hey there.”

And how am I supposed to respond to that? Eventually, Chandra went with, “Hey there.”

The pegasus cocked her head. “You’re lost, ain’tcha?”

“What makes you say that?” asked Chandra. Amber had said that there weren’t a lot of ponies living out here, but maybe they were closer to civilization than she had thought. Maybe she could get some answers without revealing why they were out here, which would raise a bunch of awkward questions.

The pegasus cocked her head the other way. “Well, gee,” she said. “Maybe it’s because the train’s pretty much the only pony-made thing for loads of miles?”

Welp. So much for that.

“I’ve been all over these woods,” continued the pegasus, “and nopony else’s moved near here since ever. There’s no cool landmarks or anything that you couldn’t find easier somewhere else. You got no reason to be out here. Unless, of course, you’re lost. Probably from the river or the train. So: you’re lost, ain’tcha?” All the time, she kept beating her wings.

“Maybe,” said Chandra semi-defensively. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Butterflying.”

Chandra waited a few seconds, but the pegasus didn’t continue. Evidently, that explained nearly everything in her eyes. “I see,” she said, convincing nopony. “And you’re hanging onto the branch like that because…?”

“Because butterflying is easier like this.” A smile seemed to be inching its way onto the pegasus’s lips.

“I see,” said Chandra, still convincing nopony. “And butterflying is important, is it?”

“Undoubtedly,” said the pegasus. “It’s unequivocally one of the most important and prestigious yet underrated positions in all of Equestria, me hanging off of this branch and flapping my wings in one place all day.” Her face was straight enough that it was hard to tell whether she was being sarcastic or not; the smile had been kicked out.

“I… see,” said Chandra, hat-tricking her convincing-nopony streak. She tried thinking about whether or not the pegasus could’ve been kidding and just got confused.

Silence reigned for another few seconds. Then the pegasus giggled and folded her wings. “You should see the look on your face,” she said, jumping down. “It’s like…” She held her hooves in front of her face, like she was framing a camera shot. “…perfect.”

“Greeeaaat,” said Chandra flatly.

“Name’s Galeblazer,” said the pegasus. Now that the pegasus… Now that Galeblazer was down from the branch, Chandra could see her cutie mark: three tight spirals. Probably something to do with wind. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Well…” Chandra rubbed the back of her neck, and decided to just spit it out. “We’re lost.”

“We.” It wasn’t a question, just an observation.

“Yeah, some… colleagues of mine-” That was the best way to put it. “-are down by the river.” She nodded down the path. “One’s hurt a leg. Not bad, but it’s hard for him to walk in the forest at night.”

Galeblazer was frowning as she listened. It was the thoughtful sort of frown, though. When Chandra was done, she said, “How many, and where are the rest of you?”

“Five, including myself,” said Chandra. Is she taking us in or something? “And we’re at a sort of… zigzag in the river.” She wished she’d gotten a better look at the surrounding area. “Part of it’s a long, wide bend, where the trees don’t grow so cl-”

“Great big rock on the inside of the curve?” cut in Galeblazer. “Just out of sight of the train bridge? Lots of branches sticking up out of the river like a half-built beaver dam?”

Chandra stopped talking, her mouth still open. She paused, closing her mouth as she tried to remember their landing spot. “Y-yeah,” she said, surprised. “You really do know the land, don’t you?”

“Been here a while,” said Galeblazer vaguely. “So, tell you what.” She began hovering just off the ground. “I’ll get some pals of mine, take care of you guys for the night. You can be on your way tomorrow. Deal?”

Don’t think anyone else’ll mind. It’s better than what we thought we had. “Deal,” said Chandra. Before Galeblazer could fly off, she added, “But just a moment. What do you mean, ‘butterflying’?”

Galeblazer grinned. “You know the old saw about butterflies and hurricanes? I’m a butterfly.”

With that, she took off, leaving Chandra no less confused than before.

Kalahari pulled on the vine, tightening Phalanx’s makeshift bandage. He sucked in a breath and softly groaned through clenched teeth, beating his wings.

“Sorry,” said Kalahari quickly, letting the vine drop out of her mouth. “Is i-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been through worse,” muttered Phalanx. He glanced at his leg and flexed it a little, wincing. “Maybe if I keep this straight…” He pushed himself up on his good legs. He took a few awkward steps, keeping his bad leg elevated. Then, hesitantly, Phalanx put weight on his bad leg. He let off a sort of muted scream and dropped to the ground again.

