Rainbow flapped steadily for the large cumulus drifting above their designated meeting-point, halfway between Cloudsdale and Ponyville. Unfortunately, Mr. Cumulus had brought a bunch of his buddies with him, so she was going to have plenty to do before day broke over Ponyville. She did a couple of barrel rolls to loosen up, ending with a half-loop and roll onto her cloud. She was pleased to see Raindrops and Medley were already there, although Medley looked far too excited about an ordinary Dawn Patrol, and... Cloud Kicker?

“Morning, gals. Hey, Cloud Kicker, what are you doing here?”

Raindrops and Medley chirped enthusiastic greetings, but the other Pegasus turned red-rimmed eyes on her, blinking through leaden eyelids. “Oh. Hi, Rainbow Dash. So are you OK for this morning?”

Rainbow felt an unaccustomed twinge of guilt; not only had she dragged Cloud Kicker out of bed yesterday after a hard night, but because she hadn't remembered to go and speak to her later, the other mare had turned out to cover for her today, too – on top of her regular shift. The poor mare looked absolutely shattered.

“Um... yeah, actually. Look, Cloud Kicker, I am so sorry about this, it's just that things have been a bit crazy and I really didn't think you'd cover my flank today as well unless-”

“Meh, explain later,” said Cloud Kicker muzzily, waving a dismissive hoof, “If you've got it covered, I'm going back to bed. See you in about a week.” With that, she staggered to the edge of the cloud and plummeted into space.

Guilt still gnawing her, Rainbow hurried to the edge of the cloud and looked down; far below, a figure on grey wings arced towards Ponyville. Good – she is awake enough to remember to fly!

She shook herself out of it and trotted back to the others; time to get galloping if they wanted to finish on time today. “OK, listen up; here's what we're going to do...”

It was a long and involved process, busting just enough clouds to keep the thin overcast demanded by the Weather Committee without it either breaking up or starting a downpour, but she had an experienced sidekick in Raindrops and Medley's enthusiasm meant she was a tireless worker. They were finished slightly ahead of schedule, so she dismissed the others and flew off towards the edge of the Everfree Forest.

Fluttershy's cottage looked innocent enough in the daylight. She was pleased to find the door still closed and everything in order despite their hurried departure the day before, but now something about the place made the back of her neck prickle. She made her way upstairs and quickly threw some personal items into a bag so they wouldn't have to scrounge off Twilight. Somewhere behind the cottage she could hear a rhythmic banging; some of the animals trying to get her attention, perhaps. No doubt they wanted to be fed and let out of their night-time enclosures. Little pests. With a sigh, she headed back downstairs.

The moment she set hoof out the back door she was swarmed by birds, all chattering agitatedly as they swooped close around her and perched on her back, her neck, even her ears. “Yeah, yeah, I'm getting there, hold your horses!” she grumbled, ears flickering irritatedly to keep them off, “Anyway, aren't you little twerps supposed to be wild animals? What did you do before Fluttershy started feeding you?”

She pulled open the seed store, and what seemed like every bird in the forest flooded in after her. “Argh! Get out of there, you pesky little...!” Her insults trailed away when she realised that the instead of attacking the food inside, the birds had perched on just about every surface, glittering black eyes watching her anxiously from every corner of the small shack. Thoroughly unnerved, she quickly slapped some food in the various feeders and hung them in their usual positions, but the birds ignored them, refusing to come out.

Meanwhile, the thumps were still coming from the sheep enclosure. Could it get any weirder, she thought to herself, watching the door shiver under the repeated impacts. Oh well, here goes...

She lifted the latch and was nearly bowled over by a tumbling mass of panicked sheep, all bleating loudly as they burst free, but it wasn't the usual joyful gambol of unpenned sheep. Instead, they formed a single, dense mass of wool and cloven hooves and terrified eyes which careered towards Ponyville. “Hey, get back here, damn it!” Rainbow yelled after them futilely, before letting out a groan, “Oh, Celestia! Fluttershy's never going to speak to me again after this!”

