Sweetie Belle, Ruby Pinch and Spike all ran out of endurance at about the same time. The group staggered and gasped to a stop a dozen yards from Fluttershy’s rustic cottage on the edge of town.

“Omigosh…” Sweetie wheezed. “I h-haven’t run that long since battle-tag last year!”

Spike looked back the way they came. “Do you think the others are okay?”

“No sign that Majesty would hurt a Pony,” Pinch replied with a shrug. After rolling her neck and heaving a deep breath or two, she added: “ … Yet.”

“They’ll be okay,” Sweetie said firmly. “They’ve gotta be.”

“We got away with the books you wanted,” Spike added. “That counts for something, right?”

“It counts for everything,” Pinch said. “There’s something we’re missing about all this, I can feel it. Dink felt it, too. That’s why she —” She swallowed hard. “That’s why she did what she did.” She nodded ahead, and the group followed her toward the cottage. “Fluttershy’s place is pretty out of the way. Maybe we can hole up here?”

She approached the closest open window and reared up to peer inside.

Two weasels, a barn owl, a beaver, three rabbits and a bear all rushed into the narrow space, snarling and growling and hooting at the interloper.

Pinch tumbled backward, cringing tight. “... Okay, maybe not.” While the animals drew back into the cottage, Pinch turned to Spike. “Can you talk to them? You’re an —”

Spike frowned. “I’m a what?”

“Uh, a friendly guy?” Pinch chuckled tensely.

The little Dragon sighed. “No good anyway. I actually kinda do understand snakes and lizards and stuff, but without Fluttershy we’re outta luck with those animals.”

“Where else can we go?” Sweetie lamented. “We’ve run out of Ponyville! The middle of town is too busy, and there’s nothing left on the outskirts this side before the Everfree Forest!”

Pinch slowly cracked a wide grin. “Sounds good.”

Spike’s slit-pupiled eyes went wide. “Y-You want us to hide in the Everfree Forest?”

“Majesty said we aren’t supposed to go in there,” Pinch replied. “It’s the perfect place! I mean, apart from all the deadly monsters and killer plants and wild weather and, like, quicksand and stuff.”

Sweetie’s eyes suddenly brightened. “Zecora!”

“Bless you,” said Pinch.

Sweetie frowned. “No! Zecora the Zebra! Remember, she told spooky stories on Nightmare Night? She LIVES in the Everfree Forest!”

“If there are still grownups in Canterlot…” Pinch said.

Spike punched the air. “Zecora might still be around, too!” He turned to face the gloomy, vine-wreathed expanse of woods. He swallowed hard. “... All we have to do it get to her house in one piece. Does anypony know the way? I’ve never found my way there alone.”

“No problem!” Sweetie said with a wave of her hoof. “Apple Bloom goes there all the time! She … can …” She trailed off as her eyes fell on the empty space next to her which would usually have contained her two fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders. A frown creased her face. “Oh.”

The Dink walked the long, narrow corridor with Scootaloo by her side. Majesty brought up the rear. Ahead, high-pitched sobbing and screaming leaked out around a sturdy wooden door.

“This is necessary,” Majesty said softly. “You’re the clever ones. You’re responsible. It’s for the greater good.”

“I knew the risks when I took the mission,” The Dink said without looking back. “I’m not afraid.”

“Yeah. I…” Scootaloo’s wings and bottom lip quivered. “D-Dink, what if they pull out my feathers?” Her eyes shone, threatening to well up with tears.

The Dink’s jaw stiffened. “That’s not gonna happen.”

The door loomed large. It shimmered with Majesty’s purple-white magic, unlocked itself and then creaked wide. The shrieks and cries doubled in volume. Both fillies squinted against the far brighter light in the chamber beyond.

A wave of magic gently but firmly pushed the pair into the room. Their hooves skidded on the floor, but there was no bracing against the force. “Now, then. You play nice, understand? I’ll check in on you later.”

The Dink and Scootaloo came to a stop on a thin, stained rug. The mad cacophony was all around them.

“If you’re scared, don’t let them see it,” The Dink cautioned. “They can smell fear.”

Scootaloo nodded. “I wish I still had my helmet.”

In the room before them, twenty-five baby and toddler foals wriggled and chewed and drooled and cried and fussed. As the door closed and locked itself, fifty bright, beady little eyes locked on the new caretakers.

