Miss Cheerilee wasn't a bad teacher, all in all, but the warm afternoon and Equestrian Geography had reduced her students to a torpor from which they were only just starting to emerge. Books were eased silently into their desks and bags, pencils and other stray materials were tidied away, and each foal's attention was drawn increasingly to the battered old clock, willing it to tick faster.

Finally, Miss Cheerilee gave up the unequal battle for their attention. “I think that will do for this week. Remember, we have a history test on Monday, and I expect your homework on the Griffon clan structure on my desk first thing on Monday morning. And there will be no extensions, Diamond Tiara!” she added firmly, and the little pale-purple filly who had opened her mouth to speak deflated dejectedly.

The sudden, harsh rattle overhead was more like the starter's bell at the Running of the Leaves. Perhaps they ought to call this the Running of the Foals, Apple Bloom thought idly as she rammed everything into her saddlebags as fast as possible.

“Have a good weekend, everypony!” Miss Cheerilee called, um, cheerily, from the front. By this point, Truffle had once again belied his bulky frame to be halfway to the school-yard gate. How he managed it, she couldn't begin to imagine, but she wondered once again whether he would be the first Earth pony to join the Wonderbolts.

She met Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, who were waiting impatiently by the door for her, and together they walked more slowly out of the schoolhouse, happy to have the other foals leave them well behind. “Another week done,” she sighed when she reached the gate.

“An' now we got a whole weekend to do some crusading!” cheered Sweetie Belle excitedly.

“Yeah. Woo. Crusading, and three whole pages on the boring old Griffons! Who cares about a bunch of stupid Griffons, anyhow? The only Griffon that's ever come to Ponyville was that old friend of Rainbow Dash's, and she turned out to be a complete jerk!”

“Was not!” insisted Scootaloo, although Apple Bloom thought it was more of a reflex than anything.

Sweetie rolled her eyes, but was smart enough not to argue. “Look, I say if we meet up on Sunday morning at the clubhouse and help each other, we'll get them done in no time. That means we got a whole bunch of crusading time 'tween now and then.”

“Parachuting. That's got to be it,” said Scoots, with a wild gleam in her eye.

“No!” Apple Bloom and Sweetie exclaimed together.

“I ain't never going near Ghastly Gorge ever again!” Apple Bloom added firmly, “And the zip-lining was bad enough!”

“And we already done mountain climbing – there's no reason to add throwing ourselves off once we get to the top!” said Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo flicked her wings in irritation. “Fine! And anyway, I bet we won't be allowed out on our own with that stupid monster everypony's talking about.”

“Not anywhere out of town,” Sweetie Belle gulped, “My sister would have my hide!”

“Mine, too!”

A slow, sly smile crept over Scootaloo's face. “Cutie Mark Crusader Monster Catchers?” she suggested.

“No!”

“Aw, come on! I don't hear you two suggesting anything?”

They trotted in the general direction of the fountain, bouncing ideas off each other for gaining their cutie marks, but they were beginning to run out of inspiration. A thought had been growing in Apple Bloom's mind, and she decided to suggest it.

“How about we go and see Mr. Braise? I bet he must have something we ain't tried yet?”

“Mr. Who?”

“Not Mr. Hooves, Mr. Braise. You know, that new pony that does wood and stuff.”

“Uh, doesn't he live out of town? And weren't we just saying we'll get in trouble if we go out of Ponyville?” Scootaloo reminded her sarcastically.

“I've heard ponies talking about him, too. Some of it sounded pretty bad,” said Sweetie Belle worriedly.

“That's all wrong, I heard my sister and brother talking about that. And he's been down to the farm loads of times, he's real nice,” said Apple Bloom, glossing over some of what Applejack and Macintosh had talked about when they thought she wasn't listening. “And anyway, it's only just over the bridge; it's closer to Ponyville than the clubhouse!”

The other two looked at each other for a moment.

“I dunno, it sounds kinda lame,” said Scootaloo.

“That's your answer for anything that isn't called Rainbow Dash,” Apple Bloom snorted.

Scootaloo bristled, but Sweetie cut in before she could get going, “Well, it's either that or we go home and start on studying for that History test?”

Scootaloo made a face at Apple Bloom, but reluctantly agreed. “Hours of learning about mad old rulers from Scandineighvia, or crusading and maybe getting our cutie marks; it's not even a choice! Let's get it over with, then.”

Still bickering, the three fillies turned and headed east out of Ponyville.

The last touch of pencil disappeared under his careful chisel, borne off on the tiny shaving which fell away, freeing the acorn at last. He could hear youthful voices approaching, and set his tool aside with a sigh when he heard a hoof tapping on his door.

He found three little fillies looking up at him from his doorstep. Apple Bloom, Applejack's little sister, was unmistakable with the large pink bow in her mane, and she was with a pale-grey Unicorn with a pink and purple mane, and a studiously bored-looking bright orange Pegasus. From the bright, angelic smiles they turned on him, he knew immediately that they were going to be trouble.

“Hi, Apple Bloom. What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Howdy, Mr. Braise! This here's my friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, and we're the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We're trying to find our special talents, and we were hopin' that maybe you'd be able to help us!”

He briefly thought about turning them away, but wilted under their combined, weapons-grade puppy-dog eyes. “So, cutie marks, huh? Have you fillies got any ideas what your special talents might be?”

“Well... nope,” admitted Apple Bloom

“Nada,” added the Unicorn, Sweetie Belle.

“I got nothing, but I bet it's going to be something awesome!”

Silver had to hide a smile at the little Pegasus' bravado.

“Well, in some ways, you've got it easier than me. I had a whole bunch of ponies ready to tell me what they thought it ought to be, but not many prepared to let me find out for myself.”

“But it could be anything,” said Apple Bloom forlornly.

“Yeah, so we're trying to do as many things as possible to see what they might be,” added Scootaloo.