Shaking her head, she turned for the chicken coop. Might as well get it all-

She let out a shriek and scrambled backwards, falling onto her hocks as her hooves slipped in something damp, her wings flaring reflexively. The wreckage of something lay strewn on the path in front of her, staining the earth darkly here and there... and there... and-

She gagged and turned away, closing her eyes, but her shocked hyperventilation brought faint whiffs of the blood and the cloying, sweet stench of decay, her ears filled with the eager buzz of the feasting blowflies. Gritting her teeth, she forced the bile back in her throat and cautiously opened one eye. The signs of the carnage were spread all along the side of the chicken coop. She forced herself to look on the mutilated remains, but there was no telling what it had been. A badger, or a raccoon, maybe. Whatever it had been, it hadn't deserved the hideous end it had met next to the safest sanctuary an animal would find this close to the Everfree.

She couldn't leave it, not where Fluttershy or anypony else might come across it. She rummaged around until she found a spade, and chose an empty patch of ground with a clear view in all directions. She dug frantically, stopping every few spadefuls to glance wildly around her, icy fingers dancing along her spine as she worked and sweated feverishly. Finally, she judged that the pathetic grave was deep enough. Now for the hardest part.

She eased the spade under the largest section of remains, eyes closed to slits to avoid seeing the desecration any more closely than she had to. Shaking, she lifted, disturbing a cloud of blowflies and-

Her stomach heaved, and she dropped the spade and turned aside. By the time she had herself under control, she felt weak and shaky, her throat and nostrils burning. She tried again, and this time succeeded in transferring her load to the grave. She had to make several trips, but with the first part done she found it strangely easier each time. Finally, her gruesome work complete, she scraped the soil quickly back into the tomb, apologising in her head for the careless haste with which she worked.

She left the spade sticking up as a forlorn marker and returned to the chicken coop one last time. Her senses were on full alert now, ears twitching and head darting around nervously at every sound, but the deathly silence coming from the coop made her fear the worst. Quickly, she pulled the door open and leapt backwards, out of reach of anything lurking inside. She cursed her imagination as she heard a scuffle break out inside and, remaining at a distance, crouched to peer inside.

There was a cautious cluck, followed by a rapid chorus, and suddenly the chickens came trotting down the ramp in single file. They didn't hesitate on reaching the ground but immediately set out after the sheep, looking neither left nor right but waddling comically in their haste to reach Ponyville.

The sigh of the wind in the trees behind her made her jump, and before gravity could take over her wings had made the decision for her. Proposed by the sheep, seconded by the chickens. Who am I to argue? Motion carried, let's get the hay out of here!

She climbed rapidly into the air and flew as hard as she could for the Library.

It wasn't a matter of not having enough hours in the day, it was a matter of not having enough heads to keep track of everything at once, Twilight thought distractedly, trotting briskly across the library. A letter from the Mayor floated in front of her, together with a scroll from the Head Archivist and a thin reference guide, and two more hefty tomes trailed in her wake, all caught in her magic. As if she didn't have-

She barely had time to register the door crash open before she was bowled over, bouncing painfully across the floor as somepony's knees rammed the breath from her lungs. She lay stunned on her side for a moment, fragments of the letters drifting down around her as she tried to force air back into her lungs. Distantly, she heard the slam of a book hitting the floor. Or the wall.

“Sorry, Twilight,” croaked a voice in her ear, and she looked over to see Rainbow Dash sprawled next to her. Twilight's flare of irritation sputtered and died as she registered the mare's dilated eyes, the pupils huge. She was a mess, smeared with dirt and leaves, and the end of her multi-coloured tail was stained with something dark.

“Rainbow Dash? Ohmygosh, what happened, are you all right?”

Twilight scrambled to her hooves, trying to ignore the crushing, leaden ache in her side.

“Where's Fluttershy?” Rainbow's voice sounded harsh, and Twilight could smell the sourness of her breath as she spoke.

“She's upstairs. Having a bath, I think. Rainbow, what's going on?” She held out a hoof and pulled the Pegasus upright onto shaking, unsteady legs. “Spike? Is the kettle on?” she called out.

“Yeah, just filled it,” came her assistant’s voice from the kitchen, “Why, what's-” he broke off abruptly, stopping dead in the doorway at the sight of the wretched-looking Pegasus. “Holy smokes, what happened to you?”

