The worst part of living in a tree, Twilight decided, was that there was no escaping the cheerful racket that the birds made to greet the day. Granted, dawn was often a distant memory by the time she surfaced, but today, she still resented the noise. She groaned and reluctantly opened one crusted eye to glare at the little clock ticking away innocently on her nightstand. Nearing eleven. Although she was tempted to pull her pillow back over her head and try to shut out the day, the light behind her curtains was too bright to ignore.

Throwing back the covers, she reached for her worn dressing gown to ward off the chill she always felt on emerging from her snug cocoon and stumbled into the bathroom. As she splashed water on her face, she could hear the irregular thumps of Spike re-shelving books downstairs. Dear little dragon! He was such a good friend to her.

Dear all of them. Her friends... Ponyville. She pulled back her curtains and stepped out onto the little balcony, the sudden burst of light searing her eyes. Below her, ponies trotted about their daily business much as they always had. All so normal.

Princess Celestia's words had worried her. The events in Coltenhagen were eerily similar to those of Tempelhoof a year before. And Hocksford before that. The only questions were what, and possibly why. This wasn't some narcissistic megalomaniac like Discord or Nightmare Moon who stood directly in front of everypony and dared them to resist, but instead a silent, creeping, seemingly formless threat that struck and then dissolved like mist.

She grinned mirthlessly at herself. The problem with the unknown was that it left your imagination to run wild, and imagination could lead you anywhere if you let it. Knowing is half the battle, she thought sardonically.

Investigate, Celestia had asked her. Investigate very, very carefully. Trust your instincts, but question everything, even the mundane and familiar. And leave notes of everything you do, regularly and somewhere safe.

It was the last instruction, so strangely specific, that had truly unnerved her. She had pressed Princess Celestia to explain and, after a pregnant pause, the Princess' evasive answer at once terrified and intrigued her. Twilight wasn't the first pony to explore this mystery. Some of those who had tried over the years had softly and suddenly vanished away, just like the other victims.

It had already been late by the time the royal chariot had returned her to the library, but that fear had driven her to stay up almost to dawn, poring through her books for a clue, any clue. The burn of her still red-rimmed eyes reminded her of the hours of fruitless work. Well, not wholly fruitless, perhaps. She had managed to rule a few things out, but that left a pantheon of others and, of course, the unknown.

She shook herself. Daylight. Time to be practical. As she turned to go back inside, she realised that the wagon was missing from her paddock. Idly, she wondered if the two grey ponies had found somewhere else to stay or if they had just moved on to Canterlot. They seemed nice enough, if a little shy.

Question everything, even the mundane and familiar.

New ponies, unknown to anyone, who just suddenly happened to appear in Ponyville the day that the Princess summoned her? Any suspicions were pure paranoia – at this stage – but that didn't mean that she shouldn't investigate.

Enough. Her first priority was to find her friends and ask their help. Princess Luna had been reluctant to let the news spread even that far, fearing panic amongst ordinary ponies if the story should leak out, but Twilight had insisted that she would need their eyes and ears to help her, and if she should need the Elements of Harmony then their bearers needed to be fully aware of what was going on. After all, what was friendship without trust?

Right, priorities.

Better make a list.

“Are you sure about all this, sugar cube? I mean, it does sound a bit like Nightmare Night stories to scare the foals, doesn't it?”

Rarity grimaced at her friend's characteristically tactless question, but she had to admit that Applejack had a point. She had been intrigued when Twilight had gathered them all at Fluttershy's cottage, claiming to have something so secret to tell them that she couldn't risk anypony overhearing, but the tale that emerged was so woolly and far-fetched that Rarity would have assumed it was a joke had it come from anypony else.

“While I wouldn't quite have put it like that, Twilight darling, I must agree that it's all a little fanciful,” she said delicately.

Twilight sighed. “I know, and that's part of the problem; so far, we have nothing to go on. However, the same circumstances keep reoccurring, and Princess Celestia feels that she must do something to stop it. Ponies are dying.”

“Well yeah, but why is she worried about Ponyville? Whinneapolis, Coltenhagen, they're all miles away from here. And Tempelhoof? That's just stupid!” snorted Rainbow Dash. She crossed her front legs and made a show of looking bored, but Rarity had noticed her rapt attention while Twilight spoke.

“It may not be. One of the factors linking all these incidents is an untamed woodland area in close proximity to the town; I mean, you don't get much more untamed than the Everfree Forest, right? Ponyville's just one place of many that it could be, so Princess Celestia has asked me to be on the lookout for anything strange – and I need you to help me.”

“So whatever's out there could be looking in on us right now?” asked Fluttershy, with a tiny squeak of dismay. Rarity felt the timid Pegasus' wing brush her side as she tried to shuffle even closer into the circle of her friends.

“Possible, but unlikely,” said Twilight firmly. “For whatever reason, the pattern is usually the same. Firstly, things start to go missing. Put something down, and when you come back it's gone. That happens at random and may go on for weeks, but if it starts to focus on an individual pony, then that pony's in big trouble because the next thing to go missing is often the pony themselves.”

“What, they just vanish?” asked Applejack sceptically.

“Not exactly. Sometimes they've found... remains. I gather it's not pretty,” said Twilight queasily. From her tone, Rarity suspected that she knew rather more than she was letting on.

“Well, if nopony knows what happened to them, could it have just been really rotten luck? Like a really massively huge coinkydink?” suggested Pinkie.