He smiled, thinking of some of the things that he and Summer had got up to as foals. “Generally, I think you probably already know what it's going to be, you just have to realise it.”

Sweetie Belle frowned up at him, perplexed. “So we should already just know? How does that work?”

Silver thought for a bit. “What's my cutie mark?”

They all craned their heads to see. “It's a... well...,” Sweetie Belle gave up.

“One of them pointy things, for drawing circles,” said Apple Bloom.

“That's right; or more accurately, they're dividers; used for measuring things. You know what I do, don't you, Apple Bloom?”

“You're a carpenter. You work for my brother an' sister down on the farm,” the little filly said, visibly perking up at the thought of her family.

“Well, sometimes I do, yes. Now then; how do you tell I'm a Carpenter from my cutie mark?”

As he expected, he was faced with three blank faces. Well, two blank faces and a Pegasus which was rapidly losing interest, but what the hay. “Why not a, I don't know, a cartographer?

“What's a cartographer?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“A map-maker, then? Or a wheelwright, or a cooper, or a geographer?”

“Ugh, don't even mention geography,” muttered Scootaloo in disdain.

“You still haven't said what a carto-whatever is,” Sweetie Belle protested.

“A cartographer is a map-maker, silly!” said Apple Bloom impatiently.

“Oh, sor-ry for not being a walking dictionary like some ponies!”

“Hey, hey, that's enough!” said Silver, trying to head off their squabbling, “Anyway, the point is, dividers could be mean any number of things, so how did I know what they meant?”

He grinned at their incomprehension. “I did wonder if I was supposed to be a wheelwright for a little while, seeing as that was what I was doing when it appeared, but when I thought about it for a bit I realised that my talents were a little broader than that. Carpentry and wood-working. So here I am today,” he finished, with a joking little bow.

“That's... huh.” Sweetie Belle looked completely lost.

“Well... could you let us try something anyway? You know, just in case,” said Apple Bloom, with a winning smile.

“You never know, right? I don't see why not-”

Before he'd finished speaking, the three fillies let out a cheer and charged into his workshop. He felt a momentary flare of panic, “Hey! Get back here right now!” he barked angrily. A moment later, three little heads came out and lined up in front of him looking contrite. He took a deep breath.

“OK. Before anypony touches anything, there's some stuff you need to know,” he began in a calm voice. “A whole lot of stuff in there is very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. I don't want to have to explain to anypony's parents how they managed to get hurt, so the first rule is that you always listen to me, and you don't touch anything I don't tell you to, OK?”

He got three solemn nods, and continued, “Some stuff in there is heavy and it can crush you if you're not careful, but we won't be doing anything with that. We will be working with lots of things that are very sharp, though, so you need to be very careful so that nopony slips or does anything careless. That means no horsing around. If there's any horseplay, all three of you are going straight home and you won't be coming back, am I clear? Good. Even if you're careful you can make mistakes, and sometimes mistakes hurt.”

He held up one front pastern in front of them, covered in the little hairless black nicks and lines of old scars. He had their attention now, and decided he'd probably made his point. “So, how about we go and see if we can find something for you fillies to work on?” he asked with a smile.

He led the little troupe inside and over to a work bench farthest away from the machinery. He thought for a second, then started to pull down some basic tools and a few scraps of wood.

“Now, can anypony tell me the difference between a softwood and a hardwood?” he asked, tapping some examples as he spoke.

“Yeah, one's soft and the other's hard,” said Scootaloo.

The other two fillies rolled their eyes, but he had to laugh. “Believe it or not, that's not always the case, but that's not quite the answer I was looking for.”

“They're from different types of trees. The softwoods are usually conifers, and they're easier to work with, usually 'cause the fibres aren't as dense, but the hardwoods tend to be more long-lasting an' come from fruiting trees, like apples.”

He looked at Apple Bloom in barely-concealed shock; the little filly really knew her stuff! “That's right.”

Scootaloo let out a badly-concealed sigh, and he tried not to smile.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to make you memorise the characteristics of every tree in existence, I just want to cover a few basic principles so you understand how and why things are done the way they are.”

He kept it brief and simple, and Apple Bloom answered nearly all his questions with great enthusiasm, even adding a few of her own. Sweetie Belle did her best to keep up, but the little Pegasus filly gave up and let it wash over her. He made a note to keep an eye on her when they got started.

“Now, how about I let you loose on something and we'll see how you go?” He pulled out the skeleton of a chair, just the seat and legs sitting on a pair of unfinished rockers.

“That's a rockin' chair, just like my Granny's!” said Apple Bloom brightly.

How right you are, thought Silver. In fact, Mac had been saving his bits and asked Silver to build Granny Smith a new rocking chair so they didn't have to cart her old one around all the time. Hopefully it would give the little filly a buzz to realise that she'd helped make something for her Granny.

He set them to work with spoke shaves, showing them how to turn the rough-split elm battens into the spindles that he would use to form the back of the chair. He quickly left Apple Bloom to help Sweetie Belle and concentrated on getting Scootaloo involved, but she simply didn't seem to have much idea about working with her hooves.

“You feel the change when you hit that spot, there?”

“Well... kind of?” she said hopefully.

“That's just the remains of the knot, there. If you pull too hard, you might dig in, or tear the knot out. Take your time; patience is one of the most important things. If you try to remove too much wood too quickly, that's when things go wrong. How are you two doing over there?”

“Great!” chirped Apple Bloom, “I got a couple done already, and Sweetie's getting the hang of it, too.”

To his surprise, Apple Bloom had produced a very passable tapered spindle. Sweetie Belle's was rather a lot more wobbly and uneven, but he could rescue that later.

“Great job, you two! Have you done any of this before?”

“Apple Bloom has, you should see the job she did on our clubhouse,” said Sweetie Belle proudly, making her friend drop her head and shuffle her hooves embarrassedly. A suspicion began to form in Silver's mind, but after a moment he dismissed it. Nah, what are the chances?

