Pandemic

by ASGeek2012

First published 31st of December, 2016

The small Colorado town of Lazy Pines soldiers on through a bad outbreak of influenza in an otherwise typical flu season ... until the OTHER symptoms manifest.

Lazy Pines is a small town in the high country of Colorado, easily overshadowed by the bigger sights to see along Colorado State 9. When influenza strikes the town hard, it is little more than a statistical blip in a typical flu season. No one thinks any more of it as the initial wave of infection passes ... until the other symptoms begin to manifest.

Meanwhile, during what should have been a routine trip to Canterlot, Twilight Sparkle stumbles upon a strange anomaly which turns into an all-consuming mystery. As she discovers the complex web of magic stubbornly maintaining this mystery's secrets, she grows worried what it could mean for herself and her family.

And as the residents of Lazy Pines struggle to understand -- or even believe -- what is happening to them, two worlds have irrevocably been set on a direct collision course.

Updates every other weekend.

Cover art by Mix-up. Please check out more artwork by this talented artist.

Now has its own TV Tropes page thanks to redandready45.

Chapter 1 - Bad Hair Day

Laura Tanner stared at her lightly freckled face in the bathroom mirror as she pulled the drawstrings of the hood of her jacket closed, the fabric encircling her face in a tight oval. Her blue-gray eyes betrayed doubt as she reflected on how much she did not feel like she had reached seventeen a month prior despite what the calendar said.

Her muted self-assessment was broken by a sudden fit of coughing. She took in her next breath slowly, gripping the edges of the sink until her sides no longer wanted to spasm. Of all the things about the flu she hated, nothing was worse than the lingering cough that never wanted to go away. She considered playing up on that at breakfast to get out of going to school that late March Monday morning, but she was already pushing it with the jacket. Not to mention she never could cough convincingly on demand, not like her little sister could.

Laura took a deep breath, silently cursing herself when it triggered another round of coughing, and turned to leave the bathroom. In the hall, she stopped at the sight of a shorter blond-haired girl standing with her arms folded.

"What?" Laura demanded.

"You're so fake," said the girl with a smirk.

Laura's frown deepened as she pushed past the girl. "I don't have time for this, Jenny."

Fourteen-year-old Jenny Tanner spun around, her long hair flying. "Yes, let's all make way for her Majesty the Queen! She has so many appointments that she has little time for the poor little peasant girl who--" Her voice strained and broke up into coughing.

"Yeah, see who the faker is now," Laura muttered.

Jenny tried to talk through her coughing. "Hey, I had the same flu you did, you know."

"Yeah, but you milked it for all it's worth."

Jenny paused until her coughing subsided. "And you're not doing the same now? Let me guess: you're going to claim you still have chills."

Laura sorely wished Jenny did not have an uncanny way of reading people like a book.

Jenny grinned. "Anyway, I know what's really wrong."

Laura's heart thumped. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I doooo!" Jenny sang.

Laura resolved not to let her little sister push her buttons that morning. She suspected this was just a fishing expedition, hoping that Laura would get riled up enough to drop hints. "Whatever you think is going on is of no concern to me," said Laura in a calm voice. "Now, excuse me, I'm heading downstairs."

Jenny slapped her hands together in a supplicating gesture, and her face took on an exaggerated pleading look. "Oh, but Your Majesty, what of this poor little peasant girl who may know things about the Queen that her adoring subjects would--"

"Oh, stuff it, Jenny!" Laura growled. "Don't involve me in your stupid little fantasies. At least I know how to act my age."

Jenny's face fell, her lips curling into a frown.

Laura felt some satisfaction that her little sister had that one button that could be reliably pushed. As she turned away, however, she realized she had pushed it so many times it had become worn with overuse, manifesting as a twinge of guilt. Had she not been dealing with her own problems, Laura likely would have rolled with it. Jenny could be entertaining at times, even if Laura thought her head was too much in the clouds.

Laura rushed down the stairs, pausing on the last stair to make sure her hood was in place before entering the kitchen, where she was welcomed by the aroma of sausage and frying eggs. Yet when she stepped inside, she drew up short when she did not see her mother standing at the stove.

"Um ..." Laura murmured.

A barrel-chested man with dark brown hair called out without turning around. "Morning, honey."

"Uh, morning, Dad," said Laura. "Where's Mom?"

"She was up real early as she had a site she had to visit," said Harold Tanner in a neutral voice.

"A site? I thought she was on hiatus from doing active digs."

"So did I," Harold muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. "She said she'd be back by this afternoon." He turned back to the stove for a moment before looking back at his daughter. "Laura, why on Earth are you still wearing that? You were wearing it all day yesterday."

Laura wrapped her arms around herself and pretended to shiver. "Still got some chills. Guess it's just leftover from the flu."

Harold's gray-eyed gaze remained on his daughter for another moment before he turned back to the stove. "I suppose you're looking to stay home from school another day."

Jenny wandered in as Laura replied, "No, actually, I'm not."

Jenny raised an eyebrow at her sister.

Laura allowed herself a little smirk. "Yeah, that's right, pipsqueak," Laura muttered. "I was intending to go to school all along."

Jenny shrugged.

"Laura, don't call your sister that," Harold said in a resigned tone that suggested this was not the first time such admonishment was dispensed and ignored. "Breakfast is almost ready, please go sit down."

Laura and Jenny headed into the dining room. Laura slid sedately into a seat while Jenny plopped herself into hers. "Her Majesty's schedule is too busy today to be bothered by such trifles as the lingering effects of prolonged illness," said Jenny. She paused a beat. "Or a problem with the royal coiffure."

Laura flinched. "What?"

"What would her subjects think?" continued Jenny in a voice as if she were giving a dramatic recitation. "Perhaps an evil fae has cast a spell upon her for her own amusement? Or would they suspect the Queen herself of being fae, her plans to enchant the kingdom now forever--"

"Jenny, shut up," Laura growled through clenched teeth.

Harold emerged from the kitchen with the pan of eggs. "Jenny, please, for one morning, don't annoy your sister."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let the Queen figure out her own problems."

"Thank you," both Laura and Harold said almost at the same time.

Jenny looked about the table. "But what of the royal squire? What is his fate this morning?'

Laura groaned. "What are you going on about now?"

After dispensing the eggs, Harold departed and returned with the pan of sausages. He had long since learned to decipher Jenny's speech when she was in one of these moods. He wouldn't openly admit it for fear of antagonizing Laura, but he often enjoyed Jenny's immersive fantasies. "Bob is up in bed," said Harold. "He got the flu last, so he's still recovering. I thought it would be best for him to stay home another day or two. He might still be contagious."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters. The whole damn town came down with it."

"Well, almost," said Harold as he sat down. "Doctor Conner didn't, thank God. I know a handful of others who didn't either."

Laura's eyes flicked over to her father before gazing across the table at Jenny. Jenny looked back with inquisitive soft blue eyes. Laura immediately turned her attention to her breakfast. "So, um, he's still okay? Still taking patients?"

"I imagine so, yeah." Harold looked at his daughter. "Why?"

"No reason," said Laura.

Harold knew that was a lie, but he didn't have the same finesse for drawing out the truth like his wife Sarah did. Usually she was the one who found the truth, and Harold was the one who meted out discipline.

As if suspecting that her father was contemplating his daughter's problems too closely, Laura lifted her head and said, "So, um, Dad, have you had any luck?"

Harold sighed. "Yes. All of it bad."

"Sorry. Isn't anyone hiring?"

"Oh, they're hiring," said Harold with a small frown. "Just not with the convenience of working remotely. The big fad lately in the IT world is having people in the office again."

Laura frowned. "If Mom hadn't insisted we settle in this stupid nowhere town--"

Harold shook his head. "Lazy Pines is not exactly nowhere. Just down the state highway is Silverthorne and the big lake there, and past that is Breckenridge with its big ski resort, and another popular lake just north of here. And we're not going to be here forever, just until Sarah finishes her book."

"If she ever does with all the side-trips she keeps taking," Laura muttered.

Sarah Tanner negotiated her jeep down the steep switchback, early spring snow crunching under her wheels and leaving deep tire tracks in her wake. The morning sun lighted the ground in blinding display, forcing her to wear sunglasses despite how they made it hard to see small details. As the ground finally leveled off, she clutched the steering wheel with one hand as she fumbled to pop another cough drop with the other.

Despite the straightening road, she slowed her approach, her gaze tracking up the cliff that loomed above her, then sliding down to the dwelling that had been carved into its base around the 13th century by ancient Native Americans. Only small drifts of dusty snow had crept inside, as the shape of the valley tended to funnel the wind laterally.

Sarah caught sight of a man waving to her up ahead. She pulled over and killed the engine. She drew her hair back and tied it into a makeshift ponytail so it would stay out of her way even as her booted feet hit the snowy ground. Sunlight made her soft brown hair glow almost like an aura, breath fogging the air before her as she stepped forward.

"Sarah, thanks for coming on such short notice," said the lanky, slightly balding man. "I know you're not really on 'active duty' these days, so to speak."

Sarah stepped into the shadow of the cliff and pulled off her sunglasses, her blue-green eyes squinting. "It's fine, Greg. Your message said this was important."

"I know this is not exactly the ideal time of year to look at one of these sites," said Greg as he led her towards the cliff dwelling. "But this way, well, we don't draw attention."

Sarah did not like that they had to rely on this bit of subterfuge. Science was not something that was supposed to be conducted in secret. "You said you didn't want to say what it was on the phone. Can you explain it to me now?"

"Best I just show you," Greg deadpanned.

"You know I don't like it when you act mysterious."

"Sorry, but, well, I'm not even sure myself what this could mean."

Sarah uttered a despondent sigh, but her heart raced. She glanced to the side as they passed the kiva that had been uncovered the previous year, and she felt a pang of disappointment when he did not take her there. More than anything she wanted to find more artifacts, preferably another treasure trove like the one that had been literally stolen from her at the previous site.

Sarah raised an eyebrow when Greg took her past the cliff dwelling entirely. "What's going on?"

Greg remained silent and ducked around an outcropping of rock caused by a wide fissure in the cliff face. In a small natural alcove, he stopped under a rock face angled at about forty-five degrees. Sarah blinked as she struggled to see in the deep shadows, until Greg clicked on a flashlight.

Sarah's breath caught as her eyes fell on the petroglyphs. She said not a word as she stepped forward to better observe the work of the ancient artist who had painstakingly scratched away the surface rock to reveal the darker layers below, thus etching an image.

"So what about it?" Greg said. "Is it real?"

Ever fiber of Sarah's being wanted to scream that it was, yet the scientist in her had to consider every possibility. "This is incongruous." She reached a finger towards the petroglyphs but did not dare touch them. "These look almost like horses."

"Uh-huh. Just like those artifacts that were stolen from that site last year."

Sarah sighed. "Greg, you said you were going to take another look for all the photos we got of--"

Greg shook his head. "I've been through everything we ever cataloged, Sarah. I can't find any evidence we ever took any pics."

It had been bad enough that someone had made off with the artifacts themselves, but to take the photographic evidence as well had incensed Sarah to no end.

Greg looked at the petroglyphs. "So they look like horses."

"Except, by conventional wisdom, they can't be," said Sarah. "The ancestral Puebloans didn't have horses. Native Americans in general didn't have horses until the sixteenth century."

"Which is what you said when you found the other artifacts." He looked at the petroglyphs again. "The proportions do look a bit skewed."

"Which would be consistent with a second-hand account of domesticated horses if they never actually saw one themselves." Sarah turned to Greg. "What do we know about this site?"

"Only that is was abandoned fairly quickly after it had been founded," said Greg. "This was during a period of a lot of warfare among the tribes." He jerked his head towards the petroglyphs. "To me, these look like they're incomplete, like the work was interrupted."

Sarah took a closer look. It did appear as if the artist had intended to draw three figures, but only two were completed. She narrowed her eyes at the center image. "Look here. Does this look like a wing?"

"Good, I'm not the only one," Greg said.

Sarah took a deep breath. "Who knows about this?" she said in a low voice.

"This little crevice contains the sum total of the humans on this planet who have seen it, at least as far as I know."

"Let's keep it that way for now."

"You think this will affect your book?"

The whole premise of Sarah's book was a radical theory that the ancestral Puebloan societies -- often referred to as the "Anasazi" outside of scientific circles -- had contact with other civilizations, perhaps in this case one that had brought with them the concept of horses.

"Only if I can prove it," said Sarah in a soft voice.

"And the wing?" Greg prompted.

"That has to be a mistake by the artist, or it's symbolic of something else." She sighed. "Or it's a fake. I'm going to have to come back here in the summer and really study this site. In the meantime, I have to get going if I want to make the drive back home."

"How's your family doing?" Greg asked as they trekked back to her car.

"Better," Sarah said. "The flu really knocked everyone flat, but now only Bob is still sick."

"You sound a lot better yourself."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Only because I've been popping cough drops like a damn junkie. God, I hate the cough most of all."

Greg tilted his head as the bright sunlight played off Sarah's hair. "Well, that's new."

Sarah turned around as she reached her car. "Huh?"

Greg smiled. "Trying out a new hairstyle?"

"What are you talking about, Greg?"

"The streak of red though your hair."

Sarah frowned and reached behind her head. "Where?"

"Right down the back of your head starting just below your hair tie."

She grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she spied the streak of color, a bright cherry red a quarter inch wide. "I didn't know about this."

"Walk under something being painted, perhaps?" Greg suggested.

Sarah stared at the strands of hair. The color looked too even to be the result of a paint splatter. She frowned and tossed her hair back behind her. "I think I have an idea how this happened, and a certain hubbie of mine is going to get an earful." Sarah's cell phone twittered. She took it out and glanced at the missed call notification. "Speak of the devil. I better get out of here so I can get a clear signal. See you later."

She hopped in her jeep and made the slow climb out of the valley. When she finally had a consistent signal on her phone, she called Harold's cell.

"Hi, honey," said Harold in a subdued voice.

"Sorry I missed your call, I was still at the site," Sarah said. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I don't know. Your daughter is acting weird."

Sarah frowned. "Why is it always 'my' daughter when something goes wrong?" She immediately clicked her tongue and said in a more contrite voice, "Sorry, forget I said that, it's been an interesting morning. What's up?"

Harold told her about Laura and her jacket.

"And here I thought you'd be complaining about Jenny," said Sarah.

"No, that's more your department," said Harold in an even voice.

Sarah gripped the cell phone tighter. "Let's not go there right now. So you think Laura is hiding something?"

"Yes, and I suspect Jenny knows what it is."

"Well, did you ask her?"

"Sarah, I'm not going to do that. It's bad enough how they go at each other in the best of times. Though Jenny did drop a clue. It might have something to do with her hair."

Sarah frowned. "Oh, really, now."

Harold sighed. "Hoo boy, I know that tone. What did I do wrong now?"

"Just as I was recovering from the flu, I went to do laundry," said Sarah in a slightly acid voice. "You left all your chemical solvents out. Again."

Harold dabbled in restoring old machinery, a hobby he had turned to much more often lately to keep himself busy while he was out of work. He often needed to use strong chemicals to remove years of crud and rust. Another motivation, though he didn't state it openly, was finding something he could use around the house without having to pay a lot for it. "Uh, yeah, so?"

"You know I don't like it when you leave all that stuff out."

"I mean, what does it have to do with this?"

"The fumes likely did something to her hair."

Harold hesitated. "Run that by me again?"

"I've got a streak of weird color in my hair," said Sarah. "The only thing I can think of is that something reacted with my hair spray. I bet the same thing happened to Laura."

"What, seriously?" said Harold. "Those chemicals can't change hair color."

"Nevertheless, I want you to make sure they're all properly closed and stored away."

"Fine," Harold grunted. "Will you be back in town soon?"

"Hopefully by noon," said Sarah. "Then if Laura is still acting odd when she gets home from school, maybe I can figure out what it is."

Jenny dashed off the school bus as soon as the doors had opened, running full tilt across the gravel lot along the side of Lazy Pines High School. Her right foot came down squarely in the middle of a puddle of ice-cold melt-water from the lingering mounds of spring snow. It soaked through her sneaker and sock almost instantly, but she ignored it and the indignant cries from those whom she had splashed.

"Save your bellyaching," she heard her sister say to someone. "She's just a five-year-old in a teenager's body."

"Everybody's a critic," Jenny muttered.

She stopped only when the exertion forced her to breathe hard, which in turn made her cough. Her chest ached slightly, but she pressed on when she saw the object of her search up ahead. "James! Hey, James!"

A boy with sandy hair under a fur-lined hat turned his head from where he stood with several other boys his age. "Oh, hi, Jenny."

One of the other boys smirked and leaned over to whisper something to him, which made him blush and the others laugh. Jenny was oblivious to this as she stopped before the boy and said, "You have to hear this idea I came up with. I'm just bursting with the need to tell someone!"

James Carlyle cleared his throat. "Uh, sure, we can do that."

Jenny remained where she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"You mean right now?" said James.

"Of course I mean right now," Jenny said.

"We'll catch you later, James," said one of the other boys with a grin.

Jenny flinched as if surprised to see someone had been standing there all along.

"Yeah, later," James said before turning back to Jenny. "So now what?"

Jenny tilted her head. "What do you mean 'now what?'"

James tugged his hat down. "Sorry, been having a bad morning."

Jenny glanced up. "Why are you wearing that hat?"

"It's cold out."

"It's not that cold, and besides, it looks ridiculous."

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and good morning to you, too."

Jenny sighed. "I'm sorry."

James had known Jenny for the better part of the semester, but he was still getting used to her penchant for blurting out whatever was on her mind, not to mention an exuberance that was sometimes barely a step below overwhelming. He smiled and shook his head. "It's fine. What's your idea?"

Jenny beamed. "A kingdom run by a powerful queen who secretly turns out to be a fae in disguise. She intended to wait until she had all her subjects adoring her before she lets loose with her magic to beguile everyone. Then she has a change of heart and decides to rule benevolently, but something happens that makes her slowly reveal her true nature despite everything she does. She sequesters herself so no one will see her transforming, save for a simple peasant girl who knows her terrible secret." She smirked. "And can you believe my silly sister was the inspiration?"

James grinned. "You say that most of the time nowadays."

Jenny giggled. "I'd tell you what it was that inspired me, but, eh, I don't think she'd want me to tell. I like poking her sometimes, but I don't want to be mean. So, anyway, I know the perfect place! I found it last weekend. It would make a good enchanted forest." She considered. "Well, dead enchanted forest until spring gets here, but you know what I mean. We--"

"Whoa, slow down!" James said. "What area is this?"

Jenny's eyes flicked to the side. "Um, just some place I found."

James raised an eyebrow. "Jenny, is it on private property?"

"Well, yes and no."

James sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "Something is either owned privately or it's not."

"Look, I've never seen the owner there, so maybe it's abandoned. Anyway, it's something like forty acres. No one will know we're there."

"That's what you said the last time!"

Jenny frowned. "How was I supposed to know they were going to pick that day to demolish the old mill? It made a perfect setting for--"

"Have you ever thought of maybe writing this stuff down instead of acting it out?"

"I'm not a good writer, and acting it out helps me remember it," said Jenny. "And it's more fun than being holed up in my room poring over a word processor."

James sighed. "Yeah, well, I may have to bow out."

Jenny frowned. "Why?"

"I really got read the riot act about the mill from my parents. They came close to forbidding me from hanging out with you."

Jenny's eyes widened. "They can't do that!"

"They can, but they didn't, but only if I agreed to stop doing these things with you."

Jenny threw up her hands. Her arm brushed against something to a yelp from James, but she barely noticed as she stalked off a short distance. "This is so not fair. This makes no sense. We never did anything inherently dangerous! We were perfectly safe in--"

She turned around and gasped. A split second later, James had jammed the hat back on his head that Jenny had knocked off, but not before she had seen the real reason for his unusual attire. As James turned to face her, Jenny clenched her teeth and clamped a hand to her mouth as her sides convulsed with repressed laughter.

"If. You. Say. One. Word," James breathed.

Jenny snorted. "I-I can't help it." She bubbled with mirth despite how much it gave her the urge to cough. "I'm not the one who dyed his hair green!"

James slapped a hand over his eyes. "I didn't dye my hair."

"Okay, well, not the whole thing, just that streak in the back," said Jenny. "But, good God, James, you could've picked a better color than that!"

James frowned. "That's just it, I didn't. I woke up this morning with that stupid bit of olive green in my hair."

"Oh, come on. I thought I'm the one who's supposed to come up with the story ideas."

"It's no story. Certainly not one I want to be part of."

Jenny hesitated. "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"

"Finally figured that out, huh?" James muttered.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just--"

"Never mind." He glanced towards the entrance of the school. "We better get inside. If you want to talk to me more about your idea -- just talk -- then we can hang out after school. But the excursions to all points hither and yon are out." He paused and added in a more contrite voice. "I'm sorry."

Jenny watched him go. "Yeah, so'm I," she muttered before stepping towards the entrance.

Laura ducked out of her last class of the morning and rushed down the hallway, clutching her books to her bosom like a shield. She bumped into a few peers as she barreled through their midst, muttering apologies as she went. She finally skidded to a halt before a girl with half her otherwise dark brown hair dyed pink. The girl turned her head. "Laura?" she said, her voice slightly raspy.

"Yeah, it's me, Tina," said Laura.

Laura's friend Tina Kelston flicked her eyes up to the hood, but otherwise did not react. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"If you mean the flu, yeah."

Tina coughed a few times and struggled to clear her throat. "Lucky you. I still feel like total crap, but my mother insisted I don't miss any more school."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I almost wish I was still sick and could stay home."

Tina closed her locker and hoisted a satchel over her shoulder. "I know what you mean."

"Actually, I don't think you do," said Laura. "Are you headed home to get some lunch?"

"Yeah, I was. You want to come along? I still don't have much of an appetite, so I certainly have enough to share."

Laura uttered a sigh of relief. "I was hoping you'd say that. I really need your help."

Tina looked surprised. "You do?"

Laura glanced around and said in a lower voice, "I need your skill at dyeing hair."

Tina snorted. "You want to dye your hair? Seriously?"

"It's not what you think, I just ... look, can we get going? I don't want to talk about it here."

Tina gave her friend a wary look. "You're acting awfully weird."

Laura frowned. "Right now, things are weird, but you might be able to help me until I can figure this out."

"Well, okay, let's get going, then," said Tina. She chuckled. "I have to admit, I'm curious as hell as to what this is all about."

As they headed down the front steps of the school, Laura walked close to Tina and said in a low voice, "Your parents both work during the day, right?"

"Yeah, we'll have the house to ourselves," said Tina. She smirked. "Now I'm insanely curious as to what this is about. You finally work up the nerve to ask someone out and now you want to doll up your hair so--"

"No, that's definitely not it," said Laura firmly.

"Okay, well, that's one theory down the toilet," Tina said with a sigh. "All right, let's hustle."

She broke into a jog, and Laura gratefully matched her pace. They headed into Tina's house, and she closed the front door behind them before turning to her friend. "So what's this all about?"

Laura swallowed hard as she tugged the drawstrings loose from her hood. "Tina, please, whatever you do, don't laugh. This isn't the least bit funny to me."

"Um, okay," Tina said in a confused voice. "But what could be so bad that ..."

She trailed off, and her eyes widened as Laura drew back her hood and freed her hair from a string she had used to tie it back. A thick mess of bright orange curls spilled out around her head.

Tina's mouth dropped open. "Wh-what did you do to--?!"

"I didn't," Laura declared.

"My God, I'd kill to be able to dye my hair so evenly!"

Laura grabbed two fistfuls of hair. "This isn't dye. I don't know what it is."

Tina gave her a dubious look. "Oh, come on, hair doesn't just spontaneously change color."

"Mine did," Laura said. "It started Friday night, just one streak of orange. It got worse Saturday and Sunday, and this morning it had become completely orange and all curls."

Tina looked thoughtful. "Can you stand still for a minute and let me look at it?"

Laura nodded quickly.

Tina approached her friend, her wide eyes looking over the voluminous curls. She took one in her fingers and gently drew it straight. She brushed aside the nearby curls and examined Laura's scalp. "The color goes clear down to the roots! You sure you have no idea how this happened?"

"No freaking idea," said Laura. "It doesn't wash out, even after I used a ton of shampoo."

"Honestly, Laura, I'm not sure what you want me to do."

"Could you dye it back?" Laura asked hopefully.

"Come again?"

"Dye it back to the original color! Maybe help me straighten the curls out."

"I don't know about this. I mean, look." Tina lifted a few of her dyed strands. Unlike Laura's orange, Tina's pink was uneven in places, brighter towards the tips, and did not reach the roots. "I've gotten pretty good at it, but it's obviously dyed, and I don't mean just the color."

Laura's face fell. "So you're saying it's hopeless."

"What I'm saying is, I think you need a doctor more than you need me. Look, I know a lot about hair care. I can tell you right now that orange this bright is not normal. Not even the gene for red hair can produce as bright a shade as that, at least not normally." Tina glanced at Laura. "How the hell did you ever keep this from your parents?"

"The weird color started from the tips and worked its way up," said Laura. "On Saturday, I was able to arrange my hair so it wasn't noticeable. Sunday I had to start wearing the jacket and hood around the house. I claimed I was still getting chills from the flu."

"Laura, seriously, I'm stumped," said Tina. "I don't think I can do anything for you."

Laura nodded. "Thanks for looking at it anyway. I guess I'll see if Doctor Conner can squeeze me in on the way home from school."

Author's Notes:

This story takes place in the near future, around the start of the 2020's.

Chapter 2 - A Mystery In Canterlot

Author's Notes:

This contains some spoilers for the season six finale.

Also, the story will be alternating between Earth and Equestria until the two plots converge.

Meanwhile, in another universe entirely, a pony contemplated a fate worse than death.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," lamented Starlight Glimmer, her gaze downcast as she trotted along a street in Canterlot. "There's no way this is going to be anything less than a disaster."

"Really, Starlight, you're worried over nothing," said Twilight Sparkle with a smile as she kept pace with her friend and student. "This isn't like trying to do a difficult friendship lesson or going up against Queen Chrysalis again."

Starlight's head whipped up, her eyes wide and shimmering. "No, it's far worse! It's high tea with Princess Celestia!"

"Honestly, darling, you should listen to Twilight," said Rarity, who trotted along on Twilight's other side. "The Princess is nothing but a delight to be around."

"And it's not like you haven't met her before," said Twilight. "You helped rescue her from Chrysalis. She had nothing but good words to say about you."

"Well, yes, at the time," said Starlight. "And she had more important things to worry about, like opening relations with the new changeling king. What if she's just biding her time to call me on the carpet for everything else I've done?"

"But you've done nothing to--" Rarity began.

"Oh, right, stealing the cutie marks of the Elements of Harmony is nothing. Conjuring random alternate timelines is nothing. Mind-controlling those same Elements during a botched solution to a friendship problem is nothing."

"I meant lately, dear."

"Starlight, Princess Celestia knows everything you've done," Twilight declared. "She's trusted me to decide what should become of you. She never doubted me taking you on as a student. If she had issue with it, she would've said something by now."

Starlight lifted her head and gave the palace ahead a wary look. "I really hope you're right about that."

Rarity chuckled. "I do admit, you remind me so much of how dear Twilight would react to such things."

Twilight blinked. "I never reacted that way."

Rarity raised an eyebrow.

Twilight blushed. "Well, okay, maybe I did. A little."

Starlight snickered. She angled her head so her gaze passed over Twilight's barrel. "How bad was she?"

Rarity waved a hoof. "One had only to make a mere suggestion that the Princess had some sort of test in mind to make her completely lose it."

"I had to be prepared!" Twilight cried. "I was still her student at the time."

"Even in such mundane matters as writing equipment, she went a bit overboard. I mean, really, three sets of normal quills, four 'lucky quills', and sixteen emergency backup quills!"

"And each one was cross-indexed according to what mishap caused me to have to use them," said Twilight. "In case the residual magical resonance of the accident affected the writing surface such that it became sensitized to what kind of spells were written with the quill prior to--"

Her words were drowned out by laughter from Starlight and Rarity. Twilight managed a small smile but blushed harder.

"Apologies for the laugh at your expense," said Rarity.

"It's fine," Twilight said, her smile widening. "But I guess I see your point."

"Hearing that story did help a bit," said Starlight. "In fact, it would be great if Rarity would come along with us."

"As much as I would love to, my main reason for coming to Canterlot was to see how my boutique is doing," said Rarity. "But I'll come along as far as the palace, if for no other reason than to see the latest fashion trends among the nobility."

"If it helps any, I'll likely be monopolizing Celestia's time a bit," said Twilight. "I want to hear everything about how her negotiations went."

"Is there really much to them?" Starlight asked. "Thorax seemed pretty willing to be friends."

"There are more changeling hives than the one Chrysalis ruled," said Twilight. "Celestia decided to see if the other hives would allow her to approach and open relations with them now that Chrysalis' influence is gone."

"I will be very happy to hear that things have gone well," said Rarity.

"So will I," said Twilight with a smile. "That will be the last real outside threat to Equestria."

Starlight turned her head. "Really? You mean, Equestria will have no real enemies after that?"

"None of any power to speak of. The Griffon Kingdom is an ally thanks to Rainbow and Pinkie's earlier efforts. The dragons are interested in peaceful coexistence with ponies, thanks to their new leader. Finally, Cadance and Shining Armor just wrapped up a trade pact with Yakyakistan."

"Is it true the griffons threatened war once?" Rarity asked.

"Yes, that's true," said Twilight. "The worst of it was when I was just a foal, before I was Princess Celestia's student. I was a bit too young to really remember what was going on at the time." She hesitated. "I tend not to want to think about it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"It brings back bad memories."

"But I don't understand," said Rarity. "You just said you were too young to remember it."

Twilight sighed. "Yes, but I did a paper on it once and ... I ... got a bad grade."

Starlight smirked. "You? Get a bad grade?"

"I know, I know! Don't rub it in!"

Rarity gave Twilight a suspicious look. "How bad was this 'bad' grade?"

Twilight shivered hard. "A-minus," she whispered.

Starlight and Rarity gave her a deadpan look.

Twilight swung her gaze between them. "What?"

Rarity smiled. "Nothing, dear."

Starlight grinned. "You know what? I'm just not as worried about this high tea anymore."

Twilight smiled. "Well, good, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Rarity and Starlight looked at each other over Twilight's barrel and winked.

Some of Starlight's resolve wavered as they trotted the wide hallways inside the palace, armed pegasus guards lining each side, their eyes tracking her carefully. Starlight looked down at her hooves and muttered, "Why do hoof-steps always echo ominously in places like this?"

"What was that, Starlight?" Twilight asked.

"Oh, nothing," said Starlight as the doors to Celestia's Day Court loomed ahead. "Um, you sure she won't be busy or something? Maybe we should come back later."

Twilight chuckled. "Princess Celestia set this up herself. She would be sure to clear her calendar." Twilight pointed. "See? No more nobles waiting their turn. The last one is probably finishing up now."

Starlight nervously waved a hoof. "Oh, well, then, maybe this noble has a long and complicated agenda, and he'll take ages to--"

The doors burst open, and a unicorn wearing the colors of Canterlot nobility cantered past them.

"Or ... not," Starlight concluded in a weak voice.

Twilight smiled. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting."

Starlight cantered to catch up with Twilight. With reluctance she swept her gaze forward and to the throne, yet instead of the gleaming alabaster white diarch of Equestria, her eyes beheld midnight blue.

Twilight stopped short. "Princess Luna?"

Luna smiled. "Good day, Twilight, Starlight. Please, come in."

"As much as I'm glad to see you, what are you doing here?" Twilight asked.

Luna rose to her hooves and approached, her astral mane trailing out behind her. "Filling in for my sister. She was delayed when her negotiations ran into a bit of trouble. She sends her regrets for missing tea with you and Starlight."

Starlight breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "It's no trouble, really!"

"Well, that's a shame," said Twilight. "Is she okay?"

"Indeed, she is," said Luna. "She simply needed another day. She will be back this evening and has rescheduled tea for tomorrow."

"Oh, then all we have to do is return to Canterlot tomorrow," said Twilight brightly. "Isn't that great, Starlight?"

Starlight's smile faded. "Yeah. Great."

"Normally, I would be delighted to take Tia's place and have tea with you," said Luna. "But my sister asked me to review a copy of the Yakyakistan trade pact. Cadance is anxious to see it approved in Canterlot."

"Of course, I understand," said Twilight. "I'm sure we can find something else to do today."

Luna nodded. "Thank you for understanding, Twilight. It's good to see you again. And you as well, Starlight."

Twilight turned away from Luna. "Let's see if we can find Rarity. She may still be downstairs."

They indeed found their fashionista friend chatting with a member of the nobility. Her eyes widened as she saw Twilight and Starlight. She immediately excused herself and cantered up to them. "Is something the matter?"

"Princess Celestia is delayed," said Twilight. "She won't be back until tomorrow, so she had to reschedule."

Rarity smiled. "While I'm sure you're a bit disappointed, this is an absolutely fabulous opportunity! After I finish up my visit to the boutique, we can make a day of it here in Canterlot."

"Yes, I agree!"

"Um, doing what, exactly?" asked Starlight.

"Why, shopping, of course!" said Rarity.

"Why, reading, of course!" declared Twilight at the same time.

Starlight glanced between them. "Um ..."

Rarity turned to Twilight. "Did I hear you right? Reading?"

"This would be a perfect time to visit the Canterlot Archives," said Twilight with a smile.

Rarity face-hoofed. "One does not come to Canterlot of all places to spend one's time with dusty old books."

"Those books are not dusty! The curator there maintains them very well."

"Darling, you're missing the point."

"But I could show Starlight the complete history behind the whole high tea ceremony," said Twilight.

"Ceremony?" Starlight said.

"When it used to be an excuse for a behind-closed-doors highly-charged political debate--"

Starlight's eyes widened.

"Or back before that when sometimes it was used to judge and decide sentence on those committing certain crimes against the state that--"

"What?!" cried Starlight.

"Or before that, when it was used to decide the fate of--"

"You know what?" Starlight declared. "Shopping it is!"

Twilight's ears drooped as she uttered a long sigh.

Rarity chuckled and stepped alongside Twilight. "After our little shopping excursion, I promise to show you something that will satisfy your unceasing quest for knowledge."

"Oh?" Twilight said.

"Something Sassy Saddles had told me she had stumbled upon the day before while looking for a new restaurant to try ..."

Twilight looked on in awe at the towering spires of immaculate white as they rose on either side of a wide stone street. The area remained largely deserted despite the hour being one of the busiest of the morning in Canterlot. Sunlight glinted off large windows whose tops were fashioned into high, sweeping arches. Roofs soared to tapering points of glittering metal and glass. Hooves clicked against colored stone done in mosaics of Celestia's and Luna's cutie marks.

"I don't think I've ever seen this place!" Twilight said in amazement. "Even in all the time I was here as Celestia's student."

Starlight shielded her eyes with a fore-leg from the glare of light off a window. "I didn't think they made buildings in this style anymore."

"They don't," said Rarity as she trotted ahead of them. She waved a fore-hoof at the nearest building. "Many of these were built very soon after Canterlot's founding. The nobility once lived here." She pointed to a rooftop. "They would fly flags with their family crests at the tops of those spires."

Noting a distinct lack of such flags, Twilight asked, "They don't live here anymore?"

"Oh, no, darling, not with today's breed of nobles insisting on everything being new and modern. They look down their muzzles at this 'old style rich.'"

"Well, that's just silly!" Starlight said. "I would love to live here."

"Even somepony as fashion-conscious as me realizes that sometimes old is best," said Rarity.

"Does anypony live here now?" said Twilight.

"Certainly. There are some businessponies with a taste for the old school. The official name of this street now is Old Canterlot Way."

"Yes, I have heard about this place after all," said Twilight excitedly. "I think my family knew some ponies who lived in this part of town when I was a foal."

Rarity smiled. "If it were me, I would've been quite jealous of my fellow foals who had the privilege of living here."

Twilight chuckled. "Not me. I would've been upset if my parents had moved here, assuming they could afford it."

"Are you kidding me?" Starlight said. "You'd pass up a chance to live where nobles once did?"

"While this place does look nice and quiet -- perfect for reading and studying -- it's simply way too far from the library. Not only that, but ... um ..."

Twilight stopped trotting. Starlight and Rarity continued on a few steps before realizing their companion had fallen behind. They turned towards her as Rarity said, "Something the matter?"

Twilight frowned and looked around. "Don't you feel that?"

Her companions exchanged a look before Starlight said, "Feel what?"

"That very odd magical resonance."

Starlight stepped over to her and looked around. She finally shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't feel anything odd at all," said Rarity.

"Hmm." Twilight lighted her horn. After a moment's concentration, she turned around and faced one of the smaller spires, which she trotted towards. "It's coming from that way and up."

Starlight followed. "Wait, now I can feel it. You're right, that is odd."

Rarity joined them. "I fear I must take your combined word for it, as it still escapes me."

Starlight turned to Twilight. "What do you suppose it is?"

"I don't know," said Twilight. She unfolded her wings and flew up until she was about three stories from the ground. She thrust a hoof forward. "There! It's coming from whatever room is on the other side of that wall."

"Now I am noting something rather strange about this place, and it has nothing to do with magic," said Rarity. "Where are the windows?"

Twilight flew a complete circle around the building. "You're right! There's not a single window, as if the place was sealed up somehow."

"That's not all," said Starlight. She pushed her hoof against the air just short of the front door. It went no further than the length of a fetlock before magic glared and rippled. "It's not just sealed physically."

Twilight flew to the ground and lighted her horn again. "She's right, this place has been magically sealed as well."

"Can you break the seal?"

"I could, but I'm not sure I should. Things get sealed like this for a reason."

Rarity stepped up. "And doesn't that reason usually involve something dangerous?"

"Yes, which is what makes this very strange," said Twilight. "There should be royal guards here, or some other form of official presence."

Starlight prodded the seal again. "Maybe somepony sealed it up and then just forgot about it."

Twilight turned to the others. "I better ask Princess Luna before I proceed any further. If there is a reason for this, she'll likely know."

Rarity smiled gently. "Maybe it's nothing to be worried about."

"Normally I'd agree with you if I could identify the magic I'm sensing," said Twilight. "Where it's completely foreign to me, I'm a little worried."

"Could Discord be up to his usual shenanigans?"

"I doubt it. I know chaos magic when I see it, and this isn't it." Twilight glanced down the street. "We should go back to the palace and see what we can find out."

"I'll take a rain check on that," said Rarity. "I still have a few things I want to finish up at the boutique."

"I'll come along," said Starlight.

Twilight smiled. "Thanks. Let's go."

Princess Luna paced the width of the throne room, looking thoughtful. "Old Canterlot Way, you said?"

"Yes, house number five-eight," said Twilight.

"I cannot recall that address off the top of my head," said Luna. "But then again, if that place was sealed before I returned from the moon, I would not be privy to it."

"Surely there has to be some sort of record about it," Starlight suggested.

Luna turned to face them. "That is exactly what I was thinking. My sister is a stickler for detail, especially concerning things such as this."

"So you don't think it's likely somepony simply forgot about it?" said Twilight.

Luna trotted forward and bid them to follow. "Very unlikely." Her horn glowed, and the doors to the throne room opened. The guards to either side bowed as she passed. "But we'll soon find out, as anything of this nature would be recorded in the public works section of the Royal Archive."

"Royal Archive?" Starlight asked.

"It's a special section of the general Canterlot Archives," said Twilight. "Concerned mainly with the day-to-day functioning of government."

Luna nudged open a set of tall gleaming metal gates with her magic, her hooves soon echoing against shiny tile in the subdued light. On either side, huge bookcases rose from floor to ceiling, and the aroma of old paper and cloth bindings hung heavy in the air.

Twilight smiled as she took a deep breath. "Ah, this brings back so many memories."

Starlight smirked. "To me, it just smells musty in here, but, whatever."

"Master Archivist!" Luna's voice rang out, but silence was the only response. She sighed and shook her head. "While Master Wordy Scroll is an excellent archivist, he is getting on in years and sometimes forgets to put on his hearing aid. I suggest you cover your ears."

Starlight blinked. "Cover my ears? Why--?"

"MASTER ARCHIVIST! THOU HAST VISITORS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE! THY TIMELY ARRIVAL WOULD BE MOST APPRECIATED BY US!"

Starlight quivered with her forelegs crossed tight over her head until the floor stopped shaking in the wake of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Twilight hid a smile behind her hoof.

The sound of galloping hooves approached, and soon a somewhat wrinkled old unicorn stallion with a brown coat and graying mane and tail skidded to a halt, both the hearing horn strapped to his head and his thick glasses almost tumbling to the floor. Age spots were scattered about his cutie mark, that of a long scroll completely filled with writing. "Yes, yes! Terribly sorry, Your Highness! I was simply nap -- er, I mean, cataloging! Yes, that's it!"

Starlight planted a hoof to her muzzle to suppress a giggle.

Wordy Scroll's horn glowed, and he pushed his glasses up his muzzle. He gasped in delight. "Oh, my, is that little Twily?"

Twilight chuckled as she stepped forward. "Not so little anymore, but yes, it's me. I had no idea you had been promoted to Master Archivist. I'm very happy for you."

Wordy beamed. "Thank you, Twily. Oh, I mean, Princess!"

Twilight laughed. "You can keep calling me Twily. I don't put on airs for old friends."

"You are simply too kind," said Wordy. "Now, what I can do for you all?"

"We wish to know about a location in the older section of Canterlot," said Luna. "Fifty-eight Old Canterlot Way."

Wordy looked thoughtful. "Well, nothing about it rings a bell, but let's see what we can find."

They followed him further into the library, where Wordy stopped seemingly at random before a bookcase. He looked up, his horn glowing as he plucked a book from among a hundred or so of its companions. "This is the residence manifest for that house," said Wordy as he laid the book on a reading lectern.

"Would this have a record if the place was sealed for any reason?" said Twilight.

"Yes, it would note that, Twily, but the actual sealing order would be elsewhere in the archive."

"The place is indeed sealed," said Luna. "Please find that sealing order for us."

Wordy was already backing away and nodding. "At once, Princess."

Luna opened the book with a glow from her horn as Twilight and Starlight stepped up. "Wow, look at some of these names in the first few pages!" Twilight said with delight. "I recognize the old noble families from Canterlot's founding."

"You would," Starlight said with a wry grin.

"Likely the last few pages are more relevant," said Luna before turning to the back. "Here. The last recorded time that this address was occupied was ... hmm."

"Just over twenty years ago, about when I was still a foal," Twilight said in surprise. She leaned forward and read the name of the pony who last lived there: Night Moonglow. "This name is not familiar to me."

Starlight stepped up and read the name. "Me, neither, but I'm not as up on Canterlot history as you are."

"But there's no record of it being sealed," Twilight said.

Luna frowned and turned a page back. "Nor for the previous resident. Or before that."

They glanced to the side as less eager hoof-steps approached and a glum Wordy appeared. "I'm terribly sorry, Princess, but I cannot find any sort of order for a seal on that residence."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

"Positive, Princess!"

"Could it have been misfiled?"

Wordy frowned. "A very outside possibility, but I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Luna turned away from the lectern. "I do not know what to make of this."

"Should we investigate?" said Twilight.

Luna glanced towards Wordy. "Thank you, Master Archivist. We'll be taking our leave now."

"Of course," said Wordy. "Sorry I couldn't be of more assistance."

"It's fine, Wordy," said Twilight with a soft smile. "I'll come back to visit soon and we can talk more."

Wordy smiled. "I'd like that, Twily, thank you!"

"I would hold off on doing anything just yet," said Luna as they entered the hallway. "Let me speak to my sister when she returns this evening. If anypony would know about it, she would. If not, I am sure she will be happy to let you get to the bottom of this."

"Looks like Rarity already left for the train station," said Starlight as she and Twilight stepped out of the Canterlot Boutique.

"It's too bad we have to head home," said Twilight. She sighed and glanced up at the sun. "I really wish we could stay until Celestia is back and can give us the go-ahead."

Starlight smiled. "Hey, I'm interested too. I want in on this."

"Of course. You think I would leave my student out of it?"

Starlight flicked her eyes to the side. "Well, you did seem to be going heavy on the friendship lessons and light on the magic lately. This sounds like something I can really tear into!" Starlight chuckled. "So to speak."

Twilight smiled. "I'm actually a bit eager myself for something interesting to investigate. I wonder if we should start with that last name on the residence roster, Night Moonglow."

Starlight tilted her head. "You mean Night Moonshine."

"No, it was definitely Moonglow."

Starlight frowned. "No it wasn't. It was Moonshine."

Twilight chuckled. "Now, Starlight, no offense, but I have a very good head for detail, especially considering my years of learning, and I tell you it was Moonglow."

"I don't care what kind of head you have, it was still Moonshine," Starlight declared.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Starlight rolled her eyes. "You're right, it's not that important. Never mind."

"Except you still think I'm wrong."

"Well, yeah, because you are."

"But I'm not!"

"Twilight, it doesn't matter!" said Starlight.

"I can't stand the idea that you think I'm wrong." Twilight abruptly turned away and cantered towards the palace. "Let's go."

"Huh?" Starlight galloped to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the archives. I'm going to prove this to you."

"But we'll miss the train!"

"I'll teleport us to the station!" Twilight cried. "Now, come on!"

Starlight sighed and shook her head. "Whatever."

Twilight stood at the lectern, her mouth dropped open, her pupils shrunk as she stared at the book before her. "I ... but ... how ...?!"

Starlight gave her teacher a satisfied smirk as she leaned a foreleg on the lectern and propped her head up with a hoof. She reached over with her other fore-hoof and tapped the page. "So what does it say there, o learned one?"

Twilight closed her mouth and frowned. "Night Moonshine."

"As I had said."

Twilight whipped her head towards her student. "But that's not what it said before!"

"Oh, come on, Twilight. Just admit that you're wrong and I'm right."

Twilight turned away from the book. "I agree that you're right in that Moonshine is what the book says now. But I'm positive it said Moonglow when I first read it."

"So you're saying someone edited the book in the two seconds it took between when you read it and I did?"

"With a properly crafted spell, yes, that's possible."

"Well, do you detect any magic like that on the book?"

Twilight looked back to the book. Her horn glowed, and she soon uttered a long sigh. "No."

"And why would anypony do something like that in the first place?" said Starlight.

"For the same reason there's no record of that building being sealed, to hide something."

Starlight glanced at the book and closed it with a nudge of magic. "Well, we're not going to find anything here. We ought to head back to Ponyville and wait for word from Princess Celestia."

"I suppose you're right," said Twilight. In a more contrite tone she said, "I apologize, Starlight, for doubting you."

Starlight turned away from the lectern, her fore-hooves clopping to the floor. "Eh, it's all right. Just promise me that we'll work on this together, okay?"

Twilight smiled. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Princess Celestia paused with the fork levitated halfway to her mouth. Outside, the moon hung low over the horizon, having just been raised by her sister. Finally, she slowly put down the fork, the morsel of dinner untouched.

Already, Luna had tilted her head at her sister's reaction, watching her carefully across the dining table. "Is something the matter, Tia?"

"No," Celestia said in a quiet voice. "I was merely thinking."

"So you know of this address?"

Celestia hesitated and glanced away for a moment. "I do."

Luna nodded. When nothing more was forthcoming, she prompted, "And?"

"And it's nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Luna blinked. "Well. That was unexpected."

Celestia managed a small smile, but her sister knew her well enough to tell it was forced. "Let me rephrase, please. It concerns something which happened while you were ... indisposed on the moon. Therefore, I don't believe you need to be worried about it."

"Twilight is worried about it," said Luna.

Celestia sighed, and her smile turned wistful. "Yes, she would be. I can assure you both that it is fully under control and needs no further investigation."

"So you do know why this residence was sealed?"

"Yes."

Another silence. Luna sighed. "And??"

Celestia picked up her fork again in her magic. "And there's nothing more to say on the matter."

"Except, perhaps, to explain to your own sister what this is all about."

Celestia paused to chew her bite of dinner, perhaps excessively as the tension hung in the air between them. "It's not something I'm prepared to discuss at the moment."

"So you will eventually tell me?" Luna said hopefully.

"I will. I just need to make a few discreet inquiries first."

Luna slowly nodded. "Twilight was concerned about the kind of energy she had detected."

Celestia hesitated before saying in a wary voice, "Did she identify those energies?"

"No, and that was her concern." Luna frowned. "Frankly, it is my concern as well."

"Twilight may be an alicorn and extremely well-versed in magic, but there are still things she does not know," Celestia declared. "And sometimes they are things that ought not to be known."

"I doubt that will sit well with her."

"Nevertheless, it is as things are," said Celestia. "Do you know there is a theory that states that Discord's existence is due to unicorn mages who themselves experimented with chaos magic? Supposedly, they accidentally gated him into our plane when they pushed things too far."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather fringe theory, Tia."

"I use it merely as an example, dear Luna. My point is, just because something can be done doesn't mean it should. That is largely what this is about, and I implore you to trust my judgment in this matter."

"As much as I don't like being in the dark, I do trust you," said Luna. "But I hope I do not have to wait long for an explanation."

"I will speed this along as much as possible," said Celestia. "To be honest, it would be nice to have somepony to speak to about this."

As the moon climbed to its zenith, and as Luna slipped deep into the collective dreamscape of ponykind, Celestia opened her eyes to the darkness of her room.

She lifted her head, and without looking in that direction, she cast a silence charm on the door so that her ever-vigilant guards would not hear her stir. She alighted to her hooves, which clicked softly in the dark. Her heart raced as she prepared herself.

A moment's concentration, a brief blaze of her horn, and space folded around her. In an instant, she left the calm air of her chamber for the cool, stiff breeze that blew between the buildings of Old Canterlot Way and lightly ruffled her fur. She had not even reopened her eyes before she cast a charm around her that would make her fade into the background to anypony who happened to spot her.

Celestia felt a sharp pang in her heart as she raised her eyes to the top of the sealed building. She stepped forward, the seal parting to let her by and re-sealing behind her. She lifted a fore-hoof and hovered it for a moment above the first step before she extended her wings instead. She flew up to the third floor, the smell of dust only just barely hiding the lingering odors of chemicals and magical plasma.

Celestia lighted her horn, casting a pale radiance on blank walls and the dust-choked floor. She let out a sigh as she swept her sad gaze around her.

She advanced into a room where the mere smells of old magic were joined by a tangible force, detectable only to Celestia. Or at least that's what it should have been; that it wasn't was why she was there.

Celestia took a deep breath, steeled herself, and cast the spell.

Where an empty space had been, now a large, glowing tear ripped across the room. The light glistened in Celestia's widening eyes as she beheld exactly what she had hoped not to see. For two decades, these energies has been waning. Now, they were surging again.

Celestia dispelled her magic, and the room became empty and unremarkable once more.

She took a deep breath and set her eyes hard. "Fine," she said softly to the empty room. "Now that you know something is very wrong, Celestia, what are you going to do about it?"

The empty room had no reply, and neither did she.

Chapter 3 - Family Matters

Harold rubbed a temple with his free hand, but it did little to quell his growing headache. He managed to suppress a sigh at yet another dressing down via his cell phone. As he turned from the wall of his home office, he realized only then he had been pacing. He gritted his teeth and fell into his chair.

"And furthermore, Mr. Tanner," said the female voice on the phone that had all the nuanced cadence of a rusty hinge. "I hope I don't need to point out the other reason besides safety why I don't care for these secret excursions of theirs."

Harold had little brainpower left for anything more complex than two plus two. "Perhaps it's best you point it out anyway to avoid misunderstanding, Mrs. Carlyle," he said in a tired voice.

Margaret (don't dare call her Maggie) Carlyle, mother of James, clicked her tongue. "Really, it should be obvious considering their age and ... development."

"So you seriously think my daughter would allow him to feel her up?"

Margaret gasped. "I resent the implication that my son is some witless, sex-crazed boy!"

"Well, then, you just answered your own question, and you have nothing to worry about," said Harold. "Unless you're implying that Jenny is some sort of budding harlot trying to lure him off the path of chastity."

"I never said that," said Margaret in a stiff voice. "Though she is a bit flamboyant."

"There's a huge difference between flamboyant and flirtatious, Mrs. Carlyle."

"The fact remains that she is still taking him to places they ought not to be!"

Harold let out a resigned sigh. "I'll talk to her. Good day." He hung up the phone before the woman could say another word.

He tossed the cell phone to the desk and uttered a curse. He frowned as his eyes followed where the phone had landed. He snatched up an envelope, addressed by his own hand to a George Tanner outside of Grand Junction. His eyes narrowed on the "Return to Sender, Refused" postal stamp.

Against his better judgment, he let his gaze drift to the framed picture above his computer monitor. A gangling teenage version of himself grinned goofily at the camera as an older man stood in dusty overalls beside him, practically beaming. Behind them, a brand new barn they had built stood awaiting the finishing coat of paint.

"Dad?" came a distant voice.

Harold turned his gaze away from a lost past and bolted out of his chair. "On my way, Bob."

Harold had to pause every time he said the boy's name. He had been so used to calling him "Bobby" until the kid decided on his sixteenth birthday a few months prior that he was too old for that name.

Harold bounded up the stairs and was soon standing in the doorway of the room of a boy with dark, rust-red hair. He was sitting up in bed, his hand-held video game console lying on the blanket beside him, next to an empty plate where a large sandwich had been reduced to crumbs. Harold gestured towards both and smiled. "You must be feeling better, champ."

Bob smiled wanly. "Yeah, I guess. Still feel kinda bad, and it seems chilly in here. Can you turn up the heat a bit?"

Harold kept his smile going with some effort. Even after as many years as Bob had been with them, his tone still sounded excessively formal even to the one he finally managed to start calling Dad. "I'd love to, but we have to watch costs. I can get you an extra blanket."

Bob shook his head. "It's fine," he said in a soft voice. "Maybe some water?"

"You got it."

Harold headed back downstairs and into the kitchen. Just as he held the glass under the faucet, the doorbell rang. He muttered "now what?" before filling the glass and heading out of the kitchen. He detoured towards the front door, yanking it open without bothering to look through the peephole.

Harold stared for a few moments as if in hopes that this would somehow make the visitor go away. When this failed, he finally blurted, "What are you doing here?"

A slim woman with straight, red-brown hair smirked. "Well, that's better than the usual greeting I get from you these days."

"No, seriously, Eileen, what are you doing here?"

Eileen McDermott tossed her head and brushed flyaway strands of hair from her pale green eyes. "Can I at least come in?"

"That depends," Harold said. "Let's try this again: what are you doing here?"

Eileen rolled her eyes in a gesture reminiscent of Jenny. "Maybe I happened to hear about the flu outbreak and wanted to see if my son was okay."

"He's still recovering," said Harold, standing at the door like a guard. "He was the last one of the family to get it. He'll be all right."

Eileen frowned. "Seriously, Harold, this is ridiculous. Let me the hell in."

Harold narrowed his eyes and did not budge.

Eileen uttered a windy sigh. "Fine. I'm not here for money. Satisfied?"

Harold hesitated, but finally stepped back from the door.

Eileen gave him a tight smile before stepping inside. She rubbed her arms. "Thanks. It's still ridiculously cold for late March, if you ask me." She glanced around. "Is my sis here?"

"Sarah is still on her way back from a dig."

Eileen brightened. "Well, then, this should be a pleasant visit."

"Whatever you really want--"

"I told you, it's to see my son."

"--it will have to wait until I give this water to him."

Harold lifted the glass only as a gesture to show what he was doing. The words had barely left his mouth when Eileen snatched the glass from him, splashing a decent portion of it over Harold and the carpet.

"What the hell?!" Harold exclaimed.

"I'll bring it to him," Eileen said as she ran past him, her long hair flying. "I'm here to see him anyway."

"I didn't say you could--!" Harold started.

"I didn't ask you," Eileen said loftily as she raced up the stairs.

Harold clenched his hands into fists. When he was a kid growing up on the farm, his father had kept a huge sack filled with straw tucked away in the back of the barn. Whenever his old man was so angry he could chew nails, he went out and punched that sack until his anger had waned.

Harold so wished he had that sack right then.

Despite her initial insistence, Eileen hesitated just outside her son's room. She never knew what to expect, and it had been months since she had tried to visit. She took a deep breath, put on as sunny a smile as she could muster, and stepped into the room.

Bob had gone back to his video game, and his eyes were glued to the screen. "Thanks for the water, Dad," he said without looking up.

Eileen stepped forward and set the glass down. "Hello, Bobby."

Bob's head jerked up, his eyes wide. He was about to speak when his moment of distraction caused him to lose a life in his game. He frowned and thumped the pause button.

"Sorry if I messed up your game," said Eileen as she sat on the edge of his bed. "You feeling all right?"

"I feel like crap still," said Bob. "Thought I wouldn't get it, but I started getting sick just as everyone else got better. Really weird."

"How so?"

"Everyone should've been past being contagious by then. That's how influenza usually works. There's an initial period of symptoms and contagion. The contagion is usually gone by the time the symptoms start to clear up." He paused. "Maybe you shouldn't be here. I'll just give it to you."

Eileen smirked and tousled his hair. "I'll take that chance. You haven't changed. Still my little Bobby, science nut."

Bob scratched his head. "Could you call me 'Bob', please?"

Some of Eileen's smile faded. "I've been calling you Bobby since you were little."

"Yeah, and I'm not little anymore. I don't let Da ... uh ... Uncle Harold call me that anymore, either."

"It's all right if you want to call him 'Dad'," Eileen said in a neutral voice. "He's been a hell of a lot more of a father to you than your biological father ever was."

An uneasy silence fell, and Bob gave his mother a troubled look. "Are you here to take me back again?"

Eileen's breath caught. For the first time in a long while, that question had been asked with an actual hint of hope. Bob had not even reached two when his father skipped out on them, and Eileen nearly had a nervous breakdown at the prospect of raising him alone. That was when Sarah and Harold stepped in.

"If I were, would you really be willing to come?" Eileen asked.

Bob didn't reply, and instead stared down at his video game.

Eileen's gaze flicked to it as well. "Harold buy that for you?"

Bob nodded. "Birthday present."

Eileen tried not to cringe. She had sent him only a card, as it was about what she could afford. "Bet he gets you all sorts of nice things, huh?" she said softly.

Bob shrugged. "I guess."

Eileen gave him a forlorn look, wishing she had more time to delve deeper into whatever was bothering her son. She managed a small smile as she stood up. "Hey, um, I'd love to stay longer, but my ride back to Denver is going to show up soon. Will you let me Skype with you?"

Bob looked up. "It won't cut into your Skype time with Jenny?"

"Not really, no."

"Because I don't want to be a bother."

Eileen rolled her eyes. "You're never a bother, Bobby. I mean, Bob."

Bob slowly nodded. "Okay, sure, then."

Eileen smiled. "Great. It was nice seeing you again." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Get better, okay?"

Bob gave her a faint smile. "I will."

Eileen waved and headed out.

Sarah uttered a weary sigh as she pulled her car into the garage. Her hopes of being home by noon had been dashed by a bad accident on I-70 that had traffic snarled all the way from the Eisenhower Tunnel. She would still be stuck there if she hadn't finally taken an alternate route.

After killing the engine, she snapped on the overhead light and pulled her ponytail into view. Had that red streak spread wider, or was it just her imagination?

She flung her hair back behind her and got out of the car. She thumped the button to close the garage door and barreled inside.

Harold met her at the other end of the hallway. "Hey, honey."

"Hey." Sarah gave him a peck on the lips before heading past him and towards the downstairs bathroom. "You take care of those chemicals like I asked?"

Harold followed. "No, I've had other things on my mind."

Sarah clicked her tongue as she stepped in front of the sink. "I asked you to do just one thing, Harry--"

"Look, don't get on my case, please. I've had enough crap to deal with today."

Sarah gripped the sides of the sink and let out a quick sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge myself."

"Something happen at the dig?"

"You could say that." She glanced at the cabinet partially behind her husband. "Get me the little scissors, please."

"Scissors? For what?" Harold asked even as he dutifully complied.

Sarah frowned. "For this." She pulled her ponytail around.

Harold stared. "What the hell?"

"My reaction exactly," said Sarah as she took the scissors from him.

"Sarah, no way in hell fumes from those solvents did this."

"Nevertheless, I'm not taking any chances." Sarah tugged the cherry red strands straight and started trimming them off. "Normally I'd just wash it, but if there is any chemical on it, I want it as far away from me as possible."

Harold realized arguing with her was pointless. "Look, I have something I need to tell you."

"Just a second," said Sarah in a distracted voice. She set the scissors down and examined her hair. "Do you see any more red?"

"Nope, none," Harold said after only a cursory glance.

"Okay, then what do you have to tell me?"

Harold started to turn around. "We better head out into the living room first."

Sarah's mouth dropped open. "Whoa, Harry, stop!"

"Huh?" Harold started to turn towards her. "What now?"

Even before the words were out of his mouth, Sarah had grabbed his arms and forced him to turn his back to her. Despite outweighing her almost two-to-one, he knew better than to resist when his wife was that forceful.

Sarah narrowed her eyes. She tugged down the collar of Harold's shirt.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" Harold asked.

Sarah stared. "Harry, the very tips of your hair on your neck have turned blue!"

"What? Oh, come on."

"I'm looking at it right now."

Harry turned around. "It must be a trick of the light or something."

"Oh, like my streak of red was. Uh-huh. That's it. I want those chemicals out of the house right now."

"You don't mean -- hey, wait!"

Sarah had rushed past him and towards the basement door under the stairs. Harold dashed ahead of her and stood in her path. "Harry, this is not the time to be obstinate!"

"Then stop being ridiculous," Harold declared. "Those chemicals in no way caused this."

"How do you know that? How can ... wait ..." Sarah turned her head and listened as faint voices came from Bob's room. "Who's he talking to?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you," said Harold. "It's Eileen."

Sarah gaped at him. "My sister is here? And you let her in??" she hissed.

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "She wanted to see Bob."

Sarah covered her eyes with her hand. "We've talked about this."

"What was I supposed to do, huh? Legally, she's still his mother and can take him out of here any time."

"You know as well as I do she'll never get her act together enough for that," Sarah snapped. "The fact that she's here and not in Denver taking care of our mother shows that. I've lost count of how many times she's tried to take Bob back only to send him right back to us. The last thing Bob needs is false hope that--"

She cut herself off when she heard someone coming down the stairs. "Hey, don't stop bad-mouthing me on my account," Eileen said with a smirk.

Sarah intercepted her at the bottom of the stairs. "Fine. You've seen Bob, now go."

Eileen grinned. "Nice to see you, too, sis." She stepped off the stairs. "Yeah, I'm going, no worries. My ride is about to show up."

"Why did you come out here?" Sarah demanded. "It can't be just to see Bob for all of five minutes."

"I was going around with a guy who wanted to get in some last minute skiing at Breckenridge," said Eileen. "His treat. So I took him up on it."

"And he's the one giving you the ride?" Harold asked.

"Nah, he turned out to be a jerk, so I dumped him."

"At the ski resort?" Sarah cried. "With no means to get back to Denver?!"

"Hey, I managed, I got a ride."

"And here I thought that just maybe you had gained a modicum of responsibility when you started taking care of Mom. Guess I was wrong."

Eileen frowned. "Look, she's in a fucking assisted living place. She doesn't need me around every single day."

"You know she gets lonely."

"Hey, I don't see you jumping in your car and visiting her. And frankly, the older she gets, the worse that Irish brogue of hers gets. I can barely understand her anymore." A car horn sounded outside. "That's my ride. See you later, sis," Eileen said before racing for the door.

Sarah watched her sister go and huffed. "What the hell else can go wrong today?"