Twilight shuddered. “No. Maybe if it was once or twice, but this has been going on, on and off, for generations. One of the biggest problems is working out what's significant. Sometimes there's a burst of things going missing and nothing else, sometimes a pony disappears without warning. Sometimes Celestia's been convinced that it's happened again, and months or years later they find a body that's obviously died of an accident.”

“Do we not have any clues at all? I mean, surely somepony must have seen the ruffians indulging in this foul business?” asked Rarity.

“Well... somepony said that they'd seen some sort of strange shadow hanging around, once,” said Twilight reluctantly.

The rest of them waited for her to continue, but she said nothing more.

“That it?” demanded Applejack? “A shadow? Ain't nopony asked 'em what they meant?”

Twilight's discomfort became even more obvious. “That was a little difficult. He went missing.”

“And they couldn't find him?” asked Rainbow Dash. Rarity winced – she had a feeling that none of them wanted to know the answer to that question.

“A few weeks later, somepony found a leg and a few other bits in the forest. That was all.”

By now, Twilight was looking positively sick, and Rarity felt much the same. How simply ghastly! Looking over, she saw that dear Fluttershy looked like she was about to pass out. Rarity turned and gave her a bracing smile and a hug, which got a timid “Thanks.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Pinkie.

“What do we do now? We go find this thing, then kick its flank all the way back where it came from, that's what!” said Rainbow Dash. “No stupid shadow-”

“No!” Twilight barked, “We don't charge about looking for this thing because you really, really don't want to find it!”

“Then what do you want us to do, sugar cube?” asked Applejack, tossing her head in frustration. “Ain't no use telling us if you won't let us help?”

“I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear of anything going missing, from a mane pin upwards; tell me. If anypony mentions anything out of the ordinary; tell me, no matter how trivial it might seem. Chances are, we haven't got anything to worry about, but if we do, the sooner we know the sooner we can alert the Princess. Lastly; Fluttershy, I want you to think about moving into Ponyville. You're very isolated out here.”

“Oh no, I couldn't do that, Twilight!” Fluttershy protested gently. “Who would look after all the little animals? I can't just leave all the birds so soon before hatching.”

“You said yourself there's no need to worry just yet. Why make her move until we know there's something to worry about?” pointed out Rainbow Dash. “And what about Zecora? She's right in the Everfree Forest itself, you gonna ask her to move, too?”

“That's a good point, Rainbow, I should go and talk to Zecora, too. OK, stay here for the time being, Fluttershy, but if things start disappearing you're coming into Ponyville if I have to drag you there myself!”

“What about the rest of Ponyville? When you gonna tell them?” asked Applejack.

Twilight took a deep breath, “I'm not. Princess Celestia doesn't want to cause an unnecessary panic,” she said over the protests of the other ponies. “Princess Luna didn't even want me to tell you.”

“So instead of potentially pointlessly panicking plenty of ponies, we do top-secret, super-important, super-sleuthing ourselves!” cheered Pinkie. Somehow, as Pinkie often managed to do, she had inexplicably produced a deerstalker hat and grotesquely large meerschaum pipe. “Look out, Mr. Spooky, because Pinkie 'Pinkerton' Pie is on the case!”

Rarity saw Twilight's front leg twitch, like she had to restrain the urge to clap a hoof to her face. “Discreetly, Pinkie!”

“Don't worry, Twilight, 'Discretion' is my middle name!” said Pinkie, striking a heroic pose and blowing bubbles from her pipe.

“Pinkie, Diane's your middle name!” Applejack pointed out, trying to hide her grin. Pinkie just waved a dismissive hoof.

“Details, my dear Applejack, mere details. Now come, my friends! The game is ahoof!”

With that, Pinkie bounded exuberantly through the door and out into the evening air. Rarity heard a moan of frustration from Twilight followed by the soft thump of hoof meeting forehead, and she had to resist a grin. While Pinkie was a good friend, she could be mind-bendingly weird at times.

“So has any of you seen anything strange recently? Other than the return of Sherclop Hooves, obviously?” Twilight asked the others acidly, jerking a hoof in the direction of the departed Pinkie.

The ponies looked around at each other in silence, until Fluttershy cleared her throat nervously. “Well... um... a few days ago I was out behind Applejack's place late at night looking for an injured eagle owl, and I saw this great big huge creaking thing coming up the road from Fillydelphia-”

Rarity saw Twilight's eyes light up, and she whipped a notebook out of her saddlebags with her magic and started scribbling.

“-but it just turned out to be a wagon pulled by a couple of strange ponies. They went on towards Ponyville and I don't know what happened to them.”

Twilight broke off, dejectedly closing her notebook again. “I met those two; that's Silver Braise and Summer Clip. They're just perfectly ordinary ponies.”

“Are you quite sure about that, dear? Celestia knows, we mustn't turn our backs on strangers, but we must still exercise due caution,” said Rarity.

“I don't know her, but I do know him, right enough. In fact, he's doing some work for me up at the farm. Seems a right gentlecolt,” said Applejack.

“And you haven't noticed anything strange about him?” Twilight pressed.

Applejack rubbed her chin pensively. “Well, I don't know about strange...”

“You know what I said, Applejack, anything.”

