Phalanx remembered the route back to Amber’s house well enough that he was in the lead. And fortunately for him, Ida was one of those ponies that could run and talk, filling him in on everything. “So,” he said to Ida, “you didn’t see them come in? Amber just saw them already inside and bolted?”

“I think so, yeah,” said Ida. Her voice was panting a little, but not as much as Chandra or Kalahari were. “How d’you think they found us? Luck?”

“I don’t know,” said Phalanx, sliding to a halt in front of Amber’s door. “But right now, we just need to get away from yipe!” He ducked under the saddlebag sailing out of the door.

Amber stuck her head out the door, grinning nervously and talking fast. “Hey! You know what’s a bad idea? Being here!” She ducked back inside and another saddlebag flew out. “You know what’s a great idea?” she yelled from inside. “Getting on the train to Ponyville right now!”

“Already?” asked Phalanx, ducking another bag. “It’s already that late?”

“Not quite, but I sure as hay am not going to sit here and wait for them to come get me!”

“So you’re going to sit on the train instead?” asked Kalahari, catching up and panting a little. She didn’t duck in time, and the last bag smacked her in the face.

“Well, then, I’m there, aren’t I?” said Amber. She trotted out of her house with bags of her own. Giving one last look inside, she slammed the door shut and locked it. “And you’ll be with me so things won’t be that bad because I’ll have some more people to protect me.” She raced down her front steps and was a considerable distance down the street before she realized no one else was following her. She turned back. “So are we going or not?” She was jittery, jumping in place a lot and flicking her ears and tail.

“We’re going,” Phalanx said before anyone else could. “If we’ve been followed, I’d rather be caught on the train than off it.”

“Heh heh. Great,” said Amber in a rather high-pitched voice. “Come on, then.”

The pace Amber moved at was breakneck, and it was all Phalanx could do to keep her from losing the rest of the group entirely. By the time everyone had arrived at the station, Amber had already bought their tickets and dropped her bags in the last car.

“Come on come on come on come on come on,” she said to nopony in particular as she jumped in place outside the door. She glanced up and down the station platform. “I don’t want to be outside any more than I have to.” She shot back inside and ducked below the windows.

As he carried his bags inside, Phalanx sighed. Was this all worth it? Amber was just so jumpy, it was possible that any testimony from her would be useless, her memories corrupted by her own nervousness. And even if that wasn’t the case, how much could she have seen? Would there really be anything in there that would be all that useful?

Still, he’d said he’d bring her back. He was going to bring her back.

He got into a seat normally, but Amber poked him the leg from her spot on the floor. “Hey,” she whispered. “You, you probably don’t want to sit like that. They’ll see you through the windows.” She glanced around the carriage; it was empty except for the rest of their group. “The rest of you, too.”

Phalanx shifted in the seat and bent down. “Really?” he asked skeptically. “You think that they’ll happen to come by the train station and happen to look in and see us?”

“Yes,” said Amber. “They found me at the Teal Trotter so they know it’s likely I live around there and that narrows down their search area a whole lot and they saw that I was real nervous and they know I won’t want to stick around and the train’s the fastest way out so they’ll come to the station to watch out for me and if they don’t see me on the platform they’ll look in the train and if I’m down below they won’t see me so yes they will happen to come by the train station and happen to look in and see me if I’m up and I don’t know if they saw the rest of you but do you really want to take that chance?”

There was a second of silence before Chandra scurried under her own seat. “She’s got a point,” she said.

And Amber did. Phalanx didn’t like to admit it, but that was actually some pretty solid logic. He almost ducked down himself, following Kalahari and Ida in doing so. But still, it seemed like overkill. And Phalanx didn’t want to be stuck under a seat for the last… (he glanced at a clock) nine minutes until the train left.

An excuse for being up presented itself. “If you’re that nervous,” he said to Amber, softening his voice a little, “I’ll scout out the platform until the train leaves, alright? Keep an eye out for anypony suspicious.”

“S-sure, okay,” said Amber. “Just don’t get seen.” She didn’t look like it was okay, still curled up beneath her seat, but Phalanx was going to take what he could get.

