Twilight's lie-in the following morning was ruined by, of all things, a chipper Chippy. Silver arrived at a disgustingly early hour, and although he apologised profusely when she appeared at the door bleary-eyed and tousle-maned she couldn't summon the will to send him away and just waved him vaguely in the direction of the basement before stumbling back to bed.

When she emerged a second time, her trek to the kitchen was halted by the revolting, nostril-burning stench wafting up from downstairs. Curious, she found him in the basement slathering a pale concoction over her workbench which bubbled and fumed slowly. A few minutes' research quickly put a stop to that; a burst of magic, and the old varnish peeled away in long strips and dropped to the floor. Silver had looked on with astonishment plain on his face, and eventually asked, “Ever get a horrible feeling of inadequacy?”

Yes, thought Twilight, all the time. “Not really,” she said aloud.

Silver scratched his head with one hoof. “I can see why,” he said musingly.

With the windows opened to let the breeze ventilate the library, she had made her way through the breakfast ritual and set about her day to the accompaniment of the harsh rasp of sandpaper. It was a curiously aggravating sound, as the irregular bursts of sound caught her attention both when they started and when they stopped.

After an early lunch, Twilight gave up on the battle to focus on her latest book and stepped outside for a walk. The main square was just starting to get busy with ponies heading for Sugarcube Corner and the Café, so she skirted around behind the market and set off vaguely in the direction of Whitetail Wood. A thought struck her as she passed Whitetail Lane, and she backtracked until she found the little shop she was looking for.

She pushed the door open to find Summer Clip giggling with a little sky-blue Unicorn filly who was in one of the stalls, perched on a box to make her tall enough that Summer could see what she was doing as her scissors snipped at the blue-and-white striped mane while a small, yellow mare looked on indulgently.

Summer looked up at the tinkle of the bell, and gave Twilight a welcoming smile. “Hi there! Take a seat, we're nearly done,” she said, before turning her attention back to her little customer. “Oh-kay, now if you can hold still for me for just a second...there!” After a final snip, she whipped the cape away from the foal's neck with a flourish. “All done, and don't you look pretty? You even still have both ears, so I must be getting better! Well, you're all set for your first day of school now, and I'm sure you'll have all the little colts wrapped around your hoof in no time.”

“Eww! Colts are icky!” the little filly squealed, giggling like mad.

“Yep! They smell, too. Unfortunately, we're kinda stuck with them, so all us fillies can do is try to train them up a little,” said Summer, grinning. “You ready?” The filly held up her front legs, and Summer took one and her mother the other, and together they swung her down onto the floor again. “There you go, Petal. Perhaps you can tell me how school's going next time?”

“Yeah!” Petal cheered.

“Thank you, Summer Clip, you've done a lovely job,” said the yellow mare, fishing in her saddlebags for her purse.

“No problem, Dawn Blush, she's a wonderful little filly.”

“Thank you, Miss.” repeated Petal politely, with a blinding smile.

Twilight had to hide a smile as Dawn Blush shepherded her filly out, leaving just her and Summer.

“Well, I guess you won't be needing the box?” said Summer with a grin.

Twilight laughed. “I think I grew out of that a few years ago.”

Summer patted the side of the stall and asked, “So, what'll it be today?”

“I could do with getting my mane out of my eyes,” Twilight admitted, stepping nervously forward.

“Not a problem. I see you've got a bit of a winter coat left. I could give that a trim, too, if you'd like?”

“Sure, why not?”

Having her coat brushed out was a blissfully relaxing experience. Twilight watched carefully as Summer put her hoof on a pair of clippers and closed her eyes for a second, an almost indiscernible pale glow from her horn trickling down her neck to her hoof and setting the clippers in motion. As Summer worked in long, smooth strokes with the clippers Twilight thought back to Silver's comment about his friend's magic ability. If she could only work magic on things in direct contact with her body, she must be very low-powered indeed.

Regardless of the amount of magic involved Summer worked quickly and efficiently, sending small tufts of lavender hair drifting to the floor around her hooves. She felt a foal's moment of dread when the clippers ran over her cutie mark, as if her beloved stars could be sliced off with the longer hairs, but it emerged unscathed as her adult mind knew it would. Summer finishing up by trimming the winter feathering off her fetlocks, leaving her feeling unaccustomedly sleek. “Wow, you're really good. I barely felt a thing!”

Summer smiled. “I have Silver sharpen everything once a week. He can put a wicked edge on them, and it makes all the difference. After all, nopony likes having their mane pulled out!”

“I guess he must have learned that from his parents?” said Twilight, hoping she didn't sound like she was fishing too much. Luckily, Summer answered quite happily.

“Parents, grandparents, uncles, aunties, cousins... poor old Silver got rather passed around when he was young, with his folks trying to find out what he was good at. Believe it or not, he's actually quite a gifted wheelwright. That was where he learned that his special talents really lay with wood and not metal. He's working at your place today?”

“Yeah. That's actually kinda why I left,” Twilight admitted, “I was trying to concentrate on something and all that sanding and scraping was starting to get on my nerves.”

Summer laughed, “I know what you mean! Give him some spare time and a piece of wood and he's always making something, it takes a bit of getting used to. Just a trim for your mane, or do you feel like something different?”

Twilight studied herself in the mirror; the familiar no-nonsense square fringe falling over – into – her eyes, and the simple straight mane. She knew she'd never have the time or inclination for Rarity's curls or Fluttershy's flowing locks. “Just a trim, thanks,” she decided.

Summer hesitated. “You know, I think you might look good with a slightly different style. Nothing fancy, just a little more modern.”