“It's just... y'see, he's supposed to be a woodworker, but I took him up to meet Drop Forge to get some metal parts made, and old Drop Forge starts his usual carry-on. Well, Silver Braise pulled him right up, set him straight an' started on all sorts of fancy technical flim-flammery. Drop Forge looked mighty impressed, started chatting on like they was old buddies. If he's a woodworker, how in tarnation does he know all that stuff?”

Twilight chewed her lip for a moment before taking up her notebook again. “There's probably a really simple explanation. Probably,” she said, writing furiously.

“See, I told you it was stupid,” muttered Applejack.

“But I'll look into it, all the same,” said Twilight. “Anything else?”

Applejack snorted. “I did find the two of them at the fountain yesterday covered in icing, but I'm told that was a run-in with Pinkie Pie.”

“There may have been a teensy little misunderstanding with a cupcake and a catapult,” said Pinkie through the window, making them all jump.

“Ugh, I'm not even going to ask,” said Rainbow Dash, shaking her head.

Rarity had to disagree. If there was one thing that was comfortingly normal about all this, it was Pinkie Pie's unfathomable logic and surreal antics.

Summer Clip hummed softly to herself as a final, careful twirl of the brush finished outlining the last letter on the window of her new salon. Her very own salon! Granted it wasn't much, being the shell of a disused newsagents some way back from Mane Street, but after some wizardry from Silver all it needed was a thorough clean and a coat of paint and it would be more than adequate to start off with.

Dropping her brush in a jar of water, she stepped outside to admire her work.

She grinned to herself at the smaller text along the bottom of the window.

Perfect!

She heard a polite cough behind her, and turned to see an unfortunately-familiar pink pony standing in the street. She felt her ears flatten instinctively on her head, but the other pony remained unnaturally still.

“Hi there! You probably remember me, my name's Pinkie Pie,” she said in a half-whisper. “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong hoof the other day what with the cupcakes and everything, which is entirely my fault; I get a little carried away sometimes. Anyway, I wanted to tell you I'm really, truly, super-duper sorry about that and I'd like to make it up to you, so if you need a hoof with anything or there's anything I can do to help you, please just say the word.”

“Oh! Um...,” Summer took half a step back. This wasn't at all what she was expecting – although to be honest, she had no idea what to expect from the strange pink pony – but didn't everypony deserve a second chance? And she could certainly use the help. “Well, I'm trying to set up my salon, here. I just need to do some cleaning up, but that won't be much fun and I'm sure you've got more important things to do?”

Pinkie gave her a steady look. “Y'know, when I woke up this morning I had one really, really mega-important thing to do today. That was to make it up to you for doing something stupid and upsetting you when you're new to town and don't know anypony. So here I am.”

“Really?”

Pinkie's face broke into a wide smile. “Really! And as for cleaning not being any fun, well... I accept the challenge! Where do we start?”

Summer shook her head. “Well, thank you, but don't say I didn't warn you!”

She led the suddenly-exuberant Pinkie Pie inside and together they set about cleaning the surfaces grimy from months of neglect and sweeping up the sawdust and shavings from Silver's new stalls and cabinets.

Summer had to admit that Pinkie's hyperactive enthusiasm really did make the rest of the morning more fun – for example, she would never have thought to tie rags to her hooves, dumped sudsy water on the floor, and skate it clean – and her endless cheerful chatter was quite informative.

It turned out that the owner of the newsagents had been an ancient pony who ran it mostly to keep himself busy in his retirement. She was amused by Pinkie's description of it as, “One of those places that never had what you wanted if you went there specifically – except newspapers, of course, I mean it's a newsagents – but if you went there for a paper you always came out with a bag full of snacks and knick-knacks and candle wax and all sorts of other things you'd never intended on buying.”

The final coat of paint was finished after noon, and although Summer dropped her brush in relief, Pinkie's energy remained undimmed. “Wow, this place looks great! It's just missing two things!”

“Really? What's that?” asked Summer.

“Firstly; lunch! And secondly; customers! Don't worry, I can take care of both of those!”

“Wait a second!” said Summer feebly, trailing off as she realised that Pinkie's tail was already disappearing out the door at speed. With a sigh, she slumped backwards in resignation, and only some last-second fancy hoofwork prevented a tail-full of whitewash and pastels. Whatever was about to happen, that wouldn't have helped – although she wasn't sure if anything would. She got the impression that this would be a common feeling around Pinkie Pie.

A few ponies trotted past while she waited, some giving the salon a curious look and a couple waving when they saw her looking out, but it was nearly ten minutes later when she heard arguing voices approaching. Well, one arguing and the other sort of mumbling.

“...be getting back to work, I still have orders outstanding for Hoity Toity and his show's next week-”

“Mmph! Mphm-mmm-mrah!”

Pinkie trotted through the door with a large wicker picnic basket clutched in her teeth, followed by a gorgeous white Unicorn with a flowing indigo mane and tail who was the source of the genteel complaining. As Pinkie carefully put her burden down, the Unicorn stopped short with a theatrical gasp and looked around with a professional eye.

“Well, well, what have we here? This is new! Hallo, darling, perhaps you're the new pony who Twilight spoke of yesterday? My name's Rarity, proprietor of the Carousel Boutique.”

Summer blinked. “Rarity? From the article in last month's Cosmarepolitan?”

From the pleased look on the Unicorn's face, she knew that she'd said exactly the right thing.

“Well yes, but Cosmare borrowed the original article from Vogue Manehatten and added some shots from Photo Finish of course,” said Rarity, preening demurely.