"Jenny," Harold deadpanned.

Sarah lowered her head into her hands. "What now?" she said in a despairing voice.

"You know the old mill that they demolished last week? They were inside when the crews arrived."

Sarah spun around. "They?"

"Her and James Carlyle, the boy she's been hanging around with lately."

"It's bad enough she takes these risks, she has to drag others into it. What are you going to--?"

"I'm not going to do anything," Harold said firmly. "I give up. I can't get through to her. Maybe you can."

Sarah turned away. "She barely wants to talk to me anymore."

Harold stepped up to his wife and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Then stop talking at her and talk with her."

"I don't talk at her, Harry, I--"

"Yes, you do. You're so intent on trying to steer her interests to something more 'practical' that I think it drives her to do more outrageous stuff."

Sarah turned towards him and flung an arm towards the front door. "The person responsible for Jenny's outrageous behavior just walked out that door."

"Oh, come on, Sarah."

"No, I'm serious! They Skype with each other, what, two or three times a week now?"

"We have no idea what they're talking about," Harold declared. "We don't listen in on them."

Sarah folded her arms. "Maybe we should."

"You don't mean that."

Sarah lowered her gaze. "No, I don't. I just feel everything has been going wrong lately." She looked up. "Listen, I need some down time or I'm just going to start screaming at people. I'm going upstairs for a long soak."

Harold smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

Sarah drew her husband into a tight hug. "I hate it when we fight. Family shouldn't be this way."

Harold hugged her back, his mind's eye turning to the returned letter. "Yeah. It shouldn't."

James could easily listen to Jenny for hours.

By the end of the school day, Jenny had already modified her original concept. Realizing that parts of it were a bit clichéd, she had embellished and expanded it, adding more layers of intrigue and depth. James had never met anyone with such a soaring imagination.

He walked with her as she went on in detail about her concept until they stopped at a park bench. James sat, but Jenny continued to stand in order to act out scenes for him, at least until she said, "And for this next part, we need a change of scenery."

"Huh?" James said even as Jenny grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "No, we can't!"

"Yes we can!" Jenny said excitedly. She pointed past the edge of the park. "It's just that way, not too far."

James pulled his arm from her grip. "Didn't you hear a word I said this morning?"

"Oh, come on, you didn't think I'd take you seriously, did you?"

"I don't believe this," James murmured.

"Look, this isn't dangerous," said Jenny. "It's just a distant corner of a vast plot of land. There's a building there, but where it's on private land, it's not about to be demolished."

"Jenny, the key phrase here is 'private land'. What if the owner finds us?"

Jenny waved a hand. "A hiking trail runs right by the place. We claim we wandered in by accident. No harm, no foul. Given that there's nothing of value on the property, we'd hardly be accused of stealing anything."

James sighed. "And if I don't go, you're going to do it anyway, right?"

"Yep. Now, you can let the poor peasant girl suffer an unknown fate, or you could be her knight and protect the damsel from--"

James threw up his hands. "Okay, okay!" He grinned faintly. "You know the only reason I'm doing this is because I'm dying to hear the rest of the story."

Jenny smirked and took his hand. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, come on."

Doctor Kevin Conner leaned back in his chair, stretching and yawning before rubbing his blue-gray eyes as if to get them to focus better on the laptop screen. After a bit of useless and uncomfortable squinting, he gave up and fished out his reading glasses. He had only one more patient summary to write up, though he could have likely just cut and paste it from the previous one given how similar it was.

He had just slid his chair forward and began typing when a soft knock sounded at the door. "Come in, Heather," he said without looking up.

His assistant and nurse Heather Garron opened the door, a manila folder in her hand, which she tapped against her hip. "Please don't kill the messenger," she said as she brushed an auburn curl out of her soft brown eyes.

Kevin looked up and sighed when he saw the folder. "I thought we were going to close a little early today since we had those cancellations."

Heather stepped inside. "I know you're really beat. You've been going non-stop since this flu tore through the town."

Kevin stroked his beard. "Would've been nice if it stopped there, but now we're drowning in the usual post-flu complaints, most of which I can't do much about."

"Tell me about it. I only just got over mine. I am so jealous you never got it. You must have a supernatural immune system."

Kevin chuckled. "Oh, don't let Fred Turner hear you say that."

"Old man Turner?" Heather rolled her eyes. "No, he'd think you were one of those aliens the government is covering up."

"Maybe he's right." Kevin stood and raised his hands to either side of his head, extending his forefingers and waggling them. "I just hide my alien antennae really well."

Heather snorted and slapped the folder to his chest. "Anyway, I promise, she's your last patient. She begged me to let you see her."

Kevin opened the folder and raised an eyebrow. "Laura Tanner? Well, something must be up. The Tanners are pretty selective about when they see me. When the flu hit, only Harold came to see me when his cough was so bad it was making his ribs hurt."

Heather stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Get this: she's got bright orange hair."

Kevin's gaze rose. "Are we talking the same girl who's about as rebellious as a nun?"

"She claims it's not dyed, and that's what she's here to see you for," said Heather.

Kevin snapped the folder shut. "You take her vitals?"

"Yes. Everything's spot-on. She's in examination room two."

Kevin nodded and headed past her. He stepped down the hallway and opened the door. His more than twenty years experience as a general practitioner across two large cities before arriving in Lazy Pines enabled him to react with equanimity, though when Heather had said bright orange, he had not expected it to be day-glow bright. Or, for that matter, virtually exploding in thick curls where plain, straight hair had been before.

Kevin gave her a warm smile and closed the door behind him before approaching the distraught teen sitting on the end of the examination table. "Heather tells me you seem to be having an issue with your hair?"

"Well, isn't is obvious?" Laura said in a slightly quavering voice. "Look at it! I didn't do this to myself."

Kevin tilted his head as he looked. "When did this happen?"

Laura repeated what she had told Tina. "I'm not lying about this, Doctor Conner. I really have no clue how it happened. Hair is not supposed to be this color!"

"Well, that's true, in normal circumstances," said Kevin. "There are cases where hair can turn interesting colors from exposure to chemicals or bleaches."

Laura grabbed two fistfuls of curls. "But all of it? And this evenly?"

Kevin stepped closer. "Please, tilt your head this way."

Laura complied, and Kevin gently parted the curls. "You've had no scalp pain, no burning sensations?"

"No, nothing," said Laura.

"Did it do this all at once?"

"It came in over three days. First the color, and then this morning--" She waved a hand at her head. "--this stupid curly mess."

"I don't see any irritation or burns," murmured Kevin. He reached into his pocket for a small flashlight. "The color is clear to the roots."

"So do you believe me that this isn't dye?" Laura asked hopefully. "My friend Tina is into hair stuff. She says there's no way someone could dye hair this perfectly."

"May I clip a curl of your hair?"

"Go ahead," said Laura.

Kevin fetched a small pair of scissors and carefully snipped a curl free. He held it up to the light, then brought it over to the sink. He ran the water on its hardest setting and held the curl in the stream.

"I've tried that," Laura said with a sigh. "You don't want to know how much shampoo I used."

"Hmm," Kevin murmured as he shut off the water and trailed the hair against the stainless steel. He would expect to see at least a little color bleed. Instead, the hair remained a completely even shade of color. "I'll be very honest with you, Laura. Right now, my only diagnosis is that you have a chronic case of curly orange hair."

Laura let out a sigh of relief. "All I wanted was you to believe me that it wasn't dyed, because I don't want to take the chance that my parents will give me a hard time when I show them this."

Kevin gave her a disapproving look. "You haven't told your parents yet?"

Laura wrung her hands. "Look, I don't ... I don't want to look bad in front of them. I want them to think I'm responsible."

"Please, Laura, promise me you'll tell them tonight."

"Only if I can tell them they can call you to confirm."

Kevin nodded. "They most certainly can."

Laura smiled faintly. "Thank you. So you really have no idea how I can fix this?"

"At the moment, I'm not sure what this is," said Kevin. "There are conditions where the biochemicals associated with hair color can break down, but that process generally takes years. The only thing I can suggest is shaving it off and hope it grows back its normal color."

Laura's smile faded. "That's what I was afraid you'd say."

Kevin pulled out a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser. "Let me take another sample of your hair, and I'll send it off for testing. We'll go with the theory for now that this is some sort of very odd chemical reaction. If you don't want to shave your hair, I can recommend a brand of shampoo that's good for treating this sort of thing."

Laura nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Conner, I really appreciate this."

Kevin dutifully took a clipping and put into a specimen container before disposing of the gloves. "I'll let you know as soon as the results come in."

Laura hopped off the end of the examination table. "Thank you again," she said before heading out.

Kevin lifted the glass specimen tube into the air and held it to the light. "But if it's not dye, what is it?"

If James had not been following Jenny closely, he could have truthfully claimed to have become lost. Even on the hiking trail, it had so many forks and twists that he had little idea what direction he was going let alone where he was.

"Here, it's this way!" Jenny said as she suddenly darted to the side and disappeared between two thick tree trunks.

"Jenny, wait up!" For almost a full minute, James could only hear his companion and not see her as he slogged through wet snow drifts. By the time he finally spotted her, his heart was racing, and not just from the exertion. "Please, I can't keep up!"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I thought you were in better shape than that."

"Very funny." James looked behind him. "Crap, I can't even see the trail anymore."

Jenny waved a hand. "I know where it is, don't worry." She gestured around them. "And not seeing the trail is kinda the point. It really looks like we're deep in an enchanted forest!"

"More like lost in one," James murmured.

"Oh, stop it." Jenny glanced around. "My Dad would love a place like this."

"You've said. Still don't know why you don't ask him more often to--"

"Now, come on, the place I told you about is close by." Jenny plunged ahead, ignoring how the snow often came up to her knees. James hurried to catch up, uttering a curse when a low branch tried to snatch his hat from his head. "Here we are!"

James nearly crashed into her, and he blinked as he looked past her to a chain link fence that had seen better days. Several posts listed to one side, and the fence itself was splotched with rust. On the other side, dead weeds and grass littered a large field. "That's really weird."

Jenny stepped past him, walking along the fence and looking down. "What's weird?"

"Where's all the snow?" James asked.

"Probably the sun melted it."

"Jenny, we had two feet of snow just before the flu hit. I doubt it would be gone by now."

"You know what?" Jenny said without looking up. "You worry too much."

James shook his head, his gaze still sweeping over the field. His eyes fell on a long wooden structure, heavily weathered but still standing, and beyond it a maze of wooden fences and railings. He recognized it at once: it was an area cattle were herded into before loading them on transports. He reasoned this must have been a ranch at some time in the past.

"Here it is!" Jenny said. She smiled and pointed.

James stepped up to her. A post had completely come loose from the ground, and the fence had twisted enough over a low spot to create a gap.

"You don't seriously expect us to--" James began, but Jenny had already dived to the ground and was crawling through. "This is such a bad idea," James muttered as he followed. "Just how in hell can we claim we just wandered in?"

Jenny stood up on the other side. She clasped her hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet. "Oh, this is perfect!" She started towards the structure. "This can be the little house and fields of the peasant girl."

James followed, and his heart raced. Something felt off, like an unnatural sound in the distance only barely audible, or flickers of light persisting at the edge of his vision only to vanish when he tried to look at them. The air felt as if it were faintly electrified.

"This place is creeping me out, we ought to leave," James said in a quavering voice. "Can't you feel it, too?"

Jenny looked around. Save for the low whistle of the wind through gaps in the planks of the structure, the silence was near absolute. "You're ... y-you're imagining things. Come on, help me act out just one crucial scene and we can leave. Oo, look!" She pointed. "That makes a perfect fortress for the evil warlock!"

"Huh? The what?" James looked where she pointed. In the distance was a low structure that appeared as if someone had taken long concrete slabs and laid them together to form a nearly perfectly rectangular building. "Oh, fuck."

"Have to admit, though, looks more like a bunker than a -- hey!"

James grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the fence. "That's because it is a bunker! Shit, this is old man Turner's property!"

"Let go of me!" Jenny cried as she tried to drag him back with little success. "Damn, how the hell did you get so strong all of a sudden? And who the hell is Turner?"

"He's a survivalist nutcase, always raving on about government conspiracies and shit like that," said James. "He's the last person we--"

"Trespassers!" a voice bellowed behind them. "Infiltrators! Get out! Stay away from it!"

"Oh, shit," Jenny said in a tiny voice, and suddenly James didn't have to drag her anymore.

James steeled himself, fully expecting to hear gunfire and feel his flesh and organs torn apart, or, worse, hear Jenny scream in pain from her own wounds. He didn't dare take the time to look behind him, but simply bolted for the fence. His cap flew off and landed in the weeds.

The raving abruptly fell silent for a few moments. Then the man's voice rose again to a shout with a tone more of desperation than anger, "Wait! Come back! We can figure it out together! I didn't know it's happening to you, too!"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Jenny cried.

"Who cares?! Just go!" James yelled.

Jenny yelped when James pushed her through the gap first. His heart pounded so hard his temples throbbed. He tried to place himself between Turner and Jenny like a shield, biting his lip to prevent him from yelling at Jenny to hurry. When she was finally through, James plunged after her.

As James crawled through, Jenny turned and looked past the fence. A man stood hunched over in the thick of the weeds, his face haggard, a rifle clutched to his chest but not pointed at them. Jenny suddenly giggled.

James grabbed her hand and ran from the fence. Jenny frowned and yanked her hand away. "I can walk perfectly well, thank you."

"Don't walk, run!" James cried, though the snow drifts made this an impossibility.

"We got out, we're safe now." Jenny grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. "And I'm the one who knows the way back, remember? You're going the wrong way."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that!" James cried.

"Stop it. We came out okay."

James made an exasperated noise as he face-palmed. "Are you serious?! He could've shot us!"

Jenny paused. "Well, he did have a gun." She smirked. "But it was kinda hard to take him seriously."

James just gaped at her.

"You didn't see him?"

James shook his head.

Jenny giggled. "He had a big mess of bright peach hair and was wearing funny animal ears on his head. He looked even more ridiculous than my big sister."

Chapter 4 - Tea And Secrets

Of all the disasters Starlight Glimmer had anticipated concerning high tea with Princess Celestia, she encountered something far more dreadful than any she had imagined: boredom.

Starlight managed not to sigh as she levitated her cup of tea and took a sip. Not being much of a tea drinker in the first place, she had nursed her first cup while Twilight and Celestia were on their third. For perhaps the tenth time she tried to shoot Twilight an imploring look, but her alicorn friend continued to go on and on and on in her discussion with Celestia about the changeling negotiations.

"Starlight Glimmer, you've been rather quiet."

"Gah!" The cup shook in Starlight's faltering magical grip at the sound of Celestia's voice, spilling tea all over the front of her cushion.

Celestia smiled. "Allow me." Her horn glowed as she picked up a napkin and dabbed the wet spot.

"Sorry," Starlight said in a sheepish voice. "I, um, guess I haven't had much to say, Princess."

"Indeed?" said Celestia as she tossed the spent napkin into a waste basket. "From the way Twilight tells it, you are usually quite vocal in your opinions."

Starlight raised an eyebrow at Twilight. "Oh, is that what she said?"

"I meant it in a good way, of course," said Twilight with a smile. "You've taught me almost as much as I've taught you."

Starlight's gaze softened. "Well, um, thank you."

Celestia poured herself some more tea. "You appear to be brooding. Please, do speak what is on your mind."

Starlight's gaze flicked from Twilight back to Celestia. "Well, Princess Luna had told us she would speak to you about the matter concerning that house on Old Canterlot Way."

Celestia paused before setting down the tea kettle.

"Yes, thank you for bringing that up," said Twilight. She turned to her former mentor. "Did she ask you about it?"

"Yes, she did," Celestia said softly. She slowly smiled. "Thank you for expressing your concern, Twilight, but I assure you, the matter is in capable hooves."

"Oh." Twilight exchanged a troubled look with Starlight. "So you don't need us to investigate?"

Celestia's eyes briefly slid over to Starlight before returning to Twilight. "Us?"

"Where Starlight is my student in magic as well as friendship, I intended to include her. She expressed a keen interest in assisting."

"Very commendable, both of you," said Celestia. "But, as I said, unnecessary."

"So you already know what this anomaly is?" Twilight asked.

Celestia paused to take a sip of tea. "I do, and I have taken care of it."

Starlight frowned.

"What was it?" Twilight asked.

"A transient incursion of chaos energy," said Celestia.

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

"I shall make a note to take this up with Discord."

"But ..." Twilight exchanged a helpless look with Starlight.

Starlight gestured with a hoof and mouthed the words "go on."

Twilight took a deep breath and turned back to Celestia. "Princess, with all due respect, I think I know chaos energy when I see it, and this wasn't it."

Celestia set down her cup. "Twilight, I admire your ability to disagree with me when you feel strongly enough about something, but in this case, I fear I must insist that you accept my answer."

Starlight shook her head.

Twilight slowly nodded at Celestia. "All right, Princess. Thank you."

Starlight face-hoofed.

Celestia glanced at Starlight. "In fact, Twilight, might I suggest that you put your prodigious energies to better use, such as continuing your friendship lessons with your young protégé here."

"Oh, well, we are," said Twilight. "It just hasn't been our sole focus of late."

"Nevertheless, it is where your talents are most needed at the moment."

Starlight blinked. "Huh?"

Celestia gave her a gentle smile. "You are already a very powerful unicorn, dear Starlight, thus a shift of your focus back to friendship would be most prudent. Just a suggestion, of course."

Starlight gave Twilight a puzzled look, but Twilight could only shrug in confusion.

Celestia rose to her hooves. "As lovely as this has been, I must return to my duties. Thank you, Twilight, Starlight. Always a pleasure to see you."

Twilight started to open her mouth, but Celestia had already turned and headed away.

"I can't believe you let the Princess trot all over you like that!" Starlight exclaimed as they left the palace.

"I did no such thing," Twilight declared. "I simply deferred to her greater wisdom."

Starlight snorted. "Greater wisdom my flank. She's hiding something."

Twilight gasped. "Starlight! That's a terrible thing to say about Celestia!"

"Even if it's true?"

"Stop it. This really isn't up for discussion."

Starlight frowned. "You do realize you're her peer, right? You really don't need her permission."

"She's a ruler of Equestria, and I'm not," said Twilight. "She outranks me. Besides, it's common courtesy to defer to her in matters concerning Canterlot itself."

"Oh, right, just like you 'deferred' during your brother's wedding," said Starlight. "I saw the look on your face in there. You didn't buy what Celestia was saying, either."

Twilight sighed. "I admit, I was disappointed we couldn't investigate, but if she says that the matter has been cleared up, there's nothing to do."

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'll be the judge of that." She turned and cantered away.

"Huh? Wait, Starlight! Where are you going?" Twilight cried.

"To Old Canterlot Way! I want to see for myself just how much this has been 'taken care of.' Now, you coming along?"

Twilight galloped to catch up. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not? Last time I looked, we're free ponies allowed to do whatever we want within the law. Unless Princess Celestia comes up with some decree that we can't--"

"All right, all right!" Twilight cried. "You can be one stubborn unicorn when you want to be."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, come on."

Starlight was the first to enter the old street, with Twilight trotting just behind her, glancing about nervously as if expecting to see the royal guard suddenly swoop down on them and demand to know what they were doing. Despite knowing full well she did not have to defer to Celestia in everything, Twilight still sometimes had trouble shaking loose of her old role as Celestia's student.

Starlight stopped before the building and glanced up. "This is the place, right?"

Twilight stopped next to her. "Yes."

Starlight tilted her head and frowned. She lighted her horn briefly, then stepped forward. "Hrmm."

"See, I told you we could trust her," said Twilight. "I'm not sensing the disturbance anymore, either."

Starlight lifted a fore-hoof and poked the air before her. Magic rippled and swirled. "Then explain to me why the seal is still in place."

"It is?" Twilight stepped forward and repeated the gesture. "Well, maybe she forgot to remove it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You don't seriously believe that."

"Ponies forget things all the time, Starlight."

"She's the immortal Princess of the Sun! I don't think she would forget something like this." She sighed and stepped back. "Fine, I'll go take a closer look myself."

A magical aura surrounded her entire body, and she levitated herself until she came level with where Twilight had detected the anomaly the strongest.

"Well?" Twilight called up from below.

"I'm not detecting the anomalous magic."

"Good. Now, let's get to the train station and--"

Starlight turned towards her companion on the ground. "But what I am detecting is a shield!"

Twilight's mouth dropped open. She extended her wings and flew up to Starlight, turning her glowing horn towards the building. "You're right!"

"So tell me again how Princess Celestia is not hiding something?"

"But, well, there's got to be a logical explanation for this."

"Yeah, there is. The anomaly is still there, and all that's happened is that the Princess slapped a shield around it."

"But this makes no sense," said Twilight. "If she did want to hide this from me, she would know I could detect a shield. I mean, you detected it, for goodness sake."

"Unless she expected you to be a good little former student and do whatever she told you to do, and this was just to prevent other ponies from finding it." Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Or it's here to prevent whatever this is from getting worse."

"But that would mean she doesn't know what to do," Twilight countered. "And in that case, she'd come right to me for help. She did it when Discord showed up, she did it with the Crystal Empire, she did it with Tirek, so why wouldn't she do it now?"

Starlight lowered herself to the ground, Twilight joining her as the levitation aura faded. "I honestly don't know," said Starlight in a more contrite voice. "But none of this is adding up, and that means we should investigate anyway. Admit it, you can't give me a good reason why we shouldn't."

Twilight glanced first up at the building and then back the way they had come. "I feel like it would be going behind Celestia's back."

Starlight stepped up to her. "You said before that Princess Celestia outranks you, but so does Princess Luna, and she's obviously concerned about it. How about doing it for her sake?"

"We haven't spoken to her since yesterday," said Twilight. "She could very well be content with Celestia's explanation."

"Now you're really grasping at straws, Twilight."

"Can you blame me? You're asking me to reject the trust I've built up between myself and Celestia!"

"Then prove it to yourself that there's something to actually be worried about here!"

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Well, that depends," said Starlight. "Can you break through the shield?"

Twilight recoiled. "I'm not dispelling the shield! If it is there to contain--"

Starlight waved a hoof. "Fine, then can you find a way to look through it? All I want to do is confirm the anomaly is still there."

"Hmm," Twilight mused. "That might be tricky."

"Well, if anypony can do it, you can." Starlight smirked. "I've had first-hoof experience with how good you are with shield spells. You don't want to know how many times in our, ah, altercation that I wanted to scream at you to stop with the stupid shields already."

Twilight smiled faintly. "All right, let me see what I can do." She flew back up the side of the building. "I think I can project an energy wave at the shield that will cause it to resonate at a specific frequency, which in turn will ripple through the thaumic matrix and reflect back to me an impression of the anomalous energy on the other side."

Starlight grinned. "In other words, you're going to make it ring like a bell and listen for the echo."

"Didn't I just say that?"

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Right."

Twilight's horn glowed. "Here goes." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "Hmm. The shield is a bit stiffer than expected, but ... wait, I'm getting some interference ... let me work around it, and--" She suddenly gasped and recoiled, her eyes flying open as the glow in her horn died.

"What happened?" Starlight called up.

Twilight dashed to the ground, landing with a hard clop of her hooves. "There's an additional spell on the shield. It's like an anti-tampering alarm. If I had continued any further, I would've triggered it!"

"Uh-huh," said Starlight. "But, of course, Princess Celestia isn't hiding anything. Nope, not a thing."

Twilight frowned and folded her wings. "You've made your point."

"Now can we investigate?"

Twilight glanced up at the building. "Well, we can't do anything here, not without alerting Celestia to what we're doing."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess our next course of action is to head over to the Canterlot Archives," said Starlight.

Twilight smiled. "Of course! We know the approximate time period when somepony last lived here. We should examine any document that might be relevant."

"So long as we don't have any trouble retrieving them."

"What trouble could there possibly be, especially with my old friend Wordy Scroll running the archives now?"

Twilight's pupils shrank. "What do you mean, 'no'?!"

Wordy Scroll cringed and tucked his tail between his hind legs. "I-I'm terribly sorry. This is very awkward, you know, you being a good friend and a princess yourself--"

"Yes, I am a princess!" Twilight bellowed. "Therefore, I order you to give me access to those documents!"

"But I can't!" Wordy whined. "Princess Celestia herself has placed a temporary hold on all information pertaining to that time period."

"This is ridiculous!" Twilight thundered. "She wouldn't restrict it from me, a fellow princess and former student!"

"She was very specific in her wording, Twily. She said absolutely nopony but herself shall have access to them until further notice, no exceptions. She did say she hoped it would not be for long, so perhaps if you come back in a few days?"

"I doubt that will help," Starlight muttered.

"I'm beginning to agree with you," said Twilight.

Starlight stepped closer and whispered, "You sure you don't want me to, ah, I don't know, drop a mind magic spell or two on him?"

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Absolutely not."

Starlight shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Twilight turned back to Wordy. "Can I at least ask you to not report this to Celestia?"

Wordy scraped the floor with a hoof. "She told me I was supposed to report all inquiries for--"

"Can you do it as a favor to an old friend? Please?"

"Oh, all right," said Wordy in a reluctant voice. "I promise not to tell her about this."

Twilight let out a windy sigh. "Thank you."

"If you want, I can send you a letter when Celestia lifts the restriction."

"Yes, you do that," said Twilight as she turned away.

Wordy gave them a sad look as they left.

"And I know what you want to say," said Twilight in irritation as they stepped outside. "So don't."

"I don't think I have to," said Starlight.

Twilight lowered her head, her ears drooping. "This really has me upset, Starlight. Not only is this forcing me not to trust Celestia, it's like she doesn't trust me anymore. I don't know what to do."

"You said when you were young, Princess Cadance used to foalsit you. So she was likely old enough to recall if anything had happened about the time the building was sealed."

Twilight looked up. "That's a great idea. I'll dictate a letter to Spike as soon as we're back in the castle. Maybe she can shed some light on this."

Twilight's horn glowed, and yet another book slipped from a high shelf in her library and floated to the table beside a growing tower of similar books. Her hooves echoed in the quiet as she stepped over to the table and flipped it open with her magic. She frowned in concentration before finally slamming the book closed. She turned away as she levitated it to the top of the stack.

At the door, a wary Spike drummed his claws together. "Um, Twilight? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Twilight looked up and selected another book. "I'm trying to find any evidence of some historical event that led to that building being sealed."

Spike stepped inside just as the latest book landed on the table. He picked it up. "The Illustrated History Of Furniture?"

"Look, I'm desperate, okay?" Twilight said as she snatched the book out of his claws in her magic. "Maybe the place had a magical sofa that got out of hoof. Or an enchanted hassock that developed an attitude."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Twilight skimmed through the book before closing it and levitating it to the top of the stack. "No theory is too crazy, Spike."

Gentle hoofsteps stopped at the door, and a soft voice said, "Um, is this a bad time?"

Twilight turned. "Not at all, Fluttershy, please come in," she said in a lower voice.

Fluttershy stepped inside. "Starlight said you wanted to see me?"

Twilight approached her. "You said Discord is always telling you funny stories about stuff he did, right?"

Fluttershy smiled. "Oh, yes. They're pretty amusing."

"Do you recall him saying he did anything in Canterlot?"

"He's played pranks on Princess Celestia from time to time, if that's what you mean."

"Did he ever mention the street Old Canterlot Way?"

Fluttershy looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, not that I can recall. Why?"

Twilight sighed and turned away. "Just checking on something, that's all."

Fluttershy stepped towards her friend. "You seem really upset, Twilight. Is there something I can do to help? Did Discord do something he shouldn't?"

"Not this time, apparently." Twilight muttered, "That would've been too easy."

"I don't understand," said Fluttershy.

Spike turned towards her. "Apparently, Princess Celestia is hiding something--"

"We don't know that for sure yet!" Twilight cried.

"--inside a sealed building in an older section of Canterlot."

Fluttershy's eyes widened. "Oh, my, why would she do that?"

Twilight whirled around. "Exactly my point! There couldn't possibly be anything so bad that--"

Spike abruptly belched green fire, and a scroll popped into existence. He grabbed it in his claws and started to unroll it. "It's from Princess Cadance."

"Starlight!" Twilight called out. "We got a reply!"

A few moments later, Starlight rushed inside.

Spike unrolled the scroll fully. "Ahem. Dearest Twilight, it is always a pleasure to hear from you, and, of course, Shining Armor sends his love as well. I do know of the street of which you speak, but unfortunately I know of no incident that would result in a building being magically sealed. The only event of import during that time period was Auntie Celestia having a hard time dealing with the Griffon Kingdom, and she once confided in me that she worried the situation would result in war. I know you are upset that Celestia appears to be acting in an uncar ... um ... uncharack ... uh ..."

Twilight glanced over his shoulder. "Uncharacteristically."

"What-she-said secretive manner," continued Spike. "But my experience has been that she always does things for a reason. Perhaps a little more time and patience is all that is needed. Please keep Shining Armor and myself informed of the situation. Love, Cadance."

"Well, that was a big dead end," Starlight muttered.

"Or maybe not," said Twilight. "There's a lot about that period of time that is not publicly known. Celestia's final round of negotiations with the griffons was carried out largely in secret, and the details of the final peace treaty were sealed."

"But don't you have access to that information?" Fluttershy asked.

Twilight sighed. "Well, I did. I never bothered to go look at the details myself after I became a princess."

Starlight grinned. "Obviously due to your lingering trauma over that A-minus."

"Yes."

Starlight blinked. "Um, I was kidding."

Spike leaned over to her. "But she's not."

"But what would griffons have to do with a sealed building in Canterlot?" asked Fluttershy.

"I'm not sure," said Twilight. "But I have an idea how we might find out."

A piercing whistle sounded in the skies high above Ponyville, where several young pegasi hovered above slowly drifting clouds. They immediately stopped chatting and turned their full attention to their rainbow-maned instructor.

Rainbow Dash let the whistle fall from her mouth and hang from her neck by its string. "Okay, listen up, you noobs! I want a show of hooves. Who thinks they know how to fly?"

The pegasi exchanged confused glances. Slowly, they all put up a fore-hoof.

Rainbow nodded seemingly in approval. "Hmm, all of you, I see," she mused as she drifted towards the front ranks of the pegasi. She suddenly knocked the raised fore-hoof of the nearest pegasus aside. "Wrong answer! Yeah, maybe you know how to flap your wings and stay airborne, but there's flying, and there's weather flying. Controlling the weather takes a whole other set of skills. Maybe some of you are fast, but, again, there's a huge difference between flying in a straight line and making a sharp turn to corral a storm."

She hovered back and forth before them. "Now, the basics are actually not that hard. Pegasi have a natural instinct for this. Left on your own, you'd figure it out. You'll be at least competent." She stopped and faced them. "But if you're gonna be on my weather team, you gotta be better than competent, and I let only the best handle weather over Sweet Apple Acres! Now, first things first. I'm gonna run you through some simple exercises ..."

After she had all the pegasi performing basic tasks like pushing clouds together and generating breezes or light rain showers, she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Hey, Rainbow."

Rainbow Dash turned around. "Oh, hi, Twilight."

Twilight flew up to her. She glanced towards the others. "Latest batch of recruits?"

Rainbow grinned. "Yeah. Typical noobs. I think I can whip them into shape." She leaned over and whispered, "They're actually showing some good promise, but don't tell them I said that."

Twilight chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me."

"So what's up?"

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"Sure thing! This first class won't take long. What do you need?"

"I need you to talk to your friend Gilda."

Rainbow's eyes widened. "Gilda? As in, head off to the Griffon Kingdom and talk to her kinda thing?"

"I know it's a bit of a long trip, but--"

Rainbow snorted and waved a hoof. "Did you forget who you're talking to? Only reason it took a while last time was because I was with Pinkie. If I'm going solo on this, I can get there a lot faster. What do you want me to talk to Gilda about?"

"I want you to ask her if she or anyone she knows has any knowledge about a geopolitical incident between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdom about twenty years ago."

Rainbow blinked. "A geo-what now?"

Twilight sighed. "Just ask her if she knows of any stories about her people and ponies going to war over something."

"Wow, that actually happened?"

"Some sort of incident, yes, but thankfully not a war. Other than that, though, I'm having difficulty tracking down information about it."

Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane. "I dunno, this is starting to sound like egghead stuff."

Twilight smiled, her horn glowing as she plucked a scroll from her mane and gave it to Rainbow. "No worries, I jotted down a few talking points."

Rainbow let the scroll unfold. She quickly lost sight of the other end through a cloud far below. "Er ... right. Look, this sounds like something more up your alley. Why send me?"

"It's a bit of a long story," said Twilight. "Let's just say I don't want to raise certain suspicions and leave it at that."

Rainbow smiled. "Okay, now it's starting to sound interesting. So I should keep this quiet?"

"Definitely."

"You got it, Twilight! I won't let you down, I promise."

Twilight's hooves echo far more than usual as she trots towards her former mentor's throne room. She is both mystified and worried by this unexpected summons, delivered to her as if she is still but the lowly student. She tells herself she has no reason to fear this invitation despite its urgency, yet she cannot shake the feeling that she is being called to task for something she has done.

"No, stop it, you're being silly," says Twilight, her voice sounding much louder than normal, echoing as if she is in an enormous, abandoned chamber rather than the halls of Canterlot Palace. "You're a princess yourself. As Starlight said, I'm her peer."

Nevertheless, she pauses at doors that soar overhead into infinity and swallows hard. Her heart hammers, and her eyes glisten with uncertainly. She finally takes a deep breath, steels herself, and throws the doors open.

"It is about time you got here!" a voice thunders from the other side of the room.

Twilight gasps and backs up a step, one fore-hoof raised and trembling as she stares at the visage sitting upon Celestia's throne. Her mane is ablaze, as if on fire, and her eyes glow with such intensity that Twilight cannot stare at them for more than a few seconds at a time.

Twilight turns her head away. "I got here as soon as I could!"

"Lies!" Celestia's voice booms, shaking the floor with its vehemence. "You compound your falsehoods with more falsehoods! I will not tolerate this!"

Twilight forces herself to raise her head and twist her muzzle into a deep frown. "And I will not tolerate being treated this way! I am a fellow princess, and thus deserving of--"

Celestia throws her head back and laughs before leveling her gaze at Twilight. "You will be silent." She slowly descends from the throne, each hoofstep leaving behind a smoking, charred mark in its wake. Her cutie mark glows as if it is the sun itself.

"Why?!" Twilight demands. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Oh, my dear little Twilight, how can you be so naive after all these years?" Celestia sneers. "OF COURSE THOU HAST DONE SOMETHING TO OFFEND US!"

Twilight shivers as she jams her fore-hooves to her ears. She has never heard Celestia use the Royal Canterlot Voice in such close proximity and hopes she never does again.

"Did you not think I would find out?" says Celestia. "Did you not think I would notice your attempts to cover it up?"

A cold knot of fear settles into Twilight's stomach. "I-I can explain! Please, let me--"

Celestia stomps a fore-hoof against the floor, shattering tile and glass. "There can be no explanation for this!"

"But I was only concerned about the safety of Canterlot!" Twilight wails. "I was concerned about YOU!"

Celestia raises an eyebrow. "What are you babbling about?"

Twilight hesitates, glancing to the side. "Isn't this about the anomaly I'm investigating?"

Celestia fixes her burning gaze on her former student, and at once Twilight feels as if she is in an oven. "What I speak of, little pony, is THIS ..."

In a sparkle of magic, a paper materializes on the floor before Twilight's hooves. She tilts her head in confusion until she sees the "A-" in red in the upper right corner. She gasps and recoils. "Wh-what??"

"Look what it says, you miserable excuse for a princess!" Celestia declares. "A-MINUS!"

Twilight's pupils shrink to pin-pricks. "Y-You can't be serious!"

"NO PRINCESS OF OUR REALM SHALL BISMIRCH HER ALICORNHOOD WITH SUCH A DISGUSTING GRADE!"

"I have no idea how it happened!" Twilight bellows in as much rage as fear. "Don't you think I agonized over it for weeks?! I got one little reference wrong! The teacher recalled seeing something else in the text, but I was sure ... I ..."

Twilight's mouth drops open.

"And you continue to compound your crime with more worthless blather!"

Twilight is not listening. "Wait! That oddity that happened earlier with the ledger, when Starlight and I saw something different ... what if that's what happened to me with that paper? What if the text somehow changed between when I read it and my teacher did?" She gasped. "Then there IS a connection with the griffons! But how could text be made to--"

She is startled out of her reverie by Celestia stomping both fore-hooves on the floor. Twilight shrieks as a crack in the floor shoots towards her, and she just barely makes it into the air in time.

Celestia steps forward. "You do not deserve to be an alicorn, but we have no recorded means to demote you. So I will invent one now." Her eyes become blinding, and her horn blazes. "I will burn your wings off."

"No, stop, wait!" Twilight cries.

"SISTER!"

Twilight's heart leaps into her throat as another earth-shaking voice joins the fray. Celestia turns in time to see Luna approaching, her mane and eyes similarly ablaze. "Do you think to do this without me present?" Luna booms. "I am disappointed."

"Far be it from me to deny my own kin," says Celestia. "Would you prefer to take the first shot?"

Luna's mouth twists into a terrifyingly feral smile. "Gladly."

Her horn and eyes blaze. Twilight whimpers and covers her eyes with her hooves. She flinches when she hears a blast of energy, followed by a scream, and then nothing.

"Twilight," says Luna in a far gentler voice. "It is okay. You may open your eyes."

Twilight swallows and drops her hooves. A smoking crater stands where Celestia once did. "Y-You ... you just ..."

Luna steps forward, her eyes and mane back to normal. "This is a dream, Twilight."

"A dream? Oh, thank Celestia! Um, I mean--"

Luna chuckles. "It is all right. I am sorry I did not come sooner."

Twilight shakes her head. "No, it's fine. This actually helped me come to a realization about something."

"I do hope it is about that anomaly."

"It is. But how did you know?"

"More of a fortuitous guess." Luna sighs. "Twilight, I hope this means you are actively investigating it, as it removes a tremendous burden from me."

"What burden is that?"

"The burden of begging you to take on this task."

Twilight's eyes widen. "Beg me? Why?"

Luna starts to pace. "I am worried for my sister. She is acting increasingly paranoid about this subject. Something is wrong, and she refuses to tell me."

Twilight lands and steps up to Luna. "Celestia is blocking everypony from obtaining any information from the Archives about that time period."

Luna nods. "I am aware."

"If you can do anything to get me around that block--"

"I fear I cannot." She pauses. "But there is something I can obtain for you. I do not believe that Tia is aware I know of its existence. It is a private journal she has kept for many, many years. It covers many volumes, but I believe I can find one from that time period."

Twilight's pupils shrink. "You mean, like a diary? But that ... that will have a lot of personal information in it! I feel like I would be violating her privacy if I read it."

"I will not force you to read it. I will give it to you, and you will choose to do as you wish with it."

Twilight lowers her head. "I don't know about this, Luna."

Luna steps forward and places a fore-hoof gently on Twilight's shoulder. "I understand, but I fear whatever this is, it is bigger than anything we can imagine. We need to get to the bottom of it. For my sister's sake."

Twilight lifts her head. "I'll do everything I can to help."

Chapter 5 - Responsibility

Sarah awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of arguing.

"--wasn't me who spent five zillion hours washing her hair."

"This is not my fault!"

"If you hadn't gotten your hair all stupidly orange and curly--"

"For the last time, Jenny, I didn't do this!"

"Even Mom didn't believe it at first. She had to go and call Doctor Conner to--"

"That was only to ask about Dad's chemicals in the basement!"

Sarah groaned and rolled over in bed. "Harry?" she said in a groggy voice. Can you go see what they're ... urg ..."

The other half of the bed was empty.

She slid her legs over the side and frowned as she glanced at her cell phone. Greg had sent her a text message. She grabbed the phone as she stood up and struggled into a robe as fast as her half-awake state would allow.

Sarah opened the door to her bedroom and flinched when the argument erupted into full volume. Laura was dressed while Jenny still stood in a bath robe.

"All I'm saying is, just because you're the Fae Queen doesn't mean you get to hog the shower," Jenny said in a lofty voice.

Laura covered her eyes with a hand. "Will you please stop calling me that?"

"Sorry, Your Majesty, but your secret is out. Your magic is so powerful that you cannot disguise your true nature any longer. Why, I bet your ears will go all elfin by lunchtime."

Laura shivered hard. "I swear, Jenny, I am one step away from--"

"Enough!" Sarah declared. She pressed the back of her hand holding the cell phone to her forehead briefly and sighed. "I don't even want to know what this is about. I have a very busy day ahead of me and don't need this. Jenny, go take your shower before you're late for school."

"Can't," said Jenny. "Carrot-top here broke the water heater."

"I did not break it!" Laura bellowed.

"Laura, lower your voice," Sarah said.

"All that happened was that the pilot light went out again," said Laura. "Dad's in the basement fixing it now."

"He's been at it for twenty minutes," muttered Jenny.

"Then take a cold shower," said Sarah.

"But it's freezing in here already!"

"Jenny, I don't want to hear it," Sarah said. "You're already one step away from being grounded for your little escapade at the mill. Don't push it."

Jenny sighed dramatically and turned away. "Fine," she muttered before stomping towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Laura gave her mother a sheepish look. "Um, I better finish getting ready for school."

"Wait," said Sarah.

Laura's shoulders sagged as she turned back around.

Sarah stepped up to her. "This is not like you, Laura. You generally don't let her rile you up so much that you openly argue with her."

Laura could not bring herself to meet Sarah's eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I'd like to know why it happened at all. I usually can count on you to be the mature one. So what's going on?"

Laura slowly raised her eyes to her mother's. "I'm really worried about what's happening to me, Mom."

Sarah touched one of Laura's curls. "Well, I can't promise that you won't take some teasing from this, but--"

"That's not what I mean. I woke up this morning feeling ... well, weird."

Sarah folded her arms. "Define 'weird'."

"That's just it, I can't. I mean, sometimes it's like a buzzing in my ears. Sometimes a tingling or ache in a strange place. I don't feel normal, and I don't mean just the hair." She paused. "When Jenny made that stupid joke about my ears, it really got to me. I'm not sure why."

"She's just trying to push your buttons," said Sarah.

Laura shook her head. "I don't think that's it. I don't even understand it myself."

Sarah gave her daughter a concerned look. "Do you want to see Doctor Conner again?"

"I'm not sure what that would accomplish. Even he didn't know what was up with my hair. All I can do is wait for the test results to come back."

"If it helps any, I made your father pack away his chemicals for now."

"I honestly don't think that caused it," said Laura. "Even the doctor said so."

Sarah was beginning to realize the same thing, but she wanted to feel like she was doing something to help. "All right. If you do start feeling sick, don't hesitate to tell me about it."

Laura nodded. "I won't."

"I'll go see how Harry is doing," Sarah said as she started to turn away.

Laura gasped. "Mom!"

Sarah whirled back around. "What is it?"

Laura's eyes were wide. "Y-your hair ... there's a big streak of red through it!"

Sarah scrambled to reach around behind her and pull her hair into view. Where a narrow band of cherry red hair had been excised the night before, she now had a streak two inches wide and stretching further up towards the top of her head.

"That's how it started with me," Laura said in a hollow voice. "Streaks up the back that spread."

Sarah stared as if she were still trying to convince herself what she was seeing.

"Mom, what the hell is happening?"

"I have no clue," said Sarah in a toneless voice.

Harold muttered a curse as he tried unsuccessfully for the seventh time to light the pilot on the aging water heater. He told himself that it was the heater that was faulty and not himself, but that proved difficult when plagued by memories of that returned letter.

He drew back from the heater and stood up as he heard footsteps descending into the basement. He turned around to see his wife step off the stairs, her finger tapping out a text message.

"Honey, you know you make me nervous when you text at the same time you're trying to navigate those steep stairs," said Harold.

Sarah unerringly weaved around boxes as she approached, head still down. "And I keep telling you I do this all the time at digs and never had an accident."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "So what's the deal?"

"Greg's going to get pics of those petroglyphs."

"That soon?"

Sarah finished sending her message and looked up. "He doesn't want to take any chances that something will happen to them."

"They're kinda attached to the cliff, aren't they? Not like someone can steal them."

"Yes, but they're easy to deface."

"You two really believe that could happen?"

Sarah frowned. "After that debacle where all the artifacts were stolen from that previous dig, I wouldn't be surprised."

"You sound almost like you think someone would do this on purpose."

"I want to believe it was a one-off, Harry," said Sarah. "But where it was the one dig that had the exact hard evidence I needed for my theories, I can't help but be a little wary."

"It's distracting you from your writing."

Sarah sighed. "I know. I'm going to try to catch up today."

Harold nodded. While he still had a job, her book had been a means for her to further her career. Now it represented food on the table if Harold couldn't find work soon. He tried not to point it out too many times, as it invariably led to an argument over decisions that had long since been made, like her shift in career or taking in Bob.

Sarah glanced past her husband. "Any luck?"

"No," Harold said, turning back towards the heater. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with it, I ... uh, Sarah, what are you doing?"

Sarah had stepped up behind him and turned down his collar. "That blue hair is spreading."

Harold tugged his collar back up. "Worry about your own hair." He turned around, reaching a hand behind Sarah's head and letting her fine fair spill through his fingers. "I saw that red streak you're sporting."

"Aren't you the least bit perturbed by this?" Sarah asked.

"You mean more so than the prospect of spending twelve hundred dollars on a new heater because I'm not competent enough to fix this one?"

Sarah lowered her head, pressing her hands to her husband's chest. "Don't do this to yourself, please," she said in a soft voice.

Harold sighed. "Pay no attention to me."

Sarah looked up. "If your father doesn't want to talk to you, that's his problem, not yours."

"Yeah, but what if he's right?"

Sarah took a step back and gave him a wary look. "About what?"

"About a lot of things."

"All he's doing is trying to guilt you into coming back to help him with the farm, and he doesn't even need you for that, he has your sister. She was more than happy to step in."

Harold scratched his head. "Yeah, but you know how he feels. Traditional roles and all that."

Sarah pressed her finger into his chest. "Again, his problem, not yours. I know you spent a lot of time on that farm as a kid, but you don't owe him."

"Yeah, but what was my reason for leaving?" Harold said. "Because I didn't see a future in farming."

"And that's a perfectly valid reason."

"Not in his eyes."

Sarah tilted her head. "What's gotten into you? I know this thing with your father is really bothering you, but you can't just throw away a life you've made for yourself."

Harold said nothing.

"Harry, do me a favor," said Sarah. "Call your sister."

"The last thing she needs is a sob story from me."

"You mean the world to her." Sarah gave him a lopsided grin. "I could wish for a sister as great as yours."

Harold smiled faintly. "Yeah, all right, I will."

Tina smiled broadly as her friend approached. "Well, look at you. You're braver than I am."

Laura rolled her eyes as she approached, her curls bouncing with her walk. "Says the girl with half-pink hair."

"Yeah, but that's my thing," said Tina as she transferred books from her locker to her satchel. "Not yours. What made you ..." Her voice suddenly strained and broke up into a coughing fit. "... made you go au naturale?" She coughed again and frowned. "Fuck, I hate this post-flu crap. It takes forever to go away."

Laura wanted to give the real answer, that she felt it was the mature thing to do. She had to show she could take a few snickers and odd looks. Her little sister had not helped by spreading the nickname "carrot top" among the students, as if Jenny were purposely testing her. Sometimes Laura believed that was true. Sometimes she felt Jenny had every right to do so even if she wasn't.

"I guess I figured I'd try out the new look?" Laura said, forcing a small smile.

Tina smirked. "Uh-huh. Right. I know you too well, Laura. You're about as straight-laced as they come."

Laura sighed. "Fine, I have other reasons, but I don't want to go into them right now."

Tina shrugged. "Fair enough." She closed her locker. "Hey, if it helps any, you don't seem to be the only one with weird hair issues."

Laura's eyes widened. "I'm not?"

"You know Josie? She's got this really wild streak of purple through her hair. She said she has no idea how it happened, but she sorta likes it." Tina grinned. "Her Mom? Not so much. I think she's gonna drag Josie to the doctor."

"Are you serious?" Laura said in a hushed voice. "Is there anyone else?"

"Not that I know of, but I haven't been looking."

"Maybe you should," Laura said. "Maybe we both should. This can't be normal."

Tina leaned against her locker. "This really has you riled up, doesn't it?" she asked in a more serious tone.

"The same thing is happening to my mother," Laura said. "And I think I saw something odd about Dad's hair, too."

"Wow. You think you all got into the same thing, whatever it is?"

"I don't know. Jenny doesn't have it. Neither does Bob. But now people at school have it, that has to mean this is spreading somehow."

Tina snorted. "Have to admit, I kinda wish it would happen to me."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Come on, be serious!"

"Hey, good hair dye is expensive. If I could have magically colored hair, I'd do it in an instant. But, yeah, okay, I see where you're coming from. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

"Thanks," said Laura. "We better get on to class."

"Seeya later."

Laura turned and headed away. Like her mother, she had no idea what this would accomplish. She simply wanted to feel like she was doing something.

Jenny dashed through the main hallway of the school at the end of the school day, her eyes falling on her still behatted friend as he headed to the exit. "James!" she shouted nearly at the top of her lungs to the annoyed glances of her peers, but he kept on walking.

Jenny plunged through the crowd again, elbowing people out of her way. She finally cleared them and jogged after her wayward friend. "James, wait up!"

James kept walking, but he slowed enough for Jenny to catch up. "James, I have a fantastic idea for expanding the scene we talked about yesterday. I got the idea this morning from my mother. Well, indirectly from her. Anyway, what if the magic of the Fae Queen starts to spread through the kingdom and--"

James finally halted and spun around to face her. "Jenny, we ... I have to head straight home, I'm sorry."

Jenny just stared, even as he resumed walking. She jogged to catch up. "What for?"

"Because I've been told to by my mother, that's why."

Jenny's eyes widened. "You got yourself grounded?"

James stopped to face her again. "I'd be lucky if that's what I got!"

Jenny recoiled. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

James glanced away for a moment. "I've been told to stay away from you, and the only way I can do that--"

"Stay away from me?!"

"--is to head straight home. If I spend any time at all out here, you're just going to tag along and--"

Jenny frowned. "I thought you wanted me to tag along."

"Dammit, I do!" James cried. "I want to hang out with you, Jenny. I like you. A lot."

Jenny hesitated, then slowly smiled. "A lot, huh?"

"Yes, and now thanks to your lunacy that doesn't matter anymore."

"My, what?" Jenny sighed. "Okay, fine, maybe yesterday wasn't the brightest thing I've ever done, but nothing happened. We got out okay."

James shook his head.

"What are you not telling me?" Jenny demanded.

"One of the rangers who manage the hiking trails saw us heading away from that property."

"Um, okay, so?"

"He told a cop, and that cop happens to be a close friend of the family," said James.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me. That's one hell of a coincidence."

"You still don't get what living in a small town like this means," said James. "It means that sort of thing happens a lot."

Jenny's eyes widened. "Are you saying we're in trouble with the law now?" she asked in a small voice.

"We were trespassing, so we could be, if the police really wanted to make a big deal out of it," said James. "They're more concerned about our run-in with old man Turner. Even the cops know he's a flake."

"Then we just won't go over there anymore."

"You're still not getting it," said James in a tired voice. "It doesn't matter because my Mom is convinced you did something to trick me into going over there."

"I did no such thing!" Jenny declared.

"Yes, I know that, and you know that, but I gave up trying to convince my mother."

Jenny frowned and turned away, her hair almost glowing in the bright sunlight. "Well, that's just great. Just fucking great."

James stared and murmured, "What the hell?"

Jenny spun back around. "James, we have to figure out how to get around this somehow. I've never had someone as good as you to bounce ideas off of, and, well, I have to admit, I--"

"Jenny, wait," said James. "Can you turn around again?"

"Huh?"

"Just humor me, please."

Jenny sighed dramatically and turned her back to him. "Just don't get fresh, okay? I, um, like you, too, but I'm not ready for that stuff."

If it had been anyone else, James would have been insulted that she thought he would take advantage of her. Instead, he smirked faintly; Jenny was just being, well, Jenny. He did admit he enjoyed the excuse to stare at her beautiful hair. He set aside his feelings for the moment as he sought to find what he had seen before in blond hair so light it was almost white in the sun. "Jenny, you've got several strands of pink in your hair."

Jenny spun back around. "I what? Where??"

"Um, may I be allowed to show you?" James said in a tentative voice.

"Yes, fine, go ahead."

James stepped around her and delicately grasped the hairs by the tips before bringing them around to Jenny's eyes.

Jenny stared she took the strands in her fingers. Nestled in the otherwise blond hair were several strands of bright bubble-gum pink.

"Pink," Jenny muttered. "Why did it have to be pink? I hate pink. Why couldn't it be blue, like my Dad's hair? That's my favorite color."

"You're taking this a lot better than I did."

Jenny tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Well, if my hair is going to go all anime on me, it might as well be a color I actually like. Just so long as it doesn't curl into those stupid drills. And, frankly--"

She swiftly reached up and snatched James' hat from his head, letting locks of very green hair spill out.

"Hey!" James cried.

"--I think hiding it is silly," Jenny continued. "It's just a change in color. It's not like you're the only one it's happening to."

James snatched the hat back from her and jammed it on his head. "Well, pardon me if I'm not as cavalier about it as you."

"Let me guess: your mother thinks I'm somehow the cause of it."

"I didn't want to say anything, but, yeah. Don't try to figure out how that would even be possible. My Mom is not logical sometimes." James glanced down the street. "Look, I better get going. I'm already going to have to come up with an excuse as to why I'm late. I'm really sorry about this, Jenny. I hope we can get this cleared up soon so we can go back to hanging out together."

Jenny smiled. "So do I. Um, seeya around."

"Yeah, seeya."

Heather glanced over her shoulder as the purple-haired Josie was shepherded out of the office by her irate mother, still muttering under her breath. Heather frowned when she heard the word "quack."

Her gaze tracked over the remaining patients in the waiting area. Two appeared more or less relaxed, one reading a magazine and the other playing a game on his phone. The third patient sat apart, a hat covering his head. Heather caught a bit of magenta peeking out from the edge.

She headed into the back and stepped into Kevin's office. She found him leaned back in his chair, looking at a framed picture in his hands. "Honestly, I don't normally complain about the kinds of ailments we see, but we now have your fifth case of 'lurid hair syndrome' out in the waiting room."

Kevin set the picture back on the shelf over his desk. It depicted himself and a sandy-haired woman, both smiling for the camera before his old practice in Denver. "Josie's mother was not very happy with me when I gave her a diagnosis of chronic purple hair for her daughter."

Heather stepped further inside and closed the door. "I'm going to be brutally honest with you, Kevin. I think you're wasting your time."

"Come again?"

"I know you said it doesn't look like dye, but what else could it be?"

Kevin gave her a skeptical look. "And you think all these people decided to dye their hair at once? And such lurid colors to boot? And so perfectly down to the roots?"

"Yes," said Heather. "I think we've been suckered into some sort of viral advertising campaign."

"Oh, now, don't you think that's a little far-fetched?" said Kevin. "Granted, I want a down-to-earth explanation, but I want a plausible one."

"This stuff happens all the time," said Heather. "So much so anymore that it's starting to become passe. Someone invented the perfect hair dye, and they arranged for a bunch of people to use it and claim their hair magically changed color."

"But Laura Tanner of all people?" said Kevin. "I can't imagine her going for something like this. Not to mention she's underage, so I assume her parents would have to approve. I have a devil of a time seeing Sarah or Harold agree to this."

Heather smirked. "And you've never seen companies resort to unscrupulous tactics before? You need to get out more."

Kevin sighed and glanced back at the picture, but that just reminded him how much he missed Anna. He wondered idly what her keen insight would have had to say about this. He lifted his gaze to Heather. "If there is a company doing something that's jeopardizing the safety of my patients, I have a responsibility to find out. I'm still waiting on those test results from the hair sample I took from Laura. Let's see what that says before we jump to conclusions. I want to be as thorough as possible."

"I know why you're pursuing this," said Heather in a soft voice.

"Oh?"

Heather tapped a finger on the picture.

"Oh." Kevin's gaze drifted back towards it. "This is hardly the same thing."

"She's why you ran yourself to near exhaustion during the flu outbreak, too."

Kevin rubbed his eyes. "Heather ..."

"No, hear me out. Maybe you don't see it, but I think you push yourself so hard because you don't want a repeat of what happened with Anna."

Kevin's eyes glistened slightly as he stared at the picture. Five months after that picture had been taken, just before their twentieth wedding anniversary, Anna was gone, taken by a swiftly growing cancer that Kevin believed had been missed because he had not paid close enough attention.

Because he had not been thorough enough.

"It wasn't even your fault," said Heather.

"I know," said Kevin in a low voice. "I made my peace with that a long time ago. You're probably right, this is likely one big joke that's waiting for the punchline to be delivered."

Heather smiled softly, even if she didn't think that he truly believed that.

Kevin stood. "All I ask in the meantime is that we treat this seriously and professionally."

"Always," Heather replied.

Harold held the phone to his ear, counting rings, hoping he'd have an excuse to try again later. Yet after the fourth ring, a familiar bright voice said, "Hey, little bro! It's been forever since I heard from you!"

Harold slowly smiled. No matter how upset he was, his older sister could be counted on to cheer him up, if only with a simple greeting. "Heya, Mary, how's the life of a country hick treating you?"

Mary laughed. "Eh, it's got its ups and downs, but I do all right."

"Is the farm doing okay?"

"Okay as can be expected. Competition is fierce these days."

Harold's hand tightened around the phone. "How's the old man?"

"I had a feeling you were calling about that," said Mary. "He's as ornery as ever. He doesn't like the fact that he can't do it all himself."

Harold frowned. "He's not supposed to do everything himself. That's why you're there."

"Yeah, but try telling him that. You know he's as stubborn as a mule."

"That's not the reason he's refusing help."

"Yeah, I know. But, hey, it is what it is, and he's just gonna have to accept it. I'm here, you're not."

Harold swallowed. "Mary, be honest with me, okay? Do you regret doing this?"

"My only regret is not being welcomed with open arms," said Mary. "Other than that, you know I always loved the outdoors."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "I still do myself. I'd go out with Sarah on digs more often if it wasn't for having to watch the kids and look for a job. Starting to get a bit of cabin fever. I tried to interest Bob in taking walks with me, but no dice."

"And how's your family doing?"

He hesitated. "A handful, as always."

"Something up?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

Harold smirked. "Still practicing your mind-reading, I see."

Mary snorted. "No, I just know you all too well. Something wrong?"

"Eh, it's going to sound pretty stupid, but ..." He proceeded to explain the family's hair problems.

Mary paused. "Huh."

Harold turned his head when the doorbell rang. He ignored it. "What?"

"Well, the other day when I went into town for groceries, I saw this guy with streaks of cyan in his hair. Overheard him talking to the cashier when she commented on it. Said he didn't know how it happened, he just woke up with it."

"That's a weird coincidence," said Harold.

"It gets better. I chatted with him a bit myself. He had to cut short a trip to your neck of the woods after catching the flu there about two weeks ago."

"Uh, sis? Did you get the flu?"

"No, but I think I'm gonna. Been feeling kinda tired and achy today and I've been getting chills. If you had called a day or two later, I'd probably sound like death warmed over."

Harold's mind raced. He mentally calculated when his family came down with the flu. Laura had been first, then Sarah and himself, then Jenny, then Bob. And now Laura had orange hair, Sarah's hair was turning red, his own blue ...

No, that was stupid. Hair changing color was not a post-flu effect.

Mary coughed before saying, "Little bro? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," said Harold. "Wrapping my mind around the axle over something dumb. Look, the real reason I called is to find out if you know anything about Dad returning my letter."

"Yeah, I do," said Mary in an unusually solemn voice. "I pleaded with him not to do it. I was so angry with him that I was tempted to open the letter and read it out loud to him."

"Does he hate me?"

"No, I don't think so," said Mary. "I mean, he talks a good game, but I think he still loves you. He just acts like a total dumbass sometimes."

Harold wanted to believe her. The last thing he wanted was his father hating him, because it would make it far too easy to hate him in return. "Thanks, sis."

"Hey, I got an idea," said Mary. "After I get over this impending flu, we should get together, just you and me, okay?"

Harold smiled. "Yeah, let's do that. Take care of yourself."

"You, too. Love you, little bro."

"Love you, big sis."

Sarah stopped her furious typing in wake of the chime from her phone only after concluding the paragraph she had been working on. She snatched up the phone and tensed when she saw it was from Greg. She relaxed only after reading the message: got those pics u wanted.

Sarah quickly responded: thx. what took you so long?

Stupid accident on state highway before turnoff. Overturned trailer. Took forever to clean up.

Sarah frowned. Plz secure those pics.

Will do.

Sarah set aside the phone and called up her browser. After a few searches, she found a news report about the accident. A trailer carrying bleach and other caustic cleaning fluids had indeed overturned and required a hazmat team to clean up. It was located right at the point where the access road down to the dig turned off the highway.

"That's a hell of a coincidence," Sarah muttered.

Yet if the site had been disturbed, wouldn't Greg had mentioned that? She shook her head when she realized she was starting to think way too much like old man Turner supposedly did. Maybe Harold was right that she was letting herself get too spooked.

Sarah brought her document forward and was about to continue working on it when the doorbell rang. She turned around and was about to call out to Harold when she heard him in the next room talking to his sister.

She got up and headed to the door. She glanced out the peephole, did a double-take, and yanked open the door.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," said the police officer standing on the front porch.

"Um, afternoon," said Sarah. "Is something the matter?"

"I'd like to talk to you for a few moments about an incident the other day concerning your daughter Jennifer ..."

Jenny hummed a tune to herself as she skipped along the walk like a girl half her age, all the while imagining herself as one of the colorful characters she had conjured for her latest story idea. She tried not to let herself worry over what to do with her budding relationship with James. She tended to think that things had a way of working themselves out given enough time.

Yet when she turned the corner and her house came into view, she realized she had more to worry about than she had realized.

A police officer emerged from her house, turning to tip his hat at her parents before heading back to his patrol car. Jenny took a deep breath. "Okay, stay calm," she whispered. "Maybe it has nothing to do with me."

She headed to her house and quietly let herself in. She heard her parents arguing in Sarah's office as she crept towards the stairs.

"Jenny?" Sarah suddenly called out.

"Um, yeah!" Jenny replied as she bolted up the stairs. "Got tons of homework! Better get straight to it! Bound to keep me busy all--"

Sarah erupted from her office. "Jennifer Penelope Tanner, get down here this instant!"

Jenny cringed before she reversed course. A livid Sarah met her at the bottom step, a sad-faced Harold bringing up the rear. "Mom, look, if this is about what happened yesterday--"

"I don't want to hear it," Sarah declared. "Absolutely nothing you can say can excuse this. Never mind the fact that you trespassed on private property, you could've gotten yourself and your friend killed! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Mom, I--"

"I'll answer that for you. You simply weren't thinking!"

Jenny frowned and glanced at her father, who often jumped in at times like this to calm her mother down. Instead, he gave her an uncertain look and folded his arms. Jenny looked back to her mother. "I resent that."

The front door opened, and Laura walked in.

Sarah stared. "You what?"

"I resent being told I wasn't thinking," Jenny snapped. "I was thinking. I thought it would be okay. Maybe I was wrong."

Laura clutched the strap of her satchel more tightly.

Sarah gaped. "Maybe you were wrong?? How about completely flat-out insanely wrong!"

"Stop making it sound like I had a death wish or something," Jenny said. "I honestly didn't think he would ever hurt us. He could've shot us, but he didn't."