He left the car for the platform and immediately began scanning the crowd. Looking for suspicious ponies was partially an excuse to get up, yes, but it was partially also a genuine sentiment. If he could pick out anypony that was Up to Something, he could either just avoid them until the train left or, if they followed him on board, catch them and grill them for information.

Assuming they were alone, of course. If they had company, that might prove a bit more awkward. Both ways, for that matter.

But that was something he’d get to later. As Phalanx looked across the platform, he couldn’t see anything suspicious, but that didn’t mean much. He started meandering towards the front of the train, trying to get a better look at the assembled ponies. He watched for some of the obvious signs, particularly staring at the train, but couldn’t see anything.

He reached the front of the train, turned around, and noticed something he hadn’t seen before: a mare was talking with the lieutenant of the guards at the station. Rampart Watch? Yeah, that was his name. Phalanx didn’t recognize the mare, but since most ponies tended to just ignore guards, it struck him as a bit odd.

He didn’t change his pace as he walked towards them, but they broke off their conversation before he could get close enough to hear what they were saying. The mare left the platform, and Rampart went back to watching the crowd.

Phalanx didn’t see anything else as he made his way back to the carriage. “Nothing,” he said to Amber. “I think we’re in the clear, but I’ll watch the door to be safe.” After a moment’s thought, he reluctantly slid below the level of the windows.

“Good,” said Amber. Her smile wasn’t the biggest, but she was breathing a bit more slowly. “That’s part of the reason I picked this car. Because it’s the back and if it’s the back they can’t come from the back because you can’t go further back than the back so they have to come from the front and that way it’s easier to see them coming when they’re only coming from one direction so it’s easier to def-”

“Hey,” said Chandra, lightly touching one of Amber hooves, “calm down. We’re doing fine. Don’t worry, you’ll be okay.”

Phalanx sat and waited, occasionally poking his head over the window to steal a quick glance at the station (he never saw anything), until the whistle blew and the train lurched out of the station. All the time, he slowly grew more and more impatient. He didn’t like the waiting to begin with, and now he had to wait for hours to get back to Ponyville.

But a little while into the trip, as he was watching a forest rush by, something began nagging at him. It was a tiny feeling, but it was definitely there. He’d had that feeling before; sometimes it was wrong, sometimes it was right, but it never hurt to scratch at it. He didn’t know what was causing it, but he knew how to make it go away.

He glanced at Amber, who was fidgeting in one of the back corners. Their group of five was still the only ones in the car; Kalahari had her muzzle buried in a book, while Chandra and Ida were talking about something. Phalanx got up and walked over to Amber, nudging her on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Amber flinched a little, but she turned to him and tried a little smile. It almost came out. “Hey.”

“I think I should do some scouting in the train,” he said at the same time she said, “I think you should do some scouting in the train.”

They blinked at almost the same time. Phalanx opened his mouth to ask what made her say that, but immediately knew what would happen and closed it again.

“What makes you say that?” asked Amber. “Or, or do you have a bad feeling about this, too?”

“The second, yeah,” said Phalanx, nodding. He looked over his shoulder at the front of the car. “It’s, I don’t know. I don’t like the quiet.”

“Heh, great,” muttered Amber. She giggled a little. “On the one hoof, yay! It’s not just me! But on the other, crap. It’s not just me.”

“I know the feeling. I’ll be going, then. I should be back in… ten minutes, I think. It’s not exactly a big train.”

“No, not, not really.” Amber pulled herself together tightly. “Be careful, alright?”

I’m a royal guard. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for years. What makes you think I won’t be careful? But Phalanx didn’t want to Amber think he was being dismissive of her, so he said, “Of course.” He turned and set off to the next car.

The wind between the cars surprised him a little; this was one of those older trains that lacked conduits between cars and instead had a running board at the end of each carriage. The wind from the train was pulled into the gap and whipped up further by the narrow space. And when you opened or closed the door, it created a draft anyone in the car could hear. No luck in hiding in silence, then.

He changed his gait a little, trying to make it look like he was just stretching his legs. He kept his eyes forward; if anyone looked at him, he wouldn’t look like he was looking at them. He “glanced” around with his peripherals as he tried to pick out any suspicious behavior.