“Summer Clip's opening her salon today and I thought if there's anypony in Ponyville that knows about style and every other pony looks up to around here about fashion, that would be you, Rarity, so wouldn't it be perfect if you were her very first customer? I mean, you're always saying that the Spa could do with a styling section and OK, so it's not the Spa, but now we have a real one so with some support everything will work out great!” said Pinkie breathlessly, bouncing on the spot. “Plus there's cupcakes!” she added, brandishing a chocolate-covered confection.

Summer, slightly bewildered by the avalanche of words, heard a minor noise of dismay from the Unicorn, who was glancing around like she was looking for a discreet exit. Obviously she was a little unsure about entrusting herself to a stranger and none too pleased at being put on the spot. Summer shook herself back to the present, and her professional side took over.

“Welcome to the salon! Unless you're looking for a new you, how about we just brush out the mane and tail and see where we are after a trim and tidy-up?” she said in a confident voice.

Rarity cleared her throat. “Well, it's possible I could do with a little straightening up here and there,” she said, forcing a light tone despite the death-glare she sent at Pinkie Pie. Pinkie, face-deep in another cake, ignored her, but Summer caught a desperate look in the Unicorn's eyes as she allowed herself to be led into a stall. Not the mane! Please, not the mane! it screamed. Taking a deep breath, she gathered up her tools and set to work with comb and brush.

“Wow, I love your mane! You're really lucky; the hair's so fine but hangs beautifully. You must have to brush a lot to avoid tangles. Do you style it yourself?”

It didn't take long to draw Rarity into a conversation as she worked, and soon they were chatting happily as Summer tidied up a couple of stray hairs and took a few millimetres off the end to avoid split ends before repeating the work on her tail. By the time she had set it in rollers to restore the style, she felt that she might have made another new friend.

After a break for lunch with Pinkie, Summer felt it was time for the next stage. This stuff was her bread and butter, but with a bit of luck perhaps she would have a chance to really show off her talent.

“Really, darling, this is just perfect! I do love my usual look, but getting everything just so when you're doing it yourself can be such a chore,” Rarity purred happily as she admired herself in the mirror, her relief almost palpable.

Summer took a deep breath. “If you're feeling a little adventurous, perhaps you'd like to try something new?”

The jangle of the doorbell downstairs startled Twilight out of her fierce concentration, jerking her back to reality like plunging into an ice-cold pool. She muttered a curse as she slid a bookmark into place and blinked her aching eyes. What now, she thought irritably.

She immediately felt guilty for her bad temper when she heard a familiar voice downstairs.

“Hallo Spike, dear! How are you today?”

There was a long pause. “Um...fine. Hi, Rarity.”

Spike could be rather bashful around Rarity at the best of times, but Twilight had to admit that her dragon assistant's voice sounded rather more strangled than normal. Grinning tiredly, she started down the stairs.

“Oh, good! I hope you got that Topaz stone I sent you last week? It was just a little something I picked up on a picnic with Pinkie. Is Twilight at home?”

“She's right here,” said Twilight, stumbling down the familiar stairs. “Hi, Rarity!”

“Twilight, darling! Are you quite all right? You look all done in, poor dear!” Rarity sounded shocked, and Twilight felt a small flush of embarrassment. She hadn't bothered brushing her mane this morning and had caught herself chewing the end of her quill on a couple of occasions.

“I'm fine, I've just been working,” said Twilight, running a self-conscious hoof through her mane.

Rarity gave her a penetrating look. “There's working, and then there's obsessing. You haven't been outside yet today, have you?”

Twilight could only look sheepish, knowing she was right. “This is important.”

“You'll get nothing done if you make yourself sick, dear. I know I probably can't convince you to spend an afternoon at the Spa, but at least make sure you get out and clear your head.”

“You really haven't got the hang of this 'obsession' thing yet, have you, Rarity?” said Spike, his usual sarcasm softened a little. “You know, that thing where you spend every waking second in a book until your head explodes?”

Twilight made a face at him. “I'm not that bad! Anyway, can I offer you a drink?”

Rarity followed her into the little kitchen and Twilight got the kettle on. Spike ambled away to do some tidying up, leaving the two of them alone.

“Good news! I've been doing some investigating for you,” said Rarity in a conspiratorial tone. “Thanks to the good offices of Pinkie, I got to meet your mysterious Summer Clip earlier.”

“Mysterious? That's stretching it a little, isn't it? Anyway, what did you find out?”

“Oh, she's opened a salon on Whitetail Lane, and I was her first customer,” said Rarity proudly.

Twilight couldn't see the importance. “And?” she asked, pouring their tea.

“And?!” Rarity repeated, flabbergasted. “And? Darling, she's an artiste! A virtuoso! A doyenne of the stylistic art, and I won't hear a word said against her!”

Twilight couldn't hide her scepticism. “That must have been one hay of a manecut!”

Rarity tossed her head and struck a catwalk pose. “Mane, tail, and just look at my flanks!”

Now that she looked closer at her friend, Twilight noticed that her coat was sleek and glossy, and starting in front of her hip was a tight pattern of diamonds which expanded out towards her tail, blending in her cutie mark perfectly. How it had been done, she wasn't sure, but it rippled bewitchingly in the light as Rarity moved.

“Rarity, it's beautiful!” she breathed reverently. “Is that permanent?”