"That's not the damn point," Sarah said. "You shouldn't have been there in the first place!"

Laura cleared her throat. "I'll, uh, just go to my room now."

"Laura, wait," said Sarah. "Stay here, I'll want to talk to you after this."

Harold raised an eyebrow.

"Um, okay," said Laura warily.

"I won't do this again," said Jenny in a more contrite voice.

"I wish I could believe you," said Sarah. "Go to your room."

Jenny blinked. "Huh?"

"Do as I say."

"Well, okay ... but ... you're not going to ground me or something?"

"No."

"No?" Harold said. "But I thought that's what--"

Sarah held up a hand to silence him. "Jenny, go. You'll learn soon enough what I have in mind."

Jenny gave her a wary look, then glanced at Laura before heading upstairs.

Harold frowned and stepped forward. "Sarah, what's this about?"

"You'll find out right now." Sarah turned to Laura. "Laura, I have a favor to ask of you."

Laura tensed and nodded.

"I want you to supervise your sister."

Laura flinched, her eyes wide. "You what?"

"Whenever she's outside and not in school, I want you to be with her at all times. If she wants to do something before coming home, she's allowed to, but you accompany her and don't let her do anything that's obviously unsafe."

Memories that Laura wished would remain buried swirled in her mind. "I-I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Mom."

Sarah placed her hands on Laura's shoulders. "Hopefully this won't be for long, just until Jenny learns from this. Maybe when she sees how responsible you are, she'll understand."

Laura's heart raced. "Are you sure you want to trust me with this?"

Sarah smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Just ... the last time ... um ..."

"What?"

Laura shook her head. "Nothing, never mind. I'll do it."

"Thank you."

Laura simply hoped that neither of them would regret it when it was over.

Chapter 6 - Progress

Starlight set down her coffee as slow hoofsteps approached the dining room. She raised an eyebrow as Twilight entered the room, the alicorn's fur and feathers in disarray. "No offense, Twilight, but you look awful."

"I had a nightmare and had trouble falling back to sleep after that," said Twilight as she took a seat at the table.

"Didn't Princess Luna help you with it?"

"She did. That's why I had trouble afterward. She gave me too many things to think about."

Spike emerged from the kitchen, an apron around his waist. "Your usual tea, Twilight?"

Twilight shook her head. "No, I'll have some coffee, please. Black."

"Wow, you really must've had a rough night," said Spike. "One black coffee coming up."

"What happened?" Starlight asked as Spike headed back into the kitchen.

Twilight explained her dream. Starlight did her best not to giggle when she learned it was over that A-minus. "But it made me realize that we could indeed have seen different writing in that document in the Archives because it happened before," Twilight concluded.

"That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it?" said Starlight. "I know you're upset over that grade, but don't you think this--"

Twilight banged a fore-hoof on the table. "I know what I read! I know I got every reference right. The only way this could've happened is if the text changed between when I read it and my teacher read it. It wasn't even a huge change. It was a very minor fact that wasn't even a deciding factor on the historical event that was the subject of the paper."

"Well, okay, but you said Princess Luna told you something that upset you?"

Twilight told her about the private journal.

Starlight smiled. "There you go, problem solved! Once we have that, we--"

"Didn't you hear a word I said?" Twilight cried. "I can't pry into Celestia's private life without a good reason."

"And protecting Canterlot from something potentially dangerous isn't enough?"

"It's not harming anything or anypony at the moment, and I have Rainbow Dash on her way to the Griffon Kingdom."

Spike emerged from the kitchen with a tray. Twilight smiled and plucked the steaming mug of coffee from it with her magic. "Thank you, Spike."

Starlight rested her head on a fore-hoof and smirked. "Come on, Twilight, admit it. You're burning with curiosity about Celestia's private life."

"I am not, and neither should you."

Starlight spread her fore-hooves. "All I want to know is if the rumors about Princess Celestia being a cake-a-holic are true."

Twilight face-hoofed. "You're impossible."

"Hey, I wish I could pack away the treats like she does and not have it go right to my flanks. I guess immortality has its fringe-benefits."

The castle suddenly shook from the force of a dragonling belch in the kitchen, which lighted the room bright green for a moment. Spike coughed a few times before emerging holding a thick book with a golden cover, the image of Celestia's cutie mark embossed upon it. "This arrived for you, Twilight," Spike said in a raspy voice, still coughing up green-tinged smoke.

"Oo, shiny!" Starlight said, snatching it from Spike in her magic.

"Wait, Starlight, stop!" said Twilight.

Starlight rolled her eyes as she levitated the book over the table. "Will you relax? See, I'm not opening the book. I'm ... um ..." She trailed off and frowned.

Twilight took it in her own magic and tugged it from Starlight's grip. "This needs to be handled with the utmost respect and care."

"Well, yes, but--"

"No buts." Twilight very gently set the book down in the center of the table. "For now, this remains our last resort. I want to hear what Rainbow Dash was able to find out."

Starlight stared at the book and lighted her horn. "You may want to reconsider that."

"What are you doing?" Twilight demanded. "Do I need to shield this book from you? Stop acting like a little filly and--"

"There's mind-magic in this book."

Twilight's mouth fell open. "Wh-what?"

Spike hopped into a chair. "Are you serious, Starlight?"

"I'm dead serious," said Starlight. "It's faint, but it's definitely there, likely imbued into the pages."

"But how can you even detect that?" Twilight said.

The glow around Starlight's horn faded. "While it may be a dubious distinction, I don't think there's another unicorn in Equestria with the same knowledge of mind control magic as me. You know that stew of spells I used on the others recently? I'm detecting a similar resonance, just far more subtle."

Spike turned to Twilight. "Could that be what Princess Luna was worried about? She said her sister was acting weird. What if her own journals are doing it?"

"Oh, heavens," Twilight cried. "That could be why she's acting like this. If she's fallen under the sway of some evil spell that--"

"Whoa, wait," said Starlight, waving a hoof. "I didn't necessarily mean it that way."

"But what else could it possibly be?"

Starlight smiled. "Well, now, the only way to find out is to actually read the book."

Her horn glowed, and the front cover started to open. Twilight frowned, and a quick burst of her own magic slammed it shut.

Starlight sighed. "Twilight, really--"

"Unless you can prove to me that this thing is an immediate danger to us--"

"No, it's not," Starlight said reluctantly. "It's not radiating mind-magic. Whatever the effect is, it's more subtle than that."

"Then we can wait."

Starlight leaned her head on a hoof again. "Fine, whatever."

A smirk spread across Rainbow Dash's muzzle as she rocketed upward, her wings a blur as she shot high into the skies above the Griffon Kingdom. She risked a glance behind her, and her eyes widened when she saw the sly smile of Gilda as the griffon seemed to be catching up almost too easily.

Rainbow suddenly executed a snap-turn, the force of which scorched the air in her wake. "Think fast!" she bellowed as she barreled straight for her friend.

"Gaah!" Gilda cried before doing a quick barrel roll to get out of the way.

Rainbow giggled as she left a corkscrew rainbow trail in her wake.

"Oh, you little stinker!" Gilda cried before diving after her friend.

Rainbow grinned. She started a tight curve around the spire of a recently restored castle and glanced behind her. "Er, huh? Where'd she--"

"SURPRISE!"

"WHOA!"

Gilda had zipped around the same spire the other way. Rainbow did a sharp ninety-degree turn and felt the tip of her tail brush Gilda's flank.

Gilda flew on for a few seconds before stopping and hovering. She turned towards Rainbow and laughed. "You always did fall for that trick!"

Rainbow hovered and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you got me there. Wanna call it a draw this time?"

"Fine by me. You're a much better sport about this sort of thing than you used to be."

Rainbow flew at a more sedate pace towards her friend. "Yeah, well, let's just say being in the Wonderbolts has taught me a few things."

Gilda lightly punched Rainbow in the shoulder. "Yeah, congrats and all that."

Rainbow smiled and rubbed her shoulder. Even a light tap by a full-grown griffon was enough to leave a bruise. She looked towards the ground. The place seemed completely transformed. Where rundown streets and ramshackle houses had been before now stood wide avenues and neat, spacious homes built specifically for a proud species of avians. "I'm not the only one who deserves congrats. Wow, you guys have done a lot with the place since Pinkie and I were here last."

Gilda puffed out her chest a bit and smiled. "Thanks. It's a lot of hard work, but that's what griffons used to be about. We're sorta rediscovering our past, you know?"

"Speaking of which, that's kinda why I'm here."

"Aw, and here I thought it was just to visit an old friend. Guess when you become famous, you forget the little people."

Rainbow snorted and bopped her fore-hoof against Gilda's shoulder. "Oh, stop it, you big goof. But, yeah, I should visit more often."

Gilda chuckled and waved a claw. "It's okay. Let's head back down to the ground and we can talk."

"Race ya!" Rainbow cried before speeding off.

"Saw that coming," Gilda said with a smirk as she took off.

After landing at the same time and engaging in a brief debate over who won, Gilda said, "So lay it on me. What's up?"

Rainbow considered pulling out the scroll that Twilight had given her, but she didn't want to put her friend to sleep. "Twilight wanted to know if you knew anything about some sorta incident that happened between griffons and ponies twenty years ago."

Gilda snorted. "Who me? I was only a chick at the time."

"Yeah, but what about your parents? You ever hear stories from them?"

"Like what kind?"

"About maybe some sort of war brewing?"

Gilda's face slowly turned thoughtful. "Well, not sure how useful this'll be, but my father started to rant about ponies getting too big for their britches or some nonsense like that."

Rainbow gave her a surprised look. "Really? Why?"

"I think Equestria had an embassy here back then. At least they had some sorta envoy, not that you can find a single griffon who remembers their name. But war?" She laughed. "You gotta be kidding me. We were starting on the skids back then. How could we have made war on Equestria? Celestia would've rolled over us by herself."

"But that's really weird," said Rainbow. "Twilight was sure Princess Celestia was worried about war breaking out. The egghead is almost never wrong about stuff like that."

Gilda shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you. Maybe there coulda been some griffon hotheads at the time. We do have a warrior culture, and despite the big downturn we took, there were always those among us who wouldn't let us forget that."

"You don't have any sort of records or--"

Gilda laughed harder. "You really are a card today, aren't you? You saw the place when you and Pinkie showed up. You think we'd care about something like maintaining records?"

"Yeah, good point," said Rainbow. "I just didn't want to go back empty-hooved to Twilight. She's counting on me to figure this out."

"Yeah, about that," said Gilda. "What's the deal? Something must be up."

"It is, but I'm not sure how much I can tell you."

Gilda smirked. "Now you really got me interested. Okay, fair enough. But if you do have something, let me know. I want to help if I can. Least I can do to repay you guys for your help."

"You got it, Gilda."

Rainbow was eager enough to tell Twilight what she had learned that she took a more direct route home aided by a well-placed sonic rainboom. Thus she got into Ponyville by late afternoon.

Twilight paced slowly as she listened. "So that's all you were able to find out?"

"Yeah, I wish I had more for you," said Rainbow.

"And you're sure of the accuracy of this information?"

"Well, as accurate as Gilda's memory is, and she's pretty sharp."

Twilight stopped and sighed. "Well, thank you, it was worth a shot."

"We did learn one thing," said Starlight as she stepped forward. "We learned that this whole griffon war may be a red herring."

"I don't think so," said Twilight. "Maybe it didn't happen as Cadance remembers it, but something did happen, and I feel it's still connected to all this."

"In either case, you got what you wanted," said Starlight. "Now can we read the book?"

Rainbow tilted her head. "What book?"

Twilight waved a hoof. "It doesn't matter, it--"

Starlight grinned. "Princess Celestia's secret diary."

Rainbow gasped. "No way!"

Twilight whirled around. "Starlight!"

"That is so cool!" said Rainbow.

Twilight face-hoofed. "No, it isn't."

"Hey, can you let me know if you find out if she's as much of a cake-a-holic as ponies say she is?"

"She's not a cake-a-holic!" Twilight yelled. "She eats no more or less cake than the next pony! I should know, I was her student! Satisfied?!"

"Um, okay," said Rainbow. "Jeez, Twi, calm down."

Starlight smirked. "Yeah, have a piece of cake, Twilight."

Rainbow giggled.

Twilight frowned and marched up to Starlight. "Now listen to me. We are going to read that book, but we are going to do this in an orderly -- and most of all, respectful -- manner. No jokes, no fooling around. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal," said Starlight.

"All right. I moved the book to the library. Let's go."

They headed off, and Rainbow grinned and hovered behind them, only to have the library doors slammed in her face. "Hey!" she called out to no avail.

Inside, Twilight turned her head towards the door long enough to cast a silence shield on it. "I've swept the room with a powerful detection spell earlier."

Starlight stepped up to the table, her eyes on the book. "To detect what?"

"Any sort of magic that might serve as surveillance."

"Ah, right, yeah," said Starlight with a roll of her eyes. "While you're at it, check for invisible changeling ninjas and parasprite commandos."

Twilight frowned. "What did I say about no jokes?"

"Don't you think you're being just a weensy bit paranoid?"

"I don't want to take any chances," said Twilight. "There could be very sensitive material in this journal, especially if it does contain the truth about what really happened during that period of time. Now, you said there was mind-magic in it?"

"Yes. I can still detect it."

"Do we need to shield ourselves somehow?" said Twilight. "Is there some sort of enchantment on it that will attempt to control our minds?"

"It's not like that," said Starlight. "While the basis of the magic is similar to my spells, it's not designed for direct control."

Twilight stepped alongside Starlight and took a deep breath as she reached out with her magic and took hold of the front cover. "All right. Here goes ..."

Twilight soon realized that some of her fears about the book were justified. Celestia had not told a dry tale of her day to day actions. She spoke from the heart in much of what she wrote, injecting the prose with her fears, her insecurities, and her doubts. At odd moments, worry over what would happen when Luna returned consumed her.

Twilight finally had to turn away from the book, uttering a shaky sigh as her eyes threatened to well up. She knew logically that Celestia was not some infallible goddess, but it soon became clear that her heart believed otherwise, and it took only the first few entries to utterly shatter the illusion.

Starlight stepped up to her and draped a fore-leg around Twilight's barrel. "I'm sorry."

Twilight shook her head. "I know it's stupid. Celestia never claimed to have all the answers. There isn't even anything terrible happening. Just day to day worries about her ponies."

"Yeah, but she has a lot of them to worry about," said Starlight softly. "And I have to admit, it's the mundaneness that has me a little suspicious."

"What do you mean?"

Starlight turned back towards the book. "Well, like you said, there's nothing really special happening. I know we're only a little ways in, but I would have expected this period to be a little more, I don't know, dramatic."

"What about the mind magic?" said Twilight. "Is that in play here?"

Starlight's horn glowed. "It's here. It's woven into the pages in a rather complicated fashion. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Could it be masking something in the text?" Twilight said. "Like the way that name changed the other day, or the reference in my report?"

Starlight frowned. "But why would it result in seeing something different? I'm not getting the connection yet. We need to read on and perhaps find a pattern."

Twilight sighed. "I was afraid you would say that. All right, let's continue ..."

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

Twilight looked up from her reading. She glanced at the window and saw it was nighttime. "How long have we been at this?"

Starlight nursed a headache with her hoof. "Too long."

"Twilight?" came Spike's voice.

Twilight nudged open the door enough for him to enter. "Sorry, Spike, we lost track of time."

"I was wondering if you wanted any dinner."

"Yes, please. Could you bring it to us?"

Starlight sighed. "Can't we go to the dining hall? I really could use a break."

"I know, but I think I found something." She turned back to Spike. "Dinner for two, please."

"Coming right up!" said Spike before he dashed away.

"So what did you find?" Starlight asked.

Twilight nudged the door shut. "Something is not adding up about her style of prose."

"Come again?"

"Everypony who's a writer develops a distinct style," said Twilight. "Everything from word choice, to sentence structure, to length of time spent on a given subject, and it's that last one that is wildly fluctuating."

Starlight stepped up to the book. "Show me."

Twilight flipped through the book. "Here. She spent two pages on a crisis that made her concerned Discord was about to slip free of his prison. But right before this--" She flipped the pages. "--she spent six pages on a very mundane, and frankly very boring and repetitive discussion of court politics."

Starlight examined the pages. Her horn glowed. She flipped the pages back and forth between the two entries. "In this longer section, the mind magic is stronger."

Twilight's pupils shrank slightly. "Really? What does it mean?"

Starlight looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure yet, other than I'm becoming increasingly convinced we can't trust what we're reading."

Twilight gasped. "Are you saying the text has been altered?"

"Not quite." Starlight sighed. "I know, this is frustrating for you, but I'm not sure how to describe what I'm seeing."

"If there is a spell here, can't you break it?"

Starlight turned to her teacher. "How much experience do you have with mind control spells, Twilight?"

Twilight blushed slightly. "Other than the, uh, incident with the want-it-need-it spell? Not much. I got soured on the subject after that. Sombra's dark magic was more corruption than control."

"Mind control spells of this complexity can't be broken unless I can see the entire structure," said Starlight. "If I just lash out at the spell, I could accidentally incinerate the book."

"So what do we do?"

Starlight smiled. "We have to be smarter than the spell. We have to trick it into revealing itself, and I have an idea how." Starlight turned away. "Twilight, go read the next four entries. Memorize their length and where they start and end. Let me know when you're done."

While Twilight read, Spike arrived with dinner. Starlight took the tray and set it on a nearby table. She started to munch on some celery as she waited.

Twilight finally lifted her head and turned around. "There, done."

Starlight stepped up to the book. "What page did you end at?"

"End at?" said Twilight. "One forty seven."

Starlight finished her celery and flipped the book to that page. "Go eat something while I read those same entries."

Twilight nodded and headed away.

Starlight started reading the entries in reverse, all the while her magical senses tracing the intricate weave of the mind magic. To say she was impressed with this level of mastery was an understatement. Back in her "evil" days, she would have killed for this level of skill. She lifted her head. "All right, done. Here's what I just read."

Twilight started munching on some broccoli.

Starlight paused to switch the order back to first-to-last in her head. "Three pages on a trade treaty with the minotaurs. Two pages on receiving a Zebrican representative--"

Twilight blinked and stopped munching.

"--five pages on reviewing new curricula at the School for Advanced Unicorn Magic. Four pages on reviewing new economics legislation."

"That's not right!" Twilight said.

Starlight started to smile. "Oh?"

"You got two reversed. It was five pages on the Zebrican and two pages on the curricula."

Starlight flipped to the overlapping region. Words crawled about on the pages like confused ants, and the threads of the spell stood out in sharp relief. Her lips curled into a sly smile as her horn blazed. "Gotcha."

Twilight nearly choked on her food. "Wait! What are you--!"

Starlight let loose with her spell, and the pages of the book glowed blinding white. In a panic, Twilight galloped over to her, but by then the spell was done, and the glow had subsided. Twilight's mouth fell open, and her pupils shrank to near pinpricks as her horrified eyes fell on utterly blank pages. "Wh-what did you do to the book?!"

"Revealed the lie," Starlight said. She flipped the book first forward and then back. Now there were two pages apiece on the Zebrican and the curricula, and in between were three blank pages.

Twilight yanked the book into her grip and quickly re-read the Zebrican section. "This is not what I read!" Twilight cried. "I mean, yes, the gist of it is there, but the version I read had much more detail, but ... most it was ..." She trailed off.

"Rather pointless and unnecessary?" said Starlight. "Minor facts that were not really important to the subject at hoof? Just like the reference that got you that A-minus?"

Twilight set the book down. "Explain to me what just happened, please."

"Simple," said Starlight. "You know how the mind can sort of fill in the blanks? Like the old trick of removing all the vowels of a sentence but you can still read it?"

"Yes, I'm familiar with that."

"This is the same principle. Somepony excised information from this journal, then used a mind magic spell to fool our brains into filling in the blanks. It takes the form of causing your head to extend the previous entry. Since it relies on your own mind, everypony reads something slightly different, but because the additional information is so trivial, nopony really notices or cares about the discrepancy." She grinned. "Except young egghead unicorns like you. I have to admit, I'll really impressed with this."

Twilight flipped through the book. More blank pages appeared. "I don't believe this," she murmured.

"I had to confuse the spell," said Starlight with a hint of pride in her voice. "I read the pages backwards, so the spell back-filled instead of forward-filled. When you corrected me, it briefly short-circuited the spell. It was struggling to compensate when I zapped it."

Twilight's eyes widened. "And if this spell was on the residency manifest in the archives--"

"--then I suspect Mr. Night Moonshine is the next-to-last resident of that building," said Starlight.

"And that explains why I didn't detect it!" Twilight said. "I was looking for alteration magic, not mind magic!"

"But I didn't excise all the magic in this book," said Starlight. "When I stripped away the mind magic, I found something else underneath it. It's not something I've ever seen before."

Twilight looked down, and her horn glowed. "I have," she said in a low voice. "It's dark magic."

Starlight recoiled. "What?? H-how would you know?"

"Because I know how to do some dark magic."

Starlight gaped. "You do?!"

Twilight turned towards her. "Celestia taught me some. I needed it to deal with Sombra and the Crystal Empire."

"Whoa, wait!" said Starlight in a quavering voice. "You're telling me that Princess Celestia knows dark magic?"

Twilight sighed. "I know where you're going with this."

"It only proves what I've been saying all along. She's behind this big cover-up. Who knows how many documents this has been done to!"

"But if there is this big cover-up, why even bother to restrict access to the Archives to everypony?"

Starlight shook her head. "No, Twilight, Princess Celestia was not trying to restrict access to everypony, because everypony can't detect or undo the magic. You can. She was trying to keep you away from it because she knew you could find a way around it."

"But I saw this dark magic only after you stripped away the mind magic!"

Starlight fell into a decent imitation of Celestia's voice. "Oh, Starlight! Go back to your friendship lessons, Starlight! Don't worry your little unicorn head about this pesky magic stuff!"

Twilight frowned. "You've made your point."

"My question is, why even use dark magic if all you want to do is erase some text?" said Starlight. "Doesn't that seem like overkill to you?"

Twilight considered. "I have an idea, but ..." She took a deep breath. "Whatever was removed, whatever was covered up, other ponies would have remembered it regardless of whether anypony had written it down. Unless ... you extended the effect to them as well."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You don't mean that not only were written records erased, but ponies' minds as well?!"

"Yes."

"But you could accomplish the same thing without dark magic," Starlight declared. "You just need a more powerful mind magic spell."

"That's the thing about dark magic, Starlight," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "It's terrible, yes, but it's also expedient. Whoever did this -- and yes, I'm still holding out hope it wasn't Celestia -- they specifically harnessed dark magic to corrupt the information rather than excise it. It would be easier, and most of all, it would allow it to be retrieved later."

Starlight frowned. "Likely after everypony who could've remembered is conveniently dead from old age. Like I said, immortality has its perks."

Twilight turned away. "Let's have some dinner. I'm really famished now."

"So am I," said Starlight as she followed. "But then what?"

"Then I'm going to make an attempt to strip the dark magic from the book in hopes that it will reveal the missing information."

Starlight glanced towards the moon glowing in one of the widows. "Twilight, it's late, maybe you should hold off until tomorrow."

"I don't expect complete success," said Twilight as she stepped up to the book. "It could take days to properly reverse the spell, but if I can loosen it enough, I can get a clue as to what's been hidden from us."

"I have to admit, this is a bit chilling," said Starlight as she followed. "Not just that dark magic has been used to erase history, but that you're going to use the very same thing against it."

"I don't like it either," said Twilight in a solemn voice. "Dark magic ... calls to you. It tempts you. It wants to consume you. That's how Sombra became both so powerful and so utterly evil."

Starlight shivered. She didn't want to think about what would have happened had she gained access to it before she had reformed.

Twilight looked down at the book and lifted a hoof towards Starlight. "A little room, please, and be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Starlight stepped back. Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Starlight swallowed as her fur seemed to stand on end, as if the room had become electrified. She shivered as an icy wind blew around her and ruffled Twilight's mane. The wind rose to a howl, and Twilight's eyes snapped open.

Starlight stumbled back a step. Twilight's eyes glowed bright green.

A black ichor bubbled from Twilight's horn, and a beam of inky darkness blasted from it and onto the book, enveloping it in the same slimy substance that coated Twilight's horn. Starlight's heart hammered. She didn't know whether to be impressed or terrified.

Then the lights started to dim. She chose terrified.

"Hello, Twilight, it's so good to see you again."

Despite steeling herself for it, the dulcet tones still sent a shiver through her. The words came from everywhere and nowhere, trying to worm their way into her subconscious. This time the "voice" had been that of her sweet mother, and just as warm and inviting as the real thing.

Twilight floated in a void, and she fought the urge to extend her wings. No flight here, only existence and power.

"Yes, you want that power, don't you, Twilight? Please, take it."

Twilight extended her magical touch into the pool of dark magic, manifesting as a vast lake of ichor. She shivered as it made contact with her psyche, yet it was anything but cold. It filled her with a comfortable warmth, wrapped around her like a soft blanket.

"That's it, Twilight. Never feel cold again. Never feel powerless again."

Twilight took a deep breath. Yes, she knew she would never feel cold again. That was the problem. She would never again understand -- or care -- how her actions could be seen as cold to others. The concept would become completely foreign to her. Twilight thus took only what she needed.

"Aw, come on, Twily!" came her brother's voice. "You can take more than that! You can handle it!"

Twilight turned her back on the voice, at least in a metaphysical sense. Up, down, left, right had no meaning here. She willed a hole to open in the dark magic realm, and it obeyed. The book appeared before her, its dark magic spell like a writhing serpent coiled amongst the pages of the book. Twilight concentrated, then sent her magic into the book.

The serpent shuddered and fought, and Twilight trembled with the effort. She had not taken anywhere near the amount of magic she needed to accomplish this task.

"Twilight, you don't give yourself enough credit," came the concerned voice of Cadance. "You can do this. You can take all the power you want."

"For that's what you want, isn't it, my former student?" said Celestia's voice. "To fix everything in one fell magical swoop."

Twilight paused to steady herself. She did need more power, but it would be on her terms. She opened herself as a conduit rather than a capacitor, sending the power out of her as fast as it came in.

To her relief, the voices fell to mutterings, allowing her to better focus on the task at hoof. She sent more power into the book, against the serpent, and still it fought. She opened her magical senses and gasped when she saw the entirety of this metaphorical creature. She saw its coils extending into books, scrolls, notes, MINDS ...

Twilight gasped. The true scope of this was monstrous.

"And yet you could do it, Twilight," said the voice of Luna. "You could break it here and now."

That would mean taking in a vast amount of dark magic and mixing it with her own, which she refused to do. But there was something that she could do.

The dark magic spell was powerful, but not perfect. It was so vast that it had weaknesses that could be exploited. Even this simple rattling of the serpent's cage was enough for her to see glimpses of the missing history, yet all she was getting were distantly related pieces she could not put together into a cohesive whole.

She readied an indexing spell.

She admitted to feeling a certain sense of irony that a spell she had perfected to better organize her library would be used in such a context. Dark magic frothed and boiled as she waited for the right moment. When she spotted an opening, she let loose the spell. The effect was almost instantaneous, and a name struck her with such force that she went tumbling head over hooves through the void ...

"Twilight!" Starlight cried when the alicorn slumped to the floor.

The darkness, the cold, and the ichor had evaporated the instant Twilight broke contact with the book. Starlight galloped around the side of the table, but Twilight was already stirring. "I-I'm all right," she said in a weak voice.

"You don't look all right."

Twilight slowly pushed herself to her hooves. "That's the most dark magic I ever channeled in one go."

"Um, just promise me you're not going to go all Nightmare Twilight on me or something," Starlight said warily.

Twilight chuckled weakly. "I'm not, don't worry."

Starlight looked at the book. "I'm sorry, but it didn't work, the pages are still blank."

"I know," said Twilight as she stepped up to it. "I was right, this spell is too powerful to unravel in one go, and it is affecting ponies' minds. But I was able to gain a glimpse at a critical part of the missing information."

"What did you see?"

"A name," said Twilight. "It's not one I recognize, but it's the key to the whole thing."

"What name is that?" Starlight asked.

"Sunset Shimmer."

Chapter 7 - Family Crisis

Laura races down the stairs even as they sway under her feet, threatening to pitch her to the bottom in one deadly go. The clock strikes three, but the house is nearly as dark as night, save for when the occasional blinding flash illuminates the windows and rocks the house with another thunderous boom.

"Mom! Dad!" Laura cries as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. "Where are you?!"

The winds rise in an unearthly howl, and the windows rattle. She clamps her hands over her ears when another flash is quickly followed by a deafening crack.

Laura whips her head around. "Don't leave me alone here again! Don't--!"

She screams as a window in the living room shatters. Wind and rain whip through the house. Beyond the broken window, the black clouds are tinged green, and the tempest shrieks as the wind rises further.

"JENNY!" Laura bellows. She turns and races back up the stairs. "Jenny, where are you?!" She ducks in and out of rooms, the normally four-bedroom house having multiplied such that there is no end to where she must search, the corridor twisting and turning until she is sure she is searching the same room over and over again.

Laura shrieks when ice bangs against the windows, each hit as loud as a gunshot. More glass shatters in the distance. She turns and glimpses a flicker of long blond hair as it disappears around a corner.

"Jenny, wait, come back!" Laura yells as she pounds down the hallway. "I have to get you to somewhere safe!"

"I don't want your help!" Jenny shouts from another direction.

Laura skids to a halt and whirls around. Jenny disappears into a bedroom and slams the door shut behind her. Laura dashes to the door and wrestles with the knob before flinging it open.

For a moment, she is too stunned to move or speak. Jenny is lying on her bed, calmly reading a fantasy novel. Rain, hail, and wind roar through a broken window, soaking her and her book, wind tearing at her hair, but Jenny appears oblivious.

"Jenny, what are you doing?!" says Laura. "We need to get to safety!"

Jenny looks to her sister and laughs. "Why? Anywhere is just as good as this."

"But I know what to do! We need to get to the basement!"

"Fuck off, Laura, can't you see I'm busy?"

Laura tries to run to her sister, but the wind rises and pushes her back. Suddenly the half of the room containing Jenny rips free and flies off into the stormy skies. "Some sister you turned out to be!" Jenny yells as she vanishes into the distance ...

Laura's eyes flew open, and her body jerked as she awoke with a start Wednesday morning. She turned over on her back, wincing slightly. After nearly a full minute, she finally realized her alarm was going off. She groaned and banged her hand on it to silence it.

She rolled onto her side and reached behind her to rub at a spot just below the small of her back through her nightgown. It took her another moment to wake up enough to realize her tail bone ached. The only time in her life she ever had pain there was when she slipped on the ice and fell on it when she was little. She had not realized she even had a part of her spine down there until that accident.

Laura swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her eyes. At least the itchiness she had felt there right before she went to bed the night before had subsided. She stepped over to the door to her room and opened it in time to see Jenny come sailing past in her bathrobe.

Laura leaned out into the hallway. "What's got you up so ..." She trailed off as she spotted the wide streak of pink down the back of Jenny's head.

Jenny whirled around. "I wanted to make sure I got a decent shower before you broke the heater again with your silly hair."

Laura stepped up to her. "Look who's talking," Laura said as she reached for Jenny's hair.

Jenny slapped her sister's hand away. "Yeah, fine, it's turning anime pink. At least it's not getting all curly like yours."

Laura sighed. "Is it too much to ask that you not be hostile towards me today?"

"If I'm going to be stuck having you shadow me all freaking day, you get me as I am. Deal with it."

"I didn't ask for this, Jenny," Laura said in a lower voice.

"I didn't hear you tell Mom no."

"How could I?"

"Like this: no. See? I say it all the time. It's real easy. But, no, you have to be miss goodie two-shoes."

Laura frowned. "That's not what this is about."

"Right. Tell me another one. Look, I want to get dressed, it's freezing out here, and--" Jenny suddenly fell silent and stared.

"What are you looking at?"

"Your eyes," said Jenny, bemused. "They're green!"

"No, they're not!" Laura retorted. "I mean, they can't ... I ... shit ..."

Laura spun around and bolted for the bathroom. Her mouth fell open as she stared at her face. Where blue-gray eyes had been before, she now sported bright emerald green.

"Jesus ... what else is going to happen to me?" she murmured.

Sarah glanced across the table at Bob and finished chewing on some egg before saying to Harold, "Do you really think he's ready to go back to school?"

Harold smiled as he gazed at Bob. "I'd say that's up to him."

Bob raised his eyes from the science magazine lying open next to his plate. He had dressed himself in the faded jeans and buttoned shirt that he typically wore to class. "Yeah, I think I'm ready. I feel a lot better. I really don't want to miss any more school."

"Besides, he's far from being contagious anymore," said Harold.

"Not that it matters, considering how many people got it already," Sarah said.

Bob turned towards her. "Don't you think that's a little strange?"

Sarah paused and glanced at Harold, her eyes lingering for a moment on blue hair that now covered the back of his head. She idly played with a bang of her own red hair, only a fringe above her forehead retaining its former hue. Streaks of pale salmon pink had appeared along the sides of her head. She had not yet arranged it into her usual ponytail, thus its increased length from the day before was quite noticeable. "What do you mean?" said Sarah.

"It went through town really fast," said Bob. "Influenza is not normally that virulent."

"This is a small town, honey," said Sarah. "Closer quarters, easier to transmit."

"Then there's your hair," said Bob. "And Dad's. And--"

"What about it?" Sarah said a bit forcefully as she pulled her hand away from her hair.

"Hadn't you noticed that you all got this weird hair thing in the same order you came down with the flu?"

Sarah hesitated. "No, I hadn't."

"I had," Harold murmured.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Oh, now, that's ... that's silly. Flu doesn't change hair color. If that was the case, Doctor Conner would've told us."

Bob caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and stared as Laura stepped into the dining room.

Sarah glanced at Laura and stood up. "How many sausages do you want with your ..." She trailed off. "Laura, what--??"

"It doesn't change eye color, either," Bob murmured.

Harold just stared.

"Um, hi," said Laura as she took a seat. "Yes, I know. Green eyes."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Laura, did ... has anything else ...?"

"I checked myself over just before getting in the shower," said Laura in a subdued voice. "Nothing else changed. My tail bone aches, but it's not bad. And just one sausage, please."

Sarah nodded slowly before heading into the kitchen.

Laura glanced at Bob. "Could you not stare at me?"

"Oh, sorry," Bob said, turning his eyes back to his plate. "If it helps any, it's a nice shade of green."

One corner of Laura's mouth rose. "Thanks. I'm trying not to freak out about it. I mean, it's only eye color, right?"

"Your vision isn't impaired?" Harold asked.

Laura shook her head. "I didn't know it had changed color until Jenny noticed."

Sarah reentered the room carrying a plate with sausage and eggs. "Speaking of whom, where is she?"

"I guess she's up in her room," said Laura as Sarah put the plate before her. "She was up before me, so I don't know what she's doing."

Sarah sighed. "I do." She turned her head towards the stairs. "Jenny, stop Skyping with your Aunt Eileen and get down here right now!"

Bob glanced towards the stairs. When he turned his gaze forward again, it met that of Harold's. He quickly dropped his eyes back to his magazine. Harold gave him a troubled look.

"Gimme another five minutes and then I'll be done!" Jenny shouted back.

Sarah approached the stairs. "You're done right now, young lady!"

A few seconds later, Jenny came flying down the stairs, her blond-and-pink hair trailing behind her like a banner. "I wish you'd cut me some slack."

"Jenny, you've used up about a lifetime's worth of 'slack'," Sarah snapped.

"Then give my aunt a break. She's coming down with the same miserable flu we all had."

Bob turned his head. "She is?"

Jenny scooted around her mother and flounced into a chair. "Yeah. Coughing like crazy, chills, fever, the works. Must've gotten it from you."

"But I shouldn't still have been contagious. Besides that, the symptoms shouldn't have manifested that quickly." He turned back to Sarah. "This is just getting weirder by the minute."

"All this speculating is getting us nowhere," Sarah declared as she headed towards the kitchen. "The test results for Laura's hair should come back soon, and then we'll know exactly what this is. Now, Jenny, how many--"

"Three," said Jenny.

"You get two. Three is too much."

"Then why even ask me?" Jenny muttered.

Laura took a bite of her sausage and frowned. She chewed very slowly.

Jenny glanced at her. "Is the Royal Breakfast not to the Fae Queen's liking?"

"This tastes weird," said Laura.

Jenny glanced down at her sister's plate. Laura had already cut the sausage into several pieces. Jenny deftly plucked a piece in her fingers and popped it into her mouth.

"Hey!" Laura cried.

"Tastes fine to me," said Jenny.

"Jenny, don't do that," Harold said. "Laura, what's up?"

Laura swallowed the first piece and speared a second with her fork. She gave it a sniff. "Something's off about it."

"What's the matter?" Sarah said as she returned with Jenny's plate.

"Her Royal Majesty is displeased with the breakfast fare," said Jenny.

Laura rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Mom, it's probably just me." She hesitated before eating the second piece with just a few cursory chews and turned to her eggs instead. She tentatively sampled a bite. To her relief, they tasted fine.

Sarah started to sit down when her cell phone chimed. She pulled it out and stood up straight. "I better take this, it's from Greg."

Jenny waited until her mother left the room before saying, "Now that the evil sorceress in the employ of the Fae Queen has been distracted--"

Harold groaned, "Jenny, don't call your mother that."

"--the poor peasant girl turns to the honorable knight who knows of her plight and how dreadfully unfair her punishment is and implores him to lift this horrible fae curse from her."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. This was not the first time Jenny had tried to get him to convince Sarah to rescind a punishment. Sarah handled discipline so rarely that it often worked.

Jenny's gaze flicked briefly to Laura. "Perhaps the brave knight would be willing to keep his watchful eye on the peasant girl himself and--"

"No," said Harold.

"But you're condemning the peasant girl to be the prisoner of the horrible Fae Queen and subject to her evil enchantments!"

"Then she'll just have to deal with her poor plight," said Harold. "Besides, evil enchantments build character."

Bob chuckled. Laura giggled softly.

Jenny frowned. "Fine. Let the Fae Queen be the downfall of us all."

"Wait, what?" said Laura. "Look, I've resigned myself to being in your stupid fantasy, but this is kinda pushing it."

"Well, you got this hair thing first, so maybe it's spreading like the flu did--"

Laura snarfed down a few more large bites of eggs and stood. "I'm getting ready for school before I say something I shouldn't."

Jenny watched her go before turning to her father. "Can I have her sausage?"

"What do you mean, they're gone?!" Sarah exploded into the phone in her office.

"In that they are no longer there," Greg deadpanned. "The rock face is blank."

"Petroglyphs do not just get up and walk away."

"Most likely explanation is that someone wiped them."

Sarah fell into her chair. "But wouldn't that leave behind some sort of mark? You said the rock face was blank."

"Yes, but it's uniformly dark, meaning someone etched away the rest of the surface rock. My guess would be some sort of acid."

Sarah banged her fist on the desk. "Dammit! When did they do it?"

"Probably during the accident. It was the only time no one could access the site."

"But you got clear pics of it after the accident."

"Yeah, but when I was setting up the shot, I thought the surrounding rock looked a bit darker than I had remembered it," said Greg. "I assumed it was just poor lighting. Must've been slow-acting acid or something similar."

Sarah lowered her head and ran her hand through her hair. "No one can tell me this is the work of some random vandal. Someone purposely destroyed this evidence."

"I gotta admit, this is creeping me out," said Greg. "I mean, this was organized."

Sarah leaned back in her seat and shielded her eyes with her hand. "Honestly, Greg, I don't know what to do. Who do I turn to for help?"

"We could hire a private investigator."

"I don't have that kind of money."

"I was thinking of hitting up some of your colleagues to chip in," said Greg.

Sarah frowned. "The same ones who laugh at my ideas?"

"Such blatant destruction of archaeological evidence is so loathsome that I'm hoping they'll rally to you." He paused. "There are also government agencies who specialize in dealing with this sort of vandalism."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Right. How many years will that take to trickle through the bureaucracy?"

"I know, I'm grasping at straws," said Greg. "But I want to help. I'm about as upset as you are, Sarah. If we had reported our findings and someone claimed you were wrong or that this was faked, that would be upsetting but an order of magnitude better than this."

"If anything, the fact that someone felt strongly enough that they had to get rid of it means I might be on to something," said Sarah. "So now it's imperative to find more evidence."

"There's something you need to consider," said Greg in a solemn voice. "Whoever did this acted fast. That could mean they're aware of our movements."

Sarah felt a chill down her spine. "You don't mean they're following us? Have us under surveillance?"

"I know that's not a nice thing to consider--"

"I'm not concerned so much about me as my family," Sarah said. "I don't want them to get hurt."

"Then you might have to consider backing off. Drop the pursuit of your theories for now."

Sarah grasped her hair and tugged in a gesture reminiscent of Laura. "I can't. This is becoming my life's work. At least ... at least let me think about this. You still have those pics, right?"

"Yes," said Greg. "Though of course people can claim it's Photoshopped."

"Still, keep them safe for now."

"I'll do the best I can. I better get going. Be safe, Sarah."

"You, too." Sarah hung up and uttered a quavering sigh. She took a deep breath and bolted to her feet. She started out of the room, only to be brought up short by Harold standing in the hall, his arms folded.

"All right, Sarah," he said. "You know I try not to listen in on your conversations, but when I hear things like surveillance and safety of our family--"

"No, it's fine." Sarah glanced past him. "Are the kids gone?"

"Yeah, they're all off to school. Now, what's up?"

Sarah summarized her phone call with Greg.

"Fuck," Harold muttered.

Sarah usually didn't like him using such language, but even she felt it justified. "Harry, things are going from strange to surreal. Maybe if it had been only this stupid hair thing or only the dig or only having to deal with Jenny's issues--"

"Yeah, I know," said Harold.

"And I've got this really bad feeling this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Kevin turned towards his patient one last time, a middle-aged man with azure hair. "And please don't hesitate to call me if any other symptoms show up."

"All right, doctor," he said in a subdued voice.

Kevin found Heather waiting for him in the hall. "Please tell me you've magically divined the cause of Lurid Hair Syndrome?" Kevin said hopefully.

Heather smiled. "Well, perhaps, but not from me. You've got a call on line two from Rod at the lab. It's about Laura Tanner's test results."

"I'll take it in my office." Kevin headed inside and dropped the folder he was carrying on his desk before picking up the phone. "Yes, Rod, what do you have for me?"

"Well, I'm about to fax the results over, but I wanted to talk to you about it first so I can ask you one thing," said Rod.

"And what's that?"

"Is this some sort of joke?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you sure you actually sent us what you think you did?" Rod asked. "A sample of human hair?"

"That's precisely what I sent you," Kevin said firmly. "I know the coloration is odd, but that's the very reason I sent it in for analysis."

"Well, we did analyze it," said Rod. "No trace of any chemicals or dyes. And no eumelanin or pheomelanin, either."

Kevin sat up straighter in his chair. "Come again?"

"There's not a trace of either biochemical responsible for human hair color. This thing shouldn't even have any color, let alone bright orange. The only explanation is that it's not even human hair."

"It most assuredly came from a human female," Kevin declared. "I don't play games like this with you guys."

"I know, but when stuff like this happens, I have to follow up on it," said Rod.

Kevin took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So the test result boils down to: orange, reason unknown."

"Pretty much, yes."

Kevin stroked his beard as he considered. "Then I guess you're going to have similar reports in the future, just different colors."

Rod paused. "You're kidding me, right?"

"So far I have encountered orange, purple, yellow, olive green, and azure," said Kevin. "You already have at least four more samples on the way."

"Are you dealing with some sort of weird new disease?"

"I don't know," said Kevin. "It's not following any known pattern."

"Think you should contact the Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin sighed. "And tell them what? That I've got cases of hair turning odd colors? They'd be as skeptical as you. Technically, all my patients with this are healthy, save for the usual post-flu effects."

"Well, all right, I'll try to convince the others here that you're not pranking us and we'll churn through those other tests."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Kevin hung up. He was about to stand up when he considered something he had just said. He glanced at the picture of Anna before putting on his reading glasses and examining his patient records for the last few days. He then thumbed the intercom. "Heather, could you step into my office, please?"

Heather arrived seconds later. "You find something?"

"Sort of," said Kevin. "Laura's test results were a bust, but the conversation I just had with the lab tech made me think of something. All of our patients with odd hair had the flu, didn't they?"

Heather smirked. "It's kinda hard to find someone who didn't have it."

"Yes, but hear me out. What if this is somehow related to the flu?"

Heather's eyebrows rose. "I'd rather it not be. I had the flu, remember?"

"How long ago did you get the first symptoms?"

Heather clutched the folders to her chest a little more tightly. "About two and a half weeks ago. It was about six days ago when I felt well enough to come back to work."

Kevin tilted his head. "And obviously your hair is not changing color."

"Yet," said Heather in a low voice. "At least according to you."

Kevin stood. "From now on, we ask every patient who comes through this office if they had the flu and when. Also, I'd like you to follow up with the patients we already had and get that information from them."

Heather gave him a skeptical look. "You don't seriously believe the flu did this?"

"Laura's test results showed no dyes whatsoever," said Kevin. "I don't think your theory about viral marketing is holding water. I'm back at square one, and that means I'll follow any lead, no matter how remote."

Heather sighed. "All right, but I have to give you a heads up. Janet Turner called."

"Fred Turner's daughter?"

"Yes. She said her father's been acting weird in his phone calls to her," said Heather. "Well, weirder than usual, I guess. She's on her way into town from Nebraska. She's going to try to convince him to come in for a checkup."

Kevin sighed. "Oh, fun."

"You remember the last time he was here," Heather said.

"Yes. He was convinced the vitamin shot I wanted to give him was a secret government serum intended to control his mind, and he barricaded himself inside the supply closet."

Heather nodded. "I'll make sure the police are on speed-dial."

"Yes, do that, please."

At the end of the school day, Bob slipped out of the building from a different entrance than the one Laura and Jenny tended to use and headed straight home. He heard Sarah typing at her computer, and Harold was on the phone speaking in formal, quiet tones, most likely another phone screening for a job.

Bob headed up to his room and shut the door before sitting before his computer. He started Skype and hesitated. He really shouldn't be disturbing his mother if she was sick, but worry weighed too heavily on his mind.

He initiated the call, and to his surprise, it was answered in less than a minute. When the video started, it was jerky at first, and the camera was aimed above his mother's head at a wall. A hand reached to the side and the camera slid back down, and it was clear that Eileen was taking the call from her laptop in bed. "Hey, Bobby!" Eileen said in a raspy voice. She coughed a few times before saying, "Sorry, I mean Bob."

Bob smiled faintly. "It's all right. Maybe I'm being silly for insisting on it."

Eileen shook her head. "Just means my little guy is growing up."

"How are you feeling?"

"Eh, like shit," Eileen said. The video was still shaking a bit, and it took Bob a moment to realize it was because his mother was shivering. "Typical for the flu."

"Didn't it hit you kinda hard?"

Eileen chuckled weakly, only to have it devolve into another coughing fit. "Yeah, it pretty much knocked me flat soon as I got home."

Bob gave her mother a troubled look. "I'm a little worried about you, Mom."

Eileen waved a hand. "It's just the flu, I've had it before. I'll get over it and be just fine."

"It's just that something's really weird about it."

Eileen tilted her head. "What's up?"

"Well, this is going to sound a bit stupid, but--" He explained about the others' hair problems and Laura's eyes.

Eileen smirked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Jenny didn't mention anything about it when she talked to me this morning. I guess I just didn't notice the pink streak in her hair. You sure the rest of the family's not pulling a prank on you or something?"

"Mom, I'd know dye or a wig if I saw it," said Bob. "Also, if this was some new affliction, wouldn't it be more consistent? Like everyone's hair would turn a single color, or be a variation of their existing color. Instead, there's no rhyme or reason to it." He paused. "And it's not just here."

Eileen paused to cough again and to wrap the blanket around her more tightly, which steadied the video somewhat. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm seeing it at school, too. Many of them are trying to hide it with hats or hoods or bad dye jobs, but about a quarter of the other students have some form of oddly colored hair. Even some of the teachers have it."

"And you think this has something to do with the flu?"

"Well, I don't have any hard evidence," said Bob. "It's the only thing everyone with this has in common."

"So why am I not hearing about this?" Eileen asked. "Sounds like prime fodder for the internet." Her voice broke up into a spasm of coughing, and she shivered so hard the laptop screen pitched backwards. For a few seconds, Bob saw nothing but the picture hanging on the wall above the headboard. Eileen yanked it back into view and groaned. "I'm really sorry, but I gotta get some rest. This is really taking a lot out of me. I hadn't wanted to say anything, but--"

Bob forced a small smile. "It's okay, I understand. Take care of yourself, Mom."

Eileen's lips curled into a trembling smile. "Email me if anything else happens. I'll try to reply when I'm feeling better."

"I will, I promise. I love you, Mom."

Eileen's smile steadied. "I love you, too."

Bob closed the call and turned to his browser. It still displayed the article he had been reading that morning before school, which contained a picture of a smiling Sarah standing beside her first major archaeological find, a previously unknown cliff dwelling uncovered in the wake of a forest fire.

He opened a new tab. His first searches concerning odd hair color turned up little more than furry and cosplay sites. He was about to give up when he finally came upon a tumblr blog of a young woman. She had posted a picture of a streak of violet in her hair, dated that morning, claiming it had spontaneously appeared.

He looked back at her earlier posts. He found one saying how she was finally recovering from a bout of the flu she got while on a ski trip to Breckenridge, which was 15 miles south of Lazy Pines. He clicked over to her profile, hoping to see something that would hint she was posting from Lazy Pines, or somewhere else in Colorado.

She was posting from Arizona.

Harold looked up from where he had been watching TV in the living room when he heard the door to Bob's room open. "Hey, sport. Everything okay?"

Bob hesitated halfway down the stairs. "Just worried about stuff."

Harold thumbed the "mute" button on the remote and tossed it aside. "I can tell. Want to talk about it?"

Bob continued down the stairs and shrugged. "Nothing more to tell. I already said what I thought was causing this hair thing."

Harold ran his fingers through his own hair. "We're all concerned about it, but that's not what I meant."

Bob had started past the sofa to the kitchen, but stopped and looked at Harold. "What do you mean?"

"You've been acting really distant lately."

Bob sighed and looked away.

"It started before your mother visited, and it seemed to get worse after that."

Bob's jaw tightened. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Are you angry with me?" asked Harold. "With Sarah?"

Bob remained silent.

"Because if you are, I haven't a clue why," Harold said gently. "And that bothers me."

"Tell me the truth," said Bob. "Am I wanted here?"

Harold blinked in surprise. "Of course you are. Why would you think otherwise? I know Laura and Jenny don't involve you in a lot of stuff but--"

Bob shook his head halfway through Harold's sentence. "I don't have anything in common with them. I'm fine with them doing their own thing."

"Then where did that question come from?"

"You took me in because you always wanted a son."

Harold had not recalled telling Bob that directly, but he saw no reason to lie about it. "Yes, that's right, but that wasn't the only consideration. Sarah and I wanted you to have a good home. Forgive me for saying this about your mother, but she just wasn't up to the task of raising you."

Bob nodded quickly. "No, I understand all that. I mean, maybe she is now."

Harold decided not to debate that point. "Do you want to go back with her?"

"I don't know." Bob paused. "Jenny was unexpected, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was. Sarah had failed repeatedly to conceive again before that. We were very surprised to discover she was pregnant a few weeks after we took you in."

Bob turned his head as Sarah began talking on the phone in her office.

"So why is this coming up now?" said Harold. "I don't remember discussing this with you."

Bob listened to a few snippets of conversation before turning back to Harold. "Voices really carry in this house, you know?"

Harold gave him a puzzled look. "Huh?"

Bob shook his head. "Look, I need to get to my homework, and I'm really thirsty. I just want to get some water and head back upstairs."

He fled before Harold could say another word.

Harold pondered Bob's words. He remembered how Jenny had heard him and Sarah arguing the day before and tried to slip up the stairs unnoticed. He recalled several other arguments that he had recently ...

Harold suddenly sighed and dropped his face into his hands. "Shit," he muttered before heading to Sarah's office.

Sarah spun around in his chair. "That was Greg. You're not going to believe this. Someone tried to hack his computer, the one he had the pics on."

"Sarah," Harold said softly. "We need to talk."

"Didn't you just hear what I said?"

"It's about Bob. He heard us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Two weeks ago. That little dust-up we had about finances when, uh, certain things were said in the heat of the moment."

Sarah just stared at him for another confused moment before finally uttering a despairing sigh. "Dammit." She stood. "Yes, this is more important."

"Let's go for a walk," said Harold.

They donned their jackets, called up to Bob that they were stepping out for a short while, and headed out the door. "Bob is very smart," said Sarah as they reached the street. "He's going to figure out that we're talking about him."

"Let him," said Harold. "Maybe he'll think we actually care about how he feels, which we do."

Sarah sighed. "Remind me again what we said?"

"I said something to the effect that I hadn't asked for three kids. Then you countered about not being the one to want a son so badly that I was willing to take in someone else's kid. Then I said something about you wanting just as bad to yank Bob away from your sister. Somewhere along the way we started arguing about not waiting long enough to know you were pregnant--"

"Okay, I get it," Sarah muttered.

"I feel like we used him as a punching bag," said Harold.

"I care for Bob just as much as I do for our daughters. So do you. Surely he knows that."

"Honestly? I don't know," said Harold. "Maybe he got a bad vibe from me. I'll come clean, Sarah. I had hoped for a son I could spend a lot of time with, who wanted to do things my Dad did with me. But I'm an outdoors guy and he's not."

"But you two had something in common the last couple of years," said Sarah. "You're in the IT industry now and he's into computer programming."

"Yeah, and I've tried to engage him in conversation about it, but he never wants to hang around for more than ten minutes, like all these years has made him uncomfortable around me."

"And yet he started calling you Dad!" Sarah declared. "I don't get it."

"Maybe it was just to placate me. Something like, 'see, I'm calling you Dad now, so you can stop trying to be my Dad.'"

"That's not at all logical."

"He's a teenager. By definition, he doesn't have to be logical."

Sarah turned to face her husband. "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now. Both my career and my family seem to be falling apart at the seams. Yes, I know, you don't like it when I inject my career into discussions about family, but right now the two seemed inextricably linked."

Harold scratched his head. "We may have to make some very hard decisions, like moving someplace where I can find a job."

"That's not going to magically fix things."

"No, it won't. But it will introduce some damn stability and income." He took a deep breath. "And that's assuming this stupid hair thing is not some new disease that's going to drain our finances further."

Sarah picked up a few strands of her hair. "This is really what we should be worrying about, isn't it? It seems so stupid that something like a change in hair color scares the hell out of me."

Harold wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist and drew her close. "No, it doesn't sound stupid at all."

Laura buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket and shivered as the air had become decidedly colder during the progression of the day. She glanced up at the mountains where clouds slowly brewed, a mist rolling down their sides in prelude to another spring storm.

Jenny suddenly burst past her before spinning around to face her, hair whipping around her head. "I need a place to act out a scene."

"Of course you do," said Laura in a low voice. "We can go to the park."

"There are a lot more interesting places than that around here."

"But knowing you, they're either dangerous or on private property. So it's the park or we go home."

Jenny placed her hands on her hips. "Wow, way to be really bossy."

"Call it whatever you want," said Laura. "But Mom put me in charge of you, and I'm taking it seriously."

"Yeah, almost too serious."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jenny shook her head. "Never mind, forget it."

Laura stepped up to her. "Look, I just want to do this right. I don't want to fail ... to fail to live up to Mom's expectations of me."

Jenny made gagging noises.

"Stop it. Now, do we go to the park or home?"

Jenny sighed dramatically. "The park."

"Thank you."

Laura soon realized with chagrin that Jenny was not going to wait until they got to the park to start her "acting". She wished she knew how Jenny had gone from being an almost painfully shy kid at five to this at fourteen. She was often mystified as to how little she knew her sister, but then again, the days when they were inseparable were long past.

At the park, Jenny became even more dramatic, her voice rising such that other park-goers glanced in her direction in amusement. Perhaps it was just a distraction from their own woes, as some of them sported streaks of odd color in their hair.

Jenny stopped and reached around behind her head. She pulled a fistful of pink hair into view. "You know, maybe I can do something with this anyway."

Laura stared. "Huh?"

Jenny tossed the hair behind her. "I had hoped for blue hair. It fit in perfectly with one of the main characters, but I can make pink work after all."

"Wait, you actually want this to happen?"

"Why not?"

"I don't believe this," Laura murmured.

"Purple!" Jenny cried. "Purple eyes to go with the pink hair. That would work."

"You're insane," Laura blurted. "Aren't you worried about this?"

Jenny paused. "Yeah, a little," she said in a softer voice. "I just don't want to freak out over it."

"I'm not freaking out," said Laura.

"Yeah, but you don't know how to have fun with it."

"And why do you feel the need to do that?"

"Because the real world is boring."

Laura paused. "Run that by me again?"

Jenny grinned. "The world is boring. My own head is more exciting. I know I can write this stuff down, but it's like that's not enough." Jenny threw up her arms. "My hair is turning pink! Maybe my eyes will turn purple or some other color! It's weird, it's maybe a little scary, but you know what it's not?"

One corner of Laura's mouth rose. "Boring?"

"Exactly."

"I still think you're insane," Laura said. "I mean, come on, you actually trespassed on Fred Turner's property."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Like I'm the first one in the family who ever did something like that. Dad did it when he was a kid."

"Now you're just making stuff up."

"I'm not!" said Jenny. "He told me a cool story once. He and a friend sneaked onto a nearby rancher's property to shoot off fireworks. They were pretending to be soldiers on a battlefield. The firecrackers were gunshots, the bottle rockets artillery, that sort of thing."

Laura gave her a skeptical look. "I never heard him tell that one."

"Well, yeah, it was a while ago," said Jenny in a more subdued voice. "He kinda stopped telling me more stories after that."

"Probably to stop giving you dangerous ideas."

Jenny shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, like I told Mom, I didn't know it was Turner's land. Except for the gun, he didn't look very scary. For one thing, he wasn't very tall." She giggled. "And he had a full head of peach hair and was wearing silly ears on his head."

Laura's eyes widened. "What do you mean, silly ears?"

"It looked like something you'd see someone wearing at a furrycon," said Jenny. "He looked ridiculous."

Laura paled.

Jenny tilted her head. "You okay?"

"T-Turner is the person I think I caught the flu from," Laura said in a quavering voice.

Jenny's eyes widened. "Really?"

"He was sick when I saw him in the grocery store a few weeks ago. I had the first flu symptoms two days after that."

Jenny paused for a long moment before finally giving her sister a weak smile. "I think you're worrying too much. Really, if you had seen him for yourself, you'd think the same thing I did."

Laura ran a trembling hand through her hair. "I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it, aren't I?"

Chapter 8 - Family Forgotten

Starlight turned her head towards Twilight as they stepped aboard the train. "You haven't told me yet exactly what we're going to do in Canterlot this morning."

Twilight glanced around to ensure they were alone. She had requested a private car; she generally didn't like to use her princess privilege in that manner, but this time she felt it justified. "We're going to start our investigation with that name we found last night," she said as they took their seats.

"And how can we do that if this pony has been effectively erased from history?" asked Starlight. "And even from ponies' minds?"

"By starting with the minds I know best," said Twilight with a faint smile. "My parents."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

Outside, the conductor shouted, "All aboard!" Twilight waited until the train lurched away from the station before answering. "Are you aware of Canterlot foal naming traditions?"

"Only vaguely," said Starlight. "You got your first name from your mother, Twilight Velvet, right?"

"Yes, and Sparkle is a variation on Light."

"So how did they ever name your brother Shining Armor?"

"My mother's grandfather was named Steel Armor and was a very well-respected member of the Royal Guard," said Twilight. "He had passed away a few months before Shining was born, and Mom wanted to honor the stallion's memory. 'Shining' was the best name they could come up with on the light theme that worked with 'Armor'."

"Okay, I follow you so far," said Starlight. "What about it?"

"My grandfather on my father's side is Shimmering Light. His wife is named Sunset Glow."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. You really think--"

"--that if they ever had a daughter, they could potentially name her 'Sunset Shimmer'."

"But they didn't," said Starlight. "You told me your father had no siblings."

Twilight nodded. "I know. But if he did have a sister, she would be my aunt."

"Wow," Starlight breathed.

"This is personal now, Starlight," Twilight said. "This has affected my own family. If my theory is right, we've been made to forget this pony was ever our kin. My grandparents are the kindest ponies you could ever meet. The idea that they could've been made to forget they ever had a daughter is revolting."

Starlight nodded, her eyes averted.

"Something the matter?" Twilight asked.

"Oh, um, no, it's fine," said Starlight in a subdued voice.

"No, it's not," declared Twilight. "What is it?"

Starlight sighed. "I was just thinking how easy it would've been for me to do something like this when I was messing with the timeline."

Twilight placed a hoof on Starlight's shoulder. "Please, don't make up reasons to feel guilty just for the sake of it."

Starlight frowned and looked at Twilight. "But what if this is my fault? What if I did do something that set this in motion somehow? For all I know, maybe I was the pony who put that mind magic spell on the book and--"

"No," said Twilight. "Starlight, during our fight, I became very aware of how the energies of the time stream operated. I don't feel anything remotely like that here. This is not a timeline disruption."

Starlight smiled faintly. "I hope you're right about that."

"Think of it this way: you know all about how small things can change history. Put that knowledge to use here and help me find ways to poke more holes in this dark magic spell."

"You really think we can do that?"

"Dark magic is powerful but not very precise," said Twilight. "It was never meant for something this delicate. That means if we can get aspects of reality to actively fight against it, it will weaken." She paused. "And force the original caster to renew it."

"And thus forcing the caster to reveal her identity," said Starlight. "Um, or his identity."

Twilight sighed. "It's okay, Starlight. I'm resigned to the idea that Celestia is the number one suspect. She's the only pony around twenty years ago who could pull off such a feat. Luna was still on the moon and Cadance had only just become an alicorn. This is indeed alicorn-level magic."

"I'm sorry, Twilight," said Starlight softly.

"What we don't know -- and what I truly hope will make some sort of sense -- is Celestia's motivation. What in Equestria would drive her to completely erase the existence of one particular pony?"

Celestia peered at the remaining fruit on the breakfast platter, looking thoughtful. She finally plucked a slice of apple in her magic and raised it to her muzzle. She glanced past it. "You've been rather quiet this morning, dear sister," she said gently before popping the slice in her mouth.

"My apologies, Tia," said Luna with a small smile. "I have things on my mind."

Celestia considered. "Would it have anything to do with that letter you received just before I raised the sun?"

Luna had not realized Celestia had seen her with that letter. Now that she did, she was not surprised Celestia had asked about it. It may seem like an innocent question to most, but where Celestia was trusting to a fault, this was the equivalent of rampant paranoia. "In a way, yes."

"May I ask what it was about?"

Luna was quite tempted to give her sister a taste of her own medicine and be just as elusive as she but decided it was best to allay suspicion. "It was from Twilight Sparkle, thanking me for helping her with a particularly difficult nightmare."

While that had indeed been in the letter, the context had been different. It had also indicated Twilight would be in Canterlot that morning.

"Twilight? A nightmare?" Celestia said.

Luna could not tell if her sister's surprise were genuine or not. "Everypony experiences nightmares now and then, and Twilight is no different."

Celestia chuckled. "I know, dear Luna, but I simply want to make sure Twilight is in the correct frame of mind for a task I have for her."

Luna hesitated. "Task?"