But he didn’t have any luck. The train wasn’t all that full, and the ponies that were there were either staring out the windows, talking with someone else, or reading. Nothing to suggest any sort of subversive behavior.

That did nothing to stop the nagging. If anything, it only made it worse. Phalanx kept walking down the train and kept looking.

And then he reached a car with a locked door. He frowned, jiggled it a little to make sure it wasn’t just stuck, but no, it was definitely locked. He banged his hoof on the door, then pressed his ear to it. Nothing.

The door opened just as he pulled his head away. A conductor in an ill-fitting uniform stuck her head out of the gap. “Yes?” she asked, annoyed. “This is the baggage car. Passengers aren’t allowed in here.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Phalanx. Well, duh. What else could it have been? Stupid. “I didn’t know. I was just taking a walk, and… I-I’ll be going now.” He turned back down the train.

He was just closing the door in the passenger car when the conductor spoke up again. “Hold up. You a royal guard? You look like one.”

“Yeah,” Phalanx said, half-cautiously. “Why?”

The conductor coughed. “Eh, no reason.” She closed the door to the baggage car again.

Phalanx blinked and stared at the door, something nagging at him. He’d learned a long time ago that “no reason” often meant “no reason I want you to know about”. But sometimes it did mean “no reason”, and the hard part was figuring out which was which.

He decided it was the latter; she didn’t seem that surprised to see him. Still, just in case, he’d keep a close watch on the forward door of their group’s car.

But as he started back towards the end of the train, he still felt like something was wrong, both with the conductor and the apparent lack of thieves on the train. PROBABLY no one here. I’ve combed these few cars and not seen them. They could be on the train, but they’d still need to come down thi-

Phalanx’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint clopping. Hooves on metal, and they seemed to be getting closer. He glanced back up the hall, but he couldn’t see anypony moving. The few ponies he did see were either trying to get a few winks in or staring out the windows. But the sound was definitely getting closer, almost like they were nearly on top of him.

And, now that he thought about it, something was off about its direction. It was like…

…they were on the roof.

Phalanx bolted for the rear door. Of course they’d be on the roof. Who else went on the roof of a train? As he ran, he listened closely. It sounded like they were just above him. As he passed to the next car, Phalanx looked up as the shadow of another pony leapt over the gap between the two cars’ roofs. It didn’t look like they had seen him. Which meant…

Phalanx kept his pace as best he could and spread his wings. As soon as he reached the gap between the next two cars, he swept them down, leaping up to the roof of the second car, hoping to catch the other pony mid-jump.

Phalanx’s head hit the pony hard in the chest, and their combined momentum carried them across to the next roof in a tumble. Stars swam in Phalanx’s vision; he instinctively flapped his wings to try to slow himself down, but in the wind of the train, that just made things worse.

At first. After a moment, Phalanx managed to get his bearings in spite of the rolling. The other pony -- a unicorn stallion -- almost managed to pin him down, but Phalanx angled his wings enough to scoop himself up, keep rolling, and pin the unicorn instead. He bit down on the end of the unicorn’s tail and bodily swung the unicorn around. By chance, the improvised flail hit another unicorn behind him as Phalanx let go, and the two were thrown from the train, smashing through tree branches with yelps.

A few ponies were on the roof of the car, braced against the wind. Four of them, all looking quite surprised to see him. Except for the one in front. An unicorn mare with a bleached-yellow coat, she seemed more than happy to see him, in the same way a hawk is happy to see a struggling mouse. “Hey there,” she yelled. “Nice jump.”

Phalanx snorted, his ears back. Keeping his wings angled to push him against the roof, he began slowly walking backwards -- not from intimidation, but to head towards the back of the train while keeping his eyes forward.

“Quiet one, are ya?” she smirked. “Look, you know why I’m here. I know why you’re here. Why don’t you just step aside and let us be on our way? You don’t need to get hurt. I’d haaaaate that.” Her broad smile suggested she didn’t.