“Well, it sounds interesting, but you can't exactly stick it back on if I change my mind,” said Twilight reluctantly. It wasn't ever something she considered, but the thought was strangely tempting. Summer's own sleek bob and ringed ears were definitely not her thing, but maybe a little change wouldn't be so bad?

“How about I show you?” the stylist offered.

“What do you mean?”

“Watch,” said Summer enigmatically. The little grey Unicorn closed her eyes, frowning in concentration, and lowered her horn to rest gently on the base of Twilight's neck.

There was a prickling feeling which rapidly spread across her whole body, making her shiver. She looked up into the mirror and watched her forelock shrink and shift. Eventually, she felt the light pressure on her neck lift and Summer's eyes met hers in the mirror.

“What do you think?” Summer asked with an impish smile.

Her mane fell straight and sleek across one ear, reaching only her cheek and halfway down the width of her neck. She shook her head slightly, fascinated at how naturally it moved, until she realised that she couldn't feel her usual mane underneath the illusion. Shocked, she lifted a hoof and groped around but all she could feel was her new style. “But-, what-, how-,” she spluttered incoherently, making Summer laugh.

“Magic, of course!”

“But I can't feel my normal mane!” Twilight blurted, a mild panic setting in. How in Equestria had Summer done it? It wasn't transfigured or transmogrified, and she couldn't detect growth spells of any kind. Was she stuck like this? What would Spike say? Scratch that, what would her friends say? Applejack would ask if she was finally 'getting all fancy-like' on them-

Summer was looking at her in confusion. “Of course you can't! It wouldn't be much of an illusion if you could, would it?” she said, cutting off Twilight's racing imagination. “So, do you like it?”

Twilight blinked, the analytical side of her mind taking over. “This is brilliant!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Nearly all true illusion relies on Phaeton's First Photon Theorem to bend the light in trans-dimensional l-space while the actual physical properties of the object remain unchanged and measurable by-”

Twilight rattled on until it sank in that Summer had backed away looking utterly bewildered, and she broke off feeling a little silly but still excited. “Um... I'll just stick with my old look, if that's OK?”

The stylist stared at her for a moment before shaking her head and taking up scissors and comb. There was a brief flash of light reflected in the mirror, and Twilight's original mane swung back into place. After combing her mane out in silence, Summer admitted, “I didn't understand a single word you said.”

Twilight let out an awkward laugh. “Eh, sorry. I got a bit carried away. But what you did isn't just a normal run-of-the-mill illusion, it's much more complicated than that.”

“Uh-huh. I'll take your word for it. All I know is, it's one little magic trick I'm good at.”

“Then it's an absolute cracker!” said Twilight seriously, before letting out a delighted squeal, “Oh, I'm going to have to do some research when I get back! I bet the first time you did this was when your cutie mark appeared, right?”

“Right,” said Summer in a puzzled tone. It was obvious that the other Unicorn didn't realise the significance of her talent and, unbelievably, didn't think it was much of a big deal. Mulling it over in her mind, Twilight decided to keep quiet and let her finish the job she very obviously was interested in. Maybe someday she could find a way to study Summer's magic in more depth, but now wasn't the time to be rigging her up to an electroarcanograph.

Twilight was jolted out of her musing by Summer's voice. “What do you think?”

Twilight examined herself in the mirror; her pink- and purple-streaked mane looked neat and business-like and comfortingly familiar. “Perfect! Thanks, Summer.”

“Any time, Twilight, I'm glad you like it,” said Summer as she made change for Twilight's bits. “Say 'Hi' to Silver for me, and I'll see him later.”

“Will do!” Twilight promised.

Outside, she felt the fresh breeze bite invitingly through her newly-shorn coat and had to restrain the urge to gambol like a new lamb. It all felt so light and liberating! Grinning to herself, she set off at a canter to Rarity's for some tea and a gossip.

It was getting on for evening by the time Twilight returned to the library, feeling vaguely guilty having lost track of time. Rarity had been delighted to see her, and after many compliments about her freshly-shorn look had insisted on trying various fabrics and designs against her to see if there was anything that caught her fancy.

Calling out a greeting to Spike – probably napping somewhere after a hard afternoon's library guardianship – she trotted down to the basement, to find Silver pushing a broom across the floor. On seeing her, he stopped and pulled off the scarf tied across his muzzle.

“Oh, hi Twilight! I'm about done for the day, I just need to clean up. I've done the workbench and the floor, I just need to re-finish them and then I can move on and do the main library.”

“Great! Wow, you have been busy,” said Twilight, looking around the basement. The floor was naked wood again, smooth and pale, and the scent of wood dust hung heavily in the air. She could feel it tickling the back of her throat, and tried not to kick up any more dust with her hooves.

“The floor is still living wood so I'll probably wax that, but the workbench needs something a little more durable. The varnish is going to smell pretty strong, but-” Silver broke off into a coughing fit, hacking into a large hoof. When his spluttering stopped, he gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry, hazard of the job.”

A cheeky grin crept over his face and suddenly disappeared, hidden behind a rather bad poker face she was quickly learning to dread. Oh Celestia, here it comes.

“In fact you might even say, I'm a little hoarse!”

Twilight stared at him in horrified dismay as he snickered wheezily at his own joke. It was even worse than she had feared. “Oh, good grief!” she exclaimed, clapping a hoof to her forehead and hating the traitorous little quaver in the last word.

Silver's grin widened. “Hey, you laughed.”

“No I didn't! That was-” Twilight gave up as the giggles got the best of her. “That was so lame!” she wailed.

“So what are you laughing for?” he asked. Infuriating pony!

