Anatami couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to so much music in so little time.

She was hunched over a table in one of the darker corners of yet another of the many sailor bars that littered the edges of Straterra, letting the shadows work with a loose-fitting cloak to hide the distinctive tufts of her ears. Her eyes lingered over the rowdy patrons as they let themselves loose after weeks or months aboard tight-run merchant ships.

She’d lost track of those two Gifted mares while recovering from her injuries, and she was determined to find them again.

How many of these raucous holes had she visited in the last few days? They were so alike, and they were all starting to run together. They all had the same hearty fireplace, the same laughing crowd, the same smiling bartender and the same not-quite-clean mugs. They also all shared the same corner stage, but the bands that occupied them were as varied as the ships drifting above the city’s streets.

She’d heard swing, jazz, rock, blues, and every shade in between. Some of the bands were quite good, belting out rhythms that spoke to her body in some primal way that inspired her to bob her head or tap a hoof. Others, not so much.

But Ana wasn’t touring the bars of Straterra in search of musical treats. She looked down at the mug of mango cider nestled between her hooves. Someone had scratched something into the stone tabletop, but it was too faded for her to make out in any detail. She raised the mug to her lips and took a sip, letting herself enjoy the tangy bite of the drink even as her ears parsed the sailor gossip around her.

Word is there’s a hiring spree down in Skyshoals.

Don’t work any ships headed to Tradewithers. No, the barons are clashing with the free city again.

Did you hear another island fell just a few days ago? Yes, that’s where all the refugees came from. Sad business, that.

My boss took on a few passengers yesterday. He doesn’t usually do that, but they looked like money, and one of them was the most gorgeous mare you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Ana’s ear twitched. Well how about that? She’d paid good bits to buy good ears around the island, listening for just such a mention. She hadn’t expected to be the one to actually make the score. Guess I won’t have to find some bits to pay the finder’s fee after all.

Her eyes traced a lazy trail around the room, stopping on a squad of sailors chattering over their drinks and a small-stakes game of dice. Only one of them seemed to be paying the dice any great attention, his shouts of excitement louder than the others with every roll. The rest were focused on their conversation, paying the game just enough mind to play with their wallets and spirits alike.

“Ye shoulda seen her, friend,” one stallion was saying. “Coat as white as a marshmallow, and the hardest-working mane on the island.”

“What did she call it?” a mare asked, throwing some bits into the pile at the center of the table. “Her coffin? Coffee?”

“Coiffure,” said a second mare.

“Are you sure?” the first mare asked. She chuckled. “That don’t sound like a word to me.”

“What would you know about manes, eh?” the first stallion said. The dice rattled within the cup he held in his hooves. “Ye ain’t touched yer mane in months!”

There was a round of laughter at the table, followed by some good-natured threats and a raising of voices as the dice were thrown. Ana smirked, taking a deeper gulp of her drink. That was Countess Rarity, for sure. Now she just had to wait for the crew to head back to their ship, and find her own way aboard.

“Batty? Is that you?”

Ana suppressed a curse. She looked over to see a pair of thick-bodied earth ponies approaching the table with wide grins. They weren’t very friendly grins.

“I’ll be damned! It is you!” the front stallion said. He turned to his comrade, nudging him with an elbow. “You ever seen a mooncursed, kid? Hey, pull that hood down! Show him your ears!”

Ana rolled her eyes, looking away and leaning back into her seat. “I’m not in the mood for your crap, Kick.”

“Pfft!” Kick landed heavily in the seat opposite her, his hardened vest clanking against the stone. “You’re never in the mood. What’re you doin’ in Straterra, anyways? I didn’t see the Screech anywhere when we came in.”

“I’m on vacation,” Ana said. She waved a hoof at the band. “Sampling the local jazz.”

Kick laughed as if she had told some outrageously clever joke. “I never took you for a record junkie, Bats!” He turned, scanning the room. “Say, where’s that old bird of yours? It’s been too long since we shared a drink.”

“You know how she is, Kick,” Ana said. She smiled, showing her predator teeth. “She doesn’t like eating anything that won’t run from her.”

The other earth stallion cringed, moving to put his back to the wall. Kick chuckled at his companion’s discomfort. “Don’t worry, kid,” he said. “Gava won’t eat you unless you give her a good excuse.” He waved down a serving mare, dipping his head as he pulled a mug of cider from her tray.

“I hope you’re not getting too comfortable,” Ana said, grimacing as he drank deep from the mug and slammed it down onto the table. “The music was just getting good, and I’d hate to have to go find another bar.”

“What, I can’t sit and talk business with a work friend for a few minutes?” Kick asked. He grinned at her, and she glowered back. The other stallion shifted his weight from one side to the other.

Ana stole a quick glance at the sailor crew she’d spotted earlier. They didn’t look like they’d be leaving anytime soon. “A few minutes, then,” she relented.

“Ah, that’s the spirit!” Kick raised his mug in toast, wisely not waiting for her to respond in kind before bringing it to his lips. He let out a content sigh as he came up for air. “How’s work then, eh?”

“It’s working.”

Kick arched a brow. “Two words? That’s all I get?”

Again, Ana rolled her eyes. “If I had a job, Kick, I wouldn’t tell you about it anyways. We’re competitors.”

