Through the Aurora

by Starscribe

First published 8th of April, 2019

Theo knew arctic research was dangerous. He didn't know those dangers involved getting sucked into other worlds, changing into a bird, and having to somehow find a way home. Turns out it was more dangerous than he thought.

Theodor Pichler knew joining the Barrow Observatory's winter crew would be a difficult position. He thought he knew the danger--freezing temperatures, gale-force winds, and terribly spotty broadband coverage. What he didn't expect was for an experimental new telescope array to interact with an unusual storm and send him screaming helplessly into the sky.

Instead of falling to his death, Theo landed in an alien world, populated by colorful horses he can't understand. What's worse: the body he landed in isn't his own, and he's not sure anything is where it should be. Having wings might be cool if he didn't have to be naked all the time...

With limited supplies and no help from the Observatory, Theo has to somehow navigate this new land, making new friends and encountering terrible dangers along the way. It will take all his cleverness, and a healthy dose of luck, if he's ever to be human again.

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This story was a commission for Lucky Ray on my Patreon. Feel free to PM me if you'd like one of your own. It was edited by Two Bit and Sparktail. Coverart by FoxHatArt. Where chapters have art, it was done by Jasper.

Updates Sundays

Zutcha was here too.

Prologue

Five weeks, two days, nine hours until summer crew get here.

So went the mantra in Theo’s head, one he had repeated so many times it was probably burned there.

If summer crew was here, you wouldn’t be able to do this. As usual, he ignored that thought, then thumbed the exterior door activation.

“Hey, Theo,” the voice came over the radio, barking into his earpiece and echoing in the little red plastic airlock a second later. “Computer says you just put through a departure request. You’re going outside?”

Theo shuffled awkwardly in his thick arctic gear, pulling down an orange mask from around his face so Corey would be able to hear him. “Yeah,” he said, gripping the airlock wheel and twisting—without success. “Just got the last of the probes to deploy.” He thumped one hand against the tight bundle beside him, rattling the wires and poles within. “Won’t take me ten minutes.”

“You’re…” Paper rustled from the other side of the radio. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not scheduled for any maintenance runs. Is this another one of your pet projects?”

“Maybe.” He shifted uneasily, gripping the bundle a little tighter to his chest. “Corporate already gave me the approval. It should be on your desk somewhere.”

There was a brief silence. While Corey fished around, Theo leaned forward towards the window, peeking outside. It was round, and just outside the snow continued in a drift that seemed to go on for miles. Most of the other observatory structures were buried at least halfway, with only the proud backbone of Tower 1 slicing through the snow. Above it all, the aurora flickered green and purple, staining the snow.

“Yeah, found it,” Corey muttered, his tone darkening. “There’s a note here… The NOAA joint research committee wishes to remind you that you have been granted approval to access non-reserved property for the purposes of research activities for… Technical University of Graz. Austria, Really?” He cleared his throat. “But that it will not be held liable for personal injury sustained in the process, and any damage you do to our equipment will be subject to… whatever. I think you get the idea.”

“I break it, I buy it,” Theo muttered, twisting on the door again. “Look, could you unlock me already?”

“You’re sitting at a balmy fifteen degrees below zero. Wind twelve kilometers per hour out of the southwest. You’re clear for now, but we’re still on storm watch. Did you look at radar before heading out?”

“Yeah.” Theo banged on the door, even though he knew Corey wouldn’t hear it. “Come on, I’ve already been on shift ten hours. I’ll get this stuff plugged in, then be out.”

From near his hand, a steel bolt slammed back into its receiver. A faint whistle of wind issued in, and cold touched his exposed face. “Thanks.”

“Only looking out for you,” Corey said. “We penguins have to look out for each other. I want a wellness check every ten minutes. If you don’t ping me, I’m going out after you.”

Theo adjusted his mask, then pressed the bright red button near the airlock. His feet shook, along with a roar of compressed air that banged the airlock closed. Outside, the entry tunnel had been almost emptied of snow.

“Here we go,” he muttered, settling his cargo sled down behind him and shoving the airlock open.

Even wearing the latest in arctic survival gear, he felt the chill through his clothes almost the second he stepped outside. But he ignored it—Theo had been serving at Barrow Observatory since the start of last summer shift. Despite how lanky and unimpressive he looked, he could handle a bit of cold.

Theo stepped out, and with his motion the mounted floodlights came on. Even prepared for them, Theo still whimpered, covering his eyes for a second and waiting for them to adjust. The worst part was probably what they did to the aurora, ruining his night vision until all he could see was a green soup in the air, with a few faint splotches of clouds spread out.

The walkways and roads had all been buried by winter snowfall. But that didn’t matter to Theo—he knew where he was going, straight to the hill overlooking the newest addition to Barrow Observatory, located at the highest point for fifty miles around.

A placard proclaiming the “Borealis High-Energy Particle Observation Experiment” was still visible emerging from just above the snowline on Computer Building 2, located feet from the base of Tower 2. Theo slowed a little as he passed the door, thinking longingly of the pleasantly warm servers inside. It was only a ten-minute walk to Tower 2 and already he felt his limbs growing stiff. There’s a reason everyone flies south for the winter.

But he couldn’t go in—his laptop was already in there, quietly chugging away. All that remained now were a few last additions to the sensors.

Theo stopped at the base of the stairs, glancing upward the hundred feet to the top of Tower 2. Patches of ice and snow clung to the steel at various points, making it impossible to see all the way to the dish. The tower shook rhythmically in the wind, rattling his hand against the railing.

Last chance to turn back.

Instead of heading back inside, Theo scooped up his sledge, slipping one arm and then the other through the backpack straps. Then he started to climb.

“Checking… in,” he said over the radio, unable to keep the exertion from his voice. “Everything’s good on my end. Nothing to report.”

Corey responded almost instantly, his voice rushed. “You could report how the hell you got corporate to agree to this. Setting up some 3D-printed crap on their hundred-million-dollar array?”

The steps settled into a rhythm beneath Theo’s boots. One flight, then the next, again and again. “BHE-POE doesn’t come online until summer crew gets here to calibrate the array. University got permission to use a couple of the empty sensor nodes.”

“You can tell me more about it when you get back,” Corey said. “Anything else you need from my end? I’m out of DS9, and I don’t think I’m quite ready for Voyager yet. I could use a time-killer.”

“Nothing,” Theo said. “But keep an eye on the radar. Last I checked, I had four hours before anything got too close. Let me know if that changes.”

“Will do. Corey out.”

Theo rounded the top of the tower another ten minutes later. He hadn’t slipped this time—not like when he’d been up here checking on snow accumulation a few weeks back, and he’d slipped a whole leg through the side of the safety rail.

The top of Tower 2 was an almost perfect parabola, curving upward towards the sky in a grate of unidentifiable metal. No snow or ice had piled on the dish, and for good reason—the entire surface was warm even through his boots—warm enough that the snow couldn’t bury it.

Every meter or so there was an opening in the array, filled with little sensor modules that would sit flush with the dish once settled properly. Theo tossed the backpack down, then yanked on the zipper with a gloved hand. There were half a dozen bits of 3D-printed plastic inside, each one the perfect size to be installed.

By the time Theo was halfway done, the automatic lights had gone off again down on ground level, and his eyes could adjust to the aurora. He didn’t rush it—the wind wasn’t picking up, and the temperature was fine. Besides, the darkness meant he didn’t have to see just how terrifyingly high-up he was. If I slip, that snow won’t be enough to catch me. I’ll be dead and frozen at the same time.

From up here, it seemed like the aurora was even more spectacular. A single green band was joined with purple and faint suggestions of orange. He imagined his ears could make out the invisible crackling of supercharged electrons this detector was meant to observe. But of course, he couldn’t—that was only the wind knocking bits of ice off the tower.

“Hey, Theo. You missed your check, all good?”

“Oh, yeah.” He blinked, looking down at his empty bag. The modules were all in place—except for the one in his hands. He rose from his sitting position against the railing, then crossed towards the center where the last module would be installed. “Sorry, the sky distracted me. You should really get a look at it.”

“Sounds like you’re getting too cold out there,” Corey said, unimpressed. “Stop whatever you’re doing and head back. You can finish whatever you’re up to out there on your next shift.”

“Sure thing,” Theo lied. “I’ll head back right away.”

Instead of that, he dropped to his knees, settling the last module into place with a click.

The change around him was instantaneous. The little red light on all the other modules switched to green, and from his pocket his control PDA vibrated. The program was already starting. No problem, I just need to get down in the next ten minutes. No big deal. But Theo didn’t move right away—he was transfixed with what was happening overhead.

Maybe Corey was right—maybe he had been out in the cold too long. While the Aurora had been properly distant before, it now seemed as though someone had dragged it almost on top of him, with purples and greens blasting directly into his eyes.

“Holy shit, Theo.” Corey’s voice no longer sounded amused. “The resonator is coming online. What the hell did you do?”

“We’re taking observations,” he said, getting to his feet and clinging to the rail. It was all he could do—the light was so bright that he didn’t trust himself to use the stairs yet. He fumbled with a pocket, searching for his sunglasses, but unable to find them.”

“That’s not the half of it,” Corey continued. “There’s some kind of… there’s something on radar. Hell, there’s not even time for you to get back to residence. Just, uh… the computer shed. Get down there and lock yourself in tight. We’re in for a helluva ride.”

“What are you—” Theo began, a second before his cargo sledge was torn right off the dish in front of him and fell upward into the sky. The entire tower started rumbling. Theo gripped the edge of the railing, wrapping one arm all the way around.

Not a second too soon—a blast of wind hit him next, and tore his legs right out from under him. He felt himself lifting into the air, though it was so bright over his head now that he couldn’t see anything. “Something’s got me, Corey!” Theo called, wincing as the steel railing bit into the padded sleeves of his coat. Down poured out from inside, exploding out and around him and outlining the impossible wind upward. For an instant Theo could see it, a clear path leading straight up into the sky. “I can’t… hold on much longer!”

“I’m shutting everything down!” Corey called back, uselessly. As though any system he could switch off would stop the wailing wind. “Just hold tight, Theo! I’ll… I’ll get a message south! It won’t be long! We’ll get help from Barrow. Don’t move!”

Theo felt something give in his arm, and a crack a second later. There was terrible pain, spreading numbness all the way to his shoulder. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

He was falling—falling up into the sky. A mountain of snow and ice fell with him, swirling together and concealing all of Barrow Observatory from view below. He couldn’t make out any of the landing lights, or even the warm glow of the barracks. Theo spun head-over-heels, and between the light and the snow all around, he’d completely lost track of which was up and which down. Not that it matters. I’ll be dead as soon as I find out.

It kept getting brighter. Purple shone around him so brilliantly that he could see it even though firmly-shut eyes. His entire world was swallowed in light.

Chapter 1: Flew Away

Theo woke up, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He could feel the chill all around him, an inviting numbness that was only inches away. All he had to do was lower his head, close his eyes, and he’d never wake up again.

You’re a temperature casualty, his brain thought. You’re freezing to death. If you don’t get moving, you’re dead.

Theo wasn’t ready to give up yet. With incredible effort, he finally got his eyes open, breaking through a layer of melted snow as he did so.

He was on his side in a drift, with wintery hill spreading away beside him as far as he could see. A few sparse evergreen trees rose in the distance, but that was all. There was something pale in his way, covering much of his lower field of view. Probably a scrap of cloth frozen to his face by snow.

Talk about lucky. The snowstorm must’ve dropped him from low enough that he survived the fall—like those American tornadoes that deposited cars delicately at the top of buildings.

“Corey, can you hear me?” he asked, and immediately felt that something else was wrong. His ears must be ringing like crazy for it to sound like that. “Dude, are you there?”

The shock was enough that he tried to sit up, reaching for his radio.

Well that was what he tried to do. Instead, he lifted up on the snow a few centimeters, then smacked back down again. He caught a glimpse of yellow, speckled with bits of ice, then landed again and sunk deeper into the cold until it hit something hard.

He waited, but didn’t hear the hiss of radio, or Corey’s reassuring voice. Only a distant, mournful wind. “Dammit.”

I must’ve hit my head hard on the way down. But he was feeling more awake by the second, and the more his body told him the less certain he was. It wasn’t just his body that was wrong--the sky was light now, and he could make out the feeble polar sun somewhere in the distance. I’ve been unconscious for hours. Surviving an entire night exposed was some kind of miracle, but he couldn’t count on his luck holding out forever.

Okay, break the problem down into steps. One, stand up. There was no telling how long he’d been lying unconscious in the snow—and the longer he went, the worse his chances got. Corey hasn’t found me yet. I might be too far from the base for him to see me buried here.

He groaned, flexing arms and legs one at a time. Nothing felt broken, though they didn’t move quite right either. Probably still the cold playing tricks on him. Whatever, hands and knees first. He was already on his face, so that wouldn’t be so hard. Theo settled each limb in turn, ignored the numbness, then pushed.

It came surprisingly easily. He rose out of the snow, trailing white powder all the while. The instant he did, he caught a glimpse of green in front of his eyes for a second, before the wind pushed it behind him.

He looked down, flexing his fingers in the snow.

Even in plain sunlight, his arms looked wrong. His jacket was gone to parts unknown—which explained the silence from the radio—but under his black thermals he could see yellow fur emerging, rubbing uncomfortably on the tight spandex of ill-fitting clothes. “This is… bad.” The voice was worse. Much too high, with an almost singsong quality to it. And as he spoke, he could see something pale yellow moving.

Was that a… he reached a hand to confirm, and saw more than he wished from both. Yes, he did have a beak, hooked over at the end like a bird of prey. And his hands were a little shriveled, with thick skin and sharp nails on the end. Claws.

This can’t be a hallucination. It’s so complex… The simple way to break a delusion down was to examine it from all possible angles. So he tried standing up.

For a second, he had a much better view of where he’d ended up. He was still atop something massive, a ramp that towered above the surrounding forest, and was so large it had its own trees and snow-covered bushes. Nothing around him looked familiar—the mountains he used as landmarks were all in the wrong places, and nearby was a frozen river leading towards the buildings of a town that shouldn't exist.

But he saw all that in the second or so he could keep up his balance. Standing straight hurt his back, and he wasn’t holding still. His legs wobbled, and he smacked down to the ground, spraying snow again. This time his claws smacked through the eight or so inches of snow and into something solid—solid stone, with numerous bumps and cracks like it had been hand-carved.

Is this ramp some primitive superstructure, like the pyramids? Theo leaned down, scratching at the ice with his not-fingers. Bits of ice crumbled away, and underneath he could see carvings on the structure. Letters, or maybe hieroglyphs. He couldn’t read them either way. I didn’t know any of the local cultures worked in stone.

A distant thought, and one that seemed pale compared to all his other questions. Can’t stand up, got it. But he could still turn around, looking up the ramp instead of down. A trail of clothing and personal effects had been spread there—all his things.

His massive jacket was nearest to him, with a few tears in the arm and down scattered on the snow. A little higher up were his boots, torn socks, and the cargo sledge. His pants were gone too, though the embarrassment hardly ranked compared to his survival.

He also got a good glimpse of his back, which looked nothing at all like what he’d been expecting. Not only was the shape all wrong, but that was clearly a set of wings there in the middle, matching up exactly to another set of unexplained sensations.

Theo dared a few steps forward up the ramp, and found that things didn’t go back to normal. His brain felt almost completely clear, except perhaps a little tired from the cold. Less than he’d been expecting for wearing only the thermal underwear—if he really had fur, it was a much better insulator than the jacket he’d been wearing before.

Theo walked carefully up the ramp, until he reached the place his jacket had fallen. He pushed it open with one hand, having to balance on three legs while he worked. The radio was still there, though like so much else his headset was lost to time completely.

The radio was still on. The LCD screen had cracked, and part of it had died, but the rest showed the standard Barrow Observatory transmission frequency. He bent down, and carefully twisted the volume knob all the way up.

Static, interrupted with long stretches of silence. He listened for almost a minute straight, tapping his fingers rapidly against the ground. Nothing from base transmission.

Finally, Theo gave up, and held the transmit button down. “Corey, this is Theodor Pichler. I’m alive. I don’t know where I’ve ended up—near the top of some huge ramp. Looks about a hundred meters tall, you can’t miss it. Over.”

That voice did not get easier to hear coming out of his mouth the more he heard it. A little like his younger cousin, with all the musicality she’d had in choir. But no, probably just his head playing tricks on him. A lot of tricks.

He waited in silence for a few minutes, as the wind continued whipping up powder around him. No answer, just an occasional burst of static that never resolved into anything.

“I know the computer listens to our radio… maybe it will record this. Might be you’re not around. In case you’re hearing this… lots isn’t right. The sun is out here, way more than it should be. I must’ve been out for at least an hour and there’s no sign of it setting. Doesn’t look like it’s noon either. But… if you can hear how I sound… yeah. Please respond.”

Nothing. He tried talking back for a few more minutes—begging for rescue, asking for directions back to base, anything. Still nothing. By the time he gave up, the battery had dropped all the way to half, and Theo was fairly sure he was getting nowhere. He stopped trying to transmit, switching the radio into alert mode. It should keep going for days like that, alert to any transmission on the standard frequency. Hopefully I’m not out here that long. I can’t survive on my own.

The stupid thermal underwear was way too long—it was clearly slipping down his legs, and the sensation of fur on tight cloth did not get better the longer it kept going. Do I even need it looking like this?

He started with the top, since removing the bottoms would face him with things he wasn’t ready to look at just yet. But the top was easy enough—he could hold it against the snow with one hand, while lifting it off with the other. It got caught on his beak, and his wings, and lots of other things, but with only a handful of tears, he finally managed to pull free.

Even ripped and torn, the top looked way too big. Like he’d been wearing something comically large. But the radio had that look to it too, too big to hold except in both hands. The clothes aren’t any bigger. I’m smaller.

The chill ruffled his coat at first, making him shiver briefly. But it passed quickly enough. The top didn’t make much difference, and neither did the bottoms.

I must look ridiculous wearing these.

Maybe he did, but he wouldn’t take them off yet. That village was his obvious destination. Barrow shouldn’t have been this close to base, but then again it shouldn’t be as sunny as summer with a full blanket of winter snow either. And I shouldn’t be some comically oversized songbird.

Theo made his way up the slope a few steps, his claws not sinking all the way down to the stony layer beneath the ramp. It wasn’t much further to the edge, and he stopped just short of it.

There was nothing up here—a sheer drop down to simple wilderness no different from the rest of it. Just his cargo sledge, still open from when he’d removed the last of the sensor modules. Theo leaned down to glance inside—but there wasn’t much. A testing toolkit, in case something went wrong with one of them and he had to make a replacement. The rugged tablet used to manually tinker with the programming of individual units looked intact, though he didn’t open the hard-shell case.

I can use this sledge. It was much too large to be worn as a backpack, large enough that he could’ve climbed inside and still had plenty of room to spare. But there was a vest attached, with straps that could be tightened and worn to drag it as a sledge.

Theo spent a few minutes gathering up everything he could, even his ripped clothing, tossing it into the backpack and zipping it closed. His claws were going a little numb from being in the snow for so long, but he managed to work the zipper without too much trouble.

Having something with the NOAA logo so big should stop anyone from thinking I’m a dangerous animal and tranqing me. The sun still hadn’t set—had he been asleep for months? That couldn’t be right—his radio would’ve been dead. He would’ve been dead. They could’ve tracked the GPS in his tablet by then.

Can’t think about that. I have to keep moving. There was still a distant voice in his mind, whispering for him to curl up in the snow and sleep. If he listened to that voice, he would never wake up.

Theo slipped into the vest as best he could, though there was nothing to be done for the painful way it would rub against his wings. Wasn’t built as a mythical creature harness. What a surprise.

Hopefully that village had a mirror. Hopefully the people living there wouldn’t shoot him as soon as someone saw him.

It would be a long trip. Theo gritted his teeth, and started walking.

Author's Notes:

I really wanted this picture in the description, but as it turns out story descriptions aren't allowed to have images. So enjoy it here instead. Zutcha's done the art for all my stories before this, and it would've felt wrong to break the streak, even if the commissioner on this project chose a different artist for the cover.

And also seems excited about chapter art too. I'm not involved with any of this stuff, other than making sure the text lines up. But holy crap if it isn't gorgeous stuff. This chapter's art was done by Jasper.

Chapter 2: To a Strange Place

When Theo had first arrived at Barrow, he’d stepped out of a truck into the village and seen several dogs just lounging out in the snow. He hadn’t understood then how they could be so comfortable in temperatures that drained the life out of every inch of his exposed skin, temperatures that would give his ears frostbite in under an hour.

But now that all his clothing had been torn or been rendered near-useless and he had no choice, he was discovering exactly how useful a fur coat could be. The village was not nearby, and the trek through the cold probably would’ve been beyond him if he’d arrived here still human, wearing only the casual clothes he’d lounge in around the base. Granted, it was hard to tell where fur ended and feathers began, not without a mirror and more time to waste than he had right now. But feathers seemed to work well for penguins, so he couldn’t complain there either.

But even though he didn’t freeze to death on the trek down, that didn’t mean the temperature was entirely comfortable. Occasionally an arctic gust would rise, lifting the top level of snow and seeming to cut right through his new coat. If this species was intelligent—and it had to be, based on the fact that he hadn’t lost his mind and turned into an animal hunting trout or something in the river—then he guessed he would probably find the arctic-dwelling among them wearing jackets and boots similar to the ones he had left behind. The vest he was using as a harness to drag his belongings was not providing much in the way of insulation.

Theo reached the river after a few minutes of trudging down through the snow, stopping right beside it and testing with one claw. It seemed to be frozen at least ten centimeters down—enough to carry several humans at once, to say nothing of an arctic bird. His claws seemed almost made for it, and he stepped out onto its smooth surface with a little relief. There was less snow to be picked up this way, and dragging a backpack along it would be far easier than along the ground.

He started walking, and made it all of three steps before he felt one of his back legs slip out from under him. Dammit this is—and he smacked into the ice with his lower body, with a sound like a symphony drum. But where he expected crushing pain from between his legs, and the inevitable consequences of being naked out in the cold, he felt nothing at all. Not even one of the modified, fur-protected structures that most cold-dwelling animals relied on. “That isn’t…” He rose hastily, scrambling off the ice before that thought could get away from him. One mystery at a time. Those villagers are going to help me go right back where I came from, so it doesn’t matter how alien creatures breed. I’ll go right through and this can all be an embarrassing dream.

But thoughts of a return trip did not fill him with any more confidence. There was no observatory tower within view, and probably no reactor to power it. He hadn’t even seen electric lights glowing from the village. Which might be nothing. Wood-fired heating can be more efficient when you’re surrounded by trees.

The trip took over an hour. Theo had to fight the constant temptation to find an isolated corner of the snow and curl up, but he knew if he did that he probably wouldn’t wake up. Besides—while he’d left Barrow in the middle of the endless arctic winter, the sun was up here. Assuming the temperatures and snow indicated a northerly position on a similar globe, it might be daylight here for months.

But eventually the village came into view, and Theo stopped near the treeline to take it all in without being noticed by the inhabitants.

They were all four-legged like himself, and unmistakably intelligent even from far away. Few had wings and none had avian features like himself—if anything, these creatures resembled horses, in the same way he might’ve resembled an eagle. Which was to say sharing the same general design, without any of the right colors or proportions. They were also smaller than he was, some by a head or more. Only a handful of the bulkiest, sturdiest creatures were as tall as he was.

Many of them wore clothing as he had expected, mostly jackets and boots. Yet none of it made it far enough back to cover up anything that was between their legs. Is this what a nudist society looks like in the arctic?

If there was anything to instill a little doubt that he was dealing with an intelligent species, it was the lack of modesty. But that’s just bias talking. There’s nothing to force an alien society to act like the ones I’m used to. Besides, he would need help to get home. For all he knew these natives would be used to strangers appearing in town, and would know exactly where to send him for a swift return home. Theo checked his radio one last time, making sure it was still running, before settling it back into the backpack and shoving off through the treeline.

The town itself was built around the river, with homes on either side and a single stone bridge linking the two halves. The buildings were so covered in snow it was hard to see their style or method of construction. The only thing most of them shared were chimneys, where many little tendrils of woodsmoke rose into the air. It made the whole town smell like camping.

At a rough guess, there were probably about a thousand horses living in the town, with their homes stretching a little ways away from the river before the snow gradually reclaimed the land. And they weren’t blind—they were watching him.

Every one of the aliens that was within sight stopped to stare at him as he approached. A few pointed, whispering things he couldn’t hear to their companions. But Theo ignored them all, focusing on the single figure that hadn’t been part of a crowd.

This one was obviously male, he could tell that from how much taller he was than most of the others. Well, and the nudity certainly didn’t help. These sure were horses.

“Excuse me,” Theo said, wincing at just how high his own voice sounded by comparison. It didn’t seem like him at all, and he almost stumbled with every few words. But he forced himself to push through. “I’m lost and in trouble, and I was hoping you could help me.”

This close to the strange creature, Theo was immediately struck by just how powerful a smell he had. It wasn’t bad exactly, rather it was informative. That particular flavor of barnyard meant… a male, an older and powerful one secure in his position. The horse looked down at him—only an inch or so, but still intimidating. Where several of the other horses had retreated a little further at the sound of his words, this one met his eyes bravely, then answered. “Piprio aie chiouo svepmux? Piprxoo loielo chiouo arioogoo heveioog?”

Shit. Of all the details to forget, how could he forget the most obvious detail of all? If this was an alien world, where people were horses and birds, and clothes were more of a suggestion. Why would they speak any languages he knew? Theo switched to German, more out of vain hope than real expectation it would make a difference. “Was ist mit mir passiert?”

“Ie loio ewiosu uotxsplo chiouo. Arp chiouo elallooaise Lllieelapr?” The horse only looked more confused. He reached down into a pocket, lifting a monocle and studying Theo closely for a few seconds. He retreated in spite of himself under the pressure, though only a step before he caught himself.

“I don’t understand you,” Theo answered. “Is there anyone in town who might be able to translate? Maybe… someone who’s used to visitors?” Even though it seemed he wasn’t being understood, he was in no hurry to reveal much. Maybe he just felt self-conscious to be nakeder than these others.

The stallion pointed across the bridge, up towards a distant hill. “Aduse, iehe chiouo yi oadll, chiouo arp muio uoll qxoo.” Theo couldn’t understand a word of it, but that didn’t matter. He was being directed—maybe that was enough.

“Thank you!” he replied, and found his wings opening without them meaning to. It took a little more effort to close them, and he turned down the central road through town. It was only a gravel path, though it looked like it was regularly cleared judging by the walls of snow on either side.

Horses retreated out of his way as he got close, and Theo caught their scents too. But where the one he’d first spoken to had been confident, these others were fearful and nervous. Their postures told the same message, with flattened ears and eyes that never got high enough to make contact.

The hill he’d been directed to had a house perched on the edge, with a particularly dense cloud of smoke rising from it. But the home itself was concealed by the drifts and swaying evergreen trees.

As he walked, Theo became conscious of just how hungry he was. Thank God none of the little horse people smelled like food. But as he followed the path, he noticed what was unmistakably a roadside restaurant, with a huge bonfire burning under a roof and a sign covered in alien writing outside. There were chairs, many filled with little horses eating.

I should’ve eaten before I went out to put the sensors in. He couldn’t even identify what they were eating, but the smell… he didn’t much care.

Theo stepped up to the counter, shrugging off the vest he was using to drag his belongings. He retrieved his wallet, then dug around inside and pulled out a few notes. American bills, though he removed a few euros that’d been crumpled in back too, in case the shop owner here liked the look of those better.

“Hey,” he said, knowing he wouldn’t be understood. But this was commerce, one of the oldest languages of all. He held up the bills, then pointed sideways at the plate of… whatever the horse was eating. The grill marks on the lettuce alone were everything he needed to see. “I want those. Will you take… this?” The money felt strange in his claw, bigger than it should’ve been.

The horse beside the cooktop inside had hurried over at first, but she stopped dead when she saw Theo there, and the money he was offering. She shook her head, and said something that Theo couldn’t understand.

I mean, should I be surprised?

He was about to give up and move on when something moved beside him—a little gray and green that quickly resolved itself into the smallest horse creature he’d seen yet. This one didn’t have a beak or claws, but it did have a set of wings like he did, and an adorable little scarf.

She said something—Theo couldn’t understand what, obviously—and settled a little pile of gold coins on the table in front of him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Theo offered, but the kid was already scampering away. Before he could return the money, she was already gone, vanishing into the snowdrifts almost as tall as she was.

The shopkeeper returned, staring down at the coins, and muttering something. Theo just shrugged, returning the bills to his wallet. The coins were soon gone, replaced with a steaming pile of… well, he had no idea. But the lettuce was surprisingly fresh for the altitude, and the steamed vegetables inside were exactly what he was craving after a long walk through the cold. It was hot, so hot it burned his tongue a little, but he didn’t even care.

I’ll have to thank that girl somehow, if I see her again. Theo gathered up his things, once again to the relief of the townspeople as he finally reached the hill.

The house waiting at the top was unlike any other he’d seen so far—there were metal fences around it instead of wooden ones, and the gravel path down to it was lit with little glowing… lamps? Whatever they were, they suggested a technology he hadn’t seen anywhere else. A previous victim, maybe? Has anyone else at the observatory gone missing?

There was only one way to find out.

Chapter 3: Filled With Strange People

The house at the top of the hill seemed more encouraging the closer Theo came to it. It wasn’t just that it was built in a more familiar manner, with fired bricks instead of the packed snow blocks that the locals seemed to use. But there was smoke rising from several chimneys of different heights, and a huge slowly turning wheel on the outside. It was hard to say what it actually did, at least until Theo saw where it ended.

There was a tiny outbuilding beside the house. He could see a huge stone wheel turning slowly inside, and the ponies in line in front of it. I wonder if that’s why they let you stay in town. You buy off the locals with a little invention. It would all be confirmed as soon as he saw the one who lived here—they’d be a bird like him, signifying that they too were from Earth. Has anyone else gone missing?

The locals scattered as he approached, backing to the very edge of the path and staring as he went. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be out of your way soon.” Was that just his imagination, or was that more gray out of the corner of his eye?

Last year someone had been eaten by a polar bear, or that was the rumor. What had she been… some kind of biologist?

Theo reached the door, and could see through the little window in the front that a second airlock section was waiting inside. It was probably just a tiny room to keep air from being lost as quickly.

A massive pull-cord waited beside it. He took it easily in one claw, and yanked with all his might. A deep, reverberating gong sounded throughout the structure, and Theo actually pulled back, eyes widening in surprise and a little fear. These ears are too sensitive.

At least the one who lived here wouldn’t miss him.

He could hear the motion inside before he saw anything—then the inner door opened, and a moment later so did the outer one.

Theo felt his heart sink as he saw the one standing on the threshold—not another bird-monster like he was, but one of the horses. Taller than he was, though this one lacked wings. The colors could’ve been an ordinary horse, ruddy brown with a black mane, except he doubted many horses back home had spiked their mane with gel.

And most of them probably didn’t dress in a western-style duster covered with patches and little burn marks. The smell of sulfur and hot metal practically radiated off him, but in a way that was almost comforting. It seemed beyond what any of the locals could do.

Then the horse creature opened his mouth, and Theo faced the ultimate disappointment. “Pioom, priopiloch qxoo ogiec! Pipraisu arp ie loio hed chiouo?” He nodded politely to him, and sounded pleased to see him there. But he wasn’t speaking any language Theo knew.

“Hey,” Theo said, in English this time. Probably my best chance. “I don’t know if you can understand me, but I just landed here from Earth. I dunno if maybe you work for someone who knows what any of this means, or…”

The horse’s eyes widened at the sound of his words. He said something else—something he didn’t understand, but there was growing excitement in his tone. He reached out, clasping him by the foreleg and pulling gently inside.

I hope that means he understood. Theo followed without resistance, which was good since despite not having any fingers this horse felt like he could tear a house out of the ground if he wanted.

Theo did his best to shut the door behind him, then followed the strange pony into his home.

Past the inner door was a tiny dining area with a large flat mirror against the wall, but they weren’t headed into the kitchen. There were stairs leading down into the ground just past it, that was where the horse led him.

Electric lights illuminated the hallway, naked Edison bulbs that got brighter and dimmer again in irregular patterns.

“Whoever you’re taking me to, I know a few other languages. If German would be easier…” Still no response. His guide didn’t even seem to notice that he was using another language.

Then they stepped into a workshop. Easily larger than the house above, with a forge glowing brightly under a massive metal hood. All the usual blacksmithing tools were here, along with a homemade-looking electric lathe, slowly spinning.

He could see no other creatures down here, though. Not even another horse. This one was taking him to a dark doorway on the far wall, beyond which Theo could see the suggestion of shelves.

Theo stopped following, retreating a step towards the stairs. He eyed the empty doorway. “Look, uh… whoever you are. I’m sure you’re trying to help me, but I don’t want to climb into a hole and never come out again. Maybe you could just… explain what you’re doing right here?”

The horse shrugged, vanishing into the gloom and out of sight for a few seconds. Long enough for Theo to wonder if he should run for his life. And go where? As frightening as this was, it was also his best chance for an ally.

The horse emerged a moment later, not with a chainsaw or something else terrifying, but a tightly-wrapped bundle of cloth about the size of a football. He gestured for Theo to follow, settling it down on one of the many sturdy workbenches to unwrap.

It’s some artifact from Earth, I bet. It will have writing he can’t read on it, and I won’t be any closer to a way out than I was before.

Actually, it was jewelry. A silvery necklace, with the slightly corroded look of aluminum left out in the elements for many years. There were no gemstones, just a few loops of different metals around an opening the size of a thumb. Like someone popped the gemstone out to sell.

The horse said something, pushing it closer to him with a hoof. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would wear jewelry?” Actually, Theo had no idea what kind of guy he looked like.

The horse pushed it a little closer, then mimed lifting it over his own head.

Well at least you didn’t take me down here to cut out my kidneys or something. There was no harm in trying it. Theo reached out, taking the necklace in one claw, and lifted it.

“Prxoo pioo muio—I’m quite certain it should have the intended effect on a traveler, but I haven’t had the opportunity to test it on account of already speaking Ponish.”

It was like tuning in a radio dial, shifting from a station of incomprehensible static to one he could understand clearly.

Theo jumped, dropping the necklace before it could settle around his neck. The creature’s voice melted back into confusion again.

“Ullela! Adoosu ogoo muoosu qaisu hed chiouo,” he said, somehow scooping it up off the rough stone floor before Theo could reach. He tossed it up into the air, settling it around his neck. “There we are, miss. Your claws must be numb from the cold… I’m sure we can do something about that in a moment.”

The effect was the same, and just as instantaneous. Theo stumbled back, but this time the necklace couldn’t go anywhere. It seemed the perfect size, loose enough not to cut off circulation but not so loose that it would slide around everywhere.

“Assuming it’s working,” the horse said, one of his eyebrows going up. “Can… you… understand me?”

“Yes,” he squeaked. “How?” He stared down at the necklace, lifting it up a little with one claw and inspecting it. It wasn’t just little chain links, as he’d first thought. Each little link was actually a stylized letter, with writing on it he might’ve been able to read under a magnifier. No circuit boards, speakers, wires… nothing at all to suggest why it would work.

There were plenty of circuits in the observatory. That doesn’t explain changing into a bird.

Something thumped in the house above them, and the horse glanced up with a frown. “That shouldn’t…” He shook his head. “Nevermind that!” He took one of Theo’s forelegs again, grinning from ear to ear. “It worked! All this time I thought it might’ve been a fraud, but… it’s real.

“It’s real.” He slumped backward onto his haunches, staring. “The bridge is really here. Two years of waiting… and a traveler walks into my house. But… how did she know to find me?” Frustration briefly flashed across his face, but it didn’t seem to be with him.

She. This pony had said “she”. Theo had thought the high voice was normal—until he heard what this stallion sounded like. He was smaller than they were, and smelled differently.

If your species can change, why not other things?

Suddenly nothing else mattered in the world—not that he was potentially on another planet, not being able to speak the language.

Theo ran, back up the stairs the way he’d come. He didn’t have to go very far—that huge mirror had been right along the way down to the workshop, and it wasn’t like he had clothes. But even if he had, whatever strange clothes the natives wore would not have made a difference here.

“Wait, miss! Come back! We haven’t even—”

He skidded to a stop in front of the mirror, lifting his tail more by sheer force of will than actually knowing how to control it yet. At least this weird bird-body was flexible enough to look behind himself.

But no, himself wasn’t quite the word anymore. Granted there was nothing at all human back there, and that probably should’ve been worse. But there was no mistaking any of that plumbing for correct. The stallion who’d given her the necklace was proof enough that males here worked the way they were supposed to. A painful reminder.

Theo slumped onto the floor, all the energy and hope draining as surely as learning there was “no way back.” Going to another world, that had been exciting in its way. But now…

“What are you doing?” asked a tiny voice from the kitchen. A tiny, somehow familiar voice. Theo looked up and was surprised to see a face she recognized. It was the pegasus from before, the one that bought her lunch. “Did something get stuck in your tail? I can help you get it out.”

“No,” she said, covering her face in her forelegs. “It’s what’s not there that’s the problem.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Hey!” The stallion from before called from the stairs, glaring past Theo. “I told you to stop sneaking in here, Aurora! Your mother already said I couldn’t apprentice you, and you know I have to respect her—” He stopped. “Later. I was in the middle of something.”

He closed the distance in a moment, stopping beside Theo and looking down. “I’m sorry to press, miss, but acquiring the artifact you’re wearing was an effort of years. I must know if it counted for anything. Such as… is it doing something to your mood? Do you feel… afraid? Are you seeing things that aren’t there, or—”

Theo looked up. If she were feeling better, she probably would’ve measured her words, keeping everything she knew close to her chest. But she no longer had the presence of mind for that.

“I’m not seeing things that should be there, as a matter of fact.” She rose onto her claws, wings trying to spread out in spite of the straps pulling the sled.

“I’m not supposed to be here, I’m not supposed to be this. This isn’t the Barrow Observatory, this isn’t Earth, I’m not a bird and I’m not a girl and I don’t speak the language and I don’t have any money and…”

She stopped abruptly. Both of them were staring at her—the little winged one apparently named Aurora and the blacksmith looking stallion whose name she didn’t know yet. “I’m fucked.”