“That's what we're about to find out,” said Twilight. “Tea, I think, and don't spare the sugar. Come on now, Rainbow, you'll feel better after something hot.”

She coaxed her though into the kitchen and sat her at the kitchen table. Twilight took up her usual chair but left her friend in peace while Spike brewed up, and Rainbow seemed to be content with staring down at the table, running a hoof slowly back and forth along the worn grain of the wood. Spike's tea, when it arrived, was strong and heavily laced with sugar. Rainbow wrapped both hooves around her mug and stared vacantly down at it for a moment before taking a sip, flinching a little as she scalded her mouth.

“I've just been to Fluttershy's,” Rainbow said in a dull voice. “I... Fluttershy's going to kill me!”

Twilight blinked at the abrupt outburst. “Uh, OK. Tell me what happened, from the start.”

“I dropped by Fluttershy's place after we finished the Dawn Patrol,” said Rainbow. “I thought I should collect some things from the cottage, and I was supposed to feed the animals and stuff.”

In a low voice, she explained the jittery feeling she had felt around the house, and the strange behaviour of the birds and the sheep, but when Rainbow explained what she had found beside the chicken coop, Twilight had a hard job keeping the revulsion off her face.

“I had to do something, Twilight! I couldn't just leave it there, not where Fluttershy was going to see it. I dunno, I just hope it wasn't one of her regular visitors or something.” The Pegasus let out a long sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. “I think it must have been your monster, Twilight. It's angry. I don't know if that critter was just unlucky, or, or-”

“Or it was angry because you and Fluttershy had gone,” Twilight finished for her.

Rainbow looked away, her teeth rattling slightly on her mug. “Yeah,” she muttered in an uncharacteristically-subdued tone.

An uncomfortable, heavy silence descended on the kitchen. “I need to write to the Princess,” Twilight said at last, “I've got to convince her to change her mind; we need to warn ponies, or something terrible's going to happen. Urgh, we need more time! This is all happening too quickly-”

“Twilight Sparkle? Are you there?” came an unexpected male voice from the main library.

“In here,” she called, and her heart sank to see Time Turner trot in, his spiky brown mane looking even more tousled than usual and his face anxious.

“I'm sorry, but the Mayor needs to see you right away,” he said, passing her a note.

“What now?” Twilight sighed. She had been halfway through the Mayor's letter about a spate of ponies reporting thefts this morning when she had been so unexpectedly interrupted.

The tan pony shuffled nervously, “Well, originally it was about the crowd of angry ponies in her office, but I think now it's also about the flock of sheep which has suddenly taken over the ground floor of the Town Hall.”

Twilight looked at him in despair, “It's going to be fun, explaining this one.”

“I am a dead pony,” Rainbow Dash sighed dispiritedly.

To ponies and sheep, add chickens, stir gently, and let chaos unfold. This really is ludicrous, Twilight thought, watching with disbelief past the hoof massaging the growing ache in her head. We just need a parade and a dancing band to round things off. Hmm, I wonder what Pinkie's up to today?

The sheep had spread themselves across the large conference room that formed the lower storey of the town hall, scattered between tables and chairs and looking around placidly with the dull bewilderment of their kind. Time Turner immediately started trying to shepherd them to the door, but one lone pony was no match for an experienced herd with no desire whatsoever to leave. Twilight heard a cry of anguish from poor Turner as he found one of them nibbling discreetly on the curtains. Meanwhile, the chickens peered down curiously from their perches on the highest surfaces within their reach. Judging by the proprietorial way they had settled in, it seemed that the Mayor was going to have to get used to her unusual company. Speaking of whom; belligerent voices echoed from above, and with a groan of reluctance Twilight started up the stairs; all things considered, she'd prefer dealing with the chickens and sheep!

“-weeks, and you're just sitting on this. We want to see some action!” spat an irate pony, to a cheer of agreement from the others. There were so many ponies jammed into the Mayor's office that they spilled out onto the landing, and Twilight had to rear up on her hind legs to see over the crowd. The Mayor was tightly hemmed in on all sides behind her desk, and looking rather desperate, so it was inevitable that she should jump on Twilight putting her head over the parapet, so to speak.