Rarity smiled, turning to show off the other side. “Alas, no! But I feel that such a thing should be saved for important occasions, to keep it truly special. As for its creator, she's an honest small-town Unicorn with big dreams for the future, and if I'm any judge of a pony I dare say she shall achieve them, too!”

Twilight tried to hide a grin. “Reminds you of somepony, does she?”

Rarity laughed. “Perhaps, but I wouldn't call Ponyville such a small town.”

“So you're satisfied that you've 'exercised due caution' and she's not a threat now?”

Rarity tried to ignore her own words being thrown back at her. “I never said she was a threat, Twilight dear, simply that we should be careful. It seems that she and her friend are exactly as they appear to be, and so your search for the cause of Celestia's disquiet goes on. How are you progressing?”

Twilight sighed, rubbing her muzzle with a tired hoof. “I'm not. Spike and I have been through everything we can think of, but we simply don't have enough information.”

Rarity paused, sipping at her cup. “Then perhaps you shouldn't push yourself so hard until you do,” she said carefully.

“Like I said, this is important. Ponies' lives are at stake, and I'd hate to think that somepony died because I didn't bother doing some hard work. I'm good at this, Rarity. And the sooner I find out what this thing is, the sooner we can put a stop to it.”

Her friend looked at her in silence for a long moment. “Remember what I said about getting out of the house,” she said simply. “In fact, there's a party tonight at Sugarcube Corner for Summer Clip and Silver Braise. Do try to come along and relax for a few hours, it'll be good for you.”

Twilight smiled. “Pinkie must have made up with them, then? All right, I'll be there. In fact, I was supposed to see if I could find out a bit more about Silver Braise. Has Pinkie done invites?”

“Right here,” said Rarity, producing a hoofful of envelopes. “This one's yours... and one for Spike, of course... ah, here we go; Silver Braise. There was no sign of him earlier, so I suppose I shall have to try to find him about town.”

“Well, if you don't mind perhaps I could go and deliver it for you? I could do with a good trot and some fresh air, I think.”

Rarity simply stared at her in silence for a moment.

“What?” Twilight demanded, a little unsettled.

“Well... before you go visiting a stallion, dear, you should probably wipe that ink off the side of your muzzle. And comb your mane,” Rarity said delicately. Twilight felt herself blush like a tomato.

“Rarity! I'm just going to deliver a letter!”

“You're a perfectly good-looking young mare when you pay the slightest attention to your appearance, Twilight darling. Why, a little study on your deportment and you'd have the stallions flocking to your door, my dear!” Rarity protested, grinning.

Twilight knew she was being teased, but still couldn't get the colour out of her cheeks. “You've been reading those books again, haven't you? I'm delivering a letter,” she said firmly.

“But the second I leave, you're going to go straight to your toilette, aren't you?”

“Rarity!”

“All right, all right, I'll stop!” said Rarity, laughing. “I shall see you later, perhaps even with a big handsome stallion at your side.”

Twilight rolled her eyes in frustration as Rarity trotted out into the library to find Spike and pass on his invitation. Ridiculously, she was tempted to simply go as she was, but having had her attention drawn to her unkempt appearance, she couldn't bring herself to ignore it. Stupid!

Muttering under her breath, she stomped upstairs to clean herself up.

The Berry farm was looking lush again after its rather threadbare winter months. With the advent of spring, a thick parasol of leaves was back on the vines, all neatly whipped onto the growing frames, and the vines themselves were covered in sprigs of the tight little green balls which made up their flowers. Soon they would swell into the fruit which gave the farm its name and the Berrys their livelihood.

Twilight felt well and truly refreshed by the long trot down to Applejack's – being the only pony she knew who could tell her where to find her quarry – and then the journey back again. The uniform overcast and steady breeze meant that she didn't get too hot, but judging by the way she was puffing, perhaps a bit less time in the library was called for! Later, when she had more time, she told herself.

The long, low shack near the road was also looking a little smarter than usual, having been deserted and unloved for as long as she could remember. The shabby walls were neatened up with a coat of creosote and the missing tiles on the roof replaced, although she could still see the jumble of ancient, broken farm machinery behind it which farms often seemed to accumulate; half rubbish dump, half spare parts pile. It was a testament to the belief that you'd only find a use for something about a week after you'd got rid of it.

The big wagon standing empty to one side of the shack suggested that she'd found the right place, and the tall grey form working at something-or-other at the opposite end confirmed it. She slowed to a walk and turned up the farm's drive, and soon found a narrow path leading off to the shack. I'd better start thinking of it as Silver's house; shack is a little demeaning, she thought.

Closer now, she could hear an intermittent, high-pitched hissing underpinned by a steady low rumble. Reaching the clearing around the house, she saw Silver standing under the eaves, one hoof pumping industriously on some sort of treadle. He looked back over his shoulder, obviously hearing her hoofbeats.

“Oh! Miss Sparkle! I'm sorry, I, err..,” the big pony trailed off in consternation, setting something down on a little table and turning to face her properly, the rumble dying away. “What can I do for you?”

Twilight laughed good-naturedly at his confusion. “Oh please, my friends call me Twilight. I just thought I'd come out and play mail mare for the afternoon. There's a party this evening, and you're invited! In fact, I think you're one of the guests of honour!”

He looked rather different, Twilight thought, with his mane trimmed short and his forelock reduced to a crest between his ears. Even his tail had been cropped off close to his hocks.