Kalahari was at his side immediately. “That bad?” she asked quietly.

“Ow,” Phalanx hissed. “Ow ow ow.” He stood up again. “I can manage if I need to,” he said, breathing deeply, “but I don’t want to do it n-”

“Hey!”

Kalahari and Phalanx looked up. Ida was trotting out of the forest, a chunk of tree bark in her teeth. She dropped it in front of Phalanx, inside up. “Lick that there.”

Phalanx looked down at the bark just in time to see a bug crawl across it. He looked up and gave Ida his best “you have got to be kidding me” look. After several years of teaching pikeponyship, he was quite good at them.

“It’s willow,” said Ida. A little nervously; Phalanx’s look had gotten to her a bit. “It’s got stuff in there that’s, like, natural painkillers or something. Seriously, it works.”

“She’s right, actually,” said Kalahari. “See, willow produces this chemical, salicylic acid, that blocks nerves from sending pain signals. It’s the primary ingredient in-”

“Fine,” grunted Phalanx. “Whatever.” Giving the bark one last skeptical look, he bent down and dragged his tongue across the bark. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your outlook), it was relatively tasteless, so he didn’t have to suffer anything nauseating. Just bits of wood coming off the bark, getting caught in his teeth, and the occasional bug skittering across his tongue. Yech.

“It was originally used by some buffalo tribes as medicine,” rambled Kalahari. “First came to Equestrian attention wh-”

Phalanx stuffed a hoof in Kalahari’s mouth. “We get it,” he said flatly. “Can you be quiet now?”

Kalahari soundlessly nodded.

Phalanx pulled his hoof away. “Sorry,” he muttered, “but… with this…” He held out his leg as best he could. “…I’m a bit short-tempered.”

“That’s all right,” said Kalahari, waving a hoof. “I should learn to shut up more, anyway.”

“Right,” said Phalanx. He glanced down at the river. Amber was still trotting back and forth down there. “Could someone go and check on her?” He gave the bark another dubious look and licked it again.

“I’ll do it,” said Kalahari. She stood up and awkwardly shuffled down the slope to the shore of the water.

Amber had definitely been at it a while; she was beginning to flatten a strip where she kept walking back and forth. It wasn’t much, but it was still noticeable. She was also, Kalahari noticed, muttering to herself under her breath. “Stuck out here, no way to get back, night falling…”

Kalahari cleared her throat. “Um, hey? Amber?”

Amber didn’t notice. “All my fault, they’ll blame me for it…”

“Hey. Amber.”

“Can’t exactly blame them for it, if not f-”

“Amber!”

Amber yelped and tripped over herself, sprawling face-first on the ground. She pulled herself up and spat a clod of dirt out of her mouth. “Oh, hey,” she said to Kalahari. She was shaking a little. “What’s up?” She smiled a smile that couldn’t have been less convincing if it had been drawn on a sheet of paper and taped over her mouth.

“Just checking up on you,” said Kalahari. “You doing all right?”

“Heh. All right? Of course I’m all right. Totally all right. Why wouldn’t I be all right?” said Amber. She was talking rather quickly. “I mean, it’s not like I dragged you all into some criminal conspiracy and got you stranded in the middle of nowhere with night closing in and one of us with an injury that leaves him practically unable to walk and now we’re all going to die and it’s all my fault.” She giggled shrilly. “Yeah. Nothing like that. Why do you ask?”

Kalahari sighed. “Amber, look, just- calm down, okay? It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, really?” asked Amber. She began trying to smooth her hair with a foreleg. “And why is that? I suppose we’re not going to die?”

“Of course not,” snapped Kalahari. She flinched almost immediately; that was a bit harsh. “No, we’re not going to die,” she repeated, this time more softly. “Why would you say that? We can sleep here if we absolutely need to, although…” She glanced around the darkened river. “I’d prefer not to.”

“It’s going to get cold,” said Amber tentatively.

“Not that cold,” said Kalahari. “We’ll live through it. Uncomfortable? Yes. But we’ll be fine.”

“And Phalanx?” asked Amber, jerking her head up the hill. “He can’t walk out the forest in the shape he’s in.” She was calming down a bit.

“He can fly,” said Kalahari. “He just didn’t want to tonight because it was too dark.”