“Oh, stop it, you!” said Twilight gruffly, trying to force a straight face by strength of will. Casting around for something to distract herself, a spell came to mind. Concentrating, a light grew around her horn and spread throughout the room, starting a faint tingle and stirring of the air. The indoor breeze picked up and started to swirl, gradually becoming faster as the size of the moving air decreased. The dust was picked up with it, forcing Twilight and Silver to close their eyes, but after a few moments the ball of air had shrunk to pony-size, hovering in front of her, and gradually compressed until all that remained was a solid block of dust. Opening her eyes, she calmly levitated it upstairs and out to the bin while Silver watched it go in awe.

Looking around at the pristine surfaces, he cleared his throat. “You're an awfully handy pony to have around, you know that?”

Twilight tried not to look too smug. “If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a dusty library. That was one of the first spells I learned after starting here. It's so much more efficient than dusting!”

Silver blinked. “You don't say? Well, in that case, I guess that's me done for the day. Do you mind if I leave the cart out the front for a while? I'm supposed to be meeting Summer shortly.”

“Of course not. And I forgot to mention, I dropped in on her earlier; she said 'Hi.'”

“Great. See you tomorrow!” said Silver, hoisting a toolbox onto his back and turning for the stairs. “Oh, and I'll try to leave it a bit later tomorrow morning,” he added over his shoulder.

Silver walked slowly across the square, stretching the muscles abused by a day spent hunching over; sanding floors was easily his least-favourite activity but hey, have to pay the bills somehow, he thought. The stiff breeze ruffled his short mane and felt refreshing after a day cooped up inside. The absence of the gritty feeling of sawdust in his coat felt a bit strange after a day's work, though, but it was all gone, sucked up by Twilight's impressive indoor hurricane.

For all her quirks that was one gifted mare, all right. He knew that Sums and her family had never been much for magic, but seeing somepony make it look so versatile and so effortless was still a little awe-inspiring. Oh yeah, goddess-ruler's favourite student and Element of Magic, he reminded himself; she was hardly going to be a duffer!

Ponyville's residents were out in force tonight enjoying the evening, walking in twos and threes or standing chatting with friends, while a crowd of youngsters ran around shrieking and shouting in one corner, seemingly playing some local variant of hoofball. He got friendly greetings from a number of the older ponies, but near the pavilion a dark blue Earth pony gave him a glare filled with such malevolence and suspicion that he stopped dead in surprise. He nearly asked what he'd done, only to decide that he probably didn't want to know. Whatever that pony's problem was, he didn't look like he was in the mood for talking.

Silver was still lost in thought, wondering what he could have done to earn such a reaction, when he felt a hoof prod him gently on the shoulder and a voice filled with barely-restrained amusement said, “Boo!” softly in his ear. That jerked him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Summer's sweet-natured Pegasus friend hovering beside him.

“Hey Cloud Kicker!”

“Hi Silver!” She exclaimed excitedly, with a warm smile, “Great to see you, big guy, how've you been? You were looking a little lost there?”

The vivacious lavender-grey mare flared her wings and dropped neatly onto her hooves at his side. He didn't know her all that well, having only met her when she was hanging out with Summer, but any friend of Summer's was all right by him.

“Yeah, fine thanks. Just thinking – hard to believe, but true!”

Cloud Kicker giggled, but her reply was pre-empted by a separate voice.

“Sometime today would be nice, Cloud Kicker!”

Silver looked up to his right to see three more Pegasi hovering impatiently above roof level.

“I'll catch you up, Star!” Cloud Kicker called, waving a hoof. With a flourish, the others swooped off to the north towards Canterlot.

“I'm not holding you up, am I?” he asked.

Cloud Kicker shook her head. “Nah. We've got some rain to organise for tonight, but that's not until after dark. This is Star Glimmer's first week as a team leader, and if everything's not just right she starts getting nervous. The clouds are there and waiting, we just have to get them to the right place and give 'em a buck. I may not be quite as fast as Rainbow Dash, but if I can't pull it together in half an hour on my own, I don't deserve to call myself a weather pony!”

“From what Applejack was telling me, the farmers around here are in good hooves.”

“Aw, thanks, Silver!” Cloud Kicker beamed.

“Don't tell me you've never heard them say it!” he chuckled.

“Well, maybe sometimes, but it's always nice to hear. Remember, a Pegasus thrives best on a balanced diet of compliments!”

“I'll be sure to bear that in mind,” said Silver, laughing. “So, what's up with you?”

“Just birds and Pegasus ponies!” said Cloud Kicker, repeating the old gag with a wink, “It's new teams for weather patrol again this week, and guess who got stuck on the evening shift?”

“I thought Summer said you were a team leader?”

Cloud Kicker shrugged. “We take turns. Everypony's got to learn sometime, right?”

“Well, well, playing nicely with the other ponies? Wonders will never cease!” came a familiar voice from behind them.

Silver turned as Cloud Kicker exclaimed, “Summer!”, and bounded over to her friend to give her a hug like they hadn't seen each other in weeks. He smiled inwardly as the two mares exchanged excited greetings. It was neat how Cloud Kicker's bubbly nature rubbed off on Summer when they were together.

“I thought you were working tonight?” Summer was saying.

“I am, but we were passing over Ponyville anyway, and when I saw my favourite big grey carpenter pony I thought I'd stop off for a few minutes to say, 'Hi'. So, hi!”

“And how many 'grey carpenter ponies' do you know?” Silver asked drily.

Cloud Kicker laughed. “Only one, but just because it was an easy contest doesn't mean you didn't win.”

Summer giggled. “So how long do you have?”

