“...What you think down there?”

The three diamond dogs and the pegasus were crouched on the side of the hill, staring down into the small, black maw of a mysterious tunnel. Zanza hunkered down nearby, ears flicking nervously.

Having grass underneath her felt strange after so long in the ironwood forest. Here, atop the rise, there were only small, deciduous saplings, each barely taller than the diamond dogs. At least here there was green, though. But why that was, Zanza couldn’t possibly guess. Maybe the dragon liked having a nice-looking place to live?

A sudden rumbling noise filled the air, on the very edges of her hearing. At the hole, most of the diamond dogs leapt away as a blast of hot air shot forth, smelling of smoke and a strange, powerful spiciness. The younger one, with the dark fur and the battleaxe, had kept his head inside the hole. He pulled this back now, and the others laughed at his windswept appearance.

“You keep sticking nose in places it does not belong, you lose it eventually,” commented the female with the burlap sack.

“Is better than having other things stuck into me,” countered her packmate, grouchily rubbing his slightly-singed muzzle.

Daring Do, standing nearby, snickered at that.

Echo, meanwhile, was huddled at the edge of the hole, rummaging around in his pack, before removing a small strip of material and holding it above the void. Zanza watched, curious, as the strip of material changed colors rapidly, flashing like a rainbow. The Beta must have taken that as a sign for something, because he waved them all over, even her. He crouched next to Daring and began to speak through her.

“What we have here is a vent,” she explained. “It’s used to prevent the air inside from getting stale. You all make these when digging out larger dens for yourselves. There should be more scattered around the hillside.”

The female with the sack raised a paw. “Why do we care about this?”

“We can tell a lot from how many vents a dragon’s hoard has. Usually the size of the actual hoard, and of the dragon living inside of it. In addition, we can exploit these as a weakness. Vixen, open up the bag.”

Vixen did so, upending the contents onto the ground with a satisfied sigh of relief. Zanza’s eyes widened in confusion at the objects now laying before them.

“Pinecones?” she asked blankly.

Sure enough, about a dozen ironwood pinecones, each the size of a small beach ball, lay in the sunlight. They had a sort of metallic sheen to them, and the edges of the ridges seemed particularly sharp. Zanza noted that a hole had been bored in each one, straight into the center.

Echo nodded and stepped forward, picking one off the ground. With some unseen signal, Daring Do reached into her saddlebag and removed a stick of something red, trailing a small string. Echo then inserted the stick into the hole, leaving nothing but the string dangling out.

He then promptly shoved the entire pinecone into the opening in the ground, plugging it up.

“...I don’t get it,” said the younger male.

“Maybe we block dragon’s airway?” suggested Vixen.

“Then what boomstick for?”

The male scratched his head. “For boom?”

Vixen smacked a paw to her face.

“No, what it in pinecone for!”

“For boom,” assured Daring Do. “Do you remember those explosions we heard last night during the fire? Those were the pinecones. We’re going to plug all the holes we can find, and then rig the cones to blow with the dynamite, and bring the entire roof of the cave down on top of the dragon.”

“Now?”

“No, not right now! This is the backup plan, in case things go awry.”

“Ooooohhh...” said both of the other diamond dogs.

“I’ll be staying up here with some matches at the ready. When Echo gives me the signal, I’ll light the fuse and fly to safety. Hopefully, you’ll make it out in time. Once I light it, you’ll have about half a minute until the roof comes down.”

“How you get signal if Beta is down in caves with us?”

Daring smirked.

“Trust me, I’ll get it. Now, we’ve got the surface reconnaissance done, you all need to get back to the pack and meet up with Ginger for the raid. I’ll stay here and set these charges. Everypony got it?” A collective nod went around the group, with exception of Zanza, who raised a hoof.

“Um...what should I do?”

Echo scratched his chin with a finger, before perking up. “You’ll stay here with Daring Do and assist her in any way you can,” he told her as he brushed by. Zanza shivered a little, still getting used to the fact that his mouth never moved when he spoke. “Listen and learn as much as you can, young one, and I’ll be making good on my promise in no time at all.”