She slumped down onto her haunches, as much because it felt natural as because it would hide what shouldn’t be there. “You, horse guy. I need to find the way back to Earth. Which way?”

The stallion sat down just within reach, resting a hoof gently on her shoulder. Her first instinct was to hit him, but—she couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened today. Theo melted, her pain changing to simple, agonized sobs.

Chapter 4: Who Are Kinder Than They Seem

Theo couldn’t have said how long she held there, sobbing into the shoulder of a stranger. Whatever shame she might’ve had had been left behind on the ice, along with so much else. But eventually there were no more tears left, no more sobs in her lungs. She pulled away, sat up, wiped her face. “I’m sorry… I’m not like this normally, I promise. This is…”

The stallion and the girl were both watching her, much more sympathetic than frustrated or annoyed. “You’re one of them,” the stallion said. “A Traveler from the other side.”

She nodded. “Not by choice. I didn’t think I was going to go anywhere. Nobody knows this is… possible.” She held out one of her legs, turning it over in front of her. The claw at the end still looked strange to her, particularly from the way she also needed it to walk.

“Other side of what?” the girl asked. This is getting really frustrating. I need to learn your names.

“There’s a… bridge,” the stallion began. “At least, some really old ponies thought there was. From our world to another one where ponies used to live. It wasn’t us who made it, that was the hippogriffs.” He nodded slightly towards Theo, as though that was supposed to make sense for some reason. But he didn’t wait, just kept right on going. “I’ve been looking for it for… a long time.”

“Wait…” She took a few steps further, glancing between them. “Now that I understand you, can I get your names? I’m Theodor, or at least I was. Who are you?”

“Sharp Edge,” said the stallion, apparently relaxing. “Three-oh-door, hmm. That’s… going to be hard. What language is that?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Names don’t really… English, I guess? German? Either one, you just say it a little different.” ‘Sharp Edge’ had said it quite a bit different, though.

“I’m Emerald!” the girl supplied, apparently unconcerned with this mystery. “Emerald Aurora.”

“Who certainly doesn’t belong here,” Sharp said. “You know your mother is probably having a fit to be missing you, filly. Fly on home.”

“Fly on home?” she repeated, wings snapping to her sides. “You just said this creature is from another world! Makes sense, with the way she was acting. Freaked out half of Sleighsburg wandering around making weird noises. I don’t think anyone had ever seen a hippogriff before.”

She bounced up in front of her, ears flattening. “Not that I mind you’re a hippogriff, Door!” She wrinkled her nose as she tried the name, and failed. “I heard about you, that magical city down south that came up from the sea. Is your world underwater too?”

Sharp rested a leg on her shoulder. “Come on, Emerald. She’s stressed, confused. She doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions right now.” But from his face, it seemed he too had a long list of questions, probably more sensible ones. But he was more polite, and didn’t ask.

It doesn’t matter. This pony knows where I came from. He’s been looking for it. “You know about the… you called it a bridge. Do you think you could get it to open for me? So I could go back home?”

Emerald tensed, ears flattening. “You wanna leave already?”

But as before, Sharp ignored her. “It’s a distinct possibility. I know where the bridge is located. I’ve never been able to get it to open from this side before… but something might’ve changed. You’re here after all, and surely past travelers intended to return to their homes. You… didn’t seem to intend to move in here.”

“I didn’t. But… if you take me back there, I can… I can tell you anything you want to know about my world.” Once she knew she could return, Theo wouldn’t feel like she was in so much of a hurry to get going in the first place. But at least for now, she was trapped. She had to get out of her cage, back into her correct body. Then maybe she could stop and marvel at just how amazing this whole situation was.

“O-of course, yes. I could certainly take you back. But it’s nearly nightfall, and the temperature will only keep falling. How about you spend the evening with me here, indulge my curiosity a bit, and we can be off at first light tomorrow morning.”

Theo twitched slightly at the words ‘with me,’ but couldn’t detect any kind of double meaning there. Of course there’s not. You’re not even the same kind of animal as him, and he was right there for that rant. He’s just being polite.

They would still be looking for him, up in Barrow. Maybe the storm would’ve died down enough to have a search team out by now. Or maybe they would still be on their way up from the town. Either way, they wouldn’t have given up after just a day. She could afford a little time.

If going back works the same as arriving, I’ll show up on the tower. I stumble through naked and still make it into the base.

“I could cook dinner!” Emerald suggested helpfully. “That’s what a good apprentice would do, isn’t it? I can take over the menial labor, so you can investigate this extremely mysterious magical event.”

“I…” Sharp looked like he wanted to say no, but not with much effort. “Well, that’s probably for the best. My attempts at cooking would be… less than adequate for a visitor from another realm, certainly. But you know how much your mother hates when you run off, Emerald. You really shouldn’t act with such disregard for her wishes.”

“I don’t,” the pony said, her voice growing a little distant. “She doesn’t mind as much as you think. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t notice if I came back right now. This late at night, she’s probably got into the cider.”

But she didn’t elaborate, just fluttered off into the kitchen and out of sight.

Sharp sighed. “Her mother owns the general store—the only trade with the mainland comes through her. They’re not native, if you can’t tell from the uh…” He nodded towards her wings. “Well, none of my business. She really would make an excellent apprentice. When she’s a few years older she’ll be able to decide that for herself, if she hasn’t changed her mind.” He straightened, rising. “Well, into the sitting room. We can sit by the fire, and you can tell me a little about your world. Perhaps there are things you’d like to know about mine. No reason we can’t have a fair exchange.”

Sharp Edge did have a comfortable little home, despite the arctic wasteland all around them. It reminded Theo a little of what she’d imagined in the home of ancient gentlemen of years past, with dark stained wood and various adventuring trophies set onto the walls. There were plenty of books as well, with worn looking covers.

The questions were less complicated than she’d expected. “Are there many ponies where you come from? Is the climate similar to Sleighsburg? Are there any pony cities near the exit? Did you notice the moment of Nightmare Moon’s return?”

Her answers seemed only to make him curiouser, though. “We don’t look like you,” she had explained. “There’s only one kind of creature, with two legs and no fur. And we don’t come in nearly as many shades as you do.”

“Non-equanoid intelligence…” Sharp scribbled that down on a notepad, as he had with almost everything she’d said. “Fascinating. Not impossible, for sure. The minotaurs demonstrate that much. But if you’re not equanoid, why are you a hippogriff now? I assumed… and I guess I was wrong, but I assumed… that the creatures who built the bridge would be the ones who lived on the other side. Not the case?”

“I’m positive,” she said, voice flat. “If I’d been a magical bird monster, I’d know. In fact…” She rose to her claws, hurrying over to where she’d left her pack beside the door. She hadn’t been able to bring everything, but the bag still had some useful tools.

Her heart sunk a little at the slight green glow from the radio. It wasn’t that she’d switched it off by mistake—no one had answered her call.

Sharp Edge’s tea sat forgotten on the table as he suddenly crowded nearby, staring at each of her tools as they emerged. But she was only looking for the one. Her tablet wrapped in a protective plastic shell.

The battery on it wasn’t long for this world, and it was still off. But she didn’t need to turn it on. There on the back of the case, secured with a thin layer of epoxy, was a picture of her together with her family, on her graduation day.

The tablet was still oversized and clumsy in her claws, but she did her best to ignore that, turning it over. “That’s what we look like. Every person on Earth is like that. Only the skin is different, and not nearly as much as you ponies here.”

Sharp leaned in close, staring at the screen with eyes almost as wide as his hooves. He squinted down, then glanced up at her. “One of these is you?”

“The one in the middle, yes. Part of why I’m so upset. Walking around on all fours is… confusing. But for some reason, coming here appears to have… changed other things.” She blushed, sitting down firmly on her haunches. It helped with her modesty, so long as she kept her butt firmly planted beneath her.

Sharp Edge nodded, finally letting go of the tablet. “It’s a variable in the bridge I didn’t anticipate. Why in Equestria would your ancestors build a bridge that didn’t let them come here as themselves?” He rose, pacing slowly beside her. “The answer appears obvious—your ancestors did not build it. Perhaps you, uh… ‘human’, you said? Perhaps you human creatures are the native species on this planet, and the hippogriffs and others who used it were mere visitors.”

“I don’t know that could’ve—” But she trailed off. It was all well and good to insist on a rational interpretation of the past, but it wasn’t clear that interpretation would survive scrutiny. She couldn’t argue with being here, or being transformed. She could feel every part of her body just as well as ever. They just weren’t the right parts. “Actually, maybe they could. I don’t know. Maybe your ancestors did come.”

“Not mine, or not many.” But he wasn’t peremptory, only matter-of-fact. “Yours. Or… perhaps the ancestors of the species you have become. Hippogriffs. Come to think of it, your current change might be explained under that context as well. They are masters of transformation magic. Maybe the bridge exposed you to something by accident, or… wasn’t configured properly by the last pony to cross.”

“You can still fix it, right?” She was suddenly at his side, clinging as desperately as she had a few hours ago. “My whole world is back there! Everyone I care about, everything I’ve ever worked for. I need to get back.”

“Yes!” He patted her on the shoulder in a way meant to be reassuring. Yet his actual tone didn’t sound that sure. “I mean, I’ll try. Try to join you on the return trip, if I can. Traveling across the Bridge has always been one of my personal ambitions. Perhaps you can give me hospitality in your world, as I’ve given you.”

Theo laughed in spite of herself. “If you come back with me, it’ll be… quite the adventure.” She would certainly be famous after that. If they turn my life into a movie, I’ll have to make sure not to mention being a girl on this side.

“Food’s ready!” called Emerald’s voice from the kitchen. Then she sniffed, and she realized she was hungry. She still couldn’t identify any of the smells, but maybe that didn’t matter.

Just one night like this, then it’s back home. Back home to talk-show tours and being the center of a first-contact story.

She could still try to talk Sharp out of it. She’d have to see how tomorrow went, then decide.

Chapter 5: Take a Trip

Emerald’s attempt at dinner was something Theo would’ve described as “admirable,” though she very obviously wouldn’t be opening any restaurants in the near future. But at least Theo’s beak didn’t fall off.

The child was a little less amicable about going home. But Sharp walked her out, promised they wouldn’t leave come morning without saying goodbye first, and finally the little pegasus flew off.

Actually flew, like right up into the air. Theo stared openly as she took off, though her companion didn’t seem to understand her confusion.

“She really does mean well,” Sharp said, turning to head up the stairs onto the second floor. They hadn’t been up there yet, but Theo could see what were obviously bedroom doors, waiting for them. “If her mother wasn’t such a fanatic about ‘traditional pegasus careers’, I think she’d make an outstanding blacksmith. But… I wouldn’t want to be the one to sow discord in their family. They’ve got enough of that without my help.”

Theo said nothing to that, just waited while the pony prepared what had been an empty bedroom with supplies from the closet.

“It’s been, uh… a long time since I’ve had a mar—a guest! A long time since I’ve had a houseguest!” Sharp said, emerging from the little guest bedroom with a freshly made bed behind him and an embarrassed look on his face. “Hopefully this isn’t less than what you were expecting. I’m not sure how Travelers live.”

Theo stared past him at the room, which reminded her more than a little of something she would’ve expected in a pre WW1 household—handmade blankets, simple furniture, and not even an alarm clock on the nightstand. But there was an overhead light, which Sharp seemed to see her looking at.

“Oh, right! These. I know how rare it is to see electricity this far north, but I’ve got something really special here.” He reached down, flicked on the light. It wasn’t terribly bright, and its light wasn’t quite steady either. But Sharp didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he was beaming with pride.

“Thanks, Sharp.” Even with everything she’d suffered today—getting her body stolen, her sex, having to walk through the snow half naked—she couldn’t quite bring herself to say something mean. Not to the one who’d offered her the way out. “It’s perfect.”

“Good. Good. Glad to hear it.” He got out of the way, backing down the hall. “I’m, uh… just over here if you need anything. Feel free to bang on the wall if you notice any strange noises coming from downstairs. And… yeah, that’s about it. We’ll probably set off a little after dawn, when it’s cold enough to sled and there’s light to see. So expect an early wake-up.”

“No problem.” She lowered her voice. “Do you… think we’ll really be able to send me home tomorrow?”

Sharp opened his mouth to say what she wanted to hear—but then he seemed to hesitate, expression changing to an unreadable mask. “I think I’ll do everything I understand to try and send you back. But the Hippogriffs are an ancient race, and their magic isn’t always straightforward to ponies. It’s possible it will need more research.”

“But I’ve got the best… pony… for the job,” Theo went on. “Studying this is why you’re up here, isn’t it? I get to go home, and you get to make progress on your life’s work. Perfect.”

“Perfect,” he agreed halfheartedly. “Speak to you tomorrow, Traveler. Perhaps you will be feeling better then—even if you do intend to return, there are many questions I would ask.”

Theo spent a long time awake in bed that night, stretched on an uncomfortable mattress in a surprisingly warm house for the gale blasting on the other side of the glass. In front of her on the bed was a collection of her earth objects—tablet computer, camera, and radio. She was saving battery on the first, and she still hadn’t heard back on the last. In minimum usage mode like this, she would still have plenty of juice on the radio. Even if the bridge wasn’t working all the way—if she could even get it open an inch, she could get a radio transmission through.

And do what? Who in god’s name do I call for help?

Her camera was a little more functional—one of the newer instant cameras, that produced digital images as well as a Polaroid-size printout with each shot. She’d taken a picture of herself, a picture of the village from out the window. But though the battery wouldn’t be much of an issue with that device, its supply of special paper would run out eventually too.

If I knew I was packing for an adventure in another world, I would’ve brought a solar panel or something. Also some beef jerky. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

Getting comfortable in bed wasn’t easy, even when she tugged off all the ill-fitting remnants of her human clothes. After an hour of tossing and turning, she found curling up was the best choice—though her human self wouldn’t have been able to move that way.

And far too quickly, it was morning again. Theo groaned, and for a single blessed second she imagined she was in her empty bedroom back at Barrow base, and the noise she was hearing was just the cawing of the alarm.

Then one of her wings twitched, and she remembered that she was the one who’d be doing the birdcalls from now on.

She fumbled with one claw for the necklace-thing that let her understand the ponies, slipping it on over her head. This time she thought she noticed something—a subtle feedback against her skin, almost like electricity. But the sensation was brief, and didn’t last.

“Getting packed up downstairs! Just oats for breakfast I’m afraid. Also, Emerald is here. I think she wants to see you.”

It all came crashing back—Theo was in the wrong world, her body was completely wrong, and she couldn’t even understand the natives without the help of some impossible magic jewelry.

Nowhere to go but up. Sharp Edge was the expert of the bridge. In some ways, she was extremely lucky. There could’ve been no one who knew about the portal—or worse, maybe there could’ve been an empty ice sheet, without so much as a shack for her to hide in.

She spent nearly twenty minutes struggling back into what clothing she could. But she couldn’t get the thermals up her back legs to go any higher than her wings, and so she just ended up wearing the shorts underneath. The thinner jacket that had been under her outer layer. But I’ve got feathers. This will be warm enough.

She could tell it wasn’t dignified even before she left the bedroom. But then Emerald started giggling, and she felt her ears moving of their own accord.

“Is that really how ponies dress on the other side of the bridge?” Emerald asked, watching her struggling down the stairs with a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Cuz’ that… doesn’t look like it makes sense.”

“Says the kid flying around naked,” Theo muttered, though she avoided looking at the pegasus for more than a few seconds at a time. It was too early to deal with other people yet. “Please tell me you have coffee, Sharp.”

“Am not!” Emerald fluttered through the air, landing beside her on the stairs and hopping down alongside. “I’ve got this scarf! It’s real nice, see? Wool comes all the way from Equestria. Specially imported and everything. Bet you don’t have anything made of wool.”

She smiled in spite of herself. No, but my jacket is down. Something tells me you wouldn’t be thrilled about where those feathers came from. “Nope,” she said. “Not on me. I lost my hat and… most of my clothes… when I came through. But it won’t matter soon, because I have plenty of clothes waiting for me on the other side.”

They rushed through breakfast, eating what could be seriously described as a thick paste of oats before setting off along the trail. And there was one—icy, seldom used, but marked with the occasional overturned rock to indicate slopes covered by snow and other hazards.

Of course, the best part of the trip over was that Sharp Edge had a sled, and apparently the strength of an entire team of reindeer by himself. He’d already packed the whole thing with tools and supplies, leaving room on the back for Theo to hang on.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, stepping up onto the raised wooden platform. Securing her own gear on it barely took any space at all. “I may not know how to use these wings, but I can walk.”

“Eh, I’m sure,” Sharp said, throwing a harness on over his bare shoulders. There was no blacksmith’s outfit this time—just a scarf and a pair of snow-goggles. “You’re like a pegasus, I can tell. Just because you don’t know how to fly yet doesn’t mean you aren’t light enough. I could pull three of you, and it would still be easier than one of me.”

“Well there’s two.” Emerald landed on the center of the pile of gear, grinning at them both. “I couldn’t let my master go on a dangerous mission without his apprentice.”

“It’s not dangerous,” Sharp said, clipping his restraints to thick rope on the front of the sledge. “It’s just a quick trip a few miles up from town, that’s all.”

“And since it’s so safe, you can bring me no problem!” Emerald exclaimed, practically squealing with delight. The pony looked back at her, expression briefly flickering through annoyance, then realization.

You let her lead you right into that one. But she didn’t actually say that. Theo didn’t mind if the little pegasus wanted to come along.

Soon enough they were moving, sliding along the ice with apparently minimal effort from Sharp. Theo kept her head down as they passed through the busy morning streets, wincing at the words she could now understand.

“I can’t believe Equestria just lets them fly anywhere they want.”

“They eat fish, I heard. The actually eat fish.”

“Somepony really ought to do something about it.”

For an adorable little village filled with adorable horse-creatures, the words they said were sounding increasingly like what she might’ve found on the worst corners of the internet. Maybe our worlds are more alike than I thought.

“I was thinking about you last night,” Emerald said, once they’d passed the last of the squat snow houses and were moving smoothly down the trail. “About that… weird name of yours.”

“It’s not weird,” Theo said, before the girl could take this anywhere she didn’t want to go. “It’s a perfectly normal name. Your names sound strange to me—having everyone named after things.”

“Yeah, well… I thought about that.” Emerald stuck out her tongue, pointing at the necklace. “That magic lets you say our words just fine. But while you’re here… I need something I can say. Did you have a nickname?”

“Theo,” Theo said flatly.

“Ugh.” The pegasus took off—almost effortlessly, from the look of it. Just spread her wings, and started gliding above the sled. Sharp had been right about the weight—he didn’t seem to react to having the pony unexpectedly gone. “That’s not helpful. Maybe… something else? Let’s see… I dunno how hippogriffs do it, but ponies sometimes have names like their cutie marks. You don’t have a cutie mark, so… maybe how you look instead?”

The little pegasus was an impressive flyer, as much as any bird Theo had ever watched. Which made it even more impressive, considering Emerald’s size. She’d already be as big as the largest eagles back home. What does that make me?

“How about… Summer. Summer something.” Emerald landed on the sled again, facing back at her. “Your mane is green, and we only see green in summer. Your coat too. Like… sunshine. Maybe… Summer Ray?”

“Summer Ray is not a nickname,” Theo said, annoyed. “Couldn’t you just call me Theo?”

“Summer sounds like a lovely name,” Sharp called from up ahead. Their pace was slowing now, apparently because he was occasionally glancing back to see what they were doing.

Summer does sound like a real name. A girl’s name. But then, how long would it matter?

“We’re here!” Sharp called, almost in answer to her question. And Theo could see that he was right—the massive ramp of stone leading up into the air towered over their heads, unchanged from the last time she’d seen it. She could even see a little trash and scraps of clothes she’d left from the last time poking out of fresh snow.

I’m going home in a few minutes anyway. Maybe I should let her have her fun. “Alright, Emerald. You can call me Summer.” As we’re saying goodbye.

Chapter 6: To a Snowy Door

The stairway into nothing was waiting for them exactly where Theo remembered it. Yet despite how little time had passed, as they approached it from the sled, she saw it with new eyes.

When she’d stumbled out of the gateway in a body that wasn’t hers and nothing making sense, she’d taken the structure for something out of The Lion King. Yet now that she saw it from the ground, that clearly wasn’t the case. Snow and ice covered it, but from the ground there were plenty of sections where wind or simple gravity had dislodged them, revealing what was beneath.

Not an ancient rock, but an ancient structure. Huge pillars, wider than her body and taller than she thought could stand on their own, had collected sediment between them with the passing of numberless eons, and in sections she could see where they had crumbled away. Where she had emerged was a platform into the sky, but also the roof resting upon those pillars. All those archeologists who can’t figure out how they built Stonehenge are gonna have a helluva time explaining this.

“Wait, hold on a second.” Theo hopped off the sled, catching herself on the ground only with the aid of sharp claws. She tore up the ice and snow for a second, then came to an abrupt stop. She removed the little instant-camera, then snapped a picture. “They’re going to want to see this when I get back.”

“Why?” Edge did stop, though it had taken him a moment to slow down. She hurried to catch up, spreading her wings involuntarily as she moved. She still didn’t know what to do with those wings, but it felt good to have them out and useful. “Are there… scholars in your world as well? Did they know about the portal?”

She hopped onto the edge of the sled. “Yes, and no. In some ways, I was a scholar. But what I studied… would be hard to explain. But just because we didn’t know about this thing… I’m sure it’s going to fascinate scientists for a generation after this. Female scientists.” She shuddered, tucking her tail a little between her legs, blushing.

“Does that mean you might come back?” Emerald asked, grinning. “You should! You really need the practice with those wings… I could teach you!”

That does sound fun, she thought. She leaned forward, patting the kid once. “We’ll see. They might send me again just because I’m familiar with this. Or… they might think I’m insane and lock me up for the rest of my life. Guess I’m about to find out. How do we… work this thing, anyway? Just climb back to the top?”

“No.” Edge brought them up to a huge pillar that had been swept clear of debris and snow by the wind, then started undoing all the clasps from his back. He fished around in the cart for just a second, then emerged moments later with a metal pickaxe over his shoulder.

Time to play Minecraft?

Apparently not. Edge swung with all his might, and huge chunks of ice went flying. His body was sturdy and muscular, but even still the two passengers had to back away and get clear of the avalanche of ice and snow Edge was producing. “Control room is… down here. Cut my way in… few years ago. Know where…” He heaved, breath fogging up in front of him. Theo looked away with all her might, as her mind took what she saw in directions that she’d rather not explore.

No no no no stop it. Your real body is waiting on the other side of that ice. Go away, instincts. I’m almost out of here. A few moments later and he’d broken through, into a massive, vaulted space. There was a metallic superstructure underneath, one that hadn’t rusted despite the moisture and the climate. Not steel, then. Interesting.

Edge lifted a gas lantern from the sled, then lit it with flint. “Come on, then. Let’s switch it on. Should… should work for you. You’re a Traveler, after all. Your claw on the controls is what it needed.”

Despite its incredible age, the structure seemed intact. There were no chunks of fallen rock on the inside, only little piles of dirt and rubble near where the other pillars had once opened.

“This used to be open to the sky,” she realized. “Like some kind of… airport.”

“I think it was religious,” Edge responded, as they reached a smaller circle near the center. It was so deep under the mountain that every word they spoke echoed around them, and the sunlight behind came through in a line. “The carvings seem like rituals. I don’t know what they were doing, or why. Lots of ancient cultures mixed their religion and their magic, and that makes studying difficult.”

Guess our worlds have that in common. Except for the magic part.

“Here, this is where all the spells converge.” Edge gestured at a semicircular ring of pillars, with a single slab of stone resting above.

“Is this… the same thing?” Emerald asked from beside her. “They built a little one inside the big one!”

“I guess they did.” Sharp looked up, but the beam from his lantern didn’t even make it to the stony roof far above. “Dunno why. Probably has something to do with how the magic works, but…” He shrugged. “The controls are on the ground, Theo. You should be able to see it.”

“Summer,” Emerald corrected, as though she’d barely even listened. “That’s what we’re calling her. It’s a better name.”

Theo ignored them both, ducking through the arches so she could see the patch of ground that Sharp had indicated. There was a… wheel set into the ground, the sort that she might’ve turned to lift something heavy. It stood vertically on a metal rod, and looked to have some resistance to it. Theo nudged it with one claw, and found it resisted her. No way this is powering the trip over. But what could power a trip between universes?

No, don’t think about that. Just get home, leave the mystery for scientists and conspiracy theorists.

“Just grab it, and twist as far as you can. The wheel will start turning the other way, but it should give you plenty of time to climb to the top. A good twenty minutes at least.”

“Before I do…” Theo blushed, but she wasn’t going to give up. “Could you two pose with me? I want to take a picture of this.”

“Not for an hour!” Edge said. “Holding still underground… even if the ancient hippogriffs who built it were good engineers, I don’t want to trust the stone for that.”

“No!” She rolled her eyes. “Just for a second.” She settled the camera up on a bit of rock, then hurried up to Sharp Edge. “You can stand here, Emerald. Just look at that box.”

“It’s making noises.” Emerald watched it suspiciously.

“That’s a countdown. It’s just a camera, promise.”

“If you say so.” She flew up beside them, and was actually hovering in the air when the flash went off. Emerald whined, covering her eyes with the back of one leg. “Egh, that was bright!”

“Just the flash.” Theo collected the camera. “Thanks, I… just wanted something to remember you by. If I don’t get to come back.” The camera was already spitting out the little print, though “little” for their current size actually made it about the same size as a standard photograph in her claws. She tucked the picture away under the strap with her radio. “Thanks for bringing me back here, Sharp. Emerald. It’s been… you made this trip way better than it could’ve been.”

“No problem.” Edge smiled back at her. “Though if you don’t mind, Traveler… when you do leave, I would like that jewelry back. I may need it when your replacement arrives. One of those… ‘scientists’ you mentioned, yes?”

“Oh, right.” She hesitated, one claw on the edge. She didn’t remove the necklace. “How about I give it back once we get up there. You’ll watch me go, won’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Theo leaned forward, gripping the wheel with both legs, then started to walk it around in a circle.

The ground began to shake. Far away, she could hear the sound of ice breaking, stone rumbling as though her muscles were somehow invoking a distant earthquake. Little pebbles started raining down around them, and chunks of ice and snow fell away from between the huge pillars outside.

“To the top!” Edge called. “Rather swiftly, if we can. This doorway seems less stable than when I used it. Probably a good sign. Your hippogriff blood has activated it!”

Theo hurried out beside the others, scooping Emerald up from underneath as soon as she couldn’t keep up. They made it out without getting crushed, though bits of rubble and debris continued to tumble down from inside. Hold together until I get across, she thought, pleading with the doorway. Please.

They ran around the side of the ramp, leaving the sled behind. Emerald could’ve flown straight up, but of course Theo didn’t know how to do that. At least the little pony moved under her own power after a few steps. As she climbed, Theo could see a storm of wind and snow at the edge of the platform, despite the clear weather all around them. Wind whipped up at the trash she’d left behind, and scoured the stone clear.

Then her radio started to buzz.

“This is Barrow Observatory Station; come in Theo! God, you’ve got to be out there somewhere! You didn’t even leave the base!”

Theo stopped walking, snapping the radio off the strap and holding down the transmit. Her picture from before ripped right out from underneath, and was swept up in the wind with everything else. But she was too intent on the radio to try and catch it. “Corey, it’s me! I’m alive, and I’m coming through! Get ready for the story of your life!”

She was really running now, and for once even the ponies were having trouble keeping up with her.

“What? Whoever is spamming this channel with fucking birdsong, that’s a federal crime. We’re doing search and rescue, cut your shit.”

He can’t understand me, she realized. She reached around her neck, tossing the necklace back to Edge. Whatever the other ponies said next was lost on her completely as she raced up the platform in the sky. “It’s me, Corey! Corey, can you hear me?”

“Woah.” The radio fuzzed for a second, filling with more static. “Who the hell is that? You sound awful.”

“THEO,” she answered. “Listen, it’s a long story, but I can tell it when I get there! Just get me some spare clothes and maybe a frostbite kit at the observation tower.”

“Sure thing! God, you sound like shit. What happened?”

She was getting closer now. A crack in the sky, running straight up from the edge of the stone and up as far as her eyes would let her see. “Nothing you’d believe. It’s… incredible. The Observatory did something to the aurora. Opened up a… portal, I think. I know how insane that sounds, but I’ve got proof. I’m on the other side, and I think we figured out how to open it. I’m coming across.”

“Sounds like you’re on the edge of insanity from cold,” Corey responded. “But I don’t care. We’ll get you sorted, Theo. Just hold on!”

Thunder cracked from the edge of the platform, and from the cloudless sky lightning struck the stone only feet in front of her. Chunks of rock and ice exploded through the air. Theo’s world went white, and she was thrown backward, away from the portal. An earthquake shook the structure beneath them, with a sound of crunching gears and grinding stone. She landed in an explosion of powder towards the bottom of the slope.

The wind settled down, leaving no portal in the air.

Chapter 7: But it was Locked

For a few seconds, Theo stared up into the sky with abject horror on her face. She had been so close! Corey had even talked to her on the radio! It was all the proof she’d wanted to overcome her growing fears that everything she knew was a lie—that maybe she’d always been a hippogriff and every human memory was some kind of illusion.

Corey was the proof that her world was real, that the objects she carried were from a real place. That she was really Theo, and that the path back to her true body and world was reachable.

She could still hear the distant rumbles of shifting ice, back towards Sleighsburg. Snow billowed about her in the chill wind, and she felt defeated.

Emerald emerged from the snow, her body half covered with it. She said something reassuring, something that Theo couldn’t quite understand. Of course, I’m not wearing the necklace anymore. I can’t speak their language.

She sat up, brushing a little of the snow from her own body. She found that she knew what to do without thinking, and she shook herself out like a cat. After a few seconds of struggling, she realized Edge was approaching her too. He held out the necklace, muttering something as he did so.

She didn’t need to know what it would be about. She took the offered jewelry, wrapping it around her neck. The animal sounds he was making shifted through the spectrum and down into words she could understand again.

“—nothing that says we couldn’t give it another try. We came close! The portal opened. Probably we just didn’t configure it right. A machine as ancient and complex as this probably has intricate requirements to make the magic work. Don’t give up, Theo.”

“Right.” She swallowed, forcing a smile. “Right! It’s normal! Old machine, might just need… to be set up correctly, that’s all.” But even she didn’t believe it.

A few minutes later and they were back in the control room, under a bridge with plenty of new bits of fallen stone. She could only imagine the danger this would present to anyone who was here when it was switched on. Thank god we didn’t leave Emerald here. They were lucky that no debris had fallen onto the controls.

Unfortunately for them, this was a problem far more complex than just giving the device another use. The wheel refused to turn for her, no matter how hard they yanked together. Instead, when she got close, a delicate metal apparatus lifted up from inside, with a faint red glow coming from it.

“I think it wants something,” Sharp said, after a few minutes of trying. “And… I might know what it is.”

Theo dropped onto her haunches, panting and clutching at her chest. Her feathers and fur kept her quite warm, but working down here had given her sweat a chance to freeze. She was shivering now, and she wasn’t the only one.

“Shoot, Sharp. Give me the bad news.”

“This is about the right size for something magical,” he said. “I don’t know hippogriff society too well, but I know one thing about them. They use enchanted jewelry, kinda like what you’re wearing now. I think without it…”

“You mean… the battery’s dead,” Theo groaned. “We need to find a hippogriff, and somehow convince them to come back here with us. So they can use their magic necklace to power the portal. Is that… is that even possible?”

“Of course it is!” Emerald said, bouncing up in front of her. She’d been working just as hard under the bridge, yet there was only excitement on her face. Far more than she’d had when they left. She doesn’t want me to go. “They’re probably really nice! This old doorway thing is probably important to them, right? They’ll want to come here. We just have to… find one to ask.”

“We.” Sharp snapped his tool bag closed, tossing it into his saddlebags. “I make no promises about we, Emerald. The closest a hippogriff might be would be the Crystal Empire, if we’re lucky. If we’re not, we might have to go all the way to Canterlot. That’s a week by airship, one way. Winter Gale would strangle me for even suggesting it.”

“Not now that Summer is here!” The pony fluttered into the air, bouncing from one patch of snow to the next. “She makes it okay!”

Guess I invited that one. Telling her she could call me that name until I left. What could Theo do now, tell her to stop? The child didn’t look like she’d take that suggestion very seriously.

“If she was a pony,” Sharp answered, his voice low and almost embarrassed. “You know what she’s like. Just as backward and stubborn as everyone else in Sleighsburg.”

But Sharp hadn’t said “she has to travel,” he’d said “we.” He’s not abandoning me. Whatever sinking towards depression she might’ve been feeling dissolved as she heard it. The world might be strange and difficult to understand, but she didn’t have to fear it if she wasn’t being left alone. Sharp Edge was going to take her.

They stepped out into the feeble arctic sun, and she shook herself out again, shaking loose as much of the ice as she could. It helped a little, though the wind was still blowing out here, chilling her again. Maybe I should get a real jacket.

“Let’s focus on making it back to town,” Sharp said. “Theo, I’m sorry. I know I said we could send you back, but… I had no idea it wouldn’t have the energy. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening. I should’ve warned you.”

She met his eyes. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done already. I couldn’t ask you to… travel all the way to the ‘Crystal Empire’ for me.” But please don’t say you don’t want to, because I’m fucked if you don’t.

He reached out, settling one hoof on her shoulder. “I might not have to, Theo. But you are the reason I’ve been living in Sleighsburg all this time. Traveling together for a week or two will be an excellent opportunity to learn more about your world. And… having you around will be what gets me an audience with the hippogriffs. They’re notoriously territorial after the war, but… I bet with your help, we could even get into their city! Not that we should have to. There’s an embassy in Canterlot, and I know historians are always going north to the Crystal Empire. Should be simple.”

“Simple,” she repeated. “And… and you said the hippogriffs were the ones who built this thing! They might know more about humans. They might’ve traveled between worlds more.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “I could never get them to talk to me. But we’ll change that.”

Even with a much more cheerful Emerald, it was a slow, cold ride back to Sleighsburg. As the huge portal structure fell into the background, Theo felt a little like she was leaving her world behind. She had been able to send messages through that opening, but now… now she might never see it again.

Don’t start freaking out now, stupid. Sharp is going to help. We’ll get to the embassy, get help, and this will be simple.

Emerald sure seemed to think so, from the way she flew in circles around the sledge rather than riding in back with her. “This is gonna be awesome! I’ve always wanted to see the Crystal Empire! Mom will have to let me come with you there!”

“Your mother wants you to be a clerk, like her,” Sharp said, his voice sensitive. “She’ll think spending time with us would push you towards blacksmithing. She won’t let you come.”

Emerald landed on the sledge in front of him, glaring. “I don’t care what she thinks! Mom barely even works the counter most days—she just sits on the dock all day drinking spirits. She probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Edge just shook his head, giving Theo a look of desperation. She couldn’t help, though—she agreed with the little pony. Not only that, but having a child along would probably make things easier with Edge. Being alone with someone who smelled like he did and stood as tall as he did shouldn’t be so hard.

The trip took them back along the same path they’d taken, but to Theo she could barely even recognize any familiar sights. There were few trees, and stripped of those there were only large rocks and ice formations to use for reference. At one point, Edge stopped in front of a boulder the path wrapped around, nudging it with one hoof. A crevasse had opened under the rock, splitting it right down the middle. It looked like just a little shove would send its two halves careening down into oblivion.

“What could cause that?” Emerald asked, landing in the snow beside the opening and looking down. “That’s… deep. I can’t even see the bottom.”

“Sleighsburg is on permafrost, some of it ancient,” he said. “That’s why I chose White Hill for my house. I knew I could get into the soil that way. It couldn’t be…” He glanced briefly backward at Theo. “But I can’t imagine what else it could be. This looks like it was created by the Doorway. That earthquake… it might’ve gone all the way to the coast.”

“It didn’t feel that bad,” Emerald muttered. She lowered her voice to a whisper, glancing around nervously. “You think anypony saw which way we went? They wouldn’t… blame us, would they?”

As it turned out, they would.

Theo could see the mob gathered outside Sleighsburg before the squat buildings had even come into sight. Many of them held torches, spluttering dark things that hissed and spat with whatever they used to fuel them. There must’ve been a dozen ponies there, all of which had gathered up the most dangerous tools they could. Huge pitchforks, tridents, anything they could carry. All of them were calling for her blood.

“Calm down, everypony!” Sharp Edge stopped the sledge a dozen paces from the edge of the crowd, spending a few nervous seconds unhooking himself. He stepped forward, glaring at the two of them to stay put. “What’s bothering you? Surely it can’t be… anything to do with our guest.”

“Didn’t you feel it, blacksmith?” asked an elderly mare. She carried no weapons, and her eyes were swollen shut with age. Even so, she stood on naked ice without the help of a jacket. Ponies were sturdy creatures. “The shaking. It came from there.”

“We felt it,” he said, glancing between the members of the crowd in turn. “That doesn’t mean it has anything to do with us! Earthquakes happen.”

“Here, in Sleighsburg?” The mare’s voice shook with age, but there was confidence in her tone. “Never. We live in harmony with the ice, and it has always been kind to us. Can you honestly say she had nothing to do with it?”

Sharp glanced backward at Theo, ears flattening to his head. Maybe he planned on lying—but when he opened his mouth to try, nothing came out.

Theo winced, stepping forward beside him. As she moved, the entire village retreated, staring at her in horror. A few of them whispered insults, far angrier versions of what they’d said when she passed through town. “Should’ve given you to the sea,” “back where you belong” and worse.

“What happened that you hate me so much?” she asked. “Earthquakes are terrifying, but you all live so close to the ground. It shouldn’t have been that dangerous for you.”

The elder turned towards her, shriveled face taking her in for a few seconds. Maybe her eyes weren’t completely useless after all. “Sleighsburg’s trading docks have been on the edge of the glacier for generations. Your quake caused the ice to break. A few homes were lost to the ocean. Lives too.”

“Kill her!” someone yelled. “Give her what she gave Winter Gale! Into the deep!”

“No.” The elder stomped one hoof, turning to glare back into the crowd. “We are not like them. Ponies are better than that. The carnivore will be banished. This is the only way to send her evil spirit out of Sleighsburg. Nature will judge her for her crimes.”