"I was originally intending to leave Canterlot in two days to resume talks with the changelings," said Celestia. "But then I realized that this would be an excellent opportunity for the Princess of Friendship."

Normally, Luna would agree, but now she had to suspect Celestia's motivations. "While I believe Twilight would indeed excel at any task you place before her, isn't this more suited for the head of state?"

"Really, the only use I have in the end is placing my signature upon the final documents."

"But where you have already started this work, doesn't it make more sense for you to finish it?"

Celestia smiled. "Now, Luna, one would think you have some doubts as to my intentions. I only wish to help broaden Twilight's experience."

"And one would think you still consider her your student who needs regular assignments to keep her busy," said Luna, unable to contain her frustration anymore.

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "Twilight is free to refuse my request. Of course, I will insist on knowing why. We will know soon, as I intend to head to the Castle of Friendship after breakfast."

Luna kept her expression as neutral as she could, very much aware of her sister's scrutiny. "Might I suggest you wait one more day?"

Celestia hesitated. "For what reason?"

"Twilight's nightmare disrupted her sleep. She is likely feeling a bit frazzled this morning. Giving her a day to recover would put her in a better state of mind." Luna hated lying. She wished this had been the day before, just after Twilight had actually experienced her nightmare, at which point Luna's statement might contain a kernel of truth.

Celestia considered as she selected another bit of fruit. She stared at the slice of peach, slowly turning it over and over as she contemplated. "Very well."

Luna did not trust the flat tone in her sister's voice. She forced a smile and rose to her hooves. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast as always, but I need to retire for the day."

Celestia's smile returned as if it had never left. "Of course, dear sister. Pleasant dreams."

Luna headed out of the chamber and cantered down the hall. At the entrance to her quarters, her night pony guards came to attention. She jabbed a hoof towards one. "I have an important task for you."

"Yes, Princess," said the guard.

"Follow me inside."

The guard dutifully followed and stood just inside the door. Luna closed it behind him with a nudge of magic and grabbed a scroll and quill. "You are to be discreet," said Luna. "You are not to reveal the nature of your mission to anypony. If asked, you are to deny you are even on a task for me. Is this clear?"

"I understand, Princess!"

Luna wrote on the scroll: Twilight, there is a danger that Celestia may try to visit you at the Castle today. I believe she is trying to divert you from your course. Use your best judgment as to how to proceed.

She rolled up the scroll and levitated it to the guard, who tucked it under his wing. "Find Princess Twilight Sparkle and give that to her," said Luna. "She is in Canterlot, most likely at her parents' residence."

"I will do as you command, Princess!" the guard declared.

"Then go."

The guard bowed his head and left.

Luna wasn't quite done. She had to delay her sister from going to Ponyville long enough for Twilight to receive the letter. She had an idea who might be persuaded to help, even if it was a long shot.

Then again, it had been a while since he had pulled a prank in the palace. He was long overdue.

The unicorn mare who came to the door gasped in delight as her eyes fell upon Twilight. "Oh, heavens! Twily!"

Twilight smiled. "Hi, Mom."

"Come here!" said Twilight Velvet as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Behind Twilight, Starlight glanced away, shuffling one of her fore-hooves. "I had heard you were in Canterlot the other day."

"Sorry I didn't visit then, Mom."

Velvet broke off the hug and beamed at her daughter. "Please, Twily, no need at all to apologize, we understand you're so very busy these days." She tilted her head and looked past Twilight. "Oh, hello."

Starlight waved a fore-hoof. "Um, h-hi."

Velvet smiled. "You must be Starlight Glimmer."

Starlight hesitated before stepping forward and offering her fore-hoof. "Um, yes, I am. Pleased to meet -- oof!"

Velvet hugged her as well. "Any friend of our daughter is a friend of us."

"Er, thanks," Starlight murmured.

"Please, won't you both come in?" said Velvet as she broke off the hug. As she turned and headed inside, she called out, "Nighty! We have visitors! Twilight and her friend Starlight!"

A unicorn stallion cantered into the room. "Oh, my stars, hello, Twilight!" said Night Light.

"Hi, Dad," said Twilight. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."

Night waved a hoof. "Nonsense! We always have time for you, Twily."

"Would you like something to eat?" said Velvet.

"No, I'm okay," said Twilight.

"Are you sure? You look a bit thin to me."

Twilight blushed. "Mom, please ..."

Starlight pressed her hoof to her muzzle to hide a grin.

"How about just something to drink?" said Twilight. "Maybe some juice? Would you like some as well, Starlight?"

"Yes, please, thank you," said Starlight.

Velvet smiled. "Be right back."

Night stepped forward as his wife trotted off to the kitchen. "Please, everypony, sit down."

Twilight hopped onto the sofa, and Starlight followed. "I'm afraid this is not strictly a social visit, Dad," said Twilight.

Night sat in an easy chair. "Oh? Is something wrong?"

"You could say that, but not with me. Actually, this concerns you and your immediate family."

Velvet returned with a tray and several glasses of apple juice. "Does it now?" she asked as she set the tray down on the table. She stood next to her husband's chair and placed a hoof on his shoulder.

Starlight immediately levitated a glass to her muzzle, but Twilight ignored hers. "This is kind of hard to explain," said Twilight. "In fact, it's going to sound kind of weird. Let me try this: have you ... have either of you heard the name Sunset Shimmer?"

Night glanced at Velvet, who shook her head. Night looked back to his daughter. "Can't say that the name rings a bell, Twily, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Twilight sighed. "Well, it's not fine, but it's not your fault."

"Who is Sunset Shimmer, dear?" asked Velvet gently. "Maybe if you explain to us who she is, we might remember her."

"I doubt it," said Twilight. She looked at her father. "She's your sister."

Night's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Honey, your father never had a sister," said Velvet in confusion.

"Indeed, I've always been an only foal," said Night.

Velvet's gaze flicked to Starlight. "Wait a minute, dear," she said to Night. "Starlight here was the one who did a bit of mischief with the timeline."

Starlight blinked. "Mischief? That's ... a rather weak word to describe what I did."

"Perhaps that's what this is all about?" Velvet suggested.

"Ah, I see!" said Night. "Meaning in some alternate timeline, I have a sister."

"No, that's not what we mean!" Starlight declared. "We mean you have a sister in this timeline but you forgot her!"

Night and Velvet stared at her. "What?" Night said in a small voice.

Twilight frowned. She had wanted to break this a little more gently, but perhaps the shock would help break the influence of the spell. "I know this sounds incredible, and there's a chance I may be wrong," said Twilight. "Dad, I want you to think very hard on the name Sunset Shimmer and see if it means anything to you."

"I'll do my best, Twily," said Night. "I do admit, it sounds like a name my parents would give a daughter."

"Didn't you tell me your parents wanted a daughter at some point, dear?" Velvet asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

Twilight finally levitated a glass towards her. "How strongly did they want one?"

"Pretty strongly, I would say. Normally I'd tell you to talk to your Grandpa Light or Grandma Glow for more details, but it's kind of a sensitive topic for them."

"Sensitive topic?" Starlight asked. "Why?"

"Your friend is ... quite forthright, Twilight, dear," said Velvet.

Twilight smiled at Starlight. "Yes, but I often like that about her."

Starlight slowly smiled as well.

Velvet glanced down at her husband. "You don't have to tell them if you feel too uncomfortable about it," she said softly.

Night shook his head. "No, Twily doesn't bring up stuff like this for no reason." He sighed and gave Twilight a sad look. "When I was very young, my parents told me they planned to have another foal and were hoping for a daughter. I was quite delighted at the prospect of having a sibling. Yet after repeated failures to conceive, my mother had to tell me that it might not happen. I was so disappointed that I, um, well ..." He fidgeted a bit. "I invented an imaginary sister."

Twilight's eyes widened. "You did what?"

Night blushed. "This is a little embarrassing."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way at all," said Twilight. "But I find it very odd you would happen to do this when I think you might have had a real sister."

Night exchanged a troubled look with Velvet.

"What did you call her?" asked Starlight.

"I called her 'Sunny'," said Night. "But only because it was based on my mother's name."

Twilight frowned. "Or a nickname for 'Sunset Shimmer'."

"Really, Twily, she was as imaginary as the characters in those Daring Do books you enjoy."

"Never mind that, I--" Twilight stopped. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Um, as imaginary as characters in a story?"

"No, that's not what you said. You said Daring Do."

Night blinked. "I did?"

"Yes, you did," Velvet said, bemused.

"I heard it, too," said Starlight. "I just don't get what the significance is."

"The events recounted in Daring Do are real," Twilight said.

Starlight stared at her. "You're joking ... right?"

"It's a long story, I'll tell you later. The point is, I told my parents about it. They know Daring Do is real as well."

Night's pupils shrank slightly. "But then why did I--?"

"Because something in your subconscious -- where you know you had a real sister -- was looking for a way to slip past the magical censor that's suppressing your memories!"

Stark silence settled over the room. Night's eyes glistened. "Good heavens," he whispered before giving Velvet a stricken look. "Could ... c-could I really have had a sister I don't remember?"

Velvet pressed a comforting hoof into her husband's shoulder before casting a troubled gaze at her daughter. "Twily, I don't mean to be cross with you, but the subject of his imaginary sister is more sensitive than he's let on. It ... it caused quite a row in his family right when you were still a foal."

Twilight's eyes widened. "When did that happen?"

"Twily, please--"

"I'm sorry, I know this is painful, but I have to know! When did it happen?"

"Twenty-one years ago," said Night in a quavering voice.

Twilight whipped her head towards Starlight. "Before we left the castle, I had another look at that dark magic spell."

Night's pupils shrank to pinpricks, and Velvet swallowed hard.

"I wanted to see if I could figure out how old it is. I was able to estimate the date of the casting of that spell to about twenty to twenty-one years ago!"

"And that matches the last date of residency in that house on Old Canterlot Way," said Starlight.

"It all fits! They're all tied together somehow!"

Starlight nodded. "I agree, we're really on to something."

Night began shivering hard.

"Something else," Twilight said. "Twenty-one years ago was when Cadance started foalsitting me. If I really did have an aunt, and she was doing that task, that would naturally stop by the time she disappeared and--"

" ... bad influence ..." Night murmured.

Twilight spun around in her seat. "What did you say?"

Night blinked rapidly. His muscles suddenly relaxed. "Huh? Oh, nothing."

"I could've sworn you said 'bad influence'."

"I-I heard it, too," said Velvet.

Night frowned slightly. "Yes, Twily, my parents thought the whole imaginary sister idea would be a bad influence on you, so they insisted I stop."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You were doing the imaginary sister thing into your adulthood? Isn't that kinda weird?"

Night blushed. "Well, I didn't do it seriously, I'm sure. But I don't think my parents wanted to be reminded of their failure to have a daughter."

"Twily," Velvet said in a shaky voice. "Did you say 'dark magic' earlier?"

"Yes, I did," said Twilight. "There is a huge dark magic enchantment that's suppressing all record and memory of Sunset Shimmer. But the fact that I was able to get Dad to fight against it, even if briefly, means I may be able to break its hold without--"

A loud knock at the door startled them. Night bolted out of the chair. "I'll get it!" he cried as he galloped away.

"I'm going to have to be frank, Twilight," Velvet said. "I'm a little scared right now."

Twilight got off the sofa and trotted over to her. She drew her mother into a hug. "I'm going to figure this out, I promise."

"Um, T-Twilight?" said Night.

Starlight's pupils shrunk. Twilight uttered a small gasp and broke off the hug.

"It's for you," Night said in a weak voice.

The night pony stallion marched forward. "Princess Twilight Sparkle!" He passed a scroll to Twilight. "Important message for you from Princess Luna."

"Luna??" Twilight cried. She took the scroll in her magic. "Yes, thank you."

The guard came to attention, bowed, then turned and headed out.

Starlight rushed over to her as Twilight unrolled the scroll. "Oh, no!" said Twilight.

"I think Princess Celestia's on to us." Starlight said in a nervous voice.

"And I left that book on the table in the library! I better get a letter off to Spike!"

"Is everything all right?" Velvet asked tentatively.

Twilight rolled up the scroll and tucked it in her mane. "Um, I have a bit of an emergency right now. I'll be back as soon as I can. And please, if you remember anything else, let me know! Come on, Starlight!"

Celestia truly did not enjoy lying any more than Luna had. She wished she could explain at length how everything she did was with her beloved ponies in mind. Yet she could not risk even the slightest possibility that the enchantment would degrade before she had a chance to renew it. Before she could do that, she needed Twilight as far away from Canterlot as possible, or the surge of dark magic would be detected. She needed to keep up the deception only as long as it took her to figure out what had gone wrong. Then she could come clean and accept either Twilight's forgiveness or unending hatred.

Then she'd have the monumental task of forgiving herself.

She had intended to make a brief announcement at the opening of Day Court that she needed to delay the proceedings due to an urgent matter, yet she then faced what became the daunting challenge of getting to Day Court.

The usual corridor she took had been the scene of an unfortunate collision between the cleaning staff and the cooking staff. A very large cake that was being transported to a banquet hall for one of the nobility's many social engagements lay splattered across the width of the hallway, burying several ponies in thick vanilla cake and pink frosting. Guards frantically tried to reach the stuck ponies as best as the slick floor would allow.

"Our sincerest apologies, Princess Celestia," said the head chef in his usual snooty voice. "But may I ask you take an alternate route so we can clean this up?"

"Very well," Celestia said as she turned away.

"Of course, Your Highness could chose to eat her way through it."

Celestia blinked and spun around. "What did you just say to me??"

"That you could heat your way through it," said the chef. "Using your horn, of course. One good blast should do it, if you're careful not to hit the other ponies."

"Ah, no," said Celestia. "I'll be on my way."

Celestia made a mental note to send a memo to the palace counselor. The chef had obviously been working too hard.

She turned down a less-used corridor, only to find it filled with foals of the nobility using it as a makeshift go-cart derby. "Oh, sorry about that, Princess!" said the lilting voice of the nanny. "I didn't realize they'd be in the way this morning."

Celestia smiled softly. "It's all right."

"Shall I have them stop and clear a path for your vast posterior?"

"No, I don't have the heart to--" She stared. "Wait, clear a path for what?"

The nanny smiled. "For my vast superior."

Celestia tilted her head. "Um ... no, that's fine. I'll find another route."

She glanced back as she headed away. All the carts had cakes painted on them.

Celestia headed down another hallway. She stopped to get her bearings, worked out several convoluted ways to get to Day Court before finally stomping a fore-hoof. "Oh, ponyfeathers, I'll just teleport."

A flash of light later, and she was inside her court. She frowned as she realized she was not quite where she had targeted. She had wanted to appear beside her throne facing the door. Instead, she was standing in the middle of the room, facing her throne.

"Ah, Princess, very good, you're here!"

Celestia whirled around. She looked past the lone unicorn noble towards the still closed doors. "Prince Blueblood, how did you get -- actually, I don't care. I am sorry, but Day Court is delayed. Please relay that to your fellow nobles. Now, if you will excuse me--"

"But, Princess, I have a matter of utmost urgency!" said Blueblood. His horn glowed, and he extracted a scroll from his mane.

"I am sure it can wait."

"This is quite the emergency, Princess. We need an immediate decision about critically low supplies at the palace."

Celestia frowned. "What could possibly be so urgent that it warrants a delay from a critical task I must perform?"

Blueblood unrolled the scroll. "Cake."

Celestia blinked. "Cake?"

"Indeed, cake!"

Celestia face-hoofed. "I see what's happening here, Blueblood. You've been lured into taking part of an elaborate prank that--"

"For instance, Princess, is there enough of it?" said Blueblood.

"You're likely under the influence of a--"

"Are the cakes big enough? Do they really go right to the Princess' flanks?"

Celestia narrowed her eyes. "That's quite enough."

"Does the Princess get gas when she has cake?" Blueblood rambled on. "If so, is there adequate ventilation when she--"

"ENOUGH!" Celestia shouted. "I'll deal with this nonsense when I get back." She started past the Prince.

"But would you stay if this concerned Old Canterlot Way?" declared Blueblood.

Celestia froze at the door. She slowly turned around. "Why do you believe I would be interested in that?"

"Oh, but everypony has their secrets, Princess," said Blueblood in a sly voice. "Now may I have a proper hearing?"

Celestia's mind raced. Could the nobles have found out? Or had Twilight mentioned something to them? No, she had little use for the nobles herself. This could be just a fishing expedition, but Celestia could not take the chance.

"Very well," said Celestia in a low voice as she trotted over to him.

"Please, Princess," said Blueblood, gesturing with a hoof. "Be so kind as to seat your ample plot upon your throne."

"My what?!"

"Your regal plot."

Celestia narrowed her eyes as she stepped past the Prince. "I do not care for my ... posterior to be referred to by that particular word no matter what adjective precedes it." She reached her throne and turned around. "So kindly refrain from--"

As she sat down upon the cushion covering her throne, it let out a farting noise of such intensity that it shook the walls and rattled the windows, continuing for almost a full minute until it was heard everywhere in the palace.

Before a stunned Celestia could respond, Blueblood snorted, then fell to the floor howling with laughter.

Celestia sighed and draped a foreleg over her eyes. "Discord, I presume."

Blueblood vanished in a flash of light, to be replaced with the still laughing draconequus. "Oh, my! The look on your face just now! It was priceless!"

Celestia stood up. "Really, Discord, a whoopee cushion? Isn't that a tad passe?"

Discord drew himself up to his full height. "I like to think of it as the classics never go out of style." He snapped his talons, and a plate filled with angel food cake hovered before him. "Here's some cake to make up for it."

"Ah, no, thank you."

"Oh, but I do insist." He gave the plate a flip, launching the cake towards Celestia.

Her horn glowed, and a blast of magic intercepted it. Rather than incinerating as she had intended, it splattered in all directions, hitting the windows. Whatever window it hit, the scene formerly displayed on it was replaced with a painting of Celestia eating cake.

"Is there a reason for all this?" Celestia said in a tired voice.

Discord munched on the empty plate. "You mean other than wanting to play a long overdue prank on Princess Sunbutt?"

"Why did you mention Old Canterlot Way?"

Discord finished off the plate and licked his talons. "There used to be a very good bakery there that had the finest cakes."

Celestia face-hoofed. "Discord, could we turn the topic to something other than cake?"

"Oh, very well. Truthfully? It was ..." Discord waved a talon, and the room was cast into absolute darkness. Celestia illuminated her horn in time to see Discord conjure a bow and launch an arrow in a random direction.

"A shot in the dark?" Celestia said. "Was it the same with the stuff about secrets?"

Discord chuckled, conjured a pull-chain, and tugged on it. It clicked, and full light returned to the room. "Now, now, my dear Princess. Do you honestly think I wouldn't have seen that little rip in the fabric of reality? I figured you must be concealing it for some reason and thought it would be good for a little entertainment." A container of popcorn materialized in his paw. "I was not disappointed."

Celestia stepped up to him. "Do you intend to share this information concerning the rift with anypony else?"

"And spoil my fun? Not a chance!" A flash of light, and Discord was dressed like a boxer. He adopted a fighting stance and made some quick jabs in the air. "I'm quite looking forward to seeing you in a match-up against Sparklebutt."

"I don't want this to be a 'match-up', Discord. I don't like being at odds with her."

Discord shrugged, and his boxing paraphernalia vanished. "I must say, this is unusual for you, Celestia. Being so secretive and confrontational. Not what I expected from you at all." He leaned over and whispered to her with a sly smile. "Keep up the good work." He winked and vanished. A moment later, the windows faded back to their original scenes.

Celestia frowned. "I'm doing this to prevent a confrontation, not encourage one."

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Discord had appeared in one of the windows. "Who are you trying to convince, Celestia? Me? Or yourself?" He vanished once more.

"All right, I got a letter off to Spike," said Twilight. "He'll secure the book in one of the shielded rooms I use for practicing potentially dangerous magic. That should hide it from Celestia's senses."

"But that's not going to solve the problem of us not being there," Starlight said. "How are we going to get back to the Castle in time?"

"If it were just me, I could fly most of the way and teleport the remaining distance."

"Maybe you should go on ahead, then."

"We both have to be there," Twilight said. "You said yourself that she suspects you can be of great help to me in any investigation. We can't afford to raise any more suspicions!"

"Then what do we do?"

Twilight glanced up into the sky. "I have an idea. Starlight, you can hold that self-levitation spell for quite a while, right?"

"Well, yes, but I can't fly very well with it," said Starlight. "Certainly nowhere near as fast as you."

"You won't have to. I'll be your wings."

Starlight's pupils shrank. "Are you serious?"

"You have any other ideas?"

Starlight sighed. "No. All right, let's try it." Her horn glowed, the aura spreading over the rest of her body. Her hooves left the ground a moment later. "Now what?"

Twilight extended her wings. She rose into the air and situated herself over her student, then wrapped her fore-legs around Starlight's barrel.

Starlight yelped. "Um, well, this isn't awkward at all. Nope, not a bit."

Twilight blushed as she flew up and forward with Starlight in tow. "Oh, hush."

"Just get us back to the Castle as quickly as possible so I can start forgetting this ever happened."

"Twilight Sparkle!" Celestia's voice rang from the entrance of the Castle of Friendship. "Starlight Glimmer! May I speak with you both for a few moments?"

Spike hurried back up the stairs from the depths of the subterranean magic labs as fast as his feet would carry him. "Oh, um, hey, there, Princess!" Spike said in a bright if slightly quavering voice. "What brings you here?"

Celestia swept her gaze over the room as she stepped forward. She smiled down at Spike. "I have a task for Twilight and her pupil. If you would be so kind as to inform them I am here, I would appreciate it."

"Ah, well, um ..."

"Is something the matter?"

"They're ... they're out!"

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Out?"

"Way out!" said Spike. "I mean, they're far away. Er, not that far away! They're in town. Somewhere."

Celestia chuckled. "You appear to be a little confused. Are you certain they have not taken a little trip somewhere?"

"Positive! They're right here in town."

Celestia nodded and turned away. "Then perhaps I will look for them in Ponyville. It's been too long since I paid the citizens of this town an informal visit."

Spike's eyes widened. "Oh, but they'll be back soon! We just have to wait for them, that's all."

Celestia turned back around. "Now, Spike, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Sure there is! I haven't told you what I had for breakfast this morning, or what the weather schedule for today is, or--"

"I didn't quite mean that, and ..." Celestia trailed off. She raised her head and looked towards the library.

Spike swallowed hard and started whistling.

"Spike," said Celestia in a more serious voice. "Has Twilight been practicing any unusual magic lately?"

Spike fidgeted. "What do you mean?"

"I thought for just a moment I caught a lingering resonance of dark magic."

Spike's eyes widened. "Dark magic? Here? Oh, now, that's silly! Oh, um, I didn't mean you're silly, Princess! I just--" He glanced past Celestia. "They're here!"

Celestia turned around as hoofsteps galloped towards her. "Princess! Sorry!" a winded Twilight said as she skidded to a halt. "Didn't know you were coming! Was busy in town!"

"Uh, same here!" said Starlight. She giggled nervously. "All that friendship lesson stuff just keeps us busy busy busy!"

Celestia smiled gently. "That's very good to hear, and it is part of my reason for this visit. Twilight, you are no doubt aware that there is still much work to be done concerning the changeling negotiations."

Twilight nodded and smiled. "Yes, and I'm looking forward to hearing more about it when you get back."

"Then you will be glad to hear that you will instead have first-hoof experience with it," said Celestia. "As I am requesting that you and Starlight go in my stead."

Starlight's mouth fell open. "Wh-what??"

Twilight chuckled. "Oh, thank you for this honor, but, well, isn't that more something for you to handle?"

"I can think of no better pony to conclude these negotiations than the Princess of Friendship and her faithful student," said Celestia. "I daresay you are even more qualified than me."

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

Celestia turned to her. "Did you have a comment, Starlight?"

"Uh, no, I'm good," Starlight said quickly.

"Celestia, while I would love to do this--" Twilight began.

"Can you deny this would be an excellent experience for your student?" asked Celestia.

"Well, no, but--"

"Then I think you would want to embrace this opportunity."

Twilight exchanged a look with Starlight. "How soon would we have to leave?" Twilight asked.

"In two days," said Celestia. "Given your skills at preparation, I am confident this is enough time for you to be ready. Do you have any further questions?"

"No," said Twilight in a subdued voice.

Celestia smiled and extended her wings. "Then I bid you good day." She flew up towards one of the open balconies and was gone. A few seconds later came the flash of teleportation magic.

Starlight frowned and turned to Twilight. "You know why she's doing this, don't you?"

"Yes," said Twilight with a heavy sigh. "She wants to renew the dark magic spell when I'm not around."

Spike gasped. "Y-you mean ... Princess Celestia did this?!"

"I can't see who else it could be."

"You're not really intending to go on this little trip, are you?" Starlight asked.

"Of course not," said Twilight. "But that means I now have only two days to find a way to break the spell." She shuddered. "Or to force a confrontation with Celestia."

Chapter 9 - A Cause For Alarm

Laura bashed the button to silence her alarm clock and groaned. She yawned and let one arm dangle over the edge of the bed, only to frown when the sleeve of her nightgown got tangled in her fingers. She shook it free and lifted her hand to her head. She pulled a lock of hair into view. Still curly. Still orange.

She hated the prospect of looking in the mirror anymore. What other strangeness would she see? Was her skin going to change color? She held her hand before her eyes. It still appeared the same healthy hue it had the night before.

As she awoke more fully, she realized one bright spot on that Thursday morning: her tail bone no longer ached. Her relief lasted only as long as it took to roll onto her back, when something soft pressed into her buttocks.

Laura squirmed, thinking that her nightgown had bunched up, yet tugging on it did not help. "Fine, I'll just get up," she muttered.

She got out of bed and was about to take a step when she felt the bottom of her nightgown brush the tops of her feet. She dropped her arms to her sides, and the sleeves drifted past her wrists and partially covered her fingers.

"What the hell?" Laura muttered. She took a step, and again something soft brushed her posterior.

Laura's eyes widened. She reached a trembling hand behind her back, under the nightgown, and slid it under her panties. Her heart fell into her toes.

"Oh, God, no." Laura yanked her hand back and swallowed hard. "No, it has to be something else. It can't be what it ... i-it just can't!"

She raced out of her bedroom and barreled down the hallway. The door to the bathroom was closed, but this slowed her down only long enough for her to fling open the door.

"Ack!" Jenny cried from within the running shower. "What the fuck, Laura?! Get the hell out! Don't think you can make me hurry up, either, because ... wait, what are you doing?"

A stricken Laura had turned herself sideways to the mirror. She swallowed hard and lifted her nightgown up the back, then lowered the rear part of her panties. Four inches of curly orange hair lay in the harsh light of the bathroom.

Jenny frantically wiped her hand against the glass of the shower stall to clear the water and steam. "Holy shit, Laura, is that a tail?!"

That pushed Laura past her ability to cope. She yanked her panties back into place, dropped her face into her hands, and burst into tears.

Sarah paced the dining room as she tried for the third time to get through to Doctor Conner's office. She uttered a ragged sigh and clutched her hair, which had become thicker, longer, and more wavy overnight. She yanked the phone from her ear and frowned. "Still getting only voice mail."

"Why don't you just leave a message?" said Harold, his own hair almost completely blue save for some streaks around the ears and over his eyes. "They must be swamped."

"I guess I'm going to have to."

"And, really, we should be talking to Bob like we agreed last night."

Sarah whirled around. "Right now I'm more worried about Laura. I've never seen her so distraught in a long while."

Laura sat at the table nursing a cup of tea, still in her nightgown. "I'm really sorry for my meltdown earlier, Mom. I'm okay now."

Harold looked down. "Are you comfortable sitting down with, um ..."

"My tail?" Laura said in a sour voice. "The hair is soft and not very long." She frowned. "Yet."

"I got through!" Sarah cried. "Yes, hello, Heather, this is Mrs. Sarah Tanner. This is about my daughter, Laura. There's been another development. She ..." Sarah glanced at her daughter and swallowed hard. "Sh-she has a tail. A tail. Yes, as in hair sticking out of her rear." Sarah rolled her eyes. "No, dammit, I wouldn't be this upset if it was just hair sprouting anywhere back there. It. Is. A. Tail."

Laura groaned and lowered her head. Harold placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed just as Jenny started down the stairs. Her hair was pink in the back, and she hesitated at the bottom of the stairs when her mother spoke again.

"Her eye color also changed the day before. Is there any way Doctor Conner can squeeze her in today?" Sarah sighed. "Hang on." She dropped the phone to her side. "Heather said they're completely booked into next week. What the hell? When was the last time that happened?"

"During the flu outbreak, maybe?" Harold suggested.

"Oh, don't get started on that," Sarah declared.

Laura stood. "I'll just go to school. I can ... I can hide this in my jeans."

Sarah lifted the phone. "What about squeezing her in at the end of the day? I really don't like the idea of sending her to school with this ... this condition, but she could stop in after classes."

Harold stared. "Um, Laura? Could you stand up straight for a moment?"

Laura gave him a puzzled look. "Huh? I am standing straight. Why?"

Harold hesitated, then shook his head. "Never mind, I must be imagining things."

"She's gotten shorter," said Jenny.

Sarah turned her head. "She what? Um, what was that, Heather?" She gritted her teeth. "Yes, I'll hold."

Laura turned as her sister approached. Jenny stood up straight and held a hand flat over her head. She slid it forward, where it was level with Laura's eyes. "I think I was coming up to her nose before."

"That's ridiculous," Harold said. "People don't just shrink in height."

Bob came down the stairs. "They don't get tails, either."

Harold sighed. "Point made, sport."

Bob reached the bottom and averted his eyes. "Sorry."

Harold shook his head. "It's okay. Listen, I want to talk to you about something."

"Harry!" Sarah snapped. "You want to do this now?"

"Sarah, at this point, if we wait for a day when we don't have a crisis, we'll be waiting forever."

"But I wanted to be there when--" She snapped her gaze away when she came off hold. "Yes? My God, you don't know how glad I am to hear your voice, Doctor Conner."

"I am shorter, aren't I?" Laura said in a quavering voice. She let her arms fall to her sides. "See? My nightgown doesn't fit anymore."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Doctor Conner, she's ... shrunk. As in lost about an inch of height."

Laura glanced at Jenny. "Go ahead, already."

"Huh?" Jenny said. "Go ahead with what?"

"With whatever nonsense you're going to spout about the Fae Queen or whatever."

"It's fun poking you a bit," said Jenny in a subdued voice. "It's not fun seeing you cry."

Laura stared. "What ... I ... but I thought ...?"

Jenny looked perplexed. "Thought what?"

Laura shook her head. "Never mind, it's not important."

"Thank you," Sarah gushed. "Yes, that will work. We'll be expecting you." She turned to Harold. "His office actually doesn't open for another hour. He wants to see Laura, so he's going to make a house call. He'll be here in about twenty minutes."

"Shouldn't you be more worried about Laura than me?" said Bob as he stepped into Harold's office.

Harold closed the door behind them. "She's got her mother doting over her. You're just as much a member of this family as she is. You deserve as much concern."

Bob averted his gaze.

"Unless you don't believe that," said Harold gently.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

"I know what it was you heard the other night," said Harold.

Bob glanced at him but said nothing.

"You have every right to be angry with us."

"I do?" Bob asked in a dubious voice. "Weren't you just telling each other the truth?"

"Bob, it's more complicated than that."

"No, it isn't," Bob said. "A statement is either true or false."

"All right then," said Harold. "You want the truth? This family is hurting financially."

"I know," said Bob in a low voice. "I think the girls know, too, but they just don't want to think about it too hard, and they have their own problems now."

"And what Sarah and I said to each other--" Harold paused and rubbed the back of his neck. He frowned as he found his own hair had grown longer as well. "--we didn't mean it in the way it was intended. We sometimes have a bad habit of saying dumb things to each other in the heat of the moment."

Bob uttered an exasperated sigh. "Fine." He marched for the door. "Can I go now?"

"Not yet."

Bob stopped and turned around. "Why not?"

Harold stepped up to him. "Because I don't think you understand."

"I do understand," Bob said. "You implied I was the cause of your financial mess, but that's not what you really meant. I get it."

Harold stared at Bob for a moment. "Something else is going on, isn't there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bob, why did you start calling me 'Dad'?"

Bob stared. "Are you serious?"

"Humor me, please."

"Well ... I'm supposed to. I mean ... you like it when I call you that, right?"

Harold smiled. "Yes, I do. I was happy when you started calling me that a few years ago."

Bob nodded. "Well, see?"

"But did you really mean it?"

Bob looked askance at him. "I'm sorry?"

"You didn't have to call me that," Harold said. "I would've been content with you continuing to refer to me as Uncle Harry. What you call me doesn't change how I feel about you."

Bob averted his eyes and drew in his arms.

"Let me ask the question this way," said Harold. "Did you do it because you knew it would please me?"

Bob hesitated. "Yes."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "You didn't have to do that."

"I felt I did."

"Why?"

"I didn't want you to be disappointed."

Harold tilted his head. "Disappointed?"

Bob finally looked him in the eye. "Look, um ... I really do appreciate everything you and Aunt Sarah have done for me. You don't have anything to prove to me."

Harold hesitated before replying, "Who said that I ever did?"

Bob paused and glanced at the desk where the returned letter sat. "Maybe you don't," he said in a low voice. "Forget I said that. Can we talk about this more some other time? Right now, I just want to get to school before I'm late."

Harold nodded, paused, then pulled Bob into a brief hug before letting him go. "All right."

Bob gave him a weak smile in return before heading out.

"Laura, you're going to feel a tug," said Kevin as he grasped some of the hairs of Laura's tail. "Tell me if this hurts at all."

Laura stood with her back to the doctor, blushing slightly as she held the bottom part of her panties down so that Kevin could better see. She glanced at her mother, who gave her an encouraging look. "All right."

Kevin pulled gently on the hairs.

"No pain," said Laura. "But, well, they're pretty firmly attached, if that's what you were looking for."

"Yes, I can see that." Kevin pressed his fingers against a spot right above where the hairs emerged. "Do you feel any pain here?"

"I did," said Laura. "All day yesterday, it ached right there, but not now."

"And you didn't tell me?" asked Sarah.

Laura sighed. "I didn't think this would happen. I was planning on going to Doctor Conner if it didn't go away."

Kevin drew back and took another look at the tail as a whole. It emerged from the end of the very structure that once hosted such a thing in the distant evolutionary past. He grabbed a ruler from his bag and measured. "It's about five inches long."

"I was sure it was four inches when I first saw it," Laura said.

"But how could it have grown that much in just a half hour?" Sarah said. "Or for that matter, how could that much hair sprout overnight to begin with?"

"Your hair did the same thing, Mom," Laura said. "It wasn't nearly as long last night."

Kevin put his ruler away. "Laura, you can dress now."

Laura yanked her panties up as Kevin stood. She slipped on her nightgown and turned to face him. "Should I try to cut the hair off?"

"Since it appears to be comprised of only hair, it wouldn't hurt you to do so," said Kevin. "But if it is indeed growing that fast, I have a feeling it will just come back." He took out a small flashlight. "Let me take a look at your eyes."

Laura stood still as he flicked the light into her eyes to test her pupil response. He had her look to one side and the other. "I'm not seeing any evidence of infection. Any itching or burning? Discharge? Blurred vision?"

"They itched a bit the night before they changed color," said Laura. "But that stopped, and I don't have any of the other symptoms."

He drew back and slipped off his glasses. "I'm going to be honest here. I don't have any answers for you right now. This doesn't match any known pattern of symptoms. Yes, there are known afflictions that can lead to eye color changes, but you have none of the other symptoms associated with them. There are also conditions that cause overgrowth of body hair, but nothing like this."

"And my height?" Laura asked.

"That's a mystery to me as well."

Sarah stepped up to him, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. "Doctor, normally I appreciate your honesty, but I'm getting a little scared right now."

"You're scared?" Laura said. "It's like I'm turning into something, but I don't know what!"

"Normally, I would consider admitting you to the hospital," said Kevin. "But I talked to them on the way over here. They're as much in the dark about this as well, and they're so swamped right now that it's emergencies only." Kevin turned to Laura. "Do you have any other symptoms?"

"I have a slight buzzing in my ears." She twisted her torso a bit. "And my upper back aches a bit."

Kevin dropped his bag on the edge of the bed and took out his ear scope. "The ache may be from your loss of height. How long have you had the tinnitus?"

She turned her head to give her access to her ear. "It just started this morning."

"Any discharge or dizziness?"

"No, none."

Kevin checked one ear, than the other. "Everything looks normal."

"But they don't feel normal! Something is going to happen to them next, isn't it?"

"I'm sensing that you believe it will," said Kevin. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Laura swallowed hard, her eyes flicking first to her mother, then back to Kevin. "It's going to sound stupid."

"Laura, whatever it is, I insist you tell him," Sarah declared. "Please, if he really is flying blind, he can use all the help he can get."

Laura nodded quickly. "It's something Jenny told me. My little sister and her friend trespassed on old man ... er, Fred Turner's property. Jenny said she saw him." Laura's voice quavered. "She said he wasn't all that tall, and had peach-colored hair."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"But what's really weirding me out is what she said about his ears. She thought he was wearing some sort of a-animal ears on top of his head."

"What do you mean?" Sarah said.

"Just what I said!" Laura exclaimed. "Jenny was sure it was some sort of costume. That's what I wanted to believe, too, but now I got this stupid tail. What if Turner's ears were real? What if that's going to happen to me next?"

"All right, let's not panic," said Kevin in a firm voice. "Is Jenny still here?"

"No, I sent her off to school," said Sarah.

"Laura, do you know how good a look she had at him?" asked Kevin.

"Not really. They were running at the time," said Laura.

"The worst thing we can do right now is jump to conclusions," said Kevin. "If it helps any, Fred Turner's daughter is on her way and will arrive sometime today. She's intending to bring him in to see me tomorrow. I'll have a first-hand look at him."

"Can you let us know what you find out?" asked Sarah.

Kevin was normally bound by patient privacy laws, but this was a most abnormal situation. "Let me see what I can do. I also intend to contact the Colorado Department of Health as soon as I get back to my office. Mrs. Tanner, you can help me in that endeavor by telling me when each of you in your family came down with the flu and when the first odd symptoms showed up."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Do you really think the flu did this?"

"It's a working theory at the moment," said Kevin. "I had only just finished correlating the data for my other patients late last night."

"All right, let me go get paper and a pen to jot it down for you," said Sarah as she headed for the door.

Laura turned to Kevin. "There's one more thing. I think Fred Turner had the flu before any of us."

Kevin gave her an inquisitive look. "Why do you say that?"

"It was about three weeks ago when he showed up in a grocery store looking really sick," said Laura. "I thought I had stayed far enough away from him, but I came down with the flu days later. I know of at least a few other people who got it right after me."

"Thank you, Laura," said Kevin. "That is likely the most useful bit of information I have received thus far."

Jenny burst out of the school bus, but her initial attempt at running nearly ended in a spill to the ground. The several inches of wet spring snow that had fallen overnight had been packed down to ice by both wheel and foot. She muttered a curse as she picked her way across the lot, then belted out at the top of her lungs, "JAMES, WAIT UP!"

At the foot of the stairs leading up to the entrance of the school, James spun around. Like many other students, he had given up trying to hide his discolored hair. "Jenny, I'm going to be late for class!"

"I really really need to talk to you," said Jenny. "This is urgent."

James sighed. "If this is about your latest story--"

Jenny ran the rest of the way. She yelped as her right foot slid out from under her when she tried to stop. James grabbed her arms and prevented a fall. "No, it has nothing to do with that." She glanced at his hands. "Um, thanks."

"Sure thing," said James with a small smile.

"You can let go of me now."

James cleared his throat and dropped his hands. "Right."

Jenny smiled faintly, but it vanished as she stared at his face. "Your eyes!"

"Yeah, I know," James said in a low voice. What had once been dark brown were now cobalt blue.

Jenny slowly smiled. "If it helps any, it sorta goes with the hair."

James rolled his eyes but smirked. "Thanks. Yeah, it was this way when I woke up."

Jenny clutched the strap of her satchel tighter. "Then I definitely need to talk to you. I want to, well, warn you, I guess."

"Warn me? About what?"

"My sister. She has a tail."

James stared. "No way."

"I saw it myself. It's just as curly and orange as the hair on her head. When I left the house, the doctor was on his way." Jenny paused. "And it happened a day after her eyes changed color."

"What, you mean I'm going to get one next?" James said.

"I-I don't know. All I know is what happened to Laura, but it's happening to you, too, in the same sequence. I mean, look!" She spun around. "Look at my hair. It's halfway to total pinkdom." She whirled around to face him again. "You're not the only one this is happening to."

"Jenny?" James said in a wary voice. "Do you remember what you told me about Turner when you looked at him?"

Jenny bit her lip. "Yeah?"

"What if ... what if those ears you said he had were--"

"No way," Jenny declared. "It had to be a costume."

"But what if it isn't?"

Jenny took a deep breath. "Look, the colored hair and eyes, I can roll with. Even if I get a damned tail, I could have some fun with it. But the ears? That's just too out there even for me. Especially considering what they reminded me of."

"Of what?"

Jenny hesitated. "They kinda looked like horse ears."

Chapter 10 - A Sun Rises And Sets

Twilight's hooves echo slightly as they trod upon the silent streets of Ponyville. She smiles as she lifts her head and gazes at the stars that sparkle like diamonds on velvet in the night sky. The moon casts a beautiful silvery radiance, softly illuminating her path. She loves nights like this, with just a hint of a cool breeze and the gentle quiet.

In the distance, a large tree appears. When she sees the lights which glow from it, she realizes with delight that it is no mere tree.

"It's my old library!" Twilight gallops to it like a foal on Hearths Warming Eve towards the waiting presents. With a broad smile, she opens the door with a nudge of magic and steps inside. Everything is exactly as it was before Tirek destroyed it.

"I wonder how this happened," Twilight says in wonder. "It even has all the books I remember. I can't wait to tell Spike!"

She starts to pull a book from a shelf when she hears a slide of hoof across wood. "Oh! Somepony is here."

Twilight steps towards one of the reading nooks that surround the main room. She trots around a corner and stops short with a small gasp.

Princess Luna looks up from her book and smiles. "Good evening, Twilight."

"I'm so happy that you're the first one to find the library," Twilight gushes. "Isn't this wonderful! Can you tell me how this happened?"

Luna sets aside the book and stands. "I can. This is a dream, Twilight."

Twilight's smile fades. "Oh." She looks around. "Well, that's too bad. At least it's a pleasant dream."

Luna approachers her. "Please, Twilight, would you walk with me?"

"Of course."

"I admit, I conjured this dream on purpose," says Luna as they step into the night. "I wished a calm atmosphere in which to confer with you since I didn't receive any further word from you after my note."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to take the chance Celestia would intercept it."

Luna lowers her head. "It is terrible that is has come to this, that we must engage in such subterfuge against one who has been nothing but a benevolent ruler towards her ponies."

"I know," Twilight says. "But I'm holding out hope that she has a very good reason for what she did, even if ..." She swallows. "Even if I could easily hate her for what she's done."

Luna raises her gaze to Twilight's. "What has she done to earn such enmity from even you?"

Twilight frowns. "She made somepony from my family disappear not only from history, but from ponies' minds."

Luna stares in shock. "Is ... is that even possible?"

"It is when you use dark magic."

"This is one time, Twilight, where I hope you are dead wrong."

"I wish I were," says Twilight. "I touched the dark magic spell myself, Luna. It's imbued into the pages of her journal. She corrupted even her own DIARY to hide this!"

Luna is silent for a few moments, "Do you have any idea what this pony could have done to warrant such treatment?"

"I have no idea," says Twilight. "All I have is a name: Sunset Shimmer."

Luna abruptly stops and turns towards Twilight. "That name ... are you sure?"

Twilight's eyes widen. "Yes! Have you heard it? Oh, please tell me you have!"

"I have," Luna says in a soft voice, her eyes glistening. "In your grandparents' dreams."

"Sunset Glow and Shimmering Light?"

"Yes."

"Those are the ponies I theorized are her parents!"

"I am curious," says Luna. "What led you in that direction? True, Canterlot traditions as they are would suggest they could name a foal as such, but Equestria is a big place."

"Yes, I know," says Twilight in a low voice. "In retrospect, it seems odd I would jump right to that conclusion. But if the spell was weakened by my prodding, perhaps that was some of my own suppressed memories finding a way to slip out. But, please, Luna, tell me of their dreams if you can."

Luna lowers her gaze. "Their dreams are ... so very sad."

"Well, of course! If they've been made to forget that--"

"No," says Luna. "For the daughter they WISHED they had."

Twilight shivers. "Then this affects their dreams as well."

"My sister would not banish a pony to obscurity unless she believed that pony did something heinous. Forgive me for the implied disparagement of a family member, Twilight."

"It's fine," Twilight says. "You're not saying anything I haven't already thought of."

"If this is true, then your grandparents could instead be dreaming of how they wished their daughter had turned out. Every dream starts off so very happy, with their precious Sunset making them very proud. She goes off to seek her final fortune, and then ..." Luna takes a deep breath. "They are informed she is dead."

"Of what?"

"It is never revealed. In their wailing sorrow, they realize they have been fooling themselves, and they never really had a daughter. Even I cannot comfort them."

Twilight's mind races. "Luna, you can connect dreams, right?"

"Yes, I can. Why do you ask?"

"If either of them starts dreaming tonight, can you link me into it?"

Luna's eyes widen. "Twilight, I must insist on knowing what you intend to do."

"This dark magic spell is too complex for me to break in one go," says Twilight. "I have to weaken it. I already managed it by making my father briefly remember he really had a sister. If I can get her parents resisting it, too--"

Luna frowns. "What you intend to do, Twilight Sparkle, is very dangerous. If there is any chance you're wrong, you could traumatize them, make them believe things that are not true."

Twilight takes a deep breath. "Nothing is safe about this, Luna, no matter what route I take to fight it."

Luna pauses a moment before saying, "All right, I will do it."

A pale red unicorn mare with a dark orange mane turns from the stove, a pan of eggs held in her magical grip. "Sunset, dear! Come down to breakfast."

"In a minute, Mommy!" comes a cry from upstairs. "I almost got this spell working!"

Sunset Glow sighs but smiles and shakes her head. At the table, a blue unicorn stallion with a dark cyan mane lowers his newspaper and chuckles. "Oh, she's your daughter through and through, you know," says Shimmering Light.

Glow sticks her tongue out at her husband before calling out again, "That's nice, Sunset, but you don't want your eggs to get cold, do you?"

"Oh, all right," says the voice in defeat.

Just outside the perception of the family gathering, Luna and Twilight approach. "The dream has already started," says Luna. "My apologies for not linking you in sooner, but all you missed was Sunset's birth."

"It's all right." Twilight looks towards the table again and jabs a hoof. "Look! Sitting at the other side of the table!"

A light blue unicorn colt, about ten years old, hums to himself and uses his magic to draw on a piece of paper.

"That's my father," says Twilight. She giggles. "I have to admit, he does look adorable as a foal."

Luna smiles.

The next moment, a yellow-and-red bundle of energy with hooves and a horn comes barreling into the room. The little yellow five-year-old unicorn filly skids to an ungainly stop, her red and yellow mane flopping over an eye. "Mommy! Mommy! I'm soooo close! I'm gonna have this spell done in no time after breakfast."

Twilight stares. "That must be her ..."

Glow smiles. "You mean after school."

Sunset Shimmer pouts and drops to her haunches. She tries to blow her mane out of her eyes, but it just falls back again. "Aw, do I hafta? I wanna finish this spell!"

"Wow," Twilight breathes. "She's so young, and she can already craft spells?"

Luna chuckles. "I seem to recall Celestia telling me of a certain filly who was quite accomplished as well at an early age."

Twilight blushes. "Well, I suppose this just proves it runs in the family."

"Now, sit down, Sunset, so I can serve breakfast," says Glow.

Sunset smirks. "But I am sitting."

"You know what I mean, dear," Glow says in a patient voice.

Night Light looks up. "Yeah, Sunny, I wanna eat, too, I'm starved."

Twilight's eyes widen. "My father ... she called her Sunny ..."

Shimmering sets aside his paper and smiles as Sunset hops into her chair. "And how's my little princess this morning?"

Sunset giggles. "Daddy, stop being silly! Princesses have a horn AND wings!"

Night readies a blank page in his art notebook. "I'll draw ya some wings, Sunny. You'll be a princess in no time!"

"Breakfast first, wings later," Glow says gently as she serves breakfast.

"Make 'em biiig wings!" Sunset says. "Like Princess Celestia's wings!"

Shimmering grins and taps his chin with a hoof. "Hmm, not sure if you should do that. Might get in trouble. Princess Celestia always has the Royal Guard out looking for Celestia-impersonators."

Night's pupils shrink. "R-really?"

Sunset laughs. "Oh, Nighty, you're so gullible sometimes!"

Night blushes.

"Now, honey, be nice to your brother," says Glow.

The scene wavers and dissolves, and Luna and Twilight now find themselves looking into what appears to be a magic lab. Yet when Twilight looks around, she sees a window high on one wall, and a furnace tucked in the back. Her eyes widen as she sees a now ten year old Sunset standing before a set of glass tubes, vials, and flasks arranged in one large array.

"She had her own LAB?!" Twilight cries. "In her HOUSE?! Even I never had that!"

"Now, please observe," says Sunset, her muzzle elevated, looking as if she is already an instructor teaching a class. She does indeed have an audience, namely her parents. "I am about to complete the experiment I have been working on for the last four months."

Glow smiles. "I'm really excited about this, Sunset."

"We both are!" says Shimmering. "Please, do go ahead."

Sunset beams at the praise and begins opening valves with her magic, letting chemicals flow into each other. They pass over magical flames of different colors burning at specific locations along the fluids' paths, then through crystals that alternately compress and expand the fluids, which glow more intensely as they traverse their circuitous path.

Twilight blinks. "I have no idea what she's doing."

"Realize that if these are indeed memories as you theorize," says Luna. "Her parents might not have the technical details right."

"But still, I should have some idea what she's trying to accomplish."

The chemicals come together in a glass sphere at the top of the array. Sunset casually turns to it as they start to froth and roil. "And now, the spell to finish it!"

Sunset's horn blazes. The beam strikes the sphere, and the chemicals within seem almost to fold in on themselves before exploding into a blinding light. The glass shatters, but this is expected, given how quickly and casually Sunset raises a shield to protect her and her parents. The light remains suspended in the air like a miniature sun, yellow and red energy roiling within.

"This can't be right," says Twilight. "It looks like she just created some sort of dense magical plasma, the same kind that's theorized to make the sun glow!"

"This is why I always assumed these were dreams of a daughter who never was," Luna says.

"But if this is true, this is a breakthrough!" Twilight cries. "She found a way to actually generate magical plasma by concentrating energy at a single point! There are SO many applications for--!"

"Oh, Sunset, I'm so proud of you!" Glow suddenly cries.

"Great Celestia, this is wonderful!" Shimmering declares.

Sunset's smile becomes a touch smug. "Yes, I know, this is such an accomplishment."

Glow's eyes fill with tears. "I don't mean that!"

"Sunny, l-look at your flank!" says Shimmering.

Sunset's eyes widen, and she cranes her neck. There upon her flank is the symbol of a yellow and red sun, looking very much like her creation.

Her parents surge forward and hug Sunset tightly. Sunset hugs them back, her smile now a mixture of happiness and self-satisfaction, even as the light from her miniature sun starts to fade.

"She got her cutie mark in a similar way I did, by doing a feat of magic," Twilight says in a quavering voice. "We would've had so much in common."

The scene again shifts. Sunset is in her room, packing, a smile gracing her muzzle. She is twelve or thirteen, her horn glowing as she moves her things about with practiced ease. She turns her head as hoofsteps stop at her door. Her smile widens. "Nighty! You're here!"

Night Light stands at the door, smiling broadly. "Think I would miss giving my sis a send-off?"

Sunset gives him a hug as he steps into the room. Behind him stand their parents who are smiling as well, but Glow's eyes mist. She lets out a quavering breath. "I'm really going to miss you, Sunset."

Sunset smiles at her. "Aw, come on, Mom, I'm still going to be in Canterlot."

"Yes, but you'll be in the palace. I'm not sure--"

Night chuckles. "You don't seriously think Princess Celestia is going to keep us all away from Sunny? I mean, she's the Princess' student, not a prisoner."

"WHAT?!" Twilight explodes. "Sunset Shimmer was Celestia's STUDENT?!"

"Yes, I know," says Luna. "This makes your revelations all the more troubling."

"Celestia had a student this incredibly talented, and she wiped all memory of her? This makes no sense!"

"Are you just about packed?" Shimmering says. "I know it's not far to the palace, but we wanted to trot over there with you."

Sunset places the last items into her saddlebags and is about to close them when she smiles at Night. "I have one more thing to pack." She turns her head towards a dresser and opens a drawer with her magic. She levitates out a set of paper wings.

Night gasps. "Those are the wings I made for you when you were little."

Sunset smiles and turns back towards him. She lays them carefully on her back. "They, um, don't quite fit as much as they used to but--"

Her words are cut off when Night hugs her fiercely. "I c-can't believe you kept them all this time," he says in a shaky voice.

Sunset rolls her eyes but chuckles. "Now don't get all sappy on me, Night."

"I'm your brother, I'll get as sappy as I please, Sunny."

"Th-that's my Dad all right," Twilight says. "H-he said the same thing to me on my send-off. 'I'll get as sappy as I please, Twily.'"

Sunset smiles as she draws back from the embrace. She levitates the wings carefully from her back and delicately folds them. "Who knows? Maybe they'll serve as inspiration." She tucks them into a notebook and closes her bags before levitating them onto her barrel. "I'm ready."

"Good luck, Sunset," says Glow.

"We're so very proud of you," says Shimmering.

"Just try not to burn down the palace, okay?" says Night.

Sunset smirks. "I'll do my best, but no promises."

The scene starts to fade as the family shares one last hug. "If this proceeds as it normally does, there will be one more scene before the end," Luna says in a solemn voice.

They peer into a room that Twilight knows all too well. It is the very same room where she and Celestia shared so many meals together, sometimes with Twilight's family in attendance. Despite containing the trappings of royalty, the room has a casual atmosphere that made Twilight feel more comfortable in her mentor's presence.

Twilight gazes upon a pony who seems to need no such solace. Sunset Shimmer, now at least 18 years old, radiates a confidence in the presence of Celestia that Twilight could have only hoped for.

Next to Sunset, Celestia gazes across the table and smiles fondly at Sunset's family. "It is always an honor to host my student's family. Thank you for coming."

"Really, Princess, it's we who are honored," says Shimmering.

Glow smiles. "We're just so happy to see Sunset flourishing so well here."

Celestia's smile widens. "You have every reason to be proud of your daughter. She has not only been one of my most capable students, she has grown into a confident young mare."

Celestia had said the very same thing about Twilight once, and Twilight had demurred furiously. Instead, Sunset remains quiet and drinks in the praise, her smile widening a touch. In every way, Sunset is the perfect daughter: smart, strong, confident, and with virtually limitless possibilities lying at her hooves.

"But may I ask where Night Light is?" says Celestia.

"Oh, well, he's, ah, otherwise occupied, Princess," says Shimmering.

Sunset leans over to Celestia. "That means he's off making puppy dog eyes at his marefriend Twilight Velvet."

"Sunset!" Glow cries, blushing.

"Well, it's true," says Sunset.

"Yes, but ... a little discretion, dear," says Shimmering.

Celestia laughs, and Twilight adds another attribute to the perfect daughter: witty.

Luna steps alongside Twilight. "Prepare yourself. The mood is about to change abruptly."

Suddenly, the scene morphs. Celestia, Glow, and Shimmering seem not to move while the world around them becomes so shockingly different that Twilight gasps. They stand inside Glow and Shimmering's home, but Sunset is nowhere to be seen. It is nighttime, and rain pounds against the windows. The lights are on but illuminate only a short radius from their flickering flames. Glow and Shimmering are stricken, staring at Celestia, who stands in the door with rain running off her body.

"It can't be," Glow says, tears trickling down her face. "No ... n-not Sunset ..."

"Please, Princess!" Shimmering wails. "Please tell us you're mistaken!"

Celestia looks on with glistening eyes that seem to be on the verge of tears themselves. "I wish it were not true."

"OUR DAUGHTER CAN'T BE DEAD!" Glow screams.

Twilight swallows hard, letting out her breath as a ragged sigh. She remembers the fight with Tirek, the one and only enemy to whom she truly worried she could lose her life. The very idea of Celestia having to go to her parents and give them this horrible news ...

Celestia squeezes her eyes shut and turns away. "I am very sorry. More than you will ever know."

Luna steps forward. "Get ready, Twilight," she says as her eyes start to glow.

Twilight almost doesn't hear her. She feels as if her own heart has been gutted just as badly as those of Sunset's parents, who now huddle together and weep openly after Celestia leaves.

"Sh-shimmering ..." Glow says in a choked voice. "This can't be happening."

"Y-you heard the Princess," Shimmering says as he wipes his eyes with the back of a hoof. "She's gone. Oh, heavens, she's gone! What are we ever going to tell Night?!"

"Sunset Glow is the first to deny this tragedy," Luna says as she slides a hoof forward. Her horn and eyes blaze as she lifts her hoof, opening a tear before her. "This is her dream."

Glow bolts to her hooves. "NO! I won't accept this! I ... no, this is not real."

Shimmering looks up and tries to blink away tears. "What are you talking about?"

Luna opens the tear fully. "Go, Twilight!"

Twilight surges forward.

"We never had a daughter!" Glow cries. "We tried and tried and tried and never--"

"You're wrong!" Twilight shouts.

Glow whirls around and nearly falls off her hooves in shock. Shimmering is swallowed up by the darkness and vanishes. "Who--?? What are ... w-wait ... Twilight?"

"Yes, it's me, your granddaughter," says Twilight.

"But what are you doing here?"

"Trying to uncover the truth," says Twilight. "And the truth is that you had a daughter named Sunset Shimmer!"

Glow shakes her head, tears flowing again. "No, I-I didn't ... I couldn't have!"

Twilight sighs. "I know, losing her was hard, but--"

"I can't lose what I never had!" Glow wails.

"--but what if she may still be alive somewhere?!"

Twilight has no idea if this is true. She feels sick for even giving such potentially false hope, but she needs every weapon in her arsenal to fight this dark magic.

Glow stares at Twilight for a long moment. "But ... Princess Celestia said ... she wouldn't lie to us. Why would she lie to us?"

"Twilight, hurry!" Luna says. "I sense the dream coming to an end!"

"I don't have time to explain," Twilight says. "You have to fight this! You--"

"Why did she lie to us?!" Glow demands.

"Please! Listen to me! You've been made to forget! You have to hold on to--!"

"WHY DID SUNSET LIE TO US?!"

"I don't--" Twilight stares, eyes wide. "Wh-what did you just say?? What do you mean? What did Sunset--"

Glow and the house vanish. Twilight stands upon a starry expanse in a dark blue sky. "What happened?"

Luna sighs and steps forward. "She has woken up from her dream."

Twilight falls back on her haunches and hangs her head. "Likely crying or screaming."

"That is the chance we take when we attempt to manipulate dreams, Twilight," says Luna in a heavy voice.

"I'm so sorry for her," says Twilight. "But I'm not sorry I did it. I think I got through to her, Luna. Something really bad happened concerning Sunset Shimmer." She draws herself up and turns to face Luna. "And I'm going to find out what it is."

"In the end, I hope Celestia will be grateful."

Twilight frowns. "I'm not doing this for her. I'm doing it for Sunset. I don't care what she did, she doesn't deserve to be forgotten."

Sunset Glow stared morosely at her tea cup, the contents of which had gone cold some time ago. Her mane was an unkempt mess, and the skin under her eyes sagged. She propped her head up with a fore-hoof.

From across the table, Shimmering Light gave her a troubled look. He had no idea what to say. They had resigned themselves to this occasional repeating nightmare, as it proceeded with such regularity that they had inured themselves to it. That uneasy acceptance had been shattered in the middle of the night.

"Dear?" Shimmering finally prompted in a soft voice.

Glow heaved a sigh. "What is it?" she said without raising her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it some more?"

Glow leveled her gaze at her husband. "What more is there to say, Shimmy?"

"What about Twilight Sparkle?"

Glow frowned. "What about her?"

"What if she really was in your dream?"

Glow stared as if he had grown a second horn. "What?"

Shimmering glanced to the side. "Well, I just thought--"

"How can you even suggest that?!" Glow exploded. "Do you know what that means?!"

Shimmering swallowed and met his wife's eyes. "That we really do have a daughter."

"Did," Glow said. "Did have a daughter. Except we never did. Both can't be true at the same time."

"But what if--?"

Glow thumped her hoof on the table, knocking over her teacup and spilling cold tea. "Do you really want to believe we sired a daughter who's dead? The disappointment over never conceiving one in the first place was bad enough, you want to make it worse!"

"You told me yourself Twilight said she could still be alive," said Shimmering.

Glow's turned her head to grab a cleaning cloth with her magic. She started mopping up the mess. "An image in my head of Twilight said that, Shimmy," said Glow in a softer voice. "It was just my own wishful thinking. We agreed from the start that was the cause of these stupid dreams. We accepted a long time ago that we would never have another foal. Why do you want to dredge this up again?"

Shimmering usually deferred to his wife when she was this adamant. Instead, he rubbed his mane with a hoof and turned to Glow again. "I'm really sorry, dear, it's just something about this feels off somehow."

Glow tilted her head as she set the cloth aside. "What do you mean?"

"Well, haven't you ever questioned why that dream was so predictable? Why it never varied?"

"That's not for us to ponder. That's ... that's for somepony like Princess Luna to--"

"Except she never did!" Shimmering said. "She was never able to alter it. She's supposed to help ponies with their nightmares. Why was she never able to help us?"

Glow uttered an exasperated sigh. "I really don't want to hear this. I just want to forget this ever--"

The doorbell chimed.

Glow groaned and lowered her head. "Will you get that, please? I must look a fright."

Shimmering smiled faintly and hopped off his chair. He gave his wife a kiss on the head before heading out of the room.

Glow shivered as she recalled how she had abruptly awoken from that dream, calling out the name of a pony who should not exist, despairing not just for her passing but what she had done, even if she could not remember what it had been.

She heard her husband express surprise, then heard muffled conversation. Her ears perked up when she realized who Shimmering was talking to. "Nighty??"

A weary Night Light slowly trudged into the kitchen, his tail tucked between his hind legs, his ears drooping. He gave Glow a faint smile. "H-hi, Mom."

"As glad as I am to see you, what are you doing here this early?" said Glow.

Night looked uncertain, and he glanced at his father.

"Go on, son," said Shimmering. "Tell her."

Glow's eyes widened. "Tell me what?" she said in a wary voice.

"I, um, I've come to talk to you about something." He took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. "About Sunny."

Glow's lower lip trembled.

"You see, yesterday, um, my daughter Twilight came to visit me, along with her friend Starlight Glimmer."

Glow swallowed hard, her eyes glistening.

"She said ... she insisted ... that Sunny m-may be real. That I really had a sister. That--" Night raised his head and gasped. "Mom! You okay?"

Glow had squeezed her eyes shut, and tears dripped to the table. Shimmering rushed to her side and threw a fore-leg around her, drawing her close.

"Mom, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," said Night.

Glow shook her head and took a deep breath before opening her eyes. "No, Nighty, don't apologize. Your mother is just a foolish old mare sometimes. Shimmy, please, get me a tissue. I don't trust my magic to remain steady."

"Sure thing, dear," said Shimmering as he parted from her.

"You are not a foolish old mare, Mom," Night said softly as he took a seat at the table. "But I do want to know what happened that has you so upset."