Then the big diamond dog padded silently off, his two packmates close on his heels. They soon dropped below the hill and were lost to sight. Zanza trotted back over to the pegasus, who was busy rummaging around in her saddlebags, pulling out a tangled mess of wire. “Hey, kiddo, help me out with this rat’s nest,” she said.

Zanza, who had taken hold of the mess, abruptly dropped it and sprang away. “Rats?”

“Figure of speech. There’s no rats. Sorry. I forgot that zebras use different phrases for things.” Daring picked up the pile and began to untangle it. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the Zavannah.” She flashed Zanza a smile. “Nice place to live, if you don’t mind roughing it.”

Zanza cautiously began to sort through her section of wire, still unsure of what to make of this odd pony. The pair fell quiet, working quickly. Daring would take the sections that Zanza untangled and fly off to the other vents, rigging up another explosive pinecone at the site. She then proceeded to connect all the lines into a single length, twisting it together like rope.

After a while, the silence began to gnaw at her.

“Can I ask you something?” she suddenly blurted

Daring looked up from where she was attaching a small box to the master line. “You just did,” she said with a grin. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Go ahead.”

“How did you end up here?”

That question seemed to give the pegasus pause.

“Like, here as in here, or here as in here?”

“Ummm...the second one. I think.”

Daring pressed a button on the box. A green light on the side began flashing red. “Well, I’d been exploring the jungle for a couple months, and I’d found an area that’d been almost completely untouched by ponykind, filled with ruins dating back a couple millenium. So, I staked it out, built myself a treehouse as the center of my expedition, and started digging.

“You wouldn’t believe the stuff I found, kiddo. Priceless gems, idols, carvings, knick-knacks, I found it all! Nopony else was good enough to handle the booby traps that these ruins were chock-full of, so it was just me out here all alone, sending back treasure after treasure to the universities that sponsored me. A couple years of doing that, and somepony decided to write a book series about some of my more dramatic adventures.” Daring Do rubbed the back of her neck. “Of course, they exaggerate quite a bit. But hey, bits are bits, and eventually I had enough to go freelance. That’s when things really began to pick up.”

Zanza found herself taking a seat beside the pegasus, who was sitting back and gesturing with her hooves as she spoke.

Daring went on to spin a grand tale. After amassing a small fortune from her exploits, she began to lean more towards archeology, rather than simple treasure hunting. Discovery became her passion, and instead of cleaning a ruin dry when she discovered it, she merely observed it, taking detailed notes and drawing about her discoveries. It became less about the treasure, and more about the actual ruins themselves.

She came to despise those who simply took, as she had once done. At one point, she ran into another explorer, who was seeking an item of great power for nefarious purposes. One who would grow to become her greatest nemesis.

“...Ahuitzotl?” whispered Zanza, who had read several of the books.

Daring Do nodded grimly. “He was the best. Intelligent, relentless, talented...not to mention well funded. But he was arrogant, and only cared about the money, and the power it bought him.”

She went on to describe how they had run into each other over the years. The catlord had begun hunting various mystical artifacts in an effort to harness their strange magic. And every time, Daring Do had been able to swoop in at the last moment and snatch it right out of his evil claws. It came to the point where saving the world from certain doom became a habit.

And then her luck ran out.

“It was the Gryphon’s Goblet that screwed me over,” said Daring. “It was the usual routine for us. I fall into trap, he does his monologue, I break out of trap, he calls in his goons, I steal the relic and get away. The difference was, this time I ended up cornered by a crocodile infested river and a busted wing.”

“What happened?”

“A certain somepony happened by,” she said cryptically, tossing a glance towards the outcrop in the distance. “And the rest is history. I’ll tell you more some other time. Ginger’s on the move.”

Zanza peered out over the landscape, spotting a thin column of dust rising. The pack was indeed on the move. Her heart skipped a beat.