Amber slapped a hoof to her face. “Right,” she muttered, dragging it down. “So we’ll be fine. Not comfortable, but fine. That’s… not that bad, I guess.” She frowned. “Chandra’s not back yet, though. I suppose it’d be a bit much to ask for her to come back soon, just so we know she’s safe.”

At that moment, a light began flickering in the trees, growing brighter by the second. Soon, Chandra walked out of the forest towards Ida and Phalanx. She was saying something to them, but Kalahari couldn’t make out what it was.

“Huh,” said Amber. She paused. “I suppose it’d also be a bit much for a pony to fall from the sky and announce that they’ve got a good place to stay?”

Against the final orange of the sunset, a winged silhouette shot out from above the trees. The pony did a few loops of the area and dropped down between Kalahari’s group and Phalanx’s group, a broad grin on her face. “Hey there,” she said, remarkably chipper, “I hear you need a place to stay for the night? I got one.” She looked familiar, but Kalahari couldn’t say why, exactly.

“She really can, you know,” Chandra called down to Kalahari and Amber. “She’s safe.”

Kalahari and Amber exchanged significant glances. Amber bit her lip, but Kalahari could tell what she was thinking and nodded.

“I suppose,” Amber said slowly, “it’d also be a bit much for two more pegasi to appear with a stretcher for Phalanx?”

“And don’t worry about your friend,” said the pegasus, taking off again. “We’ve got him covered.” She waved to someone in the distance and came back down. Two more pegasi came over the trees, carrying something between them. Sure enough, it was a stretcher. They landed right next to Phalanx.

As Phalanx began talking with the pegasi, Kalahari glanced at Amber. Her look was one of sheer confusion and not knowing how to react, complete with a twitchy eye. But soon, the high spirits of the moment overcame her, and she giggled. “I suppose it’d also be a bit much for them to pay us?” she said to Kalahari, grinning.

“And today’s your lucky day!” the pegasus, trotting over to them. She looked even more familiar up close, but Kalahari still couldn’t place her. “We won the lottery just a few days ago, and we were going to split it between us, but now that you’re here, you’ll all get a piece, too!” She smiled broadly.

Amber’s jaw dropped. “Wha… buh… huh…” After a moment, she pulled her brain back together and squinted at the pegasus, her ears slightly back. “You’re kidding, right?”

The pegasus snorted. “Of course. It was too good a chance to pass up. Did you see the look on your face?”

“She’s got a point,” admitted Kalahari. “It was pretty good.”

Amber stopped squinting and let out a small chuckle herself. “All right,” she said. “I just wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Yeah,” said the pegasus. “Well, come on. Gotta get you to the facility.” She began heading towards the forest -- on foot -- before turning back over her shoulder. “Name’s Galeblazer, by the way.”

And then it clicked for Kalahari. “Did you go to Dartmare and graduate several years back?” she asked.

Galeblazer blinked. “Yeah, but… Hey, wait. You’re the zebra who was in my meteorogenics class, aren’t you? That senior.” She looked a bit closer at Kalahari. “Yeah, I remember your eyes. Can’t remember your name, though, sorry; I was never good at names.”

“Kalahari.”

“Right, Kalahari! Yeah, you gave that real long presentation on thunderstorm dynamics.” Kalahari blinked, twitched her ears, and narrowed her eyes a little, but Galeblazer didn’t seem to notice. “Weird having a non-pegasus in a meteorogenics class. I mean, it was a 101 elective, so anypony could take it, but most don’t.”

“Seriously?” asked Amber, looking between Kalahari and Galeblazer. “You two went to school together, too?”

“I took an early meteorogenics course as an elective in my last year to fill up some gaps,” said Kalahari, shrugging. “Looked interesting, so why not? And Galeblazer here was pretty much the class clown.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” said Galeblazer, not ashamed about it in the slightest. “Just wanted to keep it from being so… monotone.”

“That’s one way to put it,” muttered Kalahari.

Galeblazer shrugged and glanced up towards Phalanx, who was still talking with the stretcher carriers. She frowned. “Wonder what’s taking them so long,” she muttered. A few quick flaps brought her up the bank, with Kalahari and Amber following behind.

“-and out in the middle of frigging nowhere, too,” said Phalanx to Ida. “I mean, you seriously don’t think that’s even a little suspicious?” For their part, the stretcher ponies were taking it well enough, doing nothing more than exchanging flat glances with each other.