“Winter Gale,” Emerald muttered from behind her, voice barely a squeak. Nopony seemed to hear her.

Sharp glanced between her and the crowd, eyes moving quickly. She could practically hear the gears in his head grinding together. “She has nothing,” Sharp said. “If we send her away now, she’ll die.”

Several ponies in the back of the crowd shouted things like “Obviously!” and “What she deserves!” Theo whimpered, feeling her forelegs nearly give out. Never in her life had she seen hatred like this in person before. And from the sound of it, she might even deserve it.

“What are you saying, Sharp Edge?” the elder asked. “You have treated Sleighsburg well in your time here. I will hear you.”

“I had already intended to take her south… to answer for her, uh… crimes or whatever. I need to take her to my home to prepare for the expedition. I swear we will be gone by dawn.”

“Why should we allow this?” the elder asked. “She deserves no sympathy after what she has caused.” More agreement from the crowd.

“Maybe not,” he countered. “But your granary is mine. Your grindstone is mine.” He fumbled in his vest for a moment, removing a bit of bent metal. Scrap, but Theo didn’t think they could tell that. “Allow us to gather our possessions and depart, or… I will destroy them.”

So maybe he could lie after all. There were more angry threats from the villagers, but the elder quieted them again. After a few more seconds, she nodded. “Until dawn,” she muttered. “If you are not gone by then, we will give her to the sea. It’s where creatures like her belong, anyway.”

The mob remained behind a few moments more, just long enough to give her their angriest insults yet. Then they left, leaving the three of them alone in the darkness outside Sleighsburg.

Chapter 8: So We Packed

Theo could barely lift her claws as she made her way into Sleighsburg. Here the earthquake hadn’t just torn up rocks and opened random holes over nothing—here the devastation was real and extremely pronounced.

There weren’t thousands of bodies littering the streets—there weren’t even thousands of ponies in the entire village. But there was terrible damage to everything she could see. Houses had come crashing down—sections of wooden bridge over ice had collapsed, and gaps had widened. Already makeshift repairs were underway—windows being filled in with boards, or bridges made over the gaps with a few planks.

How could the earthquake have been this bad? How did it reach this far? The energies required boggled the mind, yet the results were inarguable. And worst of all was exactly what the village elder had described.

The distant docks, with their little shacks and moored boats out on the water, were gone completely. Only ragged ice remained to mark where they had gone.

She wasn’t the only one having trouble. Sharp had needed to help Emerald back onto the sledge. The pegasus didn’t respond to promptings, and barely even seemed to breathe. Seeing her home so destroyed over something she had a hoof in was obviously affecting her. “No,” she kept muttering. “Can’t be. They’re wrong.”

But while the child might’ve felt a little bad about it, Theo would have to live with the nightmares. If this was the cost of opening the Doorway home, she wasn’t sure she could ever open it again.

“Why didn’t you tell me this would happen?” she asked, as they finally made it through town and reached Sharp’s workshop. Much of the mob hadn’t returned to their homes as she had initially thought—they seemed to be surrounding the workshop. Making sure that they couldn’t leave. “I wanted to go home, but… not if this would happen. This cost is too high.”

“It didn’t do this before,” Edge responded, pulling into the open workshop and gently lowering the metal door behind them. “What happened… that wasn’t natural. Maybe that’s what happens when we try to run the spell without enough magic.”

“Wait, you’ve opened it before? I thought you said you needed a hippogriff to work the controls!”

Edge turned away from her, and obviously spoke through gritted teeth. “Later, Theo. We have until morning to get the Horizon into the air and away from this place.”

He dropped down beside Emerald, his expression softening. “Hey, sweetheart. Is there… someone else I should contact? Other family, maybe…”

She shook her head. “Mom w-was… only pony I knew. Dad was a sailor, never met him. Grandma died before I was born. J-just us…”

The weight of it all came crashing down, far worse than any breaking bridge or splintering dock. The elder had mentioned the name of a pony who had died. Their names were all so strange and unfamiliar she hadn’t realized she knew it. Oh god. Emerald Aurora’s mother.

I got her mom killed.

She dropped onto her haunches, staring blankly out into space. Everything had made so much sense before—even on the trip back from the broken Doorway, there was a path in front of her. She could talk to a diplomat, she could beg for help. That all made perfect sense. But how could she live with herself knowing that this was the result?

The world blurred in front of her. She barely felt the cold anymore. She went back inside with Sharp, and dimly felt it as he helped her down beside a fire. Meanwhile, he rushed about, doors slammed, and he seemed to be working hard. What might’ve fascinated her before, she didn’t even watch.

“Why?” squeaked a tiny voice from the couch beside the fire. Emerald. “Why was she out so late? She should’ve b-been home. Shouldn’t have been… anywhere near the distillery. Said she wouldn’t drink so much. Shouldn’t have been there.”

She’s not mad at me? Theo reached out with one wing, instincts taking over. This child looked like someone had run over her cat. But clearly her assessment was wrong, because the pegasus puffed herself up, pushing out of reach. The only sign Theo needed that her affection wasn’t wanted.

“Hey,” said a voice from behind her, maybe an hour later. Sharp Edge looked worn to the bone—his mane was slick with grease, and he smelled more like a barnyard than he had yet.

Damn do I need to find a way to thank him. He could’ve let them banish me to the snow. He pulled that sledge all the way back, and he’s still preparing everything without us.

“Sorry I can’t give you more time,” he said, lifting the goggles away from his face. “I’ve prepared all the weight we can afford, including your things. But filling the gasbag is a two-pony job. I need you out there.”

She rose, following him out through the workshop. Many of his tools were missing now, she noted. But the front of the workshop was open, and standing outside it…

There was no longer a massive snowbank on one side of the hill, which she'd taken to be safety railing to protect the townspeople using the granary from falling off. But several large tarps lay crumpled in a pile, with loose snow everywhere. Not a snowbank at all, but a structure protected from the elements.

A set of brilliant work lamps lit the space as brightly as propane camp torches, illuminating a wooden object roughly the size of two Greyhound buses in a row, with a cabin and a larger top deck. It rested atop an old wooden deck, held down with thick mooring ropes. Above it was a massive pile of cloth, obviously a balloon. A set of heavy steel barrels had been dragged out, along with a heavy box with metal filings inside it.

“What’s… this?”

“The Horizon,” he said, tapping the wooden wall with one hoof. “Best little ship north of the Empire. I knew I’d be flying home when this was over, just like I flew in.”

He settled a metal container on the ground near the side of the ship, where the cloth hung down almost like a funnel. “This is how we do it. Bought this from the alchemist three months ago. Two hundred gallons oil of vitriol. Honestly I’d be terrified to store so much if it wasn’t for the cold. But… here it is, right when we need it.”

Theo glanced past the Horizon, to where the crowd of angry ponies had only grown since they arrived back. Doesn’t look like they’re going to be giving us until dawn. Good thing you got me when you did, Sharp.

“So what do we do?”

“Easy.” He gestured. “I pour the vitriol over iron filings, and they’ll make lift gas. And lots of other things.” He reached down, tossing a heavy mask with thick goggles over to Theo. “Put this on. And don’t stand close enough that it splashes you. We just have to catch enough gas to fill the balloon. It’s already anchored pretty well, so it won’t take off.”

Theo watched him work with only a little curiosity, far too worn down from everything that had happened that day to get too invested in what she was seeing. More pony magic? It should’ve been interesting, but after so many impossible things, what was one more?

Then she saw inside the barrel, and caught the faint odor of what was inside through her mask. Holy shit. She recognized that stench from the other side of a fume hood during her only organic chemistry class. This wasn’t some airy bit of fluffy horse magic—that was high molarity sulphuric acid.

She no longer had any confusion about why Sharp wore such a thick apron, or heavy mittens over his hooves. He lowered the barrel carefully, pouring its deadly contents into the huge bowl. The metal started to melt, sending a steady stream of bubbles up towards the surface—and out into the air into the funnel.

This isn’t going to be a short process, is it? Some part of her brain wanted to start making guesses about the acid in the barrels and the amount of iron in front of her, but that part of her academic self had shriveled up and died when the earthquake cut off half of Sleighsburg.

“You do this every time you have to fly somewhere?” she asked, after several hours of standing there. Her whole body was beginning to ache, but she fought back the discomfort. The mob was large enough that she couldn’t see the hill in places, and at times it seemed like the cloud of gas and the strange “magic” they were doing was the only thing that kept them at bay.

The balloon was holding itself at full size on its own now, rather than staying crumpled on the Horizon. But it still didn’t seem to have enough lift to get off the ground. She no longer wondered why they had walked so far away from his house—this thing was massive.

“Nah. You can buy lift gas in any city with a drydock. Crystal Empire, Canterlot, Cloudsdale, Los Pegasus… basically everywhere has tanks. Making it yourself is… for emergencies.” He glanced around at the house, whistling faintly to himself. “I’ll miss this place. Spent the last few years tinkering with it, but… it probably won’t be intact if I ever visit. Not after having to threaten them to stop them from banishing you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she hissed, barely louder than the frothing tub between them. She knew several dozen health agencies that would be furious at what they did once they were finished with one tub—dumping the entire thing into a ditch, then starting anew. God only knew what havoc that would wreak on any plants or ponies that were exposed to it. Is iron sulfide salt dangerous? She didn’t actually know, and she wasn’t going to use precious power on her iPad to check something so stupid.

“I did,” Sharp snapped, yanking the tub away and dumping it again. He replaced the iron in the bottom, then poured again. Smooth and mechanical. “I’ve spent years of my life studying the Doorway, hoping a Traveler might use it. What happened here in Sleighsburg wasn’t your fault. None of us could’ve known what the portal would do. I was here, so I acted. It’s the pony way.”

She rolled her eyes, glancing past Sharp to the gathering of angry faces. It didn’t seem to Theo like the pony way was all that friendly, even if there were a few exceptions.

Another hour or so on, and she was beginning to see the first hints of orange in the sky. The Horizon was straining at its ropes, and the last of the barrels was empty.

“We still have one question to answer…” he said, capping off the barrel and rolling it into the poison ditch with the tray and the degenerate iron salt. Hopefully such a foul-smelling patch of ground where nothing would grow would discourage ponies from exploring it. Even if these ones had wanted to banish her to the sea. “Emerald Aurora. Apparently her mother was her only family in Sleighsburg. Not… very good at it either, even if I never would’ve wished harm on her. She’ll have to decide whether to come with us, or… depend on their charity.”

“The charity of people who wanted to drown me in the arctic, because an earthquake happened at the same time we were gone?” She rolled her eyes. “Emerald wanted to be your apprentice anyway, Sharp. She’s better off with us.”

“Only she can make that decision.” Sharp gestured, and they hurried inside. With the sun rising, she could see the urgency. The mob was tired, cold, and angry. The closer to dawn it got, the greater the chance they’d decide to act.

But the pegasus they’d come for was asleep. Sharp nudged her gently with one hoof, where she’d curled up on the pillows beside the dying fire. She yawned, pushing him away with a wing. “Mom? Can I have five more minutes?”

Sharp winced. “Emerald, sweetie. Summer and I are leaving. If you’re going to come with us… now is the time.”

She stirred, stretching her limbs one at a time before rolling to the side and going back to snoring.

“Alright, spread out,” Sharp said. “I’m making a call. She’d want to come. There’s nothing here for her.” At the shouting from outside, his eyes widened. “Maybe… we should get a move on too. Before some genius among ponies decides to take a torch near the lift-gas.

Chapter 9: For a Long Trip

Theo emerged from Sharp’s workshop to see the mob had finally decided that she was out of time. They weren’t keeping to the edge of the hill anymore, even though there was no sign of the sun in the sky. Only a gentle orange light, radiating slowly overhead. But nowhere close to actually touching them.

There was no sign of the village elder this time either, just angry faces lit by sputtering torchlight and covered by half-frozen, half-melted ice. “That’s it!” called a voice from the crowd, loud enough that the figure on her back started to stir. “She’s ours now, by right! To the sea for what she did to Winter Gale!”

Several voices shouted their agreement, and ponies began to crowd in around the airship, blocking off any chance of possible escape. Theo whimpered, backing up a few steps and spreading her wings defensively. Not that she knew how to use them—otherwise, they wouldn’t have needed an airship to begin with.

“I’m not going to let them do anything to you,” Sharp said. “Stay close to me. I have a plan.” Then he fumbled in his jacket, striding forward towards the angry villagers. “That would be a foolish plan ponies! Don’t you know about the dreaded hippogriff’s curse? All tremble before it—are you truly brave enough to face it alone?”

A few ponies in front of her looked uncomfortable, retreating a few steps. Most didn’t seem so easily intimidated. “What curse?” asked a mare near the front of the crowd, her mane mottled and swept back from many hours by the ocean. “She’s already taken away our livelihood! The docks are gone, at least one pony is dead. How much worse could it be?”

“Yeah!” someone else agreed. “No empty threats, Sharp. You’re lucky we don’t throw you into the sea! You’re a foreigner too.”

“When I signal, run,” he whispered. “Get on the ramp, then kick it down and start cutting the anchor lines. The Horizon is ready for a quick ascent.”

“What about you?” she whispered back, voice harsh and afraid. “I can’t leave you behind with these… primitives.”

“There’s a ladder right there, see? Don’t worry, I’m the best climbing earth pony you’ve ever met.” Then he strode forward. “It’s said that the hippogriffs once mastered the sea! They still do, so far south they fall off the world. Pony ships that don’t appease them are swallowed by the deep. Do you really want to invite their wrath here by stopping this one from leaving?”

“Yes,” the mare said, drawing a carving knife from its sheath. “Nothing says she has to make it to the sea. They won’t know if she doesn’t get wet.”

Shit.

But before the pony could get any closer, Sharp slammed his hoof down on the ground. There was a loud explosion, and ponies retreated in panic. A huge cloud of smoke billowed in front of him, separating them from the crowd and making them scream and retreat.

It would have to be enough. Theo ran, keeping her back as flat as possible so as not to dislodge her passenger. The pony on her back was certainly awake now, watching with a few sleepy noises as she made it up the ramp and onto the Horizon’s deck. A little like standing atop a London double-decker, except for the heavy metal apparatus with its various connections to the balloon and the helm. But she ignored all that.

“What’s going on?” Emerald asked, hugging her scarf a little tighter about her neck. “Why is everypony so mad?”

“Because they blame me,” she whispered, settling the pony down on a padded bench near the helm, before hurrying back to the boarding ramp.

Ponies were already trying to climb after her, waving a pointed trident and a few makeshift clubs. Theo took one look at the ramp, then found the lever holding it up. She kicked it, and there was a loud thump, along with a few moans of pain and shouts of anger.

She didn’t have time to think about how upset they would be. Sharp’s voice yelled from below. “Cut the lines, Summer! Get us up!”

She might not know the first thing about aeronautics, but she could see the two lines easily enough. They had been thrown haphazardly over the deck, about evenly apart. She charged right up to the first one, and slashed at it with her claws.

From below, ponies banged on the Horizon. Sometimes they hit metal, but mostly it was wood down there. Wood that couldn’t take a beating like this.

Finally the line snapped, and the nose of the ship went violently upward. Emerald squeaked in surprise, taking off and hovering in the air. A few bits of silverware and boxes that hadn’t been tied down went sliding past her, smashing through the rear-rail.

Her own claws dug deep gouges into the wood, holding her in place like a frightened cat. But there was still the other line. She didn’t know how to fly, so she jumped. Theo fell, spreading her wings uselessly along the way and flapping like a baby bird. She didn’t fly, didn’t even glide.

Then she smacked into the taught line, driving the air from her lungs. She coughed and spluttered, lowering her claw uselessly towards it. Nothing.

“Any minute now, Summer! We won’t be able to take off with more passengers!”

She grunted, then nipped at the line with her beak. It snapped violently, flinging her into the covered entrance to below decks hard enough to crack the thin wood. The Horizon surged suddenly up, so fast she was held to the bottom of the ship. If they had any unwanted passengers, she didn’t hear them scream when they fell.

Time passed—she couldn’t have said how much. Eventually she felt someone helping her down the steps of the door she’d smacked into, settling her into a comfortable bed beside a tiny coal stove. There was already a tiny figure there—Emerald.

This time she didn’t pull away. “Guess we’re… leaving Sleighsburg,” she said, her voice a little dazed. “First time ever, huh. You think we’ll see the Crystal Empire?”

“I… I think we might,” Theo muttered, before exhaustion overtook her and she thought no more.

Theo couldn’t have said how long she was asleep. The bed of blankets wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world she’d ever been, but the gentle rocking in the wind was relaxed enough. There was another warm shape asleep with her, and that helped. It was like a fluffy nest, high in the clouds.

The smell of something familiar roused her, and she blinked groggily into a sitting position. The windows on either side of the large interior space were amber with late afternoon sun. Guess that trip really took it out of me. “Tea is waiting,” Sharp said, his voice gentle. “You’ll feel better with something warm in your stomach, I promise.”

The Horizon took advantage of ponies’ quadrupedal anatomy to fit two floors into a cramped floorplan that would’ve only provided enough room for one on something humans had built. Theo rose from what looked like the master bed, past a tiny restroom to a kitchen and dining area with windows overlooking the sky.

For a few seconds she completely ignored the steaming tea on the table in front of her, and was instead totally overcome by vertigo. There was nothing but clouds out there, clouds and a sky that went on forever. This was nothing like riding on some 737, with its pressurized interior and glass that felt like it could stop a bullet. She reached out, touching one of her claws against it and looking out into the void. There was nothing out there but clouds, and far below, an ocean thickly frozen over and with regular glaciers.

“Here.” Sharp offered her a cup, which she took in her claws. “Drink it. I’ve seen that face before. You need it.”

She swallowed, realizing the concoction was herbal—chamomile and mint, if she guessed right. She sat down on one of the cushions, looking out over the sky. Somewhere below, the Horizon rumbled steadily, a mechanical hum that was at once quieter than any airplane she knew, but also less regular. I didn’t see any sails. That must be the engine. The stairwell went lower, broken by a door with a rubber gasket. Presumably that meant the engine level was open.

“We’re just… walking around at altitude. Don’t you need special training for that?”

“Earth ponies do,” he said, settling into the cushion across from her. “I’ve been flying as long as I’ve been working steel. But you don’t, and neither does Emerald. You’re built for this. Most pegasus cities are at altitude.”

She sipped the tea again, wanting to argue with him. But her stomach wasn’t weak, and it didn’t seem like she was having any trouble breathing, so maybe he was right. “You made it in,” she said. “Sorry it… took me so long to take off.”

He shrugged. “No worries, Summer. I knew you weren’t a native. We made it out, and that’s what counts. I’m gonna… miss that place, though. No way my next workshop will end up as nice.”

She wanted to say something comforting, but couldn’t find anything. He was clearly right. “If I was rich, I’d offer to buy you a new one. But I’m just a computer engineer. Working through winter pays pretty good, but not that good.”

“No worries, Summer. Finding another Traveler has always been the most important thing. I knew it might cost me.”

“Another?”

But before Sharp could answer, Emerald emerged from the open doorway, rubbing at her eyes. “Is there any more of that?”

“Yeah, Emerald.” He pushed a cup closer to the edge of the table. “It’s another day down to the Crystal Empire.” He didn’t meet her eyes again, or show any sign that he was going to listen to her.

Emerald climbed up into one of the empty chairs, sipping at her drink. She’d left her scarf hanging somewhere, because it wasn’t around her neck now. “That stuff I remember… did it really happen?”

“Afraid so,” Sharp answered.

“Yeah.” She drooped, ears plastered to her head. “It felt real.”

There was an awkward silence then—even with such an important question burning a hole in her mind, Theo stayed quiet. Her actions had gotten this child’s mother killed, even if she’d been pretty lousy by every measure she could think of. Emerald didn’t seem to want to look at her.

“But there’s some good news,” Sharp went on. “If you’re still interested, it turns out I am looking for an apprentice. If you still want the job, it’s yours.”

Theo could imagine the way Emerald would’ve responded to that offer yesterday, bouncing off the walls with delight. But now she only sipped at her tea, nodding thoughtfully. “Thanks, Sharp. I’ll… think about it. I’m not sure. Everything was so simple before, but now… now I don’t know about any of those old ideas. Maybe they were all wrong.”

He nodded. “I know what it’s like to lose somepony close to you. If you remember any other family, if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be, I can get you there. It’s the least I could do, after…” He cleared his throat. “Well, Sleighsburg may not be happy to see us again, but even if you want to go back there. It could be arranged.”

Emerald shook her head. “N-no, I… it wouldn’t be back there.” She got up, pushing her empty cup aside. “Can I go onto the top deck?”

“Sure, Emerald,” he answered. “Just stay away from the railing, and don’t try to fly. I know it seems slow, but the Horizon has endurance that no pony could dream of. And the propeller on her underside spins fast enough to really hurt anypony who gets too close, and send anypony who gets into the wake spinning out of control.”

“Really?” She tilted her head. “Pegasus ponies never fly around airships?”

“We stop them first,” he answered. “And we shouldn’t stop out here. There’s a storm behind us, maybe you can see it. The arctic is… disobedient. No weather crews to stop it. We’re trying to beat the snow to the Crystal Empire if we can.”

“What if we can’t?” Theo asked, eyes wandering back to the window. She could see it now, the dark shapes looming on the horizon behind them. Clouds so massive that they would’ve dwarfed whole mountains. The sky ahead of them was deceptively peaceful. But were they gaining ground on the storm, or losing it?

“Then we go up,” he said. “Drop all our ballast, and breathe spare air until the storm passes. Let’s just… hope it doesn’t, okay?”

Theo walked along the length of the ship, back towards the windows. It didn’t look like Sharp’s hopes would be coming true.

Chapter 10: Up Above

The Horizon was many things. Sturdy, comfortable, and even safe. But fast? Not so much.

They couldn’t outrun the storm. As the huge black clouds began to close in on them from behind, Sharp called Theo to the door leading down, offering her a safety harness. “Get this on, and get clipped in. I’m going to act like you can’t fly for this if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said, shrugging into the harness quick enough. She still wasn’t sure about her body in this strange world, but she was getting better at moving. Besides, this was really just a few ropes to tighten into the right places. Once it was on, Sharp clipped her into a metal bar with a thick, elastic line just like the one he was wearing.

“I’m coming too!” Emerald declared, tightening the scarf about her shoulders and making for the door behind them. Sharp shook his head. “I have something more important for you, Emerald.”

That tactic seemed to work, far better than tricking her away. She stopped. “What is it?”

“Climb to the top deck, and work the helm. I need you to flip the altitude control all the way up—that’s the lever on the side. Hold it that way, and make sure we stay on our heading. Can you do that?”

“Yeah!” She beamed, backing away. “I’ll go straight there!” And she did, running up the stairs and out of sight.

“Celestia help us if she gets swept up in the winds—the poor creature has suffered enough to end up stranded on some storm cloud in the middle of nowhere.”

“Stranded on a…”

But Sharp didn’t stop long enough to answer her confusion, climbing down into the open engine bay. A massive boiler was down here, with a rotor overhead connected to the propellers on either side of the ship. There was also storage down here—boxes of tools from the workshop, a supply of coal. It was the floor that didn’t exist. The engine was so large that it hung out the back of the ship, providing a convenient way for the smoke to leave without filling the chamber with carbon monoxide.

Wooden platforms surrounded the engine on all sides, but directly below it was only empty air. The ship was open behind them too, providing a clear view at the oncoming storm wall.

It was so massive at this distance that it defied understanding, black and angry and flashing with lightning inside.

Then Emerald reached the controls, and they tilted violently upward. Theo lost her footing, sliding along the safety rail until she smacked into Sharp.

The earth pony barely buckled, resting a hoof on her shoulder and helping her into a sitting position. “Easy, Summer!” he shouted, over the roar of the engine and the distant storm. “Are you good?”

She blushed, then nodded. “I think I’m… yeah. I’ll be fine. What am I helping with?”

“I’m trying to push the engine,” he said. “Give us a little more speed. If the gasbag gets caught in those winds, we’re done!”

She shuddered, picturing what it might be like to fall out of the sky in a tight wooden box. That’ll be an embarrassing way to die. Why didn’t the bird fly to safety? She didn’t know how to use her wings.

“Right. Tell me what to do.”

Sharp seemed to know every aspect of the engine. It took him only seconds to get the housing retracted, and to make a few slight adjustments with his wrench. The propellers on either side of the ship roared to sudden life as the engine accelerated—and started to smoke.

“It’s okay!” he called, pointing. “We knew this would happen! Just… bring me that, yeah. I’ll have to cool the cylinders manually, or else they might crack. If that happens…”

They worked at a feverish pace. Theo rushed from one tool to the next, bringing them to the engineer in her mouth and not showing her terror. I’m getting out of this. I’m getting home. I’m not getting killed by some dumb blizzard.

There were a dozen ballast ropes here, all dangling bags of sand and rocks over the edge. Sharp cut them all, lightening the Horizon as much as they could.

“It’s a balancing act!” he shouted, working a knob that seemed to be wired into the ceiling. “Higher we go, bigger the gasbag expands! Too big, and it bursts. So we have to let out some gas. Eventually you just can’t go any higher!”

Theo watched, amazed, trying desperately not to think too much about what they were doing. She wasn’t sure about how high balloons could travel on Earth, and how high thunderstorms rose into the atmosphere. Were they doomed?

Apparently not in Equestria. The Horizon crested the edge of the storm, briefly digging deep gouges in the edge of the strangely-solid clouds. Edge flopped to one side, pointing up with one hoof. “That switch there, big red one. Flip it.”

She did, and the engines abruptly went still. There was only the sound of wind whistling around them. Through the open floor, the clouds roared below, occasionally lighting up with lightning. If they sunk even a little bit, those raging winds would tear them down and bash them into the icy ground.

“Now…” he was panting. “That box, open it. Bring it… here.”

She did, watching Sharp with increasing concern. He’d never seemed so frail before. What was wrong? She pried the box open with the crowbar, far better at it now that she was on her third crate. Inside were several metal canisters, painted green, with a tube and a mask on one end.

That’s right, he said he would need air! He’s not… made for altitude. She lifted one carefully, bringing it over to Sharp. “Here!” She offered him the mask, then fumbled with the valve. Pony tanks were made to hug a hoof and twist, but she had claws to grip them, making it a little trickier. She twisted until it reached the arrow etched on the tank, and she heard a steady hiss from the other end.

Sharp sat up, his back against the Horizon’s wooden shelves. “Well buck if that wasn’t close. Might need a few spare gaskets for her after that.” He closed his eyes, sipping on the hiss of gas from the mask as though it were a delicious beverage.

I guess I really was adapted for this, she thought, wondering if she should be breathing from a tank too. Maybe she felt a little lightheaded, if she tried to move too quickly. But she barely noticed. “I’m going to check on Emerald,” she said, grinning weakly. “Are you okay down here?”

“Yeah,” he said, after another few seconds of sipping from his mask. “I’ll just… recover for a bit. We can… do supper over the storm. Nothing quite so invigorating as danger.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed—but then again, there was something to be said for working hard beside a pony like Sharp, with the crushing destruction of a storm behind them and open air ahead.

She emerged onto the top deck, and was nearly blasted right off from below. She squealed in protest, but there was no more safety harness to stop her from slipping. She let her claws dig into the wooden deck again, catching her breath.

Emerald turned to glance at her, both hooves firmly on the helm and biting her tongue in concentration. There was no sign of altitude sickness in her either, except maybe her pupils.

The engines stopped humming, and the ship was silent except for the occasional blast of wind and the rumble of thunder from the storm down below. Even so, she moved slowly up to the helm. “Great job, Emerald. Sharp wanted me to get you. We made it.”

“I’ve been trying to take us higher!” She sat, gesturing to her leg still resting on the altitude lever, all the way up. “But we’re not ascending!”

“No, we don’t need to,” she repeated, calling a little louder over the sound of rushing wind. “Let’s level off. We can tie off the wheel and go below for dinner.”

Was she still upset at Theo for the news about her mother? She braced for anger at any moment, though the pony hadn’t retreated from her like before. That was a good sign, right? “I can’t believe we raced a wild storm!” she said, wrapping the control lines through the helm, so it wouldn’t turn to either side anymore, before following her down. “That’s the kind of thing they tell stories about!”

Theo felt quite a bit better about the altitude once the door up to the top deck was latched. The Horizon might be made of glass and wood, but at least she could pretend they were somewhere reasonably safe. The gasbag didn’t sound like it was going to tear the lines right off anymore.

Sharp was already sitting at one of the chairs, the tank of air resting beside him. “I hope I’m not imposing much to ask my potential new apprentice to cook supper,” he said, still sounding weak. “I’m afraid the exertion of this trip was… more than I initially anticipated.”

“No problem, Sharp.” Emerald saluted. “I had time to think during the flight. I do think I want the job.” She glanced briefly up at Theo, then away, wincing. “Is Summer our first mission?”

He nodded. “Advancing Equestria… has always taken place at the fringes. There’s nothing useful to be learned in the places that ponies already understand. That’s the land of bureaucrats. We’re on the frontiers—like Star Swirl of old. Summer is part of that.”

That’s not my name, she thought, opening her mouth to correct him. But then she saw Emerald’s smile, and the words caught in her throat. “I’ll make it for you too, Summer. Keep my new master from losing consciousness up here. I don’t think either of us know how to fly the Horizon.”

“We don’t,” she agreed, nodding appreciatively.

They ate in the clouds, letting the storm drag them along. “We’ll wait for it to pass before we descend, though we’ll want to do it slow. Trouble with dropping all our ballast like that is we can’t really go up again. If we land, that’s it. So we’ve got to make sure we land in the Crystal Empire.”

Theo nodded, finishing another hay cake. They were bland, but at least they were warm. “Maybe you can show me how all that works. In case we have to go up this high again.”

“Hope we don’t,” Sharp said, grinning weakly. He set the mask down every now and then, to eat or drink, though he kept it on all the time otherwise. “This air costs a small fortune. You won’t believe how hard it is to get bottled oxygen.”

“I’m guessing harder than it should be,” she answered, standing with her empty plate and taking it to the sink. The Horizon even had running water, though the tank was too small for anything more than a toilet and a sink for drinking and washing. “I might be able to help with that. It was never my field, but… I have a few things on my tablet. I’m pretty sure I remember how the liquid oxygen generator works.”

“Liquid?” Sharp shook his head. “We’re not dealing in magic here, Summer. I just need to breathe. But honestly, the Horizon doesn’t like being up this high any more than I do. Sooner we can get down, the better it will be for all of us. Feel that chill? I’ve got a full load of coal in the burner, but the air is so thin, and the cold out there is so… cold. Even pegasus ponies don’t stay at this height for long. Particularly foals.”

“I’m no foal, master Sharp Edge,” Emerald muttered, yanking his plate away in her teeth. She muttered something angry on her way across the room, but Theo couldn’t hear what it was. “I’m doing fine.”

She wasn’t. Theo could see the unsteadiness in her steps, the way she almost dropped the plate on the floor instead of depositing it in the sink. It was subtle, but she was pretty sure she knew hypoxia when she saw it.

When will I start feeling it, though?

“Looks like the storm is almost gone,” Sharp said, leaning briefly towards the window. “Come up with me, you two. I’ll teach you how to bring her down.”

Chapter 11: To a Crystal City

Theo was supposed to be helping Sharp bring the Horizon down—but instead of doing anything useful, she stood completely still, staring off the edge at what was below them.

They’re supposed to be primitive. A traditional village frozen in the north, with a few bits of medieval hardware in Sharp’s tower.

Everything Theo thought she knew about the ponies and their world shattered before her eyes as she got her first look at the Crystal Empire. Semitransparent spires as large as skyscrapers rose into the air ahead of them. A single spectacular structure at the very center looked like it might be able to rival some of Earth’s largest buildings.

She saw artificial light glowing in the buildings, saw the smoke of distant factories, and smelled a thousand different kinds of cooking food. Voices she could only understand thanks to her necklace all blended together as ponies lived and worked down in the city below.

One thing she didn’t see were vehicles. While the sky was thick with pegasus ponies in flight, often zipping between open balconies in the huge structures, the only vehicles she could see were carts and carriages with ponies pulling them. Maybe they don’t need them. They’ve got way more endurance than we do. It was definitely more of a European city than what little she’d seen of the US—everything was packed in close.

“Summer, are you done gawking?” Sharp shouted from beside her. “Down there, see that pony? He’s going to throw you a line. Tie it off on the thick railing sticking up from the side there. That’s what it’s for.”

Theo blushed, ears flattening as she hurried over to obey. While she stared at the spectacular city, the Horizon had come almost all the way down into the dock. There were dozens of other ships parked here, some of which made theirs look like a toy. But she wouldn’t think about that now.

“Ready on the rope, mate?” called a pony standing on the other side of the wooden platform, meeting her eyes. “I’ll throw if you’re on it.”

“Ready,” she said, staring at the rope as it hovered in the air beside him. The pony had a bony ridge protruding from his face, and it was glowing. This is a unicorn. They mentioned something about this.

She nearly dropped the rope, but her claws dug in tight, and she stopped it from slipping away. Theo was no sailor, but she could wrap a rope around a pole and tie it off well enough.

“There, that’s—” But the pony hadn’t stayed to watch. He didn’t seem to much care how she did.

“We’re actually here!” Emerald said from beside her, tightening her scarf on her shoulders. “The Crystal Empire. You hear stories about it, but…” She looked up. Now that they were on the ground, most of the buildings loomed over their heads. Occasionally the sun would catch one right, and she could see the dark shapes of ponies inside, doing whatever ponies did inside skyscrapers.

“It’s amazing,” Theo said. “Looks like… these buildings are somehow made from single pieces of rock. How did they get it up here? What stops it from shattering?”

“Magic,” Sharp said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. He was tucking something away into a satchel with his hoof—a slip of paper with official-looking stamps all over it. “Obviously. Though more serious, I don’t think anypony actually knows how the Crystal Empire was built. The old stories say the ancients grew their buildings, using the magic of their fellowship. But nopony remembers. That’s why the city has an earth district. Which… we’ll be staying in, unfortunately. Too many wealthy tourists from Equestria come up here. Unless you’re hiding a huge purse I didn’t see, Summer.”

She blushed slightly at the name, but didn’t argue. It was obvious how much easier it was for the ponies to say. Besides, it matched better. “I still have my stuff, but… I’m not sure ponies would be interested in trading for any of it. Better not.” Theo adjusted the saddlebags on her shoulders, freeing her wings from their weight. She was carrying all her human possessions with her at all times—she didn’t trust them to be left behind on this airship.

“Then let’s find an inn. Expect… maybe two days here in the Empire? We need to resupply for the trip south, and visit the library. I don’t precisely know where we can find the hippogriffs. Your tribe has never been terribly open with details.”

Theo followed him over to the plank bridge leading up to the deck, but stopped as soon as she reached it. Emerald had dropped onto the ground right where she had been earlier, staring off at the city between the rail with a glazed, distant look.

Sharp winced as he saw, pawing at the ground. “Losing her mother… I knew she was going to be like this. But how do you help a pony who’s…”

One of Theo’s eyebrows went up. Sharp always seemed so quick on his hooves, so clever. He didn’t know how to do something.

“Nothing can take it away,” she whispered. “The pain of losing a parent… stays with you. But we can distract her, help her move on.”

She crossed the deck slowly, so that it wouldn’t look like she was upset with the child. While she moved, she fished around with her head in the nearest bag. There was something there, something that might help.

By the time she’d reached her, she had the cube of sturdy plastic in one claw, hidden from sight. “Hey, Emerald.”

“Hey.” She didn’t look up.

“We’re going into the Crystal Empire now. Don’t you think it will look even cooler up close?”

“I guess.”

“I, uh… I think I’ll need your help with something, Emerald. Do you think you could?”

That made her look up, eyes widening a little. “My help? I don’t know very much, Summer. Less than I thought I did.”

Theo lifted her claw, settling the box in front of her. “Do you remember this?”

“That’s your… magical camera,” she said. “The one that makes little pictures come out the side.”

“Right. See… I would like to take good pictures of Equestria while I’m here, so I can show my friends back home. But Sharp might need me, so… I was hoping you would.”

“You’ll let me…” She reached out with one hoof, touching the side of the box as though she thought it were going to crumble away. “You’ll really let me use a camera?”

She nodded. “It can only print a few pictures, so we’ll keep them digital while we’re here—” And there wasn’t a hint of recognition on her face. Magical translation apparently had its limits. She tried again. “It’s a powerful spell, it can keep all its pictures inside. Whenever you take one, you’ll see it appear on the back. That’s how you know it’s safe inside. At the end of the day, I’ll let you pick one to print.”

Emerald squealed with excitement, hurrying over. Theo was dimly aware of a group of several professional-looking ponies waiting on the dock—service workers, by the look of them, waiting for them to leave so they could do their jobs. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel awkward.

Emerald’s mom was trash, but she didn’t deserve to lose her. From the look of things, Sharp was going to deal with them.

She explained the little Polaroid’s functions, posing for her so the child could take a picture. “Wow, you’re right! It’s right on the back! That’s amazing!”

“Sure is,” Theo agreed. “And there’s a strap, you can keep it on your neck like this. Then just… lift it up when there’s something you want to take a picture of. Just remember to switch it off when you’re not using it. Once that battery runs out…” She shook her head. “The magic will run out.” Unless I can remember enough of my basic electrician skills to wire a 5V 500mA charger using wire and string.

They clambered off the Horizon a minute or so later, with Emerald now scanning the skyline with a critical eye, occasionally lifting the camera and then lowering it again. Sharp nodded his appreciation, but didn’t say anything. Not where the child could hear.

“Earth district is this way,” Sharp said, pointing laterally along the crystal structures. There were a few transparent buildings out here too, but most of them were small, and they were outnumbered by newer buildings made of black brick. A few had been painted in pastels to imitate the rest of the city, but most of the bricks were left naked, to be stained with soot and snow and other things.

“Will we see the palace? I heard that anypony can walk right up to the Crystal Heart and see it for themselves!” Emerald said.

“Tomorrow,” Sharp promised. “I have to sell a few things today, to…” He coughed, looking away. “Finance this trip. We should be able to find some time to visit the palace. But we won’t be able to go inside, Emerald. We don’t have any official business.” There was a little bitterness in his voice, but he didn’t press.