“Me? And call me Silver; only my mother calls me Silver Braise. Usually when I've done something wrong.” He took the envelope from her gingerly, like he expected it to explode-

Hang on a minute, this was from Pinkie! Was that even possible? Even if it wasn't, somehow she wouldn't put it past her pink friend to find a way. She remembered the party cannon all too well.

Twilight snapped back to reality to realise that Silver had already extracted the invitation with a complete lack of pyrotechnics – thank Celestia! – and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Her relief was tempered when she noticed a small frown on his face.

“Pinkie Pie?” he asked neutrally.

“Yeah,” Twilight admitted. “I heard about Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie's really sorry about that.”

Silver gave her a surprisingly hard look. “I'm not the only one she needs to apologise to.”

Twilight shuffled awkwardly. “You mean Summer Clip? Pinkie's spent the whole day with her, helping her out with her shop,” she mumbled. “I think they're OK with each other now.”

Silver sighed. “Well, in that case it'd be rude to turn it down. Which reminds me, I never did get the chance to thank you for breakfast the other day.”

“That? Oh, that was nothing; you're welcome any time,” Twilight jumped on the chance to change the subject. “You should have seen what Applejack laid on for me on my first day in Ponyville! I could barely walk by the time I got away!” she giggled.

“I guess you're from Canterlot originally?” said Silver thoughtfully. Twilight blinked.

“How did you know that?” she demanded.

“Oh, just a guess. You being the Element of Magic who hangs out with the Royal Sisters and is the personal student of one of them was a bit of a hint, though. Miss 'Just a Librarian'!” he said drily.

“What? No! Um, well, I...,” Twilight floundered for a moment before pulling herself together, “I really am a librarian – after all, you've seen my library! The other stuff just sort of... happened.”

“Uh-huh? Sure!” Silver chuckled, shaking his head.

“Really!” said Twilight, desperately changing tack before it got any more embarrassing. “This place is looking good, you must have been really busy?”

Silver gave her an amused look but let it slide nonetheless. “Actually, the Berrys did most of the work, I just helped. It should be fully weather-proof now, and when I get the time I'll do some more work on the inside. This afternoon, I've just been unpacking and touching up my tools.”

“I'm not interrupting am I?”

“No, I'm pretty much finished anyway,” he said casually. He picked up a long, narrow chisel from the table and examined the edge critically, before leaning down and mouthing at the table. Twilight looked closer when he straightened, and spotted a long grey hair hanging from his teeth. He brought his head down sharply, drawing the hair over the edge, and Twilight saw a short fragment separate and tumble away into the dirt. Good grief, that thing was lethally sharp!

Silver gave a satisfied grunt, and started packing the tools into a soft pouch.

“That's quite a manecut you've had since I saw you last. Did Summer do that?” Twilight asked.

Silver grinned. “Yeah, but she makes it looks a lot more classy for her clients. I just want to keep it out of the equipment; getting your tail caught hurts! So, would you like the full two-bit tour?”

Inside, the hard-packed dirt floor had been swept clean and assorted machinery was clustered under the windows. A long bench on one wall was covered in neatly-arranged tools and cloth bundles like the one Silver was setting down now, and more tools hung on the walls. Everything had the look of well-tended order.

“It's a shame the windows aren't glazed, but I guess I'll just have to keep the shutters open during the day and hope for the best,” he said cheerfully.

Twilight prodded one of the heavy iron-framed contraptions cautiously, noting that many of them had treadles similar to the one Silver had been working outside.

“So this is what you had in the wagon? No wonder Rainbow said it was heavy!”

“Now you see why I said I couldn't replace any of it. Some of the big fancy workshops have a waterwheel to power everything, but I’m afraid this is a one pony-power outfit! On the bright side, I guess it won't flood.”

Twilight laughed. “Not around here, unless the whole of Ponyville's under water first.”

“And I've got my living quarters over there,” said Silver, pointing at a newly partitioned area in the corner. “All I need to do now is start making things. Especially if I want to sleep comfortably at night.”

“How do you mean?”

“You'd be surprised how comfortable a mattress you can make out of wood shavings, and that's one thing I'll never run out of.”

Twilight chuckled in surprise. “And what does your fillyfriend make of all that?”

Silver looked blank. “My who?”

“Summer Clip?” Twilight started to get the feeling that she'd put her hoof in it.

“Ah,” said Silver amiably, “She's not my fillyfriend.”

Twilight tried to fight down her blush. Oh yes, there she went, all right; another outbreak of hoof-in-mouth disease. “She's your... sister, then?”

“Nah. Well, not really. We've known each other forever, we sort of grew up together.”

“...Oh,” said Twilight quietly, feeling rather foolish.

Silver shrugged casually and changed the subject. “So, this party; fancy dress, eh?”

“Optional fancy dress,” Twilight corrected him, “Nopony ever goes dressed up, but Pinkie likes to put it in there just in case one day somepony does. If you do, though, Pinkie will love you forever – what am I saying, it's Pinkie; she'll probably love you forever anyway!”

“I see. What if I claim I'm going as a carpenter?”

Twilight laughed. “I've no idea! If you do, perhaps I'll tell her that I've come as a librarian! Why don't we find out?”