“What do we do?”

“Right now? We’ve done our bit. If the signal comes, we light the fuse and I’ll fly you away. But in the meantime, we simply watch and wait.”

Zanza nodded. Her mohawk was prickling, standing out far straighter than usual. She kept having to trot in place or she’d fidget constantly.

Below, the plume of dust had reached the base. She could see the forms of the individual diamond dogs, each in their own distinctive apparel. The bright orange and yellow dot amongst them was Ginger Snap, leading the charge. The group streaked up the small rise to the great cleft in the side of the hill, pausing briefly, and then vanishing inside. The hill swallowed them up like a whale.

Zanza stepped away from the edge and paced about, unable to contain her anxiety. What was going on down there? Were her parents all right?

“Easy, kiddo,” said Daring. “Worrying never does anything but cause headaches.” She was easily reclining against a tree, her hooves behind her head. Her eyes were shut. For all the world, she could have been on vacation.

Zanza tried to relax. She really did. But the wild speculations of the goings-on down below proved too troublesome to shake off. She decided to take a closer look at the pinecone that’d been stuffed in the vent. It was a curious thing, dense and darkly colored. It almost looked like it was made of metal, and the edges that stuck out from the cone had an almost blade-like edge to them. Zanza poked it out of curiosity.

It wiggled, then vanished down the hole.

Zanza squeaked with surprise when it was replaced by something brown and furry that snaked out and latched onto her leg with a vicelike grip. She tried to wrench her way free, but the furry thing yanked her forward ‘till she teetered on the very edge of the pit.

“H-help!” she cried.

A dusky gold streak blurred her vision, and she felt the sickening sensation of falling. She twisted around, to see the world had gone black, save for a pinprick of light at the very top, where a horrified Daring Do was poised, having arrived a split second too late.

Something crunched into her head, and Zanza knew no more.

...Plink!

Zanza moaned, feeling herself slowly come to. Something wet splattered across her face. It tickled her nose, and she sneezed. Cold, miserable, and sore, Zanza staggered to her hooves and tried to figure out what exactly the buck just happened.

It was dark, wherever she was, and damp. She stumbled forward a few paces, only to bang her nose into something hard and metallic. She felt it out in the murky gloom. A grated surface, making up a wall. She reached out to the side, meeting solid rock.

Zanza hissed in despair when she realized where she was.

“A cage...”

Not so much a cage, more so a small, dead-end tunnel with a barred doorway. No matter what she called it, she was still trapped. Tears came to the filly’s eyes. In a wave of blind panic, she careened about her cell, slamming into the gate with as much force as her tiny form could muster. The bars wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard the sobbing zebra kicked them.

Exhausted from struggling for an unknown amount of time, she collapsed into a heap. She did not even have the strength left to cry. She felt spent, dried out, and utterly pitiful.

So much for being a grown-up, she thought. You’ve done it again, you stupid little foal. You’ll never see your family again. Zanza curled up into a ball and shivered. It wasn't just from the cold.

“And now for something completely random!”

Abruptly, the familiar figure of a pale alicorn in a colorful robe tumbled out of the ceiling and landed face-first onto the stone floor of the cell. Zanza scrambled backwards, getting out of the way of his flailing limbs.

Entropy giggled and fell still where he now lay on his back, staring at nothing. Zanza noted his eyes looked bloodshot.

“Heeeeeey,” he said. “Just thought I’d...drop in?” Mysteriously, a bad-dum, tsh! sound was heard, though the source of which Zanza could not identify. “Don’t worry, little lady, I’m here to rescue you. I think.”

Zanza sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you know what’s going on?” she pleaded.

“Yes. Of course. At the moment, we’re currently having tea with Mrs. Nezbit,” he replied. “Her arm keeps falling off, for some reason.” The alicorn cackled hysterically to himself. “Holy hell, I’m tripping. You know something? This place sucks. We should like, totally get out out of here.”