The further they walked, the fewer crystal buildings she saw. Whatever else he’d said, Sharp was obviously right about the ponies of today not knowing how to build crystal structures. Dozens of brick and stone buildings were packed into a few circular rings, imitating the crystal city beside them the same way a sandcastle might imitate the expensive resort it was built in front of.

The ponies here had no fancy clothes, and most were stained with ash or grease from their work. Many of them stared at her as she passed, whispering quietly to one another. But they didn’t seem afraid or upset. If anything, these ponies seemed excited to have her there. But none were brave enough to stop them, and Sharp marched them right up to an inn.

As she followed him inside, she took in the old-fashioned construction in a single glance. Warm fireplace by one wall, old wooden tables, and a row of mailboxes beside a pegboard of keys.

She let Sharp deal with getting their room, while she and Emerald waited behind him. There weren’t very many others in the inn right now—a few sailor-looking ponies in one corner, sipping huge tankards and filling the inn with a musky scent far stronger and somehow less refined than Sharp’s.

“Do you think we’ll get to see the rest of Equestria too?” Emerald asked from beside her, voice tentative. “I always knew I’d get a chance to go down to the Crystal Empire, but… it’s so far away from everything else. They say nopony gets to leave Sleighsburg. It always pulls them back in.”

“I don’t know,” Theo answered, honestly. “We’re mostly here for the library. But we will get to visit the place Hippogriffs come from. Some kind of mountain, or… I don’t actually know. But it sounds like it would be fun to visit too.”

She trailed off, eyes widening as something across the street caught her eye. A huge glass window, unlike anything she’d seen in Equestria yet. Sharp was still haggling over prices—Theo wandered back out, crossing the little courtyard over to the storefront so she could look in.

Instead of being a dim, cozy space, this store was wide and spacious, with a wooden floor and tables spread in orderly lines. Lights shone from overhead, white and electric and familiar. Products were on display on the tables, with little price tags in front of each and ponies walking around between them.

How the hell is this here? She leaned in close, squinting through the dirty glass at the nearest table. That was no macbook resting on the table, but a silvery flashlight, with a wide grip and a strap to be used by a pony. The rest of the store was filled with similar things—little electrical devices, made to be used by ponies.

“Look at those prices,” Emerald said from beside her, voice wistful. “We used to make less than that in a month.”

Across the courtyard, she could see Sharp emerging from the hotel, gesturing for them to follow. Theo turned, shepherding the pegasus reluctantly back. This pony city was wonderful, but the more of it she saw, the more questions it raised. Who the hell copied an Apple Store in Equestria?

Chapter 12: Filled with Wonderful Things

Their accommodations proved to be nothing special, the same sort of housing she might’ve expected at any cheap hostel back in her own world.

She was a little intimidated when she saw that of the two rooms, hers was the one with two beds. Sharp had Emerald staying with her, without so much as asking.

But she didn’t voice her complaints. Just opening her mouth to try and explain it made her feel like an idiot. What am I supposed to say, that I shouldn’t let her stay in here because of something I’m not?

Besides, everyone was naked all the time anyway.

She didn’t actually leave any of her possessions behind though, not when they were everything she had of her human life. Sharp watched her leave the room like she was crazy. “Your… shoulders aren’t getting tired with all that weight?”

They were, infuriatingly. Though it had all easily fit in her bag when she’d been brought here, without the slightest difficulty. She still didn’t know if it was being female, being a bird, or some combination of the two. “I… don’t want them to get stolen. If I lose it… how am I going to prove I’m the person I’m supposed to be?”

Besides, she wanted to keep her radio with her at all times. There hadn’t been any transmissions since they visited the door, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be. For all she knew, Corey might figure out how to talk through it any moment now. Besides, the further away we get, the more we push the range on this thing. Had they gone further than fifty miles yet?

“Uh…” Sharp raised an eyebrow. “Hold on, I think they’ve got a safe at the front. We can lock it up for a few bits. Carrying all that into a library would made them think we’re crazy.”

As it turned out, they did have a safe up front. A few bits later, and Theo had left behind everything but the radio. She still felt nervous about it—but with Sharp carrying the key, she was about as safe as she could be.

Theo shivered as they left the hotel, as she was hit by the full force of an arctic breeze. How was Sharp not freezing?

Worse, he was looking at her as they set off down the path into town, with Emerald bouncing up and down with increasing excitement. “Why can’t we do the palace today?”

“Because we have to do the library first,” Sharp answered, finally breaking eye-contact with her. He pointed them towards a sidewalk, making way for cart traffic down the center of the road. The roads looked far safer to walk than anything on Earth, though there were still occasionally carriages and express carts with ponies galloping ahead of them as fast as they could. “We don’t know where we’re going, so it’s hard to buy the right supplies. Tomorrow we’ll try to fit it in after we know.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Emerald still had the camera, and she looked to be taking her job as a recorder very seriously. I wonder if I’ll need to dig out my spare SD card. “All the hippogriffs ever came from one place. I heard it’s a huge mountain city. Like Canterlot, but it’s rising out of the ocean instead.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sharp said. “But oceans are vast, and ports in the south are rare. If we were off by even a few degrees at this latitude, we could end up hundreds of miles in the wrong direction. We’ll copy a chart from the right book, then it should be a straight shot.”

Theo found herself listening less and less to what Sharp said as they walked into the city, and its spectacular structures rose around them. Only her occasional shivering could distract her from the music coming from street-corners, the smell of roasted crystal berries, and the cheerful greetings of ponies as they walked.

Sharp pulled them aside into a street that had been completely blocked off, and was densely packed with little stalls and vendors. “You two wait here a minute,” he said, voice almost artificially flat. “I need to… sell a few things.” He pointed across the street, to a wide fountain splashing full of clear water. “Wait for me there.”

Theo resisted her desire to follow him into the market only by reminding herself of just how big a favor Sharp was doing for them. He basically uprooted his whole life for me. The least I can do is be cooperative.

So they crossed, and Theo found a comfortable bench to watch Emerald as she circled and splashed in the fountain, chatting with a few other children and proudly showing off her camera.

Theo let her mind drift for a few minutes. As a result, she didn’t notice the pony approaching her from behind until she had taken the seat beside her. “Hope you don’t mind. Lot of shopping.”

Theo turned, and saw the pony wasn’t lying. They had half a dozen different bags on the ground in front of them, filled with various frivolities. Apparently this was one of the rich tourists Sharp had talked about, the ones who could afford to live in the city while they visited.

They were also a totally new kind of pony, one Theo hadn’t seen before. Like a pegasus, but with slitted eyes and wings made of skin. “You’re a bat,” she said, before she could realize how stupid that made her sound.

The pony looked offended for a moment, before pausing long enough to take her in. “Right, right. You’re a hippogriff… you only come in two tribes, isn’t that right? And they’re connected. I live in Canterlot, so I’ve seen several of you. You always visit your embassy before exploring the city. I didn’t know you had one this far north.”

Theo briefly considered some clever lie to give this mare, but dismissed the idea quickly enough. She sounds like she knows more about hippogriffs than I do. She didn’t need to lie to a total stranger in a park.

“I don’t know either. I just came to visit the library with my… friend.”

“Oh, I see.” The bat leaned closer to her, grinning conspiratorially with her fangs exposed. “You wouldn’t be the first one to prefer ponies. I mean… that is where you came from in the first place, obviously. Some griffon and some pony thought they would get along well together.” She nodded slightly toward her. “Clearly they have. And from the look of you, you’re even more compatible.”

Theo tucked her tail, ears flattening to her head. She probably would’ve laughed off something like that on Earth, but now… it was all she could do to nod, embarrassment making her face red. “He’s just a friend. Trying to help me understand Equestria.”

She struggled for something else to stop this pony going back to that subject, and her eyes settled on her shopping bag. One was blank white, with a single black feather in the center. You’re kidding me. “You visited the, uh… Feather store.” Seriously? “What did you think about them?”

“Oh, Feather. Yes, I suppose you would be proud of them. Hippogriffs already finding success in Equestria.” The bat bent down with her wings, lifting the bag up into her lap and removing something from inside. It was wrapped in paper and lacked any plastic parts, but there was still a familiar design in place.

“Take a guess what this is.”

Theo looked, and her eyes went wide. There was a speaker, a tuner dial, a coil antenna. “That’s a crystal radio.” They were the simplest kind, easy enough that POWs could make them from scrap material and empty toilet rolls. This had been made to a much fancier aesthetic, with a metal shell and traced wiring on a primitive circuit board. Like something she might’ve seen inside a 1950s radio, with thick metal lines on green silicon. The few resistors she saw would’ve been as thick around as bits.

But that’s way beyond anything else I’ve seen in Equestria.

“Nothing crystal about it, so far as I can see. But you’re right. Feather makes radios small enough that they’re portable—can you believe that? Listen to the EBC anywhere in the world. There’s an antenna here in the Empire, look.” The pony twisted a dial, and a light came on. A fuzzy, distorted voice came into focus.

“And we’re live at the Hoofball Semifinals, Trottingham vs. Crystal Empire.” There wasn’t much range to it, but somehow she guessed that was more the quality of the transmission than anything about the radio.

Her stunned reaction seemed to satisfy the pony, even if she hadn’t guessed correctly about the reasons why.

“It is incredible, isn’t it? You can buy more power sticks at Feather stores all over Equestria, anywhere that matters.” She turned it over, showing the back. Theo already knew what she’d see there—a little metal housing for a pair of batteries. Wrapped in paper, with metal only on the ends. But she knew a battery when she saw one.

“Does Feather have any… competitors?” she asked. “Making electronics like this.”

“Nopony can touch them,” the bat said. “I suppose eventually they will. But right now, they’re the best there is. Worth every bit.”

“Summer,” Sharp called from the street corner. “Summer, where are you?”

“That’s him.” She rose, nodding politely to the pony. “Thanks for showing me.”

“Of course, dear. Enjoy your visit to Equestria.”

Might be too rich, but at least she didn’t try to kill me. Summer waved a wing to get Emerald’s attention, then hurried back to meet Sharp near the street. His satchel looked almost empty now, though he was holding something on his shoulder. A little vest, in bright green that almost matched Theo’s mane. “I, uh… had a little extra, and you look like you’re freezing. Why not wear something that fits?”

Theo beamed at him, taking the vest and slipping it on. Emerald had to help button it up along her back, which it did with plenty of clearance for her wings. The cloth was dyed wool of some kind, thick enough to instantly warm her core. Didn’t help with her backside, but… she stopped shivering almost instantly.

“Thanks, Sharp. You didn’t have to…” She leaned forward, hugging him briefly in gratitude.

“Didn’t have to do anything. But it’s part of the adventure. Can’t change the world if you’re an icicle. Now… the library. I’m sorry to say it probably won’t be terribly interesting. But if it has the maps we need, that doesn’t matter.”

A library in an alien universe populated by quadrupeds with an entirely independent history sounded incredibly interesting to her, though there was still one persistent worry in the back of her mind. “Do you think I’ll be able to read anything there?”

“I…” His eyes lingered on her necklace for a second. ”Honestly Summer, I have no idea. Can you read the writing around the Empire?”

She nodded. “Looks like English to me, even though I know it isn’t. It’s… freaky when I think about it too much. But it’s not hard to just pretend it is and not look too close.”

“Then maybe some of them,” Sharp answered. He pointed down the street, to a particularly impressive crystal facade. “Lots of the books here will be useless to both of us. They come from the Empire’s past, and they aren’t even written in Ponish. Only a few of the locals can read it, the ones who came from back then.”

It sounded like there was an interesting story there, but Theo let it go. This world had too much of its own history for her to try and understand it in one day. She followed Sharp up to the library.

“Wait you two!” Emerald shouted from behind her, annoyed. “Stand next to each other. I want to take one of you together!”

“We can’t… right, it’s instant. Alright.” They stood close together, and Summer felt his leg wrap around her shoulder. She didn’t push him off.

Then it was up the steps and into the Crystal Library. I’m still coming home. This is just a little detour along the way, that’s all. Corey knows I’m alive. He’ll keep the rescue team working on it until I get back.

Chapter 13: Some Pieces were Missing

“I’m sorry sir. That volume is missing too.”

They stood together in front of the circulation desk, with a stack of white cards in front of them. Every recent map catalog that might be able to give them a heading to the hippogriff homeland.

The librarian was yet another creature that Theo could scarcely imagine existing, a being of strange transparent crystal with faintly glowing eyes. Granted, she could only see through the pony when the sun caught her just right, but… she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be up so close to them. It was easier when they were passing in the city far away.

If she needed a reminder that she wasn’t on Earth anymore, this was it. I probably shouldn’t worry about figuring this out too hard. I’ll lose my mind.

They had been in the library for hours now, while Sharp searched through the various navigational and informative sections. But after hours of finding nothing, they’d finally gone to the librarians for help. “You’re telling me every chart newer than five years is… either checked out or not available?”

The librarian nodded again. “I already explained it, sir. But we only have two copies. One is on loan to the palace, and the other wasn’t returned… several months ago.” She looked up from the thick stack of files in front of her, clucking her tongue once in disappointment. “Somepony is going to have a serious fee waiting for them when they get back.”

“And…” He shuffled through his stack of white cards, settling on three more. “What about these?” They were the books that should’ve talked about hippogriffs, discussing the developments in the south and the appearance of this new race in Equestria.

She shook her head again. “I wish I could be more helpful to you all, but… several of those aren’t on the shelves where they should be. And a few are…”

“Checked out to the palace,” Sharp said, his tone grim. “Fantastic, great. Do you know if there’s anywhere else in the Empire that would sell navigational charts, if we can’t copy them here?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. The Empire is the end of the line for shipping. I don’t know the details, but… you should try Canterlot. It’s the hub for all Equestria’s air traffic. They’re bound to have the charts you’re looking for. The Royal Library has a collection a hundred times the size of what we do.”

“It’s okay,” Theo said, tugging weakly on his foreleg. “We tried, Sharp. They’re obviously doing their best.”

He grumbled for a few seconds more, then finally let go and turned away. They walked back out the front door, leaving the sprawling library empty-handed.

“It’s absurd that they wouldn’t have charts to one of the newest, most interesting places in the world,” he muttered, dragging his hooves a little as they left. “It’s as though ponies just don’t care. They just sit by, content to stay ignorant forever. Most of them don’t even know how many times we’ve been in danger in the last few decades. They don’t know who the Elements of Harmony are, they don’t know how each of the princesses rose to power…” He stopped, glaring back at the library. “They should’ve had a dozen times that many books.”

“It did seem weird that it was only the books about hippogriffs that were missing,” Emerald said. “There were so many books on those shelves, but only a few weren’t where they should be.”

“Like someone took them out on purpose,” Theo whispered. She wasn’t even sure where the thought had come from. But now she considered it, she couldn’t get the idea out of her head. Someone didn’t want ponies to know about hippogriffs. Why, though? She didn’t have the information for that yet.

“Well, she was right about one thing. The Royal Library will have everything we need. They’re very serious about those who try to steal. There was a time you could go to prison for taking a book out of there. We’ll just… get into the air. I can get us down to Canterlot easy enough. It’s… just a minor detour, really. We’re still on track.”

Without the hours of research they’d expected to spend in the library, they had a little more time to be tourists in the city. They visited the Crystal Palace, stopping long enough for Theo and Emerald to gawk themselves silly at the incredible structure. They ordered street food, haggled for airship supplies, and were back at the inn by nightfall.

Theo slowed to a stop outside the Feather store, staring through the glass at the constant electric light within. Sharp stopped beside her, following her gaze. “Their gadgets are overpriced,” he said. “Don’t waste your bits. If you… had them to waste. Which you don’t. We can’t afford it.”

“It’s not that.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “This… this probably sounds crazy, but looking in that place reminds me of somewhere from home. Those gadgets, the way the store is laid out… it’s familiar.” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “You’ve been watching the Bridge for over a year, right? Have others like me ever come through it?”

To her surprise, Sharp looked away awkwardly, heading into the inn ahead of her. “No creature like you,” he said. “Never. You’re the first.” He remained reticent about the subject all night. Theo didn’t press, though she wanted to. I wonder how easy it would be to take one of those things apart. Is someone selling their e-waste to Equestria somehow?

The next morning began with bland oatmeal, and a trip through the icy streets of the outer city to the drydock. Sharp paid, and soon enough they were back aboard the Horizon, with the signs of new maintenance all over. There were fresh sandbags, the gasbag seemed packed almost to bursting, and some of the machinery had been serviced.

“Just a minor setback,” Sharp said, as he took the helm. Theo tossed the mooring ropes free, and they began to rise rapidly up. The spectacular city of crystals soared up around them, then fell away to the size of a toy over the next several minutes. “Just wait until you see Canterlot,” he said, a grin finally returning to his lips. “The Crystal Empire might seem more magical, but… Canterlot is more alive. It’s basically the center of the world. If we’re lucky, we might even be able to see Celestia raise the sun.”

“Which means…” Theo tightened the vest a little about her chest, but it was doing its job. Whatever strange wool the ponies made their clothes out of, they were warm enough that she didn’t freeze up here in the thin air. Granted, the wind blowing past them was enough to force them to raise their voices, even more so once the engines below started to rumble. “Raise the sun? Some kind of… Mass?”

They didn’t seem to understand that. Sharp looked to Emerald, and Theo couldn’t quite read the expression. Like they thought she was crazy. “Who raises the sun in your world?” Emerald asked. “Some… Traveler princess, I bet. Probably just a different name.”

Out over the edge, their airship was humming along now, leaving only a faint trail of exhaust. The engines burned something, though whatever it was didn’t leave much smoke in its wake.

“I don’t…” She hesitated. “What does ‘raising’ the sun mean, exactly?”

It was Sharp who answered this time, after several pensive seconds. “A long time ago, there was a court of the most powerful unicorns in the world who worked together to lift the sun into the sky in the morning, keep it on its path during the day, and replace it with the moon at night. But the skill was difficult, and their numbers were always dwindling—they lived such difficult lives that they usually died young. Then Celestia and her sister came around. No two stories about where are quite alike—but they took over the job. Now they keep the days and nights working right in the whole world. Every creature in every nation benefits, even those who live on the other side of the planet from us.”

“That’s… not possible,” she muttered, eyes wide. But even as she said it, the words seemed hollow. Not possible like a horse flying. Not possible like a magical doorway in the sky, that made her a girl and covered her in feathers. Not possible like a person made out of rock, or a magical heart that floated in the air and kept the city from freezing. Little of what she’d seen in the last week was possible, but it had still happened.

“I wanna see the princess too!” Emerald called, bouncing eagerly between her hooves. She hadn’t returned completely to her energetic self—whenever they stayed in one place for too long, her mood would rapidly darken. But so long as they stayed moving, she seemed to be doing well. “Just wait until you see it, Summer! It will make much more sense then.”

“We’ll try to stay for a morning ceremony,” Sharp promised. “We can talk about the scientific side after you’ve been there. I would be curious to hear how your world works. I’m guessing you don’t have a sun princess?”

She nodded her agreement, walking past the helm to lean off the front of the ship. She couldn’t get an unobstructed view above them with the gasbag, but below—she could almost recognize that wilderness. It looked like Canada’s highlands, the same country she’d flown over during her initial trip to Barrow. Only this time it looked even more untamed, more remote. There was no occasional village or distant road to break up the trees and tundra.

“No one does anything to ‘raise’ our sun. It’s just… the natural laws of the universe. Our sun has more mass than our planet, so our planet orbits.” And I bet you this place is exactly the same. You’re probably Egyptians or something without even knowing it. Sun worship.

But she didn’t want to argue. Sharp asked her a few more questions about Earth, and she explained with a brief recitation of Newton’s laws, and some not-to-scale sketches of their solar system. Primary school stuff, with as much of the underlying math as she remembered.

They flew for a few days, running the engines at low power and occasionally altering course to avoid a storm. As they flew, the snowy wastelands below gradually greened, with less and less white outside the peaks of the tallest mountains.

To her surprise and embarrassment, Sharp gave up his bedroom for the two of them, taking a cot of his own down to engineering where he could sleep beside his engines. How he could get any sleep with the constant droning, or the gigantic opening to the sky right beside him, she didn’t know. But she didn’t argue.

It was on their third day that they finally struck a patch of completely still air, over an evergreen forest broken with a stream and distant lake. Theo had been tinkering with a bit of wire and tools Sharp loaned her, and she nearly cut straight through what she was working on as the Horizon came to a sudden, abrupt halt.

Emerald’s head emerged from the stairs a moment later, peeking down from above. “Guess where we are, Summer.”

She glanced to the porthole, and could see only the pristine wilderness. No sign of civilization outside, certainly no city at the center of the world. “I have no idea.”

“The perfect place!” she answered, yanking on one of Theo’s legs.

She squeaked in surprise, then set her work down and let the child tow her towards the stairs. “Perfect for what?”

“To teach you how to fly, obviously!” she called, beaming. “Or at least how to glide. A bird on an airship who can’t even use her wings… that’s crazy. If I can learn up in Sleighsburg, you can learn here.”

They stepped out onto the deck. She turned to the helm, where Sharp was shutting down the engines. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “Her idea.”

“I’m not sure…” They stopped at the railing. Theo took one glance over the edge, then yanked herself back firmly enough to break free of the little pegasus. “No bucking way.”

The translated profanity made Emerald’s expression wilt a little, but then she took off. “Wait, we’re not going straight down first. I’m gonna go grab some clouds. Be right back!” And she took off, streaking towards a path of thick white in the near distance.

“You could’ve told her no,” Theo said weakly. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“More reason not to stop her,” Sharp said, crossing the distance between them and glancing over the edge. “If I can jump with a parachute, you can jump with wings. It’s not as scary as it looks.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s much worse.”

Chapter 14: And Some Were Broken

Theo’s claws scraped uselessly at the edge of the Horizon, staring over the railing at the distant forest. “Out of curiosity, Sharp… what’s our altitude?”

“About… two thousand feet,” he answered. “We could do ten times that if we wanted to lose some of our ballast, but I thought you would be more comfortable learning down here.”

“More comfortable…” she muttered. Out in the empty air, little Emerald was flying back, somehow pushing a cloud along ahead of her. It was several times larger than she was, yet somehow it didn’t break apart as she got it closer to the ship. She kept going straight down, making a wide platform maybe a hundred meters away. Except it didn’t look so wide when seen from up here.

“There!” Emerald landed on the deck beside her, just a little out of breath. She was still wearing the polaroid camera around her neck, though its screen was dark. She was following Theo’s instructions about keeping it off while they weren’t using it. “The first thing to learn is the glide. Our wings are… similar, so it should be about the same. Watch me, okay?”

Theo whimpered, turning her back on the open sky. “You’re… really invested in this for some reason.”

“Not ‘some reason!’” She stuck her tongue out. “We’re flying on airships across the whole world at this rate! What happens when you get blown off the deck? As Sharp’s apprentice, I couldn’t let that happen.”

Maybe she’s not mad at me anymore. It was enough to keep her involved, even if she wasn’t sure yet about actually doing any of what this pony was suggesting.

While Sharp went below to fix lunch, the two of them practiced on the deck. Theo could barely control her wings—sometimes they moved when her legs did, as though her brain was still struggling to figure out how to control them. Other times she couldn’t get them to do anything, even with intense concentration. But they were hers. After a few hours, she could open and hold them in the way Emerald taught, spreading them to catch the wind.

Sharp brought the table to the top deck, waving them over. “Made sandwiches! Better enjoy these veggies while they’re still fresh!”

Theo hurried over, eager for any break from her rigorous taskmaster. “Thanks, Sharp. I didn’t think flying would be such hard work.”

“You’re not flying yet!” Emerald sat down beside her, adjusting her scarf a little tighter around her neck. “I was fast, and it took me… at least a few weeks to learn lots of flying. But the instincts are all in there.”

“I’ve heard that griffons just push their chicks right out of the nest,” Sharp said, conversationally. “Either they fly before they hit the ground, or…” He winced. “They hit the ground. So every griffon can fly.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Theo said, glowering. “Maybe that works for birds. But I’m not really a bird, remember? I’m a two-legged alien from another world. One who’s terrified of heights and not too happy about jumping off an airship.” She glanced briefly over the side, at the empty sky on either side. The ground seemed deceptively close when viewed horizontally, but she knew that wouldn’t be the case if she got closer to the railing.

“We didn’t even get close to the edge!” Emerald argued, sticking her tongue out again. “You’re worried about nothing! A glide is so easy you really can learn it on your first day. Just hold out your wings and… well, keep them out. Worst thing that can go wrong that way is you end up landing somewhere you didn’t expect. I guess you might glide into that lake down there. But you can swim, can’t you Summer?”

“I can swim.” She finished her sandwich in grumpy silence. “Is this really normal, Sharp? Every pony with wings in Equestria can fly?”

“Almost all of them. A few grew up in towns without many of their own kind, and they end up taking remedial classes later in life. Seems like most of them enjoy it, though. You’re born for the sky; you don’t usually have to be forced into it.”

“Not us,” she said. “Humans fly all the time, but only once we’re safe inside our airplanes. Closed metal shells, pressurized for your comfort with meal service available along the way. Cross the continent in a few hours, or the ocean in half a day. None of this… being in the air stuff.”

“Then it’s a learning experience for all of us,” Sharp said. “And when you do return to the Travelers, you can teach. Though… I’m guessing you don’t have wings back home. Or you wouldn’t be afraid of heights.”

“If I couldn’t see Emerald do it, I wouldn’t believe wings like this could fly. Obviously I’m wrong about that, they work fine… but just because I know it doesn’t mean I believe it.”

“That’s why you have to jump,” Emerald said, pushing her empty plate aside and rising to her hooves. “Come on! We’ll do the drill three more times, then you’re jumping.”

“Into a cloud,” she said, unable to keep the sourness from her voice. “Which won’t even slow me down if this doesn’t work right.”

“Yes it will,” she argued. “You’ll just have to trust me. Aim for the cloud, but keep your wings open. If you get it, I’ll help you fly to the cloud. If you don’t, it’s right below us, and you’ll land on it anyway.”

Unless I miss, Theo thought. She swallowed, watching nervously as Emerald retracted the railing, stepping back from the newly opened hole in the side of the ship. There was nothing past her but empty air.

“Go on!” she suggested, spreading her wings to demonstrate one last time. Theo imitated her, feeling far less confident. “Now, when you step off, the weight of your own body is gonna smack into your wings. Hold them steady, as strong as you can. And if that doesn’t work… just fall straight, okay?”

I’m about to jump off a cliff because a kid said so, Theo thought, eyes wide. I have lost my mind.

A light breeze blew past her then, carrying with it the smells of pine and the sweet perfume of wildflowers far below. I don’t need to be afraid. I’m a bird. I’m meant to be up here.

She jumped. Theo’s wings spread, the wind catching her mane, and for a few seconds she imagined what a bird might’ve felt. The ground was incredibly distant, and she felt as though she was swimming in an invisible sea.

Then she realized she was falling. Her stomach fell out from under her, her legs began to kick and claw desperately at empty air, as though she could somehow hold herself in place. She couldn’t, and she began to accelerate, moving faster and faster. The lake wasn’t below her, despite what Emerald had said. “I’m going down!” she squealed, her voice echoing over the valley. “Help, Emerald! I don’t want to die like—”

She hit the clouds. Not “passed through on her way to her death” as she imagined. Hit like she imagined it would be to fall out of a moving vehicle during a car accident. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and her body spread out, scattering clouds all around her in an explosion of white fluff.

Then she wasn’t falling anymore. For a few seconds she just held still, her heart racing in her chest. Had her wings really held her up for even a few seconds? Or was that more of her imagination talking, trying to convince her that it hadn’t been as much of a failure?

Theo opened one eye, and saw only empty sky. She was sticking out of the bottom of something white and viscous, with her face and both claws poking free of the white. “Oh God, I’m dead.” As if she hadn’t been afraid of heights before…

Instead of kicking and squirming like she had while she fell, Theo froze completely still, not even a feather on her wings twitching. “Emerald, I… I’m stuck. And It looks like I’m about to fall. I hope you’re… gonna be here soon!”

“Yeah!”

The ground shifted beside her, and her leg slipped all the way through. Two huge chunks of cloud began to break apart, with Theo stuck halfway in each one. “Soon? Preferably soon!”

Something yanked her up. Emerald wasn’t that strong, but she was determined, and Theo was helping. She passed up through the crater she’d made, and landed on her back on something wet. It had to be snow, there was no other way to explain it. The fluffiest, most comfortable snow. Except it wasn’t cold against her skin, and it only got wet if she put too much pressure on. Theo sat up violently, and nearly fell off the edge of… a cloud. She was sitting on a cloud, much smaller now thanks to her first attempt at flight.

“See, what did I tell you? Clouds are great for falling onto.”

“I nearly fell though this one,” she pointed out, her voice flat, annoyed. “Look at that hole!” But even so, Emerald had been right about one thing: she really could walk on clouds. They could support her weight, and didn’t even seem to be losing altitude.

“I thought you’d glide a little better than that, but that’s okay.” She took off, hovering beside the cloud.

“Wait, don’t leave me here!”

“I’m not!” She pushed up on the cloud from below. “I’m taking you back to the ship. You look scared half to death… that’s enough practice for one day. I don’t want you to get so scared of flying that you don’t want to learn.”

Little late for that one, kid. She kept her mouth closed, waiting anxiously as the Horizon grew closer and closer beside them. Little bits of fluff on the edges of the cloud bled away as they moved, wiping away like little strands of cotton. But still, it behaved nothing like she’d expected.

“I’m actually… sitting on a cloud.”

“You’ve got wings,” Emerald said. “Of course you’re sitting on it. You’re not an earth pony. They’re so dense, they fall straight through.”

“That’s no way to speak about your master, Aurora,” Sharp said, though he was grinning as they approached. Emerald didn’t expect her to cross between the cloud and the ship, she just pushed off with her hooves and they smacked into the deck. The cloud dissolved as it hit, exactly the way she would’ve expected from a completely insubstantial wisp of moisture.

“I’ll admit, I’ve seen more graceful birds in my life,” Sharp said, helping her to her hooves. “But maybe that comes with practice. You said you’d never flown before, right? Now you have!”

“Straight down,” she muttered, adjusting her vest. At least it had stayed firmly on during her dive. “Just start us back up. Maybe I’ll feel more like practicing again after Canterlot.”

Sharp made his way over to the helm, and the engines were soon rumbling beneath them again. The Horizon accelerated to a comfortable pace, the wind whipping past her as it had during the fall. Without realizing what she was doing, Theo spread her wings wide, as though she were going to catch the breeze of their passing and fly again.

Maybe I’ll practice more flying tomorrow. If the clouds at the bottom were bigger, it wouldn’t be so bad. Landing didn’t even hurt.

But then she smelled fire. She wasn’t the only one—Sharp jerked away from the helm, looking behind them. Theo turned, and saw a trail of thick black smoke following them. After a few seconds they started to slow back down, and the billowing smoke caught up.

It was coming from the engines. “Emerald, on the helm!” he called, all amusement gone from his voice. “Summer, with me. I might need your help.”

Chapter 15: Things Got Worse

Theo ran below as quickly as she could. She couldn’t imagine what difficulty Sharp could possibility be having: his engines seemed to be assembled so perfectly, with an incredible standard of mechanical tolerance for something that had been built by hoof.

But as she opened the door to the engine room, she was hit with a wave of black smoke that sent her staggering back, hacking and coughing. Oh god we’re on fire. There was no mistaking that terrible smell, even from the top of the stairs. Theo had smelled it plenty of times before, though it had been some years since she’d been so close. Burning oil.

“Are you coming?” Sharp’s voice came from the stairs, strained and just a little terrified. “I, uh… could really use an extra set of hooves. Claws? Whatever!”

She held her breath, lowered her head, then charged through the smoke. Once she got through the doorway it wasn’t nearly as bad—there had been quite a cloud collecting there, and now that it was free to flow, it was more like a stream.

The engine room itself was filled with the fumes, collecting near the ceiling mostly. Flames emerged from the engines on both sides of the ship, their mechanical hatches opened and exposed. It looked far more like Sharp was trying to minimize the spread than to stop the damage at this point.

“Here!” Sharp tossed her a set of goggles, which she caught in one claw. “You’ll need these. Fires of Tartarus are burning in here.”

She pulled them on, relieved for the first time more than annoyed by how silly they looked. She wiped their smudges clean on one wing. “What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure,” Sharp said, obviously on the edge of panic. “There was nothing out of the Crystal Empire, I checked myself. Those maintenance ponies didn’t go in here, the doors were sealed. But… but as soon as I throttled down to stop and hover, something happened. I was watching you on deck, didn’t see until…” His own coat was already burned in places, with scraps of cloth wrapped around him to fight against the burns. For whatever good it did.

“Fire extinguisher?” Theo suggested. “How do you normally fight a fire in a wooden airship?”

His eyes were wide with desperation. He pointed to several large bags of sand on the ground, cut open. They hadn’t worked, obviously. “Used the whole water reserve. We’re still burning. There’s something in the engines I’ve never seen before. Normally you just flush, the fuel falls, and the fire goes out. But something in there is burning steel.”

I know some things that burn steel. What was worse, Sharp apparently didn’t. “We’ll burn,” she said, more for confirmation than to ask. “Right?”

He nodded gravely. “Engines hug half the body. We’re burning from a dozen places. Nothing I can…”

Theo looked back down through the opening, ignoring the desperate pony. There was something down there, something she’d seen during her flying practice. The lake.

“How fast can we descend?”

“Pretty fast, once the flames reach the gasbag,” he said grimly. “I didn’t call you to help me, not really. I wanted to ask… for you to take the filly and go.” He held out a pouch, half filled with golden pony currency. “Take it. Do what you can. Neither of you are strong enough to carry me. You need to get off while you can.”

“Keep your damn money,” Theo grunted, shoving the pouch towards him and yanking on his goggles. “We’re living through this. You too, come on. We’re going down.”

They reached the deck a second later, thick black smoke climbing up behind them. Sharp was in a daze, apparently too confused by his life burning around him to care about anything else. Theo had to jostle him again to get his attention. “Sharp Edge! Do you have an emergency vent or not?”

He twitched, then pointed weakly with a hoof. There was a bright red handle near the helm, with metal tubes going all the way up to the gasbag. “Opens it from the top. You can dump everything in twenty seconds. If you do…”

We’ll all die. Theo might not be an expert herself, or from any kind of practical career, but she knew a fall from a thousand feet into water wasn’t much better than hitting cement.

Theo turned, running from him to the helm. Poor Emerald hadn’t taken her hooves from the wheel, though she was shaking like she might be about to cry. “Summer? W-what is… Why are we on fire?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, pointing at the lake. It wasn’t quite below them, but close enough. Could they steer that much with the engines on fire? “Aim there,” she said, reaching up and yanking on the emergency valve. She felt the shudder from above her, the furious hiss and rushing wind.

They instantly lurched forward, angling backward sharply. Theo nearly lost her grip and fell out into the sky, except that her animalistic forelegs dug deep into the wood.

The engines. They’re the heaviest part of the ship. Now they’re bringing us down.

Bright orange now joined black from the stairwell. One of the windows below shattered as heat belched out from inside. Yet somehow Sharp Edge stood firm on the deck, almost unmoved by the tilt.

It wasn’t just the tilt, either. Beside her, Emerald was lifted right off the deck and into the air. She would’ve smacked painfully into the gasbag herself, if Theo didn’t snatch her hind leg by a claw, holding her down.

God don’t let this be too fast, she thought, desperate. But it was too late to change her mind. She’d never make it to the ballast to try and give them more lift, and she couldn’t exactly add more gas. All she could do was close her eyes and pray that they were falling the right way. Their path was wild and spiraling, leaving a black trail all the way down.

Then they hit the water. The impact was shocking enough that Theo was flung right from the deck, tearing through the helm she’d been holding and taking Emerald with her. She screamed once more, then her cry was lost in the roaring wind and water.

For a few seconds, Theo didn’t move. She was too shocked from the impact to swim, even to fight with her wings to stay afloat. She just sunk, the world growing blurry.

Then she felt something twitch from beside her. It was Emerald, kicking and struggling towards the surface. Theo finally moved, following her in a trail of bubbles.

She broke the surface of the water to a pond that was no longer peaceful. The Horizon floated in the water not far away, huge clouds of billowing steam rising from it. I guess being light enough to fly means they’re light enough to float.

But considering the other option had been dying, she wasn’t particularly concerned with the health of the airship in any case.

But there was one pony she worried very much about. Well, two. Once she saw that Emerald was swimming safely to shore, Theo went searching for brown fur. Sharp Edge had been on the deck, he wouldn’t be far.

And yet—Sharp Edge wasn’t there. You’re not dying on me today, she thought, gritting her teeth. Swimming on four legs wasn’t easy—but at least they weren’t in the high arctic anymore. Whatever chill the snowmelt brought, it wouldn’t freeze her to death before she found the pony who had just tried to get her to jump.

The Horizon wasn’t dramatically sinking away like the Titanic, as she’d initially feared. As she approached, she found it actually bobbing up in the water. The biggest obstruction wasn’t the airship sinking away, it was the deflated gasbag. The whole thing was rapidly soaking through, slumping into the water. The deck of the Horizon would’ve been fully above the water otherwise.

There, something moving! Theo lunged forward towards it—just another patch of flapping fabric in the pond. Was that a patch of brown fur? She had to go forward and find out, before…

Yes, there he was. It was right where the entrance to the lower deck would’ve been. Theo reached it, yanking sideways with all her might. When that didn’t do anything, she used her claws instead. Those cut through without too much difficulty—one cut, then another, and Sharp Edge broke the surface of the water, gasping and struggling for air. He was wearing saddlebags now, which he must’ve swum down into the Horizon to retrieve. They also weighed him down.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Theo asked, furious. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Sharp looked back at her with an unfamiliar expression—confusion? He must be dazed from the impact. Theo wrapped her claws under his shoulder, then yanked, spreading both her wings and using them to swim to shore.

It wasn’t far—maybe twenty seconds of swimming, and they emerged on a muddy beach. Theo let go of her companion, then flopped onto the sand beside where Emerald had climbed, closing her eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there, letting the water lap around her. She heard no explosions from the Horizon, so evidently her emergency extinguishing techniques hadn’t caused anything that catastrophic.