The party turned out to be an unqualified success – and also a source of endless amusement for Twilight's friends. Summer Clip had been chatty and outgoing, talking happily to everypony and striking up what looked like good friendships with Junebug and Cloud Kicker, while Silver Braise had tended to stick to the periphery, either playing cards with Big Macintosh and his buddies or just watching everypony else.

As for Twilight herself, she had been too tired to join in much, and soon her series of long days and late nights had caught up with her. At some point she couldn't quite remember, she had fallen asleep on a couch in the corner. Waking up in a deserted Sugarcube Corner having spent the night on the couch hadn't been so bad, but having Rainbow Dash fall over laughing as she explained that Silver had quietly found a blanket and tucked her in was mortifying!

Needless to say, Rainbow hadn't missed an opportunity to tease her since. Even Fluttershy had laughed, while Rarity kept giving her smug looks and rushing off to conspire with Pinkie Pie. About the only pony not to make a big deal about it was Applejack, and while the Earth pony had nodded and made understanding noises as Twilight's frustration and embarrassment at her friends' antics came tumbling out, she hadn't really offered much help.

“Look, sugar cube, you know they don't mean nothing by it. They're just havin' a little fun with you.”

“Do you see me laughing?” Twilight had snapped irritably.

“No, and neither do they; that's the problem! If you'd just laughed about it instead of workin' yourself up into such a tizzy, they'd have forgotten about it by now. You gotta learn to relax, Twi.”

Since then, she had kept herself to the library and focussed entirely on her research. Maybe they'd grow up and forget about it, she told herself crossly. She had more important things to worry about.

Macintosh watched the pony and trap approaching from Ponyville at a brisk trot and turn up the drive to the farm house. Yup, Silver. The trap was new, though. He stepped down off the veranda and went out to meet him.

“Hi there, Mac!” said Silver cheerfully, slowing to a walk.

“Howdy,” said Macintosh laconically, giving the grey pony a casual salute.

“I've got those new parts for your cider press – finally! If you like, I'll start fitting them. Does that Drop Forge always drag his hooves so much on orders?”

Macintosh grinned around the straw clutched in his teeth. “Yup. Ain't no hurryin' him, nohow.”

Silver shook his head. “It's not like he was overrun with work, either.”

Macintosh set off for the barn, giving Silver time and space to bring the little two-wheeled cart around and catch him up. He shouldered the door wide to let the grey pony trot right in, and then waited patiently while he unhitched himself.

“Got everything?” Macintosh asked.

“Right here!” said Silver, nodding at the little cart.

Macintosh nodded absently. “Sis is collectin' little sis from school. Won't be long.”

“Well, I'll get started, then. Maybe I'll be finished by the time she gets back.”

“Holler if you need me,” said Macintosh. Time to give the pony some space, let him do his thing.

He ambled back to the house, thinking pensively. Time for Granny's afternoon tea; with luck, he could get her out of the house. The sun wasn't too bright today, and the fresh air would do her good.

It took a while to get her settled, having dragged her rocking chair outside and shared the first cup with her, but just as Granny drifted off for a nap, he heard Apple Bloom's high, clear voice from the house, telling her big sister about her day. He smiled gently at the two fillies' shared laughter as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Hey there, little sis,” he said, giving her a playful nuzzle, “'Nother busy day?”

Apple Bloom giggled and wrapped her hooves around his neck. “Eeee-yup!” she said gruffly, trying to imitate his voice.

Applejack just laughed and shook her head. “How on earth Cheerilee keeps up with this one and her friends all day, I can't begin to imagine. I'm tired just listening to her!”

Macintosh grinned at her before turning his attention to his little sister. “Granny's sleeping out on the lawn, so you gotta be real quiet, y' hear?”

“Sure thing, Mac!” said Apple Bloom.

“An' Silver's here to fix up the cider press,” he told Applejack.

“Ooh! Ooh! Really? Who's that? Can I see? Can I see?” squealed Apple Bloom, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Quietly, Apple Bloom!” said Applejack. “I guess we'd better go say, 'Hi'.”

The three of them found the tall grey pony perched precariously on top of the press bed. The steel screw was in place and a pair of large iron braces which would go above and below the crossbeam were threaded onto the screw. Silver was drilling holes through the beam with a brace and bit, and looked up briefly when they entered before turning his concentration back on his task.

“Hi, Applejack!”

“Howdy, Silver, good to see you! How you been keepin' over there at the Berry's?”

Apple Bloom made to dash over and introduce herself – and no doubt ask the poor carpenter a bajillion questions – but Applejack stepped firmly on her tail. “You stay right there, missy! This ain't no time to be fooling around.”

The bit broke through the bottom of the beam, and Silver retrieved it and carefully climbed down. Macintosh noticed a sort of belt around his middle, covered in loops and little pouches and with tools of various descriptions hanging off it.

Silver rummaged in the cart for a few moments, slipping various things into pouches, before he turned to the Apples and bent down his head down to Apple Bloom-height. “Hi there! My name's Silver, what's yours?” he said in the friendly voice.

Apple Bloom looked up at him and shuffled closer to her big sister. “Apple Bloom,” she said softly.

Macintosh had to suppress a grin. His baby sister was usually ridiculously hyperactive and outgoing, but now she decided to be shy? When a second ago, she was about to climb up and take over from him?

Silver smiled. “I'm just doing some work for your brother and sister,” he said, before looking up at Applejack. “Things are pretty good, thanks; the workshop's looking good and I'm starting to get work from around the town. Sorry this took so long.”