“There has been plenty of action in this case, but it isn't as straightforward as it may appear at first glance,” said the Mayor smoothly, “Like a duck, everything may appear tranquil on the surface but I can assure you that we're paddling like the clappers underneath. There are a number of top ponies working on this, both here in Ponyville and at a national level and, in fact, here's one of them now. Won't you come in, Twilight? Perhaps you can explain to these ponies how close you are to making an arrest?”

You cunning, slippery old nag, Twilight thought sourly. She stepped forward and started nudging her way to the front, mainly to give herself some time to think. She could feel their eyes burning on her back, and had to resist an urge to turn and bolt. She eased her way around the Mayor's desk and got a broad, polite smile, with the sort of sincerity that only a politician could fake. She reared up to place her front hooves on top of the desk, trying to command attention.

“Uh... good morning, everypony.”

Good grief, this sounds like some sort of pre-packaged press statement already, she thought. If only it was! Either way, the crowd stilled and watched her expectantly, with varying degrees of hostility.

“I know that you're all here regarding the recent spate of thefts in Ponyville. I have been working closely with various ponies in Canterlot and even Princess Celestia herself for some time to identify-”

“Stop preening and get to the point,” came an impatient voice from the back. Twilight flushed, and tried to ignore them.

“-to identify the cause and put a stop to it.”

“We know what the cause is; the question is, what are you going to do about it – and when?!” A different voice this time, but a murmur of agreement rippled around the room.

“It's not that straightforward,” Twilight tried patiently, painfully aware that she was losing them, “The investigation has been greatly hampered by the lack of reliable information we have had to work with. What information there is indicates that it is not a pony that is responsible.”

“Sure it isn't,” snorted a sceptical blue Unicorn, “So you're telling us it's an irresponsible pony?”

There was an outbreak of sniggering, and Twilight took a deep breath and counted to ten.

“There have been similar incidents in the past around Equestria. The culprit is not a pony.”

Hopefully, the Princess would forgive her that little titbit of information.

“So it's a travelling pony, we get it. Stop trying to wriggle out of it!”

“It's not a pony!” Twilight snapped irritatedly, “Look, I understand that you are all angry that your things are being taken, but we need to work together-”

“Oh, come on! Everypony knows it's that Silver Braise and Summer Clip! The only pony still trying to deny it is you!” said a voice from the far corner.

“As if she's going to turn her coltfriend in!” snickered another.

“Working together to... I... what?!” she spluttered to a halt. Had they just...?

“We know it. You know it. Everypony knows it,” said Roseluck impatiently, “Everything was fine until they showed up. Come on, Twilight, it doesn't take a genius to work it out.”

“Either you run the mud-grubber and his buddy out of town, or we will!” snarled a rough voice.

There was a brief, shocked silence, and the Mayor shot out of her chair and slammed her hooves down on the desk in front of her. “Enough! How dare you use that sort of language in my office!” Her eyes swept the crowd fiercely, and Twilight resentfully appreciated her ability to command an audience. There was a certain amount of shamed shuffling in the crowd, but nopony was brave enough or stupid enough to speak. “I will not tolerate that sort of speech in Ponyville! Now, Twilight Sparkle is in charge of this investigation, and I would urge you all to keep a sharp eye out around town and report anything suspicious to Twilight and I. As for Mr. Braise and Miss Clip, I should be very disappointed if anything was to happen to them without due process of the law. Do I make myself clear? I said, do I make myself clear?”

There was a reluctant general grumble of agreement.

“Good. Now, I know you're all busy ponies, so don't let me detain you.”

With that, the Mayor sank back into her seat, smiling that warm, reassuring smile that grated on Twilight's nerves like hooves on a blackboard. Whatever else it was, it seemed to be effective as the ponies filed slowly out, muttering darkly among themselves. When the last one left, the smile drained off the Mayor's face like it had never been.

“So, is there any reason I shouldn't chase those two all the way back to Manechester and make myself the most popular pony in Ponyville?”

Twilight resisted the urge to throttle her, but only just. “Because it isn't them! Not only that, it physically can't be them! For the first time, we have witnesses and solid leads on this thing, but we're going to need time to-”

The Mayor leaned forward, getting right up in Twilight's face. “Perhaps you don't understand, Twilight; my citizens are being robbed blind and every extra day reflects badly on me! I want results! I don't care who it is or what you have to do, but there is an election coming up next year, and right now my approval rating is somewhere behind Nightmare Moon and the Windigos! Am I making myself clear, here?”