“Bah! There’s plenty of work to go around, you crazy bat.” He pulled out a folded paper, slapping it down onto the table. “Here, check this out. You hear about those Gifted over in Heighton?”

Buck. Ana let her eyes fall to the paper as it unfolded, revealing the image of a pretty unicorn mare with a swirling mane. The picture was done in shades of grey, but small text beneath it detailed the mare’s description. White coat, purple mane, blue eyes. Gifted, cutie mark unknown. Extreme magical adept. Countess Rarity, wanted alive. Approach with care.

“Who hasn’t?” she said, pulling her gaze from the paper with the practiced nonchalance of an experienced liar. “You getting caught up in that clusterbuck?”

“Everyone who’s anyone is.” Kick smirked, folding the paper back up and sticking it into his vest. “That’s good money, Bats. To be frank, I’m surprised you and your bird haven’t already snatched one up.”

Ana shrugged. “There’s a certain charm to working without having a hundred hungry hunters breathing down your neck.” She stirred a fork in her drink, watching the liquid swirl about.

“Hey, I won’t complain if you’re sitting out,” Kick said. “I’d hate to draw your bird’s ire. It’d be worth it, but it’d be damn inconvenient.”

They sat in silence for several seconds. Ana sipped at her drink. Kick’s smile began to falter as his companion’s fidgeting became more frequent.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint.” Kick finished his drink, leaving the empty mug on the table as he stood. “Say hi to your bird for me, eh? Hope you don’t mind covering the drink.”

Ana gave a shallow nod, but said nothing. They both knew that she had a habit of procuring bits out of thin air. Kick would probably check his coin purse as soon as he was out of sight, despite her hooves being on the table throughout the whole conversation. She enjoyed the reputation. She liked the way that ponies carried themselves around her, as if she were some mastermind with an extra set of invisible hooves. Most of her did, at least.

Kick beckoned to his friend, and the two of them stepped away. She followed them with her eyes as they settled in at another table with four other earth ponies, each one sporting the same thick bodies and hardened barding. She would have to be more careful. If they figured out that she was following a mark, they would no doubt take a closer look. And if they discovered that she had the same target as them, then things could swiftly become inconvenient.

The sailors she had overheard were still chatting over their dice. It would be too obvious if she waited to follow them out into the street, so she finished her drink and stood up. She licked her lips, pulling out a few bits and leaving them on the table.

She sighed as she stepped out into the street, stretching out cramped legs as the wind toyed with her mane. She spread her wings and took to the sky in search of a warm breeze to carry her weight for a while. Those sailors would finish drinking eventually. She’d be ready to follow them home.

“Twilight!”

“Twilight, help!”

The voices of her parents echoed at her from the darkness. Twilight turned a circle, wide eyes failing to pierce the black veil that surrounded her.

“Where are you?” she called. “Please, I don’t know where you are!”

“Over here, Twilight!” Apple Bloom’s voice came to her as if from a great distance. The faint cries of Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle mixed together beneath it.

“I’m coming!” Twilight splashed through the water around her hooves as she sprinted towards the voice. Was she even moving? She didn’t feel any wind on her face, and their voices weren’t getting any louder. “Hang on!”

The water rose higher around her legs. She found herself grunting as she pushed through a thick sludge that tugged at her chest fur. Looking down, she saw the eyes of her reflection framed in weeping red stains.

Her reflection bared its teeth at her. Hello.

“Twilight? Hey, Twi. Wow, they really weren’t kidding.”

Twilight started as she woke up. She blinked the image of her own grinning face away as she pulled her head off the smooth paper pillow she’d been resting on. “Wh—huh?”

Star Trails snickered at her from behind a hoof. “Stars, AJ said you’d have a funny look on your face, but I didn’t think it’d be a gem like that.”

Twilight shook herself, rubbing at her eyes with a hoof. She felt her cheeks warming as the snicker escalated into a barely-contained chuckle. “What do you want?”

Trails let out a breath, finally calming down. “Phew. We’re all having a little party over in the galley. I thought I’d come invite you over. Your friends all said you’d be sleeping on a book, but I had kinda thought it was just a joke.”

Twilight blinked. She looked down at her pillow, realizing that it was actually a heavy book splayed out on the floor in front of her. She grimaced at the spot where her drool had stained the paper, distorting the small print. She was quick to remove the stain with a flick of well-known magic. “A party? What for?”

“Oh, nothing,” Trails said. “Just, y’know, sending Gava limping off with a bunch of holes in her ship and a bigger one in her pride. Finding a long-dead alicorn princess. Baking some fudge brownies. No reason.” She smirked down at Twilight.

“I don’t feel like partying,” Twilight said. She flipped the book closed, checking the title. A Comprehensive History of the Empty Thrones. “I have work to do.” She went to open it again, only to have Trail’s press down on the cover with a hoof.

“So we all keep hearing,” she said. “C’mon, Twilight. Just come hang out for a few minutes. Would that really be so bad? I might not come back here much, but you’ve got your nose in a different book everytime I do. At least come eat something.”

Twilight’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. She frowned, looking to her side. She was in the cargo hold, with a mess of books and notes scattered around her right side and the sleeping form of Princess Luna curled up on a mattress to her left. She couldn’t even remember what she had been doing when she fell asleep.