"Let's just say I had a dream about ... a-about Sunny, and Twilight was in it." She paused a long moment. "As in I think she visited me."

Night nodded. "In the middle of her visit with us, she received a personal letter from Princess Luna. They must be working together. And if that's the case, Mom, we really need to talk."

Glow nodded as Shimmering returned with some tissues which he gently placed beside her. "Yes, we do."

An uneasy silence settled over the Council Room after Twilight finished her explanation of what had happened over the past few days. Applejack was the first to break the silence. "I jus' don't get it. This ain't like Princess Celestia at all."

Rainbow Dash dropped her fore-hooves to the table. "That's what I think! Twilight, you sure she isn't having her head messed up by that spell you said Starlight found in her diary?"

Twilight sighed. "I wish that were the case, Rainbow, but all signs point to Celestia being the one who cast it."

"But, dear, the dark magic!" said Rarity. "Surely she could not have--"

"She's the only one who was capable of it at the time," said Twilight. "The only pony in all of Equestria who had the ability to channel this much power."

"I don't like this," said Fluttershy. "It means anypony who forgot Sunset Shimmer has been touched by the same dark magic."

Twilight frowned. "I know. That includes my grandparents, my parents, my brother, Cadance, even me!" She left her chair and turned to Starlight. "Get the book, please."

Starlight nodded and cantered towards the door.

Pinkie smiled. "If it helps any, Twilight, you don't seem all dark and icky like Sombra was."

Twilight smiled faintly. "It doesn't quite work that way, but, thank you."

"Ya mean ya don't have no actual dark magic in yer head?" asked Applejack.

"Not quite. I would've sensed that a long time ago if that were the case."

"Well, that's a relief."

"I don't get it," said Rainbow. "Then how did it wipe your memories of Sunset Shimmer?"

Starlight returned, Celestia's diary held in her magic.

"Hold it over the center of the table, please," said Twilight.

"Well, sure," said Starlight. "But what are you going to do?"

"I'll show you in a moment." She turned to Rainbow. "It's very clever how it works. I figured it out this morning. The dark magic spell is anchored to several of Celestia's journals, the ones that chronicle Sunset's time as her student. The effect radiates from there into all documents containing any information on Sunset, and into the minds of anypony who once knew her. So only the effect winds up in ponies' heads and not the dark magic itself. It had to be done that way or the presence of the dark magic in a pony's mind risks corrupting it over time."

Rainbow frowned and folded her fore-legs. "I still don't like the idea of using dark magic to mess with somepony's head."

Twilight approached the table. "Nor do I." Her horn glowed, and where an even crystal surface had been before, a map of the world shimmered into existence as the Cutie Map activated. "This spell needs to be destroyed, but first I need to know how far its effect extends."

Starlight stepped forward, her horn still glowing as she kept the book steadily floating roughly above Canterlot on the map. "How are you going to do that?"

"With a spell I crafted to briefly interface the book with the map."

Pinkie gasped. "But isn't that going to let the icky dark thingies into the map?"

"No, this will largely be only a projection," said Twilight. "Also, right now the spell is straining to keep working properly and doesn't have enough energy to corrupt the map."

Starlight smiled. "You mean your visit to your grandmother's dream worked?"

"I wasn't sure until my father sent me a brief letter just a short time ago," said Twilight. "It's like he and Grandma Glow are starting to remember. They're just shadows of memories right now, but it means the spell has weakened."

"Um, Twilight?" Fluttershy asked tentatively. "A-are you going to need us to help break this spell? Because I'm not sure how we can."

"Darling, I'm afraid I must echo Fluttershy's concerns," said Rarity. "As much as I want to help, this is out of my league."

"No, it isn't!" said Rainbow. "Not if we go all Rainbow Power on somepony's flank!"

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Ya do realize that the flank in question would be Princess Celestia's, right?"

"Not to mention how big her flanks are if she eats as much cake as I hear she does," piped Pinkie.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Let's not worry about those details yet. Now, please, let me concentrate."

Starlight backed up a step as Twilight closed her eyes. When she reopened them after a few seconds, they glowed brilliant green, and dark ichor bubbled over her horn.

Pinkie's eyes widened. "O-kay, now she looks an eensy bit dark and icky."

A collective gasp arose as a black beam of energy erupted from Twilight's horn and enveloped the book. Starlight shivered hard as a sudden deep chill radiated back up the flow of her magic and into her body. For a brief moment, she was sure her blood would freeze solid.

A rivulet of black ichor oozed down from the book and touched the map. It concentrated in a dense blob around Canterlot before tendrils shot out and dotted other towns and cities across Equestria.

"What's goin' on?" Applejack asked.

"I think it's showing where those affected by the spell are right now," said Starlight in a slightly shaky voice. She pointed a hoof. "See? Most are in Canterlot, but some moved away to other--"

"What the hay?!" Rainbow cried. She jabbed a hoof towards a far edge of the map. "Look over there!"

"Oo, let's see!" said Pinkie as she jumped up onto the map.

Rarity's eyes widened. "Pinkie, dear, perhaps that's not the best idea!"

Yet as she trotted across the map, Pinkie unerringly stepped around the globs of ichor until she reached the spot Rainbow indicated, lowering her face until her muzzle almost touched a rather large blob. "I know this place! It's where Dashie and I went to help the griffons and -- aw, where'd it go?"

The black blob had vanished, along with the other black markers on the map. Twilight's beam stopped when she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were back to normal.

"You okay?" Starlight asked as she withdrew the book.

Twilight nodded. "That was nowhere near the power I was channeling last time. But did you see? Even the Griffon Kingdom is affected. They've been made to forget, too."

"Almost," said Rainbow. "Remember what I told you about Gilda's father?"

"Yes, I do," said Twilight. "And I would not be the least bit surprised if that envoy that nopony can remember the name of was Sunset Shimmer."

"Now that we know the extent of this," said Rarity as Pinkie trotted back across the table and hopped into her seat. "Can we come back to Fluttershy's question?"

"Yes, we can. Rainbow Dash was not too far from the truth. Our combined Rainbow Power would be enough to destroy the spell. There's just one problem. We need physical access to all the anchor points of this spell, and that means all of Celestia's journals."

Pinkie smiled. "Oo, does that mean we're gonna be ninjas again like we did that time you went after the time travel spell?"

"Whoa, now hold on a dang minute!" said Applejack. "Ya ain't sayin' we gotta go in an' steal 'em, are ya?"

"That sounds dangerous," Fluttershy murmured.

"Which is why I love it!" Rainbow said.

"Has anypony mebbe thought we could talk ta Princess Celestia first?" Applejack asked.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Oh, right, that'll work. Oh, excuse me, Princess! Can we have your personal diaries so we can reveal the deep dark secret you've been keeping from even your best student?"

Applejack narrowed her eyes. "Ya know that ain't what I meant."

"We've done all the talking we possibly can!" Starlight declared. "She won't listen. She'll just keep brushing it off as nothing to worry about."

"But Twilight was Celestia's student for so many years," said Rarity. "Surely that counts for something."

"Not ta mention we know her entire plan," said Applejack. "How she gonna stand there and still claim she don't know nothin'?"

"Look, Twilight and I already hashed this out," said Starlight. "If the Princess is this desperate to keep her secrets, what's confronting her going to accomplish? We have to take matters into our own hooves. Right, Twilight?"

Twilight remained silent, her gaze lowered.

Starlight stepped towards her. "Um, Twilight?"

"I know we talked about this, Starlight," said Twilight softly. "But I ... maybe ... maybe I'm taking the wrong approach. Maybe I'm being blinded by my anger."

Fluttershy's eyes widened. "Anger?"

Twilight's head snapped up. Her eyes misted even as her lips curled into a frown. "Yes, I'm angry, Fluttershy. Angry that Celestia put me into this position, making me doubt the trust I put in her. The fact that I even thought of having us break into Celestia's private archive to retrieve those spell anchors makes me feel sick."

"I must admit, Twilight," said Rarity. "Going against Princess Celestia does not exactly fill me with elation. I would much prefer another solution."

"I wish I had more time," said Twilight. "The morning after tomorrow, I'm supposed to be on my way to a changeling peace conference. I'm positive that she wants me away so she can renew the dark magic spell without me sensing it. We have to do something before then."

"That's plenty of time ta go have a little heart-ta-heart talk with Princess Celestia," said Applejack.

"I know, but Starlight raised a good point. She's already deferred on this before. I need a way to make it so she can't go back on whatever she says and renew that spell anyway. If there wasn't an unknown and potentially dangerous anomaly in Canterlot, I'd have more options."

"So what are we going to do?" Rainbow asked.

"I don't know yet," said Twilight. "Let me speak with Luna tonight."

Chapter 11 - Spreading the Word

Author's Notes:

I did some editing to chapter 9. The original version of that chapter had introduced a secret government organization. After some critical feedback, I decided to remove that subplot. You don't need to re-read the chapter, just pretend those scenes didn't happen (if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you read the chapter after I made the changes. Trust me, you didn't miss much ...)

Kevin returned to his office with only minutes to spare before he was scheduled to see his first patient, but if he delayed any further, the only opportunity he would have to perform this task would be well into the evening.

Contacting the Colorado Board of Health was not a particularly glamorous activity. Hollywood would have people believe that any physician could instantly get a teleconference with top physicians and government officials. Instead, he had to download a PDF form, fill it out, and fax it in. When he went to the page to remind himself of the procedure and obtain the latest form, a message in red appeared at the top: We are experiencing heavy volume at this time.

As Kevin began filling out the form, Heather entered and dropped a pile of folders on his desk and muttered, "This is going to be a long day."

"Just help me keep the coffee pot full, please," said Kevin.

"You and me both."

Kevin glanced up. "I had noticed you looking a bit tired. Are you all right?"

Heather yawned and stretched her arms above her head. "I had a rough night."

"Worried about this mess?"

"That and my sleep was interrupted by an altercation on my block," said Heather. "Apparently, Laura Tanner is not the only one with a tail. A nine-year-old girl has one. Her father was being accosted by another man demanding he keep that quote tailed freak unquote away from his kids so they don't 'catch' whatever it is she has."

"Oh, fun," Kevin muttered.

"This despite the fact that everyone in the other man's family already has at least the colored hair," Heather muttered. "Anyway, it escalated to a shouting match and then fisticuffs until the cops showed up."

Kevin finished entering the summary of the symptoms into the form before leaning back in his chair and regarding Heather with a concerned look. "Did you see the write-up I did on Laura Tanner?"

Heather hesitated before responding, "Yes, I did."

"Then if you follow through the implications of what her sister observed--"

"I would rather not, but being in denial doesn't help anyone, does it?"

Kevin stroked his beard. "I don't know what to tell my patients anymore. Perhaps I've been contributing to the denial by reassuring them that there's no guarantee they'll get any further symptoms, but I don't want to jump to conclusions myself."

"I think at least one of your patients sitting in the waiting room is here because of his new tail," said Heather. "He won't tell me what's wrong beyond 'hair where it doesn't belong'."

"So that's three people with tails," Kevin said. "We may be forced to assume that's the next stage. Let me finish with this first, and we'll get right to it."

Heather leaned over and peered at his screen. "Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin nodded. "I know this is a long shot, but did any results from the blood work I sent in yesterday come back?"

"Not a single one," said Heather. "The lab is swamped right now."

On the form, he entered info on the lab and the tests that were run against various hair samples so the Department of Health could pull the reports directly. He then added in the general comments section: I have found a positive correlation between these symptoms and those who have recently been infected with influenza. In all cases, the new symptoms started six to ten days after the influenza symptoms subsided. He looked it over one more time and turned his laptop towards Heather. "This look good to you?"

Heather leaned forward, her eyes sliding back and forth. "Yeah, I think that covers it."

Kevin sent the document to the fax machine, only to have it queue up when it initially got a busy signal. He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Now what?"

"I think I have an explanation," said Heather. "I heard a report on the news this morning before I came into the office. There's been a sharp spike in new influenza cases in the US, mostly along the Front Range."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "How bad?"

"About a hundred thousand new cases in the last week," said Heather. "Breckenridge and Silverthorne were hit almost as hard as us. The mayor of Breckenridge wants the ski resort to voluntarily close to reduce further exposure, but they're having none of that, not with as snowy as the spring has been."

"Can't give up that last-minute revenue, can we?" Kevin said in a dry voice.

"Now you see why I'm starting to get a little worried."

On the fourth attempt, the fax machine connected, and the document started transmitting at last. "Anything else for me before we see our first patient?"

"I got a call from Janet Turner," said Heather. "She should be in town within a few hours."

"Still on track for seeing her father tomorrow morning?"

"As far as I can tell," said Heather. "Assuming that she can get him to go."

"From what Laura told him about him, I'd consider making a house call." The fax machine finally declared success, and Kevin stood. "All right, let's go face the day."

Tina slammed her locker shut and rested her forehead against the door. "Way to bring down my mood, Laura."

"What are you talking about?" Laura said in a cross voice. "I'm the one with the ... you know ... not you."

Tina lifted her head and turned towards her friend. "I don't mean that, I mean the stuff about it being related to the flu."

"Bob had already said that."

"Yeah, but it's one thing when just anyone says it and when a doctor says it." Tina paused. "Well, Bob's not exactly just anyone, but you know what I mean."

"It's not like this is my fault."

Tina smirked. "Well, you were one of the first to get the flu."

Laura's eyes widened. "You're not seriously going to blame me for this? There were other people in that grocery store who got sick same time I did!"

Tina sighed. "Sorry, maybe this was a bad time to make a joke."

"Besides, I thought you wanted 'magically colored hair' as you put it."

"Yeah, but I'd rather not have a tail, thank you." Tina craned her neck. "You do hide it well."

"For now, anyway."

"So now that your doctor thinks it's flu-related, what's he going to do about it?"

"He said he was going to contact the Colorado Department of Health."

Tina snorted. "Like the government is gonna help. If they didn't do it in the first place."

Laura frowned. "That's not even remotely funny, Tina."

"Wasn't meant to be."

"You seriously think they'd do something like this?"

"Not intentionally," said Tina. "The government and the military have been known to engage in fuckery and not tell the population unless they're forced to. Go look up the environmental clusterfuck that was Rocky Flats."

Rocky Flats was a decommissioned facility in the western Denver suburbs where the military once created plutonium cores for nuclear weapons. Violation of safety regulations eventually led to severe contamination of the soil, some of which was spread by the wind to residential areas. The government eventually paid out millions in fines and lawsuit settlements, and it remained a sore point with many Colorado residents into the present day.

"So if you don't think my doctor reporting it is going to help, then what will?" Laura asked.

Tina grinned. "By harnessing the power of the internet, of course."

"I thought people would be already."

"Well, yeah, some have been tweeting and blogging about their hair and eyes."

"So isn't that enough?"

"Apparently not," said Tina. "I haven't seen anything in the news except some fluff pieces speculating if it's some sort of weird new fad or viral marketing for an upcoming film. Some newspapers and TV stations in Denver have a news tip form on their websites. I submitted to a few of them this morning."

"So maybe you'll get something there."

"Maybe," said Tina. "Or maybe they need something more than just hair and eyes."

Laura's eyes widened. "You don't seriously want me to post pics of my--" She lowered her voice and leaned forward. "--my tail, do you?"

"Why not?" said Tina. "Just a pic or two would be enough to--"

"I am not posting pics of my naked butt on the internet!"

Tina rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I didn't mean that. Find some old pants you don't need anymore and cut a hole in them. Or I could lend you some."

Laura clutched her books tighter. This was the last thing she wanted to do, but she couldn't get away from the voice in the back of her head telling her this was an important responsibility. "I don't want to do this alone."

"Then let's ask around," said Tina. "There has to be someone else with a tail. Maybe we can convince them as well."

Laura took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll try."

Soon after Laura had left for school, Sarah had sat down in front of her computer to try to work on her book. After spending a half hour staring at the blinking cursor on her document without typing so much as a single letter, she realized she had spent all that time thinking of everything except her book.

She regretted having sent Laura along to school, even if it had been at her daughter's own insistence. Harold's cabin fever had become too great to keep him in the house, leaving her with no one to talk to. He had asked her to accompany him, but she had believed she needed only her book to distract her.

Sarah placed an elbow on the desk and leaned her head against her hand. She brought up her web browser and idly clicked over to CNN. The top story was some geopolitical dust-up concerning trade with China that had no immediate relevance to her life. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she spotted a story under the domestic headlines titled "New Flu Epidemic in US?"

Sarah clicked over to it and read: According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, there has been a sharp rise in the number of reported cases of influenza along the Front Range. Areas hardest hit in terms of percentage of the population infected include Breckenridge, Lazy Pines, and Silverthorne. A growing number of cases have been reported in Boulder, Denver, Grand Junction, and Phoenix. CDC officials believe that the new outbreak has been helped in its spread by the booming ski resort tourist trade in Colorado. A very snowy winter and a wet and cold spring have combined to set near record-breaking numbers of tourists over the past month. A CDC spokesman stated, "We are studying the situation carefully but see no cause for alarm at this time. I should remind everyone that we are still in an active flu season, and spikes like this are not uncommon. We recommend that the public follow the usual precautions to help protect themselves and to prevent further spread. More information can be found on the CDC's website at www.cdc.gov."

Sarah flinched slightly when her cell phone rang. She yanked it out and tensed when she saw it was from Greg. "Hello?"

"I really debated with myself as to whether to call you or not, Sarah," said Greg. "Especially after what we talked about last time."

"Then you wouldn't have called me if you didn't think it was important, would you?"

"True, but at the same time, if you don't think it's safe for us to talk--"

"You obviously think it is," said Sarah. "Or you're willing to take the chance."

"But are you?"

"If this is just about my research, then maybe not right now," said Sarah. "I'm worried about my family's safety, but not in the way you're probably thinking."

"Actually, I might know," said Greg. "You've got something odd going on in that town. It's starting to make the rounds on social media. Something about weird hair and eye colors."

Sarah sighed. "It's ... worse than that."

"Then maybe we better take the chance and talk."

Sarah's heart thumped. "Does this have anything to do with what's been happening to us here?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. It just seems a hell of a coincidence that your odd hair color started the same day you were at the site."

"Turned out my daughter Laura already had the problem worse than me."

"Sorry to hear that," Greg said in a more subdued voice. "Maybe we shouldn't talk, then."

"Greg, right now, I'm desperate for anything, so I'll take the chance. What is it?"

"I went back to the site," said Greg. "Something had really bugged me about how those petroglyphs were destroyed."

"You said it must've been acid."

"I had a chemical expert look at it. To put it mildly, he was stumped. He knew of no acid or solvent that worked that uniformly, at least not at an odd angle like that."

Sarah paused. "Then it was machined off? A grinder or sander that took off the top layer of rock?"

"With as crumbly as that particular strata is? Hardy," said Greg. "This thing almost has a mirror-smooth finish now. I have no clue how they did it. You might as well list 'magic pixie dust' as a viable cause."

"Oh, come on, Greg, there has to be a logical explanation!"

"I haven't even told you the really way out part of this yet," said Greg. "The pics I took turned out really well. So well that I could do some substantial edge detection analysis."

Sarah knew where this was going. "Did the artist sketch an outline for the final figure?"

"Yes," said Greg. "We didn't see it because the petroglyphs were in shadow, but under the camera lights, the contrast showed up nicely. The incomplete horse-like creature was intended to have a horn."

Sarah leaned back in her chair. "So it may be a more ordinary animal, like an antelope or pronghorn--"

"No, you didn't hear me right," said Greg. "A horn. Singular. As in located in the middle of its forehead."

Sarah hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"That the artist scratched in a crude outline of a horn, yes," said Greg. "I'm sure of nothing after that."

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "This could go any number of ways. Whatever people they made contact with could have conveyed to them legends of pegasi and unicorns as well as the concept of horses. Maybe with the language gap, they confused reality with fantasy and thought they were being told about different types of the same species. That could be a huge boost to my theories if true."

"I suppose that's the most logical explanation."

"Why would you think it would be more fantastic than that?" asked Sarah. "Or have anything to do with ... um ..." She trailed off as she thought back to Laura's tail, and what Laura had said her sister had seen.

"Something wrong?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"Maybe I'm being paranoid," said Greg. "It's just too many bizarre things happening in such a short time."

"I realize that, Greg, and I admit, it is really strange," said Sarah, "But I'm a scientist. While that means keeping an open mind and maintaining a willingness to abandon old theories when they no longer hold true, I also need hard evidence. So things are going rather oddly both in my personal life and my career, but they're two separate oddities right now."

"Yeah, you're probably right," said Greg. "Maybe I used a connection just as an excuse to tell you about this."

If Sarah had not been so emotionally wrapped up in her family's plight, she could have chastised him for first suggesting that there could be a danger to her family over her theories and then goading her into talking to him anyway.

She rubbed a temple with her free hand. Moments like these led her back to past arguments between her and Harold. He never outright accused her of putting career ahead of family, but the subtle implication was sometimes there.

"I better get going," Sarah said in a subdued voice. "Thanks for calling, Greg. Try to keep in touch."

"Will do," said Greg. "Take care of yourself and your family."

He hung up. Sarah lingered on his parting words. "I try to," she said in a low voice.

Tina paused at the entrance of the cafeteria. Her eyes widened as she stared. "Wow, it looks like a hair dye convention."

Laura looked about as well. More than two thirds of the assembled students sported some sort of luridly colored hair. The color transformation was complete for about half of them. "I've been seeing this every day."

"Yeah, but I don't, since I usually go home for lunch."

"But you're here the rest of the time," said Laura.

"There's a big difference between glancing at people in passing and seeing it all in one go." She pointed. "Look. She didn't have curls at the ends of her hairdo before. The dude next to her didn't have that funky wave in his hair."

"How do you remember stuff like that?"

Tina gave her a half-smirk. "I told you, I'm into hair-styling. I tend to remember people more by their hair than anything else, unless they're really close friends like you. All it takes is a new haircut for me to be like 'duh, who are you again?'"

The flow of students into the cafeteria picked up, and students started bumping into them as they passed. "We're kind of blocking the way, and it's getting crowded," said Laura. "We better get in line."

Tina nodded and started towards the food line. "I managed to find four other people who admit to having tails,"

"I found only one," said Laura a bit sheepishly. She had stuck largely to people she knew at least in passing. She didn't feel quite as comfortable walking up to complete strangers. "He's not really hit in the head with your idea."

"Yeah, that's kinda the reaction I got as well," said Tina. "Bad luck that the attention whores don't have tails yet."

Laura shivered as they grabbed their trays. "Yet? I don't like the idea of this continuing without any end in sight."

"Join the club," said Tina. "This can still happen to me eventually, especially if your doctor is right about the flu causing it."

Laura looked over the food selection. Yesterday had been chicken cutlets, and she had managed to eat most of it, only to suffer indigestion later. At least it had cleared up in time to allow her to enjoy her mother's rice-and-bean enchiladas that evening. She grabbed a plain burger and a side of fries. "So you can't get any of them to do it?"

"I'm working on wearing them down," said Tina.

"But in the meantime, it comes down to me."

"It doesn't have to."

Laura eyed the salads. They looked particularly tasty. She grabbed one and set it on her tray. "But if I don't, who will, right?"

"All I'm saying is that if someone is the pioneer, it will spur the others," said Tina as she gathered her own lunch. "Lead by example, that sort of thing."

Laura never considered herself a "leader" in any sense of the word. She remained thoughtfully quiet as she paid for her lunch.

"Come over to my house after school," said Tina. "I even have some old jeans that I think will fit you that I don't use anymore."

"I have to watch Jenny," said Laura as they headed for a table.

Tina sat down. "Bring her along. Yeah, she's an annoying little brat, but I can put up with her for one afternoon."

Laura tried to sit and yelped in pain, jumping back to her feet.

"You okay?" said Tina.

"Stupid tail," Laura muttered. She slid more gingerly into her seat. "It's longer now, and it keeps getting caught under my thigh."

"So will you do it?"

Laura picked up her burger and looked it over. This close, it didn't appear quite as appealing as it had before. "Yeah, all right."

Tina smiled. "Trust me, this will work out."

Laura lifted her burger, sniffed, and scrunched her nose. "Tina, does your burger smell off to you?"

Heather met Kevin as he was heading back to his office. "Perfect timing," said Kevin as he continued walking. "You'll want to hear this. I found an inconsistency in the symptoms."

"Yes, making the waters even more murky is exactly what we need," said Heather in a sour voice.

Kevin gave her a humorless smile. "I knew you'd be thrilled. Anyway, I've had four additional people with tails see me today. If we include Laura, that's five total. Laura and one other have upper back pain. Another has headaches centered around the forehead. The last two have neither."

They reached Kevin's office. Heather closed the door behind them and said, "Are you going to update the Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin sat down at his desk. "I'm still hoping for the blood work to come in, so I can see if there's anything telling there. If not, I'll update them by this evening." He glanced at his phone. "There's a call for me on line one?"

Heather frowned slightly. "The police chief. He can just cool his jets if you ask me."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "Yes, I know, he's such a ray of sunshine," he deadpanned. "Normally, I'd be inclined to agree, but I can guess what he wants to talk about, especially if he's had to deal with more incidents like the one you mentioned last night."

"I just know you don't care for his attitude."

Kevin drew his chair forward and reached for the phone. "Maybe, but I don't want to be standing in the way of him doing his job." He punched the button and lifted the receiver. "Doctor Conner here."

"Doc? This is Chief Barrows," said a scratchy, deep voice.

Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose. One of the things he liked about a small town was the more casual relationship he could enjoy with even those in power, but John Barrows would have none of that. He was too used to the political power he had back in New York City, which gave him the "right" to call people by their first name or a nickname, but in return he expected nothing less than an acknowledgement of his station. Kevin suspected John came to Lazy Pines only so he could say he became Chief of Police somewhere. "What can I do for you, Chief Barrows?"

"I wanna know if there's something I need to worry about concernin' the welfare of the town folk."

Kevin had to parse the man's words carefully. John still spoke with a thick New York accent that was hard to understand sometimes. "Could you be a little more specific, please?"

"I mean, all this weird hair shit," John rumbled. "People are startin' to freak out about it, and it's runnin' my officers ragged. Not to mention the last perp we brought in had a goddamn tail. What the hell's up with that?"

Kevin realized he should have involved the police a little sooner, but he didn't care for John's attitude. He tended to treat Lazy Pines as if it were a big city, rarely trying to connect with people on a personal level. Kevin's view was not unique; several officers who were Kevin's patients sometimes griped about him. "I don't know yet. All I know is that it may be related to the flu."

John chuckled. "Well, good thing I insisted on all my officers wearin' those masks when it first blew into town."

At the time, Kevin had thought it anything but. The flu had hit so hard that seeing all those police officers wearing masks touched off a bit of a panic. He had spent most of his time reassuring his patients that this was not some sort of Hollywood-style infection apocalypse.

"That kinda brings me back to why I called you," said John. "I need to know what to expect with this weirdness. I wanna have something to tell the people."

"Right now, you know as much as I do, Chief Barrows," said Kevin. "I've already contacted the Colorado Department of Health, but I won't know anything more until I hear from them."

"Well, shit," John grumbled. "There's gotta be something I can tell them."

Kevin was reluctant to give anyone false hope, and he certainly didn't want the police dispensing medical advice. "Try to reassure them that everything humanly possible is being done for them. As far as we know, none of these symptoms appear debilitating."

"Thanks, Doc," said John. "What about the chances of my officers comin' down with the flu? Some of 'em are still worried about that. If things are going to hell in a hand basket, I don't want them distracted."

"The infection should have more or less burned itself out," said Kevin. "But there's always the chance someone will bring it in again from outside."

"Mebbe I should order the men to wear the masks again," John rumbled.

Kevin barely managed to suppress a sigh, hooding his eyes with his hand. "Chief Barrows, I would really appreciate it if you didn't do that. I think that would needlessly scare people. Just follow the usual precautions, at least until the Department of Health tells us otherwise."

"Well, I hope they get their ass in gear soon before we really start hurtin'," John snapped.

"You're not the only one. I'll call you back if I hear anything."

"Right," John grunted before hanging up.

Heather smirked. "I take it he wasn't pleased?"

Kevin replaced the receiver. "I just hope he doesn't wind up doing more damage. The man may be competent at police work, but he is far from a people-person."

When Bob heard Laura and Jenny arguing up ahead in the hallway, he considered taking a different route. He had started to turn away when he saw Tina out of the corner of his eye.

"Heya, Bob."

Bob stopped and turned towards her. "Hey."

Tina grinned. "You're so quiet, I wouldn't have known you were back in school if I hadn't run into you. Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I've been back in school for a few days now. You?"

"I've stopped coughing up my lungs, yes," said Tina. "Want to come along? I was looking for Laura anyway."

Bob resisted the urge to correct her assumption that he tended to seek out either Laura or Jenny at the end of the school day. "Sure, why not? She's, uh, this way."

Tina snorted. "Yeah, I can hear. We better hustle before they kill each other."

"It's bad enough you have to watch over me," Jenny snapped as they approached. "Now you want to drag me to your friend's house to do something stupid."

"Will you stop being so obstinate for two seconds?" Laura said through clenched teeth. "And this is not stupid."

"You just said yourself you didn't want your tail out for everyone to see."

Laura blushed and face-palmed. "Will you please keep your voice down about it?"

"Why?" Jenny demanded. "You're about to let it all hang out anyway."

"What's the ruckus about?" Bob asked.

Jenny whirled around, the pink hair in the back of her head whipping about. "Laura wants to post pics of her curly orange butt on the internet."

"Just my tail," Laura hissed. "I'm keeping my clothes on."

"And Tina was dumb for suggesting it."

"Tina is not dumb," Bob said.

Tina smiled and bumped her fist lightly against Bob's arm in silent appreciation for the support.

"And I think this is a good idea," Bob added with more confidence in his voice.

Both Laura and Jenny looked at him and said roughly at the same time, "You do?"

"I don't think anyone outside of town is taking this seriously yet," said Bob. "So anything we can do to draw attention to it would be worth trying."

"Wait, I have an idea," said Jenny. "Have Bob look after me while you go off on your tailed lark."

"Jenny, Mom gave that responsibility to me specifically," said Laura.

"You never heard of delegation?"

"I'm not interested in watching Jenny," said Bob.

Jenny folded her arms and sighed. "Fine."

Laura looked over to Tina. "Sorry about all this."

"Hey, it's all right," said Tina. "But it is reminding me how good it is to be an only child."

Bob glanced over to Laura and Jenny. As much as he had enjoyed spending most of his childhood in the Tanner household, and he did love his "adopted" sisters, he could wish for the simplicity and quiet that would have been his mother's household.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Can we get going? I want to get this done soon enough so there's enough time to do something more interesting."

"Yeah, let's go," said Tina. She turned to Bob. "You coming along?"

Bob hadn't intended to, but if he was being invited, he felt it awkward to refuse. "Uh, sure. I'm kind of interested to see if it gets a decent response."

Tina frowned as she clicked reload for the third time before her dashboard displayed properly. "There, finally."

Bob looked over her shoulder. "Something wrong with your internet?"

She glanced at the modem and router. "Nah, it's cool. Tumblr just does that sometimes. It's like it's in perpetual beta or something."

"Sorta like the latest version of Windows," Bob mumbled.

Tina snorted. "Heh, yeah. Too true. Let's See What We Can Break Today!"

Bob was glad she was not looking at him, as he was sure he had blushed. He had not quite meant to blurt that out. He tended to say things like that to himself when he was alone. He managed a small chuckle without sounding too nervous.

As Tina idly scrolled down her dashboard and occasionally clicked on posts, Bob glanced behind him. They were alone, Laura having left to retro-fit one of Tina's old jeans to accommodate her tail. Jenny had hung out a bit until she got impatient and followed.

"If you don't mind me asking, you just got over the flu recently, right?" Bob said.

Tina turned her chair around and nodded. "Yeah. At first I was really glad I did, and now ... not so much."

"You worried about this happening to you?"

"Of course. Aren't you?"

Before Bob could answer, the sound of pounding on a door came from down the hallway. "Come on, Laura, what's taking you so long?" Jenny cried. "Insert tab A into slot B. It's not rocket science!"

Bob rolled his eyes and sighed.

Tina smirked. "Annoying little snot, isn't she?"

Regardless of whether Bob believed that or not, he never felt it was his place to complain, at least not to Harold and Sarah. "You could say that."

"Must drive your parents nuts."

Bob refrained from acting on the otherwise instinctive need to correct her. She didn't need to hear the sordid details of his special family situation.

Tina observed him for a moment. "So why'd you ask about me?"

Bob hesitated, not having expected the question. "I guess I was just interested."

He knew it was a lame answer, but Tina seemed to accept it. "How do you feel about this whole thing?" she asked.

"I really hadn't thought that far. Maybe I was hoping someone would figure this out by now. There has to be some sort of logical explanation."

From out in the hall came the sound of a door opening, followed by Jenny's cry of, "Finally!"

"I'm not leaving this bathroom until you repeat your promise to me, Jenny!" Laura called out.

"What, again?"

"Yes, again."

Jenny sighed. "I promise I won't make fun of your tail or include it in my stories. Okay?"

A pause. "Okay," Laura said in a soft voice.

Tina and Bob turned as Laura appeared at the door. She hesitated, blushing faintly before stepping inside. Bob's eyes immediately widened. "Wow."

"And a half," Tina murmured.

Laura's tail now extended halfway down her thighs, emerging not so much from a hole in the back of a pair of faded and threadbare jeans as a large, ragged slot cut through the band at the waist. "I'm sorry, Tina, I had to cut more material than I thought," said Laura. "My hair is just to thick to pull through a hole." She frowned at Jenny. "It's not as simple as tab A into slot B!"

Jenny shrugged and flounced onto the edge of the bed. "Whatever. Let's just get this done."

Laura's eyes came level with Bob's, and her blush deepened.

"Oh, um, sorry for staring," said Bob. "I hadn't seen it for myself before now."

Tina grabbed her digital camera from her desk as she stood. "It's definitely longer than I had expected it would be."

Laura tried to adjust the fit of the jeans to little avail. "I don't like how much of my butt is exposed."

Tina crouched beside Laura. The slot Laura had cut was at least a inch wide and three inches long. "Don't sweat it, I'll pick tasteful camera angles, but we do have to make sure people can't say it was just pasted or clipped on."

"I really wish someone else was doing this along with me," said Laura.

"Soon as I get these posted, I'm going to text the other tailed students I met earlier," said Tina as she snapped a picture. "And shamelessly guilt them into following suit."

"What makes you think they'll post pics of their butts just because you told them to?" Jenny asked.

Tina took two more pictures. "Because I specifically chose people that sort of look up to Laura."

Laura's eyes widened. "They what?"

Tina smiled. "I guess there's something to be said for being a lot more responsible than kids our age tend to be."

"Sorry I asked," Jenny murmured.

"Um, well," Laura said in a awkward voice. "It's not like I was trying to draw attention to it."

Bob refrained from saying "That's the point," but he knew Laura had a history of avoiding the spotlight. Back before coming to Lazy Pines, when they believed they were going to stay put for a while, Laura had involved herself in community projects and volunteered a lot around school, but she always turned down anything that hinted she had to take a lead position. She would drop out of the activity if the pressure became too great for her to take a leadership role.

Tina stood up. "Okay, that should be enough." She turned and dropped into her seat before the computer. "It'll take me a while to get this stuff off the camera and resized."

Jenny bolted to her feet. "Then let's get going. I don't want to wait around for this."

Tina looked over her shoulder. "You might as well, I haven't used this software in ages."

Bob craned his neck. "I'm familiar with it."

"You want to stay and give me a hand?"

"Yeah, sure."

Laura turned towards the door. "Let me get my jeans put back on and my tail stuffed into them."

"Don't take forever this time!" Jenny called out.

Tina sighed. "Jenny, why don't you give your sister a fucking break, huh?"

Jenny frowned. "What's it to you?"

"I'm her friend, remember? I don't want to see her get hurt."

"I'm not trying to hurt her," Jenny said in a softer voice. "I always talk this way to her."

"Yeah, well maybe this time you need to back off."

"I just thought having her post pics of her butt on the internet is stupid," said Jenny. "It's not going to fix anything."

Bob's eyebrows rose.

"Oh, right, and you're not all pissy about this cutting into your time," said Tina. "Sure."

Jenny's jaw clenched. "I'm going to wait in the hallway," she said as she rushed out.

Tina shook her head. "Honestly, I have no idea how you and Laura put up with her. What a self-centered brat."

Bob said nothing and simply glanced at the door. Was he mistaken, or had that been the first time that Jenny had even hinted at being concerned over fixing what was wrong?

Kevin had been going non-stop with barely a fifteen minute break for lunch, thus he took shameless advantage of a last-minute cancellation in his schedule to duck out of his office for a short break. If he had any hopes that the change in scenery would give him a new perspective, they were quickly dashed. Enough people in the town were affected by this strange affliction that it reminded him of his continued ignorance no matter which direction he looked.

During the flu outbreak, when three-quarters of the town were sick simultaneously, it had felt eerie to walk down depopulated streets. It felt like standing in the middle of an apocalyptic pandemic in miniature. His sense of unease had been mitigated by the fact that he knew exactly what was affecting his patients and could rightfully reassure them that they would be healthy again.

On the way back to the office, he stopped at a convenience store for some coffee, despite his own admonishments to his patients to avoid caffeine so late in the day. When he moved to the counter to pay, a cop was in line ahead of him. The cop turned and gave him a smile," Hey, Doc Conner. Long time, no see."

Kevin raised his eyes to the man's face and had to think about who this was. "Rick, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me," said Rick. He finished paying for his own coffee and stepped aside. "I know it's been a while since I've come in for a checkup, but--"

Kevin waved a hand in dismissal. Patients he ran into that he had not seen in his office in some time always felt the need to apologize. "Come in when you feel you need to."

"Yeah, I figure you've been kinda busy lately anyway."

Kevin started to pay for his purchase. "You could say that, yes."

"I heard the Chief talked to you today."

Kevin collected his change and moved off to the side. He took a sip of his coffee before replying. "Yes, but I don't think he was pleased when I didn't have any answers for him."

"Nothing ever pleases him, so I'm not surprised."

"In that case, maybe you can confirm if he was on the level with me. Are things starting to get out of hand?"

"There's been some trouble, yeah," said Rick. "But more from people who haven't had most of the stuff happen to them yet. A few people get tails, and they freak out that it will happen to them next."

Kevin looked around. Other store patrons glanced their way. He gestured for the officer to follow him out of the store. "I have to be honest with you," Kevin said in a low voice. "The appearance of a tail is likely the next symptom after the hair and eyes. It's been consistent so far."

Rick adjusted his hat. "I was afraid of that. The Chief is going to want more details."

"I'll inform him as soon as I can," said Kevin. "Right now, my primary focus is on the Department of--" He cut himself off when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. "I better take this, it's from my office."

"I gotta get back on patrol anyway," said Rick. "Good luck dealing with this."

Kevin waited until he was back in his car before answering. "What's up, Heather?"

"Kevin, I'm sorry, but you need to get back to the office right away," said Heather in a harried voice.

"I was on my way back right now. Is everything--?"

A voice erupted in the background. "This is a waste of time! You're taking me away from finding the truth! I refuse to be denied!"

"What the devil is going on over there?" Kevin demanded.

Heather turned away from the phone and called out, "Janet, please! Keep your father quiet!"

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "You have Fred Turner there?"

"Yes, Janet just brought him in now."

"But he wasn't scheduled until tomorrow."

"I know," Heather said. "But when Janet saw the condition he was in, she panicked and dragged him down here."

"Does he have the unusual symptoms?"

"Oh, it's worse," Heather said in a low voice. "He's got the hair and eyes. And a tail. And fur. And ... ears on the top of his head. But, my God, the worst is his feet."

"What about his feet?"

"Hooves," said Heather in a hollow voice. "His feet have turned into hooves."

Chapter 12 - Memories

The Ponyville dreamscape is silent save for the gentle clop of hooves as Princess Luna considers Twilight's request. She finally sighs and says, "What you are asking me to do is violate my sister's trust even further. The only reason I was able to get you that journal was because she has no wards upon her personal archive against me."

"There's nothing about this that's going to be pleasant," says Twilight in a solemn voice. "And I presented the idea of breaking into her private archive and removing the spell myself as only one possibility. But if we don't do something soon, Celestia may renew the spell such that a direct confrontation with her will be my only option."

"You will have a confrontation on your hooves regardless. My sister will not take kindly to this."

"And I don't take kindly to being made to forget my own kin," Twilight retorts. "I haven't told my brother about this yet, but once he learns, he'll be even more angry than I am."

Luna stops and turns to face Twilight. "That is another problem. If you remove the spell, the suppressed memories of hundreds of ponies and griffons will immediately return. Not only will that potentially cause trauma for them, it could cause an uproar across all of Equestria. Depending on what Sunset Shimmer has done, it could provoke a war."

Twilight remains silent for a long moment before slowly lowering her gaze, her ears drooping. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I fear this is a case of the cure being worse than the disease."

Twilight raises her head. "I have to do something, Luna! This can't be allowed to continue! If only Celestia would talk to me and tell me the truth about what happened."

Luna sighs. "I know. I wonder if Tia felt this frustrated with me during my descent into Nightmare Moon." Luna glances up at the star-filled heavens. "Twilight, if you were to remove the spell, would it be possible to limit the extent of your efforts?"

"How so?"

"Could you strip away the spell only for ponies in Canterlot and leave it intact outside those environs?"

Twilight considers. "It's possible, but tricky. Leaving the spell intact anywhere could cause it to ripple back. Weakened, yes, but--"

"But by then, we will have had a chance to talk some sense into Celestia, and it will allow you to discover exactly what it was that has been hidden. Then you can decide how and when to dispel it across the rest of the world."

"Do you really think that would have a chance of working?"

"Consider that there are nobles old enough to have been at court twenty one years ago," Luna says. "If their memories return, and they're aware that they were purposely suppressed, they will put intense pressure on Celestia to explain what happened, even if they know not that she was responsible. Thus we contain the initial fallout to just Canterlot."

Twilight frowns. "I don't like playing political games, but I see your point."

"That said, I believe I have a means for you to gain access to Celestia's private archive without being noticed," Luna explains. "Allow me to demonstrate by adjusting this dream."

Luna's horn glows, and Ponyville ripples away to be replaced by dark caverns only faintly illuminated by glowing crystals embedded in the walls.

"I remember this place!" says Twilight. "These are the old crystal mines under Canterlot, where Chrysalis sent me while disguised as Cadance."

"Correct," says Luna. "My proposal is that you do something similar to how Chrysalis entered Canterlot. While the cave walls do tend to reflect magic, you can utilize your friends' abilities to help navigate to a position under the palace where you can teleport directly into Celestia's archive."

"And then we can use our Rainbow Power to defeat the spell," says Twilight in a dull voice. "And possibly destroy my friendship with Celestia in the process."

Luna turns towards Twilight. "It's up to you whether to pursue this approach."

"I keep thinking there has to be another way," says Twilight. "But if I do it this way, then there's just one question remaining: how do we get into the caverns undetected? Aren't there guards posted at the entrances?"

"I suggest you turn to your student for the answer to that question."

Starlight smiled as she set down her coffee mug. "Well, that's about as hard as falling off a log. I zap them with a mind charm, and they'll never know we were even there."

Twilight sighed. "I had a feeling you would say that."

"Oh, come on, Twilight, this is for a good cause."

"Most guards are trained to resist such things, especially after the wedding incident," said Twilight.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Um, Twilight? What pony at the table here put all five of our friends under a powerful mind control spell recently?"

"You," Twilight muttered.

"So, yeah, I think I can handle any defenses they have for that sort of thing."

Twilight took a sip of her tea. "All right, I suppose we don't have any choice."

"I'm just sorry I can't lend any Rainbow Power like the rest of you."

"I'm still going to need you to strip away the mind magic from those journals so I can properly see the dark magic," said Twilight.

"So when are you planning to do this?"

"It has to be tonight," said Twilight. "Celestia is expecting me to leave this afternoon for the peace conference. I'm going to take the train out of Ponyville in case she's watching me, but I'm going to get off at Appleloosa and get a carriage ride back. Luna is to send word when her sister has retired for the evening."

Starlight considered. "How do you know Celestia won't try to renew the spell by then? She may be waiting for the very moment she thinks you're far enough away."

"That was another reason I used the Cutie Map to see the extent of the spell," said Twilight. "When she renews that spell, it will ripple to every being who was affected by it. If any of them are near me, I'll detect it, and Celestia knows that. She's going to wait until she's sure I'm well outside the borders of Equestria. Most likely she plans to do it right before she raises the sun tomorrow morning."

"Um, okay, now for the really big question," said Starlight in a slightly quavering voice. "What will Celestia do when she finds out what we did?"

"I wish I knew," Twilight said softly.

"Heh, yeah," said Starlight, chuckling nervously. "So do I."

Cadance pushed her empty plate away with a nudge of magic and levitated the tea kettle to her. When opening the top revealed a distinct lack of steam, her horn brightened, and soon the tea was piping hot again. As she poured some into her cup, she said, "Shiny, I'm a little worried about Twilight."

Shining Armor did not respond right away, as he was engaged in a fruitless struggle to get Flurry Heart to eat her oats. The little alicorn foal had snapped her mouth firmly shut and drawn it into a disapproving frown. Shining finally drew back with a sigh. "Little missie, you are a hoofful this morning. You loved these the other day."

Cadance shook her head but smiled. Her horn glowed, and a condiment from the table floated over and sprinkled its contents over the foal's breakfast. "Now try."

Shining raised an eyebrow but did as his wife suggested. Flurry giggled and eagerly gobbled up what was on the spoon.

"You forgot again," Cadance said in a teasing voice.

Shining chuckled and ran a hoof through his mane. "I'm still getting used to this whole fatherhood thing. And why are you worried about Twilight?"

"I haven't heard from her yet."

"You mean about that anomaly?"

Cadance took a sip of tea and nodded. "I wouldn't be so concerned if Auntie Celestia wasn't acting as odd as Twilight claims she is."

"All I can tell you, honey, is that there are a lot of secrets in Canterlot," said Shining. "Even as the Captain of the Guard, there were things never told to me. I figured there was a reason."

"Yes, but keeping it from a fellow princess?" Cadance paused. "Maybe I should ask Auntie Celestia about it."

"If it were me, I wouldn't go prying into it," said Shining. "What's got you so hung up about this?"

Cadance idly stirred her tea. "Something I realized last night while I was trying to fall asleep. My memory of the time period when the building was sealed is a bit hazy."

Shining gave her a confused look. "Hazy? How can you say that?"

"Why?"

"You'd been foal-sitting Twily for a while already."

Cadance stopped stirring and looked up. "No, I hadn't."

Shining stared. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," said Cadance. "I started foal-sitting her around that time."

Shining blinked. "But you ... oh ... yeah, that's right."

Cadance frowned. "Okay, what just happened?"

"Pardon?"

"It's not like you to forget something like that." Cadance smirked. "Especially since that was around the time you started coming on to me."

Shining blushed. "Cady! Not in front of the foal!"

Cadance chuckled. "Shiny, she can't even talk yet, I doubt she understands what we're saying. Anyway, why did you have trouble remembering that?"

"Honestly, Cady, I don't know," said Shining.

Cadance considered. "Just who was foal-sitting Twilight before me?"

Shining paused. "A friend of the family, I believe."

"A friend?"

Shining scratched his chin. "No, actually ... a distant cousin of my father."

Cadance looked askance at him. "What was their name?"

"Night Moonglow," said Shining. "But we had to let him go because we thought he might be a bad influence on Twily."

"Night Moonglow?" said Cadance. "That's who Twilight said had last occupied that building she's worried about."

"Well ... yeah ... he lived on Old Canterlot Way."

"Which you didn't mention before."

Shining frowned. "What difference does it make?"

"Because it's not like you to be fuzzy on details like that, especially where your family is concerned."

Shining sighed. "Look, Cady, the family was going through a kinda stressful time around then. My grandparents were upset over the fact that they were never going to have another foal, and my Dad got into some sort of row with them over it."

"And you never told me about that, either!"

"Uh, it's not something that comes up in casual conversation," said Shining.

"This coming from a stallion who -- before we were even remotely ready to be intimate -- told me about the birthmark on his--"

"Cady!" Shining cried, stuffing napkins in Flurry Heart's ears. The little foal starting bawling, causing several glasses on the table to crack. "Oops. Um, I better calm her down."

Shining got off his chair and took Flurry into his forelegs, gently rocking her and making cooing noises until she began to settle down.

Cadance smiled faintly. "Sorry, I should know better than to tease you when Flurry is around."

Shining looked up and smirked. "Yeah, you should."

Cadance hopped out of her seat. "I'm going to send a letter to Twilight. Is it okay if I tell her about this conversation?"

"Yeah, go ahead," said Shining.

Cadance nodded and headed to her office. She levitated a scroll onto a lectern, grabbed a quill, and began to write. My dearest Twilight ...

"Starlight!" Twilight cried as she galloped towards the workroom she and her student had been using for their magic lessons. She had a scroll levitated before her.

Starlight turned from the workbench as Twilight rushed in. "What is it?"

"I got this letter from Cadance!" Twilight cried. "Read it!"

Starlight took the scroll in her magic and unrolled it. Her eyes widened. "The spell is breaking down for them, too?"

"Yes! And it proves that it had already started breaking down for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I have no recollection of somepony named Night Moonglow -- or Night Moonshine, for that matter -- foal-sitting me. When we saw that name in the registry at the Archives, it didn't ring any bells whatsoever. Even before this all started, it was already weakening for me. I think it's due to me being an alicorn."

Starlight smiled. "Right! And where Cadance is, too, it makes sense she'd start to get fuzzy on the details as well."

"And Shining Armor is linked by blood to his father and his grandmother and me. So when it starts breaking down for all three of us, he's being affected as well."

"Well, this is good, isn't it?" said Starlight. "We want the spell to weaken so we can more easily dispel it."

"Yes, but there's one problem," said Twilight. "It's going to make it a lot harder for me to do what Luna wants, which is to limit how much of it we nullify. I'm thinking now that once it starts to unravel, we won't be able to stop it."

"There's got to be a way," said Starlight.

"Well, yes," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "If Celestia herself undoes it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"She's the one who cast it. She knows the spell inside and out. Despite my own knowledge, Celestia is still a more powerful and capable mage than I am. Using Rainbow Power is the only way to combat this spell without her, but in light of this, it will be like driving in a tack with a sledgehammer."

"But we started all this specifically because Celestia won't undo it," said Starlight.

Twilight sighed. "I know. Now I'm torn about going ahead with this plan."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're what?! You're kidding me, right?"

"What if Applejack was right? What if I'm giving up a chance to reason with her? I'm supposed to be the Princess of Friendship, not the Princess of Breaking and Entering!"

Starlight frowned. "All that's going to accomplish is Princess Celestia dancing around the truth again and convincing you that she knows everything, that all you need to do is trust her, blah blah blah. This is your family we're talking about, Twilight. We should stick to the plan."

"You're the one who was nervous about how Celestia will react when she finds out what we did," Twilight snapped.

"Try terrified. But I feel this is the right thing to do."

Twilight looked away, her ears drawing back.

Starlight stepped around her until she met her teacher's eyes again. "Maybe this will convince you. I may have discovered something about the nature of the anomaly."

Twilight's ears rose. "What do you mean?"

Starlight stepped over to her workbench, where several pages filled with arcane equations lay. "I've done some work on interpreting the energies we felt in Canterlot. That's what I was doing when you came in just now."

"Huh?" Twilight trotted over to the table. "How can you do that when it doesn't represent any known energy pattern? All you can do is a direct thaumic energy derivation, but the resulting equations would be useless without the proper context."

"When you're quaking in your hooves about confronting an immortal alicorn, you tend to find things to do to take your mind off impending doom," said Starlight. "So I did that derivation, and I think I found something."

Twilight's pupils shrank. "You did??" She looked down at the pages. "Wait, this one on the right details the energies from the time rift you opened during our confrontation."

Starlight's horn glowed, and she lifted a quill. She pointed it at various spots on the right-most page and the others. "Look here ... and here ... and here ..."

"There are similarities in the equations!" Twilight said in a voice of rising excitement.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what it means. I'm not as good with the mathematics as you are. I tend to go by feel rather than calculation."

Twilight's eyes darted back and forth, and she whispered the symbols as she read them. "I've got it! The energy from that anomaly is indeed like a rift, but not through time. It's for traveling through space."

"Space? Like a teleportation circle?"

"This is not teleportation," Twilight declared. "This represents a spatial displacement on a scale I've never seen before. Teleportation allows you to go from point A to point B. This looks more like it's attempting to bring point A to point B, to connect them directly. No wonder I couldn't fathom it at first!"

"Whoa, hold on," said Starlight. "How in Equestria could you even do such a thing?"

Twilight turned to her. "It's all theoretical due to the immense energies that would be needed. It operates on the theory that if you concentrate enough magical plasma in one place, it would create a physical warp in space. A wormhole."

"O-kay, you've really lost me now," said Starlight.

"Here." Twilight grabbed a piece of paper and a quill in her magic. She drew two dots on it, widely separated. "Pretend this paper is the universe reduced by one dimension. See how far apart the dots are? Now watch." She bent the paper such that dots coincided. "That's what I'm talking about. Bending space to go a vast distance by just stepping over a threshold. You don't teleport, you're just there."

Starlight gave Twilight a dubious look. "But isn't that a lot of work for very little return when you can just teleport?"

"Except teleportation has limits. Only unicorns can do it, and not every unicorn can. Even as an alicorn, I can't teleport directly from Ponyville to Canterlot without the aid of a teleportation circle. And once the portal is open, anypony can step across."

"Okay, but it still seems a little out there to me," said Starlight.

"Normally, I would agree with you," said Twilight. "But remember what I told you about my Grandma Glow's dream, and the experiment that got Sunset her cutie mark. She did it. She found a way to concentrate plasma and keep it stable. What she did in her basement lab was nowhere near what's needed for this, but it was a start."

"Fine, let's assume she succeeded at creating this wormhole thing. For what purpose?"

"To open a portal into the Griffon Kingdom. Maybe that's the connection with them, or even the cause of a potential war."

"How do you figure that?" said Starlight.

"Think for a minute what you could do with a portal you could open to anywhere in this world," said Twilight. "If you were of the mindset, you could pour an entire army through a large enough portal right into the midst of another country. Granted, Celestia likely wouldn't do something like that unless she felt Equestria was threatened, but often in geopolitics, it's perception that matters. If the griffons knew she had this technology, they might be worried it would be used against them, especially given their warrior traditions."

Starlight tilted her head. "So Celestia erased all evidence of the portal magic and the one who created it just to placate the griffons? That's almost ... too easy an explanation."

"I know," said Twilight. "And it's still unlikely Celestia would do something like that. But consider this: why would the portal be in Sunset's residence?"

"Uh, why not?"

"Because any sort of powerful magic -- especially if it's dangerous -- would never be allowed to be done by a student of Celestia anywhere but in Celestia's presence in a magic lab with proper precautions in place. Whatever Sunset was doing, she was likely doing it secretly."

Starlight considered. "I still think there's something we're missing, Twilight."

"I know," said Twilight. "But now that I have some idea of what to look for, I may be able to tease more out of that dark magic spell and find out more about what it's hiding. If I'm going to go behind Celestia's back, I want a better reason."

Sunset Glow's heart raced as she trotted through the halls of Canterlot palace. Her eyes glistened as she glanced at the banners displaying both Celestia's and Luna's colors and cutie marks. She had always looked up to the diarchs as kind, almost motherly figures, but now at least one of them seemed almost alien to her. She wished she knew quite why.

She wasn't even sure why she was doing this. As hard as she tried, memories of a daughter she may have had still seemed as fleeting as morning dew. Sometimes she could look at a family portrait and, for just an instant, she could see another smiling face next to that of Night's. Sometimes she could hear her laugh echoing in her head. Sometimes she could see her sitting at the table in her mind's eye.

Sometimes she could remember Sunset doing something so terrible that her mind refused to dwell on it.

What could anypony do for her? She and Night had spent hours talking the day before. Neither could get more than fleeting glimpses into a mysterious past, but what they did get were shockingly consistent. One thing that was consistent was the appearance of Celestia about when Sunset supposedly died.

Glow turned a corner, and she stopped dead. Up ahead, past two burly pegasus guards, were the tall, gold-edged doors leading to Day Court. Outside, several nobleponies milled about, quietly talking amongst themselves.

Glow swallowed hard and started forward, only to be stopped by two spears crossing in front of her.

"Halt!" barked one of the guards.

Glow backed up a step. "I-I thought--"

"State your business, please," said the other guard.

Glow took a deep breath. "I was always told that Princess Celestia ... that any common pony can see her if they wish."

As she spoke, hoof-falls approached from the side, soon joined by a female voice. "Yes, anypony can, but they must go through me first."

Glow turned her head as a unicorn mare approached, glasses perched on her muzzle, a clipboard levitated before her, a pencil tucked behind one ear. Her cutie mark was a calendar with every square filled in with an "X" symbol. "I am Tight Schedule, Princess Celestia's head clerk. Nopony sees her without going through me."

Glow turned towards the clerk. "Please, I need to see her, it's urgent."

Tight sighed as she peered at her clipboard. "Of course, it always is. Do you have a formal petition you wish to bring?"

Glow's ears drooped. "I just want to talk to her."

Tight plucked the pencil from behind her ear. "I have an opening for five weeks from this Thursday. That good for you?"

Glow's pupils shrank as she recoiled. "Five weeks?? I-I wanted to see her today!"

"Impossible," said Tight. She swept a hoof towards the nobles. "See them? They had to wait their turn just like anypony else. You want me to put you ahead of all of them?"

Glow bit her lower lip.

"Five weeks," said Tight. "Best I can do."

"Can you please do me a favor?"

Tight rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

"Just tell the Princess that Sunset Glow wants to see her, and it's about a pony named S-Sunset Shimmer."

Tight's eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to Glow. "Did you say Sunset Shimmer?"

"Yes."

Tight tapped her pencil against the clipboard. "Wait here," Tight said before cantering away.

Princess Celestia took a deep breath, and her horn glowed. The doors at the opposite end of the room swung open, revealing a middle-aged unicorn mare that she had hoped never to see again. The mare gulped, her pupils shrinking. Behind her, nobles gave her dirty looks.

Celestia put on her best smile. "Please, my little pony," she said in a soft, motherly voice. "Come in."

Sunset Glow paused, her ears drawn back. She glanced up at the stained glass windows, many depicting the exploits of her granddaughter Twilight and her friends. For just a moment, she could almost see another figure in one of them, but the vision vanished before it could fully form.

She finally started forward. "Hello, Sunset Glow," said Celestia. "It has been a while since I last saw you."

"Y-yes, Princess, I know," said Glow. "I'm terribly sorry for this, but ... um ..."

Celestia left her throne. "It's perfectly fine. Would you care for some tea?"

Glow shook her head. "No, but thank you."

Celestia closed the doors with a touch of magic and surreptitiously cast a privacy charm on them. "What may I do for you, Sunset Glow?"

Glow stopped with at least four pony lengths between them. "Did your clerk convey the name I mentioned?"

"Yes, she did," Celestia said softly, closing the distance herself. "What of this name?"

"Does it sound at all familiar to you?"

Celestia looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Perhaps I have heard it."

Glow's eyes widened. "Y-you have??"

"Is it not a name you and your husband were considering if you had a daughter?"

Glow's face fell, and her ears drooped. "I suppose ... maybe ... but ..."

"But what, my little pony?"

Glow scraped a hoof on the tile. "I don't think Shimmy and I ever really talked about it seriously. I mean, yes, we talked about having a daughter but not the exact name."

Celestia smiled. "My thought is that you did mention it, likely at a gathering of Twilight's family at the palace during her time as my student, but don't recall. It is a rather lovely--"

"Princess, did you ever have another student before Twilight?" Glow suddenly blurted, her eyes shimmering.

Celestia took a step to the side. "I've had many students over the years, Sunset Glow. So the answer to that would be yes."

"I mean right before Twilight." Glow paused. "T-Twenty-one years ago."

Celestia turned towards one of the stained glass windows. She gazed up at the image of Twilight and her friends using the Elements of Harmony to defeat Nightmare Moon and begin her sister's reform. "No," she said softly. "Not then."

"Are you sure?"

Celestia turned to face her. "I must admit, I am curious as to why you ask about this."

Glow swallowed hard. She tried not to be fearful in Celestia's presence, but despite the diarch's soft voice and gentle manner, she felt as if she were being scrutinized. "I'm not sure. Dreams I've had. Dreams that I didn't think were real until--"

"Until what?"

Glow clamped her mouth shut. She remembered what Night had told her of Twilight and Starlight's visit and what they had said after reading the letter from Luna: Princess Celestia is on to us. "It's not important, Princess, it's just something about them lately that makes me ... m-makes me wonder ..."

"Perhaps this is something you should take up with my sister."

Glow forced her eyes up to meet Celestia's. Her lips turned into a small frown as she said, "You're the one in my dream. You're the one delivering the news that our daughter is dead!"

Celestia's eyes glistened. She turned her gaze away. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you after all."

Glow blinked away tears. "You can?"

Celestia forced herself to look back at Glow and put her smile back into place. "Yes. I can make this better. I can help free you of this dream."

Glow stared. "But how?"

Celestia returned to her throne. "Do not be concerned about the details. Just go to sleep tonight confident that you will never be plagued by it again."

Glow hesitated. "Um, okay."

"You should not have to suffer like this, not for a daughter you do not have."

Glow's ears drew back. She had no idea what she had hoped for in coming here, but this was not quite it. Had she really wanted to be told that she and her husband had sired a daughter who was gone forever? "If I may ask, Princess, why would I have these dreams? Dreams that even Princess Luna could never dispel?"

"Sometimes, my little pony, there is no stronger magic than wishful thinking."

"But I wouldn't wish for a daughter who's dead!"

Celestia nodded once. "I understand. But that makes your daughter no more real."

Glow glanced away for a moment. "Princess?"

"Yes?"

"Say her name."

Celestia hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

"You haven't said her name once," said Glow. "Please, say it."

Celestia's throat tightened. "Sunset Shimmer," she said in a neutral voice. "Is that satisfactory?"

Glow turned away, her ears drooping. "I guess it will have to be. Thank you for your time, Princess."

Celestia's eyes misted. She almost called Glow back. Instead, she opened the doors with her magic and watched the mare go. A noble started forward, but Celestia held up a hoof. "Court will resume in ten minutes." She swiftly closed the door before the frowning pony.

Celestia took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Sunset Glow, but I will keep my promise. After I lower the sun this evening, you will never be bothered by this memory ever again."

The serpent was wounded.

That was how Twilight interpreted it in the twisted realm of dark magic. It writhed and shuddered as if it had been slashed with a knife in several places. She could see greater snippets of the corrupted information, but even with some knowledge of what she was looking for, it would take forever to piece it together.

She didn't have forever. She had to limit her time here. Channeling too much dark magic would leave her too weak to properly excise the spell later that night.

She found an opening and launched a modified indexing spell, looking for anything that dealt with extremely high energies in order to track down more information about Sunset's possible interest in portal magic. The echo that returned to her was jumbled, bits and pieces of different documents and even memories from ponies minds.

(...would have dissuaded her from pursuing such high-energy experiments without proper...)

(...seek to concentrate magical plasma to such vast compression that the resulting high-energy field...)

(...had detected the high-energy plasma and yet she STILL lied to the Princess...)

Twilight frowned. What surprised and disappointed her was how little there was to find on this subject. All it did was confirm that Sunset had been working on very high energy plasma projects without Celestia's approval. But what could ...