She’s delaying, Phalanx thought. But delaying for what? Ponies going inside the cars, probably. He needed to get back to Amber and the others; for all he knew, they were being attacked already. He jumped a little, flared his wings, and the wind whipped him towards the back of the train.

There was a flash, and the unicorn was gone. Phalanx knew what that meant. He re-angled his wings and the wind slammed back onto the roof of the train, his hooves grinding against the metal. Before he stopped, he pivoted around and was face-to-face with the mare again.

Surprised, she tried to throw up a shield, but Phalanx swept his wings back, lunging forward and smashing through the shield. He and the mare fell to the ground in a tangle, but he quickly gained the upper hoof and pinned her down, one leg on her chest and another on her neck, his wings beating for extra downforce. Phalanx shoved her head against the roof, hoping the disorientation would keep her from teleporting away.

He glanced back down the train. The ponies that had been there were nowhere to be seen, probably back inside the train. Crap. But as long as he had this mare here…

“Who are you?” Phalanx yelled at her. “What do you want?”

The mare squirmed, but she couldn’t break out of Phalanx’s hold. She grinned. “Oh, come on. Not yet. Not before Pennyroyal makes his move.”

Phalanx froze. He knew that name. Most everypony in Equestria knew that name. Did she really mean-

The mare blinked and, as she realized she’d said too much, her grin was replaced with an expression of horror. She began fighting harder, lashing out with all her legs. One of them caught Phalanx right in the ribcage. Phalanx gasped and reflexively recoiled as he closed his wings. It was enough for the mare to break free and bolt down the train.

Phalanx fought to regain his breath as he followed her. He flapped his wings, gained on her, tackled her again, pinned her again. He was about to ask another question when a sound broke through the wind of the train: ding ding ding-

Signal, screamed his mind. No time to look; he jumped as best he could, using his wings for a little extra oomph, drawing his legs as close to his body as he could, hoping the overhead signal would pass right ben-

The steel frame caught his left rear hoof. Sheer speed twisted it in ways hooves weren’t to twist, and the resistance spun Phalanx in the air as he descended. His head smashed against the roof of the train; stars began appearing in his vision. It was hard to say which hurt more, his entire spine or his hoof.

The mare was up already, standing over him like some sort of predatory bird; either the signal had gone right over her or she had teleported just beyond it. “You know,” she said, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got places to be.”

And with that, she pushed Phalanx off the train and vanished.

His head was spinning like mad, but all that guard training wasn’t for nothing, and Phalanx recovered almost immediately, pumping his wings to hold his altitude and match the train’s speed. Throwing a pegasus off any sort of cliff was a stupid thing to do, but overconfidence could do that to you.

He didn’t go anywhere, but simply blinked the stars away and dodged trees until his head was clear. Amber. They were going after Amber. Rear car.

Phalanx flared his wings, billowing to a stop relative to the ground. Once the rear car passed him, he picked up speed again and began scanning the windows.

Ida hadn’t paid much attention when Phalanx left. He most likely had something to do that she wouldn’t particularly care about. Maybe he was just restless.

But after a while, Amber suddenly became a bit more jittery. At first, Ida paid it no mind -- that was just Amber -- but when she started pacing, and pacing loudly, it became hard to ignore. “Somethin’ wrong?” Ida asked, breaking off her conversation with Chandra.

Amber took a few deep breaths. “Phalanx left a while ago to check out the train and if there’s anypony else on it that we don’t want and he said he’d be back in ten minutes and that sounded good to me but it’s been twelve minutes and he’s not back yet and I’m wondering i-”

“If somethin’s wrong?” Ida asked. Amber nodded, and Ida couldn’t help but sigh. “Look, Amber, I get that you’d be a mite concerned ‘bout him. But think about it: he’s a Royal Guard. D’you really think that there’s goin’ to be somethin’ that he can’t handle?”

“Maybe,” said Amber. She pawed at the ground. “I, I mean, like, what if, what if he has found something? That, that wouldn’t be good. Not at all.”

Chandra and Ida exchanged glances. “D’you want me to go lookin’ for him?” asked Ida.