She sighed, standing up. Her bones had begun to ache from lack of activity. If she took some time to eat something, her train of thought would probably come back to her. “Fine. But only for a little bit. This is important research.”

Trails grinned. “Sweet. C’mon.” She turned, beckoning with a sweep of her tail as she started for the door to the hall. “Say, I was meaning to ask your friends but never got around to it. Did they have brownies in your time?”

Ana watched from above, taking careful note of the ponies milling about the deck of the Lucky Coin. It was a cargo hauler by design, with a deep pit in the center of the deck filled with stacked crates and barrels. A tarp could be rolled out to cover them in case of bad weather, but for now the cargo pit was exposed to the afternoon sun, leaving her free to watch the crew guiding the dock crane as it filled the hold.

She was seated on a support strut running along the bottom of an airship, tucked against the hull and shaded by a tethered balloon. She took the last bite out of a peach before cocking her foreleg back and chucking the remains off into the waters far, far below.

After tailing the sailors back to their ship, she had spent the last couple hours watching from on high. The constant air traffic of Straterra made her perch an excellent observation point. With the exception of the Gifted and those who often worked with them, ponies rarely thought to look up.

She needed to find out where that ship was going.

There were a few possible approaches. She could eavesdrop on the crew, but that would risk tipping off Kick and his gang. The smarter thing would probably be to sneak into the port authority and check the manifests. She didn’t think there were any Gifted on the payroll, so it shouldn’t be a difficult job.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a mare with a ridiculously wide-brimmed, pale pink hat stepping out onto the deck. The hat was so large that she couldn’t see anything but the mare’s swirling purple tail.

A shockingly pink mare bounced out just a second later, all but confirming Ana’s suspicions. Countess Rarity and Pinkie spent a couple minutes talking to some sailors before walking out onto the pier. They made for the town at a leisurely pace, smiling as they talked among themselves.

Ana grimaced. There were bounty hunters looking for those mares right now, in that very town, and they were waltzing through the streets without a care in the world. That was her target, her money, walking through a minefield.

She shifted her weight, letting herself fall. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of the wind tugging at her ears, before spreading her leathery wings and pulling into a glide. No doubt a few curious eyes saw her descent, but from this distance she was just another Gifted. A rare sight, but not one to comment on.

She landed on the roof of a warehouse near the docks. The Countess and Pinkie hadn’t seen her. The chatter of the crowd made it impossible to understand what they were saying, so Ana settled for shadowing them through the streets. If any other hunters tried anything, she’d be there to see and, if necessary, intervene.

It was about ten minutes later that a better idea came to her.

Gauging their heading, Ana flew up ahead of them. She dropped down into an alley out of their sight. She scooped up some dirt that had collected in a pothole and rubbed it into her cheeks for maximum pity, then settled in to wait. Nobody spared her a single glance.

It didn’t take long for the shrill voice of Pinkie Pie to become clear from the surrounding drone.

“Can we get something to eat, Rarity? I’m hungry, and those cupcakes look both scrumdiddly and umptious!”

“We can eat in a bit, darling. I’m not setting one hoof on Altalusia without a proper wardrobe.”

Altalusia, huh? It rang a bell. Ana knew it was a baronland of some description, but nothing more. Still, the name would be a great help for what came next.

Doing her best impression of a shivering refugee, Ana stepped out into the street and turned towards the Countess’ voice.

“Rarity, watch out!”

Ana let out a surprised grunt as she bumped into the Countess. She threw herself back and down, sprawling out onto the hard floor. “Ow!”

“Oh, heavens,” the Countess gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

Ana squinted up at the other mare, pretending to take a moment to recognize her. “Wh—Auntie Rarity? Auntie Pinkie?”

“Oh, I remember you!” Pinkie said. She beamed as she helped Ana up. “You know Auntie Pinkie never forgets a face!”

“Goodness, look at you!” Rarity grimaced as she pulled out a cloth to rub at the dirt smudged into Ana’s cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Ana pushed the invading hoof aside, making as if to step around the two. “Sorry for bumping into you, Auntie. I shoulda been watching where I was going.”

“I insist that the blame is on me,” Rarity countered, stepping in her way. “Can we help you at all, darling? You look somewhat distressed.”

Ana gave her a narrow smile. She let it drop quickly, as if it took a great deal of energy out of her. “I’m fine, Auntie. Really, you’ve done enough already. I’m just worried about getting back home.”

The two mares exchanged concerned glances. “What about Captain Breezie?” Pinkie asked.

A storm passed over Rarity’s face. She leaned closer to Ana, her voice taking on a dangerous timbre. “Did she send you away? I swear, as Celestia is my witness, if that mare—”

Ana raised her hooves, waving the anger away. “No, nothing like that! Really, Captain Breeze is great. It’s just that I didn’t want to go to Heighton. I have family in Altalusia, and I just know they won’t be able to sleep at nights until they see me again.”

“Altalusia?” Rarity echoed.

“Oh, hey! That’s where we’re going!” Pinkie began to bounce in place, ignoring the looks drawn by the crowd. “You should ask Captain Mercante for a ride.” She stopped bouncing as she sucked in a deep breath. Ana took a step back, wondering if the pink mare was in the midst of a sudden stroke. “We can be bunk buddies!”