The Dink sighed. “I picked the wrong day to leave Mister Lucky Ducky at home.”

In the town square, the new theme was tea-parties. Groups of fillies, the occasional colt, and assorted seat-filling stuffed toys were treated to sunny weather, fresh crumpets and dainty little cookies while enjoying their tea.

“ … It’s not that I’m upset that WE didn’t get labelled the ringleaders and put on foalsitting duty to keep us busy,” Pipsqueak continued, “it’s just that I put a lot of effort into my studies, and Scootaloo and Dinky …” He trailed off as years of Trottingham etiquette training left him with no viable course forward. Instead, he shrugged meaningfully and took a sip of tea.

Across the circular table, Apple Bloom frowned. “Scootaloo just learns better on the go, that’s all. It’s a Pegasus thing. And anyways, we oughta count ourselves lucky Majesty didn’t-” A high-pitched and excited conversation cut Bloom off.

“Oh, Peachy! That’s so amazing!”

“Thanks, Sunny! I’m so proud!”

Bloom glared over her shoulder at them. “As I was sayin’ …”

Sunny and Peachy’s shrill delight drowned her out completely. Again.

“How did you do it? It’s incredible!”

“I just started drawing, and here we are! But you helped, Sun-Sun! You kept the paper steady!”

“Aww, anytime, Peach! I just love watching you draw!”

Bloom plodded over to the Earth Pony fillies’ table, followed by Pip. “Peachy Pie. Sunny Daze. We’re having kind of an important talk, here. Do ya think you could keep it down, a bit?”

“If it’s not too much of a bother!” added Pip. He stepped closer to the two sunshine-coloured fillies’ table. “What’s got you two so excited, anyway? A drawing? Mind if I have a-” Pip reared up to peer at the paper. What he saw made him cry out in shock.

“Pip? What is it?” Bloom reared up to stand by his side and examine the paper. “ … Sweet Celestia!”

Sunny’s drawing was a crude rendition of Princess Twilight Sparkle in pink and purple and fuchsia crayon. The stick-legged, fan-winged Alicorn was moving around on the page by itself.

“Peel ‘n’ core me!” Bloom whispered. “How did ya do that?”

“I dunno!” Peachy replied. “Like I said, I just started drawing, to make something to give to Princess Twilight as a gift for when she got back from her trip, and then it started moving by itself!”

Pip leaned a little closer to the clumsy drawing. “Princess Twilight? Can… can you hear me?”

The tiny Princess trotted toward the foreground until she was much larger, sat down, and then gestured at her dot-eyed face with her irregular hooves.

Bloom narrowed her eyes. “Peachy, draw the mouth.”

“Wait…!” Sunny said.

Everypony froze.

Sunny nudged the others aside and got back into position holding down the sides of the paper. “Okay, I’ve got you covered, Peachy!”

“Thanks, Sunny!”

“Think nothing of it!”

Pip frowned. “Would you please...?”

Peachy picked up her dark purple crayon in her teeth and carefully applied a slash of a mouth to the doodle.

It opened wide at once, and jumbled squeaks came out. The foals strained to hear, but as their heads touched from leaning so close to the paper, their focused expressions slackened into disappointment.

“She’s just babbling!” Pip said. “I can’t make out a word of it!”

Bloom tapped her chin while she watched the squeaking Princess wave her hooves and spread her crooked wings and flick her rigid tail. “Hmm. Somethin’s definitely weird, here.” She sighed. “What would Dinky and Pinch do about this?”

“Well,” Pip considered, “I suppose they’d try and investigate it?”

Bloom nodded. “And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.” She turned to their cheerful classmates. “Sunny. Peachy. How would you two like to bring that drawing to the clubhouse and help solve a mystery?”

“Gosh, I’m not sure,” Sunny replied. “It won’t be a scary mystery, will it?”

“We don’t like scary mysteries,” Peachy said. The two of them leaned closer to each other for comfort.

Pip and Bloom shared a sidelong stare, and then turned the same neutral gaze at the two fillies.

“Nope,” said Bloom. “It will not be scary at all, I reckon.” She spoke as if reading off a card.

“It will be just fine, most likely,” added Pip, just as awkwardly.

Peachy and Sunny were silent for the span of two blinks, and then burst into a shared “YAY!”