“Well, keep up the good work. Tell you what, Scootaloo, how about you help me cut some arms?”

The change of task helped a little as they roughed out one arm together, but he could see that Scootaloo was rapidly losing heart. Perhaps that was as much as he could expect from them at their age. A sudden flash of inspiration struck.

“I think you've done really well with the spindles there, girls.” He plucked one of the better ones and, after a few quick strokes of a knife at the bottom to get it to size, slotted it into one of the holes drilled in the back of the seat. “What I've got to do next is fit all these spindles, then trim them to length and mould a big strip to make up the frame for the back. What I'd like you to do next is to sign the parts that you've made. I've got some pens here, somewhere.”

“Sign them?” Sweetie Belle asked, mystified.

“Yeah, sign your name to show you made them,” said Silver, rummaging in an old mug full of pencils, pens, and markers.

“Huh, I don't know if the owner's going to be too pleased to see our names plastered all over their new chair,” said Apple Bloom doubtfully.

“I don't know if I want to admit to any of this,” added Scootaloo, reluctantly accepting a marker.

Silver grinned, making a note to be there when Mac presented the chair to Granny Smith. “I think you might be surprised.”

The three fillies quickly set to work, scribbling their names carefully on their work. He was gathering up some of the tools they had used when Apple Bloom came up to him.

“Uh, Mr. Braise?”

“Yes, Apple Bloom?”

“Could I have a go at making one of them there arm things?” she asked tentatively.

“Sure, why not? Sweetie Belle, do you want to have a go?”

“No thanks. I'd like to try sawing something, though. Just some scrap or something, to see what it's like.”

“OK, no problem. Scootaloo?”

“Uh, I think I'll just watch.”

He set up a block of old pine in a vice for Sweetie Belle and passed her a small saw, marking a line across the wood and down the front face with a square, and then showed her how to grip and use the saw effectively. Once she'd got started, he kept one eye on her as he traced a pattern for Apple Bloom to follow and set her up with her own saw.

“Remember, nice smooth strokes, don't try to force it.”

Apple Bloom was going like a master when he looked up and saw Sweetie Belle, about a third of the way down her block and in the middle of a knot, trying to tug her saw free. He was taking a breath to speak when she braced a front hoof against the bench and gave a final, powerful heave. The blade shot loose, sending her tumbling back against the wall with a loud clatter.

He was already moving when he heard the first sharp cracks of ancient, dry rot-filled wood giving way.

Sweetie had barely bounced to a halt, disoriented and winded, when a large hoof slammed down next to her head and a heavy shove sent her tumbling across the room. She heard a welter of heavy crashes, wood rending and slamming together, along with the clash of metal on metal. Stunned, she lay on her back as the sounds died away bar some heavy breathing.

“Sweetie, are you OK?” she heard Mr. Braise ask in a tight, controlled voice. “Sweetie Belle?!”

“Ohmygosh, Sweetie, are you OK?” Apple Bloom skidded to a halt above her, looking terrified.

She could feel the tears welling up, and her voice shook despite her best efforts. “I'm OK. I'm OK, I'm s-s-sorry, Mr. Braise.”

She heard a loud sigh from Mr. Braise as she rolled over and got to her shaking hooves. Scoots was there, propping her up on one side, and Apple Bloom quickly took the other.

“It's OK, Sweetie, it's not your fault. It's just that this old building is a bit wobbly in places.”

Something was wrong. Mr. Braise remained half-facing the wall, his hoof still planted amidst the pile of debris.

“I'm sorry!” she wailed, unable to stop her tears despite her friends' support.

“Don't worry about it. Now, I think it's time that you fillies were heading home, don't you?”

“I wasn't fooling around, I promise,” she sobbed.

“I know, Sweetie, it was an accident. These things happen sometimes, but it's getting late and I'm sure you're all supposed to be home by now.”

She stumbled out in a trance while her friends muttered their thanks and apologies. By the time they reached the main driveway, she had enough control of herself to stop and wipe her cheeks with the back of her hoof.

“You OK, Sweetie?” Scootaloo was looking at her with big, worried eyes, and uncharacteristically there was no trace of mockery in her voice. “That was... not cool.”

For a moment, Sweetie almost thought she was going to say 'scary', but Scootaloo wasn't scared of anything, no matter how much they might tease her sometimes.

“Yeah. I thought you was a goner 'till Mr. Braise saved you,” said Apple Bloom in a shaky voice.

“He saved me?” she asked stupidly, still not quite sure how or what had happened.

“When you hit the wall, something broke an' a whole bunch of stuff started falling. Mr. Braise pushed you out of the way and kept stuff from hitting you. I was plumb terrified 'till you started moving again,” she added in a near-whisper.

Sweetie sniffed loudly and gave her friends a big, shaky grin. “OK, so maybe not our most successful crusade ever?”

“That was lame,” Scootaloo agreed.

“Well, I liked it,” said Apple Bloom softly. “Uh, girls? Did you think Mr. Braise was OK when we left?” she added, after a pause.

“He was fine, even if he was a bit grumpy,” said Scootaloo dismissively.

Sweetie Belle thought back. Why hadn't he faced them when he was speaking to them? He didn't sound angry, or at least, not that angry. “I don't know,” she said slowly.

“Well, he was right about one thing; we ought to be heading home,” said Scootaloo, turning away but remaining close to Sweetie Belle's side.

She could see Apple Bloom still thinking. “Apple Bloom?”

“You guys go ahead. I just want to check on him, make sure he's all right,” said Apple Bloom.

“Of course he is, he's a big pony, remember?” said Scootaloo.

“You'll be all right?” Sweetie Belle asked, ignoring her friend’s impatient tone.

“Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Assuming we're not grounded,” muttered Scootaloo. “Come on, let's go.”