Amber nodded vigorously. “If, if you would.” She grinned for maybe half an instant before trying to smooth her hair down with her hooves. “It’s just, I’m sure you’re right, but this, this isn’t my best time.”

“You want me to come with?” Chandra asked.

Ida shook her head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. You can stay here with Amber.” She glanced at Kalahari, who hadn’t taken her nose from her book since the train started moving. “And Kal, but I don’t think she’d noticed.”

“Alright,” said Chandra. She lowered her voice so Amber couldn’t hear. “Good luck.”

Ida nodded and set off down the train. Who knew, Amber might be right. She was jumpier than usual, but she had been right about the thieves being after her, a-”

Right at the end of the last car and the start of the next, she literally bumped into an Earth stallion heading towards the back of the train. He was gray, kind of a slate color, and had this weird short, spiky manecut Ida had sworn she’d seen before. He was big, almost a foot taller than Ida.

“Sorry,” Ida said, brushing herself off. “My fault.”

“Apology accepted,” the stallion said, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, is there a dark tannish Crystal Pony back there? I’m looking for her.”

Ida’s skin crawled. Amber was right, she thought. She stalled, flicking an ear with a hoof as if she was thinking. “Erm… I don’t think so,” she said. “How come?”

“I’m a friend of hers.” The stallion didn’t try to get around Ida, but the twitching in his knees said he really wanted to. “She… went for a walk a while back, and I’m just making sure she’s okay.”

A test blinked into Ida’s head. “Why don’t I check ‘round for you?” she asked. “Just go on back to wherever, and I’ll see if I can find her. What’s her name?”

The stallion laughed, but it was stiff, hollow. “No need to concern yourself with that. I can manage on my own.”

“What’s her name?”

The stallion blinked and narrowed his eyes. “She’s back there,” he hissed. He looked over his shoulder and yelled, “She’s ba-”

As soon as the stallion looked back, Ida turned around and planted her front hooves against the running board. Before he could complete the sentence, she’d bucked him right in the chest.

Ida had grown up doing good, hard, back-straining manual labor a good chunk of her life. She’d grown up with two older brothers and an older sister who liked to tussle with her a lot. She was no stranger to any sort of intense physical activity. A large chunk of her daily chores could easily be considered exercise, from plowing the fields to carrying heavy buckets of apples to simply hoisting hay bales up and down from the loft of the barn. And it was all topped off with being an Earth pony.

Ida was strong.

The stallion went flying half the length of the car and slid the remainder, hitting his head against the door. The two or three other passengers in the car jumped their seats and huddled against the walls, their gazes flicking back and forth between Ida and the stallion. He was snarling and picking himself up. “You little punk,” he hissed. “Hand her over and you won’t get hurt.”

“I ain’t the one who’s hurtin’!” yelled Ida. “You ain’t gettin’ back here!” She wanted to charge him, to plow him through every single door on the train, but that’d take her too far away.

The stallion rolled his neck, producing some impressive cracks, and began creeping forward. The remaining passengers took that opportunity to bolt towards the front of the train. “Just step aside,” he growled. His ears were back and he began pawing at the floor.

Ida lowered herself, getting as stable a stance as she could. “Make me, you lily-livered-”

The stallion roared. Actually roared. He was probably trying to be intimidating, but to Ida, it was just silly. What wasn’t silly was his sudden charge. He was big, faster than he’d seemed, and he’d bowl right through Ida, even braced as she was.

But charging like that meant he’d made a mistake: his head was forward and down. And while his mane was short, it was plenty long enough for an idea that popped into Ida’s head.

She charged him, and in the confined space, the two met in barely a second. Right before they actually collided, Ida jumped up, just enough to get over him. As he passed under her, she craned her head down and bit down on his mane.

Locked together by Ida’s death grip of a bite, their heads stayed in one place while their bodies kept moving. Ida twisted in the air, getting her hooves under her and almost landing gracefully. No such luck for the stallion; his legs flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back. Before he could do anything more than flail ineffectually, Ida -- still holding him by the mane -- wrenched him up into the air and slammed him back down. He stopped moving.

Which was good, because a pair of hooves slammed into Ida from the side: a partner of the stallion. A unicorn mare drop-kicked her and she was thrown down the car.