“How did I even end up in this cage?”

“Well, obviously, there’s more than just a dragon down here in the caves,” said Entropy as he picked himself up. “There’s a phrase about dragon’s lairs that is known amongst the bold and reckless.”

“What’s that?”

“‘The hoard will defend itself.’” Entropy turned and picked up a bench that was sitting by the wall and flipped it over, jamming the legs into the gaps between the metal grating. He pushed down on the raised end of the bench, and levered the entire door out and away with a single push. It crashed onto the stone hallway outside the cell with a mighty clang.

Zanza gaped at him. “H-how...did you...” She’d been hammering away at the thing for so long her hooves felt broken.

“Half-pin barrel hinges,” he replied seriously. “Oldest trick in the book. Now! We must flee, before they come to inspect the disturbance!”

“Who?”

“Why, whomever put you in here in the first place, my dear Watson.” Entropy’s horn alit and Zanza suddenly found herself being plopped unceremoniously across the alicorn’s back. He reared and swung his forelegs dramatically. “Hi ho, Silver, away!” He dropped back down. “Wait. You’re supposed to say that.”

“...”

“Well, go on, then.”

“Um, hi-ho, Silver...away?” she squeaked.

“THAT’S USIN’ YER DIPSTICK, JIMMY!”

With a bellowing war-cry, he began galloping full tilt down the hallway, Zanza clinging to his neck for dear life. The alicorn was thin and lanky, but he could move! Zanza had to squint from the wind.

The tunnels were built high and wide, lit regularly on the sides by gems embedded within wall-mounted sconces. The path they were hurtling downward splinted off at haphazard intervals, and the alicorn seemed to chose them at random, throwing them up, down, left and right into a different passage.

“Where are we going?” Zanza called over the rush of wind.

“We’re off to see the wizard!” Entropy yelled back.

“...Who?”

“Why, the wonderful wizard of Oz!”

With that, he lowered his horn and charged straight at a wall, and a pale light surrounded them at the last possible moment. Zanza covered her face with a hoof and screamed, waiting for the impact.

It never came.

She opened her eyes. They had somehow passed straight through the solid rock, emerging out onto the other side. They were now galloping hard across an enormous chamber that had a wide stone spire rising from the center, taller than the ironwoods in the forest, crested by a flattened top that was so high, Zanza could not make out what lay on top. A spiraling path snaked its way up the summit. She spied movement on this, a cluster of dots that looked a lot like...

“There they are!” she cried, pointed towards the rise.

Whoosh!

The alicorn’s mighty wings opened mid-stride and whipped down, catapulting them into the air with such acceleration it took her breath away. "ShadowClone Jutsu!" he cried. There was a loud popping noise, and twin clouds of smoke suddenly materialized on either side of his wings.

“Chhhk. This is Papa Smurf to squadron, come in, over,” said Entropy.

A flickering duplicate image of the alicorn emerged from the smoke beside them. “Chhhk. Smurf-2, reading you loud and clear, over.” Unbelievably, there was a shimmering zebra on his back, clinging desperately around his neck.

“Smurf-3. Chhhk. All systems go, let’s bag us some bogies, over,” said yet another apparition, complete with zebra rider.

“What?!” shrieked Zanza.

The back of Entropy’s head suddenly transformed into a panel, upon which a targeting system flickered to life. Through it, Zanza could see the figures upon the path, centered through the crosshairs.

“Whatever you do...press the red button!” cried Entropy.

Zanza blinked.

“Could you please explain to me what exactly the buck is going on, Mister Entropy?” she screamed. She doubted her brain would be able to last much longer with him around.

The alicorn huffed. “If you must know, our furry little friends are getting close to the actual hoard, but have run into a little snag. The dragon has a plethora of thralls in its service, just like all the others, and they aren't exactly happy about us stealing their master’s swag.”

Zanza gasped. “My parents would be among those slaves!”