She watched Apple Bloom turn and disappear back up the little path towards the workshop before setting off for Ponyville, with Scoots close by her side.

Twilight's studies had not been going well; it was now four days since the Princess' letter and there was still no news. She found herself increasingly easily distracted, and having caught herself staring out of her study window once again, gave up and made her way upstairs to the highest balcony in the library. Rainbow Dash had snared a passing cloud earlier and brought it down to float just above the library, making a perfect recliner for her to bask in the late-afternoon sun. Fluttershy had joined her, and had just rolled over to hang her front hooves over the edge so she could talk to Twilight when Spike crashed breathlessly through the door behind her.

“Twilight! Urgent message!” he panted, waving a scroll at her.

She took it from his grasp with her magic, breaking the seal as she asked, “Are you OK, Spike?”

“Yeah, just dandy. What are you doing up here, anyway? It's like you're back in your tower in Canterlot?” he asked, but his question drifted past Twilight, whose eyes were widening as they ran down the parchment.

“Fluttershy, get Rainbow, right now! Everypony, listen to this:”

Dear Twilight,

It is as I had feared. I now know what the creature is and how it may be found, and although its nature seems greatly changed from what Luna and I remember, the risk to my little ponies around Ponyville can only be described as extreme. I must urge you to tell everypony to remain safely indoors until the creature has been dealt with.

I am dispatching the Royal Guard to Ponyville immediately. They will require a large open area to assemble, preferably close to the Everfree Forest. I would be grateful if you could send up some sort of beacon to guide them. Luna and I must prepare ourselves, and we will follow as soon as possible.

~C.

Twilight looked up at them with horrified eyes. Fluttershy was hiding behind the long curtain of her mane, and even Rainbow Dash looked worried. Twilight swallowed, trying to force some moisture back into her suddenly-dry mouth.

“Spike, take this to the Mayor immediately; we've got to get everypony to safety! Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, start spreading the word; get everypony inside and tell them to lock their doors and stay there until they hear otherwise.” Spike saluted her sharply and grabbed the scroll back, furling it in his paws as he plunged downstairs, while the two Pegasi leapt to their hooves.

“We're on it,” said Rainbow grimly, “But what about you?”

“Open space, open space... I've got to get to Sweet Apple Acres!” Twilight paced on the little balcony, trying to think, barely aware of it swaying under her weight.

“But it'll take you ages! I could try to carry you?” suggested Rainbow Dash.

Twilight shook her head firmly. “No need.”

She closed her eyes firmly and, with a blinding burst of light, she was gone.

Applejack was just leaning out of the barn window to holler to Big Mac when Twilight appeared in front of her with an eyeball-searing flash. She jumped, banging her head on the sill, and slithered back inside, cursing. She trotted to the door, shaking her head, and was nearly ploughed over by Twilight, who was galloping the other way with a look of panic on her face.

“Whoa! Slow down, Sally! What's with all the rush?”

“The Princess is back,” Twilight blurted breathlessly.

“Oh! Uh, great,” said Applejack.

“The Princess is back!” Twilight repeated, almost hopping with frustration.

Applejack blinked, sure she was missing something. “OK, sugar cube, deep breath now, and give it to me from the top.”

Twilight explained, the words tumbling out of her like a waterfall. “I need somewhere to put the Royal Guard, and you're the only pony who can help,” she finished in a rush.

“Well, uh, there's the field nearest the gate, that's ploughed and planted, but nothing's come up yet-”

“Great! That'll do! Now, you need to make sure that your family is all indoors. We can't afford to take any chances.”

“Right you are, Twi,” said Applejack. She trotted over to the dinner gong and began ringing it furiously. “Mac! Apple Bloom! Get yerselves over here, right now!” she hollered.

Big Macintosh appeared seconds later, still hitched to a cart. “What's up, sis?”

“Y'all need to get yerself inside. The Princess is coming to deal to that there monster, and I need you to make sure Granny and Apple Bloom are safe,” said Applejack firmly.

Macintosh's reply cut her heart out, “Say, where is Apple Bloom?”

Applejack just stared at him, stunned. “You ain't seen her? Oh. Oh, Celestia! Twi, I gotta find her!”

“Show me this field first,” insisted Twilight.

“What's going on?” Macintosh asked, a trace of worry creeping into his usually placid voice.

“Mac, get inside an' stay there!” Applejack barked, already cantering towards the front of the farm. Twilight followed in her wake.

Applejack paused briefly when they reached the front gate, “They can use that field, there,” she said, pointing. “Twi, I gotta go find Apple Bloom!”

“She's probably with her friends,” Twilight said in a soothing tone.

“Probably ain't good enough! Look, you do what you gotta do, but I'm going to find my sister!”

With that, she rammed her hat down firmly on her head and set off at a tearing gallop through the apple trees.

Her old clubhouse was looking trim and lived-in, but there was no sign of Apple Bloom or her friends. Cursing her luck, she made her way east to the Carousel Boutique in the hope that she would be with Sweetie Belle, but Rarity hadn't seen her little sister or Apple Bloom since school finished. In some ways, it was reassuring, as Apple Bloom was almost certainly with her friends, but given their propensity for finding trouble...

She galloped on, finding Cheerilee at the school just in the process of locking up. “Yes, she left straight after class with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, as usual. I've no idea where they were going,” said the teacher, picking up on Applejack's concern immediately. “Applejack, what's wrong?” she asked, but the farm pony was already leaving, swearing viciously under her breath as she ran.

The problem was, not only were Ponyville's normally bustling streets deserted, she was reduced to knocking on doors and few ponies would answer. Just when she was giving up hope, an old stallion gave her some priceless information through his letter slot.

“Your sister? Yes, I saw her. She was on the bridge, heading east with her friends.”

A cold chill crept over her. East out of Ponyville; there were only two places there that they could have been going, and she'd bet the farm on one of them. She could only hope that she and Twilight hadn't made a terrible, terrible misjudgement.