This isn’t the end of the world, she thought, trying to convince herself it was true. All her possessions were in that airship, and it was at least partially submerged. How many of them would survive? More importantly, how in god’s name were they supposed to make the trip to the homeland of her new species, then back to the arctic, without the Horizon?

Sharp is okay. Emerald is okay. That was what mattered. Her new friends had survived. Her plan had been desperate, maybe insane—but it had worked.

Better than jumping and leaving Sharp to burn to death, anyway. There was definitely sympathy for him there—the pony had been so shocked and pained by losing his ship that his only plan was “give her the money and die.” If she could land, then surely he could’ve too, right?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. The shock of her survival was wearing off, and as it did the other conditions came rushing back. The chilly water lapping at her legs and lower body hadn’t been life-threatening initially, but now she was starting to shiver. She pulled herself out, rising shakily to her hooves. At least being naked all the time meant there wasn’t anything to dry out.

“Well that’s the worst airplane ride I’ve ever had,” she said. “If you ever come to my world, you can see one of our airships. With 100% less crashing.”

"Uthini?" Emerald said, her eyes wide with confusion. "Kungani ukhuluma kanjalo?"

Theo’s eyes widened with sudden horror—she had heard that sound before. It was what ponies sounded like when she wasn’t wearing the necklace.

She looked down, eyes widening as she saw what she’d already known she would. It wasn’t there. Theo reached up, pointing to the empty spot on her neck.

She spoke slowly, even though she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. “No… magic,” she said. “Can’t… understand.” Even without a single word of comprehension passing between them, her intention was obvious enough.

Emerald hurried over—far less shaken than Sharp Edge. She leaned in close, staring at the empty place on Theo’s neck, then looking back at the water with panicked eyes. "Celestia isisiza. Ngeke sikubuyisele manje."

Theo couldn’t tell what she had said any more than she had—but her drooping ears and crushed expression were message enough. They were also exactly what Theo felt anyway.

It’s not the end of the world, Theo. Don’t try to solve every problem at once.

Their biggest problem wasn’t the communication barrier, it was shelter. They would freeze to death out here, that had to be taken care of. There was plenty of wood, and Sharp Edge had his saddlebags. Theo would’ve bet money the stallion had rescued survival supplies, if she had any money to risk. Unfortunately it was all floating in a lake.

It took Theo just over an hour to build a camp. It wasn’t that she knew very much about what she was doing—actually she knew almost nothing about it, beyond a single trip she’d taken with her family when she’d still been in the single digits.

But while the ponies in her company had been shocked into a stupor by their near deaths, for Theo it was only the impetus to act.

She was right about Sharp Edge stocking for survival—ponies had matches as it turned out, which was good since she probably would’ve frozen to death if they’d been stuck with flint and steel.

Once the heat of the campfire surrounded them, her companions seemed to recover—at least enough that they were speaking again. Just not to her. She listened closely, trying to make sense of what they were saying. There were a few words in there she was sure she knew—her own name and “pony” were clear, even if words in the alien language were hard to concentrate on even now.

I’m going to have to find that necklace before we go. Not that she knew how the hell they were going to get out now that their airship was under a few inches of water.

But that was a problem for tomorrow. Theo herself was running on steam—she needed to rest, before the mental and emotional exhaustion killed her. If any of my stuff is still intact down there, another night won’t make a difference. She would happily trade every tablet, flashlight, and radio for the translation spell.

She woke from inside a cramped tent the next morning, resting atop a pile of blankets that hadn’t been there when she went to sleep. Sharp Edge sat by the campfire, slowly stirring a large pot.

“Uvukile,” Sharp Edge said. His mane was a mess and there were bags under his eyes, though that was hardly the first thing she noticed.

I took it for granted that we could understand each other, and this is what I get. “I’m awake,” she said, climbing from the tent and shaking herself out. The morning was chilly, but the fire so close promised swift relief. She sat down on a log, watching Sharp stir.

"Ngiyazi ukuthi awukwazi ukungiqonda. Emerald wangena emanzini ukuyofuna isakhiwo. Sizobona lokho angayithola."

Theo’s frown intensified. There was exactly one thing in that entire mess she thought she understood—and even then, it was just a thought. “I’m, uh… sure thing, Sharp. I’m glad about… that.”

She waited patiently while Sharp finished cooking in the old metal pot—it didn’t smell particularly good, but she also was so hungry that she didn’t care. When he brought over a tin cup filled with stew, she ate every bit and even drank the broth. Nearly dying in an airship crash was hungry work.

Emerald emerged from the lake a few minutes later, dripping wet and dragging a large canvas bag along with her. Theo’s eyes widened as she saw it, instantly recognizing it.

This was where she kept her possessions, the only proof that she had a life before, somewhere else.

"Angitholanga umgexo, kodwa ngithole lokhu," Emerald said, dropping it at Theo’s hooves. “Sorry.”

Theo might not know what she was saying, but she didn’t really need to. She leaned forward for a hug, holding the wet pegasus against her chest for a second. “Thanks for bringing that up for me,” she said. “Is the necklace in there?”

Theo didn’t wait for an answer, just opened the soaked canvas and searched around inside with her claws. She lifted out the tablet, her radio, and a few totally soaked technical logs. I guess I’m already pretty late filing those. A few bits of soaked clothing, a hard-plastic case with a few electronics accessories inside.

She opened the box, removing the headlamp from inside and lifting it up onto her forehead. It wasn’t tight enough, but a few quick knots in the elastic fixed that problem. God help me if I had hooves like you guys.

No magic in the bag, though. Theo rose, patting the pegasus once on the head and turning towards the lake. “We can’t go anywhere if we can’t talk,” she declared, walking past them. She flicked on the headlamp into its brightest setting. “I’m going to find the necklace. Stay here.”

She waded out into the water, scanning its surface. This was just a pond, right? She could see the bottom in most places she looked. This wasn’t impossible. She just had to remember… where had she been thrown? She’d been able to understand Emerald right up until the moment of impact. That had to mean she’d lost the spell sometime after that.

Theo began her search. She’d never been the best swimmer in the world, but she was clearly better than either of these ponies. Maybe it was her many memories of heated pools back on Earth, or maybe it was some kind of instinct. She couldn’t deny her body resembled a fisher-bird.

Even if the water didn’t seem that cold at first, the longer she was wet the more of her energy it drew from her skin. She started to shiver, and still all the metal she’d seen were bits of broken engine.

It was at least an hour before she finally gave up, and let herself start to drift over the water. The pond wasn’t deep—she could make it to the bottom just about anywhere. Unfortunately the pond was at least a half mile across at its widest point, and almost as long. There’s no way I could search the whole thing… it’s gone.

What would happen to her in a world where she couldn’t speak the language? More importantly, could she even open the Doorway to make it back?

"Usuvele uphuma amahora!" Sharp Edge called from the water, gesturing for her. "Buyela, ihlobo! Udinga ukuphumula!"

At least some messages were easy enough to understand, even without magic to make the translation possible.

But she wasn’t going to listen. She ignored him, turning back down. She was fairly certain she’d narrowed down the general path that she had taken when she was thrown from the Horizon. If she only kept looking…

There was another bit of glittering metal down there, reflecting the cool white of her LED headlamp. Theo took a breath, and dove. There wasn’t much water, maybe ten meters at most, but that was enough to feel the pressure against her ears, and against her lungs. As she got closer, the darker water overhead seemed to practically close in around her, a constant reminder of just how close to dead she was.

Her claws closed around something metallic, and she pushed off with her hind legs. It was true she didn’t have a clue what she was doing when it came to flying, but she also didn’t need to for this. Her wings pushed off from the air around her, and that was enough.

She made it to the surface, hauling the bit of metal up with her. She held it out, squinting at it in the early afternoon sun.

It wasn’t a necklace, as much as she had wished it would be. It looked instead like something from inside the engine, thrown loose by the impact. It was entirely melted on one side, while the other half was just a pipe. She swore loudly, and nearly tossed it away. But as she was raising her foreleg to throw, she caught a glimpse of something reflective on the underside. A stamp in the metal, of a logo she’d seen before: a stylized feather.

She brought the chunk of metal with her to the shore, mostly because she wanted something to claim that she hadn’t completely wasted her time. She tossed it onto the ground in front of Sharp Edge, who was busy collecting cans and other sealed containers probably taken from the Horizon.

His eyes widened as he saw the metal. "Kungani ulethe ucezu ... oh." He stopped, turning it over as she had. She could see the recognition in his face, even if his words didn’t make sense. "Lokhu akukwazi ukufika lapha. Ngakhele injini ngokwami. Kodwa angikwazi ukucabanga noma yikuphi lapho kuyobe kushisa ngokwanele ukuqubuka kwensimbi."

Theo whimpered, dropping down beside the fire. Somepony had let it burn low in the late afternoon, but it was still warm enough that it was an instant relief against her coat. She closed her eyes, ignoring the conversation she couldn’t understand taking place somewhere nearby. Emerald sounded worried, though about what she had no idea.

It was nearly dark by the time someone jostled her, with another pot of not-exciting stew. She sat up, and drank the whole thing in a few quick sips. "Akudingeki uhlale ubheka, Summer. Kungakapheli sikhathi noma kamuva kufanele sishiye le nto. Angifuni ukuyeka ukubheka Horizon noma, kodwa ngaphandle kwegesi ephikisana nephethiloli akuveli kuleli gama. Ithimba futhi anginakho okuncane."

Theo watched him, willing herself to understand. But it didn’t matter how closely she listened, she still didn’t speak the language. “I didn’t find it,” she said, knowing that he wouldn’t understand any better than she did. “I’ll try again after I catch my breath for a bit. We can’t leave here without that translation. I just… I can’t do this. Living without knowing what anyone around me is saying.”

Emerald hopped up next to her on the other side, offering a wrapped bundle at her claws. Berries of some kind, fresh-picked. She couldn’t tell what they were, but the encouragement was enough to guess they were safe. She picked up the bundle and ate them too. They weren’t great, but it sure beat stew of questionable origin. She licked her claws clean when she was done, nodding with appreciation.

“Thanks, Emerald,” she said, patting the filly on the shoulder. It was the kind of message she hoped didn’t need a translation. Unfortunately it was also too dark to make much progress in her search. The water was cloudy, and only the Horizon was safe enough to comb through.

As she looked, it was obvious that Sharp Edge hadn’t been sitting idle all day. He’d removed the gasbag completely, spreading it out on the shore away from the water. The ship was also riding higher in the water somehow, its deck now totally lifted. But there was still water coming from belowdecks, and she had no confusion about why. The engine compartment had been open to the deck. That was why the ship hadn’t burned in the first place.

“I guess you didn’t find the necklace while you worked on the Horizon?” she asked.

Only confusion answered. "Asisazi ukuthi uthini, Summer,” Sharp Edge said. "Uma lokhu kuqhubeka isikhathi eside, kuzodingeka sithole indlela engcono yokuxhumana. Kufanele kube khona indlela. Amaponi afunde izilimi ezintsha ngaphambili. Nginamaqhawe amanga nawo."

Theo shrugged one shoulder, hoping that was answer enough to satisfy him. She would go back to the lake as soon as she got a little more rest. Maybe the darkness would make broken metal bits stand out more. She just needed to rest for a few more minutes…

Chapter 16: And They Got Lost

Theo woke the next morning—whatever her ambitions to keep searching through the night, she’d apparently been far too exhausted to keep working. She yawned and stretched, emerging from the tent a second time. As before, she had no idea how she’d gotten inside, no memory of climbing in the night before.

Sharp Edge didn’t leave me out in the open after I fell asleep. She would’ve loved to thank him for his help, except of course that he wouldn’t understand her if she did.

She rose slowly, wiping away the slime and dirt from her face. The Horizon had a hot shower, and here we are dragging ourselves through the dirt. If only she knew who was responsible for their crashed ship, maybe she could let them live in the dirt for a few days.

Edge wasn’t making breakfast this time—that duty apparently fell on Emerald. The pegasus was humming to herself as she worked, adding bits of carefully measured herbs to the pot along with a single can of some kind of grain. She looked up as Theo approached, waving a wing enthusiastically.

"Uvuka! Ingabe ulale kahle?"

Theo winced. “You didn’t have to stop singing. It was nice.” Even if she didn’t understand the words. She sat down, scanning the area around them for wherever Sharp Edge had gone. He couldn’t have gone far.

Another moment later he emerged from the inside of the Horizon, dumping out another huge bucket of water before dropping down again. What’s the point of bailing something with a huge hole in the bottom?

But Sharp Edge wasn’t stupid. He must be doing it for a reason. Now if only I could ask him what that reason is.

Theo ate, grinding her beak together at the awful repetition of mystery stew. This strange body might be able to digest the mostly-plant things they kept feeding her, but her brain was going to go completely insane. How long are we going to be trapped out here?

Theo rose to her claws as soon as she was done, tossing the empty tin cup onto her log. “I’m going to find the necklace today,” she declared. “I feel like I’ve already searched most of the pond by now. I’ll find it soon if just by elimination.”

She knew it wasn’t true even as she said it—she couldn’t guess what might be happening beneath the surface of the water, couldn’t say whether the necklace had vanished under the mud somewhere and disappeared completely from sight. But what choice did she have?

Theo waded into the chilly mountain water, only barely feeling the ice against her coat. If there was one mercy to her strange transformation, at least the body she had now seemed well-adapted to the water.

With the headlamp in place, she had a view that cut straight to the bottom of the murky pond. Theo watched the little spotlight as it moved slowly forward and back across the mud, eyes scanning for any sign of metal. The necklace hadn’t been particularly bright, but it should still reflect. Too bad we don’t have diving gear. That would make this way easier.

Theo lost track of just how long she was down there. She swam for hours, circling the same small patches of the pond so often that each sunken rock or bit of scrap from the engines was familiar to her.

There was something to be said for a methodical search, as much as she dreaded the requirement. Waterproof paper and a proper grid of the pond would let her be absolutely certain that she wasn’t crossing into areas she had already searched before in vain.

But she didn’t have a grid, she barely had the batteries in her headlamp. With constant use, she would probably only have a few more days of life in the thing before it finally went out too.

"Summer, ungabuka okuthile?" Sharp called, his voice seeming like it came from another world.

Theo blinked, looked away from her swimming, then saw the pony waving to her from the side of the Horizon’s railing. “What is it?” she asked, more by reflex than anything.

"Ulahlekile," he responded "Udinga ukuphumula ngaphambi kokuba uqhubeke ubheka. Usukhathala."

She shook her head. His pointed glances at the deck beside him were enough for her to guess what he meant. “I’m not leaving until I find it!” she called. “Just give me a little longer!”

Theo turned away, ignoring Sharp Edge’s concerned yell from just behind her. He yelled again, a little louder, and this time she turned back, sitting up again in the water. So long as she kept her wings spread, that was a near guarantee she wouldn’t sink. “Stop it! I don’t understand you!”

She glared at him, then past him to the low bushes on the shore, with their swirling cattails. There was something hanging on the edge of one, completely covered with dry mud.

"Uzibulala wena, Summer Ray. Ngokushesha kufanele ushiye."

Theo ignored him, swimming past the edge of the Horizon and over to the shore. She’d searched the pond exhaustively, confident that the water would wash away anything that got stuck to the necklace. But if it hadn’t landed in the water…

One claw closed around metal, and she dunked it down into the pond. There would be tarnished steel, more scrap left over from the crash. It would be another disappointment.

Dark silver metal with intricate etching appeared in her claws, the little symbols and carved bird figures of the necklace. Theo almost dropped it, she was so excited.

Instead she only slumped to one side, hugging it close to her chest and crying with relief. She rocked back and forth, not caring that she was smearing slime and mud all over herself. “It’s not gone… it’s not gone…”

Emerald landed in the shallow water beside her, her head tilting to one side. "Yini engalungile, Summer? Ingabe uzilimazile?"

In answer, she pulled on the necklace. She felt its familiar weight settle around her, so familiar that she had long since stopped noticing it. But she would never fail to notice it again, never take its magic for granted again. This was far more important than any Earth artifact. It was her key to not going insane.

“I’m not hurt,” she answered, wiping the tears away from her face with the back of one leg. “I almost was, but not anymore.”

Emerald grinned back at her, squealing with joy and relief. “Sharp, she found it! Summer found the thing!”

The pony appeared atop the deck of the Horizon a second later, looking in her direction with wide eyes. “She found what?”

“The thing!” Emerald took off, crossing the short distance to the deck and pointing eagerly back. “You know, the thing! You gave it to her to wear so she could…”

“The spell,” he finished for her. “The translation, you mean.” He waved enthusiastically. “I knew you would find it eventually, small as this pond is. We should come up with some way to secure it better in the future.”

He sounded so calm, so collected compared to the way he’d been a few days earlier. She could still see the emptiness in his eyes when he’d told her he was going to burn to death.

Theo wanted to fly over and join him on the deck, but she had to swim over normally. She kept one claw on the artifact with every stroke, not risking even some slight chance that she might lose it again. She made it to the edge of the railing, where a gate opened for docking or makeshift flying lessons. Theo climbed inside, taking Sharp’s offered hoof and clambering up onto the deck.

Sharp Edge didn’t wait for her to say anything, didn’t care that she was soaking wet, just leaned forward and embraced her. “Now I can finally thank you for saving my life,” he said. “I’ve been… wondering how I would tell you, as soon as you could understand.”

Theo didn’t pull away. She was still on the verge of tears, and even a slight perturbation might break down her thin veneer of calm.

“You’re, uh…” She blushed, ears flattening. Just because she wanted to be close to him didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed by it. “You didn’t need my help. I’m sure you would’ve figured it out on your own.”

“The only thing I figured out is that I need to start carrying a parachute.” He let go, however reluctantly. His eyes wandered to the blackened entrance below, with its streaks of flame and destruction. Theo hadn’t been inside the wrecked ship since they crashed, but she could guess what would be waiting in there.

“Do you…” She half expected herself to stop understanding him at any moment, or maybe for him to look so confused that there could be no mystery about how little he grasped. But her ability to speak in the pony language hadn’t been taken away. The necklace still worked. “Do you know how it happened?”

“Thanks to you, I’ve got an idea. Maybe missing some of the pieces, but…” He walked a few paces away, then removed a bit of metal from near the helm. It was the melted tube, with its feather company logo on the far side. “I think there was a… fire spell of some kind hidden away in here. I’ve never seen one delayed so long before without activating accidentally, but it clearly worked. When I idled the engines, the spell turned on, and…” He shook his head. “Some unicorn really didn’t want us to leave the Crystal Empire. A unicorn with magic I’ve never seen before.”

“Can I see the damage?” Theo asked. She still had a hard time caring about all this, with the relief of being able to understand them again flooding her so profoundly. But Sharp cared about it, and it was her ride too. “I might know ways that could happen.”

Sharp nodded. “You can swim well enough to look, that’s obvious. I’ve been working on the lower deck… it would be better than camping if we were stuck here long term while I made repairs. But the further I got, the more obvious it is that I can’t repair this. Those engines are bucked.”

At Emerald’s gasp, he winced, ears flattening. “Sorry, sweetheart. I… I shouldn’t use language like that. Anyway Summer, come and see for yourself.”

He led the way under the deck. Even with the ship not completely destroyed, Theo winced at what she saw. The beautiful stained hardwood was already starting to warp. Yet somehow, the lower deck seemed at least partially watertight. The windows were boarded up now, and the water was only halfway up her legs. Only a slow trickle came in through where the windows were. And with each bucket they emptied, the higher the Horizon would lift in the pond.

With one obvious drawback. They reached the stairwell, and Sharp pointed at her head with a hoof. “If you wouldn’t mind activating that marvelous little light spell, I think it will serve us here. The glowstone I’ve been using as a work light is running on its last spark, as you’ll see.”

Theo reached up, switching it on in its brightest mode. “Lead the way.”

Sharp backed away, eyes lingering momentarily on the headlamp. “That… isn’t a spell, is it? It’s an electrical torch… those Feather designs have little metal cones in front just like that.”

She nodded. “Electrical, yeah. More advanced than anything that stupid place sells. This one is waterproof, obviously. And the battery lasts for months. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the last time I replaced it. Might’ve been months ago.”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with batteries,” Sharp said. “But we’re getting off topic. As fascinating as Traveler technology is…”

“Right.” She followed him down the stairs, taking one last huge breath and swimming into the engine room. At one point, it looked like it had dug into the bottom of the pond, not far below them. There was damage to the open section, and huge clumps of mud gathered near the engine.

A little glowing rock hung on a cord in the center of the room, casting the space in dim amber. Barely enough light to see by for any useful purpose. Even the red setting on Theo’s headlamp probably would’ve overpowered it.

They didn’t have long. Sharp swam straight over to one of the two engines, its side panels now fully opened. The interior mechanisms were melted into indistinguishable steel slag, as though a god’s blowtorch had passed straight through from the outside using an extremely precise path.

That was about the point Sharp started running out of air, and she followed him back to the stairs. She surfaced just beside him, and waited patiently while he panted. Ponies weren’t nearly as good at swimming as she was.

“You see… the spell they used. As I said, more powerful than any I know. Steel is particularly resistant to magic, that’s precisely why it’s so useful. But whatever spell this was didn’t seem to care.” He climbed up into the living area, leaning against one wall and panting. “I don’t suppose you… have any insight?”

Theo nodded. “When I was in school, I learned about a simple way to cut through metal like this. It’s so easy we made it ourselves… and when we finished, we lit it on fire and cut straight through an old lawnmower engine.” She pointed up the stairs with a wing. “I wonder if that tube might’ve been filled with thermite. That’s, uh… that’s what it’s called. Or something similar. No magic involved, just chemistry.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Sharp said. He seemed to be mostly watching her headlamp—expecting it to go out, maybe? “That sounds even harder to turn against us than new magic.”

“I’m more worried about why,” she said. “Why would anyone care enough to try to…” She shivered at the thought, and the words would barely come out. “Kill us.”

“Probably weren’t,” Sharp said, bitter. “If they wanted us dead, they would’ve done it to the gasbag. All that hydrogen, way up there… we’d be feeding the fish in this pond right now. But they didn’t. I almost think… maybe it worked a little too well. Maybe they hoped to disable us, then take us in the air. But why… that I’m having a harder time with. We didn’t travel the Crystal Empire flashing bits on every street corner. The Horizon isn’t a luxury vessel, there isn’t even a cargo compartment. Anyone with the access to our manifest would know we weren’t carrying anything worth stealing.”

“What about this?” She tapped the side of her headlamp with one claw. “This, and a few more bits and pieces. Probably trashed now that they got wet, unfortunately. Most of my possessions aren’t… waterproof.”

She wandered over to the bed, splashing forward until she reached her saddlebags still hanging there. Emerald had emptied these when she searched the ship, though she’d missed a few things. Theo fastened them back up, then slung them over her shoulder.

She was silent for a long time, eyes on the deck. She didn’t want to ask, not really. She was perfectly content to celebrate being able to talk again.

But at the same time, her fear was too strong. “What do we do, Sharp? This… the Horizon… she was everything to you, wasn’t she?”

He looked down, knocking against the deck with one hoof. “Still is. She’s a sturdy old girl. Might be we can get her flying again one day. But not without a proper salvage crew. Those engines might as well be scrap metal at this point, gasbag is empty, we don’t have the acid or the iron to make replacement lift. And we’d need a bucking ton of it now that we’re so waterlogged. That means a professional salvage crew, and probably weeks of refitting at a drydock.”

She winced. Even without knowing the first thing about Equestria, Theo could guess “—we don’t have the bits for that?”

He turned for the stairs, then headed back towards the sun. “No. The Horizon was the last thing of real value I had left. Always thought I’d retire on her, when I got sick of traveling from place to place. Guess she… didn’t quite make it.”

“Maybe I can help you earn the bits,” she said, following behind him. “I guess the job I did before isn’t close to being invented here, but… there might be other things. I could… wash dishes maybe. Sweep floors. Crap jobs.”

Sharp turned, reaching up and resting a hoof on her shoulder. He held suddenly firm, preventing her from leaving up the stairs. “Summer Ray, I see where this is going. Whatever else happens, I need you to promise me you aren’t going to blame yourself for this.”

I’m not sure why I shouldn’t. I’ve got to be the reason we were attacked.

“I’m alive thanks to you,” he went on. “I would’ve stayed in that engine room to burn. As terrible as all this is… so far as I’m concerned, I’m the one who owes you. Don’t start offering to spend your life sweeping floors to pay me back. That isn’t how this works.”

“I…” She looked away. “I’m not sure it’s that simple. Maybe I saved you, maybe. But I’m also the only reason you were away from Sleighsburg in the first place. You’d still be there if I’d never showed up. And Emerald’s mom would still be alive.”

He let go, turning back for the stairs and climbing back to the deck ahead of her. “Responsibility is pointless. There’s no way either of us is saving the Horizon right now. We’ll just have to… hope she lasts, and that we can find her again. A salvage team might still be able to save her a year from now, if I can… somehow find the bits to pay them by then. Maybe the hippogriff embassy can give us a loan.”

She looked away, as much because she was still self-conscious as because he was as dressed as she was. If pony nudity ever showed its weaknesses most of all, it was in close quarters like this.

Emerald waited for them near the exit, watching the passage down with intense skepticism. Theo now had a guess about why she hadn’t salvaged all her stuff from down there. “Are we going to fly again, now that Summer can talk?”

Sharp shook his head once, visibly pained. “I’m afraid not, apprentice. The Horizon is… grounded until further notice. The engines can’t be fixed, and we don’t have enough lift to fly.”

Emerald winced at the news. Child though she was, she wasn’t ignorant about the consequences. “So… how do we get out? If we can’t fly…”

“We walk,” Sharp Edge said simply. “There are many pony villages across Equestria. I salvaged a map from the crash, and it says we’re only three days walk from a place called Agate. We should be able to ride a cart from there to Neighagra, and then a train to Canterlot. What happens after that…” He looked away. “Honestly Emerald, I’m not sure. We can’t afford to repair the Horizon right now, and travel down to the hippogriff city is expensive.”

“Master, you’re trying to fix every problem at once again,” Emerald interrupted him, raising a wing to shut his mouth. “How about we just get to Canterlot and figure it out from there?”

“That sounds…” He trailed off, then looked away from her. “Yes, I suppose that’s acceptable. There are a few more items I’d like to gather first. Preparations I would like to make to prepare the Horizon to winter here, if we don’t arrive back in time. It’s possible to modestly increase her chances. Summer, would you be willing to help me? And… maybe let me borrow your torch?”

She nodded. “Of course, Sharp. Just tell me what to do.” It sure beat searching the pond for lost jewelry.

They didn’t get on the road until the next morning. Theo helped Sharp Edge pack their saddlebags as best they could, though their supplies hadn’t been meant to last more than the length of the flight. “That’s why we’ve been eating so much of the local herbs,” Sharp explained, as they left the pond behind. “We didn’t know how far we had to stretch our food.”

“I did a good job finding things, didn’t I?” Emerald asked, beaming up at Theo. “My mom taught me to know the difference between what’s safe to eat and what isn’t. It’s, uh… one of the things I remember from her.”

“You did great,” Theo said, patting her once on the head. She would’ve praised her cooking skills if she’d given them cups of dirt, just then.

All three of them wore heavy saddlebags, the best they could manage to pack in their supplies. Sharp Edge carried twice as much as the other two of them combined. He didn’t seem to mind, or be the least bit slowed down by the heavy canvas filled with supplies.

“Will you be able to find the Horizon again when we… get the money to get a salvage crew out here?” she asked, checking the necklace with one claw. She’d come to checking to make sure it was there every few minutes, a single touch to remind her of the thin line between understanding and alienation.

“Yeah.” Sharp patted one of his pockets. “I made pretty good notations about this place. It wasn’t on any maps, but that’s a good thing. If we were closer to civilization, somepony else might take her for themselves. I can’t stay here to wait for someone…”

He was putting on a brave face, but Theo could see the pain under the surface. Sharp Edge had started out by giving away a precious artifact, then lost his home, and now his ship. What else could he lose? “I’ll make it up to you, somehow,” she promised. “I don’t know… but somehow.”

Sharp glared at her again, but didn’t argue.

They hiked through the wilderness, through lush evergreen trees never touched by New England loggers. Maybe it was just being half as tall, but the forests here seemed more like visiting the Earth’s past than visiting an alien planet. It was the forest primeval.

“Should we have a gun?” she asked, around their campfire that night. “It sounds like there are wolves out there.”

Emerald tilted her head to one side. “What’s that?”

Sharp sipped at his tea. “The translation spell hasn’t done that before. Curious.”

“Hasn’t done what?”

Sharp stared at the necklace for a few seconds, as though inspecting it for damage. “Could you say the word again? What is it we should have?”

“A gun?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “On the other side of the Doorway, I was working in a place a little like this. Nobody was allowed to leave base unless one member of the group had one. Wolves, polar bears…”

“Gun,” he repeated. “It’s not going untranslated, but I don’t know what it means.”

“Then you don’t have one,” she said, slumping back against the tree. “I was hoping maybe it was tucked into your saddlebags or something. But now that I think about it, I don’t know how you’d use it without fingers. It’s, uh... a weapon. It throws pieces of metal fast enough to kill predators.” And people.

“Oh, you mean a crossbow.” As he said it, his frown deepened. “Except those don’t sound the same at all.”

“It isn’t right,” she said. “Crossbows are… different. They’re from the middle ages, ancient primitive weapons that use mechanical tension. What I’m thinking of use the gas laws and pressure, and…” She trailed off. “You have electricity and chemistry, but not guns?”

“Guess so,” Sharp said, refilling his tea. He offered the metal pot to Theo, but she shook her head. She could only drink so much boiled pine needles. “Maybe we have fewer predators than you. Emerald, how big a problem were they for Sleighsburg?”

She shook her head once. “I think a polar bear visited a few years ago. She seemed nice. I remember my mom worried that she was going to eat all our fish, but after a few days she got bored and left. She didn’t seem that dangerous. Just, uh… big.”

What? Theo might not be a native to the north, but she’d met plenty who were living in Barrow. She had heard horror stories from the locals, of the bears that hunted humans for pleasure, then left their bodies to freeze on the ice.

“It’s even more pronounced in Equestria,” Sharp said. “I can’t remember the last time I heard of a pony being hurt by an animal intentionally. There are, uh… some places sensible folk don’t travel. Maybe we just stay away from danger?”

She sighed. There was of course a much bigger reason for having weapons, one that she barely even wanted to mention around Emerald. Whatever this planet’s history, she would’ve bet all the money of her winter paycheck that they didn’t have world wars.

But they’d almost been killed once. She couldn’t keep quiet, even if it would be better for the child if she did. “There’s another reason to carry weapons. We were sabotaged, Sharp. What happens if those people come back for us?”

He shrugged, though she could see his jaw clenching as he looked away from her. “Then I’ll ask them very politely when they intend to reimburse me for the damage they caused.”

So you’re not hopeless pacifists.

There was a long way to walk, and one forest looked much like another. Theo didn’t know for sure just how much walking in circles they ended up doing. Whenever they got turned around, Emerald could fly above the trees to look scout, comparing what she saw to the landmarks on Sharp’s map.

But the map was obviously nautical in purpose, and so it didn’t have the level of precision meant to guide travelers walking on the ground. They had to do an awful lot of trial and error. There were no other creatures on the trail, and true to Sharp’s suggestions they weren’t attacked.

It would be nice to live somewhere this safe. Just walk out into the forest without having to worry. But then, animal attacks were rare. They hadn’t been the real reason she wanted to have a gun.

Eventually, after walking for what felt like ages, Theo saw the first thin lines of smoke rising from somewhere through the tree line. It was Agate. They’d reached civilization at last.

Chapter 17: But not for Very Long

Sharp Edge grinned broadly as the first structures of Agate came into view below them. It reminded Theo of plenty of similar places she’d seen on the American northern frontier. Unlike her homeland, these people didn’t have a thousand years of history in the town.

The ample use of redwood logs and the local granite made the cabins seem almost like a charming little tourist destination, maybe a ski resort.

To say the locals were surprised by their arrival was an understatement. As they emerged from the trees, they instantly attracted a crowd of confused and worried ponies. “Where did you come from?” A gray-furred earth pony asked, apparently the only one brave enough to talk to them directly. “There’s nothing up that way for… two hundred miles?”

“Possibly further,” Sharp said. “We were traveling by airship. I mean no offence, but we didn’t intend to visit your town. We hope you’ll be able to assist us getting to Canterlot. Whatever the method.”

“We have a train!” somepony said. Theo wasn’t sure who exactly, except to know that they were a child. At least they didn’t seem afraid of her. The town watched her intently, but no more than they did Emerald or Sharp. Her experience in Sleighsburg didn’t seem to be repeating itself. “It won’t come back for, ummm…”

“Six days,” somepony else said. An adult stallion. “I’m the pony you’ll want to talk to about accommodations until then. I own the rental cabins in town. Visitors sometimes come out here to hike and appreciate the scenery, that kind of thing. I’ve got several empty if you’d like to rent.”

“We would,” Sharp said. “Assuming your rate is competitive, I mean. We do have supplies to camp if we need to. We’ve already been traveling far.

“They’re fair!” the pony said, though he seemed to deflate visibly at the remark. Maybe he thought they’d be an easy mark, and now he was disappointed. “Just two bits a day, no fancy city electricity, but we’ve got hot water now. Put the whole system in myself.”

You are not winning me over to this idea. But as worried as she might be, Theo kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t really her place to say, since she still felt this entire disaster was her fault.

It wasn’t just the cabins they frequented. The town had a tiny shop, with real food and prices that even Sharp seemed excited about. However remote they were, the abundance of local farms apparently meant they could replenish their food without difficulty.

Eventually they found their way to the cabin, and Sharp Edge shut it behind them. So far as Theo had noticed, there were no terrified mobs, and no ponies had stalked them to the cabin. I wish both engines hadn’t gone off at exactly the same time. It would be easier to think it was an engineering mistake than sabotage. People shouldn’t want to kill us.

“Dibs on the shower!” Theo said, hurrying over to the bathroom without even removing her saddlebags yet. “If I had to smell like campfires and trees for one more day, I think I might’ve died. There’s a reason I stopped camping when I was a kid and never started back up again.”

Nopony argued with her, and she locked the bathroom door behind her. The facilities were simple, not unlike rugged rental cabins in many a national park. But she hadn’t been alone for almost a week now. Even just a few minutes were a great relief. She stood in the hot water, letting it wash over her until the gray water went clear again. There was even more of it here than there had been on the Horizon, and no worry about running out. She stayed in the heat until her body started to go numb, and the single mirror was fogged so much she couldn’t even see her own face.

She could scour away the dirt of travel, and the more of it she got through the more like a person she felt. She might not be able to transform back into a human, or to replace her missing organs and return to her proper sex. But at least she could attend to basic sanitation again. What the hell am I going to do when I have to make the trip back?

Maybe if she came up with some get-rich quick scheme, they could use the money to salvage the ship and get back into the air. Trouble was, it seemed like someone had beaten her to the punch.

If Theo wanted to earn as much money as she could in this alien world, the best way would obviously be to “invent” some simple technology that Equestria didn’t have and sell it as widely as possible. But Feather already did that. And their parts were on the sabotage. That was so stupid as to suggest either an obvious plant, or simple ubiquity with their components.

They couldn’t possibly realize a human was here, could they? She couldn’t answer that question without knowing the history of Feather—maybe it was more a situation of constants and variables, and there was always meant to be an Apple Store in every world.

And maybe genius-designed engines spontaneously catch fire and melt themselves in flight, even though the natives don’t have any technology to do that.

“You about done in there?” Sharp asked through the door. “Not that I mean to rush… I know you can’t rush a mare to leave the facilities before she’s fully satisfied. But if you wouldn’t mind…”

He might as well have cast a spell himself. The comparison with a mare was all it took for her to jump from the bathroom, still a little damp around her head. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t have any clothes to wear, so she could let herself dry off naturally.

“There,” she said. “Thanks for…”

Sharp Edge was right outside the bathroom, only a few meters in front of her. He took one look at her and started to giggle. “I… had no idea you got that, uh… voluminous.”

What? Theo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at herself. She winced at what she saw.

At least she knew why Sharp Edge had thought she was so funny. Apparently her feathers hadn’t liked being in the water for such a long time. She’d been wet long enough that around her chest and shoulders, she’d expanded to twice her size, maybe more. The problem wasn’t as bad in back, where fur and feathers mixed more evenly. Even so…

“Well.” Sharp Edge looked away from her, clearing his throat. “If you excuse me, I’m, uh… it’s my turn.” And he vanished, hurriedly shutting the door behind him.

Emerald giggled, more innocently than he had. She didn’t seem to mind that she was still dirty, or that she’d been chosen last in line for a shower. She bounced up beside her, looking at the shut door. “I think he likes you, Summer.”

Now it was her turn to blush. Her ears flattened, and she turned hastily away from the bathroom, making her way back to her saddlebags. Her electronics had been largely disassembled, at least all the non-waterproof ones had. The batteries were all removed, where there was no danger of the circuits going live when they were exposed to moisture. She opened her bags, rearranging what was inside without any real purpose in mind. She just didn’t want to make eye-contact with the filly.

“That’s silly,” she said. “Sharp Edge is an experienced adventurer. He’s a craftspony, he’s an inventor. I’m just a… lowest bidder programmer who was stupid enough to take the night shift.”

“Yeah I dunno what any of that means.” Emerald hopped up onto the edge of the bed, propping herself up and grinning at her. There was only one bed—and unlike the Horizon, this one was clearly large enough that it could fit them all without difficulty, if they wanted to use it that way. There was no storage loft, or anywhere else tucked away for other people to sleep. Apparently they only rented to couples here. “But I do know Sharp. I’ve known him my whole life. When my dad sailed away and didn’t come back, he was there for me.”

“He has no reason,” she said again. There were other aspects of that, things that she doubted a child could understand. She tried anyway. “I’m not… like this normally,” she said. “I’m not a…”

“You weren’t a hippogriff before,” Emerald finished for her. “He knows that! We all know that! Just look, he doesn’t care.”

If there was one fact that stopped her from melting into a solid puddle of embarrassment, at least the shower was running again. There wasn’t a chance this conversation would be overheard. Little blessings.