“No, a dragon would keep them with the actual hoard until they tired of their newest plaything. What currently plagues us is brainwashed property of a kleptomaniacal fire-breathing tyrant lizard. Now, if you don’t mind, this is the part where I swoop into the rescue with guns blazing. So please, if you don't mind?”

Zanza peered through the panel again. She could make out the individual Cinderwings, holding a tight formation as they forced their way up the path against a tide of bodies. The dragon’s thralls; slaves.

She spied creatures of all kinds among the tangle of fighting. Ponies, diamond dogs, gryphons, minotaurs, donkeys, even a few zebras. Zanza lingered on those the longest, but none were familiar in the slightest.

Where were her parents?

And, more importantly, where was the dragon?

Entropy pumped hard and rocketed into the space of the cavern, flanked on either side by his flickering shades. They wheeled around the other side of the massive pillar.

“Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em how we do it in the old school, over,” said Entropy. “Fangs out!”

The phantasmic zebras riding alongside pressed a hoof into the back of the head of their alicorn. Zanza hesitated for a split second, then followed suit.

Entropy’s horn suddenly crackled to life, sparking with power. The crosshairs turned a bright red as they wheeled around and streaked towards the path on the side of the pillar.

Zanza slammed her free hoof down on the big red button.

A rapid, roaring crash was heard as a screaming barrage of magical bolts erupted out of Entropy's horn and down into the fray, the two wing-ponies on either side mimicking him. Zanza looked over the side as they passed by, to see the Cinderwings look up at them in disbelief, before plunging back into battle with renewed heart.

They whizzed overhead, and came about for another strafing run. Zanza pressed the button again, sending another stream of bolts down onto the battle. The shades opened up alongside, and a score of thralls were blasted right off their feet.

Something whipped by her head and struck the apparition to her left. With a sound like metal grinding metal, it vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Incoming fire! Evasive maneuvers, over!” cried Smurf-2. Sure enough, on the path, several of the thralls farther away from the fight had produced a plethora of slings, and were flinging a hail of small stones at them.

Zanza’s heart lurched into her stomach when Entropy abruptly carved into a tight, spiraling rise, powering them higher and higher above the battle. At the apex of the climb, Zanza hung upside down from his neck. Everything was inverted for those briefest of seconds as they hung weightless, and the alicorn plummeted down into a vertical power-dive.

They were coming down directly on top of the sling throwers, who had spotted them and were trying their damnedest to shoot them down. Zanza screamed as a rock the size of her hoof grazed her cheek. She desperately mashed the red button. They rained a ferocious storm of magical blasts straight onto the throwers, who could barely return fire as they were thrown about by the impacts and resulting detonations.

However, they must have gotten lucky, as two of their projectiles cannoned into Entropy, who gave a screech as he tumbled mid-flight, rider clinging on for dear life. Zanza shut her eyes, the last image she saw the sight of the ground rushing up to meet them.

Wha-boom!

The sickening sound of the alicorn’s body crashing into the stone path caused a small lull in the battle.

Zanza peeked her eyes open, to once again find herself wrapped in a pair of dusky gold forelegs.

“Kiddo, I’m beginning to think this is going to be a regular thing of ours,” said Daring Do with a roguish smile.

“Daring!” Zanza cried. “What happened? I remember getting pulled into this hole, and then-”

Daring shook her head. “Not now, we’ve got a bit of a situation on our hooves. I can’t fly around with you for long, so we’re touching down behind the line we’re holding. You’ve missed quite a lot, kiddo. After you got taken, I went in after you. Whatever took you gave me the slip, and somehow ended up running into the pack.”

The pegasus set her down in the middle of the path, which was big enough for five diamond dogs to walk abreast. One side was flanked by the pillar itself, and the other opened to the sickening drop below them.

Ahead, the Cinderwings were pressed into a tight formation, four across, each holding a slab of metal that must have been ripped from somewhere like shields in front of them. Old Yeller and Lassie stood behind them, striking over the shield barricade with spear and arrow. Ginger Snap stood a bit further back, her horn aglow with a fierce light as she ripped chunks of stone down upon the thralls from the wall or lobbed balls of fire over the heads of her pack.