She paused cautiously by the door, wondering again if this was a good idea. Inside, she heard a pained grunt and a gasp, followed by a string of words she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to know in a high-pitched, strangled voice.

She tapped cautiously at the door, and walked right in. “Mr. Braise?”

His head whipped around to look at her, and she stopped dead as he spat a long sliver of something onto the floor, his muzzle reddened. Blood was pouring down one of his front legs, thick and red. She swallowed a sudden urge to be sick. “I... I thought I should check you're OK. You don't look so good,” she said, her voice wavering uncertainly.

He gave her a wan, unconvincing smile. “I'll be all right. It's just a bit of a cut.”

She took a pace closer. The cut was long and jagged, spilling blood in a steady stream to pool around his hoof. “T'ain't no little thing, Mr. Braise, that's bad an' deep, an' it needs a bandage at the very least. Ain't you got no first aid kit, here?”

“I'm a little short on first aid kits, Apple Bloom,” he admitted. He gave her a considering look, then asked, “I could do with cleaning this out a bit. Could you go and get me a bucket of water from the back? Please?”

“Sure thing.” She darted outside, half-glad to get away from the awful sight and the coppery smell of blood. She found a pail next to the pump, and a few wheezing strokes later it was half-full with water. She gripped the handle carefully in her teeth and carried it reluctantly back inside.

“Thanks,” he said, with a jovial wink completely out of place with the scene. Maybe he was trying to reassure her, but it wasn't working. She'd never seen so much blood, and would be quite happy to never see it again. There goes a nursing cutie mark, she thought crazily. Oh, don't think about it. Really don't! Ew, that's just gross!

He took the bucket from her, pouring it steadily down his shoulder and leg. Despite his grip on the handle, she could see his jaw clamp tight against the pain as water pooled redly on the earthen floor. Casting about, she saw a linen napkin on the floor and snatched it up, shaking the dust off. Carefully, she folded it lengthways and trotted over to press it against the wound. Red seeped through almost immediately, staining the white napkin darkly. It was too small to take in the whole length of the cut, but it was better than nothing. He leaned over against her hoof pressure, letting out a shuddering gasp. “Yeah, keep that there,” he forced out through gritted teeth.

It was hopeless. She fought an urge to give up and cry helplessly, casting about for something or somepony to help her, but the workshop was bare. A thought struck her, shocking in its simplicity.

“You hold that there for a minute, Mr. Braise,” she said. She tilted her head and wormed her bow off, pulling the knot free and unwinding it. It would never go around his shoulders, even assuming she could reach, but perhaps it would work on his leg.

She wrapped one end around his leg and tied it across the bandage. “Tighter,” he grunted, gasping for breath as she wrapped the end around his leg again and pulled as hard as she dared. She dodged between his legs, the ribbon clutched in her teeth, wrapping it around him again and again, keeping a firm tension on it that drew little snorting grunts of pain from the carpenter. Finally, with only a small length left, she tied it off, again pulling it as tight as she dared. He was panting heavily as she finished, and she could see sweat darkening his coat.

“Thanks, Apple Bloom, you've done a great job,” he said. How his voice was so kind and so even was a mystery to her.

“It ain't brilliant, but it'll have to do. You need to get yourself to the hospital right quick, Mr. Braise.”

“I dare say you're right,” he said, “I'll be off there straight away, but you need to get yourself home, Apple Bloom.”

“But you're hurt-” she protested, but he cut her off.

“And I'm going to be fine, but your sister will be worried about you. Go on, Apple Bloom, you can come back and see me some other time. Maybe we can find some more stuff for you to do? You're quite talented, you know.”

“Uh, that'd be great,” she said uncertainly, casting a half-longing look at the door and freedom. The longer she stayed, the more the awful weight of responsibility settled on her slim shoulders.

He limped a pace towards the door, more of a three-legged hop than anything, indicating with his head that she should go.

Reluctantly, she trotted to the door and hesitated for a moment, “If you're sure?”

“I'm sure. Good night, Apple Bloom,” he said firmly, the smile on his face belying the agony she knew he must have been feeling.

Feeling shaky and sick, she turned away and started to gallop for the farm. Resolve formed in her head as she ran; she would tell her sister. Applejack would know what to do.

Silver watched the little filly go with a sigh of relief. She was a brave one, that was for sure, but she shouldn't have to deal with anything like this, not at her age. With a little moan of agony, Silver took a couple of hopping steps over to the door. It would take him ages to get into town. Even if he could make it to the bridge, he couldn't be sure that anypony would help him. Heh, maybe they'll think it was the monster, and I was harmless all along, he thought wildly. It seemed unaccountably funny, drawing a pained chuckle from him.

Casting a look back at the pile of wreckage, he silently cursed himself again for not recognising the danger before. It was a dilapidated old building with many faults and weak points, but he hadn't realised the extent of the dry rot on that side or he would have kept well away from it, or at least unloaded the shelves. Careless, careless, careless! As it was, as soon as one thing went, the whole lot came down, and it was only a miracle that had prevented Sweetie Belle from copping the lot.

A small hatchet lay on the ground in front of him, its handle touching one of the spreading pools of blood-tinged water. Automatically, he bent to pick it up. No point letting it get rusty, he thought to himself.

Just as he looked around for the nearest bench to leave it on, he heard heavy hoofbeats approaching hurriedly. Thank Celestia! Help at last.

Summer looked anxiously around her salon and checked the clock for the hundredth time. She had flipped the sign to 'closed' about half an hour ago, and spent some time sweeping up and replenishing bottles. She had set one pair of clippers aside for Silver to have a look at later, but there was no sign of him. Today, of all days, she thought anxiously. Huh, probably just lost track of time, as usual.