Sweetie squealed as she lost the last of her traction and slid down the mud-slicked slope. Pinch tried to catch her with magic, but the head-swing to bring her horn to bear made her start sliding as well. Spike watched the two Unicorn fillies drop for half a second before shrugging and diving belly-first after them.

The uneven sunlight peeking through the dense canopy of the Everfree Forest strobed over the group as they slid. They came to a filthy but unharmed stop in a boggy lowland basin. Sweetie popped up from a mud puddle and spit out a mouthful of muck with a sour grimace. “Well, we did wanna get down here, anyway,” she said. “At least we saved some time?”

Pinch wiped the mud out of her eyes with a foreleg and spoke while checking to make sure the books in her mud-caked saddlebags were intact. “That’s the spirit. Positive attitude is important in a survival situation. Helps keep you alert, in case of swamp monsters.”

“Swamp monsters?” Spike perked up. “What KIND of swamp monsters?”

Pinch smirked. “Do you REALLY want me to list them all?”

Spike and Sweetie both shook their heads.

“Zecora’s supposed to have a home built into a big swamp tree, right?” Pinch slowly turned a circle, examining the area. “Well, it won’t be up on high ground, all the hills are too narrow. And it won’t be in the water, Zecora wouldn’t want to live knee-deep in mud. So, we’re looking for a low, flat chunk of dry land. Probably not too far from here. We just need to stay calm, and keep our eyes peeled for deep water, giant bugs, snakes—”

“Cragodiles...!” Spike interjected.

“Oh, totally!” Sweetie agreed.

“NO!” Spike frantically pointed and waved back toward the slope they’d just slid down. “Cragodiles! OVER THERE!”

Two of the long, low, bulky beasts were heaving themselves up to the top of the hill, and soon teetered at the tipping point. Their streamlined bodies would no doubt make the slide twice as quickly as the trio had.

“Aw, shoot!” Pinch grunted. “Musta been tracking us! RUN! Stay out of the water!”

The three of them turned and bolted into the swamp just as the massive reptiles rocketed down the slippery hill.

With fleeing prey to focus on, the cragodiles charged as quickly as their stubby legs could carry them. Every patch of muddy land bogged down their progress, but every span of water gave them a hefty speed boost. Within a minute they were close enough that Sweetie, Pinch and Spike could hear their ragged, growling breaths behind them.

“Look!” Spike cried out. “Up ahead! I think that’s it!”

“HURRY!” Sweetie screamed. She galloped full-tilt, eyes down, leading with her little horn. “Almost there!”

Ahead, a wide patch of vividly blue flowers separated the fleeing trio from the pursuing beasts. Spike’s eyes went wide. “Oh, No…! Don’t touch those flowers! We gotta jump ‘em!”

Pinch took in the broad field with a panicked wince. “We’ll never make it over!”

“No choice!” Spike cried. “On three! One… two…!”

Three came at the edge of the patch. Sweetie, Spike and Pinch leaped hard enough to kick up divots, soaring over the swaying blossoms. The world slowed down at they dived and the cragodiles rampaged into the flowers.

The three of them tumbled to a landing on the far side of the patch. The cragodiles didn’t.

Sweetie picked herself up and shook off a faceful of moist soil. “Whah…? Where’d they go?”

Pinch lay on her side, catching her breath. “Hahh… d-dunno…”

Spike popped up from the ruins of a shattered clay vase. “Ow.”

Back in the flowers, one of the cragodiles rose into view. It was now barely Spike’s size, but also bloated as round as a party balloon. As it slowly rose skyward, the other beast leaped up to snap at it. It was now twice as long and a tenth the width, thinner than a garter snake. Balloon and string both floated off on the swamp-scented breeze, wriggling feebly.

“So, uh, good call on the flowers,” Pinch said.

Before Spike could answer, the tree-home’s rounded door swung wide, and the Zebra they’d been searching for stepped out into the dappled light. She frowned in concern. “What gives you young ones cause to roam as far as coming to my home?”

Spike brushed broken pottery off his shoulders. “It’s a long story.”

Pinch nodded. “But you REALLY need to hear it.”

“Can we come in?” Sweetie added. “Please?”

Zecora’s only reply was a warm smile as she stepped aside from the open doorway.

“GET IT OFF ME! AAHGH!” Scootaloo leaped and bucked as an Earth Pony baby gripped her neck with all four of his legs and gnawed on her left ear. “Ow! Knock it off!”