Daring’s hooves rested on her shoulders, the pegasus looking her in the eye. “Stay here, and for the love of Celestia, please don’t disappear on me like that again. Okay?” With that, she spun and hurled herself over the edge, wings snapping outward to send her flying into the air.

“Got it,” mumbled Zanza, still disorientated by the wild flight. A nearby boulder had detached itself from the pillar, and she scrambled behind it to watch the fight out of harm’s way.

It was a brutal affair, to say the least. The thralls, a mix of many races and breeds, fought like a mob. There had to be a hundred of them, at the least! They clearly weren't used to fighting in close quarters against a disciplined foe, and wave after wave of them broke against the Cinderwing’s shield wall, led by Echo, which slowly, but steadily, advanced up the path.

Lassie, the long-haired female diamond dog, was wreaking havoc with her longbow, nocking, drawing, and letting a shaft fly in an almost continuous cycle. The arrows landed seemingly wherever she wanted, though it wasn't hard to hit a target when they were so bunched up. She mainly focused on picking off the ones near the back, who had been hurling stones from their slings over the shields. Daring Do came down like a bolt of thunder and smashed the survivors into the ground.

Old Yeller held fast right behind the shield wall, a spear in each paw, jabbing and slashing with an almost practiced ease. None who came within his reach escaped without injury, and despite the elderly diamond dog’s age, he was holding up nicely.

A mighty rumble was heard as Ginger Snap caused a large section of pathway up ahead to rip away and tilt, causing almost two dozen thralls to slide across the surface and plummet screaming over the edge and into the void.

Unbelievably, they continued to press forward, nine against ninety, and with an uphill fight at that. Zanza soon had to break cover and edge along the wall, following them up as the Cinderwings pushed the dragon’s thralls further and further up the path. A trail of carnage was left in their wake, broken bodies and blood. Zanza tried not to look at it. She was no stranger to gore - the constant warfare between the zebra tribes on the Zavannah was one of the reasons her family had left in the first place - but she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that one of the corpses would be her mother or father.

As she gingerly picked her way through the carnage, she felt a sharp yank on her tail. She squeaked and tumbled over, finding herself face to face an earth pony, wearing filthy rags and an iron collar around his neck, the outfit of all of the dragon’s slaves. An enormous arrow was struck deep between his shoulder and neck, and bleeding profusely onto the rock path upon which he lay.

“H-help us,” he croaked. His eyes were bright with pain.

“I. I don’t know...” Zanza managed, scrambling away from the mortally wounded stallion. “Who are you?”

“I am Twenty.” He coughed. “You aren’t Hers yet. You can help.”

“Hers?”

His hoof reached out and seized her, pulling her face to face. Zanza grimaced. He smelled like he hadn’t cleaned himself in weeks. “She owns us, body and soul. You are free! You can help...the others...” He rolled onto his back and pointed up to the top of the pillar, so high it disappeared into the darkness of the hollowed-out hill. “There. She sleeps...do it then.”

Zanza flinched away from him. “What?”

“Set us free...” He sucked in a breath, and was clearly pained by the action. Zanza watched in horror as he jerked --once, twice-- and fell still. His eyes glazed over. The hoof holding her close relaxed and fell onto the ground.

Something grabbed her around her barrel and lifted. She smelled fresh-cut wood and turned earth, and felt the soft fabric of spidersilk rest against her stomach.

“I am so sorry,” said Echo, as he strode up the winding path with the little zebra riding on his back. “You should not have had to be here, little one.” The soft sound of his padded paws on the stone seemed to carry a sense of finality. “You should not have had to seen him die. We have pushed his fellows into a retreat to the top of the spire. No more will be killed if they do not resist.”

“W-why?” Zanza said softly. “What is the reason for all this?”