“W-well,” said Ida, kicking lightly at the ground, “if nothing else, it can’t hurt. We’re out here anyway, an-”

“And what?” Phalanx pushed himself up on his good legs. “I just- I can’t really see anypony being out here if they’re not after us.”

“You’re being a moron, Phalanx,” said Kalahari as lightly as one could say a line like that.

Everyone turned to the trio moving up the hill. Galeblazer plastered a stupid grin on her face and waved. “Hi, there!” she said to Phalanx. “I’m the mare freely offering you sustenance and lodging for the night!”

Phalanx didn’t pay attention to her, keeping his glare locked on Kalahari. “And why, pray tell,” he asked quietly, “am I being a moron?” It was hard to tell if it was the dangerous, “I am going to snap and bite your head off any minute now” quiet or the relatively saner, “you might be right so I’m doing my best to calm down” quiet.

Kalahari assumed the latter and plowed on. “Because there’s far better ways to abduct us than offering us help. Wait for us to go to sleep and jump us in the night, maybe. Or just pick us off one by one. Chandra was out in the woods with no one else, remember. But Galeblazer here-” She nodded toward Galeblazer, who smiled and waved again. “-just let herself be noticed.”

Phalanx opened his mouth to say something.

“And it’d be too much work,” cut in Kalahari, “to try to gain our trust if the other methods are easier.”

Phalanx closed his mouth.

“Plus,” interjected Amber, “their manes’re wrong.”

Everyone looked at Amber. There was some difference in their individual expressions, but, by and large, they were all the same: exactly what in the hay are you talking about?

Amber glanced between Chandra, Phalanx, Kalahari, and Ida. “What, you guys didn’t notice it? All of the ponies after us before had the same manestyle. Kinda shortish, but not buzzcuts, you know? And it’s the same one that the original thieves had. Didn’t I tell you that? It felt a little… I don’t know, cultish, almost.” She shrugged. “And none of these ponies have manes like that. So, call me crazy, but I don’t think these ponies and those are related.”

“I agree with Crazy,” said Ida. “These ponies don’t feel real aggressive or anything. I mean, we’ve got to trust somepony at some point.”

Phalanx tilted his head for a moment in thought. It was easy to see the change in his composure when he made his decision, a kind of light slackening. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll go through with this. And…” After a second’s balancing on his good hooves and a brief flap of his wings, he began pumping more vigorously, hovering above the ground. “…I can handle myself, thanks. I’m not that bad.” He took off into the night.

“You really do get no respect, don’t you?” said Kalahari to the stretcher carriers. I’d’ve taken them up on their offer. Especially after today.

One shrugged. “Meh. We’ve had worse.” She rolled up the stretcher and was about to take off when Galeblazer put a hoof on her shoulder and shook her head.

“Hold on a moment,” said Galeblazer, grinning a little. “I want to see this.”

“See what?” asked Ida.

“Well…” began Galeblazer. A brief pause, then she began counting down. “Five, four, three, two…”

A second later, Phalanx dropped back out of the sky and hovered just above the ground. “So where are we going?” He didn’t seem that embarrassed, or maybe he was just good at hiding it.

Galeblazer suppressed her grin. “You two take him there,” she said to the other pegasi. “I’ll take the rest on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” one of them said. They darted off into the sky, Phalanx following close behind.

“Right,” said Galeblazer, turning to the remainder. “Just follow me, and you’ll be warm in no time.” She began trotting into the forest.

Chandra promptly ran up towards her and pulled on her tail, bringing her to a halt. “Hang on a second,” she said. “You’re sure you know your way around here? Even in the dark?”

Galeblazer snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Know my…? Listen. I’ve been here off and on for years. I know this place a hay of a lot better than the back of my hoof. I could gallop through here blindfolded and not hit a branch. I can get us back in the dark.” She frowned and tapped her chin. “But you… Yeah, you girls might need some light. Whoops.”

Chandra didn’t say anything, but the tip of her horn began glowing, providing light for the group to see by. “Right, this should do it.”

“Great,” said Galeblazer. “Then follow me.” With that, the group began a slow trot into the forest.

The route Galeblazer was taking them on was a bit winding, but flat and clear, so Ida wasn’t complaining. She was moving at a bit of a slow pace to make sure they wouldn’t get lost in the dark, and every now and then she’d glance over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t losing anyone.