Since her window had been defaced she had been staying out at the workshop, and he had walked her to and from the salon each day. Just like being back at school, she thought wryly. Although she was pretty sure it was safe, he had still insisted, 'For my peace of mind, more than anything,' he had said. And while she wouldn't admit it, she did feel safer with Silver trotting along at her shoulder. She felt a fond smile creep over her face. The big jerk must be sick of looking out for me, all these years.

Perhaps he had heard the news, the same as she did. She shook her head in wonder, remembering the little busy-body from number 17 telling her, without a trace of irony, that she needed to stay indoors because the Princess was coming to deal with the monster in the forest. Summer knew full well that he had been an avid gossiper, and that not an hour before he would have been insisting that there was no monster, and that it was all her and Silver.

Hypocrites.

The clock ticked on, and the street remained entirely deserted. Reluctantly, she turned the key in the lock and trotted upstairs to her little room. Perhaps somepony had been and warned him, too, and he was anxiously locked up in the workshop worrying about her. Perhaps. It seemed a long way out of anypony's way, though.

She sat on her bed and pressed her nose against the window, keeping watch.

Her hooves tore up small clumps of the moist soil, galloping as hard as she could go towards the Berry farm with her breath burning in her throat. Up the driveway, now, and she swerved off onto the little path that led to his workshop. She hit his door like a hurricane, the words already tumbling out.

“Silver, have you seen my sis...”

The last word trailed away to silence as the unmitigated horror of the scene sank in on her. He was standing close by the door, a tomahawk clutched in his teeth, and the sun streaming through the opened shutters shone brightly on the blood soaking his chest and shoulders. Pools of red lay all over the earthen floor, staining it darkly, but worst of all – worst of all – a familiar pink ribbon was tied haphazardly around one of his legs.

A very familiar ribbon. One that she must have tied a thousand times. Her world shattered, leaving only a single thought in her mind.

“Apple Bloom?” she whispered in disbelief, almost a prayer that her eyes were deceiving her.

The tomahawk fell to the ground at his hooves with a heavy thump. “Hey, Applejack,” he said, his voice at once tired and, strangely, full of relief.

She blinked, but the scene refused to change. It was burned into her retinas, an irremovable stain that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “Apple Bloom? Apple Bloom?!” Her voice rose to a shriek, “What have you done with my sister?!”

“Whoa, take it easy, Applejack-” he started to say, but her front hooves had already planted themselves as she powered her hind legs through the strongest buck she'd ever delivered in her life.

She felt the smooth, heavy shock through her hindquarters, and pinwheeled back around in time to see him crash to the floor amidst his machinery, his head striking the base of one of them with a sickening crack. The next thing she knew, she was poised over him on her hind legs, her mind a howling vortex of rage and pain and sheer, visceral hate-

No.

Later, she would wonder at the little voice which somehow rose up from the core of her being to stop her plunging her front hooves down on his unprotected head and ending his miserable, worthless life. She sank back onto all fours shaking like a leaf in a storm, tears pouring down her cheeks. He lay stunned before her, mouth hanging slackly and his eyelids fluttering slowly, unseeing.

Gradually, she roused herself to look around the workshop. In one corner was a large pile of debris; wooden boards, blocks and fragments jumbled together with tools, tins, and old farm implements. Above it, fresh-looking scars showed on the wooden walls where shelves had broken away and the roof slumped dangerously. She stumbled over on rubbery legs and prodded around, but found only blood; no little filly lay buried there. The first tendrils of doubt began to snake into her mind.

A bucket lay upturned on the floor nearby. She snatched it up and darted outside, looking for a tap or a well. After all, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She found a pump under the back eaves and filled the vessel, heedless of the water slopping out as she trotted back inside. He was just starting to stir when she dumped the half the contents over his head, making him choke and splutter. She leaned down close to him.

“Where's my sister, Silver? Where's Apple Bloom?”

He blinked slowly, his eye still dull. “Apple Bloom?” he repeated indistinctly.

“Yeah, Apple Bloom!” She slapped his cheek, none too gently. “Where is she? Come on, Silver!”

“Went home,” he muttered. “There was an accident.”

“She went home? Apple Bloom went home?” she demanded, but he didn't reply. “Come on, Silver, please!” she pleaded through tears of sudden hope. She raised the bucket and dashed the remainder over his face, hurling it away carelessly behind her. “Silver, focus! Please!”

His head jerked back and his face twisted in pain, his eyes screwed shut. He was breathing in short, irregular snorts, but it was working; he already seemed more alert.

“Where's Apple Bloom?” she repeated slowly.

“Gone. Went home. Help me!” he panted through gritted teeth.

“When did she go home?”

“Uh... Uh, I don't know.”

Stupid question! she berated herself. “How did you get that ribbon?”

“She gave it to me. There was an accident. Applejack!”

She shook her head in frustration, and glanced down. There was no way her sister would give up her favourite mane ribbon, but...

He was lying on his side, the ribbon wrapped around the front leg currently pressed against the ground, but it also bound a dirty, blood-stained piece of cloth tightly to him. She felt in incredible surge of relief and elation and... hope.

“She went home?” Applejack repeated again, desperate to hear him say the words. He didn't look capable of lying, not now.

“Yes! She tried to help me, but I sent her away. I sent her home.”

He shifted awkwardly, and a low moan escaped his lips. She was torn. He looked like he was telling the truth, but maybe he was just trying to get her out of the way? She wrestled with herself for a moment, then stood.

“Applejack!”

“I'm going home, Silver,” she said in a shaking voice, “I'm going to find my sister, and she better be there. If you been lying to me...” she trailed off, unable to contemplate the thought now that hope had returned. “If she ain't there waiting for me, I'm gonna be coming back, y'hear? I'll be headin' up a posse, an' we'll burn your shack down around your damn ears, y'hear me?”

With that, she turned and galloped for the door, her heart bursting with hope and terror as she sprinted for Sweet Apple Acres as fast as her legs could carry her.