Nope, she was being too kind; Twilight wanted to buck her in the face and then strangle her. “Crystal,” she grated out between gritted teeth. The Mayor subsided into her chair again, the fake smile back in place.

“Excellent! Now for matters closer to home, what the hay am I doing with half a farmyard downstairs?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “There was an attack at Fluttershy's last night; an animal was killed. When Rainbow Dash checked on the animals this morning, they escaped and fled to Ponyville.”

“Then you'd best tell Fluttershy that unless her pets are gone from here within the hour, I will lock the doors and throw in a Timberwolf! Now, I believe you have a thief to catch?”

Twilight hurried back to the library and, after a quick discussion with Rainbow Dash, suggesting that she get Applejack to help her round up the stray animals, threw herself into her studies, poring feverishly through any book she could get her hooves on. She kept Spike busy, running for more books or sending letters and requests to Canterlot, and when the little dragon called it a night and went up to bed she forced herself to keep going far into the night.

After a brief nap, she dragged herself back to work shortly after dawn, and with noon approaching and the text now starting to dance and waver tantalisingly in front of her aching eyes with no sign of progress, she felt like breaking down and crying out of the sheer frustration of it all. The arrival of Pinkie Pie, with a bounce and a smile, and a heavy paper bag dumped all over her book, was a blessed distraction.

“Hey Twilight!” Pinkie chirped happily, before leaning her head close and rocking it from side to side as she examined her friend. “Whoo, you don't look so good. Your eyes are all nang-a-nang-a-nang and your mane's started going sproing! in places, and that is never a good sign!”

To her surprise, Twilight had to stifle a giggle. “Nang-a-nang and going sproing? I see. It's a good thing you're here, then!”

Pinkie beamed, “I know, right? And to cheer you up, I brought some cupcakes, because everypony loves cupcakes and there's nothing like a cupcake for making you feel better. And then I thought, the only thing that's better than cupcakes is chocolate, and the only thing better than cupcakes and chocolate is chocolate cupcakes! It's practically science! And if there's one pony in Ponyville who knows all about science, it's got to be Twilight Sparkle, so here I am!”

Twilight just looked at her in fond bewilderment. She was dog-tired, her head ached abominably, her eyes felt raw, and if it had been any other pony she didn't know if she would have screamed at them hysterically or just broken down and wept like a filly. Instead, some of the tension drained out of her and the world seemed a slightly brighter place. “Thanks, Pinkie. Care to help me with some experiments, then?”

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say; Pinkie let out a loud cheer and zoomed out into the corridor. She reappeared seconds later, wearing Twilight's old lab coat and holding a clipboard. “Now then, according to my test protocol, I have created three dosage strengths in cupcake form; chocolate chip; chocolate chocolate chip, and double-chocolate chocolate chip with white chocolate icing and extra chocolate sprinkles.”

“Whoa!” said Twilight, “You're obviously taking no chances with that last one!”

“For science, Twilight! Now, take a cupcake out of the bag; I hope you know what to do from there?”

Twilight had to laugh. “I think I'll work it out,” she said, her magic unravelling the top of the bag and floating a cupcake out in front of her. It was a beautiful golden colour, and smelled deliciously fresh and slightly warm. “So, is this a chocolate chip one?”

Pinkie looked at her in horror. “Don't be silly, silly, it's a placebo! What sort of experiment do you think this would be if I didn't have a negative control?” she demanded, snatching it out of Twilight's hooves. “Try one of the others,” she instructed, lobbing the cupcake into the air and engulfing it in a single bite.

“Uh... you just ate the control,” Twilight pointed out, levitating another cupcake out of the bag.

“I know, and I already feel better; see, it works! Now if only I could make a double-strength one...?”

Privately, Twilight wasn't convinced that was how it was supposed to work. “A double-strength placebo? Interesting idea, Pinkie! Now, what do I have here? Chocolate chocolate chip?”

She was about to take a bite when Pinkie shrieked, “Wait!”, and she looked up in confusion.