It was exactly what she’d been hoping for, yet Ana frowned. There was a part of her which urgently whispered that no amount of money would be worth bunking with Pinkie Pie. She hushed that part of her. Gava was relying on her. “I don’t know, Auntie Pinkie. I don’t really have any money for a room.”

The Countess let out a series of high-pitched titters. “Oh, don’t you fret, dear. I’m certain the good captain won’t mind an extra body. Pinkie and I can share a cabin, and you can have the other.” She smiled, tossing her mane. “Celestia knows that you’ll appreciate having some privacy again.”

Ana blinked. That had gone much smoother than expected. She’d barely even had to ask.

She filed the thought away for later, plastering grateful relief all over her face. “Oh, thank you! Well—are you sure it isn’t too much trouble? I wouldn’t want to—”

“Enough of that, now. Goodness, I don’t think I even know your name!” Rarity let out a soft chuckle. “Pardon me, miss?”

Ana opened her mouth to answer, only to find her name coming in the wrong voice.

“Ana!” Pinkie said. She grinned at Ana. The grin was that of either a child excited at getting a question right or a chessmaster playing the final move. “Isn’t that right, sleepybat?”

“Uh, yeah.” Ana forced a smile over her surprise. I must have told her my name on the Ambrosia. That has to be it. “That’s me.”

“Well, Ana, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The Countess dipped into a prim curtsey. “Now that that’s settled, we simply must discuss your couture.”

Ana drew a blank. The puzzlement on her face was perhaps the first genuine emotion she’d displayed throughout the conversation. “My what?”

Pinkie blew a loud raspberry, squeezing her eyes shut exaggeratedly. “She’s talking about clothes! She always uses those fancy schmancy words for clothes.”

Rarity nodded as if it was obvious. Her giant hat bobbed with the motion. “Why don’t we walk and talk, dears? The street isn’t the best place for idle chatter, after all!”

As if to prove her point, a pair of carts laden with goods rolled past, the clack and clatter of the wheels echoing off the surrounding buildings. The Countess started down the street with a precise step, and Pinkie followed with a snort and a giggle.

Ana fell in beside them. “Auntie Rarity, I don’t have a, uh… couture.”

“And therein lies the problem, of course,” Rarity said. She scanned the signs of passing storefronts as they walked. “How could a lady of fashion such as myself ever be expected to allow such an inspiring figure to go on unadorned?”

Ana cocked her head. Is she… coming on to me?

Rarity continued speaking, oblivious to her confusion. “The nocturnal grace, the feral stance, the dusky tones! I’ve always been inspired by the mysterious beauty of thestrals, you know, but you’re the first I’ve had the chance to really look at up close.” She looked back at Ana with an eager smile. “You absolutely must let me make a dress for you.”

“You want to… make me a dress?” Ana asked. “But I don’t have any bits.” Or rather, I don’t feel like going and taking someone else’s for a new set of fancy clothes.

“The opportunity is payment enough,” Rarity insisted, turning her eyes back to the passing buildings. “I won’t accept any argument on the matter! We’re looking for new fabrics, anyways. I need to expand my own wardrobe as well, you see.” She shot a sweet smile back towards Ana. “I hope you won’t mind accompanying us?”

What are you playing at, Countess? Ana had spent time around royalty before, and they were nearly worse than politicians when it came to forcing people into their greedy hooves. But Ana was the predator here, not the prey. She didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to get pulled into this mare’s plots. If all she had to do to get into her inner circle was accept a free dress, then she’d do it.

Ana smiled back. “I’d love to, Auntie.”

Twilight stared down into her mug. Was there something staring back at her?

“What’s up, Twi?” Rainbow asked, hitting her shoulder with a light punch. “That cider reciting world secrets or something?”

“It damn well better not be,” Flint said from across the table. Twilight looked up to see him narrowing his eyes at her mug like some disappointed uncle. “Th’ brew might reveal th’ truths of the world, but it ain’t supposed to give ‘em up ‘til ye drunk it.”

“Drank,” Twilight corrected.

“Wha?” Flint cocked a brow.

“The word you mean to use is ‘drank’,’” Twilight said. “‘Drunk’ is the past participle conjugation. You should be using the simple past tense form.”

“Filly, are ye tryin’ t’ tell me that ye been asleep fer a thousand years and ye know my grammar better than me?”

“Well…” Twilight tapped a hoof against her mug, thinking. “Actually, that’s an interesting question.”

Dusty Tome was nodding to himself from where he stood, leaned against the kitchenette counter. He had been reading a book for much of the party, but taken the time to mark his page and close it. “Language changes over time, after all,” he said. “And wouldn’t most speakers say that the version they grew up with is what’s correct?”

“Meaning that the ‘true’ version of any language, from a certain perspective, would be the one originally spoken,” Twilight said. “But then how do you define the exact point when a dialect becomes its own language?”

“Stop!” Star Trails jumped in front of Dusty, blocking his view of Twilight. “By the waves, this is supposed to be a party! You two eggheads get a room if you want to debate grammar or whatever.”

Dusty poked his head around her shoulder. “But we weren’t debating.”

“Not yet, anyways,” Twilight said.

“Music change!” Rainbow shot out of her seat. She looked around the room. “C’mon, what’s another good record? Have you guys got any rock?”