“Has he ever seemed interested in anyone else?” The instant she asked, Theo wished she could take the question back, but of course she couldn’t, and Emerald knew it too. She beamed, apparently taking the question as acquiescence of some kind.

“I think so. But whoever they were, they never visited Sleighsburg. She was… you should probably just ask him. He didn’t really talk to me about it. I’m just his apprentice, and I wasn’t even that back in Sleighsburg.”

“I won’t.” She sat back, zipping the saddlebags closed again. “Sharp Edge has been nothing but wonderful to me since I arrived. I’d be lost without him… probably dead in the snow. But I’m not from here. One day I’m going to go back home. I’ll be my old self then, and then it won’t work.”

Emerald frowned. As young as she seemed, this conversation didn’t seem to faze her much. It was actually the opposite, like she’d been preparing for something like this for some time. “You still want to go back? Isn’t Equestria better than where you came from?”

Theo opened her mouth to deny it but found she couldn’t. She’d not had great experiences in Equestria so far—nearly being thrown into the sea by crazed primitives, nearly dying in an airship accident, having to hike for days to civilization. None of those had been terribly enjoyable experiences. But at the same time…

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, Emerald,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Ever since the crash.”

“Sure.” Emerald sat back on her haunches, looking down on her. Apparently she hadn’t noticed that Theo hadn’t answered her question. “I like being helpful! Having something to do is… good.”

“I don’t want to lose the ability to talk to you again,” Theo continued. “After losing this artifact, I realize it’s… probably inevitable. Maybe I’ll have to take it off again for some reason. Or maybe some evil person will go and steal it. However it happens, I… need to learn your language. I think it would be way easier to learn when I can put on some jewelry and instantly know it again, rather than having to figure something out after we lose it for good.”

“Oh.” Emerald looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “There must be ways to teach it. I heard about a griffon once, on one of the ships that visited. He barely spoke any Ponish, just did what he was told. There must be a way to learn.”

“We can figure it out,” she said. “Probably with Sharp’s help too. I think there just won’t be any shortcuts on this. I’ll just have to have the necklace off as often as I can and be trying to figure out what things mean. And maybe… we’ve got six days until the train comes. That’s enough time for a crash course.”

There was plenty of time for study in the next six days. However beautiful the landscape, however much her human self might’ve been excited about a hike somewhere the world wasn’t covered with snow, she’d had more than her fair share of nature in the last few days.

Agate didn’t present them with many alternatives—the residents were all completely devoted to their own professions. They had their own harvests to bring in, their own crafts to produce for the next round of tourist ponies that would soon be visiting from who knew where.

That left her group with plenty of time to themselves, time they could use for lessons in Ponish. Theo was better off as a European than she might’ve been if she were American—most Americans at the observatory only knew the one language. But she spoke three, and was comfortable with the idea of learning more.

Unfortunately for her, there was nothing she could carry over from her comparative linguistic flexibility with a single broader family of human languages. Pony speech came from an entirely different lineage. The sounds weren’t just strange, but even when the words were familiar by accident there was no relation in meaning that would allow her to intuit what things meant. It was like learning an Eastern language, but even harder, since at least the minds that had invented Chinese were fellow humans and had the same mouths.

Theo tried anyway, memorizing for as long each day as her companions had the patience to teach. But while Sharp Edge was good with many things, he wasn’t meant to be a teacher, and could only sit still repeating the same phrases for so long before he had to wander off and do something. Emerald was better, though she was still a child. Theo wrote down what she could, repeating phrases over and over to get her pronunciation right.

By the time six days had passed, she was confident enough with the basic repertoire of what tourists would often learn. If she needed to ask where the bathroom was in any pony city she visited, she had that one on lock.

Eventually the train did arrive, at not so much a station as a slightly raised platform with a coal bunker and a water tower. They bought their tickets, then passed a bewildered engineer on their way in. “I didn’t leave you here,” the elderly pegasus said, stamping their tickets in turn. “This is the end of the line.”

“Yeah,” Sharp Edge agreed. “We were stranded here, but now thanks to you we’re not. Celestia thank whoever planned your route to go so far north.”

The engineer shrugged but didn’t press. There was no conductor, or any other passengers. A handful had left the pair of passenger cars before them, probably destined for the same rental cabins they had left behind.

Agate faded slowly into the distance, Theo watching from the window as they rolled cautiously down an unsteady mountain track.

There was something wonderful about having an entire passenger car to themselves—lots of space for Emerald to run around in, or for them to talk about anything they wanted without being overheard. “Well, they didn’t try to drown me in the sea,” Theo said, watching out the caboose window. “I call that an absolute win.”

“If it makes you feel any better, they wanted to throw me in too after I helped you,” Sharp said. “And I’d actually die. You probably wouldn’t.”

“Uh…” She looked away from the tiny wooden cabins, raising an eyebrow. “I’m an okay swimmer, I don’t think I’d do very well in water just a degree or two above freezing. Actually… wait, it’s often lower up here. The salt keeps it liquid a bit colder. Do I look Finnish to you? Or Icelandic?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Sharp answered. “But you look like a hippogriff. At some point you’d change into a seapony and escape, wouldn’t you?”

Theo’s eyebrows went up a little higher. “I would… what?”

Emerald landed beside her, sipping on something. Theo looked down and saw a juice-box in her grip, or some pony equivalent. Apparently the train had refreshments. “Summer doesn’t know, master. Travelers must not have more than one form. Which I guess means they’re like ponies?” She leaned past Theo, holding up the square camera and snapping a photo of the village as it vanished into the distance. Unlike most of Theo’s gear, the camera was meant to be waterproof, rather than depending on good luck and desiccants to get it working again.

“Right.” Sharp sat back in his seat, blushing slightly. “Forgive me. Sometimes you seem so… I forget you’re not from around here. But the ability is there. Everypony knows seaponies and hippogriffs are the same thing. That’s how you survived the Storm King. Your city was under the ocean. When you went looking for the necklace, I assumed we were seeing a version of those powers. You were so good in the water…” Then he trailed off, ears flattening.

Theo didn’t much want to think about what Edge must be. “There’s nothing magical about being able to swim. You two can do it too. Everyone I know learned how to swim. Compared to some of the places I’ve practiced, that pond was balmy. No glacial runoff feeding it.”

“I dunno, Summer. You were better than us. You probably just don’t know how to use your powers yet. Maybe the hippogriffs can teach you when we get to Canterlot.”

“I’d rather they just show me how to use the door,” she said. “And maybe… if they’re feeling generous, maybe pay for a new ship for Sharp. That would be good.”

“I told you not to worry about that.” Sharp rose from his seat, turning his back on Theo and going to the refreshment table. He returned a few moments later with a plate of dried fruit, setting it down on the empty seat between them. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Theo reached over and stole a few dried strawberries, chewing thoughtfully. “Don’t call it owing then. I just want to help. But I’m thinking we won’t need handouts if we’re really determined. Have you ever seen Star Trek Ent—that’s the stupidest question I’ve asked today.”

“You’re not stupid,” Emerald said, settling down beside her and nuzzling her leg. “Don’t say things like that, Summer.” Then she hesitated sipping at her juice-box until it made that characteristic empty-sound. “What’s a star trek?”

Sharp Edge nodded, apparently agreeing the question required an immediate answer. Theo’s ears flattened, and she pawed at the chair, looking away. How could she explain what she was thinking without confusing them?

“There are things my world has that yours doesn’t. If I needed bits for something, I would try to use that. Come up with something your world could really use, but you don’t have yet.” She sat back, considering some of the things she’d been thinking. “Trouble is, most of the stuff I know best is… useless to you. You haven’t even invented the technologies that would let you invent the technologies that I could help you invent.”

“That’s confusing.” Emerald rolled her eyes. “I’m getting more apple juice.”

Theo reached into her saddlebags down on the floor, removing the notebook she’d bought from the Agate store and flipping through it. “I had to guess on some of this stuff, so you should tell me if any of this sounds stupid, or you already have it. We talked about guns before, but… maybe we’ll skip that one.” She flipped to the next page. “You probably already have industrial steel, don’t you? Railroads use so much of it they wouldn’t be sustainable otherwise. You know how to extract the carbon from iron and dope it to exactly the percentage you want?”

Sharp Edge’s eyes widened. “You’re… a blacksmith? All this time when you spoke of your work, you seemed more like an… arcanist. Or maybe a thaumaturge, designing spells. Yes, we know how to cast steel, and forge it. There are factories in Equestria that make thousands of tons of it now, that’s how cities like Manehattan are built. Skyscrapers take stronger stuff than bricks to keep them upright.”

“Right, yeah.” She flipped that page. “What about water diseases? Do ponies get dysentery?”

He winced at the sound, looking away. “They used to. You’re talking about sanitation now? Just how much do you know?”

“A little of everything,” she said. “My tablet had thousands of books, but I’m not sure I can get it to start up again. And unfortunately a little of everything is worth just as much, so it won’t help. Most of history’s biggest inventions had direct industrial application. I don’t really know how ponies do things outside of little villages in the middle of nowhere. Of course they don’t do things the same way. Who’s surprised by that? And the Crystal Empire… we don’t have anything like that.”

She flipped the page over. “What about airships? The Horizon, would you say she was advanced?”

“Better than anything in the royal fleet,” he answered, a little defensively. “Her engines were one of a kind. I’ll… have to retrieve my technical drawings from my family’s property in Fillydelphia if I plan on building them again.”

“Do you think ponies would be interested in building ships that can travel a hundred times as fast? Or a thousand times as fast?”

Sharp Edge burst out laughing. “At full burn, the Horizon could break 100 kilometers per hour. She could outpace this train we’re in, and all but the fastest pegasi. She was already more advanced than anything in Equestria.”

“Oh, good!” Theo turned the paper over, holding up the pad. “I built one of these for a high school engineering project. Mine had some issues, but… this was before I knew I was going into CS.”

Edge whistled, pulling the engine up close and looking it over. “Celestia above this thing is complicated. What is it?”

“It’s a high-bypass turbofan engine. An airship propelled by one of these should be able to reach speeds of…” She hesitated. The Horizon had also been made of wood, with a gasbag holding it in the air. Trying to accelerate it with a jet engine would turn it into kindling far faster than a water landing.

“In aircraft designed for them, 1000 kilometers per hour or more. But… those require high-precision engineering, with a tendency to catastrophic failure if you’re off by even a few centimeters on those blades. On the next page, you can see a simpler design. Far lower efficiency on that one, it’s a turbojet instead of a turbofan… which doesn’t mean anything to you. But I think we have a better chance of actually building one.”

Sharp Edge turned the page, looking over the drawings. There was a time when Theo’s technical drawings had been fairly expert—but even though claws could grasp a pen, they lacked the precision of fingers. He passed the notebook back. “I have a friend in the Air Service who would probably buy these from you. If we had a working prototype.”

Theo looked away. For the second time that day there was an expression on Sharp’s face that she didn’t like. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what the pony was thinking—it was that she did.

“I didn’t know you were so… smart,” Sharp said. “You’re wasted in a library if you can do things like this in a workshop.”

Is that what you want me doing in your workshop? She winced, rising suddenly and turning away. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna walk to the engine,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few.”

She needed time to cool her head, before she said something she would regret.

Chapter 18: Then They Reached the Capital

They didn’t have the train to themselves for long, as more ponies boarded the closer they came to Canterlot. As the car became more and more crowded with strangers, Theo and her companions moved to a single row, where they could sit in relative comfort and not disrupt anyone else.

Theo watched the countryside closely from one of the wide windows, sitting beside Sharp Edge on one side and Emerald on the other. The more time she spent with ponies, the more her fears that they would violently kill her for the way she looked began to fade. Whatever happened in Sleighsburg, it wasn’t happening to her again. She got an occasional odd look, and a few other passengers asked her how long she’d been visiting in Equestria. She told them each the truth and was relieved when they were left alone.

While she wasn’t attacked by any of the other passengers, she was free to watch as Canterlot approached above them. The train cut straight towards it across the valleys of a green lowland, chugging peacefully through large fields and modest towns. Theo thought they resembled American towns more than the European, with wide streets and much space between buildings, though it also looked more historical than anything else.

Canterlot itself was… something else. Whenever the train turned and she caught a glimpse of it through distant clouds, she thought that she must be hallucinating. It was more like a theme-park structure, built into impossible steep stone cliffs with a kind of forced perspective that many theme-parks used.

“That can’t be it,” she said, after Sharp pointed it out to her. “Why would you put a capital city so high in the mountains? It would be a nightmare to get anything up and down.”

“History,” Sharp answered, his tone deadly serious. “We’d been invaded a few times, and the last capital was burned. Princess Celestia wanted its replacement to be somewhere that would be easier to defend. They picked the steepest, tallest mountain they could, put her castle on the peak, and the rest of the city just grew up around it.”

“I heard that it used to be almost all pegasus ponies up there,” Emerald said. “Until they built the railway, uh… a while ago. Now anypony can go there, you don’t have to fly.”

“Doesn’t look like they’ve been around very long,” Theo answered. Though the engine had been safe enough, it also rumbled and shook and belched steam wherever it went. It had been switched out once and stopped for refueling twice more. She had the wrong mindset to care much about steam engines though, so she couldn’t have said how advanced it was.

“Not that long,” Sharp Edge agreed. “Three hundred years, maybe? That feels about right. I never paid much attention in history.”

“You mean more like… thirty,” Theo argued. The train was unmistakably traveling up now, turning along a sharp switchback. Unlike the old, rusty tracks leading to Agate, these were perfect and shiny. They barely bumped as they sped upward, along a perfect grade lined by fences on one side and a rock wall on the other. “That’s what this feels like. You’re using old-fashioned steam engines, with coal and boilers and everything.”

“It’s not thirty.” Sharp Edge laughed quietly, though he stopped as soon as it was clear other ponies were watching them. “It takes longer than that to cover a country with tracks. I think it can take that long just to make a new engine, but… that’s outside my field. I didn’t want to spend my life learning a craft when I would only make a dozen of something before I died, all the same. No thanks.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes more. Theo listened to the conversations elsewhere on the train, imagining the business of the adorable little horses that brought them to their Disneyland capital on the top of a mountain. But then they twisted along another bend, and she had a clear view of the city again.

This one wasn’t built from unknowable crystals, but familiar techniques. White stone colonnades, massive pillars and arches, flat platforms that supported thousands of structures seemingly suspended over the sky. The city seemed to be divided into tiers, with smaller dirtier buildings below and a few polished white ones further up, near the palace.

It wasn’t a theme park. Even from a distance Theo could see the many figures moving—figures that moved through the streets, true, and just as many in the air above it. Emerald wasn’t the only of her kind—there were thousands of them, all living here. As the city got closer, its scope finally dawned on her. The Crystal Empire had been strange, but this place was easily larger than Graz. Maybe bigger than Vienna as well.

Equestria wasn’t Europe, as much as this alpine construction would’ve felt at home there. “Emerald, could you…” But she was already taking a picture. They’re never gonna believe this.

The city kept getting bigger, right up until they slowed to a stop in the lower-city train station. Apparently the train kept going—but not for ponies who had tickets like theirs. If they wanted to climb to those heights, they would have to walk.

But Theo didn’t even care. As she followed Sharp Edge, she grinned up at the lower city district, a city of cramped buildings and happy voices. The streets were much too thin for any proper vehicles to pass, but there were plenty of “horse drawn” carts, along with carriages pulled by uniformed ponies.

Sharp Edge nudged her from one side, gesturing to the side of the road. She blushed, realizing she’d stopped right outside the train in the direct flow of traffic, with ponies staring at her on both sides. But where she might’ve been cursed at on Earth, here she only got a few concerned looks. From Sharp Edge most of all. “Is everything alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s just… it’s been a long time since I’ve been around so many people. The Observatory only has eight people over winter, and Barrow has… not very many I ever saw. When it’s that cold, you stay inside most of the time or you freeze.”

She looked up towards the distant palace, surrounded by massive walls of buildings getting closer and closer, not quite so large as skyscrapers, but there was just so many. “Do you know how many people live here?”

“A million?” Sharp answered, shrugging one shoulder. Did he look… pleased? Maybe this was the kind of reaction he expected. “The government buildings are all in the upper city. Getting in should be easy, looking like you do. We just have to get up there. We, uh…” He looked away, trailing off awkwardly. “It would be better if we walk. We’re running a little low on bits, and we might not have enough to stay the night if we catch a trolley.”

“We can walk,” Theo said, leaning over to give him a friendly hug. “Maybe they’ll help me. I’ve heard of consulates doing things to help their citizens who are stranded. Or… I’m not actually one of their citizens, though. I don’t suppose the EU have anything here?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Sharp Edge said. “So I’m guessing not.”

They walked. Theo didn’t mind, even though the city seemed enormous and the walk would probably take hours. She wanted to see the city for herself, and the best way to do that was on her feet.

They passed apartment blocks, wide public parks, and old-fashioned glass storefronts. Theo looked in several though one look from Sharp was the only reminder she needed that they wouldn’t be getting anything from them today.

They did stop for fried food from a makeshift stall, eating on an old stone bench beside an ancient mausoleum.

Ponies passed them on the street just past the fence, stealing an occasional glance at the ponies inside, but generally leaving them alone.

If Theo had one consolation, it was that Emerald was even more shocked and amazed by everything here than she was. She could barely eat, barely talk, and was constantly looking around her, as though she thought the world was going to melt back into snow and ice at any moment. “Didn’t you live here once, master?” she asked, picking at the oat-bun in small bites.

“Yes,” he answered. “The guild that trained me is on the next tier. I don’t think they’d be too pleased to see me back.”

“Why would you leave?” Emerald stopped in front of him, gesturing wildly with her wings. “This place is amazing! There’s so many… ponies. Statues and singing and food and…” She lifted up into the air as she spoke, at least until she stopped talking. Then she stopped flapping and landed on the path in front of them with a rough thump. “Sleighsburg is so… awful. So cold, the same ponies every day, the same ice, same sea.”

“You say that.” Sharp Edge gestured up above them, at the palace. The city was constructed so steeply that it was always visible looming overhead. “But it has disadvantages. So many old families, old ways of doing things… all entrenched here. What matters most when you grow up in Canterlot is your family name. What tier of the city do you live in, whose friends can you use to get you the best positions?”

He rose, tossing the empty wax-paper into a nearby bin. “I like Canterlot too, kid. But if you were stuck here, you might find you hated it just as much as where you were. A cage made of gold is still a cage.”

Emerald rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure I’d think so, master.” Then she turned to Theo. “What about you, Summer. Would you want to leave here?”

She nodded without thinking. “Big cities are okay to visit, but they wear on you after a while. You have to be built for it, and I never was. They never sleep, the noise never stops. And you don’t get to know your neighbors—they’re just faces.”

“Says the pony who hasn’t had to know the same ponies for her whole life,” Emerald muttered, pawing unhappily at the gravel path. “Maybe it’s great if you like them. But if you don’t, you’re stuck. Don’t fly in the street, Emerald! Shouldn’t you be helping your mother, Emerald? It’s not proper for you to be seen with outsiders, Emerald! I saw you out too late, Emerald. You should help me clean this fish, Emerald.” With each line she did another impression, dropping her voice or lifting her ears or puffing out her chin.

Sharp Edge laughed for a few seconds, before clearing his throat and looking away. “Yes, well. Canterlot is too expensive for us to stay in for long. I’ve got enough gold for a night in the lower city. With luck, we’ll have finished with the embassy by then.”

“They’ll take Summer back with them to their mountain, won’t they?” Emerald asked, grinning eagerly. “You think they’ll let us visit too? We helped her get this far, it’s only fair!”

“They might,” Sharp said. “But there’s no way to know. I don’t actually know very much about the embassy—I’ve never been with anyone who needed to speak with them before. We shouldn’t think we can guess how hippogriffs will behave just because we know Summer here. She’s really a Traveler.”

“A human,” she corrected. “We have a real name. I have one too. It’s Theo, if you forgot.”

“I didn’t,” Sharp said, frowning weakly. “It’s just… hard to say.”

It can’t be that hard. She didn’t argue with him all the same. They left the old building behind and were soon back on the road up through the city. They didn’t get very far before Theo realized they were being followed.

It was a pair of ponies, both sturdy looking stallions that were about her height, but as thick and muscular as bodybuilders. At first she hadn’t noticed—there were so many ponies here, and no two looked alike. But each time they crossed a street, each time they waited for a crosswalk, there they were just a block behind, sometimes less.

And we don’t have a gun. Theo slid up beside Sharp, whispering to him. “Don’t turn around, but I think we’re being followed.”

Ponies could act naive, but at least he had the sense not to turn around. “Who?”

It was hard for Theo to know, but it felt like they were about halfway up the city. Between the lower and middle sections there were no buildings, just suspended gondolas, and a single road that cut up and down through precarious switchbacks. They were mostly alone on the road now, aside from the occasional cart and carriage.

“Two stallions—both wearing white jackets and black hats.”

Sharp Edge tensed, his ears flattening. “You mean the ones… standing right behind you?”

How?

Theo spun around, in time to see the two ponies she’d been watching land just steps away from her. They were both pegasus ponies, both grizzled and strong. She took a single step back, eyes widening. “O-oh. Hi there.”

“Hello,” one of them said, reaching into his jacket and removing something from inside.

Theo froze, expecting a knife and the inevitable “give me your money” that would follow. Or something worse. That was the other dangerous part of living in a big city—there was always so much more crime.

She squealed and retreated as the pony’s wing emerged from within—but there was no blade balanced between those strong feathers, just a little white envelope.

Theo took it in one awkward claw, holding it up. It was a thick parchment envelope, with a feather embossed across the back. And when she turned it over, there was a name written across the top.

Her name, in English letters.

Theodor Pichler.

“That is for you,” the pony said, retreating. His companion took off into the air, hovering just above them. “Apologies if we made you uncomfortable. We had to make sure you were the right hippogriff.”

Theo slit the letter open, stupefied. “How did you… how did you know?” she asked, stunned.

“Enjoy your time in Canterlot,” the pony said, taking off and joining his companion. They flew for the lower city, and who knew where beyond. But Theo didn’t watch them go. She barely even realized her friends were there—she had to know what was in the letter.

She leaned on the railing, pulling out the thick stamped paper with one claw.

There was that Feather logo at the top of the page, a simple white outline.

Sharp leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the page. Then he froze, completely still as Theo read to herself. English text, in simple block text characters with the ink bleed suggesting a primitive typewriter.

You don’t know me, but I know of you, Theo.

I’ve been trying to get in contact with you since you arrived in Equestria several weeks ago. But as you probably realized by now, Sleighsburg is far from civilization and the ponies there are not friendly to us.

I know you’re confused. You don’t know Equestria, and maybe you don’t want to. I’m writing to tell you that you aren’t alone. You aren’t the first, though you’re probably the last. The bridge is destroyed. You saw the failure when you attempted to activate it—now you know why I am still here. It opens only one way; we cannot ever return.

There is another warning you need to hear: the species we have become, hippogriffs—they are terrified of us. Many years ago they traveled two worlds and lived in both. Then they met us, and they fled from Earth, destroying the door on our side.

You found your way here anyway, as I did. Welcome to your prison.

I have enclosed a voucher you should take to the nearest Feather store—they will give you anything you ask for, as much as you can carry. Take as much as you can, sell it, and use the proceeds to travel to Manehattan. Present this letter to my secretary, and we can meet.

We shouldn’t face Equestria alone. It is a strange place; with many dangers you are unprepared to face. But I’ve been here a decade. Let me share what I have gathered, and what I have learned.

Regards,

Kate Alasie

She turned it over, and indeed there was a smaller slip of paper inside, with Ponish writing on the side and more Feather symbols.

“What’s that?” Emerald lifted into the air, peeking over her shoulder at the letter. “Hey, I know those letters! Those are on the side of the camera!” She turned it over, exposing the printed plastic “POLAROID” symbol.

“They are,” Theo said. Her claw shook—she wasn’t sure if she would laugh or cry. She did both, tucking the letter back into the envelope and slipping it into her saddlebags. There was so much in there—secrets learned by another human, like her.

She’d been right about Feather. It seemed like a stolen Earth idea selling Earth inventions because that was exactly what it was. She still wasn’t sure how to face much of what it said. She needed to read over this somewhere quiet, where she could consider its messages. While it solved one problem with the voucher, Kate had also made her trip apparently irrelevant.

Welcome to your prison.

“Someone came through before me,” Theo whispered, looking back to Sharp. “That’s what it said. The letter written in my language, with my name on the front.” That she knew. How did she know? How did she know where to find me, or that someone else had gone through?

“Are you sure?” Sharp glanced once at the saddlebags, turning weakly away. “Summer, I know you… I know how much you want to see something familiar. But the chances of—”

She shoved a wing up into his face, silencing him. “That letter was written in English, Sharp. Perfect, grammatical English. I think a Traveler like me must’ve written it. Can you think of a better explanation?”

He opened his mouth to reply, then his ears flattened, and he looked away. “I suppose I can’t.”

What got into you? Theo almost questioned him, but she found she didn’t care right now. Apparently Kate Alasie thought that they were stuck in Equestria. Maybe alone they were, but what about together? Theo had equipment, experience, and there was a base on the other side. They’d already made radio contact once. If radio waves could make it back, why not people?

She’s just discouraged. She tried as hard as she could to go home and couldn’t figure it out. I’ll help her see. Besides, she had Sharp Edge’s help now. Maybe the way to get the door to open again was the help of a pony engineer. Or maybe they needed the hippogriffs’ magic, as Sharp had initially thought.

“We still have to get to the embassy,” Theo said, hurrying forward a few steps, hopping from stair to stair until the others were following again. She found she was no longer discouraged—money wouldn’t be a problem anymore. A pony with the wealth of such a huge corporation would surely never miss the money their group needed. She’d said she wanted to share.

“I…” Sharp Edge still sounded nervous, worried. “I know how exciting that seems. But I should warn you. Letters from strangers can be… dangerous.”

Emerald turned and glared at him. “I don’t know why you’re being so weird about it, master. Isn’t it good that Summer heard from her family?”

“Sure,” he answered, voice flat. “Or it would be if it were really them. But we don’t know—we can’t know, Emerald. I don’t want her to be hurt.”

Theo listened carefully, but Sharp had nothing more to say. Soon enough he’d fallen silent, and he was similarly quiet during the rest of the way up to the upper city. Theo wanted to tell him about the voucher, and the money they would soon be able to use. Maybe even enough to repair the airship! Her own silly plans about inventing new technology and building prototypes could go into the trash where they belonged.

But why stop there? We could buy train tickets and get the money we need directly. I’m sure she’d give it to us. There was no reason to work so hard to find them if not to be helpful.

Eventually they climbed to the top of the upper city. Theo found that the ponies here didn’t seem nearly as friendly. They might wear gold and fancy clothes, but they also looked at the three of them as though they were afraid they’d catch a deadly disease. Ponies parted around them as they walked up the wide boulevards near the palace.

There were lots of government buildings here, not just the pony capital. Theo was more interested in that, but today wouldn’t be the day. If I really am trapped, I’ll have plenty of time to see the sights. And if not, then I could always stop here again on the trip north.

The hippogriff embassy building wasn’t hard to find—it had two huge brass sculptures outside, a swimming creature that resembled a pony circling a large cliff, and an elegant bird perched atop it. Wrought iron gates surrounded the building, with supports polished with mother of pearl. And just inside, the guards gave Theo her first glimpse of other hippogriffs.

She’d seen herself in a mirror enough times not to be surprised. But one thing she’d never seen were hippogriff males. The guards were a full head taller than she was or looked it. It was harder to be sure if their armor was somehow making them larger.

The gatehouse had several of them, in the same wide variety of colors as ponies. But like Theo herself, they lacked cutie marks.

One, the one wearing a black dress and glasses instead of armor, walked calmly from the gate and over to them. “Citizen, is there anything we can do for you this fine afternoon?” She eyed Theo’s neck, apparently concerned, though she didn’t say what bothered her.

“Yes.” Theo smiled weakly at her, extending a claw. She took it awkwardly, shaking only briefly and then wiping her own covertly on the back of her dress. “I’m so glad we made it. This trip… I almost worried we wouldn’t. But then we did, and… I have a serious emergency. My friends and I need to talk to whoever is in charge right away.”

She looked up, eyeing Emerald and Sharp. “I’m afraid your friends will have to wait outside. I could get you an emergency visit with the Consul, but if ponies were in attendance, that would be an international matter, and we’d need approval from Canterlot Castle first. That usually takes a few days, possibly more if you don’t have the, uh… right impetus to encourage the right ponies.”

“It’s alright.” Sharp waved a hoof dismissively. “You know what you need to tell them, right Summer? Emerald and I can wait out here until you’re done.”

“Just don’t forget about us if you go!” Emerald added, though she was clearly disappointed. She kept glancing through the gates and up to the plain marble building inside. But she was mature enough not to argue. “I want to see the hippogriff city!”

Theo leaned down, giving her a brief hug. “I’ll remember,” she said, before nearly doing the same for Sharp. But then their eyes met, and he shuffled backward awkwardly. Theo did the same, then turned back to the hippogriff.

She offered a clipboard in one claw. “Just sign your name here with the purpose of your visit, and we can go inside.” She lowered her voice just a little, so that only Theo could hear. “Really cousin, in public? I think you’ve been living with these ponies too long if you start acting like them.”

She took the clipboard back with a claw, then spun crisply and led the way through the gates.

Theo followed, passing guards armed with crossbows on both sides. She had only one last look at her pony friends behind her as the marble doors shut.

Chapter 19: Filled with Strange Creatures

Theo had been in government buildings before, when she’d been gunning for her current position. Current, former position.

Either way, she found the inside of the embassy strikingly similar to plenty of identical structures she’d visited before—polished marble floors, too high ceilings, and metal banisters. It was all about showing stability and casual wealth for anyone who visited. They represented whole nations, after all. They couldn’t do that without showing off.

Once through the doors, Theo didn’t see any more guards—it was all hippogriffs in fancy clothes, as expensive as the part of the city they’d found themselves in. More than she’d ever seen in one place before. Because you’ve only seen yourself in one place before, stupid.

The reality she’d first observed with the guards outside was true even for the diplomats and politicians inside—males hugely outsized her, and would’ve dwarfed her pony companions waiting outside.

But more than just feeling small, Theo couldn’t help but feel the profound sense of being where she didn’t belong. While these creatures smelled like fresh perfume and walked around with their beaks held high, she had dirt and sticks in her mane from rough travel, and wore almost nothing.

None of her human clothes had been worth carrying off the wreck of the Horizon, and so they would probably lay there to rot away once the elements got in. She expected to be screamed at any moment for the indecency of walking right into a civilized town with just a vest—but none of the birds cared.

The same bird who had let her inside pointed her down the spacious hallways, directing her up the stairs to a towering wooden door. “The ambassador is on the other side,” she said, voice low. “He already knows you’ll be coming. Wait here, and the door will open when he’s ready for you.”

The door opened, sparing Theo the awkward buildup. “Nevermind. He’ll see you now.”

Through the door, a male towered over her, because of course it would be another male. They smelled… different, just the way the ponies did. After being around Sharp for so long, getting used to this would be its own burden. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to try.

“I’m told your name is Summer Ray,” he said, smiling amicably. “And I can see you’ve, uh… possibly had a stint of bad luck in Equestria during your visit, eh?” He gestured into his office. “Come, sit. Seaquestria is here to help.”

It cannot be called that. Theo followed, glancing back once at the mare who had led her here. But that was the same creature who had refused to let her pony friends in on account of their race—hardly a creature she should be counting on to protect her in here.

The office was far more lavish than the embassy outside—here the trim on the walls was clearly actual gold, with painted designs set into the wood with incredible precision. Even the plush on the chairs felt expensive as she settled down in one, and it gave just a little under the weight of her body.

I really shouldn’t be getting used to this.

“I am Ambassador Stratus Skyranger,” he said, grinning politely at her. “I suppose you can think of me as our highest representative here in Equestria. For every hippogriff who visits, I’m the one to help in situations like yours. Please, uh…” He glanced back at the sheet of paper in front of him, and nearly bungled her name. You just knew it. “Summer Ray. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t think you’ll believe it,” she said, without a trace of irony. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it.”

“You’d be surprised how many say that,” he said, leaning back in his chair and grinning politely. “Don’t worry about having to convince me of much, Summer. I’m really here as a point of emergency contact. Generally I’ll help however you need, no matter how crazy it seems. It’s justifying the help I give you once you’re back to Mt. Aris that’s the real sticking point. Incidentally, it is a crime to lie to me, and birds lose their passports for lying. But based on the way you and your, uh… your companions… looked outside somehow I don’t think you’re lying.”

“I’m not,” she said. She reached into her saddlebags, removing her inert tablet from inside, still in its protective case. Whether or not the OtterBox had been enough to withstand the pond, she still didn’t know—it hadn’t had any power left to begin with. “Do you know what this is?”

The bird pulled it closer, then held it up. “A rather poor mirror, I imagine. But I can’t see what that has to do with me—if I wasn’t clear, Summer, tell me about what you need to solve whatever difficulties you’ve encountered here in Equestria. If there are legal measures that should be taken—a robbery, perhaps, or something similar. I’ll do whatever it takes to see the situation rectified.”

“My airship crashed,” she said. “And I was hoping for passage to Mt. Aris for myself and my two companions. I need to talk to the creatures there about—”

He raised a wing, silencing her. “Airship crash—that would explain the way you look.” He passed back the tablet. “Passage home is one of the simplest and most common types of help we offer. Though I’m afraid it isn’t available for, uh… creatures who don’t call Mt. Aris home. Even getting permits to visit there can be difficult during some years. Security, you know. Nopony wants to risk another Storm King.”

He made it all sound so reasonable, except that of course she could never agree to that. What was she supposed to do after reaching the hippogriff city? She didn’t imagine for a second she would know what to do there without Sharp’s help.

“Maybe… could you help us get a salvage crew out to the airship instead? That would be better—Sharp and Emerald are my friends, I don’t want to leave them behind. Sharp saved my life—” And then I saved his. But saying that probably wouldn’t help her case.

“A salvage and repair crew for an airship,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking down at his claws for a moment. “That would cost… quite a bit more than just one airship ticket home. Is there any… reason the state would take an interest in your airship in particular? Why not have your clan wire you the money?”

It was now or never. Theo glanced down at the tablet on the desk between them, with its perfectly machined corners and narrow bezels. This product of her world was one of few reminders she had of her home. But why should she hide it? If Sharp had known about Travelers and the Doorway, then certainly the ones who had built it would know even more, right?

“Because I don’t have a clan,” she said. This time she didn’t wait, not giving him even a moment to interrupt and prevent her from finishing what she had to say. She turned over the tablet. “I didn’t come from Mt. Aris, but from an ancient portal in the frozen north. It’s in Alaska, but that doesn’t mean anything on this end… my pony friend studies aspects of all this, he called me a Traveler. This is my species here, my mother and father and me. This is how I’m supposed to look.”

Stratus stared at the image for several long moments. He looked like he wanted to take the tablet, but now Theo held it out of reach. If this bird took anything from her, she might never see it again. She wasn’t about to give up her last picture of her family.

“I admit, that’s… certainly the most creative story I’ve ever received,” Stratus said. “But I did say it was a criminal offense to—”

She reached into her bag, removing the radio and settling it onto the table. She twisted the dial all the way up, ignoring the burst of static. The speaker filled the room with uncomfortable hissing, at least until she pressed a few of the buttons on the side with her claws.

It might’ve been hard for her, a few weeks ago. But now she’d been a hippogriff long enough that precision like that was simple for her. She navigated to “Recorded Messages,” and played the first one back.

It was Corey’s voice, recorded some time ago. Before winter shift even began, or at least Theo thought it was. An older recording for sure. “I just got a report that you had permission to make a few modifications to the aurora experiment. Want to fill me in on what you’re doing out there, Theo?”

Corey’s voice was deep, his pronunciation completely unfamiliar. Even to Theo, the tone felt like it didn’t quite settle against her ears.

“Sure thing!” said her own voice, in accented English. “What I know, anyway. Mostly just the alma mater grateful they have boots on the ground for a pet project. Wasn’t my department—”

Theo reached up, twisting the dial until it went off. Stratus had gone completely still, staring at the radio. Good thing the alien language had made such an impression, because she wasn’t sure how much longer the battery would last. I really have to do something about that.

“I have more evidence,” she said, her voice absolutely confident. “I can speak that language you just heard, and write in letters you can’t read. I can demonstrate technology unknown to you, I can—”

Stratus smacked his claw on the desk, hard enough that its finely polished surface dented from the impact. “You’re mistaken,” he said, each word coming out forced. “There are no Doorways. There are no Travelers, no First Inheritance.” He reached down sharply, removing a pad of paper from inside a drawer in front of him and settling it down on the desk.

“It’s obvious you’ve been… in Equestria too long. You’ve been adversely influenced by their mythology. You’ve taken some of it for yourself. This is unfortunate, but have no fear. Seaquestria is ever a kind and understanding nation. We will provide care, until you’re cured of this… unique delusion. I’m going to need to take that contraband from you as well.”

Theo rose, hastily stashing her possessions before Stratus could reach them. “I’m not from Seaquestria,” she said flatly, her foreleg searching desperately for something, anything she could use. There were hard plastic SSD cases, there was some charging cables with nothing to plug them into. A shaving kit. Lots of pony camping supplies. “I didn’t even tell you about the Doorway, but you knew what it was called.”

She kept backing up, all the way to the door. “I don’t want your help anymore.” This ambassador doesn’t want this getting out. I need to talk to the ones in charge.

But how was she supposed to do that, if she got carted off to some… avian insane asylum?

Stratus ignored her, leaning down to a metal box on his desk. It hissed and cracked, then he started speaking into it. “Embassy watch, I’m going to need you here.”

Theo’s forelegs closed on something else, something that had been buried so far in back she’d almost forgot she had it. She hadn’t thought she would need it. Her flare gun.

She swung it out in one smooth motion, aiming it aggressively at Stratus’s head. “Don’t say anything,” she ordered. At pony size, the flare gun was gigantic, like a gun some crazy Victorian might’ve used to hunt elephants.

Stratus’s eyes widened, and she could tell instantly that he jumped directly to fear. He knows what a gun is. “Delay that. I’ll call you back.” He pressed the button again.