Ida managed to get to her hooves before she stopped moving. She skidded to a halt and charged at the mare, trying to make it harder for her to use magic.

The mare didn’t seem particularly interested in magic and didn’t even try it. She seemed to stand her ground until Ida hit her. At the moment of impact, the mare twisted, changed the motion of the charge, turned it into a roll. She wound up on top of Ida, but before she could do any pinning, Ida thrust out with her rear legs and bucked her in the chest. It wasn’t the strongest, but it’d have to do.

The mare bounced off a bench and shattered the glass in the adjacent window, but didn’t fall all the way out. In a panic, she stuck out her forelegs, catching one on each side of the window. After a second to catch her breath, she yanked herself back in and plopped down on the bench.

At the same time, Ida got her hooves under the bench and lifted it up with all her might, wrenching the bolts straight out of their sockets through sheer strength and levering the mare out the window. Her obscenities were audible for several seconds as she bounced down the track before the train left her behind.

“Not bad.”

Ida whirled at the sound. Rhea. The unicorn she’d bucked the orange juice at. She was standing in the doorway, watching the whole thing with the attention of someone who’s found a mildly interesting TV show. She was grinning, but it was brittle.

Ida charged her, but bounced off a shield of Rhea’s. Rhea made no move to walk forward. “And, you know,” she said, “props for that whole thing back in the Crystal Empire, much as I hate to admit it. Brave. Stupid, but brave.”

Ida braced herself again. “What do you want?”

Rhea kept grinning. “The Crystal Pony, obviously.” Her grin dropped and a bolt of magic sent Ida flying back into the rear car.

Everyone looked up and gasped. As Ida got to her hooves, Amber scrambled to the observation deck. Another blast entered the car; Ida ducked and it sailed clear out the back.

Kalahari was at Ida’s side and maybe a little behind. “Isn’t she from the tavern?” she muttered.

“Yeah,” said Ida.

Rhea strode into the car. “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again,” she said. “We only want the Cry-”

She was cut off as she ran into a suddenly-conjured shield. Sparks flew and she staggered back, one hoof to her face, now singed with a few small, black marks. She didn’t say anything or scream so much as angrily verbalize phonemes.

Ida looked to one side; Chandra was next to her, her brows furrowed in concentration as her horn glowed. Ida nodded her appreciation, which Chandra returned.

Taking a step forward, Rhea tapped the shield experimentally. There was another spark; she yanked her hoof back, shaking it, and breathed in sharply through slightly clenched teeth. “Impressive,” she said to Chandra. Her own horn began glowing. “But I’ll be much easier on you if you just drop it.”

“If you want to get to her,” said Chandra, “you’ll ha-”

Rhea sighed. “I know this one. I’ll have to go through you. But is that really the smartest thing to say to someone who can and will go through you?”

Chandra’s eyes went wide and she gulped. But she didn’t move and she didn’t drop the shield.

Rhea grinned again. “Look,” she said, “we don’t need to make this difficult. Jus-”

And then Phalanx torpedoed through a window and into her, sending her flying out the window on the opposite side.

Phalanx flared his wings as he slid to a stop on the floor, panting and holding one of his legs awkwardly off the ground, and turned to Ida. “Hey. She’s a bad guy.”

Ida nodded dumbly. “I notisweet Celestia why’s your leg bleedin’ like that?”

“Hmm?” Phalanx looked at his leg; a large portion of skin had been torn away and blood was dripping onto the floor. “Oh. That. I twisted my leg on an overhead signal.” He tapped it and winced. “Didn’t notice it was bleeding, though.” Considering the extent of the damage, his voice sounded like someone commenting on their coffee being a bit weak.

In the doorway, another unicorn charged forward, screaming some sort of war cry. She had only taken four steps when Phalanx tripped her, jumped on her, and pinned her to the ground. “You were the conductor,” he hissed. “Where’s the real one? Did you kill her?”

The mare tried to kick, but there was a burst of magic from Chandra, and all four legs were pinned to the ground by glowing manacles. The mare struggled weakly, then went limp. “No. Knocked her out,” she said. “Didn’t want blood on the uniform.”