“Little busy!” The Dink shouted back as she backed into a corner on her hind legs. She had her saddlebags and the important investigative tools they contained hoisted high, out of reach of drooling, gumming, teething jaws.

Scootaloo scraped the baby off by rubbing against a large teddy bear sitting in the opposite corner. She leaped to dodge two more infants lunging in to take his place. “Sh-Sheesh…! Do they do ANYTHING apart from chew on stuff?”

The Dink glanced down at the many visible diapers. “Nothing good.”

“This isn’t gonna work,” Scootaloo lamented. “We can’t keep this up, and if we tire out they’ll take us down for sure! We need to distract them with something!”

“Like what?” The Dink snapped back. “We can only handle giving bottles to a couple of them at a time, and the rest will get the drop on us while we do that! How am I supposed to get the attention of a whole herd of-” She caught herself. A cunning gleam shone in her eyes, and she took a deep breath to let out a hearty bellow: “Hay, you babies! Do you like … STORYTIME?”

The whole swarm stopped and stared, frozen save for the slow oozing of drool here and there.

The Dink cracked a smile. “Y-Yeah, that’s right!” she continued. “Why don’t I tell you all a really cool story while Scootaloo gets the bottles ready?” She stared pointedly at her comrade on those last few words.

Scootaloo’s relieved smile wilted. “What? Me? Why do I hafta…?”

“Hay, if you got any stories memorized, be my guest.”

The Pegasus rolled her eyes. “You win this round.” She spoke up, and put on a cheery tone. “Ooh! Ooh! What’s the story, Dinky-winky? What’s the story?”

The Dink glared at the nickname, but took it in stride. “Well, let’s see! I could tell you the Dark Tale of The Doomed…” She paused. “Uh, wait. I mean, the Grim Account of The Screaming… um...” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Or The Legend of The Bloody… ah...” She frowned.

“What’s the hold up?” Scootaloo pressed as she fumbled a load of empty baby bottles toward the icebox in one corner. “They’re losing interest!”

The Dink fidgeted in place. “Most of my stories aren’t safe for babies! They’ll freak out if I tell them!”

Scootaloo sighed in frustration. “Didn’t your mom tell you any nice stories when you were little?”

A faint blush coloured The Dink’s cheeks. “I … I guess, yeah. There’s one, at least.”

“Tell it!” Scootaloo pressed. “PLEASE!”

The Dink sagged in defeat. “ … Fine.” She took a slow, deep breath, and then focused on the crowd once more. “Okay … let me tell you a really old story that my granny told my mom when she was little, and then she told it to me when I was little.” The Dink sat down and shimmied a bit close to the now rapt herd of infants. She cleared her throat, and then began.

“Once upon a time, long long ago, a little duckling was very sad because he thought he was the ugliest amongst all his brothers and sisters…”

While foals raced and shouted and played in the town square, a table in one corner was reserved for business.

The Earth Pony filly swished her multi-coloured tail and frowned. “Do you have the gingersnaps with you? Are they already baked?”

Apple Bloom frowned back. “We’re good for it, Toola Roola. Apples always keep their word. Now, can you do some art for us, or not?”

Toola huffed and raised her chin. “Hmph! Of course I can DO it! It’s not about skills. It’s about … integrity!”

Bloom raised an eyebrow. “How’s that, now?”

“I am an artiste!” Toola said with the firm press of a front hoof to her chest. She put a Prench accent on the word. “I won’t take a commission, even for the most delicious kind of cookies, unless I feel inspired by the request.”

Bloom picked up her cup and took a sip of tea before responding. “We need you to fix up a magical living portrait of Princess Twilight Sparkle so we can talk to it.”

Toola had sipped her tea shortly after Bloom did, and she made a heroic effort not to choke on the mouthful as Bloom explained the situation. She swallowed hard and put down her cup. “I see. Yes. Well.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I guess I could give it a try. But I expect a full baker’s dozen for my trouble.”

“Done an’ done. Pleasure doin’ business with you.” Bloom gave a firm nod, and then spit on her right hoof and offered it to seal the deal.

Toola draped her napkin over her own hoof before obliging. “Quite.”