“I know that you were in a cell for some time, yes? You missed much. But you must understand that here, we are the invaders, the burglars. The dragon who lives here does not want us in its home. So it sends its property to protect its property. The slaves who have been hindering us since we entered the caves, they are merely possessions, extensions of the dragon’s hoard. They have no will, no life other than this. They obey their master because it is what they are. If we want to get reach our goals, we have to fight them.”

“The hoard defends itself...” Zanza murmured. “Entropy said tha-” she stopped. “Entropy! I saw him crash! Is he alright?”

“He's fine, though weakened, resting with us up ahead. He was pulling himself off the path when we pushed over the crater he made. He had a 1-Up Mushroom on him.”

“What’s a 1-Up Mush-”

“You don’t want to know.”

She took his word for it. There were some things about the enigmatic hybrid that she felt she would be better off in ignorance of. Zanza fell into a brooding silence. Everything just felt so...blank. The past few hours had been a complete whirlwind of mayhem and uncertainty.

“Are you alright?” Echo asked her. “I sense that you've been through quite a lot.”

“I...” Zanza began, then thought better of it. “I just want to find my Mamma and Poppa,” she sniffled, “wherever they are in this stupid place.”

“If they are in the dragon’s clutches, we will find them at the top, at the actual hoard.” Echo rounded the corner. There, the other Cinderwings were gathered about the path, treating the wounds they’d acquired and seeing after their arms and armor.

“I am sorry,” he said again, “that we have to do so much evil to be good in the end. It shouldn't be like this. Not here. We have to do better.”

Zanza slid off his back and landed on unsteady hooves.

"Zanza. I want you to know that you are not a burden to us. You are a very special zebra, even if you don't believe that. If...if this search is in vain, you are more that welcome to stay with Daring and I until we make good on our word."

"Thank you, Mister Echo," Zanza softly replied. Despite herself, she fleetingly imagined what that would be like. It didn't really seem that bad at all, based on the past few days.

She followed the diamond dog over to the pack and sat down on a boulder. Something poked her on the flank. She almost jumped out of her skin before she looked down to see a bandaged alicorn lying next to the rock.

“Entropy?” she gasped.

“You know how they say to do a barrel roll?” the alicorn said softly. He was covered in scrapes and bruises, and those only the parts of him not wrapped in bloodstained gauze. “Well, don’t. Shoulda used the U-turn. Damn inverted controls.”

“Are...you alright?” Zanza asked him.

“I had an extra quarter, so I got to continue,” he groaned. “I think I've only got enough left in me for one last hurrah, though. Great galloping gadzooks, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Hey, that’s Daring’s line,” said Ginger Snap as she approached them. “You doing ok?”

“Been better,” Entropy grumbled.

“Wasn’t asking you,” she shot at him, then looked expectantly at Zanza.

“Um...I’m fine,” she murmured, nervous under the unicorn's scrutiny.

Ginger ran a hoof through her mane. “Oh, so, ok. That’s good.”

Daring Do trotted up next to her. “Look, Ginger, if you can’t do it, I will.”

“Fine, fine! Zanza, your parents were important figures in your tribe, correct?”

Zanza nodded. “Yes. My father was the most senior warrior, and my mother was the village shaman.”

“A shaman. Right. So, it’s safe to assume that you may have learned a thing or two from her?”

“Yes. I was...next in line.” Zanza slumped a bit. Memories came to her mind, of golden afternoons in the medicine hut with her mother, learning the many uses of the savannah herbs, laughing and talking until sundown, when her father would come home with the rest of the tribe after a day spent grazing.

“Then I...we need your help,” Ginger finally managed. She looked pained to even suggest that her pack was incapable of taking care of itself. “Yeller got hit with something nasty. Daring thinks it might be poison. We need everypony up before we even think about pressing for the top.”

“Usually, I’d handle something like this, but I’m really only experienced with first aid and quick fixes,” Daring explained.