With her hooves secured, Phalanx stepped off her and pressed his nose to hers. “What are you doing? What’s your plan?”

The mare grinned. “You really think it’s that easy? I’ll never te-”

Phalanx kicked her in the head. Hard. Her eyes rolled back into unconsciousness. “Then I have no use for you,” he muttered.

Ida swallowed. “You think that mighta been a little… much?”

“I’d rather have her be unconscious than probably shouting insults at us,” said Phalanx, shrugging. “I’ve seen her type. They don’t give up information for anything, so why bother trying?”

Ida swallowed again. “If you say so.”

Phalanx limped over to the door. After a quick look-around, he closed it and planted his front hooves against it. “There’ll probably be more coming. We ne-”

“Idea,” said Kalahari. “Chandra, can you detach the seats from the floor?”

Chandra crouched down next to her seat. “On it.” With a soft glow of magic, the bolts began unscrewing.

“Barricade?” Phalanx asked.

Kalahari nodded. “Barricade.”

Once the seat was up, Kalahari and Ida dragged it to the door while Chandra worked on the next one. It wasn’t long before almost every seat in the car was piled in front of the door and completely blocking it off. With a little more magic, Chandra twisted some the seats apart and intertwined them with each other to make the pile a little bit stronger.

Surveying the barricade, Phalanx nodded. “Not bad. That should be…” His voice trailed off, his eyes went wide, and he started looking frantically around the room. “Where’s Amber?”

“Here!” Amber squeaked from the observation deck. She waved a hoof from around the doorjamb, then slowly walked back inside. “I’m, I’m okay. Are they gone?”

Phalanx nodded, jerking his head at the barricade. “We’re safe for now, but that won’t last forever. It’s only a matter of time before a unicorn blows the whole thing to shreds or a pegasus just flies around it.”

“C-can we last to Ponyville?” whispered Amber.

“I don’t know,” said Phalanx. “Probably if I was fine, but…” He lifted up his leg a little and winced.

Ida frowned. “Well, they ain’t been too hard to fight so far. How many of them’re out there?”

Phalanx squinted through a crack in their barricade. “Not much, but more are coming by the minute,” he said. “Mostly unicorns and pegasi; they’re probably teleporting and flying on. They’re going to keep coming, and if they break through here, we’re dead, because I do-”

“We need to jump,” Amber said. She said it quietly, like it was mostly for herself.

“Jump off the train?” said Kalahari, agape. “You- you can’t be serious. At this speed, we-”

“Not to the ground,” Amber whispered loudly. “I know the route and there’s a bridge coming up in like a minute and it’s over a wide river and we should be safe to jump into that and get away from these ponies and-”

“With my leg twisted and more ponies gathering outside,” said Phalanx, still looking out, “that’s probably the least unwise course of action.” He turned to Amber. “How soon?”

“Not more than two minutes,” she said. “I know the turns and we’re getting close to it.”

“We’re jumping,” said Phalanx. “Everypony get your bags.”

Kalahari stepped in front of him. “Wait, wait, you actually think this is a good idea?”

“It’s not a good idea,” snapped Phalanx. “It’s a bad idea. But it’s also the least bad idea. Believe me, if you have a better idea, I would love to hear it.”

Kalahari didn’t say anything.

“Get your bags,” he repeated. He pressed his head back up against the barricade. “Ida, take a look out, see if you can see the bridge Amber’s talking about.”

Ida trotted to a window, opened it up, and pushed her head out into the wind. The sun was getting low in the sky, but there was still enough to see by. She squinted up the tracks. They were going through a long, wide curve, so she could make out some of the land ahead more easily.

She saw it. Not too far ahead, the track crossed a wide river, the bridge low over the water. They could jump.

She pulled her head back in. “I see it,” she said. “It ain’t that bad, and it’s plenty wide, but we’re gonna have to be snappy ‘bout it, ‘cause it’s comin’ up fast.”

Amber giggled a little. “See? Told you.”

“Right, everyone on the observation deck,” said Phalanx. “Make a line. Everypony jumps off one after the other.”