Cloud Kicker squinted north into the distance for a moment, and then sighed. “A couple of minutes, before Star Glimmer has a fit.”

“We'd better let you go, then. Junebug's for lunch tomorrow?”

“June's for lunch tomorrow, I'm bringing the celery salad, you've got the mushroom kebabs,” Cloud Kicker confirmed, spreading her wings. “Have a great evening, you two!”

The Pegasus sprang lightly into the air and sped off to the north after her comrades, waving at their farewells.

“'Playing nicely with the other ponies'?” Silver quoted acerbically.

Summer laughed, setting off on a circuit of the town square. “Mrs. Aurora would never believe it.”

“Aurora the Bore-a was a grouchy old nag who always hated me because I gave her grandson a clout around the ear once,” grumbled Silver, falling into step with her.

“But you and Neb were best friends?”

“Yeah, but as far as Aurora was concerned I was always equus non grata after that. I don't think she ever changed her mind about much of anything!”

Summer just snorted. “You know, I think she's sweet on you,” she added, after a pause.

“What?! Who is?” Great Celestia, that was wrong! He shuddered at the memory of the drooping jowls and greying, whiskery chin looming disapprovingly over his school desk.

“Cloud Kicker, ya big jerk!” said Summer impatiently, rolling her eyes.

“Oh. She barely knows me, Sums,” said Silver, trying to hide his relief.

The smaller mare snorted derisively. “So what? Do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. You'd have to be pretty miserable not to,” he said lightly, determined not to give her an opening.

“Ugh! You're impossible! Do you think she's cute?”

Silver smiled. “We both know I'm not going to go anywhere near that question.”

“You're no fun at all,” Summer complained, returning Roseluck's wave.

“I still remember the grief you gave me when I was silly enough to admit I had a crush on Damson!”

“That was years ago, and that was because she was a complete cow! In fact, you would have been better off with an actual cow! I never did remotely understand that one because you hated her brother.”

Silver shrugged. “What can I say? I was young, dumb, and she had a really nice-”

“Oh please, before I vomit!”

He gave her a friendly nudge with his shoulder. “Do I need to remind you of-?”

“No!” spluttered Summer, “That was different! I just, um-”

“You were young, dumb, and he had-” Silver suggested slyly, before Summer cut him off.

“Don't even think about finishing that sentence if you value your life, Silver Braise!” she growled menacingly. Mr. Breezy, who they happened to be passing, gave them a startled look, and hurried off at their combined hallos. The two grey ponies exchanged a confused, sidelong glance.

“So, how were things at the salon today?” Silver asked, trying to get things back on track.

Summer smiled. “I think I might be getting somewhere,” she said enthusiastically.

It seemed that things were picking up, albeit a little slower than she would have liked. There was enough business to live on, anyway, and by the sounds of it she was very taken with the little filly who had come in for a trim before starting school.

Summer's excited description trailed off abruptly when they came face-to-face with an orange Unicorn, who sneered unpleasantly and shouldered her way past them, nearly knocking Summer off balance. They were almost too surprised to protest, and exchanged confused looks.

“What the hay was all that about?” Summer asked in a small voice. Silver didn't answer, but led her away to a quiet corner with a jerk of his head.

“Have you been getting weird looks today, or is it just me? That's not the first strange reaction I've had this evening,” he asked, still staring after the snotty Unicorn with a thunderous expression.

“Well... now that you mention it, yeah. I saw somepony hanging around outside the salon this afternoon, too, but I thought they were just trying to decide whether to come in or not. Then I had a customer come in and after they'd gone, so had the other pony. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now? I dunno, Sils, this is all just bizarre,” Summer said in a quiet, uneven voice, her eyes darting around nervously.

Silver remained silent for a few moments, his scowl unbroken. “If I had to guess, it's related to whatever it is that Twilight's not telling me. Whatever it is, ponies are suspicious of outsiders; hallo, us!”

“She came in today for a clip and trim,” said Summer, “You were right; she started asking about our parents and stuff, and then she got really weird about my magic. I mean, she's supposed to be one of the best magicians in Equestria; what can I possibly do that she can't?”

Silver chewed his lip thoughtfully. “I don't know, Sums, but I don't like where this is going. I get the feeling there's going to be trouble one way or the other, and if Twilight's not the cause of it then she's not lifting a hoof to stop it.”

Summer gave him a tiny, nervous smile. “What's the matter, I thought you liked her?”

“Oh, I like her well enough, I suppose. I just don't trust her an inch right now. And Celestia help her if this gets somepony hurt, most of all you.” Silver sent a final evil glare after the long-gone Unicorn and shook his head in resignation. “Are you going to be OK tonight, or would you like me to stay over?” he asked in a softer voice.

Summer shook her head proudly. “If I had said that, you'd accuse me of mothering you. Thanks, Silver, but I'll be fine.”

“You'd better be, Sums. You're kinda alone here in town, and I don't like it.”

Twilight hurried through her cereal, eager to get back to the research she had begun the night before. Summer Clip's startling ability had caught her imagination and so, as Silver set to work in the basement again, she carefully shut up her doors and told Spike that she wasn't to be disturbed before opening the scroll sitting on her reading desk. After an urgent request to the Canterlot Royal Archive the previous night, Spike had received it direct from Princess Luna herself over breakfast. Inside was the complicated spell she had only heard of in stories before, and she studied it over and over before attempting to cast it. Purple light filled her room, brightening painfully until her eyes watered, but gradually over the course of several minutes it coalesced into a seemingly solid rectangular shape which nearly covered the top of her reading desk.