Theo advanced, eyes widening with her mad plan as it formed. The gun looked imposing, but there was little chance of it actually killing when she fired it. Unless she burned the building down by mistake, or something similar.

“You’re not dragging me off,” she said, getting as close as she could to Stratus. Confusion and terror screamed in the back of her mind, but their voices were weaker than the adrenaline she felt. I am not going to vanish into some dark building for the rest of my stupid girl bird life. I’m going home. I’m getting my old body back. No matter what.

“You’re going to tell me what you know about the Doorway. Right now.” She backed up suddenly, yanking the window curtains closed. Has anyone seen us yet?

“It’s…” Every word seemed to cost him, and his eyes never left the barrel. “Exactly this. As though you needed any further proof. Travelers… should be forgotten. That world is incredibly dangerous, and its denizens were even dangerous then. How much worse have they—well, obvious, isn’t it? You really are one of them if you’ll point that at me.”

She ignored the insult, if that’s what it was. “I just want to bucking go home, piss-for-brains! I want to go back up the doorway the way I came and never come back. Helping me gets rid of a danger.”

“You could ask the queen,” he whispered, voice low. “You could ask the queen, except you’ll never see her. I’ve been given… other instructions. If any creature like you ever emerged. You can’t be allowed to spread disinformation. You can’t endanger our city after we only just regained our independence. We have enough despots of our own without importing more.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the ruse. He already knew who she was—she was recorded visiting here. What higher authorities did she have?

She nearly dropped the not-gun right there in surrender. But she could still see the picture of her family, refreshed in her mind’s eye thanks to the image on the tablet. If she surrendered now, she knew somewhere deep down that she would never see them again. Almost as bad, her new friends would be just as lost. Sharp and Emerald were the only things that had made this alien world tolerable, and they’d be taken too.

Unless she acted fast.

“You have a bucking escape tunnel, don’t you?” She advanced, shoving the gun towards his head. “Open it, right now. And if you try to call for help—” I’m screwed, because I can’t stop you. “I’ll show you just how dangerous Travelers can be.”

He rose from his desk, backing up towards a bookcase. Amazingly, when he rapped on it with two claws, it actually swung backwards—there really was a tunnel, though it was so short it couldn’t go much further than the embassy wall. “You’ll never make it out of the city. Canterlot is going to be—”

She hammered the reloading mechanism on the flare gun, causing the round in the barrel to pop out a few inches, ejecting from the spring.

He jerked, whimpering as he covered his face with one foreleg. But of course, she hadn’t fired—rather the opposite, making the gun into something that couldn’t.

“I don’t think you’re going to do that,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. She didn’t have real weapons—couldn’t make a real threat. But she could lie. “I already went to Celestia. The ponies all know about me. What do you think they’ll say when I don’t come out of here?”

Stratus swore angrily under his breath, and she was sure she heard his claws grinding suddenly against the fancy wood floor. “You have no idea what you’ve done, Summer. Ponies… they’re all too bucking curious for their own good. If they open that Doorway… but maybe that’s what you want. You were always an invader.”

Theo ran. Past where Stratus half blocked the entrance, spinning around to point the gun at him as she left. The tunnel didn’t go far—she could keep pointing it at the ambassador all the way to the heavy wood on the far side. She shoved the bar to the ground with a back leg, then slipped the flare gun away.

The door was enormously heavy—so heavy that she could barely open it. But she was spared whatever might’ve happened if she had to ask the ambassador for help by some old-fashioned determination. She gritted her teeth, braced her shoulders up against the wood, then shoved.

She dropped onto the floor on the far side of the door, spat out into a narrow alley between the embassy and several of its neighbor compounds. Theo didn’t pause to look behind her and see if she was being followed—she just ran. She ran along the side of the embassy, keeping her head down. She could only wish she had a jacket or something else to obscure what she looked like—but she didn’t, and there was no chance to find anything now.

She emerged on the high-street beside the embassy, half-expecting her friends to already be arrested. But they just sat on the pavement with their backs to the wall—they hadn’t been dragged off somewhere, or interfered with at all. Did my threat actually work? Whatever part of her had been afraid they would abandon her faded into the background until it was gone. Of course they would wait for her—and here they were.

Sharp Edge rose to his hooves, glancing curiously in her direction. Theo didn’t shout for him, just darted over to him and pointed down a different alley, before slipping away there herself. The guards hadn’t seen her, right? She couldn’t stop to be sure. If we just had damn cell phones, none of this would be an issue.

She felt the high walls of the fancy shops close in around her—eyes peeked out from a few tiny windows, and she could only imagine what they might be thinking. But this was no dangerous neighborhood of a human city—there was no graffiti here, no broken needles or signs of police violence. It was just a street, cut off from the much larger ways into shops that faced the public.

A few seconds later and an out-of-breath Sharp rounded the corner, with Emerald gliding through the air behind him. The child didn’t seem to care much where they were, or even think anything was out of the ordinary. But Sharp glanced around, concern written all over his face. “Summer, why are you hiding?” he asked, as soon as he was close enough to ask without his voice carrying.

“How were the other hippogriffs?” Emerald asked innocently, ignoring Sharp’s urgency. “Did they give you what you needed?”

For once, Theo ignored her question. “The ambassador tried to steal my stuff and… I don’t know, I think he wanted…” She shook her head. “No time to explain, not here. We need to get out of the city. Can we do that?”

He glanced down at the pouch around his neck, fumbling with it with one hoof. His head twitched once, ears flat. When he spoke, there was obvious embarrassment in his tone. “There’s a small town near here, a place called… Pony-something. I might have enough bits to get us second class tickets for there. But we’ll be flat broke after that.”

“We need to do it,” Theo said, voice urgent. “I don’t know what we do when we get out of here—but we need to get out, right now. The only reason we’re not all arrested is my bluff, and I don’t know how long he’ll buy it. The sooner we’re gone, the better.”

It wasn’t quite the exit from Canterlot that Theo imagined. She could sense Emerald’s disappointment to be leaving such an important pony city so quickly—particularly since there wasn’t time to just stop and explain the danger. But to Theo’s intense relief, her companion Sharp didn’t ever stop her or demand proof of what she was saying—he just trusted her, even when the decision seemed incredibly foolish.

She thought about making a detour to the Feather Store, and stocking up on overpriced crap they could sell on for more bits. But given what had just happened, her contact at Feather might be the last friendly face Theo had left. She wasn’t going to chance the bits she could use to get there on a gamble that they wouldn’t get arrested for attempting to “rob” Canterlot while they were at it.

There were no hippogriff police searching the streets for her, but dozens of ponies in their gold armor with dull spears and shields. She imagined every pair at every street corner were looking for her. Sometimes she swore they were watching her, noting her movements and her destination. But none ever stopped them.

Before night came, they were on the train again, speeding down the mountain from the incredible pony capital towards a place called “Ponyville.”

They might be in second class, but their car was completely empty—apparently, there weren’t many ponies who made the evening commute on uncomfortable wooden benches on the back of the train.

“Here,” Sharp said, settling a little basket of apples between them. “Came with the ticket. Better enjoy them, because this is the last of our bits. If we get hungry after this… it’s grazing, I suppose.”

“I don’t think hippogriffs can graze,” Emerald muttered, taking an apple in her mouth and grinning with delight. “Oooh, they do taste better when they aren’t dried!”

“I don’t know what grazing means,” Theo whispered. “But that was necessary. Thanks for trusting me.” She sat back in her seat, letting the gentle rumble of the railroad ease her into something like relaxed.

“Of course I trust you,” Sharp said, a little tensely. “I hope you’ll trust me too. There are creatures we can trust, and creatures we should avoid. But… what happened in there, Summer? That was your embassy. They should’ve been helpful. Not… sending you away terrified.”

“You sure you want to know?” Theo asked, nervously. “At least if I don’t tell you, you might have… deniability. Okay, I have no idea how your laws work. But I think you’d be better off saying that I tricked you into helping me if this goes wrong.”

“We can still say that,” Sharp said. “But I probably won’t. Say it.”

Theo glanced at Emerald, about to ask her to leave. But then she thought about where a child might go if she was alone on a train. Considering what had already happened, did she really want this pony off on her own? Knowing things she didn’t really understand seemed like the lesser of two evils.

She explained what had happened as quickly as she could, omitting nothing. She wasn’t thrilled to admit to the pony that she’d had to lie and threaten her way out of the building—but if Sharp Edge was going to keep helping her, he needed to know what she’d done. She did trust him. After all, he hadn’t left while she was in the building. He could’ve finally left this nightmare behind, left her to the ones that were supposed to care for her. He hadn’t.

“So that’s why we had to run,” she finished, when they were all the way down the mountain. They were already slowing—no wonder they’d been able to afford the trip with even their meager bits to spend. “I’m not sure how long he’ll buy the bluff. And the instant he tests it, he’s going to find out the whole thing is a lie.”

“Yeah.” Sharp slumped forward in his seat, resting his head in his hooves in a way that was almost human. It certainly didn’t look cute, that just wouldn’t make sense. And ponies smelling better was just familiarity, she didn’t have any bias in the matter. “Well, we’re on our way to… Ponyville. Should be small enough that the embassy doesn’t care to investigate. He’ll think you’re off somewhere important, if he even looks for you at all. We can… hope that even if he does investigate, he won’t push too far. You did embarrass him. Getting away, when he had you completely trapped like that… that’s very brave. I don’t know if I could do that.”

I didn’t think I could, until it was escape or never see home again. But when she tried to say that, she saw the sunset behind him through the window, and her words turned to mush. “Y-yeah,” she said lamely, her ears flattening.

“It sounds like a Daring Do adventure!” Emerald called from beside her, actually gleeful rather than intimidated. “Take me with you next time! I could’ve helped!”

Thank god you weren’t with me. “Sure, sweetie.” She reached out, patting Emerald on the head. “I don’t know what a daring do is, but yes. I don’t want to get separated like that again.”

“Coming up is ‘Daring Do and figuring out how to hike across a continent because we’re out of money’,” Sharp muttered, just a tad petulant. “And ‘Daring Do and the cramped tent we have to sleep in’.”

At least I’m with people I like.

“We’ll figure something out,” Theo said, without a clue how they would. But that was a bridge she could cross once they got to Ponyville.

Chapter 20: So We Changed Our Plans

By the time their train arrived in Ponyville, full dark had settled over the town like a heavy blanket. This was no Crystal Empire or Canterlot, with bustling activity even late into the night. As Theo emerged from the train, she could see only a few flickering gas lamps, leading into town towards a round, municipal-looking building.

The rest of the town could’ve come out of any number of semi ancient villages in her home country, though it had been quite some time since she’d seen a thatch roof on anything that wasn’t a historical preservation site. It was quaint and comfortable, a little like Utqiagvik, without the constant chill and the pressure of invisible depression on every house.

It would be a great place to stay and recover, if only they had the money to do it. Theo glanced idly at her saddlebags, and her wallet inside. There was quite a bit of money on her plastic cards—the wealth earned over one and a half winters at the Observatory. But she didn’t think they’d be converting it anytime soon.

“We can’t set up the tent in town,” Sharp muttered, pointing towards a wide dirt road leading to a bridge, then up a gentle slope. “But we can once we get away from here. Come on.”

They walked. Theo wished it had been daytime—at least then she could take in these charming buildings and—she assumed—their friendly residents, in full light. She could only look in at the warm glow emerging from windows from afar, and long for the cozy cabin of the Horizon.

She’s broken because I was worth attacking. Everything in Sharp’s life is ruined because of me. The blacksmith had sacrificed so much to learn about the Doorway and the creatures that lived on the other side. At the rate things were going, he would end up sacrificing everything on that altar.

“It’s a little like home,” Emerald muttered, pausing to frame a picture of the tall building at the center of town with one hoof. “Bigger, though. I bet it doesn’t snow as much here.”

“They have all four seasons instead of one,” Sharp said cheerfully. “Instead of just doing snow clearing, they do the whole thing. I don’t know much more about it, beyond the Elements living here.”

“Who are…?” Emerald prompted. Once across the bridge, there was an instant halt to homes, replaced with towering trees that made Ponyville itself turn to indistinct flickers.

“Right, I forget sometimes how far north Sleighsburg really is. You don’t get much news, good or bad. The Elements are the Elements of Harmony. They’re… national heroes, I suppose you’d call them. They come from here, though I couldn’t tell you much more than that. I’ve been up north for three years now, and I missed a lot of news.”

He stopped suddenly, pointing at a patch of flat grass not far from the road. There was a fence on one side, and a field of fruit trees just beyond. They looked heavily laden with a harvest, enough to feed them indefinitely if they were brave enough.

Is this really where we’re at, stealing fruit from some farmer’s field? Theo didn’t feel hungry enough to try tonight.

She put on her headlamp, then helped Sharp set up the tent as best she could. It was nothing as nice as she could’ve checked out from the base, if she needed one. Wooden poles, simple canvas sheets, hooks and lines to hold everything together. Maybe the Scouts of a century ago would’ve been happy with it.

There was barely enough room for all three of them inside, but this wasn’t her first night using it. For as different as ponies were, she easily could’ve imagined a trip like this when she was younger, right down to the sleeping bags and barely enough floorspace.

Theo did her best to avoid touching anypony else in the tight quarters, but that equated to “completely impossible.” Whoever had designed the tent hadn’t been the least bit concerned about that.

She gave up squirming after a few minutes, just like she did every night. At least she could trust the ones she was trapped with.

Morning came not with the distant calling of a rooster, or some other appropriate country sign, but with someone tapping on their tent door. “Excuse me,” said a voice—polite enough, though the accent gave Theo a little trouble. “I can hear somepony in there, if you wouldn’t mind a word.”

Theo rose, but Sharp was quicker, shaking himself out and unbuttoning the front of the tent. Light streamed in, along with a brief glimpse of the mare standing out there. For as long as Theo had been surviving in Equestria, this pony seemed almost normal in her orange and blonde coloration—she could imagine something like this being bred in some petting zoo somewhere, maybe.

The oversized hat broke the illusion, though.

Sharp shut the tent door behind him, though he only buttoned the flap enough to keep it from falling. “What can we do for you, Miss…”

“Applejack,” the pony said politely. “And that depends. It ain’t every mornin’ I see folks have gone and set up on the edge ah my property. Ponyville has quite a nice hotel, at least that’s what I hear.”

There was an uncomfortable silence from Sharp, before he finally said, “We’ve had… quite the string of misfortunes, Miss Applejack. I’m afraid most hotels expect bits we can’t pay.”

“Yeah?” Applejack poked briefly at the flap, glancing inside. Theo caught a brief look at her face, then her ears flattened. But the pony barely even noticed her. “That filly in there, she yours? I’ve got a sister about her age.”

Another awkward silence. “Not by birth. I’m supposed to be training her to be a blacksmith. But my workshop crashed into a pond, so I haven’t been able to train her lately.”

“Blacksmith, huh? Are you willing to work, Mr…?”

“Sharp Edge,” he said. “And yes. I’m happy to work, and my friend Summer is too.”

“Well, Sharp Edge, if you look over your shoulder there, you’ll see my family’s farm. We’ve got just over sixty acres, most of it ready to harvest. But in my experience, it’s mighty difficult to bring in a harvest when your equipment is broken. I’d rather pay a pony like you who’s down on his luck than… buying replacements to everything we own from city folk. Nothing we buy new lasts half as long as what a pony made with love. And your friend—she ain’t a pony, but if she can pull a cart, that’s enough to help with the harvest.”

Theo was perfectly willing to let Sharp do most of the talking—but she’d been listening passively from inside the tent for long enough. Listening, and occasionally glancing to one side to check on Emerald. But the filly was still asleep, just as she’d rather be.

Theo fumbled with the button, and emerged a second later beside Sharp. “I can pull a cart,” she said, shaking out her wings now that she wasn’t trapped in such a confined space. “We just need enough bits for a few train tickets—could we earn that helping with your harvest?”

Applejack nodded. “That, and room and board while you’re helpin’. Somewhere a mite better than sleeping on canvas and eating grass. My family knows how to respect hard work.”

She shared a look with Sharp. There was no need for either of them to say anything to reach an understanding—what better chance would they get?

“Yes,” they said together. “We’d be happy to help.”

The pony extended a hoof—towards Sharp, but Theo wouldn’t feel that sour about it. “Welcome aboard.”

It took a few hours to get situated—Applejack’s family farm was clearly not the kind that overflowed with wealth as many farmers did, but of the “just barely scraping by” variety. No wonder they wanted a blacksmith to fix all their old equipment, rather than buying new stuff.

Their farmhouse seemed comfortable enough, but Theo and the others wouldn’t even be living in it. There was an oversized barn beside it, relatively new compared to everything else around. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve kept ponies up in here during a harvest season…” Applejack muttered, as they carried bundles of bedding and supplies from the farmhouse to the open barn door.

There were stalls inside, though they were more like open-faced rooms and less like somewhere to keep animals contained without room to turn around. Without prompting or permission, Applejack helped them set up one big and one little bed in one stall, and another in the one beside it.

She showed them around the property, told them about mealtimes and the facilities, then brought them out bowls of steaming oatmeal with fresh apples. Theo hadn’t much cared for the stuff before, but just now anything hot was a welcome relief.

Applejack seemed far more interested in Sharp’s help than her own—as it turned out, the family had a forge under a tin roof behind the barn, something old but apparently functional. She spent over an hour with Sharp and Emerald there, and didn’t come for Theo herself until early afternoon.

“Hey, uh…” Applejack trailed off, her voice nervous. “Can’t say I got yer name, or if I did I’m having trouble remembering it.”

“Summer Ray,” she said, rising from her cot and settling her wrinkled and smeared technical log to one side. She’d been stripping used pages with her claws, carefully cutting it down to something she could use. “I’m going to help with the harvest, right?”

“Sure are,” Applejack said. “Though on account of… not bein’ an earth pony and all, you ain’t got quite the same contributions to make as one of us might. I don’t mean to be impolite ‘er nothing, but—”

“I get it,” she answered, voice level. “Ponies have magic. Sharp is incredibly strong when he wants to be. I assume I just don’t have the strength to do as much as you could.”

Applejack nodded. “Now if only other creatures could be half as reasonable. But then, we ain’t never got a hippogriff ‘round here who wasn’t going to the school. Suppose you’re… not going to the school.”

“Nope,” she said, following Applejack from the barn. As much as the idea of farm work put her to sleep, at least she’d be doing something. Better than sitting around all day and letting her brain turn to slime. “We’re trying to get to Manehattan, actually.”

Applejack nodded again. Just outside the barn, there were a few old wooden carts. Some were empty, while others were packed with barrels of apples. Another pony was already strapped to one, waving politely as they approached.

“This here is my brother, Big Mac. He’ll be taking these to market. All you have to do is follow me or my sister around. We fill the barrels, you pull the cart, so we don’t have to hitch up and down. Think you can do that?”

“Sure,” Theo answered. “I’ve never pulled a cart before, but I assume it… can’t be that hard, right? Just wear the weird thing and… walk?”

“Yeah, the ‘weird thing’.” Applejack eyed her wings as Theo approached the harness. “You’ll have to hold those out of the way while I get this on you. But they’re made to fit a pegasus pony if they have to, and you’re about that size.”

She was bigger than Applejack, though not so large as her gigantic brother. And without the unquantifiable magic of the earth ponies, she wouldn’t be as strong either. But at least if I’m out here in the middle of nowhere working on a farm, Stratus isn’t going to be able to track me down and arrest me for waving a flare gun in his face.

The harness did fit, though it took a little finagling. They settled it onto her back and shoulders, then finally tightened a few straps until she was secure. The skin under her wings wasn’t thrilled to have pads pushed up against it, but at least it wasn’t tearing or anything. She would be able to work with this.

That was what she did—following Applejack around as she passed through her sprawling fields of apples.

Not a monoculture, as she was quick to explain at almost every turn. “These here are Golden Delicious, try one” or “Gala apples, favorite for foals” or “These Granny Smith apples make great jam.”

But Theo didn’t have much to say about them, other than, “My mother used to make some fantastic strudel filled with fresh apples. I wish she’d made it more, but when it took so many hours to make it work—I can see why she wouldn’t want to work in the kitchen hammering butter into the dough all day.”

Applejack paused, grinning. “You know, it’s been right ages since I had my uncle’s strudel.” She paused, wrinkling her nose. “Did I say that right?” She turned and bucked another tree, causing all the fruit to rain down into a waiting barrel.

Everything about her harvesting method made no sense to Theo—her kicks could somehow dislodge all the ripe fruit from the trees, without scattering them or damaging the trunks. She’d seen at least one set of “clippers on long poles” rusting away in the barn, but Applejack hadn’t even brought them.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. Most America—” Just because her accent seemed to translate in a similar way didn’t mean she should let her biases shape her thinking. Indeed, the word only made the pony’s face twist into more confusion. “Most ponies can’t say it.”

“Well, I know we love finding new things to do with the apples. Do you know the recipe?”

She nodded weakly. “It’s not easy, but… I think I could. I’m not sure if you’d like it, though.” I’m not even sure if any of your ingredients would act the same way. It’s amazing you horses even have butter.

“Hey, just cuz I look humble and all don’t mean I ain’t got a little cosomo… cosmopolitan in there somewhere.” She heaved a barrel up into the cart, took an empty one, and made her way to the next tree. Theo followed, straining against the harness until the cart started to roll. It was easy enough when the thing was empty, but pulling it while full gave her new sympathy for carriage horses. “I’ve been to Seaquestria twice. Swam through the, uh… not streets, but whatever you hippogriffs call ‘em. But so long as you don’t need no… fish, or anemones, or… seaweed… you should find everything you need in our kitchen.”

What the hell are you talking about? Theo had heard something about this, near when she first arrived. The ponies had wanted to return her to the sea, and it hadn’t felt like they wanted her dead exactly. Sharp had said something about it too, if she could only remember…

But she didn’t want to seem like an idiot in front of the one who was paying them, so she only said, “It doesn’t need anything like that. Butter, flour, eggs, sugar, salt… basic stuff. But it’s hard work, not like that slop pretending to be food you can buy at a gas station. Real strudel has hundreds of layers, and each one has to be individually beaten and folded into the dough.”

“Tomorrow,” Applejack promised. “My granny’s quite the cook, you’ll find. And I’d happily pull the cart myself for a bit if it means I get to try something new.”

I’ll happily spend the day in the kitchen making old family recipes if it means I don’t have to pull a damn cart full of fruit.

But she kept pulling the damned cart, until it felt like her hooves would fall off, her claws would fall off, and her back would tear open. Any confusion she had about how Applejack could look so lean and healthy vanished completely by the time she finally unhooked for the last time, and practically melted onto the floor.

“I can see you, uh… ain’t much about physical work,” Applejack said. She hadn’t been impolite about it, but Theo could tell she’d had to stop more than once to let her catch up. Maybe that was why she’d been so open to having Theo cook instead. “What did you do back in Seaquestria, anyway?”

She might’ve sounded smarter if she wasn’t so exhausted. “Computer programmer,” she answered, completely by reflex. “Though at Barrow that mostly meant technical support. I didn’t program anything so much as get improperly submitted packages to run on our mainframe.”

“Oh,” Applejack said, her tone flat and completely uncomprehending. “Well, uh… that’s it for the day, Summer. Feel free to head back inside, or… gosh, maybe a shower. It ain’t hot, but it’s cleaner than what we’ve been doing.”

She nodded gratefully, then went off to do just that. Only when she was done did she finally head behind the barn, to where the sound of hammers on metal still rang through the growing gloom.

Sharp Edge stood over an anvil like Hephaestus himself, hammering away with a strange mechanism that wrapped hammer to hoof and let him swing with all his force. Then he lifted, returning the length of metal to the forge. Emerald started pumping away at the bellows, looking up as Theo approached.

“Hey Summer! Hope… you… had fun…”

“About as much fun as you two, by the look of it.” She kept her voice low, which was easier to do over the gentle breath of the bellows than it might’ve been over the thunder of each hammer blow. “You’ve been working even longer than I have, Sharp. Maybe you should call it for the day?”

He nodded, wiping sweat from his brow with the hoof that wasn’t strapped into a multi-jointed length of metal. “Just… got to finish with this last harness. I fixed it earlier today, but the big red one already broke it.”

Theo retreated as it emerged from the flames again, watching as Sharp returned to the anvil. He hammered it into shape with a few more strokes, then quenched it in a nearby barrel of water. Only then did he finally hang it from a hook to dry, rather than returning it to the forge. “I think… that’s probably enough, Emerald.”

“Great,” she said, voice numb. “Can’t say I… thought being a blacksmith would be so…”

“It isn’t,” Sharp muttered. “Most forges I’ve worked in have mechanical bellows these days. This equipment is old… but still in working order, so respect to the Apples for proper maintenance.” He slumped onto his haunches, finally seeming to really see Theo for the first time. “How was the farm work?”

Theo resisted the temptation to just start swearing, shivering at the ghost-pressure of the harness on her neck and back. “Let’s just say… now I know why I spent so much time at university. And I’m deeply sympathetic to anyone who didn’t.”

Emerald looked completely lost, and Sharp not much better. But she didn’t give him enough time to question. “How long do you think all this will take?”

He shrugged, glancing to one side at the pile of broken and rusted farm equipment. “Some of this stuff is so bad it’s more like iron ore than steel. Maybe… a week? How long does a harvest take?”

Theo shrugged. “Better than sleeping outside and bathing in rivers.”

“Do you still want to…” Sharp hesitated for another second longer. “You still insist on meeting the, uh… meeting Kat-ate?”

“I’d like to.”

Sharp shook his head, but after a day of work he looked weary more than angry. “That thing we found in the engines was in a Feather pipe. Then the ambassador to the hippogriffs acts way shady and tries to stop other Travelers from getting back to Mt. Aris. Feels like… feels like this is all connected.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, staring down at his hooves. “This feels like something she’d do. Bring down an airship, even though it might kill the ones inside. Just like her.”

“You know the one who sent that letter?” Theo advanced on him, though she wasn’t wearing her saddlebags and couldn’t pull it out. It was still tucked away in the barn. “I thought you said you didn’t know other Travelers.”

“None like you,” Sharp said, then he turned away. “I’m going for a shower. Emerald, keep an eye on the forge until the coal runs out, then you’re done for the day.”

“Sure,” she called weakly, opening a heavy metal door with a hook and glancing inside. The bed of coals was already a deep red, and looked like it would be fully burned out soon.

“Why would she give us that coupon if she was going to turn around and hurt us?” Theo called, raising her voice just a little. “Those big ponies could’ve hurt us, but they just delivered and left. You’re being paranoid!”

Sharp Edge didn’t respond, didn’t even turn around. He just stalked around the barn to the farmhouse, and out of sight.

“What do you think, Emerald?” Theo asked, as Sharp left them behind. “If you were the only one of your kind in a strange new world, but then you found somepony from home had been there all along—would you want to meet them?”

“Of course I would!” Emerald began. “But… Sharp is really smart, Summer. He always knows when I’m making a mistake. I think it’s called… street smarts. I don’t know why, it’s nothing to do with maps. But he knows things. If he thinks meeting with the one who sent the letter is a bad idea…”

“He thought the embassy was a good idea,” Theo interrupted. “And I almost got dragged off to an insane asylum.”

Emerald shrugged. “All I know is, he’s taken good care of me. He always knew better than… the others around. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to tell us things, but I know he must have a good reason. I trust him.”

“I trust him too,” Theo sad, slumping onto her haunches. “But coming here… aside from you two, Equestria has been a string of bad luck. Everything I touch seems like it goes wrong. The one who sent the letter—she seems like she knows what it’s like. She sent us money…” Not money, she sent a way to get money that makes me go through her. “Why would she go to all that trouble if she isn’t nice?”

Emerald didn’t have an answer. Nor would Sharp Edge share anything more about his contact with Feather, whoever she was. Theo didn’t push too hard—the pony was working himself ragged for her, and the guilt of that truth weighed heavily on her.

Her next day cooking proved far more successful than her first helping with the cart. By the next, Applejack had found something new for her to do, letting her tiny sister pull the cart while Theo used her claws and dexterity to pack crates for shipping. It was painfully boring work, but at least it was something she could do that didn’t make her body feel like it was coming apart at the seams.

She wanted to visit the town, but Sharp seemed to think it would be a bad idea to leave a trail for the authorities to follow, assuming they were looking. Applejack hadn’t confronted them, but that might just be ignorance. Their best chance of staying hidden was not making noise.

Sharp’s estimate of a week proved to be overly optimistic, however. The harvest went on long enough that other hooves were brought in, and the stalls in the barn started to fill up. But Theo didn’t mind that—none of them seemed to mind that she was there, and packing crates with an occasional baking break wasn’t so bad.

Eventually they finished with the last tree, and the Apples held a celebratory meal for all involved. It was the kind of thing that Theo herself would’ve happily avoided back home, but now that she was around ponies and their laser-focus on social interaction, she didn’t really have a choice.

Besides, the barn itself had been transformed into a party hall, so it wasn’t like she could hide anywhere. She did her best to stay in the background, watching as the earth ponies chatted among themselves about the “great seedling” and other such folktales.

Eventually she wandered over to where Sharp was chatting with Applejack and her friends—just because she didn’t much want to socialize, didn’t mean her companions shared her weaknesses.

As she approached, she could see Sharp was engrossed in conversation with the party planner and a blue pegasus, who’d downed several bottles of cider already and yet still hadn’t collapsed.

“That seems stupid,” the pegasus said. “Not that I’m calling you… obviously you’re not stupid if you built a whole airship. But why spend all your bits on train tickets, when you could use it for metal to fix what you built? Don’t you want to fly again?”

“Yeah.” He sounded wistful. “But it’s not about the metal. It’s about the recovery team. Do you have any idea how much a pegasus search and rescue team costs?”

The pegasus waved him off with a wing. “I mean, maybe if you didn’t have help. But my friend here was basically in hysterics over her whole farm rusting away, and she hasn’t complained to me in a week. That is worth more than bits.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Applejack muttered, nursing her cup.

“You’re not that bad anymore,” Rainbow corrected. “But I’m serious. You’ve got a forge right here… Applejack doesn’t mind if you stay a little longer, does she?”

The farm pony shook her head. “Of course not. You did good work. And your, uh… your friend helped too.” She looked up, meeting Theo’s eyes awkwardly. Theo looked away, settling down beside Sharp. She wasn’t going to try and press a pony like this into lying that she’d actually been useful.

“So there we go,” Rainbow declared. “I’ll get your ship here, and instead of wasting bits on a train ticket you can get your wings back. Simple as that.”

Sharp looked like he might cry. After a few seconds he nodded, looking away. “We’d be… very grateful.”

Chapter 21: And Did Something Else

Theo didn’t get to go on the expedition to retrieve the airship. It wasn’t anything personal—even Sharp Edge wasn’t able to go. The team the blue pegasus brought wasn’t so much a group of trained experts as a dozen pegasus ponies from halfway across Equestria.

If it was Theo’s airship, she probably would’ve told the pegasus “no thanks” at that point. But Sharp seemed to recognize some of them, and the knowledge made him more willing to let them make the trip.

There was no more work to do around the farm, but the Apples didn’t kick them out. They still had the run of the barn, and meals when they wanted them, leaving Sharp to use the lion’s share of their bits for whatever repairs might be required.

“Assuming we can even fix her,” he muttered, whenever the Apples weren’t close enough to hear. “There’s a chance we won’t be able to get even one of her engines working. In that case… guess we just tow her out to a field somewhere. Wonder if there’s anywhere we could park it long term while I save up for a replacement engine.”

“Jet engines aren’t that hard,” Theo answered. “Some friends and I made one for a bicycle in metal shop. If we can do that, you can fix yours.”

“A jet engine,” he repeated. “Like those designs in your notebook. The strange… empty loop of metal that air passes through. That actually does something?”

“It produces thrust. I don’t know how it compares to the efficiency of what you were using before. Some kind of… internal combustion. They’re at least as efficient under the right conditions, I can promise you that.”

“Well, here’s hoping I won’t need your help to build one,” Sharp said. “I’m… not entirely optimistic about the prospects. I shouldn’t have let that pony talk me into it. That’s exactly why I stay away from cider.”

The airship arrived the next day, kept aloft by a full gasbag and struggling pegasus ponies alike. As soon as they let off on the heavy lines, the whole thing sagged, shuddering down to land with a rough thump behind the Apple family barn. Several birds took off from the nearest trees, calling out with agitation as the gigantic object suddenly broke their sky.

Theo watched from inside the barn as Sharp emerged to speak with the crew, circling the Horizon with them. Its hull was flat enough for it to land standing up, though it was still soaking wet and water trailed from inside even now. Bits of debris had fallen across the gasbag, which seemed to only half-inflate. The worst damage by far was on the engines hanging off the side, which were two hunks of rough scrap now. Incredibly complicated, internal-combustion scrap built by a single eccentric inventor.

When Sharp finally returned, he looked disheartened. “There’s, uh… basically nothing salvageable in either engine,” he said. “Plumbing is shot, gasbag has holes. Celestia help us if I want to fix the deck wherever there was water damage, because that’s another thousand bits of lumber…”

Summer reached out, settling one of her wings on his shoulder with a comforting pressure. Sharp looked up but didn’t push her away. “How much do we have?”

“Five hundred bits,” he said. “Or thereabouts.”

“And how much would it cost to get us into the air, minimum?”

“Repairs to the gasbag… that’s one hundred gone. Another fifty if I buy scrap wood from Applejack to fix the rudder and some of the mechanical steering. But I couldn’t replace the engines for twice that, not if I had all the time in the world to work. And… as generous as this family has been, we don’t have that time. We’re completely bucked.”

“Unless…” Theo let go of him, hurrying over a few steps into her stall, removing the sketchbook and flipping through it to her simple turbojet engine. “What if instead of two engines that hung out the side, we just built one of these, which could live right inside a stripped-down lower section. What if we built this? Could you put this together for… three hundred fifty bits?”

Sharp Edge stared down at the drawings for a long time, expression screwed up in concentration. Finally, he looked up. “I can’t tell why this would work, Summer. The propellers are internal, and it hardly does anything to convert the fuel into motion. There are no gears, no pistons, no…”

She pushed his mouth closed with one of her wings. “It’s the simplicity that makes them so powerful. All we have to do is get our fuel into the air and ignite it at the right temperature. Heat pushes air out the back, spinning the fan to compress new air coming in. They work, I promise. Way smarter people than me came up with these over a hundred years of engineering.”

Sharp Edge held up the sketchbook again, squinting at the turbine with its many intricate blades. This was the most complicated part of any design, and the part with the least tolerance. If even one of those little fan-blades snapped off while the engine was in motion, the rest of its internal parts would explosively disassemble like a shotgun in all directions.

“What is this even made of?” he finally asked. “This fan and shaft here, this is the most complex. I see… a hundred blades, in just a few types. Could cast these, perhaps, work them together by magic. But I don’t think I could build it from steel.”

“No,” Theo agreed. “The turbines are made of aluminum… I think alloyed with copper, but I’m not sure about the ratios. That’s metallurgy, and that was never my thing. The whole object is aluminum except this part right here.” She pointed at the combustion chamber. “There’s going to be heat and pressure in there unlike anything you’ve ever seen in a combustion engine. I don’t know, maybe you could make this part from steel. But they made the engines back home from titanium.”

He dropped the sketchbook. “So, to summarize all that—you want me to build a single engine that can produce more thrust than two propellers. It’s going to be made of material so weak they use it to make food cans, cast into shapes not even as thick as my hoof, all running into a vessel made of… a metal I’ve never even heard of.” He dusted off the notebook, passing it back to her. “That sounds completely insane. Do you have any internal combustion designs we could use instead?”

“Well…” She winced. “They’re actually more complicated.” She gestured out the open door, to where one of the old engines hung off the ship like a tumor. “Think about all the pipes and tubes and timings. I know the basics about how they work—but not enough to fix one. When my car broke down, I hired a mechanic.”

“You hired a mechanic to help with your combustion engines, designs so advanced that almost nopony in Equestria understand how they work—but you made a ‘turbojet’ in ‘metal shop,’ a design so advanced it looks like it won’t do anything at all but waste our bits, even if we can build it.”

“It’s the best method there is for somepony in our position,” Theo said, settling down onto her haunches and folding her wings flat against her back. “It’s your airship, so I won’t tell you what to do. But what I will do is promise you that it’ll work. We could probably simplify the turbines quite a bit, ignore this second fan here, get rid of the bypass. It would cost us in fuel economy, but I don’t think your last engines cared about that either.”

“This one engine,” Sharp repeated, “will make up for two of the most advanced combustion engines ever built, running at the same time.”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “Think about how much lighter we’ll be without your huge engines—this one is mostly aluminum, and it’s the whole thing. No separate propeller assembly. The only tricky part is figuring out how to mount it so it pushes the whole ship, instead of ripping out or tearing the Horizon in half. But I’m sure you can figure that out. You’re obviously a great engineer.”

“Blacksmith,” he said, ears flat. “I’m just a blacksmith.”

“Liar.”

He looked like he might argue, but in the end, he just sighed. He picked up the sketchbook, flipping through it again, and eventually settling on the design. “I’ll need your help with this. Maybe not hammering out everything in the forge with me, but… nopony has ever built anything like this. And I still don’t know if it will even work.”

“We could build a little model to let me prove it to you,” Theo said. “But that will probably take a few days at least, maybe longer. Do you want to waste all that time?”

“No,” he finally said, defeated. “Alright, Summer Ray. This is… the most insane thing I’ve ever done. More than giving up my whole life to travel the world with a stranger I barely know. If it doesn’t work…” He didn’t sound angry, but utterly defeated. “I’m not sure what I’ll do. But…”

His eyes widened suddenly, and he darted out the open barn doors. Fast enough that Emerald poked her head out from her stall, looking concerned. “Is… something wrong?”

“I’ll find out,” she muttered, following Sharp. She didn’t gallop, mostly because she just couldn’t go that fast with claws. But the airship had been parked just beside the open doors for good reason, and so soon enough she was beside him.

Sharp Edge had started ripping his precious engines apart, or at least removing the outer shell to expose the mechanical inner-workings inside. “I have no idea about your design,” he said, taking a wrench off his belt and going to work loosening something.