Amber practically bolted to the end; Chandra soon followed her. Kalahari and Ida exchanged glances. “This is crazy,” muttered Kalahari. “Cuuuuh-raaay-zeeee.”

“And what part of the whole ‘mysterious group of ponies tryin’ to kill y’all’ ain’t?”

Kalahari tilted her head and frowned. “…Point,” she muttered as she and Ida followed Chandra back.

The bridge was even closer and fast approaching. The river was even wider than Ida had thought at first; hopefully, it wouldn’t be too rapid.

Amber planted her front hooves on the deck’s railing. “Okay,” she muttered as the front of the train went on the . “Don’t choke.” She took a deep breath and hurled herself over the railing, landing in the river below with a splash.

Chandra quickly followed her over. Kalahari looked at the railing, looked at Ida. “Stupid,” she scowled, and flung herself into the river.

Ida placed a hoof on the railing, then looked at Phalanx, finally away from the barricade. “You sure you’ll be okay jumpin’?”

Phalanx rolled his eyes. “It’s just my leg that’s messed up.” He flared his wings. “I’ll be fine. Go, I’m right behind you.”

Ida nodded, took a deep breath, and jumped.

It took half a moment for her to process what, exactly, she’d done. She’d jumped off a train, and from the wind, the train was moving quite fast. If she hit the ground, she’d almost cer-

She hit the water, and hit it hard. It slammed into her chest like a sledgehammer, and then the cold began working its way into her body like pins and needles. Her breath was almost knocked out of her and it took every ounce of self-control to not instinctively breathe in and inhale water. All the while, the current tugged at her, pushing her downstream.

She flailed her hooves in the water, trying to find which way was up and hoping her saddlebags weren’t dragging her down. After a moment, one of her front hooves broke the surface of the water. Then the other, then her head. Ida sucked in air, gasping. She blinked water out of her eyes and squinted through the gathering gloom.

Most of the rest of the group was already on the shore of the river, coughing. Ida followed them over. As she dragged her way out of the water and shook herself off, Chandra waved to her and motioned to the others’ bags in a pile; Chandra was drying them off with magic as best she could.

“Thanks,” Ida said, discarding her bags. Everyone else was a bit of a ways away, but she could still hear them talking. Phalanx had already landed there.

“-one okay?” asked Phalanx. He started muttering to himself. “Okay, Amber, Chandra, Kalahari, and… you alright, Ida?”

“Eeyup!”

Phalanx nodded grimly. “Well, at least that went…” He stopped, then suddenly lowered himself to the ground and curled his wounded leg in. “…oooowwww… Frick…”

Chandra was by his side in an instant. “What about you? Are you alright?”

Phalanx was breathing deeply. “As much- as I- can be,” he muttered. “Adrenaline’s- just- wearing off. Hurts.”

“Okay.” Chandra looked around them, then at Amber. “Um, hey, Amber…do you know where we are?”

Amber hung her head. “N-not really, no. North of the Everfree, but that’s about it. The… Bitterroot Forest, I think.” She swallowed. “I… I don’t think anypony else is out here. Just us. For miles and miles.” She hung her head even lower, and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chandra said. “I can’t think of any way we could’ve stayed on the train. And, listen, it’s possible that there’s somepony else out here, especially this close to the train tracks. There’s still some light out. I’ll go and try to see if there’s anyone around, or at least a place where we can find better shelter.”

Kalahari shrugged. “It’s better than nothing. Just don’t get lost.”

“I won’t.” Chandra’s horn began glowing and she headed off into the forest.

Once Chandra was gone, Kalahari squinted at Phalanx’s leg and rubbed some of the blood away. “This could be bad,” she said. “We need to get something on this. I know a little first aid, but I don’t think we have any medical supplies.”

“I know plants,” said Ida. “I can at least get y’all some leaves and what have you to make a bandage or somethin’. Maybe even some herbs to keep the pain down. Ain’t much, but…” She shrugged.

“If you can, that’d be great.”

Ida nodded and trotted into the forest, trying to pick out plants in the darkness. This was bad, but it wasn’t that bad.

Ha ha, yeah, right.