Illusory, Huygen Complex's seminal work on the physical and magical natures of light and its manipulation, was in fact exactly that – an illusion of his magnum opus, called forth by the spell from an unknown place. No physical copy had ever been found. Quite how Huygen could possibly have managed to create such a work and bind it up in pure magic was a popular Unicorn thought experiment in certain academic circles. Twilight had tried to decipher it once, but ended up hopelessly confused and with such a headache that she had to go and lie down in a dark room. Now, with the book itself in front of her, she forced herself to calm her racing heartbeat and dry her sweaty hooves before cracking the cover. Although it was completely impossible to do so, she couldn't bear the thought of sullying such a masterpiece. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the first page.

The hours passed her by, the gentle chime of her clock leaving only a faint impression on a consciousness wholly absorbed in Huygen's words as diagrams and dizzying calculus floated beneath her eyes. Spike arrived at one point with a sandwich, which she barely acknowledged. Familiar with her habits, the little dragon simply made space between her piles of notes and left it without comment.

His second intrusion was unmissable, though, when he was forced to shake her out of a chapter on secondary photon-excitation through Equus-Coprolith magical backscatter.

“What is it, Spike?” she demanded impatiently.

“Royal Messenger for you. I guess the Princess can wait, though; I'll tell her you're busy,” he said sarcastically.

Twilight blinked stupidly, her brain slowly re-calibrating to more mundane matters. “Oh. Sorry, Spike.” Thoughts clicked into place. The messenger she had sent to Fetlock Bath! Suddenly energised, she tumbled downstairs to find a sunset-yellow Pegasus striding circuits around the large round table with the horse-head bust in the middle of the library, wings partly spread and still steaming gently from her exertions.

“Twilight Sparkle?” asked the messenger in a rough voice.

“That's me,” said Twilight nervously.

“Return message from Fetlock Bath.” The Pegasus pulled a thick packet of parchment from her saddlebags and hoofed it over. “Say, could I get a drink? Parched, here.”

“Oh! Of course, please follow me.” Twilight led her into the kitchen, but rather than accept a mug the Pegasus opted to drink straight from the sink. Finally, having slaked her thirst, the Pegasus let out a contented sigh and settled her wings against her sides. The enclosed space of the kitchen quickly filled with the smell of sweaty feathers, testament to how hard the messenger had flown.

“Wow, so there and back in three days? That's really impressive,” said Twilight, trying to make conversation, “My friend Rainbow Dash is a speed-freak, but I think even she would have trouble with that.”

The messenger snorted proudly. “Two and a half; I had to wait for them to write the reply. I think I've heard of Rainbow Dash; Sonic Rainboom, yeah? She's fast all right, but she's a sprinter. Endurance flying is an entirely different kind of flying altogether. Do you have anything for the Princess?”

“Err... no, thank you. My dragon assistant normally handles letters to Canterlot.”

“That must be handy! Anyway, I ought to be getting back to the castle. Thanks for the drink!”

Twilight showed the messenger out and, alone again, turned her attention to the packet she had left on the table. Cracking the wax seal, she set aside several thickly-folded bundles and started with the note written on the wrapper.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Please find enclosed précis reports on Silver Braise and Summer Clip, late of this village. I trust that this satisfies your request for information.

Given the unexpected opportunity afforded by the visit of your messenger, I have taken the liberty of enclosing letters from their parents, with the hope that you will pass them on together with the love of their families.

I have the honour to remain,

Your obedient servant,

Cherry Red
Mayor of Fetlock Bath

Twilight felt her stomach drop, and quickly scrabbled for the other bundles. Sure enough, two of them were sealed and marked with their recipients names. Somehow, she had never expected that the reply would include messages for Silver and Summer and now she would have to explain how and why she had received them. She restrained a wild impulse to throw the letters in the fireplace and destroy them; no doubt subsequent letters via the normal post would ask whether they had received these ones, and then she would have even more awkward questions to answer. She thought briefly of giving them to Ditzy in the hope of passing them off as normal letters, but that, too, stank uncomfortably of deception.

Leaving the troublesome packets aside for a moment, she turned to the mayor's report, written in a strong, blocky script.

Summer Catherine Clip (U., F.)
Coat: Grey. Mane: Black. Eyes: Blue
Distinguishing marks: Small scar on lower lip, pierced ears

It continued in much the same dry, abbreviated fashion. Age – she was a couple of years older than Twilight – height, a summary of school results and employment, character references. It was comprehensive and left absolutely no doubt that the pony described and Ponyville's new stylist were one and the same.

Silver's report was slightly longer, but equally comprehensive. Interestingly, it described him as 'Considered bright by teachers, but academic results mediocre.' Of course, not everypony was scholastically-inclined, but she wondered how much was down to Silver's own failings or whether his teachers had simply given up in exasperation at what sounded like a sometimes difficult, combative colt.

Finally in possession of proof positive that the two newcomers were exactly who they said they were, Twilight felt no sense of relief or vindication, just a nagging guilt as she pushed the sealed bundles around listlessly in front of her. After nearly an hour of pondering, she swept up the letters and set off for the basement.

The strong stench of turpentine burned in her nostrils, but that didn't seem to worry the tall pony drying his brushes on old newspapers as he looked up and gave her a friendly smile.

“Hey Twilight! Nearly done down here, just be careful where you put your hooves. The floor's still wet over on that side,” he said, pointing.

“Oh, great,” said Twilight feebly. Taking a deep breath to steady herself and trying not to cough from the fumes, she held out the packets with her magic. “I've got a letter for you.”

“Oh, thanks! How did Ditzy know, uh...,” Silver trailed off, and he jerked his head forward to re-examine the named but unaddressed packet. Twilight watched a range of emotions play across his face – recognition, surprise, disbelief, and finally increasing anger. “That's from my parents, isn't it?” he asked in a tightly controlled voice.