Spike, Pinch and Sweetie, now freshly scrubbed with herb-infused water and air-drying on cushion-like patches of soft moss, sat in a semicircle around the books they’d risked so much to retrieve. Spike and Pinch flipped through pages in search of answers, while Sweetie explained their plight to their hostess.

“ … And just like that, she … she turned Gabby to stone.” Sweetie’s eyes lowered. “She didn’t even care. She might as well have been swatting a horsefly.” She stifled a shudder. “We decided to look up Griffon history because of the things Gabby said. She knew Majesty was bad news.” After a pause, Sweetie made sure to mention this time: “She called her Blue Flowers Five.”

Zecora stood nearby, smoothly stirring a cauldron of nourishing root stew. She slowly nodded as she glanced out a round window with a view of the patch of Poison Joke blossoms. “Blue flowers can be a source of woe, it’s true. I’m so sorry this trouble has come to you.” She gave the bubbling concoction another stir.

“It’s okay,” Spike said. “If we can get some answers, maybe we can start to figure this out.”

They were all silent for a time. The crackling fire under the cauldron, the bubbling of the stew and the whisper of turning pages were the only sounds.

Pinch’s exclamation went off like a firecracker: “FOUND IT!”

Spike and Sweetie tumbled off their moss-pads in shock. Zecora stiffened but stayed upright. All three crowded in to look at Pinch’s discovery. Their eyes darted back and forth over the faded, archaic script.

“No way …” Spike said softly. “Oh, that’s horrible!” He partly shielded his eyes with his claws.

“No WONDER Gabby was so scared!” Sweetie added.

Pinch narrowed her eyes. “Zecora, will you come with us back to Ponyville? I know it’s risky, but we … we kinda really need a grown-up right now.”

“Go back?” Spike asked. “Already? But we just got here!”

Pinch nodded. “These stories are ancient, but if Majesty is even RELATED to a Pony this bad, every foal in town is in danger. We’ve got to do something.” Her hard expression slowly softened, betraying a trace of anxiety.

Zecora moved closer and rested a hoof on Pinch’s shoulder. “For Ponyville, no risk’s too great. I’d be happy to infiltrate. We’ll go and learn what Majesty’s plotting while we avoid her watchful spotting.”

“All right!” Sweetie said with her first genuine smile in some time.

Spike said nothing, since he was busy soothing his worries with a large helping of stew.

Apple Bloom, Pipsqueak, Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie all sat in a semicircle in the CMC clubhouse, staring at Toola Roola staring at an easel. The crude drawing of the Princess was taped onto a blank canvas, with Twilight currently motionless. A plate of fresh gingersnaps sat on a low stool next to Toola, and a wet brush jutted out of her mouth.

After another minute or two, Bloom frowned and turned to whisper to Pip. “She still hasn’t done anything!”

“I’m not certain how long paintings usually take, to be honest,” Pip offered with a shrug. “Perhaps this is normal?”

“Now I’m whispering, too!” Sunny said to Peachy while cupping her hooves to her mouth. Her volume barely dropped; more stage-whisper than regular.

“Oh! Oh! Let me try!” Peachy stage-whispered back. “I’m speaking very, VERY quietly!”

Toola stiffened. “Do you MIND? I can hear all of you, you know.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t mean to rush you,” Pip said.

“It’s just we’ve kinda got a situation goin’ on here in town, in case ya didn’t notice,” added Bloom. “We really need your help.”

Toola inhaled to retort but then froze, wide-eyed. “Yes! That’s it!” She whirled back around and immediately began to paint in bold, sweeping brush-strokes.

“Guess she found her inspiration.” Bloom whispered.

Once the work finally began, it proceeded at a frantic pace. Toola’s Cutie Mark all but glowed as she plied her destined trade. Little by little, splashes of colour coated the clumsy crayon doodle, adding definition and details. A poker-straight, striped mane. A tastefully regal coronation dress. The Crown of Harmony. And the bright-eyed, smiling face of the world’s second-youngest Alicorn.

The moment Toola dabbed a final speck of white as a gleam in the Princess’s eye, the painted eyelids fluttered in startled blinks.

Toola cried out in shock and stumbled backward. Her brush clattered on the wooden floor.

After a few moments more, the upgraded portrait melted and flowed to life on the paper, and Princess Twilight Sparkle shook her head to clear it.

Bloom stepped closer to the living art. “Princess…! Princess Twilight! Can ya hear us?”