“First you've got to tell me how you feel! Sheesh, Twilight, where's your scientific rigour?”

“Taking a break with my sense of civic duty,” she replied cynically. If the Mayor hadn't tried her shameless guilt-trip earlier, Twilight might feel bad about taking a few minutes off. Might feel bad about it. “I feel... tired.”

It was the opening of a floodgate, a trigger deep in her brain, and suddenly the words were tumbling out, rushing like water down a sluice.

“I'm used to ponies coming to me with problems. Big problems, little problems, whatever, but in the past it was always, can you help? But now this thing has been dumped on me, even if it wasn't intended that way, and it's huge, and ponies just expect me to produce an answer out of thin air, and all I'm hearing is, why haven't you solved it yet? Because they just assume that it's because I'm not trying, or worse, deliberately not doing anything! And I can't just throw it back in their faces because I know how important it is, probably better than they do, and they take advantage of it and I'm... I'm tired of it, Pinkie.”

Good grief, she sounded whiny and self-indulgent, but it was true. Pinkie's cheerful expression remained fixed, but she blinked rapidly, and Twilight could almost see the thoughts cycling in her head.

“Well, go on; eat the cupcake,” Pinkie prodded at last.

Twilight took a bite and closed her eyes, chewing slowly, savouring the smooth springy sweetness with the denser bursts of intense cocoa. When she swallowed the last piece and opened her eyes, she found Pinkie staring at her with her head cocked to one side. Pinkie mumbled something around the pencil gripped in her teeth, which Twilight interpreted as “How do you feel?”

She pondered the question for a few moments. “Better, actually,” she admitted, to her surprise. Whether it was the catharsis or the muffin, she couldn't tell, but her spirits felt distinctly lighter.

Pinkie carefully made a tick on her clipboard, then tossed everything into the air and let out a whoop. “See? I knew it would work! Flawless victory for cupcakes and science!” she cheered, with a double hoof-pump, “And now... now we have spare cupcakes! It's a winner all 'round!”

Twilight grinned, “Thanks, Pinkie.”

“I think you'd better take the double-chocolate chocolate chip with white chocolate icing and extra chocolate sprinkles one, though, just to be safe.”

Twilight levitated the two remaining cupcakes out of the bag and passed one to Pinkie, who fell on it like a ravening horde of Parasprites. They ate in silence, and Twilight used the moment to consider her friend. Somehow, Pinkie and her usual crazy antics had managed to lighten the burden that Twilight felt – antics which generally only made sense afterwards. In fact, her strange bursts of improbable logic and insight often seemed to come at crucial moments. It was times like this that she could never tell whether Pinkie was just slightly crazy or in fact the smartest of all of them. Of course, the two weren't necessarily mutually exclusive, but it happened a little too often to be merely chance.

“So... how's it going?”

Twilight looked over to see a nervous, guilty grin plastered on Pinkie's face. “Good and bad,” she sighed, “On one hoof, because I now have a better idea of what I'm looking for I've been able to discount a lot of things, but on the other hoof, I haven't really been able to actually rule anything in.”

“Have you considered that you might be looking in the wrong place?”

“Frequently, although I think I'm running out of alternative places to look.”

“I know you'll find it, Twilight! Although... you know, Fluttershy's description sounded kinda familiar?”

Twilight's head jerked up with a start. “Really? From where? What was it?”

Pinkie shrugged infuriatingly. “There was something in this book I read. You probably have a copy somewhere, actually.”

Twilight was surprised to find that she'd grabbed Pinkie by the shoulders and was shaking her, “Where? Where? What was it?” she begged frantically.

“The Terror of the Night-Gaunt!” said Pinkie, drawing the words out spookily.

Twilight stopped in mid-shake and gave her a sceptical look. “The Night-Gaunt?” she repeated. “What the hay is a Night-Gaunt?”

Pinkie giggled and slipped out of Twilight's grasp, bouncing exuberantly through into the library. With a shake, Twilight trotted after her. After some rummaging in the stacks, Pinkie reappeared and spat a book into Twilight's hooves. “There ya go!”

“'Eldritch Equestria: The Unknowable Horror In Paradise'” Twilight read, before frowning and flipping it over to see the spine. “Pinkie! It's fiction!” she groaned in exasperation.