Twilight flinched, but there was no turning back now. “I think so, yes,” she admitted.

“I see. Care to explain why you're writing to my parents?” he demanded, his voice still deadly calm.

“I wasn't. Look, I had a few questions for the mayor of Fetlock Bath, and your parents took the chance to send this with their reply,” Twilight said awkwardly. Accustomed to his usual genial smile, the stony glare he was giving her was distinctly unnerving. Not only that, she felt depressingly sure that she deserved it.

Silver, meanwhile, hadn't moved a muscle. “And you're in the habit of writing to the mayors of little two-bit towns in the middle of nowhere, are you?”

“Well... not exactly,” she admitted, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof uncomfortably.

“Oh, come on, Twilight!” he burst out angrily, “Stop playing games and spit it out!”

She took a reflexive step backwards. “No, all right? You're right, I wrote to the mayor because I needed information about you and Summer.”

“You mean you still don't trust us? Fine! Wonderful!” Silver snarled, “So what the hay am I doing here in your library?”

“I do trust you! Of course I trust you, but it's not just about me! I need solid proof that I can put in front of other ponies-” Twilight fired back, nettled at last.

“Oh really? And when did you send this letter, then?”

“Three days ago,” she admitted, waiting for the explosion. Three days ago was after their night under the stars, and she knew he wouldn't miss that.

“Three days? But-”

“I used a Royal Messenger. I need answers, Silver, and I don't have time to waste. I'm really sorry if you don't like it, but this is important!” she said pleadingly.

“Why? What the hay is going on?!” Silver demanded furiously, “You trust me, you want answers? How about just asking me? How about telling me what's so Celestia-darned important and seeing if I can help? Oh, I forgot, it's your earth-shaking crisis that you conveniently can't tell anypony about,” he added spitefully.

“It's... it's... Silver, lives are at stake, I need to have every bit of evidence I can find-”

“So what do I have to do? Huh? Just tell me, then tell every-damn-pony else in this place, 'cause I am sick of getting the evil eye when I walk down the street!”

“I can't!” Twilight cried wretchedly, “I'm really, really sorry, Silver, but right now I can't!”

Silver simply stared her down until her eyes dropped. “Your choice,” he said quietly, with cold finality.

Twilight watched helplessly as the grey pony turned his back and stormed upstairs and out of the library. In the silence as the echoes of his hoofbeats died away, she could only let out a defeated sigh as requiem for a growing friendship that now lay in ruins.

Silver stomped across the square, still seething. Ponies scattered from his path as his hooves led him to the familiar water fountain in the middle of the town square. Taking some deep breaths to try to get a hold of his temper, he sank onto a bench nearby and tried to sort out his feelings and just why he was so angry. After all, in some ways it wasn't exactly a massive surprise, but he thought they'd dealt with all that nonsense last time under the stars. Evidently not.

He couldn't tell how long he sat there, absently turning the letters which had been the catalyst for his fallout with Twilight over and over in his front hooves, but nopony approached him until a familiar cheerful voice broke into his thoughts, making him jump.

“Hey there, big guy! Is everything OK?” Cloud Kicker's voice faltered a little as he glanced up at her.

“Fine!” he snarled shortly, startling even himself. Cloud Kicker took a step back in surprise, and there was no mistaking the hurt look on her face at his churlish tone. Chastened, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes in frustration, massaging his cheeks with his hooves. “I'm sorry, Cloud Kicker. I guess I'm having a bad day, but that's no excuse for taking it out on you,” he said contritely.

To his surprise, Cloud Kicker didn't storm off – as she was more than entitled to, he thought – but when he opened his eyes again she was still standing in front of him, eyeing him silently. After a long, awkward minute, she turned and sat carefully on the other end of the bench without saying a word, her habitual smile lost in an uncharacteristically solemn look. She didn't speak, or even look at him, she was just... there. Expecting either an argument or a clout around the ear, Silver was at a loss what to do next.

His thoughts eventually returned to Twilight and the mysterious knot that entangled them. Something important even to the Princesses themselves – why else would their most trusted pony be so heavily involved? He hadn't missed Twilight's near-slip that night under the stars, either. And now apparently lives were at stake. Not much to go on, but the secret still hung over them. Gauging his popularity level by the reactions of some ponies in the town recently, he couldn't afford to be burning any more bridges. In fact, he and Summer probably needed Cloud Kicker's goodwill more than ever. And despite doing his best to ruin it earlier, she was still there, waiting patiently for him to work things out in his head. She was a reassuring reminder that they weren't entirely alone in Ponyville. It was a curiously humbling thought.

Finally, he turned to the patient Pegasus and placed a tentative front hoof on the bench halfway between them, a peace offering. “Thanks, Cloud Kicker,” he said quietly.

She looked over to him, and he got a brief flicker of a smile. “You looked like you needed a friend,” she said in a soft, serious voice.

“I think I got a better one than I deserve,” he replied after a moment.

She reached out and rested her hoof against his. “I just wanted to help.”

“Yeah, well now you see why Sums calls me a jerk all the time,” he mumbled.

“Hey, everypony has to blow off steam every now and then. Maybe I should have thought you wanted to be alone before barging in on you?” she suggested gently.

“And maybe I shouldn't be a jerk all my life. I'll have to try to make it up to you sometime.”

“There's nothing to make up, but I'd like that all the same,” she said hesitantly.

She took a breath to say more, then shut her mouth let the moment pass. Again, Silver felt impressed by her poise. He had thought she was... what? Rather carefree and happy-go-lucky, perhaps, but there was obviously more going on behind those bright pale-violet eyes than he had given her credit for, and he felt that he owed her an explanation.