They were all gathered in the combination dining room and kitchen that served as a lounge aboard the Argo. A keg of cider occupied one end of the table, a spigot driven into its side. Hay fries and fresh-baked brownies sat on a plate beside it. Sea Sabre fished through a shelf of records before picking out a disc and holding it out to the other pegasus.

Rainbow took it with a nod of thanks, swapping it out for the old record and setting the needle down onto the disc. A quick drum beat filled the room, joined soon after by the rest of the band.

“At risk of startin’ more of that,” Applejack began, “I gotta say this is some mighty good cider, Flint. Y’all say this is homemade?”

“Damn right.” Flint pounded a proud hoof against his chest. “My family’s been brewin’ their own drink since before th’ waters! It’s a drink fit fer royalty, which is why we make sure that none of th’ bastards ever get any!” He slapped Applejack’s shoulder as he laughed, and she let out a little chuckle of her own before lifting her mug to her lips.

Twilight passed some time by watching Rainbow dancing in the limited airspace above the table. She couldn’t help but tap a hoof along to the rhythm herself. She had the urge to gather her friends together and start up a conga line, just like they used to do back in Ponyville at nearly every party Pinkie ever threw. It would seem wrong to do it without the whole group, though.

Satisfied that the crisis was averted, Trails relaxed into a seat at the table. She grabbed a brownie and took a bite. “Y’know what I’ve been wondering?” she began. “What exactly did you ponies do?”

“Huh?” Rainbow asked, pausing her dance mid-roll. She hung in the air upside down as she cocked her head.

“I mean, look at that!” Trails said, gesturing at the pegasus with her brownie. “How the hay do you hover upside down? And you!” She pointed the brownie at Fluttershy, who shrank back into the corner of the room she’d been sitting in. “You stared down a sea serpent!”

“Are you asking what we did for a living?” Twilight asked. “Like our jobs?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Trails nodded, brownie crumbs collecting on the table in front of her. “Were you some kind of beast master back in your day, Fluttershy?”

“Well, I suppose that would be, um, technically accurate,” Fluttershy said. She tapped a hoof at her chin. “Although I don’t think my furry friends would like being called beasts, and I never thought of myself as their master.”

“I think ‘animal friend’ carries a much more accurate connotation,” Twilight added.

“Yeah, her cottage was a total zoo,” Rainbow said, righting herself and landing on the table. She scooped up a brownie with one wing.

“Not a zoo,” Fluttershy insisted. She hid behind her mane as the groups attention shifted back to her. “Um, that is, zoos aren’t very nice. All I did was open my home to the local woodland critters, really.”

Flint narrowed his eyes at her. “And that’s how ye learned how t’ stare down sea serpents?”

“Well, I really only used The Stare when someone was being really, really, bad,” Fluttershy said. “Celestia knows the chickens would hardly do a thing without it.”

“Chickens, eh?” Flint leaned back, seeming to lose interest.

“Fluttershy, you need to come see me later for bragging lessons,” Rainbow said. She flew over to Flint’s side and nudged him with a leg. “She stared down this huge red dragon once.”

“Dragon?” Flint echoed, leaning back in.

Rainbow grinned. “Sent the big guy crying home to his mommy with a few stern words.”

Fluttershy fidgeted in place. She let out a heavy sigh. “Rainbow, you know I don’t like to brag.”

“That’s not really bragging, Fluttershy,” Trails said. She gave a few slow shakes of her head, looking down at the last bite of her brownie. “A dragon.”

“You think that’s impressive?” Rainbow’s chest swelled as she pumped herself up, pounding a hoof against her side. “Have you ever heard of the legendary Sonic Rainboom?”

Dusty frowned. “But you already told us about that.”

“I’ve heard the story twice, actually,” Trails added, raising a hoof.

“So?” Rainbow dropped down into a chair. She looked up, striking a pose. “It’s an awesome story every time you hear it.”

“Hang on, hang on.” There was a thud as Flint pushed his mug away and leaned forwards. “Ye sayin’ ye can pull off a Sonic Rainboom?”

Trails turned sharply to face him, blinking in surprise. “Wh—she’s told us this story!”

“First I’ve heard of it,” he countered.

A triumphant grin broke across Rainbow’s face. She struck another pose, opening her mouth to begin the story, only for Trails to speak first.

“I have personally seen her tell you this story,” the unicorn said, her voice firm.

“Bah!” Flint waved her off with a hoof. “Name one time!”

“On the dive to Ponyville,” Trails said. “She spent ten minutes on it, and you said it was ‘pretty alright.’”

Several seconds passed while the two crewmates stared each other down, the skepticism in Flint’s eyes meeting the determination in Trails’. Twilight looked from one to the other. She slowly levitated a brownie off the table and took a bite.

“Wait a minute.” Rainbow’s voice cracked when she broke the silence. She flew right up to Flint, sticking her muzzle in his face. “Are you telling me you weren’t even listening?”

Flint pushed her back with a meaty hoof. “Are ye tellin’ me ye thought I was?”

“Of course I did!” Rainbow said. She threw her hooves up with exasperation. “You nodded and made noises and said it was alright and everything!”

Dusty cleared his throat, grabbing the mare’s attention. “For future reference, Rainbow Dash, that means he isn’t listening.”

“Ugh, whatever!” Rainbow plopped down into her seat once more. She crossed her hooves, sulking.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the record shifted into a new song. A slow jazz rock rhythm filled the room. Twilight finished her brownie.