Pinkie looked at her blankly. “So?”

“So it's fabricated fantasy! It's a whole world of whoppers! It's a bunch of stupid made-up stories!”

Pinkie gave her a strange look. “There are more things in Equestria, Twilight, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Twilight blinked, stopped dead in mid-rant by Pinkie's strange pronouncement. Was this one of Pinkie's strange, serendipitous, sly suggestions? She looked down at the book again and cleared her throat. “So, uh... where did you find this, again?”

“Silly! It was filed under 'L'!” giggled Pinkie with a beatific smile. “Anyway, I ought to be getting back to work. Give it a try,” she suggested carelessly, reaching over to flip it open to a particular page, “And if it doesn't help, at least you've read a cool story! 'Bye, Twilight!”

With that, she bounced out singing to herself, leaving a very confused Unicorn behind her. Frowning, Twilight tilted the book to find the author's name; H. P. Lovecart. It didn't ring any bells, but it sounded like it might be more up Spike's alley than hers. She glanced around, unwilling to face his mockery if he saw her reduced to resorting to fiction, and then smuggled it back up to her study. Well, it's not like anything else was helping...

Modern Equestria is a bright and sunny place, carefully tended by the three pony races who thrive in its fertile and unthreatening utopia but are increasingly unaware of the dark and violent past to their lands. Indeed, the flame of ponydom flickered and was nearly extinguished several times over centuries of struggle by our benign eternal goddess to bring the peace and prosperity they now enjoy. As a result of such ignorance and complacency, the old fears slowly drift out of the public consciousness and become superstitions of the past, before finally even such superstitions are forgotten, so that when the ancient horrors which once stalked our lands stir at last from their deep slumbers, the modern pony is utterly unprepared for the hopeless struggle against the dark. The ill-starred co-incidence of a modern community with the fleeting wakefulness of one of these primeval abominations is well-known to me, for I had the misfortune to observe its downfall intimately, being the neighbour to my own.

Neither this doomed village or, indeed, my own, drew any particular note from the great and the good of Equestria. My home town, situated on the southern side of a low valley, was the more prosperous of the two; the other, clinging to the north face of an abruptly rising hill and hemmed in by a densely-tangled forest, was a grim, cheerless place of hard labour and near-poverty, but underpinning such a hard-scrabble existence in the poor and rocky soils that surrounded it was the strong and generous spirit of the families who lived there and shared the hardships of such a life. And yet the fate of that village, to the few ponies in possession of certain information, equals or outranks in horror the wildest fantasy, and stands starkly leering as a symbol of all that is unutterably hideous.

When tragedy befell this unluckiest of villages I myself was a mere callow youth, full of the self-importance of those a year or two from adulthood and without the maturity of that much-desired status to temper my impetuousness. Thus, in recording the sorry history of this place, I am indebted to the diaries of my aunt, Surge Victor, a learned Unicorn of acute observation with a natural predilection for local history, which confirmed my own careless memories and revealed to me at length the darker, vaguer surmises which formed an undercurrent of folklore among old-time servants and humble folk; surmises which never travelled far, and yet which were largely forgotten by the more prosperous ponies of my own village...

It was a relatively short story, and when she'd finished Twilight went back and re-read it more thoroughly. There was a lot of old-fashioned exposition, superstition, and general hooey, but some of the underlying elements were disturbingly familiar; a trail of mysterious thefts; the fragmentary recollections of ponies unfortunate enough to draw the creature's attention, ponies whose health plummeted as they found themselves unable to sleep and their paranoia increasing until at least one was driven mad. The creature was described as a spindly, equine-like figure of smoke and tattered wisps of darkness with glowing eyes, not dissimilar to Fluttershy's description, although it also featured sweeping horns and black, diaphanous wings. The story ended, predictably enough for its type, in a terrible bloodbath of the village's foals followed by the lynching of an unfortunate outsider by the enraged parents looking for somepony to blame, and the village's eventual abandonment in a welter of recriminations, fear, and guilt. A good Nightmare Night tale, if you liked that sort of thing, but was it any more than that?

The scholar in Twilight urged her to reject it all as a twisted fantasy, but a strange, insistent logic made her wonder.