“Ain't nothing to worry 'bout, sugar cube, we don't need the press 'till autumn,” said Applejack easily, “And as for you, you've got homework to be doing,” she told her sister firmly. “Now get along!”

To Macintosh's continuing astonishment, Apple Bloom made no fuss about being dismissed, saying simply, “'Bye, mister,” before turning and trotting away.

Even Applejack seemed confused as her tail disappeared around the door. “I ain't hardly ever seen her like that before?”

“Was that unusual? After all, I guess I'm a stranger?” asked Silver.

“Darn tootin' it is – normally she's all over everything, new or otherwise!”

Macintosh shrugged. “Foals for you.”

Silver shook his head and climbed up on the press again, pulling out a broad-bladed chisel. Macintosh couldn't see what he was doing, but thin shavings of wood started to drift down.

“I'm glad I caught you, Applejack, I've got something I've been working on in the cart,” Silver said as he worked, experimentally spinning the iron braces into place and then out of the way to let him remove more wood from the beam. “I was thinking about your apple crusher and I remembered something I've seen before somewhere, so I made up a miniature version to see if it works.”

Applejack's ears pricked up. “You got my attention now, what is it?”

“Hang on a tick.” Silver aligned the iron braces on the beam and thumped a bolt through on each side with his hoof, before quickly spinning nuts on the ends and tightening them up. He spun the screw each way in its new bearings to check it, and jumped down. “Cool.”

He pulled out a hefty lever with an iron-bound socket from the cart and set it down on the press bed.

“That's that job done. As for the other thing, well, I guess you'd call it an apple grinder. Apples in one end, pulp out the other.”

He slid a boxy wooden contraption with a crank handle on one side to the back of the cart and stood it up so that the chute on the bottom hung over the tail of the cart. The top part looked like a hopper, which he unhooked and lifted away.

Macintosh joined his sister in peering inside; he could see a wooden drum covered in rows of flat-headed metal studs, with just enough clearance between the studs and the wooden walls for the drum to turn.

“It's pretty simple,” Silver was saying, “Just dump some apples in and turn the crank. I made a sort of trap door to force the apples against the drum and it seems to work.”

“Them apples you bought yesterday,” said Macintosh, realisation dawning. Silver grinned.

“Apples to apple purée in no time. Shall we try it out?”

Needless to say, Applejack was fixin' to try anything which might improve her cider, so Macintosh was dispatched to gather up pressing cloths and buckets while Applejack hurried to the root cellar to fetch some of last season's apples. Sure enough, when they had everything together and Macintosh was set to cranking the handle, the first apple was dropped in and reduced to juice and fragments in seconds. Applejack tipped the rest of the basket she'd collected into the hopper, and in little more than a minute there was a brimming bucket under the grinder, ready for pressing.

Applejack scooped up some of the pulp with her hoof and examined it closely.

“I do declare, that's one mighty fine mince you got there, Silver.”

Grinning at Macintosh, Silver let out a polite cough. “Sorry, this harness is a bit tight,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Macintosh barely swallowed his laughter, but the few explosive snorts that escaped got a strange look from his sister. He hurried to pour the pail into the cloth-lined pressing bucket waiting on the press as his sister replied, completely missing the joke.

“Oh, well I guess any new rig takes some time to break in. Ol' Mac here barely takes his off now that he's gotten so used to it.”

“You don't say?” Silver kept up his deadpan voice, but with Applejack focussed on setting up the press, he set off towards her in a ridiculously exaggerated prance.

It was too much. Macintosh, for the first time in a long time, completely lost it. Through his tears of laughter, he could see his sister looking at him in total bewilderment as he slumped heavily against the cart.

“What in the hay's come over you, Mac? I'm sorry, Silver, I don't rightly know what's going on with my family this afternoon.”

“That's quite all right,” said Silver, suddenly the epitome of normal again now that Applejack was looking in his direction. “Well, the grinder works, how about the press?”

“Good point; out of the way, ya big lunk!”

Shaking her head, Applejack shoved Macintosh back and lifted the lever into place. A few twirls, and the trickle of juice into the collecting barrel became a torrent. As the pulp started to compress, each heave of the lever by the powerful mare sent a fresh gush into the barrel.

By the time Macintosh had got a grip on the last of his giggles, Applejack was peeling the pressed pulp out of the cloth and crumbling it in her hoofs. After a moment, she looked up at Silver.

“How much?”

“Sorry?”

“How much for the grinder? I'll take that there thing right now if I can afford it.”

“Oh, err, it's only a prototype, it's a bit rough-and-ready,” Silver hedged, “There's all sorts of things I could do to make it better. You like it, though?”

“I do. That other stuff don't matter none, it does the job and does it fine,” said Applejack adamantly. “What do you say, Silver?”

Silver thought for a moment. “Tell you what, give me a day or so and I'll work out exactly how much for a proper one. Bigger, properly built instead of jerried together, and with some spares. Then you can work out what you want to do.”

“Sounds good to me. Mac?”

“Yup,” said Macintosh nonchalantly. This all got him thinking; this had only taken a few minutes, so how much cider could they produce in a day? Say it was an eight-hour day, not including breaks...

“As for now, I reckon we all can seal this with a well-earned drink,” said Applejack, looking down into the barrel. “What do you say to some nice, fresh, Sweet Apple Acres cider?”