Zanza slowly stepped down off the boulder. “I’ll try my best,” she solemnly said. The two mares exchanged a glance and led her away to to where the others were gathered on the path.

“Good luck!” Entropy called after them. Zanza was struck by the fact that it was the first straightforward thing he had said since she’d first met him.

Ginger parted the other packmembers when they reached the group. Zanza followed close behind. Most of them gave her a respectful dip of the head or a flick of the ear. That’s new, Zanza thought to herself.

Old Yeller was slumped against the rock wall, breathing heavily. On his arm was a filthy wound, covered in grime and gore.

Zanza gave the gash a cursory sniff. She winced away. “There’s an infection setting in. But...he only got the actual wound not too long ago, right?”

“No. He was the first one injured, when we first entered the cave. It was a another diamond dog that did this, a slave. His claws were filthy and jagged, just like the others,” Ginger growled. “It’s a disgrace, how this dragon treats its possessions.”

Zanza examined the aging diamond dog. Aside from the savaged arm, he only had a few other minor scrapes and bumps. She frowned. If he was succumbing to infection this quickly, then it must be a very nasty one.

“Do we have any medical supplies?” she asked curtly. Her confidence was rising fast. Finally, something she knew about. This she could do. Now who was the helpless filly?

“Yep, right here,” Daring said, slinging her saddlebags off. They hit the floor with an impossibly heavy noise. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it out.”

Zanza gave the infected wound another close look, ignoring the repulsive stench it was emanating. “Water. Nightshade. Mirkwort. Tongue of Lupus. Gauze. And...catspaw.”

Daring Do literally burrowed into her saddlebag, a feat that should not have been physically possible, and then she tumbled back out with a bunch of packets of herbs and a jug of water.

“What?” she said, at the looks Ginger and Zanza were giving her. “Usually it’s a lot more cramped in there, but most of my explosives are set to go at the moment.”

“Right...” said Zanza, quickly washing out Old Yeller’s wound with the water. The diamond dog hissed at this, but held his tongue. Zanza crushed up the nightshade, mirkwort, and catspaw, before cramming the stomped-up leaves into her mouth and chewing voraciously.

“What are you-?” Ginger began, before the zebra spat the whole gob out right into the wound and pressed it into the the gap with a hoof. Curdles of red steam began to wisp out from behind it, and an audible sizzling noise was heard. After a moment of this, Zanza quickly scooped up the nightshade leaves and layed these onto the injury. She then wrapped the whole thing up in gauze and gave it a pat to ensure it would hold.

“Done!” she proudly declared, turning to face the ponies. She stopped and stared at the astonished assembly of diamond dogs who had gathered around her while she worked. “I mean...um...”

Old Yeller flexed his arm, giving it a sniff.

“She’s good,” he finally grunted.

“Really good,” Daring added. Beside her, Echo grinned underneath his hood.

“Zanza...that was amazing.” Ginger was looking at her with renewed interest. And, the zebra noted, a hint of respect. The little filly swelled with pride. “Yeller, you think you can carry on?”

“I manage. But...side will be weaker,” Old Yeller stood up to his full height at and moved the arm around.

“Can we use same formation now?” Lassie wondered.

“No,” said Ginger. “We need to do something...unexpected. They will be waiting for us to storm the hoard. And, if the dragon is at the top, we will have to contend with that, as well.”

Daring Do grinned. “Unexpected, you say? I have an idea.”

Beside her, Echo suddenly looked nervous.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Riding the Crazy Train"

Level Up! - Zanza

Skill Unlocked!- Witch Doctor: (+10 to all healing, increased knowledge of medical arts) The teachings of Mother come back to you, and you begin to walk the blessed path of a shaman.

Perks unlocked! -

-Fine Line Between Sane and Insane: (+4 intellect) Your constant exposure to Disarray and Entropy have left you better equipped to handle their constant output of insanity. Your mind is now better protected, and less likely to shut down in the event of something random.

Location Discovered! - The Dragon's Tooth