Twilight ground her teeth and intensified the wide beam of purple light lancing into the evening sky from her horn. A dark cloud had risen over Canterlot nearly half an hour before, and by now she could see the distant glint of the sun on gilt armour. She tilted her head, pointing the beam at the approaching guardsponies to get their attention, and tried to ignore the faint tremors in her legs. Teleporting so far took quite a bit of magic, and here she was, burning more of it without allowing her body time to recover. Time for that later, she thought.

By the time the first chariots touched down, she was grateful to let her horn fizzle out. Each chariot disgorged a pair of fully-armoured guards while their Pegasus companions quickly unhitched and shunted their vehicles into neat ranks to one side, allowing more and more to land. Twilight's heart leapt to see a familiar figure step down from one of the chariots. “Shiny!” she called, cantering over to him.

He gave her a warm smile, “Hey, Twily, I should have known you'd be here, somewhere.”

“What's going on? Where's the Princess?” she demanded.

Shining Armour gave her a strange look. “You don't know? Never mind, I don't have time to explain. The Princesses are on their way – both of them.” He stepped away and raised his voice commandingly, “Second Destriers, form rank! Lieutenant Thunder, take Charlie Company, Fourth Cavalry and give us a screen between here and the trees! First Airborne, get those chariots away to the left and then I want some scouts up there!”

Twilight left him to it as guards swarmed to fulfil his orders. Shining Armour had a deadly-serious job to do, and she wasn't helping. She slipped away to the farm's main gate, and saw a small cloud of dust approaching with a familiar Earth pony at its head. Applejack didn't slow down, but blew straight past her, her face fixed grimly on the house.

Applejack pounded up the steps and burst through the kitchen door. “Apple Bloom? Apple Bloom?!”

“What's the ruckus, sis?” Macintosh emerged into the hall and there, peeking around the kitchen door behind him, was a little yellow filly, her red mane swinging free over her shoulder.

“Apple Bloom!” she gasped, skidding across the floor to sweep her up in a crushing hug, “Apple Bloom, you're OK!”

“'Jack?” Big Mac asked uncertainly.

She could feel her little sister starting to shake, no doubt picking up on her distress and feeling the tears of Applejack's overwhelming relief running down her back, but she couldn't bring herself to let go. To hold that sweet little filly again when she'd thought her sister was gone forever...

After a long moment, she managed to release her grip and crouched in front of her so she could look her in the eyes. “What happened, 'Bloom?” she asked softly, “Where have you been?”

Apple Bloom started to cry, tears more of fear and anxiety than any hurt, “Me an' Sweetie an' Scoots went to see Mr. Braise after school. He was teachin' us stuff so we might get our cutie marks, but there was an accident. Sweetie Belle slipped and a whole bunch o' stuff fell off the wall, an' Mr. Braise saved her but he got a cut on his leg, a real bad one. He tried to make us go but I went back to help him. I tried to bandage him up, but he's hurt real bad, sis! He needs somepony to get him to the hospital. I jus' got back here, lookin' for ya!”

Applejack stroked her sister's mane, comforting her absently as the full horror of what she had done crashed in on her. Cutie marks. She should have known.

Oh. Oh, no.

She had completely lost it when she saw those little bloodstained hoof-prints. She had bucked him halfway across the room without even thinking, and then she'd, she'd...

Her mind baulked, refusing to consider what she'd done.

“Sis, are you OK? Everything's gonna be all right, ain't it?”

Apple Bloom's small, terrified voice was like a dagger in her heart.

“'Jack, what's going on?” asked Mac, now seriously worried.

She stood up, dragging a hoof across her face and sniffing loudly. “Mac... Mac, I think I done something a might hasty. Stay here an' look after Apple Bloom an' Granny. I gotta go.”

“”Come on, Applejack!” Macintosh demanded, reaching a hoof out for her, “What is it? Maybe I can help-”

“Damn it, Mac, stay here!”

With that, she whirled and darted outside. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she realised just how tired she was. She had been running at a full gallop right around Ponyville and her legs were starting to rebel at the effort, but she gritted her teeth and stumbled back up the drive. This was no time to be letting nopony down, not after what she had done.

Twilight saw Applejack lurch away from the house and stagger up the driveway, tears still running down her face. Worried, she called her name and the farm pony stopped to face her, anguish etched on her face amidst the tears.

“Applejack, what's wrong? Is Apple Bloom all right?”

Applejack let out a bitter, drunken laugh. “Oh yeah, she's fine. She's just dandy, an' meanwhile, I think I just killed a completely innocent pony!”

“You what?!” Twilight gasped, but there was no time for further explanation. She turned at the sound of the thunder of mighty wings in time to see the Alicorn princesses land just beside them. The ground shook under the combined salute of five hundred guardsponies, and Twilight quickly bowed deeply. Behind her, Applejack collapsed into more of an exhausted heap than a curtsey.

She saw their regal eyes light on her, and flinched. This was not warm, maternal, loving Celestia, or stern, haughty, yet playful Luna, this was the eternal Goddesses of Sun and Moon in all their glory. Celestia's coat glowed a burning white, Luna's an ethereal blue. Their manes, normally gently flowing fields of the aurora instead whipped and crackled in an unseen galactic hurricane, their eyes brimming white with unimaginable power. They were beautiful, awe-inspiring, and utterly terrifying.

“GREETINGS, TWILIGHT!” thundered Princess Celestia.

“HAIL AND WELL MET, TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” added Princess Luna, but Twilight was rolling on the ground in agony, clutching her abused ears in her hooves. Their voices made the Royal Canterlot Voice sound like a genteel whisper. Distantly, she felt, rather than heard, a gentle pop, and suddenly their voices were bearable, although the ground still shook from their power. Trembling, she clambered to her hooves, and saw Shining Armour give her a grin and a little wave. The magic must have been his.

“Princess Celestia, Princess Luna,” she greeted them in a shaking voice.