(...almost prefer she had went the high-energy road instead of what she actually did...)

"What was that?" Twilight said. "Where did that come from?"

Twilight hurried to trace that thread of data back to its source. It originated from one of Celestia's own journals, a different volume than the one Luna had sent her. She tried to find it again, but the serpent was on to her; it severed the thread and blocked her from finding it again.

Twilight's mind raced. Sunset's breakthrough had been creating and maintaining ultra-dense plasma, which seemed well-suited as a linchpin for a portal. Could she have gone down a different path?

That would mean Sunset used the knowledge she gained in manipulating plasma somewhere else. Theoretically, it could be used to transform different types of magic into one another. Starswirl the Bearded himself had postulated that at sufficiently high energies, all the fundamental magic types unify into a single force.

Twilight had enough time for only one more indexing spell. This time she looked for anything that had to do with manipulation or transformation. It was a long shot, but it's all she had. She cast her spell, and almost at once she was overwhelmed with the response. It was not at all what she had expected.

(...manipulation of the thaumic quanta showed some promise but a reversal was too easy to...)

(...affected the organic transformation matrix to an insufficient degree for permanent...)

(...quickly reasserted itself, thus manipulating the transformation coefficient is a dead end...)

"Transformation magic?" Twilight murmured. "But that's no more than a parlor trick to somepony of Sunset's talent. Why would she bother with it? Unless ..."

(...must effect the transformation to such a degree as to negate easy reversal...)

(...there might be a way for the transformation to harness the morphic...)

(...another vehicle would be needed to deliver the necessary transformation magic gradually so as...)

Twilight gasped. "Is that even POSSIBLE? How?! Please tell me more! I--"

Yet her time was up, and she spiraled up and out of the void.

The beam ceased, and the ichor evaporated from Twilight's horn. Her eyes blinked open, and she uttered a gasp.

Starlight and Spike rushed over to her. "What is it?" Starlight cried.

"Are you okay, Twilight?" Spike asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, Spike," said Twilight. "Starlight, I think I figured out what Sunset was really doing. She was working with transformation magic!"

Starlight hesitated, but when Twilight did not follow up her revelation, she prompted with, "Uh, okay? So? Every unicorn who goes into advanced magic knows that. It's like one of the first things that gets taught."

"Transformation magic?" Spike asked. "Is that where you change a thing into something else?"

"Yes, Spike, that's correct," said Twilight.

"Then I'm with Starlight here. That's stuff you were doing even before Princess Celestia sent you to Ponyville." He chuckled. "You even did it to your parents during the magical test that hatched me."

Starlight giggled. "She did?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah, she turned them into plants. I'm told that she freaked out a bit before Princess Celestia set things right."

"The point is, they would've changed back on their own even if Celestia hadn't stepped in," said Twilight.

"They would?" said Spike.

"All living things have what's called a morphic resonance," Twilight explained. "It's sort of a biomagical blueprint of what you're supposed to be. Transformation magic has to overcome it in order to work, but the resonance is powerful enough that it reasserts itself and eventually changes the creature back. It's strongest in sapient creatures. The only way to keep a creature transformed is to keep renewing the spell. The exception is chaos magic, but that's not what we're dealing with here."

"So where does Sunset fit in to all this?" Starlight asked.

"I think she was searching for a way to make the transformation permanent."

"Can't you do that by just putting more power into the spell?" asked Spike.

"No, because there's a limit to what a living being will tolerate. Past that, you risk harming or killing the creature. Sunset would know that."

"So how did she plan on doing it?" asked Starlight.

"I'm not sure," said Twilight. "I can only theorize that she was looking for a way to transform a creature by modifying the morphic resonance itself, thus effectively changing the creature from the inside out."

Starlight's eyes widened. "But how? And to transform what into what? And why?"

"To answer that, we're going to have to break the dark magic spell."

"So the original plan is on?"

Twilight paused. "Mostly."

Starlight gave her a confused look. "Huh?"

Twilight turned to her. "I finally put my hoof on what's bothering me about this plan. It treats Celestia as an adversary who must be defeated instead of a friend who's made a bad decision."

"So, we're not going to go after the spell anchors?"

"We are," said Twilight. "But we're not going to do it by skulking about in the caverns under Canterlot like we're some sort of infiltrators. Nor am I going to pass up an opportunity to have Celestia realize her mistake and fix this mess herself."

Starlight sighed. "I really hope you know what you're doing, Twilight."

"So do I," said Twilight. "Regardless of what happens, that spell has to be broken. If Sunset was working on both permanent transformation and portal technology, and the two are related somehow, there are too many bad outcomes to contemplate. I need to know what really happened ... and if there's any fallout yet to come."

Chapter 13 - Index Case

Kevin entered his office through the back and was immediately greeted by Heather. "I sent everyone else home," she said. "Some had left on their own after hearing Turner raving."

"Are you all right?" Kevin asked.

Heather took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine now. I was just shocked. I have a reason for why I got a bit unhinged, but it can wait." She handed him a folder. "You really need to see Fred Turner."

Kevin opened the folder and examined the list of symptoms Heather had noted, as well as the listing of his vitals. "All right, no more patients today after him."

"I'd just as soon not have people see him in this state," said Heather.

"Just how many people have seen him?"

"Hopefully no one," said Heather. "Janet brought him in through the back to avoid attracting attention."

"Good. The last thing we need is a mass panic."

Kevin headed down the hallway. He grasped the knob of the door to the examination room, hesitated, then headed inside. Despite steeling himself, for a moment, all he could do was stare.

The Fred Turner he remembered was a man in his fifties who was still fairly robust, chest broad, arms corded with muscle, and standing an imposing six-foot-three with near-perfect posture. Kevin had little insight into the man's past other than his medical bills were paid via military veterans benefits. His hair had been short, wiry, and brown with streaks of gray. His eyes had been a piercing cool blue.

The Fred Turner who sat on the edge of the examination table bore little resemblance to this, save for perhaps his imposing presence, which he had somehow managed to retain despite losing a full foot of height and sitting hunched-over. Where wiry gray-streaked hair had been, he now sported a thick batch of straight peach hair that reached past his shoulders. Spilling from a tear in the back of his faded jeans was an equally thick peach tail. His blue eyes were now amber.

What really drew Kevin's attention were the ears. They had migrated to the top of his head, bore a distinct equine shape, and were covered in short, rust-red fur. Only when the man shifted his weight and Kevin heard an odd noise did he look down.

Kevin stared at something that simply should not exist: two fully-formed horse-like hooves where feet ought to be. Just above them, the skin of Fred's calves were covered in more rust-red fur.

Standing next to Fred was a dark-haired woman who gave Kevin a pleading look. "Doctor Conner! Please, do something for him, I-I don't--"

"He's not gonna do anything for me," Fred snapped, his voice breaking the illusion that this was someone simply pretending to be him. "He's in it with all the others. He just wants to cover the government’s tracks."

"Father, please," said Janet Turner. "Don't do this. Just once, can you--?"

Kevin was drawn again to those ears. As Janet spoke, Fred's ears swiveled towards the voice.

"The only reason I agreed to come down here is to see for myself," said Fred as he narrowed his eyes at Kevin. "And now I have."

Kevin stepped forward. "If I may ask, Mr. Turner, see what for yourself?"

Fred's ears drew back. "That you could very well be the cause of all this."

Janet sighed and gave Kevin a helpless look.

"In what way do I give you that impression, sir?" Kevin asked.

Fred waved a hand at him. "Well, look at you. You're not affected like the rest of us in town. Why would that be unless the government's having you do their dirty work? Or at least giving you a free pass?"

"Mr. Turner, my belief is that your symptoms may be related to your earlier bout with the flu."

Janet's eyes widened.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Fred growled. "I know what flu is, and you don't get this from influenza!" He turned to Janet. "It's what I told you. He's in it with the rest of them."

"No, wait, father," Janet said. "What if he's right? I could've done this to you without realizing it."

"What did you mean by that, Janet?" asked Kevin.

"I gave him the flu," said Janet. "I caught it back in Nebraska. Father was acting odd, and I visited him. I was still feeling under the weather but thought I was over it enough."

"How long ago was that?" Kevin asked.

"About a month ago."

"And you haven't had any symptoms like your father?"

"No, nothing like that at all."

"Stop implying my daughter is in on this!" Fred snapped.

"Mr. Turner, please," Kevin said. "I meant nothing of the sort."

"You're the same as the rest. Trying to deflect blame. Trying to keep me from the truth! But I'm starting to figure it out myself."

Janet clenched her teeth. "Father, I told you before, it's the most ridiculous--"

Kevin held up a hand. "Please, let your father finish. I want to hear what he has to say."

This appeared to mollify Fred somewhat, his ears rising. "You know when I figured out what's going on? Look at this."

He raised a hoof and tugged the pant leg up. What had been the ankle joint had migrated upwards, as if to compensate for the new shape of his foot. The fur continued under the edge of the pant leg. "This is what told me what's happening!" Fred exclaimed. "And I knew I was right, I just had the implementation wrong."

Kevin tilted his head. "Implementation of what?"

"All along I thought they'd manufacture some sorta disaster," said Fred with all the seriousness of a professor giving a lecture. "Make us all into refugees, then corral us into wretched, stinking camps feeding us whatever propaganda they think will keep us going. Instead, it's worse! Their plan is to turn us all into helpless animals that they can herd and keep in stables."

"Stables?" Kevin prompted.

He let the hoof drop. The metal leg of the table rang with the impact. "I've been in Colorado long enough to know what a damn horse hoof looks like. You're not gonna stand there and tell me that isn't their plan. It's me they really want out of the way, and they don't give a rat's ass if they have to take everypony with me."

"Father, why would they do that?" Janet said. "Can you please--"

"Wait, Janet," Kevin said. "Mr. Turner, can you repeat what you just said?"

"They're gonna take me out of the way and don't care if everyone goes down with me!" Fred bellowed.

"That's not what you said," said Kevin. "You said every--"

"I know what I said!"

Janet gasped. "W-wait, I heard it, too!"

Fred clenched his teeth. "I've had enough of this nonsense." He pushed himself off the examination table. His hooves landed with a hard clop against the floor, and he swayed. Kevin and Janet immediately rushed to his sides to grab his arms to steady him, but he wrenched them free with astonishing ease. Kevin rubbed his wrist and looked at Fred in some wonder. The man had always been in good shape, but Kevin had not remembered Fred being that strong.

"Father, please, you need to stay and--" Janet began.

"And do what?" Fred said. "There's nothing he can do for me. Only finding the truth will help."

"Mr. Turner, I want the same thing you do," said Kevin.

Fred narrowed his eyes. "And that makes you think you got power over me?"

"I have no intention of holding you here against your will, if that's what you mean."

"Damn straight you're not. Maybe I'm half horse, but I still got rights."

"But can you answer me a question, please, sir?"

Fred's tail twitched. "Depends on what it is."

"It's clear you had the flu a few weeks ago," said Kevin. "Did anything unusual happen either right before or during?"

"No, nothing."

Kevin knew Fred well enough to tell he was hiding something. He always resorted to short, curt responses when he didn't want to answer the question directly. Janet knew this as well, and she immediately prompted him. "Father, he can't help you if you don't tell him everything."

"Mr. Turner, you've already made note yourself of the fact that you're not the only one with these symptoms," Kevin said. "You speak of taking everyone down with you. I want to prevent that."

Fred paused. "I wish I could believe you," he said in a softer voice.

"Mr. Turner, I need as much information as I can get," said Kevin. "Can you tell me when these unusual symptoms started to manifest?"

Fred's eyes darted to the side for a moment before narrowing slightly on Kevin. "About twelve days ago. Started with the hair. Then the eyes and tail."

"About when did you get the tail?"

"Six days ago. The ears maybe four days ago. Then the fur and the hooves. You satisfied now?"

"Thank you for the information," said Kevin. "But I really would like to do a more thorough examination on you, or at least let me take pictures of--"

Fred frowned. "Don't take me for an idiot. Even if you were on the up-and-up, the system isn't going to help. If I'm gonna get the answers I was promised, it's gonna have to be from somewhere else."

"Promised?" Kevin asked. "Who made a promise to you?"

"Like I'm going to tell you and have you ruin my one chance at understanding." Fred turned to his daughter. "Janet, take me home."

Janet sighed in resignation. "I'm sorry, Doctor Conner."

Kevin wanted to talk to Janet in private but did not want to risk Fred's wrath, so he kept his request to himself for now. "It's fine."

Janet nodded to Kevin and gently took Fred's arm. "This way, father."

Fred slowly headed for the door, the clop of his hooves the most incongruous sound Kevin had ever heard. Even considering Janet's assistance, Fred appeared to be balancing on them well despite his apparent inability to stand up straight. Kevin noticed that Fred's legs were moving oddly, as if more than just the ankles had changed.

At the door, Fred stopped and turned towards Kevin. "I still think you're in on this. You tell your government masters that this will come down on their heads soon. Everything will come crashing down." He turned away. "Take me home, Janet."

Kevin watched then leave before sinking into a chair as Heather slipped into the room. "Well?" she asked.

"All I got out of him that was useful was the timeline of his symptoms," said Kevin. "Not much else."

"Surely there's something we can do."

"I can't force him to submit to a medical examination. Even if I had the right to physically restrain him, the man is as strong as an ox." Kevin rubbed his eyes. "I'll contact the police chief in the morning and see if he can give me more options. I'm going to need most of this afternoon to correlate the new data from the patients I've seen today and update the Department of Health. If Mr. Turner is to be believed, the condition accelerates after the appearance of the tail."

Heather glanced nervously down the back hall. "And you have no idea how far this is going to progress?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Kevin sighed. "This has got to be the most bizarre thing I have ever encountered in my life. It sounds straight of a bad sci-fi story. Fred Turner really looked like he was turning into some sort of horse. Or pony."

"Pony?" Heather asked. "What made you say that?"

"Something he said while we were talking. Also, given how much height he's lost, it reminds me more of a smaller pony than a larger horse. Either case, it's suggestive of something equine." Kevin leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. "I don't think I can do any more today."

Heather's shoulders slumped. "Are you sure you don't have time for just one more patient?"

Kevin yawned and drew his chair forward. "I suppose. Who is it?"

"Me."

Kevin stared as Heather turned around. A few of her auburn curls near the base of her neck had turned cyan. "I'm sorry," said Kevin in a heavy voice.

"No, Kevin, look at it. Really look at it."

Kevin tilted his head and stood up. "Heather, turn your head a little to the left." When she complied, his eyes widened. The cyan hair appeared slightly shiny. He gently pulled a curl straight. It sparkled faintly.

"It looks like it's coated in glass, doesn't it?" Heather said in a quavering voice.

"This is remarkable," Kevin murmured. "I've never seen anything like this among our patients."

Heather chuckled weakly. "Leave it to me to be the pioneer."

"When did this start?"

"I noticed it around lunch time, but we were so busy I didn't want to mention it," said Heather. "Now you know why I freaked out a little when I saw Turner. I ... I don't relish the idea of exchanging feet for hooves. I could almost tolerate the other symptoms, but that?" She shuddered. "It would make me feel like I wasn't even human anymore."

"There's no guarantee that will happen," said Kevin flatly, but the words were starting to ring hollow.

Heather turned towards him. "But if it's a possibility, should we warn your other patients?"

"And cause a panic? People are already on edge, and this will just push them over." Kevin frowned. "I don't want to start treating people for riot injuries. I'll keep going through official channels." Kevin's gaze and voice softened. "Is there anything you want me to do for you?"

Heather shook her head. "I just want to keep working as your assistant and nurse for as long as I'm capable."

Kevin stood and squeezed her hand. "Of course, Heather. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Tina gave a self-satisfied smirk as a reload of her friend's tumblr blog was rewarded with the picture of a short, wavy purple tail as the most recent post. She thumbed the button on her cell phone to send the text message she had already typed: Good going girl!

"That's three," said Bob.

"Yep." Tina clicked back to the latest post on her own blog featuring the pictures she had posted of Laura's tail. "Woo, five more reblogs, twenty more likes. It's starting to pick up some steam now."

Bob could not quite read the text on Tina's monitor from where he sat behind her. "Anyone respond in the comments to what you said about it being related to the flu?"

"Eh, nothing in detail, just short reactions with lots of exclamation points." She rolled her eyes. "And the usual idiots making jokes about traveling to Lazy Pines so they can catch this themselves. Damn furries."

Bob smirked, recalling how much furry fandom he had to slog through himself when he was looking for similar incidents on the internet.

Tina turned to him and smiled. "Thanks for helping with the image processing. Oh, and for fixing that damn video driver crash when we first tried to use it."

"The version of the driver you had is notorious for that, but Windows doesn't have the proper update on its servers," said Bob. "All we had to do was go to the vendor's site."

Tina placed her elbow on the hand rest of her chair and leaned her head lightly on her hand. "You sound like you know a lot about computers."

"I'm not really into it that much," said Bob. "I've just picked up a few things from my ... from here and there."

"So what are you into? Biology?"

Bob's eyes widened. "Er, what?"

"You figured out this was linked to the flu before your doctor did."

"Oh, that. Doctor Conner had figured it out pretty soon after I did, and he had far more evidence than one family."

"Is he doing anything about it?"

"Laura said he was going to contact the Colorado Department of Health," said Bob. "I also heard that there's been lots of new flu cases, but nothing like what's happening here yet."

Tina bit her lip.

"Tina, if I can ask, are your parents affected by this?"

"Not yet," said Tina. "Mom and Dad got the flu right before I did. I think we were something like the last ones to get it." She glanced at Bob. "Sorta like you."

"So we're going to be the last ones this happens to," said Bob.

Tina nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. What about it?"

"I think we should exchange phone numbers."

Tina giggled. "Wow, you work fast, don't you?"

"Huh?"

Tina giggled louder.

It finally clicked in Bob's head, and he blushed. "I didn't mean it that way!"

Tina laughed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased you like that."

"I just meant we should be able to contact each other if things start going really bad."

Some of Tina's mirth faded. "Really bad? What do you mean?"

Bob only knew of some of the details of what Jenny had seen when she was on Fred Turner's property, but what little he had gleaned worried him. "Tina, what if ... what if this will cause some kind of disability? The people who don't have it are going to have to help the people who do."

Tina folded her arms. "That's really cool of you to want to help, but you'd think someone else would be considering that."

"I just don't see things getting better anytime soon."

Tina smirked. "Wow, you're upbeat, aren't you?"

He knew Tina didn't mean anything beyond her usual propensity to be snarky, but Bob felt the need to justify his worry. "A few days ago, I found the blog of some woman in Arizona. She had posted that she had woken up with weird color in her hair. She had the flu a week before that which she said she caught on a ski trip to Breckenridge."

Tina stared. "You're shitting me."

"Then my Aunt Mary said she saw someone near Grand Junction with weird hair. He had caught the flu as well while he was passing through Lazy Pines."

Tina's eyes shimmered. "Let's worry about our own little apocalypse here in town," she said in a quavering voice. She ran both her hands through her hair. "You better be wrong about people getting into a really bad state over this. Hopefully it stays at just silly hair and eye colors and tails. But, yeah, let's exchange phone numbers."

Jenny skipped ahead along the path that wound through the woods, her pink hair occasionally flaring bright in the broken sunlight that shone through the bare canopies. "And here we see the poor peasant girl in one of her increasingly rare moments outside since she was forced to become the personal servant of the Fae Queen ..."

Laura sighed and glanced about as she tried to adjust her jeans. Jenny had wanted one of the steeper hiking trails for a different scene, but Laura was worried it would pull painfully on her tail. She almost wished she had risked it if for no other reason than the other scene didn't include Jenny's queen character.

"And all to ensure she doesn't let slip the Queen's terrible secret!" Jenny declared with dramatic flair. She spun around in place. "Yet here she is, confined to the gardens of the Queen's estate, where she can only dream of the knight who she would much prefer as her companion, even over the stable-hand who--"

"Jenny, don't you ever come up for air?" Laura groaned. "You've been chattering non stop since we left Tina's place."

"Don't interrupt my scene unless you want to participate, Your Majesty," Jenny said in a lofty voice as she continued to twirl.

"I don't want to be part of it in any way, and please stop calling me that."

Jenny huffed and came to a stop. "Fine," she muttered. "Sorry."

"Look, maybe I wouldn't be so upset if I didn't have my own problems to deal with," she said in a lower voice. "Problems that your little fantasy just keeps reminding me of."

"I said I was sorry." Jenny waited until Laura caught up before walking alongside her. "How are you feeling? I mean other than the tail."

"My ears are still buzzing. It's really annoying." She glanced down at her jeans. She had folded the cuffs up to compensate for her loss of height, but the new edges were already brushing against the tops of her sneakers. "And now I'm almost as short as you."

"Hey, I'm not short."

"You know what I mean."

Jenny smiled. "I know, but I have to give you a hard time sometimes."

Laura's gaze softened. "Maybe I deserve that."

Jenny gave her a perplexed look. "Huh?"

Laura stared at her sister for a moment before shaking her head. "Forget it."

"You're weird," said Jenny.

Laura frowned. "You don't have to give me a hard time every minute."

"I wasn't. I'm serious. Ever since Mom saddled you with this job of minding me, you've been acting strange."

Laura's eyebrows rose. "Saddled? You finally believe me when I say I didn't want this?"

Jenny shrugged. "I guess. But why not?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You always jump at any chance to look good in Mom's eyes," said Jenny. "And before you get your panties in a twist, I'm not trying to be mean, you really do that."

"I'm almost eighteen," said Laura. "I need to start acting like an adult."

Jenny snorted. "Laura, you've been doing this almost as long as I can remember."

Laura shuddered. "And you can't figure out why?"

"Only that you wanted to look better than me."

"So much for not giving me a hard time," Laura muttered.

"What?" Jenny said. "I'm just being honest with you. That's what it looked like."

Laura stopped and turned towards her little sister. "Seriously? You don't remember what happened when you were five?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "That's a really long time ago. Give me a clue."

Laura bit her lip as she debated whether to continue this discussion any longer. She had a lot of trouble reading her little sister's intentions. "The big storm," said Laura in a low voice.

"Uh, Laura? We were living in Nebraska at the time. We got storms all the time."

Laura stared at Jenny for a moment before shaking her head and starting down the path again. "You know what? Never mind. It's obviously not important to you."

"Maybe if I had clue as to what you're talking about, it would be."

Laura stopped, her shoulders slumping. Jenny had to be just playing with her. Laura took the bait anyway. "The really big storm that happened when you were five and I was eight, the one where the tornado came through the block." She turned around, her eyes glistening. "The one where you could've been killed."

Jenny's eyes widened. "Huh?"

Laura clenched her jaw. "This is why I don't talk to you about anything. You take nothing seriously."

"Laura, I don't remember that."

"Sure. Tell me another one."

"I'm dead serious!" Jenny cried. "I don't remember anything like that."

"Forget I mentioned it." Laura started back the way they had come. "I want to go home. I don't care if you're done or not."

"Um, okay," Jenny said in an awkward tone before following alongside her sister. After a long pause, she added, "I was serious when I said I don't remember."

"Jenny, just shut up."

Jenny frowned. "Anything you say, Your Majesty."

After spending a good amount of time on the hiking trails, Harold headed back into the town proper and stopped at the grocery store as he had promised his wife. Upon returning home, he was greeted by a welcome aroma. He smiled as he shrugged out of his coat and headed into the kitchen, dumping the bag with his purchase on the table. He came up from behind Sarah and slid his arms around her in a hug.

Sarah flinched, nearly splashing stew from the pot. "Oh, Harry, your hands are ice-cold!"

"Sorry." He planted a kiss on her neck before stepping to the side.

Sarah smiled. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture."

Harold glanced at the contents of the pot. "Looks like you're making a gesture of your own."

Sarah stirred the thick, bubbling contents of the pot. "Beef stew is Laura's favorite. I thought she deserved a treat after everything that's happened to her. You get those spices I wanted?"

"On the table." He glanced at his wife. "So, anything I should know about? You or the kids?"

Sarah's smile faded a bit. "If you mean the appearance of any new symptoms, no." She rubbed her eyes. "Other than my eyes itch, but we already know what that means. Jenny's not being helpful by trying to guess what color my eyes will be tomorrow morning."

"What color is the leading contender?"

Sarah gave him a cross look.

"You have to admit, she's probably handling this better than anyone else in the family," said Harold.

"Only because she's not taking it seriously."

"Or she just doesn't want to brood over it," said Harold. "You don't see me moping about it, but I'm sure as hell taking this seriously. I just don't know what to do about it."

"Maybe I do," Sarah declared. "We should seek medical help elsewhere."

"Come again?"

"As much as I respect Doctor Conner, if he can't help us, we should go somewhere and find someone who can."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "You mean go to another town?"

"Why not? To be honest, I have no idea why I didn't think of it before." She tasted the stew and reached for the salt. "I guess I felt like staying in town was the safest thing to do."

"There's no guarantee that anyone can figure this out," said Harold.

Sarah sprinkled some salt into the stew, stirred, and tasted it again. "Never mind that for now, dinner is ready." She turned off the burner. "Fetch the kids, please."

"Will do," said Harold as he headed away.

Sarah folded her arms and sighed. Already she was reconsidering her idea. Was it best to stay in town among people she knew rather than traipsing off to places unknown?

She shook her head when her thoughts threatened to run in circles. She grabbed some bowls and started portioning out the meal. She brought the first two out, her eyes flicking over her daughters, looking for any sign that something else had changed. She noticed Laura wearing jeans she didn't recognize, tail draped over the side of the chair. She decided not to ask about it for now.

The silence made her feel uneasy. Usually someone was chatting up a storm by now.

Sarah glanced at Bob before setting the first two bowls down before Jenny and Laura. A few more trips to the kitchen, and she finished serving the meal before sitting down before her own.

She glanced at Laura, who was picking at the contents of her bowl with a fork, her nose scrunched up.

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asked, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice.

Laura looked up, her face slightly pale. "Um ... I don't ..."

"It's your favorite."

Laura speared a piece of beef and brought it to her lips. She made a gagging noise and let the fork fall into her bowl, splashing sauce over the table.

Harold looked over to her. "Laura, are you all right?"

Laura pushed the bowl away. "I can't eat this," she said in a miserable voice.

"Are you not hungry?" said Sarah.

"I'm starving!" said Laura. "I could barely eat my lunch. Well, the fries and the salad I could, but not the burger. It's like it smelled bad or something."

Sarah's heart pounded. "Jenny, how is your stew?"

Jenny glanced at her sister for a moment before saying, "It tastes fine to me, Mom." Her voice was unusually sedate.

"Bob? Harold?" said Sarah.

"Mine is fine," said Bob.

"Same here," said Harold, his concerned gaze still on his daughter.

Laura lowered her head and covered it with her arms. "Please, I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid--"

"You certainly are not," Sarah declared.

"I-I knew I was having trouble eating meat, but I thought it was just stress or bad cafeteria food! I didn't think it would get this bad! I'm sorry!"

"Laura, you have nothing to apologize for." Sarah stood up. "I'll make you a salad. What about cheese? Can you eat that?"

Laura slowly lifted her head and nodded. "I think so."

"I'll put some in so you have something more substantial." She whirled around and headed into the kitchen.

Harold followed her in a few moments later. "Honey, are you--"

She spun around to face him. "No, I am not all right. None of us are all right. We have to stop pretending that we are. We need to get out of this town."

"And just where the hell do we go?"

"Denver," said Sarah. "It's the closest major city. Surely they have better hospitals and clinics there that can help us!"

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "Honey, there's bad weather moving in tonight. About a foot of heavy wet snow from here clear through into Denver."

"We've driven in that before."

"And just where do we stay?" Harold said, his voice rising. "You think we could crowd into Eileen's apartment? That's assuming she doesn't take in Bob and tell the rest of us to go to hell. We have no money for a hotel for a family of five."

"We'd be checked into the hospital at first," Sarah countered.

"Sarah, we have no medical insurance. There's a reason we stick with Doctor Conner. He lets us pay over time."

"The hospital can't just reject us!" Sarah snapped.

"If we showed up bleeding to death, I'd agree with you."

Sarah clenched her hands into fists. "I just want to do something," she said in a low voice. "I don't ... I don't want to feel like I'm ignoring this."

Harold tilted his head. "What gave you the idea you were?" he said in a softer voice.

Sarah folded her arms. "Greg called me earlier. He had some new information for me. It's not important what it is, but I've been wrapped up in it all day. I was lucky I remembered to get dinner started in time."

"Sarah, stop, please."

"No, listen to me. I obsessed over it because I thought somehow it might be related to what's happening to our family without realizing how ludicrous that was." Sarah paused. "Maybe I am letting my career take too much precedence over our family. It's like I can't separate them anymore."

Harold pulled her into a hug. "If anyone's been ignoring things, it's me. At least you're trying to figure out something to do. I've been pretty useless."

Sarah closed her eyes and leaned into him. "You're not useless. Stop listening to your father."

"Remember the returned letter?" said Harold in a flat voice. "He hasn't said a word to me lately."

"Then you're doing a good job of filling in for him."

Harold sighed. "Let's get back to dinner for now. You still need to make that salad for Laura."

Sarah nodded as they broke off the embrace. "I meant what I said, Harry. You're not useless. If anything, you've been the one holding this family together the past few years."

Harold didn't particularly feel like it, but he accepted it for now. "If you still think we have to go somewhere else, let's talk more on it in the morning."

Sarah smiled faintly and nodded. She kissed him briefly on the lips before they parted.

Harold's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he headed back into the dining room. "Everything okay?" Bob asked in a tentative voice.

Harold forced a small smile. "Yeah, it's good. We got it under control."

Despite the nodding of heads, Harold doubted anyone believed that any more than he did.

As the skies above Lazy Pines deepened into twilight, Kevin glanced out the window of the Mexican restaurant as another car pulled into the parking lot. He set down the margarita he had been nursing when he saw Janet emerge. He followed her with his eyes as she reached the front door and waved to her as she entered. His server ushered her over to the booth where Kevin sat.

"Sorry I'm late," said Janet as she slid into a seat opposite Kevin. "I had some phone calls to make before I left the hotel."

When Janet had not been able to free up right away after taking her father home -- having tried one last fruitless attempt to convince him to tell her what really happened -- Kevin had suggested they talk over dinner so neither had to bother with cooking that evening. "It's fine, Janet," said Kevin.

"May I get you a drink, ma'am?" asked the server.

"Just some iced tea, please."

"Of course. Another margarita, sir?"

Kevin picked up his glass. "One's my limit, thank you."

Janet stared at the server as he walked away, the back of his head covered in purple streaked with red. "Is this happening all over town?"

Kevin swirled the remainder of his drink around, the ice clinking softly. "I'm afraid so, which is why it's imperative I know as much about this as possible."

"I tried my best to get something out of him," said Janet. "I've never seen him act this secretive. Usually, I'm the one he trusts with his, um, theories."

Kevin took a pull of his drink and set the glass aside. "Do you know if he had any contact with anyone or anything over the past month or two?"

"Well, not anyone, I can assure you of that," said Janet as she picked up the menu. "Not with as reclusive and paranoid he is about 'infiltrators'. If he does have something he's hiding from me, I have no idea what it is or where it could be." She shivered. "Just being in his house makes me feel out-of-sorts."

"How so?"

"Like the air is electrified or something. Also a sense of weirdness all over my body."

Kevin hesitated. "Did you feel any nausea or abdominal pain? Headaches or dizziness?"

"I did feel a little flushed, but that's it." Janet looked up from the menu. "Why?"

Kevin was not sure whether to answer truthfully -- that he was checking for radiation poisoning -- given Janet's still frazzled state. "Just a precaution. I wouldn't go back there for now."

Janet's eyes widened. "You think he actually has something dangerous there? Or that his place is contaminated somehow?"

"This is all speculation, but -- and forgive me for being blunt -- given your father's questionable state of mind, I can't rule anything out."

"You don't need to pussyfoot around it," Janet said. "I know perfectly well what my father is like. He wasn't always like this. He was once a very respected man."

"Was he in the military?"

"Yes. US Army Special Forces."

Kevin paused. "The Green Berets?"

Janet nodded. "He was very proud of his service record. I was proud of him, even though I was only ten at the time. He gained a high enough rank to command men in battle."

"If I may ask, Janet, what happened?" said Kevin.

Janet frowned. "I wish I knew all the details. I learned a little through my mother, who divorced him since then. I learned more only when I was lucky enough to find one of the men who served under him. Father's last mission was in Afghanistan, twenty-one years ago."

Kevin did the math in his head. "That would be 2001, right? The forces we sent abroad after nine-eleven."

"Yes. He was very happy to be assigned to that offensive. All he wanted to do was serve his country, Doctor Conner."

"Please, call me Kevin," Kevin said.

Janet gave him an appreciative smile. "Anyway, he was part of the forces that entered Kabul in November of that year. Some scouts spotted odd flashes of light past the outskirts of the city. My father was told to take his unit and investigate. They wanted to rule out an isolated Taliban unit trying to harass the rear."

She paused when the server returned with her iced tea. Both Kevin and Janet ordered their meals, and they waited for the server to be out of earshot. "I take it something happened?" asked Kevin.

"Well, yes, but it really wasn't unusual," said Janet. "At least no one thought so at the time. He didn't find any enemy units, but he did find a little Afghani girl. She was probably no more than eight. She claimed she got separated from her parents. There was a village nearby, and my father checked with the elders there, but no one was missing a child. He took her back to base, and they sent her into a refugee camp."

"Your father said something about refugees in my office earlier," said Kevin.

Janet nodded. "It may be wrapped up in all this, I don't know. Anyway, my father took a liking to this girl." She smiled. "He always had a soft spot for children, and he got along really well with the children of the local population."

"What were the conditions in these camps like?" asked Kevin.

"I honestly don't know," said Janet. "It's not something father ever talked about. All he talked about was the little girl. She wouldn't give her name, and she refused to be parted from a ragged satchel she carried around. Father grew ever more concerned for her and kept visiting her at the refugee camp. They apparently had long conversations together."

Kevin picked up his drink. "What did they talk about?"

"I don't know. Father never told me. But, apparently, whatever was said made father start to make demands of the refugee camp administration concerning the welfare of the girl. Finally, someone complained, and father was reprimanded. He was told not to see the girl again, but he did anyway."

"I take it that didn't go over well."

"All I know is that father raced back to base claiming the little girl was gone."

"Gone?" Kevin said in a wary voice. "She ran away from the camp?"

"The administrators of the camp claimed no knowledge of the little girl at all," said Janet. "It was like she never existed!"

Kevin slowly set down the glass. "And how did the army react?"

"My father was well-respected enough that they took him seriously at first." said Janet. "They even started a search for the little girl, but soon after questioning my father, they remanded him for psychiatric evaluation."

"Do you have any idea what he had told them?" said Kevin.

Janet frowned and shook her head. "I wish I did. Even the serviceman I talked to didn't know much. He didn't even remember their unit finding the girl! He said there was some scuttlebutt about some hostile agent infiltrating the area and giving my father 'subversive ideas', but that's ridiculous."

"They ever find the girl?"

Janet took a sip of her iced tea and shook her head. "Disappeared without a trace. My father was deemed unfit for combat and sent stateside. He hated that. I'll never forget what I overheard him say to my mother. He said 'I feel like my country just punched me in the face.' Things just went downhill from there. He became increasingly suspicious of his superiors and the army in general. He was finally forced into an honorable discharge, but that didn't stop his slide into paranoia. He became convinced the government was planning some sort of move against its own people. Mother divorced him when she feared for the safety of herself and me." She thumped her glass to the table. "And that wasn't fair. My father is not like that, Kevin. He wouldn't hurt a fly. He received multiple medals for minimal use of force."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "I have to admit, Janet, this has been a humbling experience. I admit to being as guilty as the next person in thinking your father was nothing more than a crazy prepper. I had no idea he had served his country with such distinction."

Janet smiled faintly. "It's okay. I tend not to talk about it. This is the most I've ever said about it in one sitting."

Their conversation paused as the server arrived with their meals. They waited for the server to depart before continuing. "Janet, if I may ask, was your father ever formally examined by a civilian psychiatrist?" Kevin asked.

"Once," Janet said. "But I couldn't get him to go again. The doctor said the most likely cause was schizophrenia, especially after hearing about the hallucinations, but he couldn't make that a formal diagnosis without examining him again."

"Hallucinations?" said Kevin.

"That's the most disturbing part," said Janet in a low voice. "Some years after he was discharged, he claimed he saw the little Afghani girl again, and they started talking. His rhetoric against the government and their secret plans got worse." She picked at her dinner. "It was what prompted me to come see him this time. He claimed the girl was visiting him regularly. I'm really worried he's coming completely unhinged, maybe because of whatever's happening to him."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "Janet, I'm thinking back to what Fred said at the office. He said someone promised him something. Do you think he was referring to this imaginary girl?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." Janet took a tentative bite of dinner. "I just don't know what to do. I can't head back to Nebraska knowing he's in this state. He can't stay in that bunker of his forever."

"Where are you staying?" Kevin asked.

"At the Holiday Inn on the south side of town. I have the room booked for three days."

"Then let's see what we can get done in that time," said Kevin.

Janet smiled. "Thank you so much for your help. I really hope father will be all right in the end."

Author's Notes:

Concerning the restaurant scene, before anyone claims the math doesn't work out concerning the years since 2001, please recall the note in the first chapter that stated this takes place in the early 2020's.

Chapter 14 - Confrontation

Celestia stepped onto the balcony and into the long, deep red-orange light of sunset. The sun hung just above the horizon, awaiting her touch to end another day. She held her lips in a small smile, the best that she could muster despite how this task still delighted her even after several millennia.

As she reached the railing, she heard the soft clop of her sister's hoof-falls behind her. Luna had been oddly ... compliant since she had awoken. The word wasn't quite the right one, Celestia realized, but it was sufficient. Luna seemed to be doing everything to avoid debate or disagreement.

Celestia's horn glowed, and the sun slowly sank. She flicked her eyes towards Luna as the midnight blue pony stepped beside her. "A bit for your thoughts, dear sister," said Celestia softly.

Luna slowly smiled. "Perhaps I truly have none this evening."

"Nonsense," said Celestia in what she hoped was a playful tone. "You always have something which preoccupies you. Please, do share."

Luna watched the sun sink for a few moments before she finally said, "Perhaps I am concerned about Twilight."

"In what way?"

"You've placed a rather large responsibility in her hooves."

The sky deepened, and the horizon faded to a dusky orange as the last of the sun disappeared. Celestia turned to her sister. "I assume you speak of her negotiations with the changelings."

Luna stepped forward, her horn glowing. "Whatever else would I mean?" she said gently.

"It is not like you to worry about how Twilight will handle a task. You generally have as much confidence as I that Twilight will come through."

The sky slowly darkened, and the first sliver of the moon appeared at the horizon. "Perhaps, then, I am worried over nothing. Thank you for setting me straight in the matter."

Celestia stepped closer to her sister. "Dear Luna, was that sarcasm by any chance? It is, admittedly, a little hard to tell with you."

Luna remained silent, apparently in concentration as she raised the moon. Sparkling points of light appeared as the sky darkened towards full night. "Perhaps I was merely concerned that Twilight still had her mind on other matters."

"I see," said Celestia as she turned away from the railing. "And yet I still trust her ability to refocus her attention."

Luna said nothing as she completed raising the moon. She continued to stare at it even after the glow of her horn had faded.

Celestia looked thoughtful. "Would it help to know that things will be set right quite soon, dear sister?"

Luna turned towards her. "Come again? What will be set right?"

Celestia chuckled. "Please, don't play dumb. You're not very good at it. You know perfectly well what I mean."

"Very well," said Luna. "Are you saying that you have a solution to the quandary of the anomaly along Old Canterlot Way?"

"Yes."

Luna paused. "Well, that is good to hear."

Celestia had seen the look of surprise on Luna's face despite her attempt to suppress it. "It will be implementing it by morning."

"Then if you intend to be up late, perhaps I can assist."

"Actually, I intend to do it closer to sunrise." said Celestia. "And I am sorry, but this is not something you can assist with."

Luna forced a smile. "I do admit, it was an excuse to learn exactly what the mystery behind this is."

"If you are still interested, you are welcome to ask me come morning, and I will tell you."

Luna gave her sister a confused look. "Why would I not be interested? I imagine Twilight would be as well when she returns."

"If after today, no one sees the anomaly as a threat, there will be no reason to pursue it," said Celestia.

"And yet you're saying that if we are still interested, you will tell us."

"Yes. I promise."

"Pinkie Promise?"

Celestia chuckled. "Very well, dear sister. If you or Twilight are still interested in this anomaly come sunrise, I will tell you both everything. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

Luna nodded slowly. "This is good to hear, Tia. Pardon my bluntness, but I am glad you have come to your senses on the matter."

"All I had asked for was a little time," said Celestia. "And now that I have been granted such, I am prepared to solve the matter. Then, perhaps, Twilight will consent to take up the task I had asked of her."

Luna hesitated. "What task?"

"Why, concluding the changeling negotiations of course. She will be much more eager to do it once this is over."

"Tia, you already sent Twilight--"

Celestia chuckled. "Dear Luna, I know her all too well, almost as well as I know you. She's not on her way to the changeling conference. She's planning something, something that is simply unnecessary."

Luna's mind raced. "Assuming what you say is true, then would it not be prudent to speak to her tonight?"

"I need to conduct this in my own way and time. Have I not already made my Pinkie Promise to you?"

Luna went over the promise in her head, as if trying to find some way her sister could wriggle out of it. "I suppose you have," she said in a cautious voice.

Celestia turned and started off the balcony. "Then I request you send a letter to Twilight informing her of my intentions."

Luna remained still and stared at her sister. "Why do you not do this yourself?"

Celestia stopped and turned towards her. "I know you've been colluding with her, Luna," Celestia said in a subdued voice. "And I imagine she's lost some faith in me. She likely trusts you right now more than she does me."

Luna stepped towards her. "And would this not be the perfect time to rectify that?"

"I will, when I tell her everything that has happened. In the morning."

Luna sighed. "I do not understand why you insist on waiting."

"And yet, is it that much of a hardship?"

"No, I suppose not," Luna said in a flat voice.

"Then, please, send your missive," said Celestia as she trotted forward. "Then we may partake of dinner, and I can retire for the night."

"Yes, of course, Tia."

Shafts of deepening sunset light stretched across the length of the tavern, glinting off the seven steins of apple cider -- and one glass of lemonade -- that the server carried in her magical aura. She approached the table and set down each of the drinks, all the while her gaze flicking from patron to patron. No sooner than her eyes fixed on one did they simply slide off, as if she knew these were no more than nondescript ponies not worth even worrying about.

She accepted the bits from a unicorn she was sure she had never seen before and would never see again. She would be hard-pressed even to remember what her cutie mark looked like. At least the unicorn tipped well. "Anything else?" the server dutifully asked.

"No, thank you, we're good," said the unicorn in a voice as nondescript as her appearance.

The server shrugged and headed away.

Under the veil of the incognito spell, Rainbow eyed Twilight. "So this is your plan? Sitting in a bar in Canterlot out in plain view?"

"Not at all in plain view, Rainbow," said Twilight with a smile. "We won't be recognized so long as Starlight's spell is in force."

Fluttershy's eyes darted from side to side. "Um, are you sure this spell is really hiding us?"

"Positive," said Starlight. "It's the same spell I used on myself while I was, um, observing Twilight prior to our little altercation."

"Ya mean while ya were stalkin' her," Applejack deadpanned.

"Uh, yeah, if you must put it that way," Starlight murmured.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make!" Rarity said. "To not be recognized for who I am in the heart of the fashion district of Canterlot! But I suppose it's better than traversing some dusty caves."

"It's not better, it's boring!" Rainbow said. "Why can't we just stick to the original plan?"

"Because I don't like the idea of breaking into the palace," declared Twilight. "I've already explained this to Starlight. I don't want to treat Celestia as the enemy."

"This still seems deceptive ta me," said Applejack. "We're still sneakin' about like some kinda bandits."

"It's only until we get to the palace. I just don't want to give Celestia any warning that we're coming."

"So we're not breaking into Princess Celestia's archive either?" Rainbow groaned.

"Not in the sense that we're going to force our way in," said Twilight. "We're going to walk in."

"That still don't sit right with me, Twi," said Applejack. "It still seems like stealin'."

"Except we won't be, not really," explained Twilight. "Yes, we'll be removing the spell anchors from her archive, but we won't take them any further than Celestia's office. We then summon her and explain what we know and convince her to break the spell."

"What if she refuses?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight glanced towards the window as the sun set. "Then we take matters into our own hooves," said Twilight in a low voice. "We break the spell ourselves."

"And if Princess Celestia tries to stop you?" asked Starlight.

"I'm hoping she won't."

"That don't answer the question," said Applejack.

"Maybe it's something I don't want to contemplate," said Twilight. "I can't believe Celestia would pit herself against me."

"As powerful as you are, darling, I'm not sure you want to find out of if you'd ever win a confrontation like that," said Rarity.

Twilight cast a sad look at her. "It's not that. Just the act itself would be devastating, and I don't mean in a magical sense. This is not about winning, it's about--"

Pinkie abruptly gasped and leapt out of her seat, her eyes wide. She hung in the air for a few moments in blatant defiance of gravity before falling back into her seat.

"Pinkie, is everything okay?" Twilight asked.

Pinkie smiled. "Wow, did somepony in Canterlot make a huuuuuge Pinkie Promise!"

"Uh, how would you even know that?" Rainbow asked.

"Normally, I don't. Weird, huh?"

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Look, can I at least pick an argument with a Royal Guard just to say I did something interesting?"

Twilight face-hoofed. "Rainbow, how many times do I have to explain this? I want as little confrontation as possible."

"But now that she mentioned it, what about the Royal Guard?" Starlight asked. "Won't they say something to Princess Celestia when they see us in the palace?"

"That's why I want to wait until Celestia is in bed," said Twilight. "Even if they do go to rouse her, it will still give us a little more time."

Starlight smirked. "They won't say anything if I zap them with--"

"No," Twilight declared.

Starlight sighed. "Fine, do it the hard way, then."

"You're still missing the point. This isn't about--"

Spike belched green fire, and he grabbed the scroll that materialized before him. He partially unrolled it. "It's from Princess Luna."

Twilight's eyes widened. "I was expecting Luna to send me word when Celestia retired for the evening, but this is rather early." She grasped it in her magic and unrolled it. "Dear Twilight: Celestia has promised that she will disclose all details of the anomaly in the morning. She has surmised that you might be planning something."

"Wait, what?!" Rainbow cried.

"So much for secrecy," Starlight muttered.

"Thus she requests that you reconsider your course of action," Twilight continued. "Please think on this for a while, Twilight. Sincerely, Princess Luna."

"So, um, now what?" Fluttershy asked.

"Sounds like the Princess came to her senses without us havin' ta skulk about," said Applejack.

Rainbow propped her head up with a hoof. "Yeah. Weee."

Starlight frowned and turned to Twilight. "Do you actually believe her?"

Twilight stared at the scroll. "I want to believe her. I want to give her a chance, but ... I-I don't know."

"What's the danger in givin' her that chance?" asked Applejack. "An' avoidin' a fight neither of ya want?"

"But why did Luna send this?" said Twilight. "Why didn't Celestia send it?"

"Unless she's just playing more games with you," Starlight muttered.

Twilight read the scroll again. "Please think on this for a while," she murmured. She looked up. "All right, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"I'm sorry?" said Rarity.

"Luna may have had to send this with Celestia looking over her shoulder," said Twilight. "This may be her way of telling me to hold off on making a decision just yet."

"So what do we do?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight rolled up the scroll. "We wait."

"Great," Rainbow moaned.

Luna's usual nighttime routine consisted of holding Night Court until around midnight, then spending the remainder of the night dreamwalking. Yet after hearing only one petition that evening, Luna found herself too distracted to continue. As the noblepony left the room, she called Tight Schedule into her presence.

"We have quite the full docket tonight, Princess," said Tight without looking up from her clipboard. "I suggest that you next entertain the motion from--"

"I am considering suspending the remainder of the proceedings tonight," said Luna.

Tight's head snapped up, her ears drooping. "May I ask why?"

"I have much heavier matters on my mind."

"Surely you have time to entertain at least one or two more nobles," said Tight. "Otherwise you will be swamped into next week! Or worse: they'll show up at Day Court."

Luna frowned. Something about the way her sister had worded the Pinkie Promise still bothered her, which delayed her from sending the all-clear message to Twilight. She hoped Twilight had noticed her subtle clue about waiting before deciding to abandon her plans. "I preside over Night Court, therefore it is my decision and responsibility alone."

Tight frowned. "Very well, Princess, I just hope this won't get back to Princess Celestia."

"I would not concern yourself with that. I will apprise her of the situation in the morning."

"I daresay you won't have to wait that long," Tight muttered.

Luna raised an eyebrow. "What did you mean by that?"

"I saw Princess Celestia a short while ago."

Luna's eyes widened. "You saw her? Where??"

Tight was taken aback enough by the vehemence of the question that she just stared for a few seconds. "Um, well, she was headed for the Canterlot Archives."

"What part of the Archives?" Luna demanded.

Tight's pupils shrank. "I-I'm not sure, I--"

"Come, come, Tight Schedule, it is your job to remember small details!" Luna thundered. "What section was she headed towards?!"

Tight swallowed hard. "The H-High Magic section, Princess."

"You will inform the nobles that Night Court is temporarily suspended," said Luna. "Do everything you can to keep the nobles here. Under no circumstances is anypony to even think that Night Court has been canceled. I will return."

"Of course, Princess," said a confused Tight Schedule as Luna galloped away.

It had finally clicked in Luna's head exactly what part of the phrasing of Celestia's promise had bothered her: If you or Twilight are still interested in this anomaly come sunrise, I will tell you both everything.

If you or Twilight are still interested ...

Luna entered her quarters, grabbed a blank scroll and quill, and began to write. Dear Twilight ...

"... I fear I must warn you of what I believe is my sister's true intention," said Twilight with a slight quaver to her voice as she read Luna's letter while they walked a dark side street in Canterlot. "I hope I am wrong, but I believe Celestia plans on not only renewing the spell, but making you, me, and your friends, forget that the anomaly ever existed!"

"What?!" Rainbow cried. "She can't do that!"

"Uh, I think she can," said Spike. "She did it once already."

Twilight lowered the letter, her eyes glistening. "Spike is right! She has more than enough power to pull off such a spell. She's already done it before and suppressed the memories of hundreds of ponies. What's a few more?"

"She can't do it if we use our Rainbow Power!" said Rainbow.

"We can't maintain that forever. At some point, we have to relinquish it, and then the spell will affect us."

"Can you shield against it?" Spike suggested.

"It's the same problem, Spike," said Twilight. "I can't keep it up forever."

"What's the chance that Princess Luna is wrong, Twi?" asked Applejack.

"I don't know," said Twilight. "But Luna knows her sister better than anypony in Equestria. I-I don't want to think that she would do something like this, but can I take the chance?"

"I say we don't," said Rainbow. "Let's go in there and get those diaries!"

"I agree with her," said Starlight. "If we don't do this now, we'll never be able to do it."

"I-I don't want us to cause trouble," said Fluttershy. "But I don't want a spell wiping my memories, either."

"I most certainly do not!" Rarity declared. "That is simply a step too far."

"And I don't ever want to forget anything I ever did with my friends!" Pinkie said.

"Twi, I'm with ya whatever ya decide now," said Applejack. "When Discord messed with my head that time, I vowed that was the last time I'd ever let somepony do that ta me again."

"All right," said Twilight in a firm voice as she rolled up the scroll. "We'll get to the palace as soon as we can. I'll mass teleport us if I have to." She paused. "But first, I want to send a letter to Princess Luna. I have an idea."

Celestia glanced around her as she entered the High Magic section of the Canterlot Archives. The library was dim and silent, her muffled hoofsteps against the carpet the only sound.

She came upon a sign that said "RESTRICTED SECTION - Contact the Master Archivist for assistance". A simple velvet rope blocked the way. Celestia unhooked it from one of its posts and held it aloft long enough for her to pass before letting it fall back into place. A glow of her horn, and the lights rose enough for her to see the scrolls and books that packed the shelves. She advanced further, the tomes becoming less dense as she entered the Dark Magic section.

The irony was not lost on her. Many had questioned why she would ever want to keep information on such forbidden magicks. She had defended her decision by stating that all knowledge was precious; simply having knowledge was neither good nor evil, it all depended on what one did with it.

Yet now she was about to use it specifically to continue hiding knowledge from others.

She tried to use the same rationale that she had twenty-one years prior, that she had only the welfare of her ponies in mind. It was too soon for such information to reenter the public eye. Luna had been only partially correct; while Celestia had intended to make Luna and others forget about the anomaly, she refused to touch Twilight's mind again. In the past, she had what she had believed to be a very good excuse, but it rang hollow now. Adult Twilight was nothing like foal Twilight. Celestia just wanted a chance to fix things before she had to admit to her failings.

Celestia found the correct scrolls and levitated them to the lectern. As she read, memories tugged at her aching heart, yet she resisted falling into a useless cycle of "what if". Just as she fought her inner demons to an acceptable stalemate, her head whipped around when she heard a noise. She frowned and rolled up the scroll with a snap as soft hoof-falls approached. "What are you doing here?" Celestia said in a curt voice.

"I could ask you the same thing, sister," said Luna, her lips twisted into a frown. "But I think I already know."

Celestia took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was less hostile. "How much does Twilight really know, Luna?"

Luna hesitated.

"Come now, sister. Don't you think this cloak and dagger has gone on long enough? You and she were never good at it to begin with."

"You should talk about such things, Tia," said Luna. "It is you who started this."

"Now you sound like a foal on the playground. Teacher, she started it."

"Sarcasm does not become you."

"Nor does your defiance against me."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "And you think that is what this is about, just being defiant? Do you mistake me for Nightmare Moon?"

Celestia paused, her gaze softening. "I am sorry, I did not quite mean it that way."

"Yet you have been acting like you expect us all to fall in line with your will."

"If you only understood how I felt about--"

"Then educate us!" Luna exclaimed. "Stop keeping us in the dark! Can you not see how foolish you are acting?"

"You never answered my question," said Celestia softly. "How much does Twilight know?"

"How much do you think she knows?" asked Luna.

"Please, don't play games."

"Why not? You've been doing it with us."

Celestia remained silent and averted her eyes.

"You want the truth?" said Luna. "My original intent in coming here was merely to distract you."

Celestia's eyes snapped back to Luna's. "Then Twilight is planning something. I need to go."

Celestia tried to step around Luna, but Luna shifted position and stood in her sister's way. "Listen to me, Tia. I was going to meet deception with deception. The original plan Twilight and I had worked out was yet another deception. Even what she settled on is still a deception of sorts. This has to stop."

Celestia swallowed hard.

"Don't you see what's happening?" Luna said. "You're letting your need for secrecy get out of control. Equestria was built on Harmony, not lies!"

"What I did was to protect Harmony!" Celestia thundered, though her voice quavered. "And to protect Equestria! Don't you dare presume that I don't have my ponies' interests at heart!"

Luna's eyes widened, and she backed up a step, but her sister had not taken advantage of the moment to get around her. "I would never presume that," said Luna in a solemn voice. "I believe that whatever you did, you had what you thought was a good reason. What I am questioning are your actions now, not then."

"You say the deception needs to stop," said Celestia, her voice tinged with desperation. "Then tell me what Twilight knows."

"Very well," said Luna. "She knows of a pony named Sunset Shimmer, and that she is her aunt. She knows Sunset was once your student. She knows you cast a Dark Magic spell to suppress all record of her, as well as a mind magic spell to cover up the gaps in the historical record. She knows Sunset worked with both portal magic and transformation magic."

Celestia's eyes shimmered. "She knows all that?"

Luna smiled. "You should be proud of her. She had little to go on other than her own faint memories and a set of hunches."

"I am proud of her," Celestia said in a small voice.

"Then honor that," Luna declared. "Stop what you're planning to do and talk to her."

Celestia remained silent, her eyes downcast.

"Tia, Twilight has agonized over her plans. She doesn't want to confront you, but she refuses to let this go any further, not when her own family is involved." Luna paused. "I told you my original intent had been to distract you. That was until I received an urgent missive from Twilight. My being candid with you just now was her idea."

Celestia raised her head. "She ... what??"

"That's how much she values her friendship with you," said Luna in a softer voice. "That's how much she still trusts you. She's giving you every chance in the world to see reason, knowing full well you will be forewarned and could stop her."

Celestia glanced at the magic scrolls she still levitated off to the side. Her eyes misted. "I need to do what I feel is right, Luna," she said in a flat voice. "I-I have a greater good to consider."

Luna sighed and lowered her head. "I hope you can live with yourself, then. I likely won't be able to question you anymore after tonight."

Celestia let out a ragged sigh as she stepped around Luna. "I'm returning to my room," she said in a quavering voice. "Do not follow me, and do not disturb me."

Luna bit back a response and simply watched her go with sad eyes.

The quiet of Celestia's office was abruptly shattered by a brief explosion of displaced air. Papers flew from the top of the desk, and pencil holders tipped over, their contents clattering to the tiled floor. A portrait of Starswirl the Bearded on the back wall became skewed.

Applejack swayed, placing a hoof to her forehead and splaying her other hooves to steady her. "Woo, that was a mite rough!"

Fluttershy nearly swooned, and her face took on a greenish pallor, her stomach rumbling ominously. "Urk ... I-I think I'm going to be sick ..."

Starlight suddenly thrust a glass bottle in her face, pulling the cork free from the neck. "Here, drink this!"

Fluttershy grabbed the bottle in her shaky fore-hooves and drank. Very soon, her face returned to a more healthy color. "Oh, I think I feel better now," said Fluttershy. She smiled. "Thank you."

"What in tarnation was that?" Applejack asked.

Starlight took the empty bottle from Fluttershy. "Oh, um, it's an old family recipe. Since I knew we might have to mass teleport once or twice, I whipped it up before we came here." She hesitated and ran a hoof though her mane. "Um, seems like somepony in my family was notorious for upchucking every time she practiced teleportation until she got the hang of it." She blushed. "Can't for the life of me remember who that was now."

Applejack chuckled. "Uh-huh. Sure. Still, that was mighty nice of ya."

"Sorry about that, everypony," said Twilight. "I don't normally have to teleport that many ponies at once."

Starlight looked around. "Well, we're here. Where's Celestia's archive?"

Twilight glanced at Spike. "Spike, please put the diary we brought on the desk if you would." She stepped up to the back wall. "There's likely a hidden door in this wall." Her horn glowed. "I can sense a room beyond this one."

"So how do we get in?" Rainbow asked.

"That's easy!" said Pinkie. "Let's just drill through the wall!"

"Sounds good to me."

"We are not destroying the office," Twilight declared. She slowly stepped along the back wall, horn still glowing. "We're going to find the right place to enter."

"I must admit, this is rather exciting," said Rarity. "Secret doors and passages are so much part of the latest Shadow Spade novels!"

Rainbow looked askance at her. "You're not going to start narrating to some unseen audience while everything around you goes all noir, are you?"

Suddenly a large rectangle on the back wall glowed. "I found it!" Twilight cried. "It's right here."

"Well, let's open it, then," said Starlight.

"I'm going to have to figure out how. There's likely some sort of sophisticated magical code."

Rarity stepped up. "Or you could try rapping on the wall to the right three times."

"I don't think it's that simple," said Twilight.

"It is if you read Shadow Spade."

Twilight sighed. "Rarity, I honestly don't think Celestia would put in--"

Starlight stepped forward and thumped her hoof on the wall three times.

"--something so ridiculously easy that reading a--"

Click. The rectangular panel swung inward.

"--Shadow Spade novel would give you the answer." Twilight paused, stared at the opening, and face-hoofed.

"Good goin', Rarity!" said Applejack.

"How in the world did you know that would work?!" Twilight cried.

Rarity smiled. "Oh, just my sharpened investigative senses, darling, that's all."

Pinkie pointed a hoof towards a bookcase. "And the fact that Princess Celestia has a whole shelf full of Shadow Spade novels!"

Rarity tossed her mane. "Ahem. Yes, well, that, too."

Fluttershy gasped as she glanced towards the door. "I hear s-somepony's coming!"

"We need to get the spell anchors now," Twilight said. "Starlight, you take the lead and find any books with mind magic in them. Those will be the ones we want."

"Uh, I'd love to," said Starlight. She poked the air before the open secret door. Magic flared and rippled. "But we have a little problem."

Twilight stared. "A magic seal?!"

"Break through it!" Rainbow cried.

"It's going to take me time we don't have!"

"Oh, no!" Fluttershy cried as she cantered away from the door when hoofbeats stopped just outside.

"This is what I didn't want," Twilight said. "I didn't want a confrontation with--"

"Twilight, if you're in there, please, let me in!" came a muffled voice from the hall.

Twilight gasped and unlatched the door with her magic, throwing it open. "Princess Luna!"

Luna rushed inside. "Twilight, you don't have much time. Celestia is going to renew the spell as soon as she finishes researching the proper magic. It could be only minutes now."

"We can't get in," said Twilight, thrusting a wing towards the secret door. "There's a magic seal across the entrance. It's going to take me ages to work out how to defeat it."

Rainbow flew up. "Then we make a stand right here! She can't renew the spell if she can't get into the Archive."

"What stops her from teleporting in?" said Rarity.

"Twilight can cast a teleportation shield," said Starlight. "I can help maintain it if she needs her magic to work the seal."

"All your plans are for naught, I am afraid," said Luna as she stepped forward. "Tia has a secret passage from her room directly to her Archive."

"I didn't want to say it, but I thought that as well," said Rarity. "Classic Shadow Spade move."

Twilight looked up at Luna. She felt more than a twinge of guilt, but she had no alternative. "There is one pony here who can break this seal right now," said Twilight in a low voice.

Luna uttered a despairing sigh.

"Well, who is it?" demanded Rainbow.

"That would be me," said Luna.

"I don't get it," said Starlight. "No offense, Princess, but I thought Celestia's magic was stronger than yours."

"It is," said Luna as she stepped up to the hidden door. "But after I returned from the moon, Tia placed a failsafe within the walls of the palace. It was meant for the case of one of us needing to break a seal when the other was indisposed or in serious trouble."

"Then let's do it!" Rainbow said.

Luna frowned. "This is not something to be taken lightly, Rainbow Dash. She had installed that failsafe not just for practical reasons, but as a show of faith and trust in me. I feel I am violating that now. I wished I had gotten through to Celestia when I spoke to her earlier."

"But if she ain't gonna come around, then we can't wait no longer," said Applejack. "If all she has ta do is read some scrolls before she can cast the spell, we gotta hustle!"

Luna sighed. "Very well." Her horn glowed, and she lowered her head slightly. Light flashed around the door. "It is done."

Starlight poked her hoof forward but encountered only empty air. "Spell anchors coming right up!" she said before disappearing inside.

Twilight stepped over to Luna. "Thank you speaking with Celestia, I really appreciate it."

"Do not thank me," said Luna. "I failed."

"But did you?"

Luna hesitated. "I do not understand."

Twilight looked around. "If you hadn't gotten through to her at least a little, why isn't she here already?"

"It is as I said, she needs to complete her readings to renew the spell," said Luna.

Twilight shook her head. "It doesn't take long for somepony of her ability to read a few scrolls for magic she's already familiar with. It's more like she's letting me do this."

"Twilight, that is a huge leap of faith."

"Yes, but that's what friendship is based on," said Twilight. "Faith in your friends. Even after all that's happened, I still have faith in her."