After a few silent minutes of silence, Chandra spoke up. “You know, you never told me why you’re out here.”

“Weather distribution,” said Galeblazer. She turned to face them, but kept walking backwards. “So, you all know where weather comes from, right?”

“Cloudsdale,” said Ida.

Galeblazer nodded. “Right. And usually, it’s the place that drops it off. You need rain, Cloudsdale drops off some rain clouds at your point in the circuit.” Behind her, Ida could see they were approaching a building, shadowed black against the dark blue sky.

“Yeah.”

“But Cloudsdale can’t be ev-” Galeblazer tripped, fell, rolled over, and kept walking like nothing had happened. “-can’t be everywhere. And what happens if you accidentally use up all your rain for the year? You can’t wait however long for Cloudsdale to come back. But you still need rain, or else your crops are gonna kick the bucket.”

The building was more visible now, lights flickering outside the front door. Although wide, it was low, only two stories tall, and very plain, like a warehouse. There weren’t a lot of windows and there was no sign or logo.

“That’s where we come in,” said Galeblazer. “We pick up the slack. We’re the touchup artists. Cloudsdale may send out the large-scale stuff, but we’re the ones who send out the smaller things. The little this and that. The variety. The spice of life. The luxuries.”

They arrived at the doors. “Welcome,” said Galeblazer, pushing them open, “to the Central Equestrian Weather Distribution Center.”

“The what?”

Everypony turned, some craning their necks, to look at Kalahari. She had a hoof over her mouth and shaking a little as she fought back the giggles.

“The Central Equestrian Weather Distribution Center,” repeated Galeblazer.

“The… hehe… the Central Center?” asked Kalahari.

“Yes,” said Galeblazer in the tone of someone who had explained this many times before. “As opposed to the Northern Center, or the Southeastern Center, or the I Didn’t Come up With That Name and I Think it’s Weird Too so Shut Up Center.” She shrugged. “That’s what it’s named, that’s what it’s been named ever since it was built, and it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

Kalahari didn’t say anything more, but she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Anyway,” said Galeblazer, “this is one of the key terrestrial facilities for weather distribution in Equestria. We get weather from Cloudsdale and hold onto it until the time is right, when we send it out. We’re not as important as Cloudsdale itself, obviously, but Cloudsdale itself can’t service the whole country. We help take some of the strain off of it by sending out more specialized, regional weather, instead of uber-generic, generalized weather.”

Considering how much Galeblazer had built it up, Ida thought the inside looked kind of plain. It was pretty much a standard-issue lobby for any number of buildings, and the colors were mostly gray and white. There weren’t even any ponies working there as a receptionist or anything.

Galeblazer noticed Ida’s look and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, we don’t get a whole lotta visitors out here, to say the least. We need to be out here to reach as many locations as we can. And it doesn’t help that the place is completely self-sufficient -- we even grow our own food -- so there really isn’t any reason for anypony to come out here. Rest of the place looks a lot like this, ‘cau-”

“Quick question,” interjected Kalahari. “Where’s the doctor’s office or wherever? I want to check in on Phalanx.”

“Down that door, follow the signs,” said Galeblazer, pointing at a side door. “It’s not a big place, you should find him easily.”

“Thanks,” said Kalahari, and trotted off. Amber looked at the floor for a moment, then followed her. Ida almost went as well, but decided Amber didn’t need her right this moment.

“Anyways,” said Galeblazer, “we don’t do a whole lot of interior decorating here, because most of our work’s outside. Don’t expect much to look at.”

“Alright. But y’all have kitchens here, right?” asked Ida. “‘Cause I don’t know why, but I’ve got a hankerin’ t’do some cookin’, if you don’t mind me helpin’.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind that. If you’ll just follow me…”

“Goodness,” Doctor Florence said once she saw Phalanx’s X-ray. “You said you got it hit by a train signal, right?”

“Yeah,” said Phalanx. Was that a good “goodness” or a bad “goodness”?

“You got lucky,” said Florence. “You got veeeery lucky. No bones actually broken, so that splint should do just fine, but you’ve got one heck of a sprain, not to mention a terrible avulsion.”

“Avulsion?” Phalanx was sure he’d heard the term in guard training, but couldn’t remember what it meant.