“Damn impressive, though,” Flint said.

Rainbow’s pout twisted into a little grin.

“So what about the rest of you?” Trails asked, her eyes shifting first to Applejack, then Twilight. “We’ve got Fluttershy the beast master and Rainbow Dash the speedster. What are your great mythic feats?”

“Uh… shoot.” Applejack screwed her eyes up. She tapped a hoof against the table in thought. “To be honest, y’all, I kinda just worked my farm and grew apples. Twilight’s the real impressive one.”

Twilight blushed. She looked down at her drink. Her reflection didn’t talk to her. “All I did was read books and cast spells, Applejack.”

“Come on now, sugar cube. Y’all did way more ‘n that,” Applejack insisted.

Fluttershy’s soft voice was difficult to make out over the music playing. “There was that time you brainwashed the entire town into fighting over your childhood doll.”

The music came to an abrupt stop. An actual record scratch? Celestia save me. Twilight turned to see Sea Sabre steadying the phonograph with a hoof. If the normally aloof pegasus’ eyes were any indication, she’d bumped into it in shock.

A soft scraping sound traveled across the little galley as the record spun in place. Twilight lifted the mug to her lips in an attempt to hide the furious blush on her cheeks.

“What was his name, again?” Fluttershy’s innocent voice continued. “Smarty Pants?”

Trails slapped a hoof onto the table. A few tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she laughed.

When Twilight finally ran out of cider and let her mug down once more, she was faced with Flint staring at her in a strange mixture of confusion and awe.

“What th’ buck?”

Twilight stared hard at the bottom of her empty mug. She couldn’t remember any invisibility spells, but she did know a shrinkage spell that would let her crawl into it and hide instead.

For the fifth time, Ana followed Pinkie and the Countess out of a clothing shop with empty hooves.

“Those fabrics all looked fine to me,” Ana said. “So did the ones at the last store, for that matter.”

“That’s what I always say, too,” Pinkie said. “But the clothes I make usually come out all raggedy and pink. What’s that word you like to use, Rarity?”

Rarity looked up and down the street before picking a direction to start down. “Garish, darling.”

“Garish, that’s it!” Pinkie gave a few big nods as she began to bounce after the other mare. “So unless you want a garish culture, you should probably listen to what she says. Rarity really knows her clothes!”

Ana blinked. “You make clothes too?” She broke into a trot to catch up with the other two mares.

Pinkie giggled. “I try, sometimes!”

“Proper fabric makes the difference between clothes and art, dears,” the Countess said. “And although I could settle for making clothes, I certainly won’t let a bit of walking keep me from art!” She hummed to herself as an airship passed in front of the setting sun, dropping the orange street into its shadow. “And besides, it’s been too long since I had the chance to enjoy some proper shopping.”

“I’ve never considered shopping to be more than a chore,” Ana muttered.

The Countess said something in response. It was probably something about introducing Ana to ‘proper shopping’ or another burst of inspired artistry, but Ana didn’t hear it. She was far more focused on the familiar armored stallion approaching from down the street, and the half-dozen ponies flanking him.

Ana swept her eyes across the street in search of an exit. If Kick saw them, then things could get complicated. She had no doubt that he would try to grab Pinkie and the Countess right off the street. Worse yet, he might reveal to them Ana’s true identity.

There were no alleys close enough for escape. No convenient crowds to get lost in or wagons to walk behind. She was short on options.

“This place looks pretty good,” Ana said, interrupting something Pinkie was saying about an itch on her knee. She nodded at an unlabeled storefront. If not for the OPEN sign hanging on the door by a single frayed cord, she would have probably thought it was a home.

“Oh, uhm, is that so?” Rarity asked, eyeing the chipped white paint, faded into grey.

Ana shrugged, stealing a glance towards Kick. One of his underlings was squinting in her direction. Ah, buck. “I’ve got a hunch. I thought you liked shopping?”

Rarity waved a hoof as she giggled. “Oh, well I suppose as long as you’re getting into the spirit we might as well give it a try.”

Ana didn’t waste any time in opening the door. A jingling bell was just barely audible over the din of the crowd. She ushered the mares in as Rarity continued to talk.

“Who knows, maybe it’ll turn out—oh, goodness.”

Ana closed the door behind her as she brought up the rear. She turned to scan the room, and found that her excuse of a hunch might turn out to be true after all. Rolls of colored fabric sat on neat rows on angled shelves, weaving through the warm-lit room like a rainbow river. A single surprised mare watched them from behind the counter, flanked by an array of needles, scissors, knives, and other sewing tools.

“Uh, hi there,” the mare behind the counter said, blinking away her shock. “Can I… help you?”

“Do you know, I think you just might be the exact mare we’ve been looking for.” Rarity shot a giddy smile Ana’s way, her forehooves bouncing with excitement. “You’ve got quite the eye, darling.”

Ana responded with a brief nod before turning her attention back to the store. It was a cramped affair, the whole thing giving the impression of a larger front squeezed into a small space. There were only five shelves, including the two on the walls, but each one was wide enough to hold rolls of fabric over a meter long. The tight quarters wouldn’t favor her over the burly earth ponies of Kick’s squad, but perhaps they hadn’t seen her in time.

If not, then the question became one of how hard to fight.