Twilight squinted in confusion. “Huh…? Oh! Cwēn Mǣrþu! Géowine! Ic ācnāwan nā …”

“Hee hee! She’s talking silly!” said Sunny.

“Ooh! Fun!” said Peachy. “Let’s all try! Gabba hooba bloop bloop!” She rolled and crossed her eyes.

Toola glared sidelong at the pair. “It’s not silly talk, it’s Old Ponish!”

“You can tell?” Pip asked. “What’s she saying?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I never learned, I’ve just heard it being sung at the opera a lot.”

“Princess?” Bloom said, a little louder than the group’s past whispering. “Twilight, do you recognize us?”

The painted Princess squinted again, and a sharper brightness slowly lit up in her depthless eyes.

“Girls…? Pipsqueak?” She gasped. “Oh…! Majesty! Where’s Majesty?”

“She’s not around,” Pip said. “You’re safe here.”

Twilight frowned. “Hmm. That’s too bad.”

Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Too bad? How’s that, now? She blew up the train and locked you all away!”

Twilight smiled. “It’s nice of you foals to worry about me, but everypony’s fine here, I’m sure. This is obviously a stable adimensional phase-space with a two-dimensional boundary matrix.” When the young Ponies all stared blankly, she added: “Um, it’s pretty much an empty white void unless you have a flat likeness of yourself to make contact with the outside world. Your parents and everypony else are safe, and unless somepony’s speaking directly to a picture of them on a blank background, they aren’t even feeling the time pass.”

“That’s a … relief?” Bloom said. She looked to the others.

Pip nodded. “....Yes, I believe so? At least they safe and they aren’t worrying about us.” He looked up at Twilight again. “Princess Twilight, why did you want Majesty to be here? Isn’t she the one behind all these troubles?”

Twilight sighed. “Yes. And no. This is all just a big misunderstanding. You see, Majesty isn’t just any Unicorn.”

“That’s right — she’s the deadliest Pony who ever lived!”

Pinch’s words from the doorway drew the group’s attention. Sweetie and Spike stood by her sides, and Zecora brought up the rear.

Bloom gasped. “Girls! Spike! Yer awright!”

“They went as far as Everfree,” Zecora said, “just so they could come and get me.”

The painted Twilight glanced at the new arrivals. “Zecora! It’s great to see you! I was just telling the little ones, here, about the confusion over Queen Majesty. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses any moment and undo this spell. How long has it been, anyway? A few minutes? An hour?”

Pip fidgeted. “Er, actually it’s closer to a couple of DAYS, Miss Princess Twilight, Ma’am.”

Twilight stared wide-eyed. “Wh-What…? That’s impossible! Queen Majesty wouldn’t just LEAVE us in here! She’s Ponykind’s most beloved pre-classical ruler!”

“Why hadn’t any of us heard of her, then?” Bloom asked with a tilt of her head.

Pinch shrugged. “Ancient history class isn’t until next year. I know, ‘cause I was looking forward to learning about the Dragon Wars.” Her expression darkened. “But we did some research on our own time. We know the REAL truth.” She took out the Griffon history tome and held it up. “If she’s the ancient Pony in this book, she’s a super-evil witch-queen.”

“She’s a killer! A monster!” Sweetie agreed. “Prey-That-Hunts! Pale Death! Blue Flowers Five!”

Twilight frowned. “Did you get that from my library? Oh, girls… history books can be REALLY biased. You should SEE the way they talk about Princess Celestia in there!”

Sweetie stepped closer to the easel. “But… she’s keeping all of you grown-ups locked away! She won’t listen when we try to explain things — she just sings to trip it all up! And… and she turned Gabby Griffon to STONE!”

Sunny and Peachy hugged in terror and let out paired squeals of worry.

Twilight drew back, shrinking on the white poster-paper. “That’s … terrible!” She fixed her stance. “I have to get to the bottom of this. I need to talk to the Queen right away!"

“Are you sure that choice is wise?” Zecora asked with a glance at the old book. “It’s said whomever scorns her, dies.”

Twilight sighed. The paper rippled from her breath. “She’s from another time, another age. Life was … harder, then. Now that I think about it, I guess it makes sense she’d be more, ah, harsh. But Ponykind only EXISTS today because of her. She was saving the world before Celestia and Luna were even BORN. If we can get the chance to explain things, I’m sure she’ll understand!”