“Basically an abrasion turned up to eleven. But don’t worry.” Florence grinned in a sort of self-satisfied way. “You should be up and running again tomorrow. Both metaphorically and literally.”

Phalanx resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Florence ducked into a cabinet. “Healing magic’s come a long way in the past century,” she said, “and just a few years ago, they came out-” Her voice became muffled, as if she’d picked something up in her mouth. “-wiff deez!” She pulled her head out of the cabinet, a pill bottle between her teeth, and dropped it on the table next to Phalanx.

“Healing accelerants,” she said. “Take one a day, and the magic in them will stitch your ankle up within the week, both inside and out. You’ll want to avoid exertion in the meantime -- no sprinting or kicking -- but after that, it’ll be good as new. But before you ask, no, taking more than one at a time does not increase the rate of healing. You can’t OD, but more than one won’t do you any good.”

“Really?” Phalanx squinted at the bottle. “Why aren’t these more widespread, if they’re so useful?”

Florence shrugged. “Money. The magic’s new, so even a single bottle’s really expensive, like mare-o’-war expensive. We only get them because, A, we’re working for the Court, and B, we’re so isolated. If we had a few too many pegasi out because of broken wings, we’d be hard-pressed to replace them, and the results could be catastrophic. We’ve got other, more reasonable solutions, but these are just the absolute last resort.”

“And you’re just going ahead and giving me a few?”

“What you’re doing is just as important as what we’re doing. We can spare a few.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Phalanx popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. It went down easily and felt a little… tingly. Must just be the magic.

Someone knocked on the door and Kalahari poked her head in. “Knock knock. I was told I could find you here. Are you doing okay?”

“Fine. I’ve got my leg taken care of-” Phalanx showed her his bandaged leg. “-and a regimen to let it heal faster.”

“Great,” said Kalahari. She turned to Florence. “So what’s travel going to be like for him? We don’t want to stay here too long.”

“Nothing more than a jog tomorrow, and no running or kicking for another day or two after that,” said Florence. “After that, it might still be sore, but ought to be healed enough to use fully, if not constantly. Plus…” She fluffed out one of Phalanx’s wings. (Phalanx twitched and glared at her, but didn’t pull away.) “…pegasus, obviously. He can travel just fine in the air.”

Kalahari nodded. “Great. I’ll leave you to it, then.” She pulled back out of the room.

“And you can go for tonight,” said Florence. “Just remember to rest well when you can and don’t put too much stress on it.”

“Uh-huh. Thanks.” Of course he knew that. Why wouldn’t he know that? That was like the one thing anypony knew about healing. But it was probably force of habit that she said that, so Phalanx didn’t say anything as he left the room. He limped a little; the splint was taking a lot of the weight off his hoof, but not all of it, and it still throbbed.

Amber was standing outside, somehow looking a little more nervous than usual. She spoke up as soon as she saw Phalanx. “U-um, hey? Mr. Guard, um, Phalanx?”

“Yeah?”

Amber took a deep breath. “W-well, um, based on things are, um, things are going, I-I thought maybe we should, um, we should do the questioning thing here and now, just so that if I, y’know…” She swallowed. “…d-don’t make it to Canterlot, you at least have some stuff to work with.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Kalahari was just at the end of the hall, so Phalanx turned and hollered to her. “Kal! Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Kalahari stopped and looked over her shoulder. “What about?”

“Amber here was just thinking that we should go into the details now, just so that we still have information if worst comes to worst, and you’re the detective-”

Kalahari snorted. “Not like that. My work’s different than interrogations.”

Phalanx continued. “But, still, you’re the one with the most experience in this sort of thing, even if it’s not a lot. So-”

“I think that’s fine,” said Kalahari. “Even if nothing happens, it’ll be good for her to keep the event in the front of her memory.”

“You can just say that to me,” muttered Amber.

But Kalahari didn’t notice. “Just let me get something to write this down.”

A few minutes later, Phalanx, Amber, and Kalahari were set up in an empty room, Kalahari with a pen between her teeth and a sheet of paper on the table in front of her. “So,” said Phalanx, “how did this all start? If you think it might be important, don’t leave it out.”

Amber started dragging her hooves across her mane. “Um, okay, it was three nights ago. One or two in the morning, I forget. I was up because I couldn’t sleep. Mild insomniac. I was watching stars at the town hall when I noticed three ponies heading towards the Rainbow Friendship Royal Library. One of each main race. That, that looked a little suspicious, so I started following them, keeping out of sight. And when they got to the library, they broke in.”