“Something's going on here, Cloud Kicker. Twilight Sparkle started it off being kinda nosey about us, but now Summer and I are getting some nasty looks in the street and we don't know why or what we've done wrong. Twilight obviously knows, but she refuses to say anything. I guess we had a bit of an argument about it earlier.”

She bit her lip, “I heard that stuff's been going missing around Ponyville. Just little things, I don't really know much more than that. Junebug mentioned it at lunch today.”

“So why us? What have we done?”

Cloud Kicker sighed sadly, “Because it's easier to look at the strangers nopony knows and blame them than it is to start wondering about your friends and neighbours.”

“I think there's more to it than that. Petty theft is one thing, but some of the stuff I actually have got out of Twilight makes it sound like there's a lot more at stake,” said Silver pensively.

“Twilight's really clever – a genius, probably – but she tends to over-react to things like you wouldn't believe. You should hear some of the stories about her! Maybe it's just that?” Cloud Kicker suggested.

“Maybe,” said Silver half-heartedly. Looking down, he reached for the two packets which had fallen into the dust and dropped them onto the bench next to him. Cloud Kicker looked curiously at them but without comment.

They were innocuous-looking things to get so worked up about, he reflected. And he was grateful for his parents' letter, but what a way to receive it! He wondered what had gone through their minds when they had heard that a Royal Messenger, no less, had hot-winged it across Equestria wanting information on him. Aunt Cherry would have been bound to tell them everything, and he was almost afraid to read his mother's reaction.

He sighed. Maybe it was just some simple questions, but what really rankled was the way Twilight kept digging away while putting on a friendly face. At first he was more curious than anything to see why he and Sums were suddenly centre of attention, but the more obvious she became, the more irritating it was until he had forced a more-or-less straight answer out of her. Only now it seemed that that wasn't good enough for her, either. He couldn't say she was dishonest with him, but perhaps selectively honest after the fact. Either way, he'd had more than enough of her games.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. He wouldn't get much done sitting here brooding about things.

“I can't believe you've sat there and put up with me for so long, Cloud Kicker,” he said briskly, “Now I really do owe you one.”

Cloud Kicker giggled, her normal manner reasserting itself. “I might just take you up on that, but right now I'm supposed to be working.”

Silver blinked. Of course, she was on evening patrol! “Oh, yeah! So what are you doing down here?”

“Try looking up sometime, big guy, it's a whole 'nother world up there!” she laughed, getting to her hooves. Sure enough, the sky was almost completely clear. “I think we'd even have trouble finding a cloud to stand on.”

“So you're OK, then?”

Cloud Kicker made a face. “Well, sort of. Not that it'll stop Star Glimmer from having kittens. Oh, listen to me, I make her sound like such a nag! She's great, really, and I shouldn't be harsh on her when she's just being diligent. I'm not the one with a father on the Weather Committee breathing down my neck, demanding I follow in his hoofsteps.”

“Just as long as I'm not getting you into trouble.”

“Thanks, but I can get myself into trouble without any help from anypony else,” said Cloud Kicker genially, before raising her voice. “All right, you can come out now!”

Mystified, Silver looked in the same direction as Cloud Kicker to see an embarrassed-looking Summer slink around the corner of a nearby shop. “Um... hi.”

Cloud Kicker laughed and gave her a hug. “How long were you there?”

“Just for a minute. You two looked a little, err, preoccupied.”

“We were just talking, that's all. Anyway, I ought to be getting airborne before I really do get myself into trouble. Catch ya later!”

She gave Silver a lazy salute and flapped into the sky. He watched her go for a minute, then turned to Summer and gave her an amused smirk. As he expected, it was like a red rag to a bull as she immediately went on the attack to try and cover her embarrassment.

“So, sitting in the sun, hoof in hoof... either you work fast, or she does!”

Silver chuckled. “Nice try, Private Eye.”

“You think she just happens to be passing here every night?” Summer snorted acerbically.

“Maybe. Who knows what goes through a mare's mind?” he joked, ducking the expected swipe. “How was your day?”

“Weird. How was yours?” said Summer, collapsing onto the bench beside him.

“Mostly OK, then not so good. I had a bit of a fight with Twilight,” he admitted. He explained the scene in the library and some of his subsequent conversation with Cloud Kicker.

“I thought you had cleared all that up with Twilight last week?” said Summer.

“Yeah, so did I. Looks like I was wrong. I don't know, Sums, maybe I over-reacted a bit, but it's so darn frustrating when she's acting like your best friend one minute and then sneaking around behind your back the next.”

“Maybe it's not entirely her choice?”

Silver made no reply, but simply sighed.

Meanwhile, Summer was eyeing her letter like it was about to explode. “A Royal Messenger, though? I'm almost afraid to see what Mum's written, now!”

“You and me both! Perhaps I can fill in for yours?” He put on an unconvincing, warbly female voice. “And just what have you gotten yourself into, young lady? I raised you better than to have Royal Messengers checking up on you! I told you that you'd come to a bad end, hanging around with that no-good hornless palooka friend of yours!”

Summer laughed. “As if my mother would ever say, 'Palooka'! And anyway, I'm sure it would all be my fault, Mr. Apple-of-Mum's-eye! Your mum, on the other hoof, will be hammering you for leading poor, sweet little Summer astray,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“Sounds about right!” he agreed, “Strange, isn't it?”

“Did you ever wonder if our mothers put us both down in the same room once when we were really little and picked up the wrong foals by mistake?”