"Got them!" came Starlight's cry. She emerged from the Archive with sixteen books levitated around her, all bearing Celestia's cutie mark.

"Arrange them on the table, please," said Twilight.

"So now what?" asked Fluttershy. "Do we summon our Rainbow Power?"

A voice sounded at the door. "That won't be necessary, kind Fluttershy."

All ponies spun around. Twilight's breath caught in her throat.

Celestia stood in the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the fur on her face was damp. For a few pregnant moments, nopony said a word. Celestia took a deep breath as if she were about to talk, but let it go as a shuddering sigh.

Twilight swallowed hard. The speech she had carefully constructed and memorized for this occasion now seemed horribly irrelevant. "Celestia," she finally said in a halting voice. "We ... I ... I can't let this continue. We don't want a confrontation ... we just ..."

She tailed off. Words failed her as she stared at Celestia.

Celestia stepped forward. "Twilight Sparkle," she said in a quavering voice. She glanced at her sister. "I've ... I've made a terrible mistake in deceiving you. And I almost just made another one."

"You were going to renew the spell," said Twilight in a flat voice.

"Yes, Twilight."

"And wipe the memories of Luna, myself, and my friends of this anomaly."

"Not you."

Twilight hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

"I never intended to include you. I was going to tell you about this once I took care of the anomaly. I was going to tell you everything."

Twilight remained silent for a long moment. She glanced at her friends and exchanged a long look with Luna before finally turning her gaze back to her former mentor. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

Celestia blinked and simply stared.

"So I get to be the privileged one," said Twilight, her voice rising. "I get to be special. Meanwhile my grandparents go on thinking that they never had a daughter! And my father thinking he never had a sister!"

"Twilight, I understand you're upset--" Celestia began.

"No, you don't understand!" Twilight shouted. "Or you wouldn't have done it in the first place! I'm not even sure if I'm really angry with you or just the situation. All I know is it can't go on." She turned, and her horn glowed. The covers of all the books on the desk flipped open. "And it won't go on. I want my memories back."

Celestia stepped forward. "You'll have them back. Right now."

Twilight paused before turning to face her.

"And your family, if that is what you want."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want," said Twilight.

"But I beg of you to let me limit it to just them," said Celestia. "Let me explain, let me make you understand what happened and what I did, and why I did it."

"That's all I had wanted from the start," said Twilight. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Celestia."

Celestia strode forward towards the open book. "You have every right to be angry with me, Twilight. But I still wish to thank you."

A very faint smile came to Twilight's muzzle.

"Thank her?" said Starlight. "For what?"

"For taking the chance and having Luna talk to me earlier. For having faith in me when I gave you little reason to do so. I'm sure you feared I could stop you in an instant." She looked over to Luna and gave her a small smile. "Fortunately, Luna knows not to hold back when she feels her sister is being a fool."

Twilight stepped up to her. "Then I was right? You let me get this far?"

"Indeed, I did," said Celestia. "But only because I was too much of a coward to do it myself."

"Please, don't call yourself--"

"No, Twilight, it's time we face the truth, me most of all," Celestia declared. "But let me do as I promised, and rid you and your family of this curse." She glanced over the books. "First, you will need all the anchors."

"Er, what?" said Starlight. "I thought I had all of them."

Celestia gave her a wan smile. "Not quite." Her horn glowed, and another book flew into the room from the Archive. Unlike the others, its cover was less fancy and was embossed with a red and yellow sun.

"That's Sunset's cutie mark on the cover!" Twilight exclaimed.

Starlight stared. "How did I miss that??"

"Because this one has no mind magic on it, dear Starlight," said Celestia.

"So if we actually did try to remove the spell--" Twilight began.

"It would not have worked." Celestia placed the new book in the center and stepped up to the desk. "Now, please, allow me to concentrate."

The others gasped as tendrils of absolute black suddenly roiled up from each of the books like squirming tentacles, twisting and writing as if in pain. Celestia's horn blazed, and they shuddered at the light. Instead of recoiling, they were drawn towards it, as if being sucked in against their will. The tendrils converged around Celestia's horn, twisting and coiling around it as if trying to somehow strangle it. Celestia whipped her head up. The tendrils snapped and shot back into their books. The bits she had broken off dissipated as the glow of her horn died. "It is done."

"Twilight!" Spike cried, springing to her side when she suddenly swayed. "You okay?!"

Twilight trembled, raising a hoof to her forehead. "I-I'm all right. I just ... a-a sudden flood of not just memories but emotions overwhelmed me for a moment. I'll be okay."

"I fully intend to reveal all," said Celestia. "But might I ask that we pick this up in the morning?"

Luna smiled. "That would be more in keeping with your Pinkie Promise to me."

Pinkie gasped. "I knew somepony had made a huge Pinkie Promise! Ha, it was Princess Celestia the whole time. We're going to hear the truth for sure!"

"I'm fine with waiting until the morning," said Twilight.

"We'd all be better off with some shuteye," said Applejack.

"Thank you for trusting me that far," said Celestia in a subdued voice. "I know I have done little to have earned it lately."

"Let's not dwell on that right now," said Twilight. "I don't want to blame anypony for this, I just want to understand."

"Thank you, Twilight. Thank you, everypony. You give me more consideration than perhaps I--"

A scroll suddenly popped into existence before her. She unrolled it and read:

Dear Princess Celestia,

Cady and I will be in Canterlot by tomorrow afternoon. You and me have a LOT to talk about.

Yours,

Shining Armor

Celestia sighed. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Chapter 15 - Speculation

Laura yawned as she stepped over to the window of her bedroom and drew the curtain back. Friday morning had dawned snowy and dark, a few large flakes still wafting down. Drifts covered the back yard and clung to the base of the tree and the back fence. Snowblowers growled and chugged in the distance.

Laura turned away from the window. The bottom edge of her bath robe brushed the floor as she stepped back to her bed, where her jeans lay on the mattress. On the night table were scissors and ragged scraps of denim. While she would have preferred to use the jeans that Tina had let her have the day before, they were threadbare enough that she didn't want to wear them to school. Where the school was on a delayed opening that morning due to the snow, she took advantage of the extra time.

Laura picked up the jeans and held them up, staring at the equivalent of a gaping wound she had inflicted, more than an inch wide and four inches long. She hoped it would be large enough.

She set them down and slipped off her bathrobe. Despite having cut it off the night before, her tail had grown back fully overnight. The thick orange hair reached just past the backs of her knees. There was simply too much hair to stick down a pant leg.

She put on her jeans, only to find that they were loose in the front, and the leg cuffs puddled around her feet. She tried using a belt, but it was just a bit too large. She used some safety pins instead and sat down on the bed to fold up the cuffs.

Her head jerked up when she heard a loud knock at the door. "Hey, Laura, can I talk to you?"

Laura was nonplussed enough to hear Jenny's voice that she paused in her reply. "Um, hang on, I'm still getting dressed." She grabbed a shirt from the closet, opting for a short-sleeve to avoid dealing with the sleeves being too long, but it still felt a bit like a tent. At least it reached down far enough to cover where her tail emerged to preserve what modesty was lost by cutting the jeans. "Come in."

Jenny bolted inside and dropped heavily onto the edge of Laura's bed. Her hair had turned completely pink since the night before. "Have you heard what brilliant idea Mom came up with?" she said in irritation.

"You mean what she mentioned last night before we went to bed?"

"How the hell is packing up and going someplace else going to help?" Jenny demanded.

Laura was a bit taken aback by her sister's vehemence. "What, seriously?" she said as she crossed the room. "You of all people should love the idea."

"What's to love about it? Mom's making us all pack like she wants to be ready to bug out at a moment's notice."

Laura approached a low dresser where a travel bag sat. "Yeah, and shouldn't you be doing that now?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Can you stop being miss goodie-two-shoes for just one minute?"

Laura sighed. "Fine, you never listen to anyone but yourself anyway." Her tail swished. "I don't even know what I should pack."

Jenny stared. "How did you do that?"

Laura turned around. "Huh? Do what?"

"Your tail just moved."

Laura frowned. "Jenny, stop making stuff up, okay?"

"Why would I make that up?"

"To keep torturing me?"

"I wish you'd stop thinking I want to hurt you," Jenny said in a subdued voice.

"Okay, forget I said that," Laura said. "Did you have something you really wanted to talk to me about, or did you come in here just to gripe?"

Jenny glanced at the travel bag. "This is easy for you, isn't it? Pulling up stakes and going somewhere else."

Laura snorted. "This coming from someone who narrates every road trip as if it were some magical adventure, at least until Mom gets tired of it and tells you to shut up. How is this any different?"

"Maybe some of us actually like it here."

Laura tilted her head. "Are you saying you do?"

"Yeah," said Jenny. "It's a great setting."

"You've said that about every town we've been in."

"Well, maybe I like the people, too."

Laura smirked. "You want to reconsider that statement?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You irritate the shit out of everyone."

"Not everyone."

Laura considered. "Is this about James?"

Jenny blushed faintly but said nothing.

Laura smiled. "Is James your boyfriend now?"

"Maybe," Jenny muttered. "Sorta. Kinda. I don't know."

"I thought he wasn't allowed to see you anymore," said Laura.

"We've been talking over the phone," said Jenny. "Late at night after his mother's gone to bed so she doesn't know. We have some ideas to get around the problem."

Laura had to admit to being a bit jealous. She had no boyfriend, but not from lack of prospects. She knew of several boys who would go out with her in a heartbeat, but she hadn't wanted to start a relationship that she had to break off when they had to move again. "I don't know what to tell you, Jenny," Laura said in a soft voice.

Jenny shrugged and glanced at Laura. "Are you really going to leave that tail out?"

"I don't have a choice," said Laura. "It's too thick to hide anymore."

"Why are you even going to school? Mom offered to let you stay home."

"I'd tell you, but you'd just get upset."

"The whole responsibility thing?"

"Yes," said Laura. "Maybe you should try it sometime."

Jenny paused for a long moment. "So, you finally gonna tell me what the hell you were talking about yesterday on the trail?"

Laura frowned. "I already did, and you claimed you didn't remember it. What's the point?"

"Maybe because I really don't remember it?"

Laura shook her head and turned away. "Just forget it."

Jenny bolted to her feet and marched up to her sister. "No, I won't forget it. You called me a liar yesterday. Maybe I do like poking you, but I don't lie just to make you feel bad."

Laura bit her lip as she looked into her sister's eyes. "I just ... all right. It was when you were five. We lived in the house in Scottsbluff. Mom and Dad had to take Bob to the urgent care clinic because he was sick and his fever had gone way up. They left me in charge of you. They got delayed, and the weather went south. A supercell came over the town. I ... I didn't know what to do. Well, no, I did, but ... anyway, the weather got worse and worse. You were scared shitless."

Jenny gave Laura a nonplussed look. "I was?"

"You couldn't stop crying and you begged me to make it stop. When I finally remembered that we had to get to the basement, you were huddled under the coffee table too scared to move. The hail had smashed all the windows and there were shards of glass everywhere. I didn't have the strength to drag you out of there." Laura took a shuddering breath. "If I had figured it out earlier when you were still coherent, I--"

"Laura, I don't remember any of that," Jenny said. "I'm dead serious. I'm drawing a complete blank."

"Jenny, a tornado came through our block!" Laura cried. "It destroyed the home five houses down! If that had come through our house when I couldn't get you into the basement--"

"I don't remember."

Laura fell silent. She stared into her sister's eyes as if expecting this would provide some insight, but Jenny still played her emotional cards close to the vest. Either that, or Laura was incapable of disentangling what she believed Jenny should be feeling and what she really felt.

"Fine," Laura said in a soft, flat voice. "You don't remember. I guess we don't need to talk about it anymore." She glanced at the travel bag. "I have to finish packing and get ready for school. Is there anything else you wanted?"

Jenny hesitated, then shook her head.

"Then maybe you should leave me to it."

Jenny stood and headed towards the door. After she stepped into the hallway, she paused and turned around. "Look, uh, whatever happened, I'm sure you were trying to help. I mean, we're alive, right? That's the main thing."

Laura forced a small smile. "Yeah, I guess."

Jenny nodded. "Right. I'll see you later."

Jenny fled before Laura could say another word.

In a small town like Lazy Pines, plowing the streets was generally limited to the major thoroughfares and emergency routes. Everything else had to get packed down by repeated travel, or sometimes a local resident would hitch a plow to his pickup and help with the effort. The latter generally happened only in early to mid winter, when the snow was light and fluffy; Colorado spring snow could easily snap the blade right off such an amateur setup.

Thus Kevin took advantage of municipal priorities and paid a visit to the police chief in person that morning, which would allow time for the other streets to clear. Upon arrival, he was ushered into an office in the back and left waiting for fifteen minutes before a somewhat short but barrel-chested man entered the room, his dark hair graying at the edges, and his uniform smelling faintly of cigarettes. John Barrows gave Kevin's hand a firm shake. "You got something for me this morning, Doc?"

The man's New York accent seemed even thicker in person, and Kevin would have to pay attention to catch every word. "Actually, I was wondering if you could do something for me."

John sat down behind his desk. "If it means helping get to the bottom of the weird shit that's been happening in town, yeah, I'll do my best."

"What can you tell me about Fred Turner?"

John's brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. "You oughta already know what the townsfolk say about him."

"That's he's a crazy prepper who thinks the government is out to get him."

"Pretty much. We get complaints about him sometimes, but nothing substantial. He tends to keep to himself and hasn't been cited for anything worse than minor parking infractions." John smirked and shook his head. "We get people almost as crazy as him wanting us to run 'im outta town. We gotta explain to them that this ain't the wild west." John leaned forward. "So what's with all the interest in him, Doc?"

"His daughter brought him in to see me yesterday," said Kevin. "I believe he may be the source of these strange symptoms, or at least he was the first to develop them."

John's bushy eyebrows rose. "Huh. So he's sorta patient zero?"

That term had fallen out of favor in scientific circles in favor of "index case", but Kevin decided not to waste time trying to educate the police chief in proper nomenclature. "You could say that. He wouldn't let me fully examine him. I'm wondering if there's anything you can do."

John uttered a windy sigh and took off his hat, scratching his head. "As much as I wanna get to the bottom of this mess, I gotta respect the man's rights. Unless I have at least a search warrant, or I've got some sorta probable cause, I can't do very much. Mebbe if someone had the old coot committed, then a judge could give me an order to root him out of there."

Kevin had a feeling this would not be easy. "So short of declaring him some sort of public menace, there's little you can do."

"Pretty much. Where he keeps to himself, he's sorta already quarantined himself." John set his hat back on his head and leaned forward. "I mean, is this guy some sorta modern Typhoid Mary? Is he gonna start spreading this around if he comes outta there?"

"I have a feeling the damage has already been done," said Kevin. "While I do have to consider the possibility that he's contagious, what I really want to see him for is to determine the exact extent and progression of this affliction so I can better report my findings to a higher authority."

"So is he worse off than anyone in town?"

"By quite a bit, yes."

"How far has it gone?" John asked.

"He has the discolored hair, eyes, and a tail. His ears have also migrated to the top of his head, he has fur on his legs, and his feet appear to have become horse-like hooves."

John stared at Kevin and slowly leaned back in his seat. "Doc, coming from anyone else, and I'd say you were outright shitting me."

"I wish I were, Chief Barrows," said Kevin. "But that's what I saw."

John drummed his thick fingers against the desk. "All right, let's lay this on the table, 'kay? You're tellin' me that the townsfolk are turning into colorful horses. You realize how batshit insane that sounds?"

"That's exactly what I don't want, Chief," said Kevin. "Is people jumping to conclusions and getting panicked. I don't know what the end state is yet."

"Why the hell isn't the government doing something about this crazy shit?"

"I submitted a report to the Colorado Department of Health," said Kevin, "But they've been swamped with flu cases. I put in a call to them last night, and I was told I would be contacted today. Until then, I didn't want to just sit on my hands. Even if you can't help me with Turner, at least you have a heads-up."

John nodded, his brows knitting in thought. "Yeah, thanks for that." John stood. "All right, lemme warn my officers that we may be sitting on a powder keg if people in town start getting worse. I'll let 'em in on this half-horse man. Hopefully they won't think I've taken a leave of my senses, at least until they get a gander at him themselves."

"You think you can do that?" said Kevin.

"I'll find some excuse to send some officers to check on him. If we see him in town, we'll see if we can get him into the hospital."

"Turner's daughter reported feeling an odd sensation while she was in his home," said Kevin. "It could mean some sort of toxicity, but her symptoms were very nonspecific."

"I'm gonna hafta call that one into the state," said John. "Lemme see what I can do."

Kevin stood. "Thank you, Chief Barrows, I appreciate you taking this seriously."

"Just keep me in the loop, Doc, that's all I ask."

Laura stared at the clock as it crept towards a quarter past the hour, then at the empty desk at the head of the classroom. She sighed and leaned her head against her left hand while her right hand drew lazy circles with her pen in her notebook. Her tail lay across her lap, not so much to stop people from gawking at it as to prevent it from trailing on the floor and getting dirty.

Not that it stopped people from staring, even if out of the corner of their eyes when they thought Laura wouldn't notice. She had braced herself for teasing, but none had been forthcoming. If anything, people looked on with worry. All that was said to her directly was when a timid boy with dark violet hair and cyan eyes tentatively asked, "Did it hurt when it came in?"

Laura put down her pen and glanced around. About a quarter of the seats were still empty, yet enough students were present for conversation to rise to a continuous drone of words that she sought not to focus on despite hearing the name "Turner" more than once. The last thing she wanted was to hear something that would upset her more than she already was.

She lowered her head and folded her hands over them, her thoughts drifting back to the conversation with Jenny that morning. Had her sister truly not remembered that storm? Would she really keep stringing Laura along like this for her own amusement?

Laura's head jerked up when she heard the door open, hoping her silent plea had been heard and the class would finally start. Her hope was dashed when she saw it was the Vice Principal, his hair almost completely bright amber. "Everyone, please, be quiet!" He called out. Once the conversation had dulled to a murmur, he continued, "Your teacher has called in sick. In fact, we're short a number of faculty. We have to rearrange the class schedule a bit. Right now, I need all of you in the auditorium. Let's go."

Laura's tail twitched as she stood and gathered her things. The last thing she had wanted was a break from the routine. Classwork would help distract her from her thoughts. She closed her satchel and slung it over her shoulder, wincing slightly at the brief flare of pain that speared her shoulder from her upper back.

The hallway was a sea of students whose mutual tide washed them steadily to the auditorium. Laura spotted more students with full tails. One she envied for her flair for sewing. Instead of a ragged hole, she had a neatly-hemmed opening, and a button to secure it at the top above the base of the tail.

She considered introducing herself, a thought that would have been foreign to her a few days ago. She shook her head nonetheless, though she pledged to remember what the girl looked like. With her red hair streaked with a single stripe each of orange and pink, it would be hard to forget.

Upon arriving in the auditorium, she glanced up at the seats. They were still sparsely populated, and she caught sight of Tina easily. Tina waved, and Laura edged on ahead through the crowd and climbed up to Tina's row.

"So was your teacher a no-show as well?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Laura paused over her seat in mid-bend of her legs. She twisted her hips, and her tail gave several weak flicks.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Tina asked warily.

Laura sighed and swept her tail out of the way with her arm before sitting down. "Jenny said she saw my tail move on its own this morning. I hoped maybe I could figure out how to move it myself."

"Please, don't go making this any more creepy than it already is."

"If I'm going to be stuck with this, gaining some control over it might make me feel better."

"You haven't heard the rumor?" Tina asked.

"I've been trying not to," said Laura. "I don't need to be more upset than I already am."

"Your doctor saw Turner yesterday."

Laura hesitated when she realized that Tina's comment had been a statement rather than a question. "Well, yeah, he said he was going to see Turner. How did you know?"

"Laura, I think you need to hear this," said Tina.

"Not if it's going to upset me!" Laura cried. "I've managed to get myself back on an even keel and don't need--"

She was interrupted when James rushed up to them, his gait slightly awkward. "Have either of you seen Jenny?"

"Jenny was inside her classroom when I passed it on the way here," said Tina. "She must've been one of the unlucky ones to have her teacher show up."

"I really need to talk to her."

"What's the matter?" Laura asked.

"I want to know if she was the one who started the rumor," James said.

"Laura hasn't heard the rumor yet," said Tina.

Laura ran a hand through her hair. "All right, fine, just what is this rumor?"

"That we're all turning into some sort of horse-like creatures," said James in a flat voice.

Laura's blood ran cold.

"I wonder if Jenny had mentioned what she saw on Turner's land," said James.

"Jenny didn't start it," Tina said. "Someone at school here caught a glimpse of him when he was leaving Doctor Conner's office yesterday. He said Turner had freaking hooves instead of feet."

Laura shivered, and her tail twitched.

"Jenny didn't want to believe Turner's ears were real at first," said James in a low voice. "But after hearing this--"

"No, stop it, just stop it!" Laura exploded. "This is stupid. This isn't some dumb fantasy conjured up by Jenny, this is real life! People don't change into animals in real life!"

James frowned. "Well, maybe I'd be a little more apt to believe you if I didn't wake up with my own tail this morning."

Tina glanced past him and smirked. "So, you gonna continue to be the strong, silent type, or you gonna sit down and join the fun?"

Laura leaned forward. "Bob? How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you talking about the rumor," said Bob. He hesitated before taking the empty seat next to Tina despite James still standing in front of it.

"Bob, you're the science type," said Laura. "Isn't this whole thing about turning into horses kind of out there?"

"Well, technically, it wouldn't be horses," said Bob. "More like ponies."

"I beg your pardon?" Tina said.

"Horses are big animals. An adult horse typically stands about as tall as a human. Ponies are bred to be smaller. Laura has been getting shorter."

Tina stared at Laura. "I thought I noticed you looking shorter, but I didn't want to say anything."

James took a seat next to Bob. "Fine, ponies, then. What about Laura's question?"

"Well, yeah, it's not normal," said Bob. "I can't even fathom how it would be possible. But you can't deny what's been happening. Laura can't eat meat anymore, and equines are generally herbivores, but what's odd about that is--"

James' eyes widened. "I've been having trouble eating meat since the eye color came in!"

"Wait, Bob, what was that?" said Laura. "What's odd?"

"What's odd is your complete aversion to meat," said Bob. "Equines are not strictly herbivores. They're capable of digesting meat. They don't have a revulsion to it like you had last night."

Tina ran both her hands through her hair. "Okay, you're all freaking me out right now."

"Why?" Laura said crossly. "You don't have this."

"Yet!"

"Look, this is dumb. Why couldn't Turner have been wearing a costume or something?"

"Oh, come on, Laura!" James snapped. "You can't seriously be clinging to that still!"

"Why would he do that?" asked Bob.

"Because he's a crazy prepper!" Laura said. "He's insane! I'd sooner believe that than what you want us to believe!"

Tina covered her eyes with a hand for a moment. "All right, everyone, calm the fuck down. Whatever this is, someone's going to have to do something about it. I looked on my tumblr this morning. This tail thing went totally viral overnight. It's going to be all over the internet by the weekend."

"I just thought of something," said Laura. She picked up her tail. "Maybe I don't know a lot about horses or ponies, but I sure as hell know they don't have hair color like this. Or most of the colors I've seen."

"Well, yeah, you're right," said Bob. "There's a limited number of biochemicals that cause hair color across most species. That also goes for fur and eye color." He looked around. "This is well outside the norm."

Tina craned her neck and pointed. "Hey, what's going on?"

The trickle of students through the doors of the auditorium had become a flood. James picked out a bright pink head from the crowd. He stood and waved until Jenny looked up and saw him.

Jenny bolted up the stairs and fell into the seat next to James. "So, you have a tail now?"

James rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "Yeah, I do."

"Sorry to hear that," she said in a subdued voice.

Laura leaned forward. "Jenny, what's going on?"

"Beats the hell out of me," said Jenny. "Principal barged into the classroom and said everyone had to go to the auditorium for an important announcement. I spotted some cops in the hallway."

Laura's eyes widened. "Cops?? Are we on some sort of lock-down?"

"They'd keep us in the classrooms if that was the case," said Bob.

The principal entered the auditorium, his hair an even chocolate brown with a gentle wave to it. Walking along with him was a police officer. They conferred for a few minutes as the last arriving students settled into their seats. The principal parted from him and headed to the podium. He tapped the mike a few times to test it. "All right, please, everyone, settle down."

"Really hope this is not some sort of lame pep talk," Tina muttered.

"Thank you," said the principal. "First of all, the police department has requested I make this announcement. Signs will be posted in town to this effect, but Chief Barrows thought it best we get the word out as soon as possible. Starting today, and until further notice, a strict curfew will be imposed. Six PM for all people eighteen and younger--"

"Oh, come on!" someone above them yelled.

"Why are they picking on us?!" another voice rang out.

"That's enough!" the principal snapped. "As I was saying, six PM for those eighteen and younger unless accompanied by an adult, and nine PM for everyone else. Curfew lasts until five AM. All questions and complaints should be directed to the police department and not the school administration."

"Okay, someone knows something we don't," said Tina. "Either that, or they're getting as scared as some of us are."

"It's a typical action to take to maintain order," said Bob.

"But that assumes there's going to be disorder soon."

The principal turned from the mike to confer with the police officer. Finally, the officer nodded before heading away. "Now, on to the original announcement. We have had a number of instructors go on extended sick leave as of this morning."

"Likely the ones sporting tails," Tina muttered. "Wusses."

Laura took that as a subtle compliment and smiled faintly.

"This leaves us critically short, and we're hard-pressed to cover all classes," said the Principal. "Therefore, we need to reorganize the schedule and potentially combine classes for the same subject that normally would be on different time rotations. We're also looking for help from neighboring communities for substitute teachers. We'll be drawing up an interim class schedule and posting copies on all the announcement boards. This will take us some time to complete, and we ask that you remain seated here and keep your conversation low until we're done."

"Why can't they just cancel school for today?" Jenny grumped.

James grinned. "Look at it this way. We'll at least get a little time together."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Though I really wish it was some other setting."

"I bet you could come up with something."

Jenny considered. "You mean like the Fae Queen sending the Royal Guard to keep everyone in their homes at night, since that's when her bursts of uncontrolled magic are--"

"Will you two hush?!" Laura whisper-shouted. "He's saying something else!"

"--to address another issue," said the principal in a stern voice. "And this concerns rumors. It's bad enough that we don't know what's happening, but it doesn't help to spread outlandish stories."

"I saw him myself!" a boy in the second row shouted. "He was right there plain as--"

"I said that's enough," the principal declared. "The next person to make an outburst like that gets immediate detention. I don't care what you think you saw. We don't need people panicking over what may or may not be true. Wait until you hear some sort of official word."

"Yeah, and denial is not just a river in Egypt," Tina muttered.

"I can't blame him for not wanting to incite panic," said Bob.

"He's just doing this to make himself feel better, so he doesn't panic."

"You might be right, but--"

"Shhh!" Laura hissed.

"Until we hear something from official channels, speculation will get us nowhere," said the principal. "I know you're all anxious to have this figured out, but rumormongering is not the way to do it. Now, I ask that you all remain seated except to use the rest rooms until we announce that classes are starting."

The principal left the podium. At once, an urgent murmur of conversation rose.

Jenny stood. "James, we have some time before class starts. Let's find some seats that are not so close to everyone else, and we can expand on the Royal Guard idea."

James shrugged and stood as well. "Might as well. Beats sitting here worrying."

Tina frowned as they left. "Is she taking this seriously at all?"

"I've given up trying to figure her out," said Laura. She stood. "I really need to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a bit."

"Jenny did seem to be taking it more seriously for a while," said Bob after Laura left.

"I don't like this," Tina said. "Some people are acting like they're waiting for someone to swoop in and fix everything."

"Isn't that all we can do at the moment?"

Tina's eyes darted among the crowd. "I did that whole thing yesterday with getting people to post pics of their tails, and now I feel like I've done nothing."

"But you said it went viral."

"I know." Tina was quiet for a moment. "It didn't stop my parents from waking up with weird hair this morning."

"I'm sorry," said Bob softly.

Tina forced a smile. "So, um, they got the flu a week before me. I guess that means I better mark next Friday on my calendar."

"It might not happen."

Tina shook her head. "No, I'm not going to go into denial over this. Hopefully someone will figure it out before then, but if not, I'm not going to pretend this won't happen." She paused. "What about you?"

"Tuesday the earliest, next Friday the latest," Bob replied immediately.

Tina snorted. "Admit it. You had that figured out long before now."

"Yes. As soon as I realized that the hair color had followed the same order as the flu."

Tina smiled. "Depending on what happens, we may need someone as crazy prepared as you."

Bob managed a smile, but he felt no more prepared than the people who were already suffering from this strange affliction.

Kevin rushed to the door of the examination room before spinning around and blurting out, "I'm really sorry about the interruption, but this is rather critical. I'll be right back." He closed the door behind him and met Heather in the hall. "When did it come in?"

"Less than a minute ago," said Heather. "Line two."

Kevin ran into his office, Heather slipping in after him and closing the door behind them. Kevin fell into his chair as he grabbed the receiver. He punched the button hard. "This is Doctor Conner."

A female voice answered him. "This is Doctor Sandra Marlowe with the Colorado Department of Health."

Kevin leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I've been waiting to hear from someone since yesterday morning."

"I apologize for the delay, but we've been very busy with the sudden influenza spike."

"If you've read my report, you can see why I'm so concerned about a possible flu link," said Kevin. "Especially with the data I added about Fred Turner."

"I'll be perfectly blunt, Doctor Conner," said Sandra in a flat voice. "We find that last bit to be a head-scratcher to say the least. If we had this report in isolation, we'd be a lot more skeptical."

Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right, give me the bottom line. Of the symptoms I reported, which ones do you accept without question?"

"The discolored hair and eyes, posterior hair growth, loss of height, and aversion to meat," said Sandra. "These have been corroborated by other physicians in Lazy Pines, and they've shown up on social media. The hair growth in particular has virtually exploded overnight."

"And of the other symptoms concerning my potential index case?"

"So far, you're the only one who's reported them."

Kevin frowned. "That's not what I mean. I want to know whether you're taking it seriously or not."

"That's another reason for this call, Doctor Conner," said Sandra. "I want to make absolutely sure we understand your report, since you've effectively described anatomical impossibilities given our current knowledge of medicine and the relatively short time the symptoms appeared. It's one thing to state that someone has a condition that makes their feet resemble hooves -- which could be explained by a degenerative bone or joint disease -- but you stated they looked almost exactly like horse-hooves."

"I stand by what I reported, Doctor Marlowe," Kevin declared. "I was rather surprised myself, but I can't deny what my own eyes are telling me."

"Photographs would have really helped," said Sandra.

"I noted he was a reluctant patient," said Kevin. "What of the ears and fur?"

Heather shifted uneasily and clutched the folders to her chest more tightly.

"The fur could be an unusual overgrowth of body hair," said Sandra. "As for the ears, let me make sure I understand this fully as well. You described a condition where an amount of cartilage, flesh, and bone was spontaneous and perfectly reabsorbed in one part of the body only to appear in another, in a different form, and in a fully functional state."

"Admittedly, I didn't test his auditory acuity," said Kevin. "I based my assessment on the fact that he could clearly hear me and that his ears, despite their abnormal shape and position, appeared symmetrical."

"And you're sure that neither the hooves nor ears are congenital conditions?"

"Positive," said Kevin firmly. "I had examined him when he was healthy about a year ago. He had none of these abnormalities whatsoever."

Kevin heard a faint tapping noise and assumed it was a pen or something similar against a desk. "Doctor Conner, do you have any other test results that you can send us?"

"I assume you already pulled the reports for the hair samples," said Kevin. "I have outstanding general spectrum blood work I ordered on several patients who have the posterior hair growth."

"What lab did you send them to?"

Kevin told her. "They said they're rather far behind."

Sandra began typing. "We'll contact them and get them to expedite those tests. For any further lab work related to this condition, I want you to send them directly to our labs for faster turnaround."

Kevin let out a sigh of relief. "So you will take this seriously."

"Despite the lack of confidence in the symptoms concerning the ears and hooves, there is enough corroborated data on the other symptoms to be of intense immediate concern," Sandra intoned. "That's the official word of the Colorado Department of Health. Unofficially, the idea that the hooves and ears could be true frankly scares the crap out of us."

"I'm doing everything in my power to get you more information," said Kevin. "But Mr. Turner is a reluctant patient. He refuses to be examined further."

"Of course he does," said Sandra in a sour voice.

"But if he's indicative of symptoms to come, we're going to have no shortage of others in his condition soon, and I'm worried about how people are going to react."

"One more question for you, Doctor Conner," said Sandra. "During the flu outbreak, did you have any lab tests done to identify the subtype?"

"Once I saw how many people were coming down with it, yes," said Kevin. "All tests came back as H1N1, same variety that was making the rounds this flu season."

"The hospital reported the same."

"You can see my concern if there is a flu link," said Kevin. "H1N1 has had a nasty habit of getting out of control in the past."

"We have two possibilities," said Sandra. "One, we're dealing with some strange variant of influenza. Two, this is a new opportunistic disease that took advantage of depressed immune systems."

"I'd prefer the latter," said Kevin. "The spread would be more limited in scope. With luck, it might have burned itself out already, but I wouldn't bet money on it."

"Still, proving a flu link is going to be difficult beyond simple correlation of symptom timelines," said Sandra. "The CDC has been tracking the influenza spike for the past week. They've already run RT-PCR tests on patients. That test nailed the culprit of the 2009 outbreak. It's showing absolutely no variation from the H1N1 that's been going around for months. In a nutshell: influenza should not be causing this."

"I think it would be both foolish and dangerous to assume no link based on that," said Kevin. "The appearance of both the influenza spike and this new disease is too much of a coincidence for my liking."

"I agree, Doctor Conner, but we need to decide how to best allocate our resources," said Sandra. "So we'll consider this an unknown but potentially infectious disease, and that those who have had the flu may be more susceptible. In the meantime, we're asking physicians to run a new set of influenza tests on patients with this disease. If flu is causing this, there has to be an active infection we can detect."

"I'll start doing that at once," said Kevin. "What about declaring a public health emergency?"

"Our criteria generally rely on both infection rates and estimated lethality. Thus far, we have zero reported deaths from this new influenza spike or from this new condition. However, these new symptoms are unusual enough -- and the possibilities worrisome enough -- that we'll institute one."

"All right," said Kevin. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"It will take another day for an official public response, as we need to coordinate with the Governor's office, law enforcement, and the CDC," said Sandra. "In the meantime, we recommend voluntary self-isolation where feasible to slow its spread."

"That's going to be difficult," said Kevin. "I've seen entire families affected."

"As I said, where feasible. We're also going to ask that you keep statements to the press to a minimum. This is not to censor you or suppress information, this is to allow a coordinated official response to the public to minimize panic."

"You don't have to tell me twice, Doctor Marlowe," said Kevin. "I've been wrestling with the same issue."

"Thank you for both your understanding and your patience, Doctor Conner," said Sandra.

"What about Fred Turner?" said Kevin. "He could prove valuable in determining the extent of this condition, and there's a chance it may have started with him."

"He definitely needs to be isolated in case he's still contagious," said Sandra. "Normally, forcefully isolating someone is an uphill civil rights battle unless he has a disease from a specific list. We generally rely on voluntary isolation, which seems to be the case here. However, this is a very unique case, and his mental state is questionable."

"I'd much rather he be isolated at a medical facility where he can be fully examined," said Kevin. "But I have no legal recourse in that regard."

"But we do, and we're going to push hard for taking him into custody. For now, isolation is most critical."

"What's the chance it will expand into a full isolation of the town?" Kevin asked. "Or quarantine, for that matter?"

"It's on the table," said Sandra. "We're debating the scope right now. Do you have any other questions for me before we conclude this call?"

Kevin rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "No, I think we about covered it."

"I'll touch base with you tomorrow, Doctor Conner," said Sandra.

"Thank you, Doctor Marlowe." Kevin hung up and glanced up at Heather.

Heather uttered a long sigh. "Dare I ask?"

"They're going to declare a public health emergency," said Kevin. "To me, that means they're taking it seriously. How are you holding up?"

Heather smiled humorlessly and turned around. Several streaks of sparkling cyan reached up the back of her head. "If nothing else, at least people have been commenting that it looks nice."

Kevin smiled faintly and stood. "I'm hoping someone will get this figured out."

"Maybe you should hedge your bets," said Heather. "Trade in your medical license for a veterinary license."

Kevin sighed. "That's not really very funny."

"I know, it's gallows humor, but it helps me cope," said Heather. "You better get back to your patient. We have a full docket today and then some."

Author's Notes:

For those interested, some notes on terminology: "Isolation" refers to separating the ill from the healthy, while "quarantine" refers to doing the same to those who are not ill but may have been exposed (and, yes, the police chief used the wrong term). RT-PCR refers to "reverse transcription polymerase chain reaction", a technique which can be used to detect small variations in viruses (among many other things).

Chapter 16 - Revelations

Sunset Glow had tried to put on a brave face for her family, but it had taken only a few minutes with her son and granddaughter for her to break down into tears. Night held a comforting foreleg around his mother, his eyes bleary from having been up for most of the night.

"Sh-she lied to me," Glow moaned. "Right there in the th-throne room, she lied to me, Nighty!"

"I know," Night Light said, his voice quavering.

"I-I don't care what Sunset did. I don't care what mistakes she made. Nothing deserved being made to just disappear like she never existed! I didn't even have a chance to m-mourn for her before I was made to forget her."

Night squeezed his eyes shut. "And now it feels like it all just happened yesterday."

Twilight let out a slow, anguished sigh. She wished she knew the right words to say. She could only look on with an aching heart.

Glow closed her eyes, but tears continued to drip. "It does feel like that. I still can't believe our little Sunny is dead."

Twilight swallowed hard when her throat started to close up. She turned away, only to have her mother's hoof gently touch her shoulder. "I'm all right," Twilight said in a choked voice.

Velvet drew her daughter into a hug. "You don't look all right, Twily."

Twilight drew in a deep breath and let it out as a rattling sigh. "I feel like I caused my whole family such pain just because I wanted to know the truth."

"No, Twilight," said Shimmering as he stepped up to them. "You were just revealing a pain that was already there. Frankly, I ..." He glanced over to his wife, his eyes glistening. "I think this is for the best."

Twilight smiled faintly as she broke off the embrace. "I really hope it will be."

"Make no mistake, right now I'm very angry with Princess Celestia," said Shimmering. "She had no right to do this."

"I'm really hoping there's a good explanation," Twilight said. "Not an excuse, but an explanation. Celestia already realizes she's done the wrong thing."

"Honestly, Twily," said Velvet. "You know I tend not to express any displeasure towards anypony, especially the diarchs, but you would think Princess Celestia would learn by now what happens when she withholds information from you!"

Twilight sighed. "Please, Mom, let's not go there again. Not after all this time."

"I think I have every right to go there," Velvet declared. "I don't care how capable you were at the time, the Princess sent you to deal with her sister who she knew was very dangerous at the time, and giving you very little preparation or information. And that's not the last time she did that. Back when you--"

"Mom, please, stop!" Twilight cried. "I don't want to deal with this right now. I've got enough on my mind as it is."

Velvet sighed and lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, Twily, I'm just at my wits' end right now."

"You're in good company," said Twilight in a low voice. "You're not the only one dealing with memories they never knew they had."

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get that," Twilight said.

Opening the door revealed Starlight Glimmer. "You ready to head over to the palace, Twilight?"

"In a minute," said Twilight. "Please, come in."

Starlight trotted past her but quickly came to a halt. "Um, did I come at a bad time?"

"There really isn't any good time right now," said Twilight.

"Starlight," said Velvet. "Twily told me how much you've been a big help to her in all this. Please accept my thanks."

Starlight blushed. "Oh, um, you're welcome."

Twilight turned towards the others. "I have to go now. I promise, I'll let you know everything I find out. Shining Armor is on his way. He'll be here this afternoon."

Velvet and Night both smiled faintly. "He's welcome to stay in his old room," said Velvet.

"It will be good to see little Shiny again," said Glow. "I hope he's dealing with this better than I am."

"I'm sure he can help everypony deal with this better," said Twilight. She turned to Starlight. "Let's go."

The silence was leaden as Celestia poured tea for her guests. Arranged before her were Luna, Starlight, Spike, Twilight, and Twilight's friends. Celestia looked a bit bleary herself. She glanced at the others and tried not to think that their eyes were those of judgment, that they were merely curious and anxious for her to begin.

Celestia set down the tea kettle. "Twilight, perhaps it would be best if you tell me what memories you now have of Sunset Shimmer."

"I know she was my aunt," said Twilight in a soft voice. "And that she was your student, and she was very powerful. She used to foal-sit me, but my parents insisted she stop when they feared she would be a bad influence on me. It led to an argument between my parents and my grandparents."

"Bad influence?" Rainbow said.

Twilight cast her gaze downward. "She tried to teach me ideas that ... well ... let's just say they weren't very conducive to Harmony when you really took a close look at them. It started with her being a very staunch loyalist of Celestia."

"An' that's bad how?" said Applejack.

"Because she took it to an extreme," said Celestia. "I blame myself for not seeing it, for mistaking it as simple loyalty to me."

Twilight raised her gaze to the others. "She thought Celestia's reach should extend over the whole world. She thought all sapient species should be ruled by her."

Fluttershy flicked her gaze over to Celestia. "Um, but Princess Celestia has always been a benevolent ruler. How would that be bad? I mean, assuming they did it willingly."

Rarity's eyes widened. "Unless she didn't care about their willingness! Did Sunset advocate war to achieve this aim?"

"Of Sunset's failings, advocating bloodshed was not among them," said Celestia. "If anything, she abhorred violence in any form. Perhaps her desire to see my rule extended over other lands would not be so upsetting if it were not part of a greater and more disturbing belief. Do you remember now, Twilight?"

"I remember," Twilight said quietly. "Though at the time I thought it innocent enough. It's only when I take a step back that I can see the implications."

"So what did she tell ya that was so bad?" Applejack asked.

Twilight's eyes glistening slightly. "She kept telling me how grateful we should be to be ponies, and how lucky we were to have somepony like Celestia to rule us."

After an exchange of confused glances, Rarity spoke up. "I'm sorry, but I'm not really seeing the problem. I'm sure there are many ponies who believe as such."

"I've always been grateful for Princess Celestia's rule," said Fluttershy.

"That was not all she told you, was it, Twilight?" Celestia asked in a somber voice.

Twilight shook her head slowly. "She went on to suggest that it would be better if she had more ponies under her rule. She implied that an entire world of ponies, all loyal to Celestia, would be an ideal situation."

"But what in tarnation does that actually mean?" said Applejack.

"It appeared she thought ponies better than other species," said Celestia.

Applejack exchanged a confused look with the others. "Ya mean how we can do some kinds of magic that they can't? That sorta thing?"

"I suspect it runs deeper than that," said Luna. "My sister and I remember a time when the pony tribes were still at odds with one another. Each thought themselves superior -- physically, mentally, and morally -- to the other tribes."

"But that kind of thinking was tossed out a long time ago!" Pinkie said.

"As it should be," said Celestia. "Which is why I am still mystified as to how Sunset obtained this belief. She did not get it from me, nor her instructors, and certainly not from her family."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Are ya sure somepony didn't make an honest mistake? Did she ever come out and say ponies were better?"

"No, she never did," said Twilight. "But that was what I started to form in my own head the more I listened to her."

"Come on, Twi, you'd never believe something like that!" Rainbow declared.

"You don't understand, Rainbow," said Twilight in a soft voice. "I was very young and impressionable at the time. I remember how absolutely enthralling it was to listen to her. I idolized her. I would believe almost anything she told me by that point."

Rarity gasped. "And now that you remember those beliefs, does that mean you're in danger of--"

"No," said Twilight firmly. Spike smiled at her, and she wrapped a wing around him, drawing him close. "The idea of friendship -- across all species -- is too firmly ingrained in me for a set of childhood memories to change that. But it's scary to think how I might have turned out if things had gone differently. Would I have treated Spike badly because he was a dragon?"

"Aw, I can't see any version of you ever doing that," said Spike.

Twilight's eyes misted, and she hugged Spike tightly.

"Now you see one reason why I wiped memories as well as documentation on her, Twilight," said Celestia in a heavy voice. "When I sensed the incredible potential in you, I worried that these beliefs would taint you, and you'd make the same mistakes Sunset made."

Applejack frowned. "It still don't seem right ta mess with ponies' heads."

"If I had to do this over again, Applejack, I would find another way," said Celestia. "But I'm not here to excuse my actions, merely explain them. And there are other reasons I had done what I did."

"An' nopony had a clue she believed this stuff?"

"It is I who should have seen it first," said Celestia. "But I was blinded by my faith in her. She was truly a most capable unicorn. Like Twilight, she had discovered the so-called legend of Nightmare Moon and the existence of the Elements of Harmony."

Twilight's eyes widened. "She had??"

Celestia turned to Twilight. "Indeed. She even pressed me about the issue, even when I tried to defer. She was simply too forceful to be dissuaded." She paused. "No slight is intended, Twilight, but the fact of the matter is ... well ... Sunset was simply more assertive than you were."

Twilight smiled. "It's okay. I believe everything happened as it had to."

"Yes, it did, since I had lost my connection to the Elements by that time," said Celestia. "This was not something I would admit to Sunset, even though by then I had already foreseen that other bearers would be needed." She smiled faintly. "At the time, I was sure Sunset would be the future bearer of the Element of Magic, but that was not something I could reveal to her. I felt it was too early."

"What I don't understand is how the rest of my family never knew," said Twilight. "If she always had these beliefs, surely they would have come out sooner."

"It is puzzling, as the seeds were likely planted rather early," said Celestia. "As you stated, she believed my rule should extend into other lands, and she debated me on that point rather vigorously several times." She smiled. "Among all her other talents, she was an excellent debater, so much so that she managed to sway me just once."

"How did she do that?" Starlight asked.

"She prodded me into commencing with a final treaty with the minotaurs, as well as seeking an alliance with the Caribou Nation."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Those are two of the most famous treaties in recent history!"

Celestia smiled wanly. "Yes, and you have your aunt to thank for that. The minotaurs were already fairly ubiquitous in our society, having mass-emigrated here when the water sources in their homeland dried up. Having them swear fealty to the Crown took little effort. Sunset was immensely pleased, at least at first."

"At first?" said Starlight.

"I believe she expected more," said Celestia. "She wanted full integration of the caribous into Equestria, for one, but I knew they were too independent-minded for that. She eventually saw the integration of the minotaurs as 'not enough'."

"Not enough of what?" Starlight prompted.

"She wouldn't give me more explanation than that, other than what I had thought at the time to be an off-hoof comment. She had said 'this would be so much better if they were all ponies.'"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "And that didn't convince you that her beliefs were kinda out there?"

"Not yet," said Celestia. "It was only later I put it all together. Instead, at the time, I thought she had referred to the clash of cultures. Minotaur ways were not pony ways. There was some lingering friction that took time to smooth out."

"So can we cut to the chase?" said Starlight. "What exactly did Sunset do that was so bad? It couldn't be just her beliefs. You didn't go wiping me out of existence because of my crazy ideas about giving up cutie marks."

Celestia smiled. "You, dear Starlight, had the good fortune to be shown another way by somepony whose dedication to friendship and harmony is unparalleled."

Twilight blushed but smiled.

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "And, apparently, she is more accomplished than I."

"You mean you never turned Sunset around?" asked Pinkie in a sad voice.

"I tried. I always kept my heart open to her, but she had closed hers to me." Celestia paused. "But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me come back to Starlight's question, as it deserves an answer."

"Though I can guess this is where the griffons come in," said Luna.

"Yes, indeed. After Sunset's apparent disappointment over the minotaurs, I had come to the conclusion that Sunset simply needed more exposure to other cultures so she would truly understand my perspective. At the time, the griffons were going through a downturn, and I felt this was an opportunity for both them and Sunset. I thus opened formal diplomatic relations. To my delight, Sunset jumped at the chance to be assigned as an envoy."

"She must be the one Gilda mentioned," said Rainbow. "But nopony remembered her name."

"That was due to the dark magic spell," said Twilight. "But the fact that anypony could remember there had been an envoy at all meant the spell was already starting to fray."

"Sunset's enthusiasm both surprised and pleased me, even after I explained to her that she was to seek alliance and not annexation," said Celestia. "Since it dovetailed perfectly into signs I had seen that this was the direction Sunset needed to go, I felt I had made the right decision."

"What kind of signs?" Twilight asked.

Celestia hesitated. "Let me come back to that later, please. It is best you understand what happened first."

"Lemme guess," said Applejack. "Sunset got under the griffons' skin somethin' fierce."

"That's not real hard to do," Rainbow murmured.

"Things did go more slowly than I would have liked," said Celestia. "Yet Sunset seemed to be immersing herself in their culture as I had hoped. I had believed she simply needed more time."

Starlight frowned. "Or she was trying to justify her beliefs by finding more reasons to think ponies were better than griffons."

Celestia sighed. "That is exactly what I suspect happened, but I had no idea at the time."

"This here still ain't addin' up fer me," said Applejack. "Sounds like a lotta assumptions were bein' made."

"Then let me get to the heart of the matter," said Celestia. "As my concern over the situation with the griffons grew, Sunset finally approached me and stated that she had a plan to smooth things over and make the griffons our staunchest allies. When I had asked her what she had planned, she asked me to simply trust her." She paused. "Which I did."

"You accepted her idea sight unseen?" Twilight asked.

"Realize that by this time, she was quite advanced in her studies and had done nothing to suggest she had anything untoward in mind. I had little trouble in putting my continued faith in her." Celestia lowered her gaze. "I wish I had inquired further."

"Is this where her research into transformation magic comes in?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," said Applejack. "What does that hafta do with anythin'?"

Twilight turned to her. "Aunt Sunset was attempting to craft a permanent transformation spell. Given her beliefs, I think she wanted to transform the griffons into ponies."

"That's exactly what she was planning," said Celestia.

"But what I don't understand is how she planned to deliver the magic," said Twilight. "How did she overcome the problem of morphic resonance?"

Celestia paced across the room. "What I am about to reveal, please be very judicious as to whom you inform, at least until this crisis is over."

Twilight hesitated, but then nodded. "Very well."

The others nodded in agreement as well.

Celestia took a deep breath. "Sunset planned to deliver her spell by utilizing a virus."

Starlight blinked. "A what?!"

"Of course!" Twilight said. "Why didn't I think of that? It's the perfect vector!"

"Oh, come on!" Starlight cried. "Trying to use something so small--!"

"--would just be another challenge to somepony as talented as Aunt Sunset," Twilight declared. "I can already think of several ways that--"

"Ah, not to sound ungrateful, darling," said Rarity. "But could you explain it to those of us not as versed in such matters?"

"Without seeing her research, I can only make an educated guess," said Twilight. "The problem facing permanent transformation is the morphic resonance. That's a biomagical signature that defines what you are. The amount of magic needed to overcome it would normally kill the creature. Now, a virus works by injecting its genetic code into a cell and forcing it to replicate the virus. That's how you get sick with, say, pony pox. Sunset found a way to latch her spell onto a virus. My speculation is that as the virus replicated, so would the magic, which could be applied to changing the morphic resonance itself, effectively transforming the creature from the inside out. Moreover, the virus would spread, and hence the spell, to other creatures. It's like casting a spell once and having it replicate as much as needed. It's brilliant!" She paused and blushed. "Er ... terrible, but still brilliant."

"How did she plan to deliver this virus?" said Starlight.

"She planned to build a magical device," Celestia explained. "It would seek out a naturally occurring virus and apply her spell to it."

"And that's where the portal come in," declared Twilight.

"A portal?" said Rainbow. "What portal?"

"A portal that connects two widely separated points in space," Twilight explained. "It has longer range than teleportation. That's the anomaly in the building along Old Canterlot Way. It's the remains of a portal that Aunt Sunset had planned to use to deliver her device into the midst of the Griffon Kingdom."

Celestia paced again. "You are correct in your assessment of the anomaly, but not in the order of events. She did not start working on the portal -- in secret -- until later."

"So she didn't plan to use the portal to deliver the device?" Starlight asked.

"Sunset was still the envoy to the griffons," said Celestia. "She had no reason for subterfuge. In fact, she had crafted the device to appear as artwork that she intended to give to the griffons as a token of friendship, thus smoothing over relations in the short term until the virus had a chance to take hold."

"The implications of this are staggering," said Luna. "If it sought a common virus in the environment, it could be used against other species."

Spike's eyes widened. "You mean she could change dragons into ponies, too??"

"Nothing says that she could not," said Celestia. "And this was likely her plan if I had not stopped her. When I discovered what she had intended to do, I was ... shocked. Utterly shocked. If I had not seen her research for myself, I would not have believed it. I was forced to confront her. I demanded to know what her motivations were."

"Is this where she finally owned up to her beliefs?" asked Applejack.

Celestia turned to face her. She took a shuddering breath. "What she said I will never forget. She said: I did this to give you a better world, a world with all the ponies you need, all the ponies you deserve, a world in which nothing can touch you, nothing can hurt you, nopony can stand against you."

Twilight's ears drooped slightly, and her eyes took on a troubled look.

"That is the ultimate tragedy. Everything she did, and everything she planned to do was to further my glory." Celestia turned to Twilight. "Do you remember when you had your first meal with me as my student, Twilight?"

Twilight's ears rose, and she slowly smiled. "How could I forget? I was so nervous, it was like I had four left hooves."

Celestia smiled. "You tried to bow."

"And fell right on my muzzle. I don't think I ever blushed so hard in my life."

The others chuckled.

"What did I tell you then?" asked Celestia.

"That I never had to bow to you in private." Twilight's smile widened. "And not because I was so bad at it."

"I never wanted our relationship to be excessively formal," said Celestia. "That is a mistake I made with Sunset. I let protocol rule the day. She bowed to me even in private and even after she had developed a rapport with me."

"That's what I treasure most of all about our time together as teacher and student," said Twilight. "You were so approachable, despite my nervousness."

"You did look up to me, though," said Celestia. "Sometimes, you put me on a pedestal."

"Sometimes, but I got past that."

"You even idolized me."

Twilight nodded. "Yes, I did."

"But what you never did, Twilight, was worship me," said Celestia. "Sunset worshiped me. I later found a room in her residence that she had made into what can only be described as a shrine to me." She turned to the others. "Worship is something I do not want from anypony. I do not deserve it, and it makes ponies do things they normally would not think of doing, all in my name."

"I wanted worship once," said Luna in a somber voice. "And we all saw how that turned out."

"For the better in the end, dear sister," said Celestia. "I wished the same could have been said for Sunset. I naturally forbid Sunset from continuing her research, and I withdrew her as envoy to the griffons."

"Bet that didn't go over well," muttered Starlight.

"It did not. She continued her studies with me, but she became cool towards me, and cold and calculating towards others. Despite what she had almost done, I wanted to give her another chance, but she withdrew completely. She felt like I had utterly betrayed her." Celestia paused. "And against my wishes, she completed her research."

Twilight gasped. "She did? Did it even work?!"

Celestia's eyes burned. "She tested it on a young female griffon she kidnapped and successfully turned her into a pegasus filly. I did not find out what she had done until word of it somehow got back to the griffons. They were enraged. They threatened war immediately."

"Um, not that I think a war would've been a good thing," said Rainbow cautiously. "But Gilda said there was no way they could've stood up against Equestria."

"That is not the point," said Luna. "Just the idea that they felt they had been wronged enough by Equestria to declare war would have drawn attention from other nations."

"And they would have spread word of what Sunset had done," said Celestia. "And those who until then lived without a single worry that Equestria had designs on them would wonder if we had been lying all along, waiting for a chance to strike in a way they could not combat. They would fear that Sunset's beliefs were shared by me, or by ponykind in general. It is not that we would fail to prevail in such wars -- though the devastation that could be wrought by dragonkind makes me shudder -- it is that war is not the Equestrian way. It never has and never will be."

"Sorry to keep beatin' the point to death," said Applejack. "But could ya have explained it ta them?"

"Perhaps I could have," said Celestia in a despondent voice. "But all I could think of was that Sunset had introduced something that this world had never seen before and hopefully will never see again: the concept of biological warfare. Even if I had managed to placate them, I felt it would only be a matter of time before an arms race began to counter this terrible Equestrian 'weapon.'"

"Is that why the final treaty with the griffons was sealed?" Twilight asked.

"Yes," said Celestia. "Publicly, we never announced the true reason for the sudden bad relations. The treaty contained a secret clause, one which stipulated that I find a way to excise all knowledge of the magic behind Sunset's spell. I soon discovered to my chagrin that there was no partial way to do it. If I left anything behind, somepony could recreate her research, and the griffons knew this. Equestria would always be under their suspicious eyes. Worse, this left us open to blackmail were an opportunistic leader to take the throne."

Starlight's eyes widened. "So you erased everything about her? Even the griffons' own memories?"

"As I said, it was everything or nothing," said Celestia. "I thus had to wipe even their memory of that secret clause. Instead, the treaty simply became a means to smooth over the actions of an irritating envoy."

Twilight let out a shaky sigh. "I am so glad now that I hadn't tried to unravel the spell myself. I had planned to be careful, but if I had accidentally unraveled the entirety of that spell--"

Celestia nodded. "The griffons would likely be readying for war as we speak."

"But everything Dashie and I helped them with!" Pinkie said. "Wouldn't they consider that?"

Rainbow Dash rubbed a hoof through her mane. "Uh, hate to break this to you, Pinkie, but griffons are kinda notorious for holding grudges for a looong time."

Starlight held up a hoof. "Uh, hold on, there's something missing here. You couldn't have erased her existence before she was gone, could you? I mean, did she actually, well, die?"

Celestia paused a moment, her eyes tearing briefly. "Yes, she did die."

"I remember that," said Twilight in a hushed voice. "My grandparents came over one night, right after I had gone to bed. I was still awake. I was excited at first, thinking maybe my parents would get me up so I could say hi to them." She paused for a long moment. "Then I heard the crying. That was the first time I ever, ever heard my father cry. I was really scared. It could only be the end of the world. Just as I was about to leave my room, my mother came in and broke the news to me." Twilight swallowed. "I don't think I stopped bawling for something like an hour."

Spike gently placed a claw on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Twilight. I wish I had been there to help you."

Twilight swept him up into a tight hug and sniffled once.

Celestia swallowed. "If you must lay blame, Twilight, lay it squarely at my hooves. It was my failings and my foolishness that led us to this end."

"No, Celestia," said Twilight firmly. "I don't want to blame anypony. I just want to understand."

"You are not blameless, Tia," said Luna. "But neither are you the sole blame."

"Princess, ya can teach the young 'uns only so much," said Applejack. "It's up ta them if they listen to ya or not."

"Ponies choose to do stupid things all the time," said Starlight. "Believe me, if anypony knows that, it's me."

Celestia slowly smiled. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support, my little ponies. But to Twilight's point, let me conclude this tale. When the griffons threatened war, news eventually got back to Sunset's family of what she had been doing, though it was somewhat short on specifics. Sunset became a recluse, holing up in her residence on Old Canterlot Way."

"I don't remember that part," said Twilight. "I do remember the family becoming really tense. I knew something had happened, but they shielded me from the details, probably because they knew how much I looked up to Sunset."

"And that was when I discovered her other project," said Celestia.

"The portal," said Twilight.

"She kept it hidden from me. That was a prodigious task, and I admit to still feeling proud of her for that."

"Let me guess," said Starlight. "She was trying to bypass you and deliver her 'care package' to the griffons via a portal."

Celestia was quiet for a long moment, and her eyes became troubled. "Not quite."

"Wait, what?" said Twilight.

All eyes were on Celestia as she started to pace. "Your conclusion, Starlight Glimmer, is exactly the one I came to until I really studied the energies she was wielding. She was not seeking to open a portal to another part of Equestria, she was seeking to open a portal to another universe."

"Say what?!" Rainbow cried.

"Starswirl the Bearded did postulate about the existence of other universes," said Twilight. "But he was never able to prove it."

Celestia turned to her. "What else do you know of Starswirl's theories in this area?"

"Well, he theorized that there is a metaverse which is the ultimate source of all magic, and multiple universes are connected to this source. He further reasoned that when their connections to this magic source overlapped, it could bridge the gap between two universes."

Celestia smiled. "Very good."

"But he never went anywhere with it," said Twilight. "The odds of two universes becoming connected in that manner are so astronomically small there's almost no point in waiting for it to happen."

"Yet when it does happen, it is most fortuitous," said Celestia. "And it did happen. Twice."

Twilight's mouth dropped open. "Why have I not heard of this?!"

"I had known of the first incident," said Luna. "But not the second."

"That is because the second time it happened was about seven centuries ago, Luna, while you were still on the moon," said Celestia. "The first time was over a millennium before that. There are good records of both incidents, but I had them sealed. I will, of course, make them available to you, Twilight."

"Can you tell us what connection this has to Sunset and her research?" Starlight asked.

"Seven hundred years ago, during the second time that a connection appeared on its own between the worlds, several unicorn mages were able to prop open the temporary portal and thus keep it going longer," said Celestia. "Their research into the mechanics of the portal led Sunset to believe she could craft her own."

"Yes, of course," said Twilight. "The same knowledge that could be put towards opening a portal to another part of this world could be turned to that, but maintaining stability would be a huge feat even for Sunset."

Celestia gave her a sad look. "And that, Twilight, is what led to her demise."

"Wh-what happened?" Fluttershy said in a tiny voice.

"When I discovered what she was doing, I had to assume the worst," said Celestia. "You see, the inhabitants of this other world cannot wield magic."

Starlight blinked. "No magic??"

"I could not let her loose in a world that would be defenseless against her. I rushed to confront her, but rather than let me stop her, she attempted to go through her portal before it was stable." Her voice quavered. "Before I ever got to her lab, I h-heard the terrible scream." Her eyes glistened. "When I got there ... she was gone ... and all the blood ..."

Celestia took a shuddering breath and turned away from the others. Luna stepped up to her and draped a foreleg around her barrel.

Starlight swallowed, her pupils shrunk. "The portal cr-crushed her?"

Fluttershy paled.

"The floor was also covered in shards that were part of her virus-altering device," said Celestia in a quaking voice. "She had every intention of taking it through with her to the other world."

Twilight was quiet for a long moment. "Celestia, I know this is hard for you, but ... can you please tell me what's happening with the anomaly now?"

Celestia smiled her appreciation to her sister before turning around. "When a portal closes, the energies take a long time to completely dissipate. The connection does not sever so much as drift away. The second time a portal opened on its own, it took five years for the energies to fade. They're visible only in the magical spectrum. Sunset's portal, because of the large amount of energy she imparted into it, would take forty years to completely dissipate."

"So you sealed the building," said Starlight. "And made everypony forget about it until the energy dissipated."

"Except it's not dissipating," said Celestia. "Now it's surging again, and I don't know why."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Princess," said Applejack with a frown. "But why in tarnation didn't ya go ta Twilight fer help in the first place? Ya think ya woulda learned yer lesson by now!"

"Applejack!" Rarity cried, aghast. "Your manners!"

"I'm the Element of Honesty, Rarity. I ain't the Element of Sparin' Yer Feelings When Yer Doin' Somethin' Dumb."

"But still, a little sympathy is in order. The Princess had to watch her beloved student die."

"I unnerstand that," said Applejack in a lower voice. "I'm the last one to ever wish that on somepony. But it's been twenty dang years! She couldn't confide in Twilight about this all that time?"

"I'll be perfectly honest, Celestia," said Twilight. "I'm upset that you didn't trust me. That ... that hurts. More than I think the revelation of having my memories altered would have."