Phalanx frowned. “Just like that?”

Amber nodded. “Yeah. The unicorn, she did something to the door with her magic and went inside. Why?”

“It might just be me, but you’d think the lock to a princess’s former castle would be a bit more secure than that.”

Amber twirled a lock of hair around her hoof. “I don’t think it’s the original lock, if that matters. When I was doing my runs to Ponyville a year or so ago, the library was undergoing some renovations and the door was missing. It was the same time that exhibition hall was added. So there’s that.”

“Yeah, that would probably matter.” Phalanx glanced at Kalahari. “You getting all this?”

Kalahari nodded, making a “continue” gesture.

“Alright,” said Amber. Her breathing was slowing down a little. “So the unicorn went inside. The other two stayed outside, so I couldn’t follow her inside. She went inside, and I couldn’t see what happened. Then there was this dull boom or thud or something and a bunch of black smoke came out. Really thick, I couldn’t see out of it. When it cleared, I followed the thieves back into town, but now there was a fourth one. A unicorn. Couldn’t tell if they were mare or stallion.”

Phalanx frowned and hmmed, but didn’t say anything.

Amber continued. “I followed them to the train station, where they jumped on a passing train that I think was there for them. The locomotive itself was number 231, for the Manehattan-Baltimare Railway, which is weird, ‘cause they don’t operate this far west. An-”

“Hang on,” said Phalanx. “What do you mean, ‘don’t operate this far west’? Don’t trains just go wherever?”

Amber gave him a strange look. “No, of course not. They go on the track their company owns.”

“Huh?”

Amber groaned and rubbed her head. “Do you know anything about trains? Locomotives, rolling stock, and rails are owned by a company. Trains operate on the track that the company owns and does upkeep on. Like, I work for Crystal Rail, which owns a good chunk of the track around the Crystal Empire. Ponyville’s pretty much the southest I go when working, because that’s the southest Crystal Rail’s track goes. Manehattan-Baltimare doesn’t own any tra-”

“But… what about passenger trains? They go all over the place, from city to city to city, without turning around or needing you to change trains.”

Phalanx noticed with some dismay that Amber was actually grinding her teeth. “Yes, because passenger trains are operated by Equestrak, which is government-owned, and the Court subsidizes a lot of rail lines in exchange for the capacity to freely operate on them.”

“Wait, passenger is government-operated but freight is private?”

Amber stared at Phalanx, eye slightly twitchy, before she smiled broadly and falsely. “Could you excuse me for a second? Thaaaaanks.” She left the room. After a moment, Phalanx could hear dull thuds from the hallway outside.

“You’re breaking the witness,” said Kalahari around the pen. “Stop breaking the witness!” Phalanx could tell she was holding back a grin.

“It’s not my fault trains don’t make a lot of sense!”

Amber walked back in. Her mane was a bit mussed up and her cap was distinctly dented. “Look,” she scowled, “just accept that the locomotive shouldn’t’ve been anywhere near Ponyville, alright?”

Was this seriously the same pony who’d been too afraid to step outside her door not six hours ago? And now she was glaring at a royal guard over trains? “Alright, fine.”

Amber scowled again and flicked her tail, then continued. “So they jumped on the train, and as it was leaving, one of the unicorns, I think it was the first one, she looked around to see if they’d been followed, and…” She swallowed. “…well, they had. She noticed me and… she didn’t say anything, but she smirked and did the…” She made the throat-slice motion. “…did that. And I, I got scared and bolted and… that’s that.”

“You didn’t happen to get a good look at any uff dem, did you?” Kalahari asked.

“Um, no, not except for the last one. She was the one Phalanx kicked out of the train.”

“I met her further up,” said Phalanx. “A bit full of herself, I thought. Tried to talk the talk, but she couldn’t walk the walk.”

Amber giggled nervously. “Well, she’s good at talking the talk, I think.” She frowned. “But aside from that, I don’t have anything else. Sorry.”

Kalahari spat the pen out. “Actually, that’s not that bad. You can’t exactly use a train without it being completely unnoticed. We can look into that when we get to Canterlot.”