“Maybe it’s brilliant, I have no idea. But I know manufacturing tolerances when I see them, and I couldn’t build your thing. But… you gave me an idea. Just one engine, tucked away in the middle, instead of one on each side. Well, both my engines are melted—but they didn’t melt the same way. I bet between the two of these, there are enough intact parts to make one that works. That will cut our top speed quite a bit, we won’t be the fastest thing in the air by a longshot anymore. But she’ll be infinitely faster than the zero she can manage right now.”

He turned, leaning past Theo. “Emerald! Emerald, I need your help!”

She emerged from inside the barn seconds later—probably she’d already been on her way. She stopped right in front of them, saluting with one wing. “Yes, master Sharp Edge?”

“You and Summer should go to the deck and remove the cargo crate marked ‘12’. The drill press is in there—get it down here and assembled, just how it was in Sleighsburg. You’re right, Summer. I’m not just a blacksmith. But I’m not an engineer either, I’m a machinist. It’s time to go to work.”

As much as Theo wanted to be there for her companion, there was very little she could do for Sharp after that. Moving heavy crates took only a few minutes—there weren’t that many to unload, or else they wouldn’t have fit on the Horizon in the first place—and soon enough her presence beside the wrecked ship would just get in the way.

For the first few days of the repair, she haunted the workshop like a ghost, assisting Emerald the way Emerald helped Sharp. But quickly enough it became obvious that her presence there was only slowing everything down—maybe Sharp didn’t have the heart to send her away, but he clearly wanted to, and so eventually she left the machinist to his work.

There were other things to do on the Horizon, things that didn’t require technical skill. She braved the Apple farmhouse to ask for advice, and soon Applejack was leading her up the ramp—past the pair of totally stripped engines and the makeshift harness going up for the single replacement—and into the chamber they affectionately referred to as “belowdecks.”

Applejack whistled quietly to herself as she saw the comfortable living quarters—or what had been, now destroyed. The cloth was torn, the wood warped, and the pipes ripped right off the wall. It didn’t seem like the plumbing or the electric lights would be working again anytime soon.

“You sure are in need of a handymare,” Applejack said. “I don’t suppose that’s you. Wait, I can guess. With the way you pulled the cart, I’m gonna throw a horseshoe out into the dark and say that you never would’ve worked a day in your life if it wasn’t for us. It’s alright—nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

She nodded grimly. “Where I come from, how strong I was never mattered. It was all about how smart you were, how resourceful and clever and diligent. But this room doesn’t just need clever. Do you know how to…” She gestured at the soggy floor. “Did you ask Sharp how his airship got this way?”

She shook her head. “Can’t say I thought it was my business. And to be honest, I had my doubts about the story. Fewer questions I asked meant fewer times he had to lie. It’s only polite.”

“Well… we don’t know why we got attacked, but I’m pretty sure it was because of me. He’s flown all over the world in this thing, and only when I’m with it is he worth bombing out of the air. It feels like… I should be doing something to try and make it up to him. Do you think you could… show me what to do, to fix this place? I don’t need you… doing much work, or even any of it really. Just giving me instructions. I may not be as strong as an earth pony, but I’m determined to make this right.”

Applejack circled her once in the tight bedroom. She nudged a window pane, and it wiggled completely out of its metal mounting. She caught it—narrowly—settling it onto the ground at their hooves. She ran one of her hooves against the wood floor, until bits of warped wood started flaking away.

“See this?” she asked, pointing down at the spot.

Theo leaned down to look. “This is all warped on top—but it wasn’t in the water long enough to really soak in. Down below the surface, there’s strength left. This was a strong tree once… spruce, if I’m not wrong. And I’m probably not. Don’t spend your whole life around trees without learning a thing or two about them. I think we could make something of this yet. You’ve got the bits now for what you’ll need, but it isn’t much. Most of what you’ll need is just hard work. There’s no substitute, not on this side of Seaquestria or yours.”

“Yes!” she said. Practically screamed, except that then she’d alert Sharp far below. He was barely aware of anything outside his world of broken engines and new parts, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Applejack wasn’t exaggerating when she said that it would be mostly hard work. Summer went into town to buy a few things from Barnyard Bargains, but most of her time was spent in the former bedroom. She cleared away broken furniture and hopelessly ruined blankets, then went to work. She stripped away the damaged wood, smoothed and sanded entirely by claw, then lacquered and varnished.

Applejack was an exacting taskmaster, but at least she knew how to fix things made of wood.

By the time Sharp had completely disassembled both of his engines and started mapping out how he would assemble them into one, Theo had finished with the walls and floors and went to work on the pipes. Then came the wires, and the much-needed research into pony electrical systems.

It was a trip she’d wanted to make anyways, given that she had now been in Ponyville for well over a month, and whatever fears she’d initially felt about an imminent arrest were clearly erroneous. Maybe the ambassador didn’t care, or maybe he’d just been so thoroughly convinced of the bluff that he didn’t plan on investigating.

Either way, Theo had seen a single structure rising above Ponyville’s opposite side, one that made even city hall look like a child’s toy. It seemed to be built from the same almost-glass that the skyscrapers of the Crystal Empire were constructed from, only instead of looking like real buildings this designer had built the whole thing into an absurd rendition of a tree.

How or why someone would go to such lengths, Theo didn’t really know or care. What mattered was that there was a library inside, and she needed to check out a few things.

She didn’t want to go alone—but Sharp was in his own way an even more exacting taskmaster than Applejack. Rather than pop into the room twice a day to check on her, Sharp was beside Emerald all the time, and needed her constantly.

“But he’ll be done with me soon, I’m sure. Once we finish taking apart the old engine mounts and put in the new one, it will be all reassembling the one good engine. He hasn’t let me touch it once, and I’m pretty sure that won’t change. I could go with you then!”

“Sure,” Theo promised. “We’ll go then.” And they would, but she hoped to be completely done with her repairs before that happened. Sharp Edge might be so focused on the engines that he barely saw the real world anymore, but Emerald could pierce that veil, and she would the instant she bothered to walk up the stairs of the Horizon and look around.

Theo arrived at the library early one morning, wearing her empty saddlebags and carrying some bits just in case. She’d been to plenty of libraries on Earth and never had to pay, but there was no way to know. Maybe they’d see that she didn’t live here and demand she pay some fee.

But the incredible tree-castle-whateveritwas wasn’t just a library, but something else as well. There were burly stallions standing at the base, wearing golden armor like those she’d seen from Canterlot’s police. They eyed her as she approached, though none of them stopped her.

Until she got close enough to talk, and the orange one opened his mouth. “Ooh, a real hippogriff! Are you here to negotiate an important treaty with the princess? What’s it’s like to live underwater? Do you like flying or swimming more?”

She stopped dead, eyes widening with confusion and a little concern. But she’d much rather have an overzealous pony who didn’t understand the first thing about what was really going on than one that would drag her off to an insane asylum. “No treaty,” she said, slowing down just a little out of politeness. “I hear the library is in here, is that still true?”

The guard held the door open for her. “Sure is! Along with the princess’s castle. Most of that is off limits, except for the throne-room if there’s no court in session. There are tours on Mondays and Fridays if you want one.”

“I’ll have to come back for one,” she said, hurrying away before the guard could remember her face, or else change his mind and decide to attack. He did neither as she wrapped the loop of stairs around the “trunk” of the crystal tree.

That was the downside of such an outwardly spectacular design from such a primitive culture: they apparently lacked any elevators suited to a building like this.

But they should have them, right? They have combustion engines and steam engines and cables, so…

Theo wasn’t here to consider the strange hodgepodge of pony technologies, but to search for the specific information required to revive some of her toys.

Theo circled the inside of the strange castle’s tower (trunk?), walking around and around and ignoring the obvious empty shaft running directly up the center. Evidently the place had been built with flyers in mind, though the sort of motions that the flyers did still amazed her. Emerald could take off from a total standstill, accelerate to incredible speeds, stop almost instantly—her flight performance was almost magic.

She was getting distracted again. Theo emerged from the steps a moment later, into a spacious mezzanine of polished crystal. It all looked like one single, flawless geode, as though it had grown this way right out of the ground. How such things could even exist defied simple understanding. But clearly they did, and she was walking through one. If this stupid thing caves in on me while I’m inside it, I’m going to haunt it until the end of time.

One thing the strange castle didn’t have were direction signs. But there was a little lizard creature, holding several books under its arms and hurrying somewhere. Where would you hurry with all those books if not into the library?

“Wait!” Theo jogged after him, catching up after just a few steps. Each step was slightly painful on her ears—sharp claws striking the floor like it was glass. But however much it might sound like it would shatter on her, there was no sign of cracks or even scratches at her steps.

The lizard did stop, looking up at her with a friendly, slightly strained expression. “I’m sorry, but Twilight needs me in the library. I can’t give tours right now.”

He started walking again, but Theo hurried along behind him. “That’s perfect! The library is where I was hoping to go. Could you lead me there?”

“Oh, sure.” He relaxed, slowing his desperate scramble just a bit. “I just assumed, since you’re a hippogriff and all, you’d be here for the tour.”

“Wish I had time,” she said, reaching up to finger briefly at her necklace. “My whole visit to Equestria feels like it’s been rushed, or… more like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t. That it might be snatched away any second, and I’ll be dragged back to reset servers and unplug cables until I die.”

“That bad, huh?” The lizard’s smile was sympathetic. “Every time I get annoyed with whatever Twilight has for me, something comes along to remind me it could be worse.”

They ascended another set of steps together, though this one was just one flight. There was a large open doorway up ahead—the floor above was much larger than the narrow trunk, in ways that would’ve given any structural engineer a stroke. But a familiar smell drifted down those steps, one that Theo had sensed vanishingly rarely. The smell of many old books, quietly moldering away. It was the smell of comfortable afternoons, and a refuge from those who didn’t approve of her choices. An artifact that her children, if she ever had any, would probably never know.

“Sorry,” Theo said lamely. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just here for books, not here to make it hard for other people to sleep.”

“Well we’ve got books,” he said. “And it must be important if you felt the need to come all the way out here for it. Guess it makes sense. Mt. Aris got raided, and books must not do well underwater. Do you write on shells, or…?”

“I’ve never been there,” she said, without thinking. “So, I have no idea.”

Then they crested the stairs, into the library. For the vastness of the castle, it was surprisingly modest—a two story room with a balcony running around the top. There were chairs and benches scattered in the center of a space lined with shelves, chairs made of crystal that looked about as comfortable to sit on as cement. But books were books, and this place had more than she’d seen since the Crystal Empire. Hopefully what I need hasn’t been snatched away like the charts. Now that she thought about it, that event was probably connected too. Someone or something didn’t want anyone finding their way back to the hippogriff city.

There was a single pony at the top of the stairs, a purple one with an impatient look on her face. She seemed at a glance like the sort of person who belonged in a library—her hair was slightly bookish, and her eye-contact with the lizard-thing wasn’t the best. She was more occupied with work spread out on one of the tables. “Spike, fantastic. I’ve gone over the whole catalogue, and if I’m not mistaken those three books are the last…”

“Oh, uh… was that today?” She whimpered, and a nearby roll of parchment lifted from the table. A checklist, though Theo couldn’t read what was on it at such a distance. Her wings ruffled out beside her the same way Emerald’s did whenever she was agitated, some subconscious attempt to make herself bigger and more threatening.

Spike—apparently that was the creature’s name—set the pile of books in one corner of the table, then rolled his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s wrong. She doesn’t seem like she’s here on a diplomatic mission—I’m not sure she even came from Mt. Aris. Didn’t you say you’d never been there, uh…”

“Summer,” she said weakly. She could practically see that pony’s head spinning. Whoever she was, she must be important. Ponies with horns and wings both were special, she’d been in Equestria long enough to know that. Whether it was religiously special, or just some formal nobility, she didn’t know. But she tried to look as respectful as she could. “I’m not on any mission. I just wanted to look through your library for books about electrical engineering. You’ve got electricity, but my friend here barely knows anything about it.”

Her request seemed like a magic spell for the way it made the pony rise with her, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, I know I shouldn’t, but I’m always happy to help a pony use the library. Let’s see what we can find.”

Chapter 22: Learning a Few Things

Theo followed the pony at an arm’s reach, unable to suppress her constant, background fear at being around someone so important. For all the time she’d been in Equestria, she knew almost nothing about its royalty. Should she have refused the request?

For all her panic, her companion didn’t seem to be having the same concerns. She glanced at the symbols scribbled on the edge of various shelves, reading some meaning from them that Theo herself couldn’t. Some pony equivalent of the Dewey Decimal System, perhaps?

“Let’s see, you said… electrical engineering?” Sharp Edge hadn’t even known the term, but this Alicorn said it perfectly. Or at least the translation made it seem like she had. “What are you trying to do exactly, Ms. Summer? That should make it easier to find the right level of reference. Curious about pony science, or…”

“I’m trying to build a rectifier-transformer to take the output of a variable-speed combustion motor into five volts of direct current. Ideally at least one amp, but half of that should still be enough for what I need.”

The pony stopped dead, looking over her shoulder at her. Whatever fog of curious academia she’d been living in dissolved like the dew of a summer morning, and her violet eyes were suddenly keen. “You’re not the diplomat from Mt. Aris,” she said again, raising an eyebrow. “But you must know more about electricity than I do. Your requirements are remarkably, uh… specific. I assume all that must mean something.”

Theo nodded hastily, looking away. “I’m so sorry, uh… Princess? I think you must be here, the… Twilight Sparkle that oversees Ponyville? Princess Twilight Sparkle, I mean.”

Now there was recognition in her eyes. Theo’s wings bristled as her instincts told her to flee, that she’d made herself far too noticeable now. Was this what it took to get her false invocation of Celestia’s name punished? “Applejack mentioned you a week or so ago, I think. You were helping with the harvest. She didn’t think you’d worked a day in your life, but she just didn’t appreciate what work.”

Twilight hurried forward to another shelf, which looked to hold all manner of practical books. Like college textbooks, except they were for real subjects and had barely been read. Twilight gestured at a lower section of shelf, which was almost entirely empty. “This is everything we have on what you called ‘electrical engineering.’”

Her horn glowed, and suddenly the four books took to the air, spreading before Theo until they were like ghosts, flanking her. “I really should return to my inventory—this whole library thing is more incidental than it used to be. But you must have some sympathy for curiosity, right? Hippogriffs are… at least a little bit feline. I hope that’s not offensive. Is that offensive?”

“No,” Theo said, waving one wing dismissively. Of all the books, it was plain only two of them had even a slight chance of having what she needed. One was a work of fiction about making weather in the sky, while another was written for children, with huge letters and oversized illustrations. But there were two others, two chances that she might find what she was after.

She reached for them, then hesitated, looking away awkwardly. Taking something out of the air was probably offensive. For all she knew, even going near the glowing outlines in the air might be an insult. She hadn’t traveled with any unicorns yet.

But she didn’t get a chance to get even a single word in edgewise, because the pony princess just blazed right ahead. “Oh good! I know you aren’t griffons, or as proud as yaks, but you spend as much time as I have as princess, and you never know what somepony is going to get mad about.” She sat back, glancing between the two books. “Is it alright if I ask how you know pony science so well? Last I checked, Mt. Aris was still using magical light above and below the water. I can see why you never went that way, what with building underwater since the Storm King. But Spike said you weren’t actually from there.”

Because I’m an idiot and I talked to a lizard. That was probably a fitting punishment, somehow. Maybe I could use this? Twilight is important. She might be able to get Sharp and I to Mt. Aris without going through diplomatic channels. Either that, or her being a princess would make her even more beholden to abstract rules. After all, the authority of one nation interfering with another could easily be taken as an act of war, on either side of the Doorway.

“I just haven’t been home in a long time,” she said lamely, in the most disinterested tone she could manage. Hopefully bored enough that Twilight would forget about it. “Thank you so much for helping me find those books, Princess. I’ll… make sure to put them back where I got them.”

“No need to reshelf anything,” Twilight said by rote, pointing at a sign on the wall. “Just put them on the ‘Finished’ shelf. I could probably work out a way to check them out to you, if you’re staying…” Her frown deepened. She clearly hadn’t been fooled by the obvious change of subject but wasn’t sure if she was willing to just call Theo out on it. Eventually she pushed the books towards a nearby table for Theo. “What do you need… five volts one amps… for, anyway?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Call it a… science project, I guess. Just wanted to see if I could make something.” Because my whole life is stored in that tablet and I’d rather like to have it back.

The pony princess nodded reluctantly, just a drop of annoyance on her face. But she apparently resisted the urge, giving one last polite nod before returning to her work. Theo took her books to the furthest end of the library she possibly could, hiding behind a pillar so the princess wouldn’t be able to see her while she read, and be reminded of the mysteries she’d (accidentally) presented to her.

The news was both fantastically good, and fantastically bad. First, she read the older book, where Theo saw in exacting detail just how backward the conceptions of pony electricity were. A quick flip through the book told her they had no alternating current, which explained why parts of their world could be fully wired while others were still in darkness just a little further away. Even Ponyville had a hydroelectric plant, yet the farms that surrounded it still burned candles. They’d apparently never discovered batteries either, or transistors, though they at least had capacitors and resistors. To read the first textbook, it was no wonder why Twilight Sparkle hadn’t understood her. Pony conception of voltage and amperage was measured in something called ‘Lightning Fractions’, and in those units, she wasn’t sure the tiny amounts of energy Theo needed could even be easily quantified, much less built for.

But then she opened the second book. This was much newer and wasn’t really a textbook at all. It was a repair-guide, with the word “UNOFFICIAL” stamped right under a familiar Feather logo.

“Don’t take it to the Brilliant Bar—Fix It Yourself!” the bottom of the book proclaimed. She turned it over and found a similar message on the back. “Feather products might seem amazing—we love them too—but don’t be intimidated by what they tell you at the shop. Feather buys their parts same as anypony else, and you can buy them too. Fix what you bought to work a lifetime, don’t just buy a new one every time they make it smaller!”

Theo flipped through, and saw many etched-style drawings, the sort she would’ve found in books published before the turn of the century. Despite the crudity of the illustrations, what they depicted was obvious. The internals of various Feather devices, along with common problems, and ways to fix them.

Looking in here was taking everything that had been known at the time of the first book’s publication and throwing it in the garbage. This was familiar to Theo, even if it had been ages since she’d worked with stuff like this. There were breadboards here, familiar wiring principles. Here was unmistakably a Feather battery charger, which was apparently made to be operated by wind or pedal power rather than plugging into the pony grid.

She flipped from one design to the next. Though they’d been depicted by alien eyes, she stared down in fascination at products any high schooler might’ve made for an electronics project. Most Feather products seemed to amount to a breadboard with an attractive metal case around it. The designs were plainly ingenious—they used the same dozen or so components, using ten capacitors in parallel when two far larger ones in series might’ve done instead.

They had semiconductors. Nothing crazy—diodes mostly, like the Zener diode they’d paired with resistors in their battery charger. Someone is bootstrapping this civilization right into the information age, and none of them even realize it.

Theo didn’t need to dust off any of her college-neglected electrical engineering, because Feather had done it for her. Here in black and white was circuitry that ponies obviously found incomprehensible. But the intrepid pioneer hadn’t been trying for subtlety. Unless Theo was misreading, they were even labeling the transistors the same way.

Theo had prepared for the hopeful event that she might find something useful here, and she had a roll of paper with her. She sketched out the circuitry diagrams in the traditional, abstracted forms, with notations about where she suspected she would need to make alterations, then compiled a parts list. What the book suggested might be done to repair Feather electronics could easily be taken a step further—Theo would make her own.

Of course, she did have some advantages. She could ease up from a lower voltage without causing harm to the machines she was trying to charge. If she was cautious, she could eventually arrive at the safe voltage she was looking for without risk, even if she lacked anything like objective instruments.

She left the library when Twilight’s back was turned, dodging behind pillars and skipping down the stairs. Maybe there was something impolite about that, but nopony came hunting her down.

She went straight for Barnyard Bargains. Of course, the owner didn’t have parts in stock for electronics that weren’t even sold in Ponyville. But he could order them, and even had a catalogue gathering dust on a bookshelf she could look through. Theo made her order—frustrating the owner with how small it was—then went back to the Apple farm as though nothing had happened.

She found Emerald waiting for her practically at the gates, watching with an expression of desperation. “Summer, I need your help.”

“Uh… sure.” She stopped, grinning weakly at her. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. You’re better at pony things than I am.”

“Nothing like that.” She waved a dismissive wing. “I think word is getting around that we’re staying here. They want me to go to school.”

Theo stopped sitting back on her haunches and looking thoughtful. “And you… don’t want to go, I’m guessing.”

“Obviously! There’s nothing they can teach me I need. I’ve already got a personal tutor in my real job! What’s the point of learning the history of silly equestrian holidays and math I mastered years ago?”

“I’m not sure how I can help you,” Theo said. “I’m cooperative, believe me. But what do you want me to… do? I don’t think I can tell them to stop.”

“Easy.” She grinned, gliding up to perch on the edge of the fence. It was precarious even for her, but she managed. “I said that I couldn’t go today, because I was going to be teaching flying lessons. You do need flying lessons, so as long as we’re doing that…”

That’s what you meant by having me help, instead of Sharp.

“Doesn’t Sharp still need you?”

She shook her head. “Not for the delicate stuff. We’re already done making everything, it’s just about putting it together. He says that explaining how it all works enough for me to help would just make it take longer.” There was clear resentment in her tone, and obvious calling back to the bleak, depressed version of herself she had become after the death of her mother.

“Okay Emerald, I’ll help. But you don’t think this will work every day, do you? You can’t give them the same excuse over and over and expect them to just believe it.”

“I…” She hesitated. “Let’s just worry about today. I can figure out tomorrow when we get there.”

Theo returned her belongings to the barn, then set off beside Emerald down one of the trails leading further away from town. “I’m a little worried about where we’re going to practice this. The last time I went gliding, I glided straight down and faceplanted a cloud. Without a cloud, I’ll be…”

“Oh, easy.” Emerald grinned, though her smile was a little tempered now. “There’s a pond not far from here. Or a ‘watering hole.’” She shook her head, expression darkening to show exactly what she thought of that idiom. “I can fly up, bring you a cloud, then you get on and I push it up high. You can glide down to land next to the pond. Or you fail, and you get wet. Even if you can’t fly, we know you inherited hippogriff swimming.”

“I didn’t inherit swimming. I learned how to swim. I just had to… adapt it a little, is all.” But Theo didn’t complain, not during the whole trip up. Emerald’s plan sounded terrifying—she was still jumping without a parachute from a high place—but most of the hard work was Emerald’s own. It didn’t seem like some forced way to escape from school. Was that even true, or were you just finding a way to get me to say yes?

Regardless of the answer, they soon arrived at the location, and “watering hole” seemed a far more accurate description. Far from the pristine pond they’d crashed into, this place was all muddy banks and hundreds of hoofprints, with murky water and only a few lily pads stubbornly clinging to life off in one corner.

“You found me good motivation to fly,” Theo said. “I think I’d rather smack into the ground than land in there.”

Emerald glared down at her but didn’t argue. She took almost ten minutes to make it up to the clouds and back, which still seemed incredibly short to Theo.

Summer approached the edge of one with nervous shuffling, poking the edge with one disbelieving claw. “This looks… even sillier when you bring it down this far. Are you sure this is supposed to even… work?”

“Get on,” Emerald exclaimed, out of breath. “You can complain when you’re pushing me around.”

Theo climbed on. Her claws sunk into the cloud a few inches, but the same way they would’ve into a snowdrift, not what should’ve been slightly denser air. Emerald pushed, her little wings flapping desperately, and the cloud started to rise.

Was she just trying to seem as tiny and pathetic as possible, so Theo would try harder? If so, the plan was working. Despite the incredible substance of their platform, it still took Emerald five minutes to get them to a height she was satisfied with.

As they started to rise, Theo raised her voice just a little. “Y-you know they say that… falling onto water from high up is supposed to be worse than hitting the ground. It feels like we’re getting close to that high really quickly here…”

“You need space to slow from a fall,” Emerald answered, as though that were enough reason to justify the insanity of their situation. “Don’t worry, birds fall soft. You’ll see. But I don’t think you will fall. You messed it up the first time, but that was your first time. You’ll get it this time, won’t you?”

Theo didn’t want to think about how much she might hurt this child if she said no. I don’t know why you care so much about this. I’m not here to stay, what does it matter if I learn how to fly? There were other parts of her that did want to learn, the parts that still had nightmares about the Horizon’s terrible fall. If she had known how to fly properly, she probably could’ve carried Sharp to safety.

Eventually Emerald did stop them, so high up that the pond was barely more than a distant outline for her to target. Theo edged her way to the side of the cloud, wings spreading on either side of her entirely by instinct. Being a hippogriff had done nothing to make the drop to her death less terrifying. “That’s, uh… woah. You spoiled me with the clouds last time.”

“You’ll do fine.” Emerald climbed up onto the edge of the cloud, panting with effort. “It’s not… as hard as you think. Griffons just push their chicks right out of the nest, and they fly. All you have to do is keep your wings out and catch the air. It’s easy.”

“Easy for someone who grew up doing this.” Theo turned away from her, on the pretense of looking back at Ponyville. This high up, they were probably visible to half the town, though far enough out that she didn’t expect too much in the way of interruption. There was no sign of any pegasus ponies flying out here to rescue her, anyway. I shouldn’t have said yes.

Finally, she spun back around, lowering her head pensively. “So tell me how I don’t die doing this?”

Emerald perked up at the question, walking up beside her. “Easy. Spread your wings all the way—when you first jump, you’re gonna get hit with a wave of air. That’s what you’re fighting. Keep your wings out. You adjust your feathers to change direction when you’re gliding, but they’re subtle. If you tilt one wing more than the other you’ll go into a spin, and that’s hard to recover from for a new flyer. Just try and… keep them as flat as possible. That will take you forward in a straight line. If we jump off facing the farm, you should glide almost all the way back.”

“What if…” Theo’s whole body was shaking now. Emerald wasn’t the only one with a little bird heart, because hers was beating desperately now. “What if I start gliding for a while, until I’m not over the water, then I stop, and I start falling?”

“Don’t,” Emerald said simply. “I’ll be with you the whole way, but don’t do that. You were heavy enough getting up here the first time.”

Thanks. Really reassuring. She looked down one last time, at a drop that every monkey instinct left in her brain screamed would be fatal. There was no call of the void, no desire to see what happened. Only stark terror, and near-certain death. “Do I have to, Emerald? I mean… I’m not really a bird under all this. I’m not supposed to have wings. I’m supposed to have two legs. I’m supposed to sit in front of computers and make them do things. I’m supposed to watch Netflix on my tablet at night and try to play Overwatch but get kicked for my latency. I’m supposed to be—”

Emerald pushed her mouth closed gently with one wing. “I don’t know what most of that means, but… is that really what you want to be? Don’t you like it in Equestria?”

Despite everything. Theo sat back, trying to look away from the child’s insistent stare. But either Emerald knew how intense she could be, or she was just naturally trying to be so overwhelming that Theo had no choice.

“It’s not as bad as you think. You saved us from an airship crash, didn’t you? Compared to that, this is easy! Even foals can usually glide in their first few weeks.”

Theo swallowed, spreading her wings with rictus rigidity. “Okay, Emerald. I want you to, uh… I want you to break the cloud. Don’t give me a choice. Because I can tell you right now my legs are not going to let me jump.”

“Oh, sure!” Emerald jumped off the side, spinning around it once. “One, two…”

“Wait!” she squealed, eyes wide with desperate fear. “I change my mind, I—”

“Three!” Emerald bucked out with her back legs. The effect was immediate—the cloud that had felt completely solid and real beneath her puffed away as though it really was just a loose bundle of moisture, dumping Theo out into the air.

She passed briefly through a numb fugue of fear, knowing that she would certainly die and that there was nothing she could do about it. Theo learned in that instant that the stories were true—you did see memories flash in front of you right before you died.

Except then she opened her eyes, and saw she wasn’t falling. The air was rushing past her, forward instead of up from below. She looked, and realized her wings were both rigid, bent just slightly in the middle in a way that seemed entirely natural. She had already left the pond behind and glided forward like a skier’s first time on a bunny slope, with legs spread wide in a constant breaking maneuver. It felt like that, and she knew she must look terribly childish.

But compared to falling to her death, Theo could do a little childish. “I’m… flying?” she asked, almost not believing it. Now she knew why almost all the muscles of a wing were in the back—it felt like the air was trying to rip hers right off. But she held—with the adrenaline of terror, she held.

“Sort of!” Emerald zipped around her, like a child who’d been skiing her whole life. But there was no judgement in her expression, just her warm smile. “You’re gliding! Keep looking forward—you’ll probably fly towards what you’re looking at. That’s how the instinct works. Feel those… little adjustments your wings are making? I told you you could fly!”

Theo could still barely believe it. It felt as though at any second she might stop whatever she was doing correctly and drop from the sky like a sack of rocks. But the farmhouse kept getting closer, and she was barely losing altitude. “How?” she finally asked. “We’re so… heavy… compared to how big these wings are. I shouldn’t be flying. You shouldn’t be flying…” She whimpered, but the tears streaming down her face weren’t anger or disappointment. She was just happy to be alive.

Chapter 23: About Ourselves

After much work—it felt like months, but Theo knew full well it couldn’t be—the Horizon was finally ready to sail.

Theo learned this news from Sharp after a hard day of work in the cabin, leaving with empty cans of finishing stuff and the scrap-metal left over from her electronics work.

“Hey, Summer.” He caught her wing with a hoof, which couldn’t put more than a tiny bit of pressure on the feathers. Still enough to slow her down, which was the real point. Then he seemed to actually notice her—at least enough to finally look. He frowned, looking her over and sniffing. “Is that… varnish?”

She nodded weakly, tucking the trash-bag behind her as best she could. But she hadn’t mastered the pony skill of using either wings or tail to hold things, and was using one of her claws, which weren’t as good at hiding things. She could only get it so far behind her, not nearly far enough to be unseen.

“You’ve got something…” He reached up with a cloth, wiping it away from her nose. A splotch of wood stain based on the smear it made on his cloth. And probably her face too.

Great, now that won’t be coming out for a while. Her ears flattened, and she looked away. “Thanks.”

“What were you doing in there?” Sharp pushed her gently aside, glancing up the stairs. “That door looks… different.”

“I had to sand it down,” she began. “I used a darker stain than you did. There are some differences in taste between Equestria and my world, but it really just saved money since nopony wanted the…” She trailed off, dropping her trash bag as he hurried past her up the stairs. Theo took one glance around the engine room, and found it no longer seemed like a mess. There was only the one engine in the center of the room, its casing all closed up and a straight shaft crossing to both sides of the ship. Presumably leading to the propellers outside.

She hurried after him, taking the steps two at a time. She moved so fast that she didn’t even realize he’d stopped in the doorway, and so she smacked into him as she climbed inside, wedging herself in the entryway. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t—” But whatever else she might’ve said was silenced as he helped her to her feet, far more coordinated than she was. Sharp’s strong scent was mixed with engine grease and hot machines—inhaling it made her head get fuzzier than it already was.

“You’ve been working,” he said, gesturing around the cabin. “I didn’t know you could… do this.”

Theo lacked the skill to make everything in the cabin as perfect as when she’d found it. Her molding was slightly crooked, she couldn’t set the glass quite symmetrical—but she’d done her best. The signs of water-damage had been scrubbed away, replaced with as much of the furnishings of life as she could find or buy secondhand in Ponyville. Pots hung over the range, repaired chairs sat by one wall, and the floor was shiny finished wood. “Oh, don’t touch the walls yet. That one by the upper door is the last one I needed to stain. You can see it from the cloth…”

Sharp kissed her. The motion came so unexpectedly that she wasn’t sure what was happening. One minute she stared up at nothing, and the next—she was up against his face. That fuzzy feeling in her head hadn’t been the fumes at all. For a while, everything melted. She didn’t see anything, feel anything. Whatever voice might’ve urged her to flee or push him aside was silenced. Her old self, revolted, angry even—was so small she couldn’t even hear it.

But just because it felt like it went on forever, didn’t mean it did. After a few seconds she surfaced, but it was more like going under a pond than popping up from underneath. She smiled stupidly up at him, eyes a little glazed over. “W-what was… what was that, Sharp?”

He blushed, ears pressing flat to his head. “Something I… I’m sorry, Summer. I shouldn’t have. You’re not from here, I’m probably disgusting to you.”

She shook her head, yanking him by the hoof so he couldn’t leave. “I never said that.”

“I was going to say thanks, but…” Sharp was far stronger than she was, and she wouldn’t have been able to hold onto him with him trying to pull away. He advanced a few steps, inspecting the stove and twisting the burner. It came on with a click and a little circle.

“That’s, uh… that wasn’t as hard to fix as the rest of this. Just had to clean out the burner. It didn’t have enough time to rust yet.

“You shouldn’t have…” He sat down on his haunches, ears flat. “I didn’t think you were—”

“Pulling my weight?” she asked, following him. “You were taking me, Sharp, don’t think I forgot. All this is so I can go home. I don’t know how to fix engines, that’s true. I can barely build a USB-charger in your world. But I can sand a floor, I can paint furniture. Or I can now. Applejack had to walk me through most of this.”

“You did an excellent job,” he said, rising to his hooves again. “I was going to tell you that we were ready to go if you were okay with sleeping bags on the floor and eating dried oats. But looking around here, I can see that… won’t be necessary.”

“Nope. I hated roughing it last time. The Horizon was better. Shower works again too, by the way. There was only one cracked pipe to replace, probably from the crash. But I didn’t fix any of the aeronautics. Nothing that really matters.”

“We finished with all of that,” he answered absently. “Emerald and I. And now… well, I guess now we can stock her back up and get flying. For… Mt. Aris.”

“Not yet. We still have that offer from Feather, remember? And the CEO wants to meet with me. Manhattan.”

“Manehattan,” he repeated. But whatever his tone had been before, he no longer sounded overwhelmed. Now his voice was distant. “Alright. We should try and update our charts. We lost all the old ones in the crash. Going back to Canterlot probably wouldn’t be a good idea, after the… way we left last time.” He turned, wandering back down the steps.

Theo didn’t stop to wonder why Manehattan might be such a sore subject, or to try and stop him. None of that mattered—the ship was fixed! She was going home!

Or at least, the odds looked a little better. She still had the disturbing reaction of the hippogriff ambassador to worry about. She assumed he’d been paid off, or frightened into acting the way he had. Surely the hippogriffs themselves wouldn’t respond that way.

And if they do, there’s nothing I can do about it. Without their help, there’s no way to get back.

There might still be no way to get back. Kate had said the bridge was destroyed—that her entire quest was pointless, and she was stranded in Equestria forever. Would that be so bad?

Theo didn’t let herself keep thinking about it, not when it took her mind back to such strange and confusing things. She spent the next few days helping load the Horizon with food and supplies—Applejack’s family went above and beyond helming them there. They’d be eating apples for the next several weeks, but at least they’d be eating.

Eventually the day of their departure arrived. It wasn’t just Applejack and her family there to see them off—Rainbow Dash was there as well, along with her friends who had helped salvage the ship. They had a little party beside the barn, with refreshments provided by a pink pony whose name Theo had never learned.

One thing they didn’t do again over the next few days was talk about what Sharp had done. Theo thought about it every few hours, maybe more often. But she wasn’t brave enough to initiate anything else, and apparently neither was Sharp. Or maybe he was just giving her time to digest.

“Don’t be afraid to come back now,” Applejack said, as they pulled the loading ramp up into the engine bay and locked it into place. “Just try not to crash that thing. Ponyville don’t got anywhere to dock an airship, even a little one. Maybe… park it in Canterlot?”

Now the balloon loomed high overhead, expanding larger than the barn. The Horizon strained against its mooring ropes, but so far remained firmly anchored to the ground.

“We’ll visit if we can,” Sharp said. “It might not be for some time. We’re headed all the way down to Mt. Aris. Long trip.”

Emerald leaned over the railing from the top deck. “Ready on the helm, captain!”

“Hold it steady!” he ordered. “No throttle until we’re above every building in Ponyville.”

“Aye, captain!”

Applejack watched her with an amused expression. Behind them, the other ponies were already cleaning up the party, though plenty were waiting to watch their takeoff. “Say hello to Queen Novo for me, if you’re there! And Princess Skystar. Just tell her we sent you, that should really clear things up. We’re still a mite popular down there on account of shatterin’ the Storm King and all.”

“Will do!” Sharp said, far more enthusiastically than before. Theo made a note of that fact as well, even if part of her balked at the information. Applejack the farmer, do something more interesting than pick apples and sand floors?

But if there was one thing even harder to believe, it was that the farmpony might lie.

“Are you guys leaving or what?” Rainbow asked, hefting the oversized crowbar beside the mooring stake. “Aren’t you running out of gas or whatever?”

Sharp didn’t call back to her to explain any of it. Instead he nodded. “We need to pull out both of them at the same time, or we’ll tilt! Can you do that?”

“On it!” Rainbow yanked up the first stake without waiting for anypony else to be ready at the second. Sure enough, they started to tilt slowly upward, as only the stern rope was still holding them. Theo leaned forward, hastily pulling the door to engineering closed and latching it. At least this way they couldn’t dump out—unless they fell out through the massive opening under the engine.

Through that gap, she saw a streak dart across the lawn, then resolve into Rainbow Dash. She crossed the length of the Horizon in less than a second, and then she was pulling at the next stake. With one final lurch, the stern of the ship began to lift as well. They rocked in the air a few times, rising so fast that Theo smacked into Sharp again. Thankfully against the wall, instead of the engine railing. She didn’t much want to practice her gliding today.

“I notice this is a pattern from you,” Sharp said, not pushing her away. He reached up, brushing her mane out of her face with a delicate hoof. But he’d always had excellent control, despite how bulky and strong most earth ponies seem to be. “Were you this clumsy on your world?”

“No,” she answered, shoving away from him and rising to her claws indignantly. She puffed out her wings and stalked past him towards the stairs. “I’ll remember this if you come back to my world with me. I’d like to see you do better with two legs.”

“Dragons do it,” he answered, catching up in a matter of seconds. He was only a few steps behind her as they left the top doors and onto the main deck.

Here the Horizon had never been underwater, and so much of the original finishings were intact. Only the control-box had changed, with a new set of switches and levers. They said something about gear-ratios, and conveyed fuel information about their single engine.

“I think we’re overkill on lift,” