Amber Waves couldn’t sleep.

It was much better than last night, at least. She’d managed to actually get some sleep tonight, and felt a lot better, but at around 5 or 6 in the morning, she all of a sudden woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. But oh well. At least she didn’t feel like she’d just up and faint without any warning.

Getting out of bed had been the hard part. Not because she was tired, but because it felt like the bed resisted all attempts for her to stand up. It was one of those massively oversized things with more mattress than bed, even though the bed itself was plenty big already. Amber tried to sit up, and the feathers kept shifting in the mattress beneath her, dropping her down and smooshing other parts up. It took a real effort for her to fully extricate herself out of the pile, but she eventually tumbled to the floor.

When she took to walking around out of habit, it was slightly disorienting. Not because of the unfamiliar floor layout (not completely, anyway), but because of the darkness. It was inside, so there was no moonlight or starlight, and none of the torches were lit and none of the electric lights were working. Amber assumed they’d just turned off the electricity in the off season to save money. There were some emergency lights pulsing softly on the ceiling, probably powered by magic, but it was still very dark, and it took a while for Amber’s eyes to adjust. At least here, the maps were good and there were plenty of them. At one point, she tried to get lost, then looked at a map and found her way back to her room in only a few minutes.

So why was she up? Amber wasn’t sure. She was feeling a lot better about things than she had been last night — she’d be safe in Canterlot by this evening — so it couldn’t be that. Was she nervous? Sure. Who wouldn’t be? But there was nervous, and then there was nervous. She was the former. She wasn’t sitting in her bed in a cold sweat, jumping at every shadow. It wasn’t even the bed; that was very comfortable.

Of course, it might just be her insomnia naturally acting up again. But that was boring.

When the sun was just beginning to poke above the horizon, she was hanging out in the foyer, looking up at the tapestries hanging there. It was strange; there was one throne in Canterlot, where Celestia and Luna changed off every dawn and dusk, but there were two here, one with a golden sun tapestry above it and the other with a midnight blue one. Did it mean something? Were the Princesses trying to send a message back then that both of them were involved in running the country? Or did they just forget to remodel the one in Canterlot once Luna came back? Had the one in Canterlot even been built when Luna became Nightmare Moon?

Amber frowned, trying to recall her history. But thanks to Sombra’s involvement and the Crystal Empire’s temporary absence, history had always been a bit screwy for Crystal Ponies. Their past century covered Equestria’s past millennium, and then some. Her grandma had always gone on about how it was a struggle to relearn the new years once the Empire’s curse was lifted.

And it wasn’t just like the end of a calendar year, where you just need to remember to add one to the previous year, she’d said. We were gone an irregular number of years — one thousand and thirty-seven, if I remember it correctly — and it wasn’t even the same month. We left near the end of fall and came back midsummer. Your mother, she was just a filly, she tried to convince me to have another birthday party only a few months after her last one, since it technically was her birthday again, but I put my hoof down.

Anyway, Amber did her best to remember her history lessons, but she didn’t come up with anything tangible. She couldn’t even recall whether Canterlot had been founded when Celestia and Luna fought.

She jumped at the sound of somepony’s hooves clip-clopping across the stone. She whirled around; Phalanx was coming out of a side hallway. When he saw Amber, he jumped, too. “Oh, um, hey,” he said. He gave her a small wave. “What’re you doing up?”

Amber frowned. Something wasn’t right here. She couldn’t put her hooftip on it, but something was up. “Insomnia. Just can’t sleep.”

“Heh. Right. Yeah.” Phalanx coughed.

Yeah, something was up. Amber didn’t know Phalanx all that well, but she knew him well enough to know that he didn’t get sheepish like this. Right? He was a Royal Guard, he was straight and to-the-point. “So what’s your excuse?” she asked.

Phalanx twitched in a way guards didn’t twitch. “Um, exercise,” he said. “Wanted to get a few laps around the place in before the sun rose.”

That seemed plausible enough. But what had set her off in the first place? He’d barely even said anything when alarms started going off in her head. She’d barely seen him. “And did you get them in?”

Phalanx shrugged. “Not as much as I’d like, but enough.” He yawned. Amber couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. “Got up too early. Thinking of getting a little more sleep in. Maybe you should try it, too.”

“Won’t work. It’s insomnia, I can’t sleep even if I’m tired.”

“Maybe you can just get some rest. Like a power nap. Come on, let’s get back to bed.”

Phalanx wasn’t normally this pushy, right? And besides, he seemed like the kind of stallion who’d be more like, You’re taking a power nap. No ifs, ands, or buts. And he was looking kind of nervous for some reason; Phalanx also didn’t seem like the stallion who got nervous over this sort of thing. But Amber wasn’t in the feeling to argue, so she just said, “Alright.”

The sun was up a little bit more as they headed through the hall towards the bedrooms, just enough to make Amber squint against the brightness. “You know,” she said, “maybe we just ought to wake up everypony else. Get going early, you know?”

Phalanx gulped. That definitely wasn’t like him. “Um, h-how come?”

Amber tilted her head as she stared at him. “Because I don’t want to spend any longer out here next to the Everfree than necessary? And I want to get to Canterlot and safety as soon as possible?”

“W-we’ll get there in time. We don’t need t-to rush it. Come on, let’s get to bed.”

Seriously, what was with him? She would’ve thought that he’d support the idea of keeping moving. And he didn’t stammer like that. As Amber searched for a response, they walked in silence, the only sound being their regular hoofsteps echoing through th-

Their regular hoofsteps. Both hers and his.

It finally hit her. She looked down at Phalanx’s legs, then up at him.

He wasn’t just nervous now; he was practically sweating. “What?”

“Where’s your splint?”

“Amber?”

It was Phalanx’s voice, but it was coming from behind her. She whipped her head around to see another Phalanx standing on the opposite end of the hall. This one did have a splint.

“Crap,” mumbled the first Phalanx.

She began looking back and forth between the two Phalanxes. If not for the splint, they’d be exactly alike, and she’d never be able to tell the difference between the two. But that could only mean-

The second Phalanx’s eyes went wide, and he spread his wings. “Changeling!” he bellowed. He leapt forward, fury in his eyes.

The first Phalanx began scrabbling backward, his forelegs in front of his face, talking fast and loud. “Whoa, whoa, hey, we can-!”

Any further debate was cut short by the second Phalanx delivering the first one a wing-powered flying hoof to the face. It was a blunt, terse argument, but it got the point across. The two of them rolled into the foyer. Something green flashed. Amber followed them; she didn’t know what she could do, but she had to do something.

When she reached them, she was presented with the slightly surreal sight of Phalanx holding herself in a headlock. Her copy was gasping, trying to say something as she wrestled. “Hey!” Amber 2 yelled in an angry tone of voice Amber was sure she’d never use in that situation. “You’ve got the wrong pony! You’re not supposed to tackle me, you-”

“No,” snapped Phalanx. “It’s her I’m not supposed to tackle.” He wrestled Amber 2’s face to look right at Amber.

Amber 2’s expression fell once she saw Amber. Amber waved and tried to flash a smug grin, but was too nervous to get out anything other than something resembling a confused grimace.

“Fudge,” Amber 2 said flatly.

Phalanx could do a better smug smirk than Amber could ever hope to. “Yyyyyep,” he said, and smashed Amber 2’s face into the ground.

The disguise fell away into wisps of greenish fog. The changeling below, out cold, was one of the creepiest things Amber had seen. It (He? She? Amber couldn’t tell.) was a little smaller than the average pony, and had the same general shape as one, but that was where the similarities ended.

It was the holes that well and truly did it for Amber. They were just… holes, poking right through the changeling’s legs. Amber knew enough about biology to know what they were piercing in a pony, and it made her shudder to think of what kind of damage would be done if those holes were on her legs. And there were so many of them; how could those legs still support the changeling’s weight? How did they bend without breaking? It was wrong, plain and simple.

Not that any other part of the changeling’s body was much better. It was like somepony had taken every single thing that could make Amber cringe a little and slapped it on there somewhere. Fangs? Uh-huh. Big, long ones, half as long as the average unicorn horn. And sharp, from the looks of them, but Amber wasn’t about to poke them and see. It didn’t have a warm fuzzy coat, but a cold smooth carapace that was quite scrawny and far too flexible for its own good. It mane, its tail, even its ears, they were these irregular things that looked like the frills on lizards. And the eyes. There was no white, no pupil. Just a blank, matte blue. (Although it was better than a bug’s compound eyes blown up to pony size, Amber had to admit.) At least its iridescent wings were somewhat pretty, but Amber couldn’t imagine the horrific buzzing they would make when it flew.

Phalanx, panting, kicked the changeling again. “You alright?” he asked Amber.

“Um, y-yeah,” Amber said, tentatively nodding. “It didn’t, um, try anything on me. Just came up to me looking like you and I thought it was you and I started talking to it and it talked back and it looked confused but it never actually went and-”

There was a yawn, and Ida walked out of the bedroom hallway, rubbing her eyes. “Mornin’,” she mumbled. “I heard somethin’ fierce out here, and- and… and why’s there a changelin’ on the floor there?”

“Tried to get to Amber by being me,” said Phalanx. “But I came in and ruined that for it.”

“Huh. What do you think it’s doin’ out here?”

“Little picture? Probably food.” With an expression of great disgust on his face, Phalanx reached out a hoof and nudged the changeling’s head over to get a better look at it. “I’ve heard these things can get little bits and pieces of emotion from sleeping ponies. Not as much as pretending to be a victim’s loved one, but it’s something. Big picture? Don’t know. Maybe there isn’t a big picture for it and it’s just looking at us as a meal for today.”

Ida crept forward, staring at the changeling. Where Phalanx looked like he was holding down bile, Ida looked like she’d just found something fascinatingly grotesque. “Do you think there’s more of them out there? Like maybe this one’s just some advance scout or somethin’?” She started poking the changeling in the stomach.

“I don’t know. Did you see anything else, Amber? Or hear anything?”

Thanks to her focus on the changeling, it took Amber a few seconds to register that Phalanx was talking to her again. “I, I don’t think so,” she said. “Just this one.”

Phalanx frowned and nudged at the changeling again. “Hmm.”

Ida leaned in close to it, even sniffing. She straightened up. “I’m gonna look outside for a bit, just to be sure there ain’t any out there that I can see. Amber, you know Dad’s name, right?”

“Yeah,” said Amber, nodding, “it’s Al-”

Ida put a hoof to Amber’s mouth, silencing her. “Don’t just go out and say it! They might be listenin’. When I come back, if it’s really me, I’ll whisper it to you. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

A small gust of wind blew in as Ida opened the front door and stepped outside, but the door was too heavy and the breeze too light to blow it shut. It was a cold, biting wind, though, and the changeling twitched as it felt it. It was a full-body twitch, almost a spasm, with all legs moving and wings and eyelids fluttering, but it didn’t get up.

Amber jumped a little and scooted backwards. “Is it… dead?” Wait, if it’s moving, how can it be dead?

“Hardly,” Phalanx snorted. “They’re persistent little buggers. Out cold, sure, but nowhere near dead. And I don’t think it’s getting up anytime soon.”

“So what do we do with it?” The body didn’t move any more, and Amber worked up the courage to get a bit closer to it. Up close, if you focused on just the face, it was surprising how ponylike it looked. Disregarding the fangs, anyway. If you imagined the exoskeleton coated with fur, it-

“If it were up to me? Kill it,” said Phalanx.

Amber jumped again. “W-what, just like that? Phalanx, it’s-”

“-a member of a species,” Phalanx said angrily, “that’s been a constant threat to Equestria since the country’s inception. There’ve been plenty of small-scale incursions and infiltrations.”

“Well, y-yeah, but-”

“And then there’s that whole royal wedding thing seventy years ago. They nearly killed Celestia. Celestia. And have you seen the ultimate fate of their victims?”

“N-no, I-”

“Husks. They look fine, but they’re braindead. All their emotions and thoughts are just gone.”

Amber cringed. Yeesh.

“Yeah,” Phalanx said. “We should kill it.”

“But…” Amber looked back at the changeling. It was surprisingly thin. “Look at it. It’s probably starving.” What does starving on emotions even feel like? “Yeah, taking emotions is bad, but you can’t fault a starving pony for stealing an apple, can you?”

Phalanx blinked. “Well, no, but… this is different.”

“How?

“What’s to say it wouldn’t just go and take all our emotions? A starving pony would only take one or two apples, but this thing wouldn’t have that restraint.”

“Do you really think so? That they’re just animals?”

“Well, they are.” Phalanx groaned. “Look, it’s almost dawn. If you really feel that strongly about it, we’ll take it to a vote when everypony else wakes up. I mean…” He kicked at the changeling. “…it’s not like this thing’s going anywhere.”

The changeling’s eyes snapped open and it jumped to its feet. Before Phalanx could react, it kicked him in the chest, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Psych!” it yelled. Its wings began buzzing and it dashed for the door.

Phalanx flared his wings to slow his slide. “Ida!” he yelled. “It’s get-”

The changeling was half-out the door when it slammed shut with a deafening boom, trapping one of its wings inside. Half a second later, there came a series of dull thuds. The door opened slightly, the wing was pulled back, and Ida stuck her head inside, grinning broadly. “Got the sucker,” she said.

She pushed open the door a bit more and dragged the unconscious changeling back inside; one wing was crumpled from getting smashed in by the door. “I was just comin’ back when you yelled. Heard a commotion, though ‘that ain’t good’, slammed the door, beat the stuffin’ out of it. Oh, and…” Ida leaned in close to Amber and whispered, “Albemarle.”

“She’s good,” Amber said to Phalanx.

“There ain’t any more outside, least not as far as I could see. Think this one’s alone.”

“We can only hope,” said Phalanx.

Chandra loped out of the bedroom hallway, looking a bit more awake than Ida, but still a little sleepy. “Only hope what?” she asked. “That you can all be quis that a changeling?” Chandra zipped up next to its body and was staring at it with an unusual intensity. “Ooo, it is. I’ve always wanted to meet one!”

“Meet one,” Phalanx said flatly. “Really.”

“Yeah! Their magic’s supposed to work on a completely different wavelength or whatever from unicorns,” said Chandra, “except for Chrysalis’s-” She stopped herself and frowned. “-is that how you make the possessive? Whatever. Except for that of Chrysalis, but she’s hardly a normal changeling any more than Celestia is a normal pony, and there’s like no communication between changelings and ponies anyway-”

“It’s an emotion-eating monster!” yelled Phalanx. “And you want to talk to it?”

Chandra huffed. “If you keep saying it’s a monster and we shouldn’t talk to it, then we’ll never talk to it and find out if it isn’t a monster. Self-fulfilling prophecy much?” She carefully turned the changeling’s body over and winced. “Oh, wow, that wing does not look good.”

“It was tryin’ to escape, so I slammed the door on it,” said Ida. “Wing got caught, and it was movin’ real fast, so it whiplashed around and flopped around a bit.”

“I think it was a bit more than a bit. You might’ve broken the joint.”

Ida shrugged. “Well, at least it ain’t eatin’ me.”

“Hnng. We should probably do something about this,” muttered Chandra. “It might not be too bad.”

“I can help,” said Amber. “Whatever you need.”

“Whoa, hey,” said Phalanx, stepping between Amber and the changeling, “no. We are not fixing that thing’s wing. Especially not you. It probably tried to eat your emotions just now, when you met it.”

“So, what, you’re just going to leave it here with a broken wing?”

“If I can’t kill it, yes. Exactly what do you think I’ve been saying this whole time?”

“Now that’s just cruel.”

“Like it deserves better.”

Chandra looked up at Phalanx. “Are you seriously listening to yourself?” she asked. Her voice was surprisingly bitter. “You want to kill this changeling off or leave it to suffer just because of what other changelings have done?”

“Granny AJ had personal experience with them,” said Ida, “and she didn’t like them much. Even aside from that, I ain’t heard any stories about a nice changelin’. True ones, anyway.”

“Of course not. Because ponies like you and him always assume the worst and don’t give them the chance to be nice.”

“They have plenty of chances to be nice!” said Phalanx. “They could just walk up to someone while looking like a changeling and lay it all out instead of living a lie, but they don’t. Deception’s in their blood, an-”

Amber coughed loudly. “Um, excuse me, but does all that really matter right now? C-can’t we just fix the wing and discuss pony-changeling relationships later?”

Phalanx glared at Amber, but when he talked again, he said, “Okay, you know what? Fine. Just go ahead and fix its stupid wing. But I still want to kill it, so I don’t see what good it’ll do you.” He fired off one last dagger-shooting look at the changeling, then stalked a few paces back.

“Alright,” said Chandra, clapping her forehooves together and rubbing them. “Then let’s do it. You still up for helping, Amber?”

“Yeah,” said Amber, nodding vigorously.

“You know anything about changeling and/or pegasus anatomy?”

The nods slowly died down. “…No.”

“Then I need you to talk to it while I take a look at the damage. Just keep it occupied.” Chandra turned her gaze to the still-limp changeling. “Assuming it’s awake.”

“Um, okay.” Amber lightly nudged the changeling. “Hey. You awake?”

Its wings buzzed, but that was it.

“I’m gonna just straighten your wing out a little,” said Amber, “with the help of my friend here. I, um, I don’t want you waking up and sinking those fangs into my neck, okay?” Can you even hear me? Maybe not. But it can’t hurt.

The changeling cracked open an eye and stared at Amber. She quailed a little at the matte blue, but stood her ground. The eye was shiny enough that she could see her reflection in it. Behind her, Chandra didn’t look too frightened.

The changeling snorted and turned over. It spread its wings out; even with no knowledge of changeling and/or pegasus anatomy, Amber could tell that the bent one was hanging awkwardly.

“Give me a minute,” said Chandra. She trotted closer to the injured wing. “Keep talking to her, will you? Take her mind off this.”

Amber swallowed. Easier said than done. “S-so, um,” she began, then stopped dead in her tracks. How am I supposed to make small talk with a changeling, of all things? Start from the beginning, I guess. “What’s your name?”

The changeling looked at Amber, head tilted. Its expressions were incredibly ponylike, almost disturbing so; it was clearly a “huh?” expression. Then it sighed, rolled its eyes (maybe, it was hard to tell), and muttered, “Cocoon.”

“Cocoon?”

Yes, changelings were quite expressive; now it had on a “no duh” look. “Yes. Cocoon. Didn’t your hear me?” Its voice — her voice, it was definitely a female voice — was surprisingly clear, given the fangs and… well, pretty much every stereotype Amber had ever heard about changelings. Far from being raspy, spitting, or lispy, her voice was smooth, flowing, and maybe a little sibilant. And underneath it all, there was some strange accent Amber couldn’t place; it was hard to even say how Cocoon’s voice was accented, but it definitely wasn’t the standard Equestrian accent.

“I, um, was just being sure,” mumbled Amber. “I’m Amber, by the way. Amber Waves.”

Chandra spoke up. “Well, the good news is the wing isn’t broken. Just needed a little smoothing. The bad news is it’s dislocated. I’ll need to push it back into place, so give me a second for this to get ready, alright?”

Cocoon glanced over her shoulder and glared at Chandra, but said nothing.

Need to keep talking. “What’re you doing out here?” asked Amber. “You with anyone?” She knew those questions would probably sound kind of invasive, so she tried to keep her voice as friendly as she could. She didn’t know how well she succeeded.

Cocoon turned her glare to the ground. “‘M alone,” she muttered. “And I’m hungry, okay? I need emotions to live and you’ve got emotions. You’re the only things who’ve got emotions for miles. I’m hungry.”

She looked up at Phalanx. “And only stupid drones with zero impulse control leave their prey as husks. If you wait a while after draining some love or any other emotion, it’ll come back and you can get some more and do it all again and leave nobody the wiser. Ponies don’t chop down apple trees every harvest, do they?”

Phalanx glared at her.

Cocoon snorted. “Pfft. Ponies. Always think you ca-”

Chandra chose that moment to push Cocoon’s wing back into place. Cocoon transitioned mid-syllable from only-slightly-accented Equestrian to an earsplitting shriek of hisses, spits, buzzes, and even chirrups that resembled static more than language.

“She’s good,” Chandra yelled over the din. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Cocoon’s extended litany of probable obscenity slowly died down from deafening noise to barely-audible noise. Breathing through clenched teeth (those fangs looked reeeaaally sharp right about now), she snarled at Chandra. “What in the-” She said something untranscribable. “-did you do that for? You could’ve warned me, you little-” And again.

Phalanx was about to step up to her, but Chandra was already replying. “If I’d warned you, you would’ve tensed up,” she said calmly. “And then it would’ve hurt even more.”

“And, you know,” Phalanx growled, “maybe you shouldn’t insult the species of the pony trying to heal you at that exact moment.”

Cocoon’s mouth worked for a moment without saying anything, then she very slowly closed it and looked away from Phalanx, glaring at some random bit of mortar in the wall.

After a solid ten seconds of silence, Amber coughed. “S-so, um, now what?”

“Kill it,” said Phalanx again.

“We just spent a minute fixing her wing!” said Amber. “Do you reall-”

“I only let you fix its wing,” snapped Phalanx, “because you wouldn’t shut up about it. It’s a danger to Equestria, and we should kill it.”

“It’s just one changeling! Maybe a swarm is a danger, but not one!”

“I resent that,” muttered Cocoon.

“Which part?” said Phalanx. “A swarm being a danger or you not being one?”

Cocoon smirked. “What do you think?”

“You’re not helping your case, you know,” said Chandra.

“Oh, hush. If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well have some fun with it.”

“Look at her, she’s joking!” said Amber. “Monsters don’t have a sense of humor. She’s not a monster, just different.”

“Different can be kind of important. That’s like sa-”

Ida cleared her throat. “Um, weren’t y’all gonna put it to a vote or somethin’?”

“I vote I stay alive,” said Cocoon.

“You’re the one we’re voting on,” said Amber. “Your vote can’t really count. You’re, um, kinda biased.”

Cocoon cocked her head at Amber. “Do you want to keep me alive or not?”

“KALAHARI!” bellowed Phalanx. “GALEBLAZER! Get in here! We’ve got something we need to talk about!”

Galeblazer slid into the room from the hallway, wide awake and grinning like a loon. “About time. At that rate, I could script, edit, cast, direct, and receive awards for two or three plays before you got anything done.”

Kalahari stalked into the room, ears back and head low. “You guys really need to keep it down,” she muttered. “I could hear you all the way through…” She stopped when she noticed Cocoon.

“And they’d be the good awards, too, like Best Actor and Best Orchestration and-”

Kalahari nudged Galeblazer. “Um, aren’t you a little surprised to see a changeling on the floor there?”

Galeblazer looked at Cocoon, cocked her head, then said, “Nah, not really. We see them plenty of times out by the Distribution Center. Drive them off. Don’t kill her, that’s messy. And mean.”

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t kill it?” Phalanx asked.

“Right.”

“Fine.” Phalanx turned to Kalahari. “And what about you? Kill it or let it go?”

Kalahari backed up a pace and coughed nervously. “Well, um, killing it seems kind of… extreme,” she muttered. “I mean, has it really done anything yet? Everypony here looks fine.”

“Not here, but-”

“Then we shouldn’t kill it!” said Kalahari. “It hasn’t done anything we’ve seen! We can’t just execute it because of something we think it did!”

“Fine.” Phalanx turned to Ida. “And y-”

Chandra cleared her throat. “Phalanx.”

“-ou. What do you th-”

“Phalanx.”

“-ink we shou-”

“Phalanx!”

“What?” yelled Phalanx, whirling on Chandra.

“We have a majority. We’re letting it go.”

Phalanx stopped, breathing heavily. He looked off into the distance, thinking. “Right,” he mumbled eventually. “You guys have four, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Phalanx glared at Chandra for a moment, then said to Cocoon, “Fine. You, just- just get out of here, you son of a gelding.”

Cocoon’s wings began buzzing. “I’m a daughter,” she said, then she whisked out the door and was gone.

The entry hall was left in dead silence. No one seemed to want to say anything, do anything, or even look at one another. Phalanx’s glare was boring a hole in a wall. Ida kept glancing between the above-throne tapestries and the door. Chandra was staring at the door, blinking a lot. Kalahari kept moving her head around, like she wasn’t sure what to look at. Galeblazer was examining a stained-glass window, utterly unperturbed. And Amber was incredibly interested in a series of cracks on one of the tiles in the floor.

Eventually, Phalanx stood up and stomped over to the bedroom hallway. “All of you, get your stuff together. We’re leaving.”

Of course, we just had to let it go.

Phalanx was still fuming about the changeling as they walked through the Everfree. Whether in a swarm or just one, changelings were dangerous. But no one else here had seen that, had they? They’d only heard stories. They’d never witnessed the effect of somepony just being sucked dry. Or even just the implications of a changeling posing as a loved one. They wouldn’t get how invasive it was. And all the while he was thinking about this, his anger kept growing.

Luckily, the Everfree was filled with dangerous creatures, so whenever one attacked, Phalanx took his frustrations out on it. The results were impressive; this was perhaps the first time he’d heard of anypony dropkicking a chimera through a tree, let alone two of them.

As everypony else moved on, Galeblazer looked at the chimera wedged in the top of the tree, trying to unwrap itself from around the branches. “Call me crazy, but I think you might be a tad upset. What’s up?” she asked.

Phalanx flicked his tail. “What do you think? We let a changeling go.” He began semi-limping after the others.

“You seem to be taking this rather personally, Mr. Grouch,” said Galeblazer, lightly nudging him in the ribs as they walked. “Come on, it’s just one.”

“And it’s one too many. Yeah, one changeling won’t cause much trouble on a national level, but on a personal one… Have you ever seen that happen?”

“No.”

“I have. Way back, and I mean way back, when I was still fairly green. I’d been part of a task force meant to root out any possible changelings from Whinnychester. Small town in the northeast. The townsfolk had grumbled a bit, but they tolerated it for the most part; it was pretty isolated, so they’d had changeling problems before. The main exception-” Phalanx kicked a rock away. “-was the mayor. A few nights in, she gave us a particularly vindictive tongue-lashing while her husband stood by and watched. Our methods were necessary, but she kept saying-” He added a little whine to his voice. “-they were too invasive. And the whole time, her husband was supporting her and adding in his own two bits.” He took a deep breath.

Galeblazer picked up on it. “But…”

“But then the colonel came in, followed by the actual husband. He was half-delirious, covered in gelatinous chunks of changeling slime, and claimed to be missing a week. One quick test later, we were down one pony and up one changeling.”

“Oh, snap.”

Phalanx snorted. “That’s one way to put it. The mayor hadn’t opposed us after that.”

He kicked at another rock. “There’d only been one other changeling there, but it’s the kind of thing that’s enough to get you nervous. What if we’d missed one? Or two? Or more? We just couldn’t be sure, especially if the changelings were skilled at imitation or deflecting suspicion.”

“Ah. Yeah, yeah, I can totally see that,” said Galeblazer, nodding. “But really, you need lighten up a little. Just a bit, you know? You’re all-” She put on a Serious Face. “-grr, grr, we should kill it, and you’re just not listening to anypony else.”

Phalanx tilted his head at Galeblazer. “You’re saying I’m wrong?”

“No. Well, you are wrong, but that’s not what I’m getting at. You didn’t exactly… act the nicest back there. Kinda bloodthirsty, you know?” Galeblazer grinned. “Psychotic.”

“But-” Phalanx cut himself off. Yeesh, was that ever true. Just because the changeling deserved death didn’t mean he had to constantly spout that fact off. Normal ponies didn’t like to be reminded of the fact that he was trained to kill, and, yeah, constantly talking about that would make him come off as a bit psychotic. He wasn’t, but it wouldn’t look that way.

“Okay, yeah,” he said. “But…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on. It’s a changeling. They suck the life out of ponies.”

“Only emotions.”

“Do it enough and the result’s the same.”

“Yeah. And if you drink enough water at once, you’ll die.”

Phalanx flicked his tail in annoyance. “There’s a difference, you know.”

Galeblazer made an exaggerated “thinking” face as she looked up at the sky, then said, “Nah, not really. See, they’re both things you need to live, and a small imbalance is fine, but a large imbalance is bad. You’re overreacting a smidge.”

“A smidge.”

“Yeah.”

“A smidge?” hissed Phalanx. “Okay, maybe a small imbalance in emotions is fine. But it’s how they get those emotions that makes changelings dangerous. You did hear the story I told you just a minute ago, right? Throw changelings into the equation, and you can’t be sure who you’re talking to. They might be who you think they are, or they might be a changeling lying through their teeth to try and feed on you. That’s not the sort of thing you just forget about and let lie.”

“Maybe not. I’ll give you that. But getting back to our changeling: how were you gonna kill her?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t have a weapon or anything. How were gonna kill her? Crush her head? Snap her spine? You could’ve just threatened her and let her go.”

Phalanx fumed. But Galeblazer had a point. He didn’t have anything to make any killings clean. Anything he could’ve done would’ve just served to make him look even more psychotic. All he really did was make himself look like a fool in front of everypony else. “Fine,” he admitted eventually. “It’s probably for the best we didn’t kill it.”

“There,” said Galeblazer, grinning. “Aren’t you glad we talked about what was bugging you?”

Phalanx snorted. “Yeah, sure, I…” His voice trailed off. Wait. Bugging- “That was terrible!”

“Of course! It’s a pun, that’s how you know it’s great!”

They got to Ponyville without further incident, but Amber still hid under the seats of their train until they left. They weren’t home free yet.

No one talked much on the ride back to Canterlot; everyone was still feeling a bit awkward over Cocoon and seemed utterly determined to stare out their windows as much as possible. Amber considered trying to engage someone in conversation, but she just didn’t feel up to it.

Still, with every bump of the rails, Amber’s apprehension bled away a little bit more. She was going to be safe. In the middle of Canterlot, surrounded by guards protecting her? It’d be hard for anypony to get to her, even if they had an intimate knowledge of the castle. By the time they reached Canterlot and the train hissed into the station, Amber was more relaxed than she’d been in days. This was going to be alright.

Kalahari hiked up her bags on her back. “If any of you want to maybe meet Celestia, you might as well come with me and Phalanx and Amber. Once we’re done questioning her, we’ll try to get an audience with Celestia and see if we can find a place for Amber to stay.”

Everyone did, so soon Phalanx and Kalahari were leading the group through Canterlot. Amber was at the end, not because she was nervous, but because she kept looking around and falling back. She’d never been to Canterlot before, and it had this style, this… grandeur that couldn’t be captured in pictures. It was hard to say what; maybe it was the architecture of the city, maybe it was the look of the populace, but there was this certain something in the air that made her want to stop and look. And when they got to Canterlot Castle… wow. The Crystal Palace was pretty and all, but it was kinda monochromatic and didn’t have a whole lot of variety. But here, the castle looked like something straight out of a storybook. It had turrets, sweeping walls, big windows, courtyards, everything. It was almost a shame she was here only because she wanted to be protected.

After a brief talk with Phalanx, the guards at the gate waved them through the gate. The moment they were inside the walls, Amber’s relief went up another notch, if that was possible. Surrounded by walls, surrounded by guards. What more protection could you ask for?

As the group headed through the halls, Ida dropped back a few steps and walked alongside Amber. “You’re lookin’ a lot better,” she observed.

“Well, yeah,” said Amber. She giggled; not the nervous giggle of the past few days, but one of happiness and relief. “It’s, we got here. I’m going to be safe. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ve been frightened for my life ever since Nightmare Night, and now…” Amber sighed. “It’s such a huge weight off my back, I can’t even begin to describe it. I-”

“Excuse me?”

Amber jumped about a foot in the air at Celestia’s voice; for her size, she moved awfully quietly. The group quickly turned around and made bows of varying depth, all of them muttering, “Your Highness.”

Celestia looked over them. “This is an… interesting group,” she said. “Are you looking for something in particular?” A scribe was standing at her side and slightly behind her, scribbling something down.

Kalahari pushed her way to the front. “Actually, Your Highness, you were one of the ponies we were looking for. This-” She gestured to Amber, who grinned nervously and waved. “-is the only witness to the theft of the Elements of Harmony. We have evidence that the thieves are trying to kill her, and…” She took a deep breath. “…and, given the importance of the case, she was hoping you could provide some kind of protection against them. A secure place to stay, a guard, something like that.”

Celestia frowned. “You know for a fact that they’re trying to kill her?”

“Your Highness,” Phalanx said, stepping forward, “we were attacked twice on the way here. And believe me, if she’s not secured, they won’t stop there. We need to get her safe, and we need to find out what she knows.”

“Then I think I can find something,” said Celestia. “If you have anywhere to stay until evening-”

“I’ve got room at my place,” Chandra spoke up. “She can stay there.”

“Perfect,” said Celestia with a nod. “I’ll see what I can find and call you this evening.”

“And the questioning?” Kalahari asked. “I told Dupinto — he’s my boss — I told him where I was going, but that was days ago, and he’ll want to know I’m back so he can get to work.”

“He’s-” Celestia coughed. “He’s a bit busy at the moment. I’ll make sure he knows you’re back and he can set up the questioning.”

Kalahari bowed again. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Celestia lightly brushed past them, the scribe following closely in her wake.

Amber almost melted into a puddle on the floor. This was set. This was all set. She was going to be okay. All she had to do now was wait.

“Keep your legs beneath you, hayseed,” muttered Ida, poking her in the ribs.

There were a few seconds of silence before Chandra cleared her throat. “Hey. You want to do lunch at my place?”

They hadn’t even gotten inside Chandra’s house and Phalanx was going after the newspapers.

“You’re really that interested in them?” Kalahari asked with an eye on the pile of papers on Phalanx’s back, between his wings.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to stay up-to-date,” said Phalanx. “I don’t know what’s been going on anywhere since I left Canterlot. It’s been too busy.”

Chandra pulled open the door. “Kitchen’s to the left, help yourself to whatever,” she said, “I’ve got plenty of food.”

It didn’t take long for everypony to get settled in. Amber didn’t go for food, instead stretching out on a couch for a nap. Phalanx buried himself in the newspapers. Galeblazer said there wasn’t anything there that she wanted (which baffled Chandra, given the amount of food available) and went out into Canterlot to find something else.

So that left Chandra, Kalahari, and Ida sitting around their table, chowing down on sandwiches. After a while, Kalahari swallowed her bite of lettuce and tomato and said, “So now what?”

“Now wha’ wha’?” Ida garbled around the mass of food in her own mouth.

“Well, it’s…” Kalahari rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re all here because of Amber.” She nodded towards the living room. “We needed to get her here to safety. But now that she is safe, now what?”

“We could stick together,” said Ida after she swallowed. “I’ve like these past few days. Barrin’ that one time on the train.”

“That won’t really work,” said Chandra. Which was a shame, because she was enjoying their time together, too. Including that one time on the train, if she was being honest, in a holy-crap-I-almost-died-but-that’s-what-made-it-awesome way. “Phalanx and I both have jobs we need to do-”

“Me, too,” interjected Kalahari. “I can’t stick around Amber just because I feel like it.”

“-and Amber’s probably going to stay in wherever for a while,” Chandra continued, “until this all gets sorted out, and I don’t know what kinds of visitors will be allowed. And who knows what’s going on with Galeblazer.”

“So what about you?” Kalahari asked Ida.

Ida twirled a short lock of hair. “Eh, I dunno,” she said. “I was thinkin’ of stayin’ with Amber, even if I’m in a hotel and she’s in some safe house. I’ve known her a while, and she’d like the company, but when you put it that way… I dunno. Wasn’t really thinkin’ that much, to be honest. Feel kinda silly now.”

“I might be able to get you in,” said Kalahari, “depending on where she is. But that’s a big might, so don’t count on it.”

“If you can, that’d be great.”

“It all depends on safety,” said Kalahari. “I mean, we can’t have you going back and forth from a safe house every day, that’d defeat the purpose. But maybe if you stay with her…” She tapped her chin. “These sorts of things can be stressful, and, well, no offense to Amber, but she’s…”

Ida nodded. “Yeah. I like her and all, but she ain’t good with trouble. I’m actually surprised how well she’s handlin’ it now.”

“Even though she hid under the seats of train cars several times?” Chandra asked.

“For her, that is good.”

“And then there’s you,” muttered Kalahari, “who goes and attacks the ponies looking for her.”

“Hey!” snapped Ida. “I got outta there alright.”

“And what if you hadn’t? What if you got the tar beaten out of you and were left broken on the floor of the train?”

“I didn’t have a choice! This stallion, he already knew Amber was back there, and he was calling for backup.”

“Okay, so maybe bucking him the first time wasn’t a bad idea,” admitted Kalahari. “But to keep it up? Are you trying to get beat up?”

Ida pushed herself up a little out of her chair and raised her voice a little more. “Maybe I just don’t want to-”

Chandra decided she’d had enough and lightly thwacked them both on the head with magic. They both turned to look at her. “Look, what’s done is done,” she said in a strained voice. “There’s no use arguing about it. So both of you, shut up. Okay?”

Ida huffed and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Fine,” Kalahari said, shooting another glare at Ida.

Suppressing a sigh, Chandra cleared her throat. “Anyway, Ida, if you need a place to stay for the night, I’d be happy to oblige. Galeblazer, too, if-”

Phalanx chose that moment to speak up. Incredibly loudly. “WHAT THE MOTHER-DUCKING FRICKER FRAK!”

Chandra flinched and rubbed a hoof in her ear. “Phalanx, calm-”

“Calm down? Calm down?” Phalanx slammed a newspaper on the table: HOME INVASION IN CANTERLOT screamed the headline. “Some group tries to kill Celestia and you want me to CALM DOWN?”

“Wait, what?” Chandra skimmed through the article. Phalanx seemed to be right. Somehow, a group of ponies had managed to get into Canterlot Castle and almost kill Celestia with… the article didn’t go into detail. With something. Somehow.

“I mean, sweet crystalline Cadance, how does that happen?” muttered Phalanx. “We’ve got all the…” He blinked and frowned. “…the…” After a brief pause, he began flipping through the next day’s paper. “No way,” he muttered, “no way…”

Kalahari snatched the article about the invasion from Chandra. “Lemme see that.” She looked it over, her expression growing more and more confused. “You know, for an article about… about this, it’s really vague.” She slid the paper over to Ida. “Not much of anything besides the basics. Not even speculation. You’d think they’d have statements from somepony.”

“Happened the day we left for the Crystal Empire,” Ida said after glancing at the date. “That’s, what, one or two days after the Elements got stolen?”

“Two, I think,” said Kalahari. “They were stolen the morning of Nightmare Night-”

“You’ve…” muttered Phalanx, still leafing through the papers, “you’ve gotta be kidding me. There’s gotta be something. Anything. You can’t just… No.”

Chandra sighed. “What’s up, Phalanx?” She could tell that if she didn’t ask him about it, he was going to keep muttering like that.

“There’s almost nothing else in next day’s paper,” said Phalanx. He beat his wings in frustration, though not hard enough to send newspaper everywhere. “Just some stupid piece about how Celestia’s not going to pursue her leads. And it’s not even on the front page! It’s buried near the back and it’s so small I almost missed it. Look.” He pushed the paper into the center of the table.

Ida and Kalahari stuck their heads in first, so Chandra had to crane her head over them to get a good look. And there it was, stuffed beneath a fluff piece about autumn’s apple harvest. Ida and Kalahari were blocking most of the text, but from what she could see, it had even less actual content than the first article. The wording was vague and padded, and it said the same thing several times over.

“Unbelievable,” Phalanx muttered, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Chandra’s thoughts exactly. What was going on here? Not just in Celestia’s cancelling the investigation, but the way it was presented. It was troubling. Was someone getting into the papers or government? Chandra worked directly for Luna, and already she was thinking of the possibility that somehow, some of Luna’s instructions had been meant to… do something bad. It wasn’t likely, she was just an astronomer, but the idea still gnawed at her.

Kalahari interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll ask Dupinto about it tomorrow,” she said, “see if he knows anything.”

“He better,” muttered Phalanx, glaring at the newspaper.

“So if the invasion happened two days after the Elements were stolen,” Ida said to Kalahari, “then-”

As Ida and Kalahari discussed the possibility that the two were connected, Chandra poked Phalanx on the nose. “You’re getting angry again.”

“With good reason,” grumbled Phalanx, not looking up.

“I never said it wasn’t with good reason. But when you get angry, you get really scowly and snappy and you stay that way for a while. I know this is serious for you, but you need to stop stewing on it before it gets worse.”

Phalanx snorted. “That’s not going to happen. Not unless someone bursts in through the door with something to distract me.”

Galeblazer kicked open the front door. “Hey everybody!” she yelled. “I got dipping sticks!”

Phalanx blinked at her, then blinked at Chandra and shrugged. “...That’ll work.”

Amber’s glow of happiness had worn off a little by evening, but it came right back once a courier came by and said they’d prepared a secure room for her. With Phalanx at her side (just in case, and it made her feel better), they followed the courier into Canterlot Castle to her room.

Some distance in, Amber coughed. “Um. Hey. Phalanx.”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for… for coming and getting me, I… I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted if you hadn’t come along.”

Phalanx opened his mouth to say something, but Amber cut him off. “And, and don’t say it’s nothing. Please. It’s, I, it’s a lot to me.”

From the sound of his voice, Phalanx had to switch gears mid-thought. “It’s- How’d you know that?”

“Because you guys always say it’s nothing when it isn’t,” replied Amber. “Yeah, it is your job, but would you be willing to do it without pay?”

After a pause, Phalanx shook his head. “No. But it’s still my j-”

“It’s a job you volunteered for. You knew it’d be dangerous, but you signed up anyway. It’s not like it was the only thing you could get.” A thought slid through Amber’s mind, and she stumbled a little. “Right?” she asked nervously.

“Right,” said Phalanx, chuckling a little. “This was actually my first job choice.”

“And, well, if you’re setting yourself up for this-”

“Ma’am. Sergeant,” the courier said. “Right in here.” She waved them into a tower room.

It was larger than Amber’s own bedroom back in the Crystal Empire, so it was plenty big. It was kind of a combination of a bedroom and living room, with a bed tucked away on one side and a couch and coffee table on the other. A large window was opposite the door, looking out over the twilit Canterlot. Lots of full bookshelves lined the walls; at least Amber’d have something to do while she was in here. There was even a private bathroom off to one side. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it made Amber feel safe.

Then she noticed the bars on the window.

It was dark, so she hadn’t noticed them at first. But there they were: thick, iron, and crisscrossing the glass on the outside. It was hard to tell why they bothered her; logically, they’d keep pegasi from breaking in that way, right? Right. But it just seemed… off. Overkill. It wasn’t like she had nowhere to go if someone broke in. So why bother with them?

The courier cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get Celestia, and she can show you the ropes.”

“Um… yeah, sure,” said Amber, still staring at the bars. The courier bowed slightly and left.

“You see the bars on the window?” Amber muttered to Phalanx. She wasn’t sure why she was muttering, but she felt like she needed to.

“Yeah. Why?” Phalanx was talking normally.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much? I mean, jail cells have bars on the windows, not safe houses. Rooms. Whatever.”

“They’re there to keep pegasi out of the windows.”

“Yeah, I know that, but…” Amber groaned. “Look, it’s just, I don’t like them. I feel restrained, not protected.” To scratch her paranoia itch a little more, she tried to open the window. That, at least, opened properly.

“Maybe,” said Phalanx, “but-”

Celestia chose that moment to walk in through the door. “Amber,” she said. “I trust you’re finding everything to your satisfaction?”

“Um, not quite, Your Highness,” said Amber. “I was wondering, where am I going to get my food? There’s no kitchen here or anything.”

“Your food will be delivered here to you. You won’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh. Well, um, then I guess not.”

“Perfect.” Celestia turned her attention to Phalanx. “Sergeant, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a delicate matter, and we can’t let Amber have any visitors.”

“Not even now?” Phalanx asked. “But-”

“Now.”

That wasn’t Celestia’s normal voice. It’d suddenly gained a few extra layers of command and impatience, something Amber hadn’t heard in her before. Her expression had become angry, a borderline glare. It wasn’t directed at her, and Amber still took a few steps back.

Even Phalanx flinched. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “See you, Amber.” A quick glance between her and Celestia, and Phalanx slowly backed out of the room.

“Can’t have any visitors?” Amber asked. Her bubbly feeling was draining out through her hooves.

“I’m sorry,” said Celestia in a voice that seemed remarkably insincere, “but we can’t risk anypony getting to you. I know you’ll be lonely, but it’s for the best if we just disallow all visits.”

“What if, what if I know them and approve them?” Amber asked, even though she already knew the answer. “Then-”

“Too risky,” said Celestia. She was starting to look angry again. “We can’t let anypony in.”

“Okay, okay,” said Amber quickly. She took a step back. “So, so am I just going to stay here, or-”

“Yes. You’ll stay here at all times. Everything you need will be provided to you, be it food or cleaning. To keep any possible assassins out, the door will be locked at all times, except when it’s necessary to enter or exit the room, such as when guards check up on you.”

The bubbly feeling was gone completely. “Locked? But-”

Celestia leaned down toward Amber. “Please,” she hissed in a way that suggested it wasn’t a request. “You’re important. You need to stay here.” This close, it felt like her eyes were burning, and her jaw was visibly clenched.

“Okay,” Amber squeaked.

Celestia stood up straight again. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but it’s in your best interests. You need to stay here. We need to keep you safe.” She left the room. Behind her, the door closed. Amber could hear a few metallic clicks as locks engaged.

Amber swallowed. Between the bars, the locks, and the last look on Celestia’s face, she’d probably feel safer back home.