There are more things in Equestria, Twilight, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

What a peculiar choice of words, and just when she was contemplating Pinkie's apparent ability to conjure bizarre solutions from nothing. Many fables had their roots in ancient superstitions and half-remembered folklore; could a grain of truth be hidden in this more modern tale? What exactly was Pinkie trying to tell her by giving her this book? Was she merely over-analysing a co-incidence? After all, almost all stories had been told before at some point.

Parasprites.

The word floated into her head, and she recalled guiltily the near-destruction of Ponyville because everypony was too focussed on the crisis at hoof to listen to the one pony approaching things from a different angle. There was a lesson, there – one that she'd written to the Princess about, in fact.

Undecided, she pulled out a fresh scroll and scribbled her thoughts down, marking it for Celestia's private attention; she wasn't prepared to parade this sort of thing under the noses of the other ponies working on this in Canterlot, but she couldn't quite bring herself to disregard it. If nothing else, maybe she'd give her mentor a bit of a laugh.

“Come on, wakey-wakey, sleepyhead!”

Twilight was vaguely aware of Spike shaking her. Had she fallen asleep? She raised her head from the table, blinking vaguely as her brain got up to speed; yup. Ew, gross, she'd also drooled! And-

She jerked upright with a gasp. “What? How long was I asleep?” she spluttered frantically.

Spike rolled his eyes, shoving scrolls at her. “About half an hour, I think.”

“And you just let me?!”

“You needed it, now stop panicking! Letters for you from the Princess; they're urgent. And if you're really lucky, I might make you some coffee.”

Twilight pressed her hooves against her eyes, trying to force back the fuzziness in her head, and then tried to wipe the dried spittle off her cheek. “Thanks, Spike, and the coffee sounds great.”

Dear Twilight,

Thank you for your most recent research notes, which I have passed on to the team here in Canterlot. Progress here has also been slow, but your diligent efforts are very much appreciated. Dusty Tomes will be in touch shortly with the latest schedule for co-ordinating everypony's efforts.

With regard to your message of yesterday, I must reluctantly agree that it is time to warn the citizens of Ponyville. I have discussed this at length with certain ponies and we concluded that, particularly in light of the attack on the animal at Fluttershy's, we must assume that the creature's behaviour is now approaching its most dangerous point and accordingly we can no longer allow Ponyville to live in ignorance or fail to take basic safety precautions. Please find enclosed a scroll for the Mayor, containing detailed instructions. Please read it thoroughly and note that there are certain elements that have been omitted from this scroll that I believe should remain confidential, and the Mayor will not be privy to these.

Finally, with regard to your separate scroll; you raise an intriguing point. H. P. Lovecart was a strange and deeply troubled mare with a strong inclination towards the occult and uncanny, as well as a gifted writer. Most of her stories were indeed invented based on her own, peculiar mythos, but occasionally echoes of the long-forgotten past ring through them. The Terror of the Night-Gaunt is an interesting pastiche; for the large part invented, and yet seasoned with various myths and one or two elements of the very ancient past. Certainly you are correct when you say that parts of the story appear similar to our current conundrum, although whether this is by chance or by design is impossible to say.

Given the lack of progress on our mystery, your letter arrives at a point when I am starting to reconsider certain possibilities that I had long since discarded. Perhaps it is time that certain myths were re-visited, to ensure that the past remains in the past.

Cordially yours,

Celestia
Goddess of how many times, Dip Qui-

Underneath the final, crossed-out line, a different script appeared:-

Don't mind him, he's young and still learning! ~C.

Twilight had to grin at her mentor's exasperation with her scribe. The reference to 'certain ponies' almost certainly meant the C.I.A., and she wondered idly if they were keeping their own watch on Ponyville, but the only new ponies in town recently were... oh. For a second she almost considered it, then discarded the idea as ridiculous.

Her eye kept being drawn to that last paragraph. Something about it suggested that perhaps the Princess had the outline of a solution?

Perhaps it is time that certain myths were re-visited, to ensure that the past remains in the past.

That sounded oddly specific. She was pondering just what might be going through the Princess's mind when the door crashed open and Applejack galloped in, hat askew and gulping for air.

“Twilight? Twilight, we got a problem!”