It felt good to laugh about things for a few minutes, but his good mood fell somewhat when Summer asked, “So, are you going back tomorrow?”

“I guess so. It's a government job, and I need the money. Nopony says I have to like it.”

Summer looked thoughtful for a minute, rubbing her hooves together pensively. “You know, I'm starting to wonder if we shouldn't just pack up and move on. This whole place has been bizarre, and half of the locals seem to think we're crooks – or worse. I don't know, Sils.”

“And some of them have been great,” he pointed out fairly. “What about your friends? Applejack and her brother have done plenty for me, too. I see your point, but I'd like to stick it out a bit longer and see what happens.”

“You're probably right,” said Summer before giving him a sly look, “And you get to stay near Cloud Kicker – prepared to admit she's cute yet?”

Silver sighed. “Oh, for Pete's sake!”

Twilight shuffled her notes dispiritedly and tried to organise them into some semblance of order. She had been surprised to uncover a sandwich under one pile, its edges curling and the carrot filling wilting, and thought rather guiltily of her neglect of Spike's work. Either way, it would suffice as dinner where it had escaped as lunch.

Her earlier enthusiasm had drained away entirely after her fight with Silver, and she felt tired and a little depressed. She paused in her tidying to rest a hoof on the Illusory. In a few hours the spell would fail and the huge tome would return to the ether. It was a shame, in a way, as it was a fascinating work, but she still had the spell to recreate it if she needed. If only more books could be called when required like this! It would revolutionise libraries – and possibly put her out of work!

With a wry smile, she flipped it open at random. Years of work, centuries of distilled knowledge and study. Maybe one day she might be able to contribute something worthy which future generations could turn to. Not like this, of course, but a notable reference nonetheless. Perhaps she could convince Princess Luna to help her with astronomy? Wow, the book even covered animals! She-

Twilight blinked, then leaned closer to study the text.

The Leprefaun is a beast much-noted for its use of illusion magic and the manipulation of light. Regarded as semi-mythical (No verifiable sightings), it is described as similar in appearance to a pony but with the horns and rear half of a goat. Traditionally associated with the primitive goddess of mischief, Loka, they are reputedly fond of leading travellers astray and moving or taking small items.

The magical attributes of the Leprefaun lie almost entirely in illusion and camouflage. Its manipulation of light and, particularly, shadow allows it to move all but unseen in most environments. By playing pipes to attract attention and showing just enough of themselves to unwary travellers, the Leprefaun is often able to lead its victims astray to a bog, marsh, or other unpleasant or awkward location.

Twilight goggled at the page and then leapt for a quill. A magical creature with sticky hooves, a habit of leading ponies astray, and able to remain invisible? It didn't take much imagination to see how such a creature could be exactly what she had searched so hard for. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Dear Princess Celestia,

It was the silence that woke her. Normally, the night was quiet but alive with the faint nocturnal scurrying and scratching of her little friends and the chirp of the crickets at the edge of the forest. Occasionally the sheep or pigs would shift about or kick their enclosures, but these were normal night time noises that her brain had long since learned to filter out. Tonight everything was unnaturally still, like the world was holding its breath.

She slipped out from under the covers, ignoring the night's chill, and tip-hoofed out onto the landing. Leaning an ear to the door of the spare room, she could hear Rainbow Dash’s slow, steady breathing as her friend slept on. She paused at the top of the stairs, trying to decide whether to go down and investigate, but it seemed silly to look for something that wasn’t there. The animals were probably cautious at the presence of an unfamiliar mare in the house – they could be incredibly sensitive to things like that. She was just tired and overwrought and had listened to too many of Twilight’s scary stories recently.

Just as she turned to go back into her room, she heard it; the gentle creak of wood on wood. Her breath hitched in her throat until she heard a second, relaxing creak, and she let out a tiny sigh. It was just the wind, pressing on the windows. Shaking her head at her over-active imagination, she crept into her room and lifted the covers to slide back into their cosy warmth-

Ker-chonk!

Her eyes flew open, recognising the deep, wooden sound of the door taking up the slack between its jamb and the bar. Must be the wind again, she thought with a shiver. Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it, she was making a silly filly of herself over nothing again. Determinedly, she pulled the covers up tight around her, pressing the pillow into shape with one hoof.

She couldn’t tell how long she lay there, but sleep refused to come. She was far too keyed up, every nerve poised to jolt her into action at the slightest disturbance. She was nearly resigned to a sleepless night and Rainbow’s mocking laughter the next morning when she realised with a start what had been bugging her.

There was no wind. The night was completely still.

The terror seized at her heart with sudden intensity. No, this was crazy; it was all in her head, she told herself firmly. A faint sound teased her ears and she froze, willing it to come again in utter dread. There, she caught it; a low, snuffling sound with occasional tiny grunts. It seemed to be close by, getting louder as it passed directly under her window, and she shrank back into her nest of covers, shaking. Badger, badger, badger, please be a badger, she pleaded within her mind. The sound paused for a minute, letting the crushing pressure of the silence rush in until she felt she must scream, but her voice was frozen in her throat. There was an almost indiscernible scraping sound, something hard against rock, and she knew that whatever-it-was had passed over the flagstones on the path past the chicken coop. Away! Go away, she willed it, nausea bubbling in her stomach.

Silence descended once again, smothering the little cottage like fog. Her hooves ached where she clutched the blankets in an unbreakable iron grip and she barely dared blink, let alone close her eyes. It was an eternity later that she heard the first distant rasp of the crickets start up in the forest and realised from the chill, strangling cling of the sheets that her coat was soaked in sweat.

The creature had gone.

She fell asleep only as daylight broke through her window.