Ana’s view of the door was blocked by a shelf of fabrics ranging from a deep blue to a pale green, but she still stiffened when she heard the jingling that signaled its opening. Heavy hooves in heavy shoes stepped inside.

“Hey there, pretty mares.”

“Oh, good evening, gentlecolts.”

“Hiya, guys!”

“Can I help you… all?”

Ana the bounty hunter was an experienced close quarters combatant that, in a tight space, could provide a challenge even for a group of six earth pony mercenaries. Ana the refugee, however, should be a frightened and helpless thing. If her targets saw too much of her true self, she might have to move up her timetable.

But perhaps there was a bright side. Her two targets were supposedly some of the most powerful Gifted to set hoof on dry land in centuries. It was this uncertainty that had kept Ana from ambushing them in a clothing store already. Maybe this was an opportunity to see just how well they could defend themselves

More heavy hooves filed inside. She could hear them spreading out to block the door. The bell jingled one last time as the door was deliberately closed.

One of Kick’s underlings stepped into sight, looking down her aisle. It was the young one from the bar. His eyes widened as he saw her standing there. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strained croak.

Ana bared her teeth. “Hey, kid.”

Rarity didn’t like the look of these stallions. They eyed her and Pinkie with hungry gazes, and they were hardly dressed for an afternoon stroll. Sea Sabre had told them that every public appearance painted a new target on their backs, but she had nearly forgotten the warning by now.

A gang of bounty hunters interrupting a nice, relaxing shopping trip was a rather abrupt reminder, she thought.

She stood taller, letting the brim of her hat slide back so she could meet the leader’s gaze without interruption. She was a countess, after all.

The gruff earth stallion looked her over top to bottom, his jaw shuffling side to side as he chewed something.

Pinkie leaned in to Rarity’s ear, whispering loud enough for the whole room to hear her. “Rarity, he looks hungry! I told you we should have stopped to eat!”

Rarity sighed. And it was shaping up to be such a theatrical moment, too.

“I get the idea you know what’s going on here, Countess,” the stallion said, a laughing grin pulling at the corner of his lips. “So why don’t you come with us quiet, and we won’t have to ruin this nice filly’s store.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” the counter mare shouted. Rarity and the stallion both jumped. They turned to watch the young pony slam her hooves into the countertop. “Two months seeing nopony but the same tired old mares crocheting hats for their grandfoals! Here I thought my luck might be changing, but no! Just bounty hunters coming in to do their business! Bah!”

The mare flung her hooves up before stepping out from behind the counter. She stomped past Rarity and Pinkie, even causing the bounty hunters that towered over her to flinch back as she approached.

“Just buck it all, then!” the mare shouted. “I’m going out for dinner!”

She shoved the lead hunter aside, opened the door, and slammed it closed behind her. Her frenzied shouts faded into the distance.

Rarity and the lead hunter met each other’s gazes once more.

“Well, since I suppose that’s settled,” he said. “Hard way, or easy way?”

Pinkie Pie growled at him, her tail twitching. Rarity’s heart fluttered in her chest. Was it already time for the beautiful countess to defend herself from a gang of ignoble rogues? She would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid, but she was comforted by her surroundings. Her magic was its very best when working with fabric.

If she were being quite honest, the question at the forefront of her mind just then was which colors she would have to ruin.

She flicked her horn to the right, grabbing a roll of cloth off the shelves with her magic. It was a fetching pale blue that she felt would compliment Ana’s eyes nicely, and if she was going to have pay for it anyways, then she wanted something she liked. On the other side of the shelf she caught a brief glimpse of Ana staring down a younger stallion. Rarity had just enough time to feel the chill from the thestral’s glare before she ripped a section from the roll and tossed it at the lead hunter.

The stallion sputtered as the cloth tightened around his face, compelled by her magic. Rarity shoved herself into his armored chest with all her strength, and a high-pitched “Oof!” escaped her as she bounced off and landed on her rump.

The hunter tore the cloth from his face with a furious roar, all the more fearsome for the way he glared down at her. He reached out with his thick legs and grabbed her, pressing his weight down onto her back and sending her hat flying.

“Get off me, you ruffian!” Rarity’s eye scanned the shelves. She spotted a pleasant soft pink that would do well as some contrasting highlights for Ana and flung the entire roll at the stallion.

Cloth was soft, but Rarity knew from experience how hard a full roll could hit. The stallion’s roar cut off with a yelp as he fell off her, and it only took Rarity three quick seconds to wrap his limbs in a gorgeous pink bow that clashed horribly with everything about him.

Her heart was pounding so loud that she could barely hear anything. Something nagged at her as she stared at the stallion struggling in vain against his bonds.

Hard shoes kicked her in the side, and as she collapsed against the adjacent shelf she remembered that there was more than one bounty hunter.

She lit her horn as she rolled onto her back, spotting her new assailant brandishing the ends of a chain in his hooves. He reared up and slammed his hooves into the shelf on either side of her, and Rarity let out a rising shriek as she, the stallion, and the shelf all fell backwards.

A roll of cloth smacked into her horn, shorting out her magic. She tried again, only for the stallion to headbutt her and break her concentration once more.

“Sorry, miss,” the stallion growled, grunting as he struggled to pin her legs against her belly. “No magic!”