“WE THANK THEE FOR THY GUIDE, TWILIGHT SPARKLE, BUT TIME GROWS SHORT, AND WE MUST AWAY!” boomed Princess Luna.

“What is it, Princess? What is the creature?” Twilight asked urgently. After all these weeks, she had to know what she'd laboured so hard to find.

“WE SHALL EXPLAIN SOME OTHER TIME, TWILIGHT. FOR NOW, IT IS A CREATURE WE HAVE NOT SEEN FOR MANY THOUSANDS OF YEARS,” Princess Celestia explained gently, although her voice still rang form the heavens.

“Do you need me? And the Elements?” Twilight asked, feeling ridiculous for saying it in front of such divinely powerful creatures. Princess Luna laughed, rolling thunder from horizon to horizon.

“NAY, TWILIGHT SPARKLE! 'TIS BUT A MINOR MATTER, AND DOES NOT REQUIRE THE POWER OF THE ELEMENTS.”

Right. Five hundred guards and two immortal goddesses at the height of their powers was a minor matter. It was like swatting a fruit fly with a fully-grown dragon.

“CAPTAIN, YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS,” said Princess Celestia serenely.

Shining Armour bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Highness!” He took a deep breath, drawing himself up to his full height. “Battalion, take post!” he roared, a puny thing next to his rulers. Around him, the guards scurried into position with the sign of much practice. He watched impassively until the last guardspony was in place and motionless. “At the signal, Battalion shall advance!”

He fixed his eyes on the Princesses and, after a moment, Princess Celestia's neck bobbed gracefully.

“Advance!”

Twilight watched them go with a certain awe, the gleaming, serried ranks sweeping forwards through the trees with the two Princesses side-by-side at the heart of the formation and a cloud of Pegasus scouts hovering overhead. She heard a groan behind her, and Applejack's words before they were interrupted sprang to mind. She hurdled the fence and crouched by the exhausted farm pony.

“Applejack! What were you saying? What have you done?”

She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice, but knew that she had failed as her friend flinched. Icy fingers gripped her heart as Applejack explained in a halting voice.

“I gotta get back there, Twi. I gotta help him, I just gotta!” she concluded, sobbing.

Twilight swallowed. “There's no time. Go to your family, Applejack.”

“But-”

“Don't worry, I'll take care of it,” she said firmly, “You're in no condition to go anywhere.”

“Hurry, Twi!” Applejack begged her.

“I'm already there,” said Twilight. She summoned up the remains of her magic and vanished with a loud, metallic pop.

She swayed unsteadily as her legs touched down on Silver's porch, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over her, but she shook her head and trotted inside. This is no time for weakness, she thought to herself, but her hooves faltered as she saw the mess inside.

Dark patches stained the floor, and the air was thick with the smell of drying blood. Amidst it all stood a tall, wiry grey pony braced on three legs, the other crudely bandaged and dangling loose. His chest and shoulders were stained almost black, and a trickle of blood ran down between his eyes as he glared blearily in her direction.

“Silver!” she gasped, starting forward towards him, but his words made her halt in shock.

“So, come to burn me out, have you?” he demanded coldly.

“What? No! Silver, there's been a terrible misunderstanding! Please, let me help you.” So much blood. How was it possible for a pony to have so much blood in them?

“Stay back!” he barked nervously. His legs wobbled but he rallied and pulled himself up, standing tall once again. “Then they've sent you to lure me out, instead. Why, Twilight? What have I done?”

Twilight's heart twisted painfully at his pain and bewilderment. “Silver, please, I'm begging you! There's nopony here except me. Apple Bloom is safe, she's with her sister and brother at Sweet Apple Acres.”

She essayed a step towards him, but he shuffled an awkward hop backwards and his legs nearly buckled completely, the strangled remains of a shriek of agony leaking slowly past his gritted teeth. He panted heavily, his nose almost touching the floor as a fresh red trickle broke loose from under the bandage and wound its way down his damaged leg.

“No! Silver, don't, please don't,” she begged, her own cheeks wet now. “Applejack found me. She made a terrible, terrible mistake. Silver, if you've ever trusted me before, trust me now.”

“Why should I? You've lied to me all along, haven't you? I never understood why?”

Twilight was weeping openly now. “No! Silver, I have never wanted to deceive you. I chose to obey my Princess instead of doing what was right. Blame me, hate me if you must, but please, let me help you. Please!”

His head drooped and he blinked the sweat out of his eyes. He was shaking badly now, and she tried another step forward. He didn't move, so she took another, and then another, and then she was alongside him, looking for a way of propping him up without touching his damaged leg.

“Oh Silver, are you all right?” What a stupid, boneheaded question! Bottom of the class, Miss Sparkle!

He let out a nervous, drunken laugh. “Hmm, stings a bit,” he said in a high-pitched, strangled voice.

She let out a strange half-sob, half-laugh. It was the sort of thing that only he could come out with! She wound her magic around his body, gritting her teeth at the agonising burn in her horn and trying to take the weight off his shaking hooves for a second, but she quickly recognised it was hopeless. There was no way she could possibly get him to the hospital like this, and he was literally on his last legs. She eased him back down and looked him right in the eye.

“Silver? Just hang in there. I'm going to try something, and I need you to trust me. Now, this might feel a little strange...”

She reappeared in the hospital foyer in an untidy thunderclap of noise and burnt hair. Darkness swept over her like a tidal wave, her legs wobbling like a newborn foal on ice and her head a mass of blinding agony. Beside her, she heard an awful, boneless slap, and slewed her head drunkenly around to see Silver lying in a heap on the polished linoleum, his grey eye slowly drifting closed. No. No! No, no, no, no...

She managed to fill her lungs. “Help me!” she screamed, her voice cutting through her abused ears like razors, “Somepony help-”

Her voice broke on the last word.

The floor was rushing up to meet her.