“Good,” said Amber. She began running her forelegs over her mane again. “I’d really hate this all be for nothing. I mean, so would you, but for me, it, it’d feel like, I don’t know, like I’d failed somehow.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Kalahari. “If we don’t find the Elements, it’s hardly your fault.”

“I know,” mumbled Amber, “but-”

A unicorn leaned into the room. “If you’re hungry, there’s food in the cafeteria. Just FYI, but it’ll be gone in an hour, so don’t wait.” She left.

And then Phalanx realized just how hungry he was; he hadn’t had a proper meal since that morning. It gnawed lightly at him; he could ignore it, but it’d be easier to just eat. “I’m going to eat,” he said. He started following the signs to the cafeteria, Amber and Kalahari close behind. Hopefully, the food would be better than just generic slop. Sometimes, back in the Canterlot mess hall, the cooks could get lazy, just throw everything together, and pronounce it “edible”. To be fair, it was edible, but not much else.

Still, anything would be better than field rations or raw grass. Those were insults to perfectly good slop.

Considering how isolated the place was, the food was excellent, Chandra thought. She wolfed it down and was picking up seconds before anyone else had finished theirs.

“Slow down, mare,” Galeblazer said. “We don’t want you eating us out of fireplace and facility.”

“Wha’? Ih’s good,” said Chandra around a large bite of sandwich. She swallowed. “And I like to eat.” She planted her face in her plate again.

“Obviously.”

Once she had an open mouth again, Chandra asked, “So, what does ‘butterflying’ mean? You mentioned that out in the forest.”

“Oh, it’s just a reference to that old phrase,” said Galeblazer, waving a hoof. “You know, a butterfly flapping its wings can make a tornado halfway around the world. Cloudsdale moves, but we have to do all our stuff from here. I flap my wings, it makes wind that sends clouds to wherever.” She shrugged. “Doing it all can get complicated. You’ve got to take into account other pegasi doing the same, the effects of the other Weather Distribution Centers, th-”

Phalanx leaned in. “I hate to intrude, but what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be tonight? I don’t want to kick anypony out of their beds.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Galeblazer. “We’ve always got at least a dozen empty beds, just in case. You’ll be fine. But where’re you going tomorrow? You got a route?”

“Ponyville,” said Phalanx. “Or Canterlot, whichever’s closer. I was going to look at a map, bu-”

“I can help!” Galeblazer said brightly. “Ponyville’s closer, and I know the way there. I can get you there. It’ll take a while, though, like more than a day.”

Chandra blinked. “That long?”

“Oh, yeah.” Galeblazer nodded. “Out here’s kind of the middle of nowhere. There really isn’t a quicker way, unless you want to go back to the tracks and jump on a train ha ha yeah right. But I also know a place we can stay for the night. It’s kinda close to Ponyville and we don’t even need to pack anything extra. It’s perfect.”

“And the ponies here will be fine with you just up and leaving?” asked Phalanx. “I mean, if you can, I’d be grateful for the help, but this doesn’t seem like a job you can leave easily.”

Galeblazer grinned. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to rotate out and take a break every ten months to prevent burnout, and my last one ended right after Nightmare Night. But I’ve been doing this for a while, and I know I don’t get burnout. I can just keep going and going and going and going and going a-”

Phalanx glared at her in a way only Royal Guards could. That glare that you’d practically have to be a statue to not react to. That glare that said he didn’t have time for any more crap. That fierce glare that bespoke a contempt of unreachable depths of the recipient of the glare at the moment. “I get it,” he growled.

“-nd going and going and going and going and going a-”

“I get it.”

“-nd going and going and going a-”

Phalanx flicked his custard into her face.

“-nd the point is, we’re overstaffed, actually,” said Galeblazer, once she’d licked off the last bits of custard. “So they actually will be fine with me just up and leaving.”

“Fine.” Phalanx glared briefly at her one last time, then went back to his own meal.

“That escalated quickly,” said Galeblazer, licking a little custard from one of her hooves. “He could stand to lighten up a bit. It’s a joke. It’s not even that bad of one.”

Chandra shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Maybe he’s just concerned you’re not taking this seriously.”

Galeblazer rolled her eyes. “Come on. All work and no play makes Galeblazer a dull filly. And before you say anything about all play and no work, I do plenty of work. But just because I joke about something doesn’t mean I’m not taking it seriously.”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe he’s just stressed.”

“Better hope he doesn’t stay that way.”