“Uncouth barbarian!” Rarity shot back. She clenched her jaw as she pulled her head back and slammed it into his. Her vision burst into stars at the impact, but the weight pressing down her lightened. Her magic reached out, grabbing the fabrics that had fallen around her and throwing them all in the vague direction of her attacker.

Rarity was vaguely aware of Pinkie singing a song somewhere nearby. She sounded happy. There was a great deal of shouting, too, which didn’t sound nearly as happy.

Rarity’s chest heaved as she clambered to her hooves, sucking in a deep breath. At the same time she saw the chain-bearing stallion tearing himself loose from the pile of heavy cloth she’d thrown onto him.

She gasped as one of the fabrics, a hideous off orange-brown, was torn in two by his strength. “No! You monster!” She grabbed the torn fragments in her magic and wadded them up, using them like bludgeons as she pummeled him. “What am I supposed to do with fulvous? Fulvous doesn’t go with anypony!”

The stallion’s armor was tough, but it left his face bare to her righteous fury. He flinched back from the power of the onslaught, and her magic transformed the fulvous fists into a set of bindings that matched only with his terrible sense of fashion.

“Rarity, look out!”

Pinkie’s voice cut through the haze. Rarity ducked on instinct, only to be struck square in the rear by a heavy object that let out a deep-voiced, “Oof!”

“Ugh!” Rarity bounced into the shelf in front of her, driving it into a ponderous tumble. Fabric rained down on top of her. “Agh! Stop bumping into me, you brutes!”

Rarity roared as she burst out of the pile of cloth, her magic gripping each one like fabulous clubs. Her narrowed eyes locked onto the three bounty hunters picking themselves up around Pinkie. The other mare watched her with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open.

One of the hunters gathered himself enough to toss a punch at Pinkie. Her leg twitched, and she danced out of the way without looking. Her shock at Rarity’s outburst gave way to a characteristic gigglesnort as the stallion tripped over her tail and landed in a pile of fuchsia cloth.

“Mismatched troglodytes!” Rarity let loose with her rainbow arsenal.

The remaining bounty hunters were helpless against the sheer mass of attacks that came at them. They could each dodge a few swings and absorb a couple blows, but they only lasted seconds before falling to the floor and covering their heads with their hooves. The pale blue glow of Rarity’s magic cast dark shadows over their faces as their legs were bound with elaborate knots.

Rarity could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She stood with legs spread wide in the middle of the store, surrounded by the chaos of broken shelving and unrolled cloth.

“Wow, Rarity,” Pinkie chirped. “You really let loose!”

Rarity took a deep breath. A lady must not lose her temper! Slowly, she released her grip on her textile weaponry. She closed her eyes and cleared her throat. She pushed out a polite, “Apologies, darling. Sometimes the situation just… gets the better of me.”

A wooden creaking came from behind her. Rarity’s calming pulse accelerated once more as she twirled about, grabbing a roll of cherry-red cloth in her magic.

The last standing shelf groaned as it fell over. A wide-eyed Ana stared at the two Gifted mares. A younger bounty hunter rolled on the ground at her hooves, groaning.

The rage left Rarity in an instant. She dropped her bludgeon and rushed to the poor refugee’s side, all her anger forgotten in the wake of fresh concern. “Goodness, dear! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Ana blinked. She looked down to the groaning young hunter. “I’m fine, Auntie.” She met the Countess’ eyes once more and gave her a weak grin. “Got lucky, I guess.”

Lucky I didn’t try to take the two of you on myself, that is. The inexperienced bounty hunter had been taken care of in seconds. Ana had spent the last minute just watching her targets do an admirable job of defending themselves.

By Luna, that mare is a weapon. On one hoof, the Countess certainly didn’t come off as a threat when she was busy prancing through clothing stores or recoiling at every mote of dust that drifted into view. But on the other, Ana had just watched her swing a roll of soft cloth hard enough to knock down a muscled earth pony. And she could swing a lot of them. And the price on those heads will only go up once word gets out what they did here.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear it.” Rarity glared down at the young stallion on the floor. Her horn glowed, and some pieces of weird brown-orange cloth floated over to wrap his legs up. The mare held herself as if she were wrapping him with a rope she had pulled out of a sewer.

Ana looked over to Pinkie, who gave her a friendly wave. She hadn’t been able to see the bouncy Gifted for most of the fight, but she had seen how easily she dodged that punch. Without looking, even. There wasn’t a single scratch on her bright pink coat.

“Can we go eat now?” Pinkie asked. “I’ve really worked up an appetite!”

“Just hold on a bit longer, dear,” Rarity said, waving a hoof at Pinkie as she began to pick through the chaos of the shop. “I saw a few good colors during the fight, and I want to get them while I’m here.” She paused, glancing at the door. “We really should find that nice shopkeeper, too. I’ll have to compensate her for all the trouble.”

For a brief moment, Ana was struck with a powerful urge to run. These mares are dangerous. You’re out of your league.

She held herself firm, pushing the doubts down. She had hunted dangerous ponies before. With enough time to plan and observe, any obstacle could be overcome. It was just a matter of time and resources.

And she believed that she had just earned some very valuable trust.

Author's Notes:

Will Rarity and Pinkie discover the traitor in their midst? Will Ana's sinister plan go on without a hitch? And will Twilight actually be able to hide inside an empty cider mug?

Find out next time on Empty Horizons!

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