Celestia stepped up to Twilight. "Everypony is right to upset with me, but you most of all. I won't beg forgiveness from you, Twilight."

"You don't have to," Twilight said softly. "You already have it."

"Same here, Princess," said Applejack. "An' I'm pretty sure that goes fer everypony here. It don't make no sense to carry a grudge."

A chorus of agreement rose from the other ponies. A teary-eye Celestia smiled warmly at them. "You all make me very proud and humble at the same time. Thank you."

Twilight frowned. "But one thing I can't forget, Celestia, is how this made me feel like I had to treat you as the enemy. And in my mind, that could only mean that you thought I was your enemy."

"Twilight, I never once thought--" Celestia began.

"Let me finish."

Celestia fell silent, her eyes glistening.

"It doesn't matter whether it was true or not," said Twilight. "I know it's not true. I can get over that. Eventually. But what's harder to get over is how your actions said I don't need or want your help, Twilight!"

Celestia lowered her head.

"You always came to me for help," Twilight continued. "You did it with Nightmare Moon, you did it with Discord, and you did it with Sombra! And when Tirek got out of control, you trusted me with all your magic! All I could think is that you didn't come to me with this because of something I did wrong!"

"It was never that," said Celestia in a choked voice.

"If you had come to me about this, if you had told me the truth from the start, yes, I would've been very upset with you for blocking my family's memories, but it would've been mitigated by the fact that you trusted me to see past that and help you with this situation. You violated that trust, Celestia, and it will take me some time to get over that, and ... I can't speak for how the rest of my family will react. I hope in time they'll come to understand, but it won't change the fact that Aunt Sunset is gone."

Celestia slowly lifted her head and blinked away tears. "Nopony regrets that fact more than I do."

Twilight stood. "I need to get back to my family. Spike, Starlight, you're both welcome to come along." She turned to her friends. "I'd invite all of you, but I think I want to restrict this to just those close to the family."

"We understand, Twilight," said Fluttershy with a soft smile.

"We'll be hangin' out in Canterlot fer a spell if ya need us," said Applejack.

Starlight blinked. "Wait. Me? Close to the family?"

Twilight smiled. "What can I say? My parents have taken quite a liking to you."

Starlight's eyes widened. "They have??"

"Don't be so surprised, Starlight," said Luna. "You can be a very likable pony when you want to be."

Starlight blushed. "Um, thank you ... I think."

The others chuckled briefly, the gravity of situation dampening their mirth. Twilight turned away from the others. "Come on, let's go. My family will be anxious to hear some of what happened here."

"Before you go, Twilight," said Celestia. Her horn glowed, and she levitated a book into view, the spell anchor with Sunset's cutie mark on it. "I removed all obscuring magic from this book. You will want to look at it."

Twilight took it in her magic. "What is it?"

"The last journal Sunset ever kept of her research into portal mechanics. I don't know how much use it will be to you given its damaged state."

Twilight opened the cover, only to find many of the pages partially burned. "What happened to it?"

"Sunset burned all her research notes just before heading through the portal," explained Celestia. "I was able to salvage just one, and even then, I had to replace the cover. Perhaps I was foolish to want a memento."

Twilight closed the book. "Any bit of information can be of help. Thank you. I'll treat this book with the utmost care."

Starlight and Spike fell into step on either side of her as Twilight entered the hall. "So, um, what now?" said Starlight. "I mean, after you've dealt with your family."

"We need to do two things as soon as possible," said Twilight. "First, gather any data that was ever recorded about those past portals and see if we can use it to fill in the gaps in Aunt Sunset's journal. Second, we need an up-close look at that anomaly and see if we can figure out why the energy is increasing."

"Do you think the natives of that other world could be trying to open it themselves?" said Starlight.

"I don't see how," said Spike. "Not if they don't have magic."

"But that's ridiculous! How can they not have magic? How would their world function without it? How would they even live without it?"

Twilight considered. "We should also study any data about the natives themselves. If there is energy radiating from that portal, it has to be coming from somewhere, and the other end of the portal is a possibility."

Starlight sighed as she looked at the partially burnt book. "I wish more of her journals had survived."

"Yes, I know, we really have our work cut out for us," said Twilight. "But there's something else. As much as I feel Celestia was telling us the truth, something seems off."

"What do you mean?"

"Aunt Sunset's extreme beliefs. Why did nopony notice it before then?"

Starlight shrugged. "She was good at keeping it to herself?"

"But in all her debates with Celestia, it didn't come out even once?" said Twilight. "There's something we're missing, maybe something Celestia missed as well."

"But does it matter?" said Starlight. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but, well, Sunset is gone."

Twilight sighed, her ears drooping. "Maybe I just don't want to believe that a member of my family could act that way. Still, maybe we'll get lucky and find some more personal information on her. But before we do anything, I have to see how my family is holding up."

Chapter 17 - Worry

Later that Friday morning, Sarah stared at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Two pumpkin-orange eyes stared back.

"You all right?" came a voice at the door.

Sarah rubbed her aching tail bone and turned her head towards her husband. "I'm fine."

"You still look a little pale."

Sarah turned away from the mirror. "I don't know why I reacted so badly earlier. Laura didn't have that strong an aversion to the smell of cooking meat at this point."

"Well, the sausages do smell kind of strong when they're frying," said Harold.

"You may have to take over part of the cooking for now," said Sarah. "I'd consider just dropping meat from the menu completely, but I don't want to deprive those who can still eat it."

"At least for as long as they can," Harold murmured.

"I feel most sorry for you. You love steak so much."

"Not that we've been able to afford it lately, so maybe it kind of works out."

"I wish I could look on the bright side of things as much as you do."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "Not so much looking on the bright side as being practical."

Sarah glanced at herself in the mirror. "And me wanting to leave town is not practical," she said in a flat voice.

"I never said that."

"Not directly." Sarah stepped closer to her husband. "You're right, anyway. It's not practical."

"My point is that any place is as good as any other," said Harold. "Yeah, okay, I found out that was wrong about a hospital turning us away. I feel stupid about that."

Sarah shook her head and stepped past Harold into the hallway. "It's fine, you had a lot of other good reasons."

Harold stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "If I thought going somewhere else would help, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd do anything to figure this out."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I know why I wanted to leave town. I wanted to run away from the problem. That's all I have been doing. I've been running away from all of our problems."

Harold gently squeezed her shoulders. "Sarah, stop."

"It's true. I run off to digs whenever I feel pressured by family. I immerse myself in my career and let you handle the children."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," said Harold.

Sarah turned to face him. "But you've seen it, too. You've all but come out and said that I inject too much of my career into family matters."

"Maybe I have said stuff like that before," said Harold. "But what happened that's made you start worrying about it so much?"

Sarah hesitated. "It's Laura. I put too much responsibility in her hands."

Harold gave her a perplexed look. "How do you figure that?"

"Look what I did concerning Jenny! Instead of dealing with her issues myself, I foisted her off on Laura. I didn't consider how Laura might feel. I made the assumption that she'd keep being the good little responsible daughter. I didn't even stop to ask if I was imposing on her."

"I did wonder why you changed what we had originally agreed upon for Jenny's punishment," said Harold in a delicate voice.

"I felt that grounding her was a lame punishment considering what she had done," said Sarah. "But what I came up with was worse. I should be the one supervising her, not Laura."

"Or you could've asked me to do it."

"I didn't want to take you away from trying to connect with Bob. That's important to you."

"Except Bob doesn't want to connect with me, so it's a moot point," said Harold.

"Regardless, this should be my responsibility," said Sarah. "It took Laura crying her eyes out when she woke up with a tail to make me realize that. Even then, I was so proud of her for insisting on going to school anyway! She needed comforting more than she needed to be responsible."

"I think you're mistaking a coping mechanism for a problem," said Harold. "Ever since that tornado years ago, she's ... hang on a sec." He pulled out his vibrating cell phone from his shirt pocket and stared. "The hell?"

"What is it?"

"It's ... it's my Dad."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Well, answer it, for God's sake!"

Harold turned away from Sarah and thumbed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear as he retreated into his office. "Uh, hello?"

"Son," said a deadpan voice at the other end of the line.

Harold's hand tightened around the phone as he closed the door to his office. The single syllable seemed to settle around his shoulders like a lead weight as he fell into his chair. "Hi, Dad," Harold said in a neutral voice.

"I'm gonna get right to the point," said George Tanner. "You gotta get out here."

Harold shielded his eyes with his hand. "We've been over this, and if you had actually read my last letter--"

"Just shut up for two seconds and listen to your father."

Harold's jaw tightened. "Fine. What is it?"

When George spoke again after a pause, his voice was less combative. "Your sister Mary is down with the flu. So are most of the hired hands. I got almost no one here."

"Did Mary tell you anything about the last time we talked?"

"Yeah, she did," George said in a wary voice. "What of it?"

"Did she tell you that I'm dealing with a situation concerning my family?"

"What, you mean that stupid hair thing?"

Harold frowned. "It's a lot worse that that."

"Then why the hell hasn't there been shit about it on TV?"

"It's all over the internet," Harold said.

"Maybe I'm a little dumb when it comes to using computers, but I'm smart enough to steer clear of that porn-infested cesspool."

"There has to be something about it on the news!" Harold exclaimed.

George paused. "Maybe there was a bit piece on it," he said in a lower voice. "But all they can talk about is the damn flu, and I don't need some dumb blond reading a teleprompter to inform me about that."

"Then I guess it just hasn't made the big news yet," said Harold in exasperation.

"Uh-huh. Tell me another one."

"Dad--"

"No, you listen to me, son," George declared. "If I don't get people here helpin' me, this farm is gonna go under."

"So is that the only reason you called me after refusing my calls and returning my letters?" Harold said. "To beg for help?"

"I'm not begging!" George thundered. "A Tanner man doesn't beg! I'm remindin' you of your responsibility."

Harold ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm not asking for much," George said. "Two weeks, three tops. Mary will be back on her feet by then, and so will most of the hired hands. If I don't come down with this flu crap myself, that is."

"You're asking for more than you think," said Harold in a low voice.

"You telling me you've gone so soft you can't handle an honest day's work?"

"That's not what I mean."

"Then explain it to your poor country hick of a father."

Harold forced himself to remain calm. Blowing up at his father was not going to get him anywhere. Could he trust what George was telling him? Was his father really in such dire straits, or was this just another sympathy ploy?

Harold glanced at the returned letter, his teeth grinding. He had tried to explain everything in that missive, how he was still dealing with lingering guilt over leaving the farm years ago, and that returning for even a short time would not help. He wondered now if it had been a lost cause from the start; his father was not stupid, but his view of the world was simplistic.

Harold knew he had to take that step eventually, and under other circumstances, this would be an opportunity. He could claim he had to go, simply because he didn't want to see his father's farm fail. "Dad, almost my whole family here is affected by this. We don't even know how far it's going to progress or what it's going to do to us."

"How the hell is a change in damn hair color--"

"I told you, it's more than that!" Harold curled his fingers into his blue hair. "I'm affected by this as well. I have no idea what kind of shape I'll be in to do any work after I'm out there."

Harold shuddered as he realized he could not look into the future as far as a week and make any definitive statement about the well-being of his family.

"You don't sound sick to me," George said.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to leave my family in a lurch like this."

"Why the hell not? You did it before. What's one more time?"

"This is not the same situation, not by a long shot."

"If you're so worried about your family," said George. "Then bring them with you. I don't have a lot of room here, but if they bring camping gear, they can make do."

His heart ached as he thought of Laura. From colored hair to a tail in only a week. What was going to happen to her tomorrow? Or next week? "I'm sorry. I just can't do it."

"Son, don't abandon your father again."

If the statement had come with the vitriol which usually accompanied it, Harold would have been justified in telling his father off. Instead, it had come as a soft plea.

Yet didn't George still have neighbors? Surely the other farms and ranches had people to spare. Or was his father still too proud and stubborn to ask for that sort of help? Harold tried to tell himself what Sarah would say: his father's attitudes were not his problem.

"Dad," Harold said in a soft voice. "If things were different, if I even knew what my kids were going to look like in the morning, I'd--"

"What the hell are you talking about?" George demanded.

Harold wanted to believe he sensed some genuine concern behind the incredulity. "Laura is worst off. She has a tail."

"A what?"

"A tail," said Harold. "And a person who got this before her may have some sort of ... of animal ears. That means it could happen to Laura next. We--"

"What kind of shit is this?!" George shouted. "If you're gonna make up some excuse not to help me, at least make it believable! What kind of fool do you take me for?!"

"I wish I were making this up!" Harold snapped. "I'd love to wake up in the morning and find out this was some sort of gag and that everything is back to normal."

"I should've known this was useless," George grumbled. "And you know what? If you're not gonna be a proper son, you're useless, too."

The line went dead.

Harold clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. The plastic of the cell phone casing made a slight crackling noise as his trembling hand gripped it like a vise until he forced himself to relent. He stared at the cell phone for a long moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

Harold clenched a hand into a fist and resisted the urge to bring it crashing down on the top of his desk. He instead set it down with only a dull thump. "I am not useless," he murmured, but he had only to reflect on what was happening to his family to rattle his confidence in that statement.

He took a deep breath and bolted out of his chair and into the hall. Sarah emerged from her office. "Harry? Are you okay? I heard you yelling--"

"I need to go out," Harold said in a curt voice. "I need to clear my head."

"Can I come with you?"

Harold's first instinct was to refuse, but he cast that to the wayside when he saw the pleading look in her eyes. "Sure," he said in a softer voice. "I guess we could both use some air."

Heather paused a moment to steel herself before picking up the phone. "Doctor Conner's office, please hold," she repeated several times as she cycled through each incoming line before returning to the first. "Thank you for waiting. What can I do for you?"

A nervous male voice answered, "You can tell me what's really going on with old man Turner."

Heather assumed her best diplomatic voice. "If you're referring to Mr. Fred Turner, that's not information I can give you."

"The news is all over town! Why can't you just tell me if it's true?!"

"Sir, regardless of what you may or may not have heard, I cannot release medical data on other patients without proper authorization."

"They're calling him 'horse-man' Turner. Is that what he really looks like?"

Heather hesitated as compassion warred with protocol in her head. "Once again, I cannot comment on another patient's condition. HIPAA regulations are very clear on this point."

"Oh, to hell with regulations! I have two boys with tails. My wife is getting frantic."

"I am truly sorry to hear that, sir, but--"

"Can you at least tell me what to expect?" said the man, his voice now more pleading than angry. "Are ... a-are they actually going to get hooves??"

"We are still trying to figure this out. We cannot make any definitive statements on the course of this condition." Heather had made it a point since these calls started to be careful with her terminology. Despite the state referring to it as a "disease," she specifically used more innocuous sounding words like "condition."

"But it is going to get much worse, isn't it?"

"We don't know that."

"Then why would the police start enforcing a curfew? Do they know something we don't? Do you??"

Heather let out a sigh through her nose and hoped it didn't get picked up over the phone. "You know as much as we do at this point."

"Can you at least tell me what's okay to feed the boys?" the man said. "They can't eat meat anymore. One of them tried a bit of chicken last night and just barfed it back up. I don't want to risk poisoning them!"

"Doctor Conner's recommendation is not to feed them anything they have a strong aversion to. Most patients with meat aversion report being able to eat eggs and cheese so long as they didn't have any existing allergies or intolerance. Besides dietary advice, we can also help patients choose mineral supplements to make up for any other losses. That's all we can do right now."

"This is just so confusing. They don't even feel sick. None of us do."

Heather tugged one of her own crystal cyan curls into view before saying in a softer voice, "That's something you can focus on now. Other than these odd symptoms, everyone with this seems to be healthy in most other respects."

The man sighed. "It's just hard to talk to my wife about this when she keeps asking what we should do to fix this or stop it."

"The best thing you can do right now is to remain calm. There's no need for panic. We have physicians at the state level looking into this intently. They've promised us help."

"I really hope that help comes soon," the man said in a forlorn voice.

"I'm sure it will," said Heather in as optimistic a voice as she could muster. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I guess not. Thank you for your time."

"Good day," said Heather before hanging up. She glanced at the lights for the lines on hold before lifting her gaze to the waiting room. A few people suddenly looked away, but the worried look on their faces was still obvious. She heard the distant sound of a door closing. She rushed to the back and intercepted Kevin as he headed to his office.

"I'm seeing more of those additional symptoms that seem to be unique to certain patients," said Kevin as he entered his office. "Three more with upper back and shoulder pain, two more with headaches, five more with neither."

"Kevin, we may have a problem," said Heather.

Kevin fell into his chair. "You mean besides having more patients than we can handle who we can't do a damn thing for?" he said in a slightly sour voice.

"I've been fielding calls all morning from people wanting to know if they're going to start looking like Turner soon."

Kevin paused as he was about to slip on his reading glasses. "I beg your pardon?"

"They're even calling him 'horse-man Turner'. Someone must've seen him yesterday."

"It couldn't have been more than one or two people, not with as quickly as Janet had shepherded him between the car and the office."

"Perhaps, but in a small town like this, that's all it takes," said Heather. "I'm trying to talk them down, but it's getting harder." She summarized her most recent call. "I'm thinking that the curfew is scaring folks."

Kevin leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "I wonder if I was mistaken in going to Chief Barrows. He seems like the sort of person who would take a cannon to a duck hunt."

"We're going to have to do something," said Heather. "Even if it's just to record a new greeting message to give people some sort of reassurance. Maybe it will cut down on the number of calls."

Kevin nodded. "All right."

"And another thing," said Heather. "Maybe we should say that if they don't have anything more than the known symptoms that they should just stay home."

"That sounds like triaging," Kevin said in a wary voice.

"Well, I guess in a way, it is."

"We're not an emergency service, Heather. I prefer not to discourage anyone from seeing me."

"But do you really need to see your umpteenth person with a tail when we already know that's a symptom? All you can do is confirm, yep, they have a tail and send them on their way unhappy that you can't do anything for them. You've already sent in a dozen more hair and blood samples. Why not tell them to wait until they have a new symptom?"

"And have them be even less happy if they can't see me at all? Especially with the hospital and clinics backed up?"

"But what are you really offering them?"

"Maybe a chance to talk to a human being who cares about their predicament," Kevin snapped. "That has to count for something!"

"I just don't want to see you either frustrate yourself or stress yourself out."

"I am not stressing out!"

"Yes, you are," Heather said. "Just the fact that you raised your voice to me is proof."

Kevin stared at her for a moment before rubbing his temples. "I'm terribly sorry, Heather," he said in a more contrite voice.

Heather smiled faintly. "I can take people yelling at me, it's just very unusual to hear it from you. Even at the height of the flu outbreak, you managed to keep your spirits up."

"It helped I was dealing with something familiar."

"Not to mention that we knew about when it would be over." Heather paused. "I'm sorry I suggested triaging."

Kevin stood and shook his head. "No, I understand where you're coming from. I'm hoping we need to hold the fort for only another day. Once a public health emergency is declared, we'll get an influx of physicians who can take some of the load." Kevin smiled. "Maybe we'll even get a day or two off."

Heather slowly smiled. "I could use it, believe me."

Harold led Sarah on a largely silent romp through many of the nature trails and hiking paths surrounding the town despite the blanket of wet snow that had fallen the night before. Sarah had tried not to complain; Harold needed to work off his head of steam. A panting Sarah finally leaned her back against a tree and called out. "Harry, please, I have to stop, my legs ache something awful!"

Harold turned around, snow crunching as he walked over to her. "What, already?"

Sarah stared. "Seriously? It's been over an hour."

"It has?"

"You're not the least bit winded tromping through all this thick snow?"

"Not really, no."

Sarah grinned. "And here I thought being cooped up in the house would've made you soft."

Harold frowned.

Sarah's grin faded. "Sorry. Did I hit a nerve?"

"Sort of. Not your fault."

"Care to tell me what happened with your father?"

Harold rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer to his wife. "I know you said you're tired, but let's walk back to town. We can go slow if you want. I'm just still too restless to keep standing still."

Sarah sighed but nodded as she pushed herself from the tree. "Please, talk to me."

Haltingly, Harold summarized the conversation with his father.

"If it helps any, I think you made the right decision," said Sarah.

"I'd like to think I did," Harold said in a neutral voice.

"Of course, you did. You can't leave your family at a time like this. I'd have something to say about it if you had decided otherwise."

"But we could've all gone together," said Harold.

Sarah frowned. "When I said I wanted to leave Lazy Pines, it was to seek treatment, not be conscripted into manual labor."

"You and the kids could've gone into a hospital. I could stay on the farm and help Dad."

"No, Harry."

Harold said nothing, and for a while the only sound was their feet crunching on the snow.

"First of all, we have no idea if this condition is going to do something to us to make us unable to ... to do things," Sarah said, waving her hand vaguely. "He also had no business telling you that you're useless. Just on that alone, I wouldn't want to set foot in his house."

"I didn't care for it much either," said Harold in a low voice.

"And you don't believe him, do you?"

"I'm trying not to." Harold looked at Sarah. "I'm mostly succeeding, but I still want to help him. If he really doesn't have anyone, I want to do something."

"Harry, you don't have to--"

"No, Sarah, I said want to, not have to," said Harold. "I'm going to try to find out who his neighbors are and contact them. I'll ask them if they'd be willing to help my Dad."

"And if he won't accept their help?"

Harold's words were a bit forced as he said, "Then his attitude is his problem."

They continued in silence until they reached the edge of town. "We should swing by the grocery store," said Sarah. "We're running low on vegetables."

"Right."

As they reached the denser part of town, Sarah looked around with a mix of concern and bemusement. More people than not had some form of discolored hair, and she suspected some had tails; either they wore long coats to cover it, or walked oddly, or had a telltale bulge in the back of one pant leg.

Those that did not have the condition were more noticeable, and not just for their lack of symptoms. Many walked slightly hunched, arms pressed tight to their bodies, often their hands thrust into their pockets. One such person appeared ahead, walking towards them. He looked up, hesitated, then ducked his head and crossed the street.

"Did you see that?" Sarah said.

"Huh?" said Harold. "See what?"

"The fellow who was walking towards us. I think he deliberately avoided walking near us. Does he think we're contagious or something?"

"Maybe not everyone's heard Doctor Conner's theory."

Sarah was about to reply when she spotted a group of people clustered on a street corner. All had discolored hair, and one had a tail hanging down from a notch cut in his pants. A van with a satellite dish atop it was parked just around the corner. The group slowly broke up, revealing a man with dark hair and no obvious symptoms. A lighter-haired man stood near him carrying a large video camera.

"Harry, wait," Sarah said as she slowed. "Look over there."

Harold stopped and turned. The group had thinned enough for them to see the logo emblazoned on the side of the van: "9News Denver". The dark-haired man pointed at Sarah and Harold and said something to his cameraman before they both started jogging across the street.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Harry, maybe we should just continue on our way."

"Excuse me, ma'am, sir?" the man called out.

"I'm not sure we should do this," Sarah murmured.

"Why not?" said Harold. "Maybe if this gets picked up nationally, my father will actually believe me."

"I don't want that to be the reason we--" Sarah started, but she fell silent as the two men reached them.

The dark-haired man smiled. "I'm Bruce Donner with 9News in Denver. Would you folks be kind enough to agree to be interviewed?"

"Hey, Jenny, wait up!"

Jenny had just stepped away from her locker and turned to head to the exit when she whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. She smiled as she brushed strands of pink hair from her eyes. "Finally, you have to catch up with me for a change."

James smirked as he approached. "Very funny."

Jenny grinned. "I should've just kept going and made you run after me."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing any running with this damn tail stuffed down my pants."

"It's grown longer, huh?" Jenny said in a softer voice. "Same thing happened to Laura."

"After having it tug on my tail bone one too many times earlier, I was tempted to take a pair of scissors into the bathroom and just cut it off," James muttered.

"Laura had cut all of it off just before going to bed last night," said Jenny. "It all came back this morning."

"I heard some other girl tried to shave off all the hair on her head."

"Yeah, that was Josie. It all grew back the next morning just as purple as it was before."

James' eyes widened. "That's beyond weird."

"You mean weirder than the idea we're turning into ponies?" said Jenny.

James scratched his head. "I kinda wish I'd never brought that up."

"I kinda wish you hadn't, either."

James frowned but said in a low voice, "Sorry."

Jenny sighed and shook her head. "No, forget I said that. You just repeated the same rumor everyone else did. It doesn't matter. It's not gonna happen."

James' eyebrows rose. "And you're so sure of that?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

"Because it's stupid," Jenny declared.

"Jenny, things don't fail to happen just because you think they're stupid."

"No, you don't get it. It's stupid because the world is not supposed to work like that."

James gave her a perplexed look. "I don't follow you."

Jenny hesitated. "You remember what I told you once, about how the real world is boring, and that's why I do what I do?"

James remembered the exact day she had told him. He had felt it was a sort of milestone in their budding relationship. "Yeah, I remember. I thought you'd want the world to be a little more interesting."

"Not in that way!" Jenny snapped. "It's fun when it's just in my head. It's not supposed to be real. It can't be real."

James heard the quaver that crept into Jenny's voice, and his expression softened. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was frightening you."

"It's not! I'm not frightened. Are you?"

"Yeah, a little," said James. "The world was already a scary place before this, but--"

Jenny waved her hands. "No, don't talk to me about things like politics or world events. Maybe other people think that makes the world scary, but I don't see the point of worrying about that sort of stuff."

"I don't claim to lose sleep over it," said James.

"But other people do, and I don't want to be one of those people."

"It kinda sounds like you want to wish this away."

"No, it's not that." Jenny hesitated, as if searching for words. "It's more like I don't want it to affect what I like to do."

"Is that why you've been using what's happening as inspiration?"

Jenny shrugged. "I always get inspired by stuff around me. I just don't like reality getting too close to fantasy."

James glanced at the clock on the wall. "I hate to cut off this deep discussion, but I still have to head straight home from school, and I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure, go ahead," said Jenny, eager to change the topic.

"I have an idea how we can hang out together tomorrow."

Jenny slowly smiled. "Really?"

"I'm planning on telling my mother that I'm going to spend part of the day with my friend Ken playing video games," James explained. "I got Ken to swear up and down that I'll be there."

"What if she tries to call Ken's house to check on you?"

"Ken's going to claim I'm in the bathroom and that he'll have me call her back," said James. "Then he'll call me to let me know, and I can call Mom back on my phone."

"What if your mother insists on waiting on the phone for you to get out of the bathroom?" Jenny asked.

"Then Ken will go to his backup plan and claim his battery's low."

"I'm not sure that's going to fool her."

James grinned. "My mother is a little technology-challenged, and I'm taking shameless advantage of it."

Jenny smirked. "So you're starting to think like me."

"Oh, I hope not!"

Jenny playfully punched his arm. "Oh, sure, you arrange for a secret rendezvous with the peasant girl and then you insult her. Some hero you are."

James chuckled. "So you think you can meet me at the park around ten without Laura in tow?"

Jenny looked thoughtful. "Let me see what I can do. The peasant girl will have to avoid the watchful eye of the evil sorceress while she tries her wiles on the knight."

James smirked. "Translation: you're going to bypass your Mom and sweet-talk your Dad."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, I wish you luck with that," said James. "I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jenny smiled. "See you."

As dusk deepened to twilight, Kevin yawned and stretched his neck before opening the door and returning to his patient. A young woman sat at the end of the examination table, playing nervously with a lock of magenta hair. Kevin eased himself into a chair, trying not to look as tired as he felt. "So I did receive a copy of the ultrasound you had."

Carol forced a small smile as she lay a hand on her swollen belly. "They, um, said it was normal."

"Yes, your son appears perfectly healthy."

Carol's eyes looked slightly distant. "That was done a week ago."

"The hospital is a bit backed up, and paperwork is not quite a priority right now."

"That's not what I mean, Doctor Conner," Carol said in a flat voice.

Kevin had anticipated and dreaded this conversation the moment he saw Carol had made an appointment. While he had taken a rotation in obstetrics and gynecology during his medical training -- like most physicians specializing in family medicine -- he preferred that his pregnant patients see an OB/GYN, but Carol's was out of town on vacation that week. He assumed she came to him not so much for medical reasons as emotional support.

"I didn't have these weird symptoms then," said Carol in a quavering voice. "I-I wouldn't have worried about it, but then I heard about Turner, and when I woke up with a tail this morning, I--"

Kevin stood and placed his hand over hers. "Carol, it's okay, I understand. A lot of people are worried about this."

Carol took a deep breath. "I was so freaked out when I came down with the flu. Now I want to laugh at how upset I got. It's almost nothing compared to this."

"As far as we know, this is not adversely affecting anyone's health. Even the aversion to meat can be compensated for in the diet by--"

"That's not really what I'm concerned about. I'm only four months along. What am I going to become when I'm ready to give birth? What am I going to give birth to?!"

"Your son," said Kevin firmly. "Nothing more and nothing less."

Carol hesitated, her eyes glistening. "But ... what if ... what if this changes us so much that I can't care for him? Or that I won't even know how to care for him?"

The honest answer was that he didn't know, but he knew that's not what Carol wanted to hear. "Help will be on the way long before then. I've already spoken to state officials myself. I'll make absolutely sure they understand your situation."

Carol shuddered and let out a ragged breath. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "S-sorry, Doctor Conner, my husband told me this wasn't going to accomplish anything but ... I had to talk to someone about it. He keeps avoiding the subject."

Kevin squeezed her hand. "I know you're scared, but it won't do you or your child any good to panic. Are you having any difficulties specific to your pregnancy?"

She shook her head. "It's going really smooth, actually." She managed a tiny smile. "Kinda nice considering this is my first. I just hope ... when I give birth that ... he'll still be ... um ..." She bit her lip. "Never mind. You're right, I have to keep calm."

Like Heather earlier, compassion battled responsibility in Kevin's head. The Department of Health would want data on how this may be affecting unborn children, but Carol's ability to cope seemed to be hanging by a thread. "When does your obstetrician get back?"

"Monday," said Carol. "I already made an appointment with her."

Kevin would let her OB/GYN order another ultrasound. By then, the state would likely be more directly involved, and she could get the procedure in a more reasonable amount of time than Kevin ever could. He could live with that compromise.

"I just got a little spooked when I heard about Turner." Carol sighed. "Okay, a lot spooked."

"Take rumors with a grain of salt," said Kevin. "I always find that to be sound advice."

Kevin hated how close to outright lying that sounded to his ears, but the last thing Carol's baby needed was for her mother to be constantly stressed. He was rewarded with a small smile. "Thank you, doctor, I really appreciate this. Sorry if I had to keep you so late."

Kevin smiled gently. "You're my last patient, if that helps any."

After finishing up with her, he headed back to his office and to the mountain of data he needed to sift through for his next report to the Department of Health.

Heather knocked softly on his door before letting herself in. "I was going to head out if you didn't need me for anything."

"I should be okay," said Kevin in a listless voice.

"You sure?"

Kevin smiled wanly. "Not really, but nothing can be done about it."

"Do you need help entering data for your last patients?"

"I don't have much to enter for Carol. All she really wanted was reassurance." Kevin frowned. "What little I could give her."

Heather placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kevin, you did your best. You sure you don't need help?"

"All I have left to do is report my latest findings to the Department of Health."

"Promise me you won't work past eight?"

Kevin opened his mouth to protest, but softened his gaze. "I promise."

Heather gave him a small smile. "Thank you. Good night." She started out of the office, but paused and sighed. "Oh, for heaven's sake."

Kevin looked up. "What is it?"

"Janet Turner just walked in."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "Send her in, please."

"This time of night?"

"It's likely about her father. Send her in, and you can head on home. And, yes, I promise not to stay up too late."

Heather headed away. Kevin heard muffled conversation, then heeled shoes approaching his office. Janet poked her head in. "Kevin? I'm really sorry for how late it is, but--"

Kevin shook his head and gestured for her to come while he suppressed a yawn. "It's okay, though I do wish you had contacted me earlier."

"I had planned to," said Janet as she sat down. "But I spent a chunk of the afternoon playing phone tag with my lawyer and talking to the police. I started feeling so fatigued I had to lie down for a bit."

"We're all starting to feel a little frayed around the edges," said Kevin. "What did the police want?"

Janet frowned. "They wanted more details on his mental state. I think they're looking for an excuse to take him into custody." She sighed. "I know they're just doing their job, but I don't want to see my father get hurt."

Kevin could appreciate Janet's worry, but as he had with Carol earlier, he had to find a way to balance sympathy with his responsibilities to the public. "Did you have a chance to look in on your father today?"

"For a little while this morning, before he became agitated and asked me to leave."

"What's his condition like?"

"He's a little more hunched over. He had some fur on his arms. His hands looked like they were a bit stiff, but that could've been just his arthritis acting up." From Janet's shudder, it was clear she didn't believe that last part.

"How's his mobility?" Kevin asked.

"I'm rather surprised and a little frightened by how well he can get around on those hooves."

Kevin scrubbed his face with both hands. He had not realized how tired he was until he was forced to focus on this. "Janet, I really wish I could just call for an ambulance and admit him to the hospital, because right now that's his best bet."

"But that's the problem, Kevin," Janet said. "If he doesn't want to leave, there's almost no way to get him out of there without hurting him."

"He's not going to have a choice," said Kevin. "The state wants him in a proper medical facility and have the legal weight to back them up."

"His place is fortified. He claims he has booby traps everywhere. His air is filtered, and he has enough food and water to last a month long siege, and that's even taking into account the food stores he can't eat anymore. I need to get him out of there under his own will."

"He can be isolated in-house," said Kevin in an exasperated voice. "He just needs to let physicians examine him and--"

"He won't, unless he's forcibly restrained, and there's still the problem of getting to him. That's why I came to see you."

"What can I possibly do?"

"Would you come and see him? He might let you examine him."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Because he holds some measure of respect for you," said Janet.

"He didn't show it in the office."

"It was something he said to me later when I brought him home. He said 'I could almost believe he was telling the truth.'"

Kevin managed a small smile. "Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but better than I was expecting."

"He respects you because you showed him nothing but the utmost respect, even when he was raving at you," said Janet. "He hasn't seen that from anyone in a long time."

"All right, say I do go see him," Kevin said. "What do you hope to accomplish?"

"If he lets you examine him, maybe you can gain his confidence and try to convince him to seek help," said Janet. "If he goes willingly, then no one has to force him out of there."

"I suppose anything is worth a shot, but as much as I would want to do it now, I am absolutely exhausted."

"So am I," said Janet. "And my father retires early and gets up before the dawn, so tomorrow morning would be better anyway."

"I'm planning on keeping just my normal afternoon Saturday hours tomorrow, so my morning will be free. Should I meet you at your hotel?"

"Yes, please," Janet said. "We should head over in my car so he sees something familiar on the surveillance cameras." She smiled. "Thank you for doing this, Kevin. You can't imagine how much I appreciate it."

Chapter 18 - No Simple Answers

Shining Armor paced slowly back and forth in his parents' living room. "I came to Canterlot with a full head of steam," he said in a low voice. "Now that I've had the train trip to cool down, I don't know what to think!"

"Is that why you sent Cadance on ahead to the palace?" asked Twilight.

"Yes, because right now, I have no idea what to say to Princess Celestia."

"You'd be expressing the same thing we've all been thinking," said Night Light in a tired voice. "She was wrong in doing this, and--"

Shining stopped and stared at his father. "But was she, really?"

Twilight Velvet gasped. "How can you say that??"

"Mom, you know about the terrible ideas Aunt Sunset was pouring into Twily's head!"

Night frowned. "You're lucky I sent my parents home, Shiny. They wouldn't take kindly to what you just said. Have a little respect for the dead."

"Look, I was sad when she died, too," said Shining. "But I was the one who found out what Aunt Sunset was teaching her."

Twilight's eyes widened. "You were?"

Shining turned to her. "You were writing an essay for school, and you left it on your desk. I probably wouldn't have read it if it weren't for the title: 'Because ponies are better.'"

"Yes, I remember that," said Twilight. "Hearth's Warming Eve was coming up, and the class was tasked with writing an essay about what we liked about Equestria. I never turned that one in."

"Because I convinced you not to," said Velvet.

"That's right. You had me write my second choice, a treatise about pony unity. You never tried to explain what was wrong with my original essay."

"I ... I just had no words at the time. I was too much in shock."

"The family had a big discussion about it," said Shining. "They couldn't figure out how you got that stuff in your head. Aunt Sunset was the only one who didn't attend. I got suspicious and secretly listened in the next time Sunset foal-sat for you. You showed her the essay you had originally written."

"I was upset that Mom didn't let me submit it and couldn't understand why," Twilight said. "Aunt Sunset started to praise what I had written until--"

"Until I interrupted her," said Shining. "I didn't want to upset you, so I talked to her in private. I asked her to leave. Then I told our parents, and they decided Aunt Sunset was a bad influence and shouldn't foal-sit you anymore."

"Thank you for intervening, Shining," said Twilight in a slightly subdued voice. "I'm sure you did what you thought was best."

Starlight gave Twilight a confused look.

Shining smiled and ruffled Twilight's mane with a forehoof. "Anything for my little sister."

"And Sunset was my sister," said Night. "I know she was taking a path that I didn't like, but I never wanted to see her cut off from the family."

"She cut herself off," said Shining. "You and grandma tried everything to reason with her, but she wouldn't even answer the door let alone any letters sent to her."

"Um, if I can make a suggestion?" Starlight said tentatively.

"Yeah?" Shining said in a terse voice.

Starlight had felt like the fifth wheel in Shining's presence the moment she had stepped into the house. "Well, it's sort of already done, so maybe we shouldn't argue about it?"

"Starlight is right," said Twilight. "We're just going to tear the family apart if we keep debating it. What's done is done."

Shining rubbed his mane with a hoof. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Twily."

"Furthermore, we have bigger things to worry about," said Twilight. "I need to find out what's going on with that portal and figure out how to seal it."

"Are you going to need my help?"

"Yes. You're better with shield spells than me."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. Somepony is actually better than you in shield spells?"

Twilight smiled. "I may be an alicorn, but Shiny's been doing shields since I was still a foal. Maybe I can make them stronger in the short term, but I can't maintain them as long as he can."

Shining smiled at the praise.

"Look, um, in that case, maybe I should join Spike at the Archives," said Starlight.

"Are you sure you don't want a snack or some juice, Starlight?" Velvet asked.

"No, I'm good. I'll just see you later."

She headed away, but Twilight caught up with her. "You okay?" she asked in a low voice.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Starlight whispered. "You didn't look happy when Shining explained what he had done."

"Never mind that for now. You looked uncomfortable all morning."

"Just feeling out-of-place. Your brother hasn't exactly taken a shine to me."

"Don't worry too much about that," said Twilight. "He tends to be a little overprotective of the family. He'll come around."

"I'll take your word for it," Starlight said. "Meanwhile, it's dusty old scrolls for me."

"I'll meet you over there once I've had a chance to look at the portal."

"It's good to see you again, Cadance," said Celestia with a small smile. "I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

Cadance forced a smile in return. While she had agreed to take Shining's place, she had about as much luck as her husband in finding the right words to say.

"I trust little Flurry Heart is doing well?"

"Yes, she is," said Cadance. "Sunburst agreed to watch her while we're gone. Normally, I would've brought her to Canterlot with us, but I didn't want to expose her to ... well, all the negativity."

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "And just how much of that is on your part, Cadance?"

Cadance tried and failed to suppress a frown. She turned fully towards Celestia. "Do you want to know what my last memory was before you suppressed it?"

"I know all too well," said Celestia softly.

"I'm going to repeat it anyway," said Cadance, acid creeping into her voice. "It was an argument we had. I had found out what Sunset really did, not just what she let everypony think she did. I pleaded with you to tell Sunset's family the truth!"

"And you vowed to tell Shining Armor if I didn't."

Cadance turned away. "Obviously, I never had the chance."

Celestia lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"I realize now that it was too impetuous of me, especially given Sunset had only just died," said Cadance in a low voice. "But you had trusted me above all other ponies. I was the one you confided in when you were at your wits' end. You drew on me for support." She whirled around, her voice rising. "I kept your secrets for you, but only on your reassurances that you would tell everypony what really happened. That was just another lie, wasn't it?"

Celestia raised her head. "Not at the time. I had every intention of keeping my word."

"So why didn't you?"

"Everything started to break down when the griffons discovered Sunset's successful experiment," said Celestia. "To this very day, I have no idea how they found out. I had the Royal Guard quietly scour Canterlot in hopes of uncovering a griffon spy, if for no other reason than to give me leverage against them."

"I take it you never found one."

"No, and time was running out," said Celestia. "When we had our argument, it was just after I had concluded the peace treaty with the griffons. I had to bury all knowledge of Sunset's research. While she had already burned all her notes, there was so much record of what she did and accomplished that another pony as good as her could reconstruct her research."

"Like Twilight potentially could," said Cadance.

"A Twilight whose head had been filled with Sunset's twisted ideas."

"And maybe that wouldn't have happened!" Cadance snapped. "I had already started to foal-sit her. I could've countered Sunset's ideas. Shining could've done it! Twilight looked up to him as much as she had Sunset."

"Cadance, please, listen to me," Celestia said. "I have been around for a very long time. I have seen many ponies of great renown -- and great infamy -- pass away. Many such ponies become greater and more powerful in the minds of others in death than they ever were in life. Starswirl the Bearded is a perfect example. He was a great pony. He was a powerful pony. He did very many great things. But he was fallible, he made mistakes, often huge ones. Yet there are many who virtually deify him."

"Yes, but we don't go around wiping ponies' memories of him," said Cadance.

"This is not the same situation. Cadance, my words are not meant to excuse my actions, merely explain them. Had I a chance to do it over again, I would try to find a different path."

Cadance remained silent as thoughts spun in her head.

Celestia lowered her gaze. "I once thought that the biggest mistake I had ever made in my life was using the Elements of Harmony against my own sister. Since her return, I've become convinced that it had to happen that way, that a much greater good came of it. I don't feel any sense of that now. I made a mistake that I don't see any immediate greater good that could result."

Cadance approached her aunt. "You had said at the time that Sunset believed this act of magic would allow her to Ascend. Even after my Ascension and then Twilight's, I still don't understand quite how it works. Could she have actually done it? Or is it something you need to approve somehow?"

Celestia looked thoughtful as she stepped out on her balcony. She looked up at the sky as Cadance followed. "It is a bit complicated. I can sense potential, and I can help it along, and I can be there when it concludes, but I cannot arbitrarily bestow it." She smiled. "You cannot know the intense joy I felt when I was not only there for Luna's Ascension, but I sensed her potential so strongly. It didn't happen again for a very long time until you Ascended, and then Twilight."

"But when did you sense our destinies?"

"I sensed your potential about a year before you Ascended. I sensed Twilight's potential when she returned from the Crystal Empire after defeating Sombra. I do not profess to understand everything about alicornhood, nor do I claim to control every aspect of Ascension. That is why the birth of Flurry Heart was as much a surprise to me as it was to you and Shining Armor."

Cadance nodded slowly. "So what about Sunset? Did you sense that in her?"

Celestia was quiet for a long moment. "Yes, right around the time she started to work on the task she claimed would smooth over relations with the griffons."

Cadance's eyes widened. "Is that why you didn't ask for more detail on what she was planning?"

Celestia turned to her. "Sunset was my pride and joy. Until Twilight, she was the most capable student I ever had. Through sheer accomplishment alone, she deserved Ascension. I suppose that may be one of the reasons I took so long to see the truth, and in the aftermath, it left me with a question I could not answer: why?"

"Why what?"

"Why her? You are the Princess of Love. Twilight is the Princess of Friendship. You both spread Harmony. What possible purpose could be served by elevating somepony of Sunset's beliefs to a Princess? The Princess of what? Pony Hegemony? It makes no sense!"

Whatever lingering anger Cadance may have still felt, she could not bring herself to express it after seeing the tears forming in Celestia's eyes. "I wish I could give you answers, Auntie. Maybe something good will come out of this in the end."

Celestia sighed. "I can only hope. Yet no matter what I do, it won't change the fact that Sunset Shimmer is dead."

Starlight found Spike sitting at a table in a distant corner of the Archives, several books and scrolls arrayed around him. His eyes were glued to a particular book. "Weird," he murmured.

"What's weird?" said Starlight.

Spike lifted his head. "I was reading up on the description of the natives of the world on the other side of the portal. They're, uh, kinda strange."

"Let me see." Starlight grabbed the book in her magic. "Hmm ... upright ... bipedal ... one-and-a-half pony-heights tall ... no fur ..." Starlight looked up and shrugged. "Eh, not that weird."

"That's not the weird part," said Spike. "The weird part is that they have no magic, and yet the first time the portal opened, they had a huge empire!"

Starlight stared. "Seriously? How'd they manage that?"

"Beats me."

"How long ago was it?"

Spike consulted his notes. "Umm ... about one thousand nine hundred years ago. I think. I had a hard time trying to read that ancient Equestrian script. Twilight's been teaching me, but I've got a way to go." He grabbed another book and slid it across the table. "This has more detail. Maybe you can make sense of it."

Starlight opened the book with a nudge of magic. "Hrm. I'm a little rusty with this as well, but I'll try reading the summary." She was quiet for a few moments. "Wow. They had advanced architecture, a road system, aqueducts, an official language, a monetary system, all without any magic whatsoever!" She looked up and smirked. "Good thing I volunteered for this part. If Twilight started reading this, we wouldn't see her for days."

Spike chuckled. "But you see what I mean."

"How did they ever manage this without even at least pegasi to keep the weather under control?" said Starlight as she looked back down at the book.

"Maybe they didn't." Spike grabbed another book and slid it towards her. "Take a look at this. This was from when the portal reappeared around seven hundred years ago."

Starlight grabbed the new book and opened it. "No cohesive state ... people living primitively ... no written language ... nomadic ..." She lifted her head. "What happened? Some sort of disaster? Warfare?"

Spike shrugged. "They never figured it out, either."

"Wait a minute," murmured Starlight as she read. "They tried to make contact with the natives this time." She glanced at the previous book. "The first time they used their magic to disguise themselves. But why--? Oh! Huh. The natives were militaristic and meat-eaters. That would do it."

"But the griffons are meat-eaters, and we don't worry about them."

"Yeah, but when you're dealing with an unknown species, you're not going to take a chance that ponies taste good," said Starlight.

"Ah, good point."

"Looks like the attempt at contact the second time around was a bust," said Starlight. "Some other tribe of natives attacked the first tribe, and they had to get out in a hurry. They even left a few magical items behind."

"Maybe that's the cause of the energy in the rift," said Spike.

"I doubt it. The objects were really trivial, and the natives seem to have an inherent lack of ability to do magic despite the presence of a thaumic field. I doubt they would've suddenly gained that ability since then, not if their culture had devolved to that state."

Spike rested his head on a claw. "Does it seem kinda strange that I'm a little worried about these natives?"

Starlight smiled faintly. "Spike, I don't think it's strange at all."

Twilight stepped carefully into the room that once had been Sunset's lab, her eyes wide as she looked around. "Wow. I can still sense lingering bits of plasma even after all these years, Shiny," said Twilight in a hushed voice. "I would've given anything to see this place when it was still intact."

"She should never have had this lab in the first place," said Shining as his hoof-falls kicked up small clouds of dust.

"Still, it was an amazing accomplishment."

"Be careful, Twily. Don't get caught up in your hero worship of her again."

"Shining, please, relax," said Twilight as she stopped near the center of the room. "It's like I told my friends, I've since been too indoctrinated in friendship and harmony to ever consider taking on those beliefs." She lighted her horn. "But I can still admire her prowess at magic, and in that regard, she was a unicorn of astonishing power."

Twilight turned her head to the left, her horn brightening as she slowly moved it to the right. A cone of energy projected from her horn swept over the center of the room. A tear in reality revealed itself in the form of a jagged, glowing scar stretching before them.

Shining's eyes widened, and he backed up a step. "That's been here all this time? It looks monstrous!"

Twilight extended her wings. "And yet, it's relatively harmless." She flew through it and back. "The portal is closed. Most of its magic is not resonating in physical reality."

"Then what's the real danger from this thing?"

Twilight landed before her brother. "The real danger is the energy leaking into the wormhole. If it becomes too great, it could re-open the portal in an uncontrolled fashion. It would be like a bomb going off. We also have to consider the possibility of the natives of the other world attempting to open it."

Shining nodded. "We wouldn't want hostiles gaining access to Canterlot."

"I'm more concerned that they may tinker with something that they know little about," said Twilight. "Though Celestia told me they have no magic."

Shining raised an eyebrow. "Then how could they do anything with it?"

Twilight turned towards the anomaly. "The fact that this has remained a conduit for energy means there's still a tenuous connection with the other world." She paused and turned to her brother. "Shining, how much do you remember of what Aunt Sunset did that made the family upset?"

Shining frowned. "All we found out was that it had to do with forcefully bringing the griffons under Equestrian rule. Given what we knew of her beliefs, all we could guess was that she wanted to make them mind-controlled slaves serving the 'master pony race'" He stated the last three words with disdain. "She did nothing to dissuade us from that thinking."

Twilight sighed. "Well, that explains your cold reception of Starlight."

"I'm sorry, Twily. All these suppressed memories feel like they happened yesterday, so it's very hard for me to forgive what Starlight did to your friends. You don't know how much I struggled with what to think about these memories while on the train."

"I know," said Twilight in a low voice. "I won't reveal quite yet exactly what Aunt Sunset had done, as I think the family's nerves are too raw right now, but I can tell you it was not mind control. Right now, I don't want friction between you and Starlight."

"I'll try, I promise." Shining looked at the tear. "So now what?"

Twilight stepped closer to the anomaly. "Now that I can see it, I can try to determine the nature of the magic coming through."

Shining smiled. "That should be fairly easy for you."

"Not really." Twilight lighted her horn. "The portal is closed up so tight that space is folded in on itself. It's making a mess of the thaumic flow. It's just a big jumble on this side."

Shining stepped forward. "Anything we can do about it?"

"Yes, and this is why I brought you here," said Twilight. "We need to wedge open the portal at this end slightly."

Shining's eyes widened. "But I thought the idea was to keep the portal shut!"

"This won't open the portal clear to the other end."

"But what if the magic coming through is dangerous?"

"All we're doing is letting out some of what's piled up at this end," said Twilight. "That's actually a good thing, as it relieves some of the pressure and makes the portal less prone to spontaneously opening. I imagine that's what Celestia had planned to do herself."

Shining nodded. "All right, let's do this. What's my target?"

A narrow beam shot from Twilight's horn, and she drew a glowing circle upon the scar about a foreleg in width. "There." She got out a quill and paper. "Ready?"

Shining's horn started to glow. "Ready."

"Go."

A beam erupted from Shining's horn, and a small cylinder of shield energy filled half of the circle Twilight had drawn. A stream of glittering, raw magical energy poured forth through this makeshift pipe like champagne foam. Twilight easily diverted it into a ball of energy above her head.

Shining clenched his teeth and grunted with the effort, the beam growing brighter as the shield slowly expanded. "This is a real fight, Twily! Am I making any progress?"

"Yes, keep it up, the pressure is dropping to a safer level." She hovered near the shield and peered through it. As the energy in the ball suspended above her head continued to froth and roil, she jotted down runes and equations. Flickering yellow and red light danced across her face as she peered at a tight ball of dense plasma similar to what she had seen in her grandmother's dream, sitting just past the mouth of the portal. "This is fascinating, Shining. Aunt Sunset actually managed to create an artificial wormhole."

Sweat beaded on Shining's forehead. "A little faster with the note-taking would be appreciated," he said in a strained voice.

The quill scratched across the page. "Hmm. The portal energy is not quite as noisy as I had expected." She glanced above her head. "And there's not nearly as much pressure built up." She peered into the hole again. "The plasma is not even pulsating. I don't get this."

Shining panted, sweat rolling down his face. "Uh, Twily? You almost done? This is tougher than it looks!"

"Sorry." Twilight quickly made more notes. "All right, I'm done."

The shield collapsed. The hole closed up neatly, leaving the scar unperturbed.

Twilight stared. "It shouldn't have done that."

Shining stepped up, still panting. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Do what?"

"The way the portal closed back up," said Twilight. "Celestia said the portal was unstable, and Aunt Sunset was killed when it collapsed on her. I expected a ripple across the length of the rift just now, or at least some sort of energy backwash."

"I'm not sure I follow, Twily."

Twilight turned to him, still levitating the quill and paper. "Unstable portals should get more unstable over time." She gestured with a wing towards the glowing ball above her head. "And this is mostly residual portal energy that was pushed down the throat of the wormhole by whatever magic is causing this resurgence in the first place."

Shining glanced at it. "Can you tell what magic it is?"

Twilight examined her notes. "The two magicks are all jumbled up due to the massive compression of the wormhole. All I can do right now is a straight thaumic interpolation and solve for the correct equations later, similar to what Starlight did with our initial readings on the anomaly." After some more writing, her horn flashed, and the ball of energy vanished. "I need to get on this right now. I'll see you back at the house later."

"Is there anything else I can do?" asked Shining.

Twilight stepped away from the portal. "Renew the shield spell around this place. And if you would, please ... um ..." She trailed off, frowned, and glanced around her.

"What's the matter?"

"Strange," Twilight murmured. "I felt a slight tingling for a moment."

"Is it from the portal?" Shining asked in a wary voice.

"No, it felt more like it was from inside me," said Twilight. "Perhaps I stepped through some lingering plasma energy. Anyway, as I was going to say, could you ask the Royal Guard to station a contingent here to keep an eye on the portal?"

"You got it," said Shining. "I hope you have some luck sorting this out."

"So do I." Twilight's horn flashed, and she vanished with a pop of teleportation magic.

Starlight slowly paced back and forth, two books levitated before her. One was the burnt remnants of Sunset's journal, the other was an account from the unicorn mages who kept the portal open seven hundred years ago. "Trying to piece together Sunset's research is not going to be easy."

Spike leaned back in his chair, taking a break from his research. He set down his Power Ponies comic book in his lap. "At least you don't have to translate ancient Equestrian this time."

"Yes, but even seven hundred years ago, the speech pattern was archaic. Ugh, if I never see another 'thou' or 'thy' in my lifetime, it will be too soon." Starlight set down both books on the table. She picked up a quill and made a note on a scroll. "I'll be glad when this is over and things can get back to normal."

Behind her came a sudden pop. Spike noted the intense concern on Twilight's face and murmured, "I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon."

"Starlight, we have a problem," said Twilight as she trotted up.

Starlight turned and sighed. "Of course we do. What now?"

"I got my first look at that rift." Twilight set down her notes next to Starlight's. "It's far more stable than I was led to believe."

"Did Celestia lie to us again?"

"No, it's not that," said Twilight. "It likely had been unstable when it collapsed around Aunt Sunset, but over time, this new infusion of energy somehow re-stabilized it."

"But what does that mean?" asked Spike.

"I don't know yet." Twilight peered down at her notes. "Starlight, what progress have you made in studying the data from the portal that opened seven hundred years ago?"

"Not a whole lot," said Starlight. "First we got side-tracked by learning about the natives of the other world, and now I'm trying to wade through all this over-complicated archaic speech." She glanced over to Twilight's notes. "What's that?"

"A direct thaumic derivation of the energy from the rift."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Looks like a mess to me."

"Other magicks are mixed with the portal magic." Twilight glanced at the books Starlight was working on and picked them up in her magic. "Let me work on sorting this out and see if I can derive a basic set of equations. Then we can try to pick apart the portal magic from the other magic. Whatever is left over is what's causing the rift to surge."

"What should I do in the meantime?" said Starlight.

As Twilight contemplated an answer, a voice called out, "There you are, Twilight!"

Starlight looked past Twilight and saw Princess Cadance approaching. Twilight set her books aside and turned away from the table.

Spike smirked and leaned forward. "You wanna reconsider?" he whispered to Starlight.

Starlight grinned. "Not a chance. I still say it won't happen."

"I tell you, they're gonna do it."

Twilight trotted up to Cadance. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," Twilight said in a somber voice.

"No way," Starlight whispered to Spike. "It's too serious an occasion."

Spike grinned. "If you say so."

"This is a trying time for your family, but I hope to help in any way possible," said Cadance.

"See?" Starlight whispered. "Even Princess Cadance realizes this needs to be more--"

Twilight and Cadance slowly broke out into smiles, and then into a little dance. "Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!" they sang together. "Clap your hooves and do a little shake!"

Starlight face-hoofed.

Spike smirked and held out his arm.

"Fine," Starlight growled. She levitated several bits into his open claw.

Spike chuckled. "Easy money."

Twilight and Cadance hugged each other. "Thanks, Cadance, I needed that," said Twilight in a soft voice.

"I just talked to Auntie Celestia," said Cadance. "She's really broken up over this. I don't think I've seen her this upset before."

"I sympathize with her, but I can't be distracted by it now," said Twilight in a solemn voice. "I can't look to her for the answers like I have so many times in the past."

"You really feel like you can't trust her?" asked Cadance in a concerned voice.

Twilight looked pained. "I don't like saying that. I'll get over it, given time. It's not that I think she'll be deceptive, more like her judgment right now is too colored by her feelings for Aunt Sunset. I can't really fault her for that."

"What about you, Twilight?" said Cadance. "I'm told you were inconsolable when you were a foal right after learning Sunset had died."

"It does hurt if I dwell on it too much, but I don't have the burden of guilt like Celestia does. Cadance, when this is over, I think we should broach the idea of a formal funeral for Sunset Shimmer. It will give everypony a sense of closure."

"Yes, I agree. It will be very difficult for everypony, but I think your family will be better for it in the end."

Twilight smiled and hugged Cadance again. "I really am glad you're here. As much as I love my immediate family, I needed somepony who was a little more removed from it."

Cadance smiled. "I'll try to be here as long as you need me."

"Thank you." Twilight took a step back. "Now, I need to get to work."

As Twilight buried her muzzle in books after talking to Cadance, Starlight headed over to the restricted section of the high magic archive. While Sunset had burned her notes, Twilight had clearly seen some surviving data on Sunset's research while wrestling with the dark magic spell. Starlight soon discovered that Sunset had briefly -- and indirectly -- collaborated with several instructors while researching how to make transformation magic permanent, and they in turn had shared their insights.

Starlight found four scrolls relevant to the topic and quickly became fascinated. These instructors had shown little alarm in these queries, as it had been presented as a thought experiment, and all had deemed the problem insurmountable. Even when the discussions had turned to the idea of modifying the morphic resonance, one instructor conceded it was possible in theory, but concluded that there simply wasn't a proper delivery mechanism for the magic needed to accomplish the (supposedly hypothetical) goal.

"Ugh, this is hopeless!" Twilight suddenly cried.

Starlight levitated the scrolls she was reading and trotted over to where Twilight had planted her face to the table. "Um, maybe this is not the best time to ask how it's going," Starlight said in a tentative voice.

Twilight lifted her head. "It's not. I don't have enough data about how her ultra-dense plasma research led her to this point." She threw up her fore-hooves. "I don't even have the basic equations I need to identify the other magic!"

Starlight set her scrolls on the table and glanced around. "Where's Spike?"

"He went to check how my family is doing." Twilight glanced at the scrolls. "What are those?"

"Data on Sunset's transformation research."

"Really??" Twilight grabbed them in her magic. "This is what I was seeing when I was exploring the extent of the dark magic spell. I was wondering where it came from."

Starlight smirked. "Sunset was very clever in how she covered her tracks. She got another pony named Star Singer to talk to her professors instead. That likely threw Princess Celestia further off the trail."

"Star Singer?" said Twilight. "That's Moon Dancer's aunt."

"Moon Dancer?" said Starlight. "Was that the pony you told me you reconciled with a year ago?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So I'm sure she'll be glad to put you in touch with her aunt."

"Except for one problem," said Twilight. "Her family is still under the influence of Celestia's spell. I have no idea how close Aunt Sunset and Star Singer were. I'm trying to limit how many ponies may be traumatized by these memories, especially after seeing how hard it hit mine."

Starlight shrugged. "Still, I think this might be useful, especially if we need to undo any damage Sunset has caused."

"If we even can, considering Sunset intended the transformation to be permanent once it was complete. We might be better off tracking down the pegasus Aunt Sunset created from a griffon if we need to pursue it any further." Twilight picked up the scrolls and read silently for a few moments. "So the morphic resonance is tied to the genetic code. I had suspected as much."

"Reading those did give me an appreciation for how clever Sunset was," said Starlight.

"One professor had suggested that a properly crafted potion might do the trick, but it would require such a massive infusion of magic, it would likely kill the creature before the transformation was completed. I wonder if that's when Aunt Sunset realized conventional means wouldn't work."

Starlight smiled. "At the same time, it also revealed Sunset's limitations."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you notice anything missing from the data?"

Twilight glanced over the scrolls. "Nothing that stands out. Why?"

"There's no mention of cutie marks."

"Maybe she just didn't discuss it with them," said Twilight. "It would be a dead giveaway that she planned to change other creatures into ponies."

"Or she didn't figure it out," said Starlight. "It took me a long time to properly craft the unmarking spell, and that was with all my attention focused on it. The magic behind cutie marks is very unique and complex."

Twilight set down the scrolls. "It's really all academic at this point, and it's not getting us any closer to solving the dilemma with the portal."

Starlight looked thoughtful. "You said earlier that the portal being stable is a problem. Why?"

"Because it can be opened more easily with the application of a properly crafted spell once the underlying mechanics are understood," said Twilight. "From either end."

"But the natives of that world don't have magic as far as we can tell."

"I know, yet there's magic leaking through, which means it's concentrated somewhere near the other end of the portal."

"I don't know if this is relevant or not," said Starlight. "But I did some more research on the past explorations of that other world. I'm beginning to think that they visited completely different areas of the same world each time. The climate was different, the culture was different, everything was different."

"That would make sense if the other end of the portal had no anchor," said Twilight. "It would open almost anywhere."

"What would be needed to anchor it?"

"A magical source of some sort," said Twilight.

"The second expedition had accidentally left some minor magical items behind," said Starlight. "But would that be enough?"

"It would require a single, more powerful source. A properly enchanted crystal, for example. A skilled unicorn could use herself as an anchor. Or if she were the only unicorn around, just her ambient magical field would ... uh ..."

Twilight trailed off, her eyes widening. She and Starlight both looked at the transformation scrolls at the same time.

"No," said Twilight in a small voice. "That can't be."

"But didn't Princess Celestia say she saw her die?"

Twilight paused. "No, she didn't. She said she heard the scream, then she saw the blood and shards. She never said she actually saw Sunset get killed."

"Then maybe she was only injured and made it through."

"But the portal would've closed instantly," Twilight protested. "Death would've been quick and complete. Anything that survived the trip through the portal ... would be just a mangled mess."

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Would she have had time to scream?"

Twilight's pupils shrank. "No, she wouldn't. Unless she simply knew she was doomed."

"Or she was trying to make it look like she was."

"But that means Aunt Sunset had designs on transforming an entire world from the very start!" Twilight exclaimed. "And she specifically planned to make absolutely sure she couldn't be stopped! Nopony would be that terrible!"

"Yeah, that's almost as bad as a pony trying to create an alternate timeline just to preserve her crazy philosophy," Starlight deadpanned. "Good thing nopony tried that."

Twilight frowned. She snatched up the scrolls on transformation magic. "There's one way to find out."

"What are you going to do?"

"My original plan, but in reverse," said Twilight. "I had planned to derive the portal equations and thus solve for the unknown magic. Instead, I'm going to assume that the additional magic coming through the portal is transformation magic. I'll apply those equations and solve for the portal magic. If that gives me a nonsensical result, then we're wrong and we have to look elsewhere."

"And if it gives you a sensible result?" asked Starlight.

"Then Sunset Shimmer may still be alive in a world that has absolutely no defense against her magic."