“I hope you’re right, Princess,” Pinch said as she slowly crept toward the plate of cookies.

Toola swatted Pinch’s reaching hoof with a paintbrush. “Don’t even THINK about it.”

“I hope so, too,” Sweetie said anxiously, “If this doesn’t work, we’re out of options.”

“... He had been mocked for his ugliness, and now he heard them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. The trees bent to the water to see him, and even the sun seemed to shine brighter on him. He rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart, ‘I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling!’” The Dink swallowed down a slight lump in her throat. “Uh… the end.”

The gathered infants had been spellbound all the while, but instead of applause the room was filled with the sounds of happy suckling. All the hungry infants had bottles, and the rest sat happily or chewed on various teething toys.

Scootaloo heaved a wearied sigh. “Nice work, Dink. It was touch-and-go for a while, there.”

“Yeah. It was a close one, for sure.” She carefully, quietly stepped among the pacified babies, checking for signs of fresh rebellion or un-fresh diapers. “Round two is coming soon, though. And it’s gonna be even worse.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Scootaloo replied. “I know we don’t hang out all that often, but you’re pretty cool, you know that, Dink? You really take after your mom.”

The Dink stared blankly. “What.”

“Uh, your mom?” Scootaloo repeated. “You know, the record-breaking flyer and combat veteran with all the medals?”

“Okay, pretty sure you’re mixing me up with somepony else, now. My mom is Derpy. Hooves.” She said the name slowly and clearly. “The delivery mare who likes baking stuff and knitting me kinda-embarrassing scarves? Like, don’t get me wrong, my mom is awesome. But cool…?”

“Yeah, Dink. Derpy. Hooves.” Scootaloo said it just as clearly. “She used to be a junior racer when she was our age. She won like, ALL the trophies, before her eyes, uh… y-you know.” Scootaloo cleared her throat. “It took Rainbow Dash a whole extra YEAR to catch up and break her records. And later, Derpy volunteered to join the Wonderbolts to fight that huge demon monster guy, Tirek. Oh, and she saved Princess Twilight’s life when the Storm King invaded Canterlot.”

The chorus of suckling seemed to echo in the nursery. The walls loomed skyward. The Dink sat down heavily. “My mom …?” A frown pulled her from the fugue. “Wait, how do you know all this stuff?”

“Uh, I’m kind of a huge Rainbow Dash fan,” Scootaloo said with a soft blush. “I’ve looked up everything about her, from her races as a filly to all kinds of Wonderbolts stuff. Your mom kept popping up again and again. And Apple Bloom and Sweetie and I were in Canterlot when that invasion went down.” She tilted her head. “Didn’t YOU know about it?”

The Dink blushed, now. “Uh, w-well, YEAH, of course…!” She forced a chuckle. “I just don’t like to make a big deal about it. Don’t want the other foals to get jealous, right?” She chuckled again, and then rubbed a front leg with the other foreleg while glancing away. Her eyes locked onto one of the teethers. “Hay. Wait a second…”

She picked up an unattended toy, and deftly swapped it for the baby’s chosen item like a tomb-exploring heroine trading a golden idol for a bag of sand. The baby seemed none the wiser.

“What’s up?” Scootaloo asked. She trotted closer.

The Dink held up her prize. “Look familiar?” It was yet another of the stony grey puzzle-pieces. "This is the third one of these things I've found."

“All right, that’s weird.” The Pegasus followed The Dink over to a baby-sized table covered in messy hoof-paintings. “What now?”

“Hold on...” The Dink laid out the pieces she’d found so far, and started seeing if anything fit. After a few adjustments, she got lucky. “...Score!”

The three jigsaw shapes locked together almost seamlessly, forming a rough triangle. With more surface area, the fillies could make out some rough detail on the smooth grey. A faint darker curve. Subtle shade that suggested a domed almond shape.

Scootaloo squinted. “You know, that kinda looks like-”

Suddenly, a wide yellow eye with a crimson iris snapped open on the stone, and blinked several times.

“Waugh…!” Scootaloo leaped back, covered her mouth with her front hooves, and awkwardly teetered and tottered in an effort to avoid stepping on any babies.

The Dink looked down at the eerie discovery and slowly cracked a wide smile. “What now? I’ll tell you what now. Two words, Scoots: Scavenger. Hunt.”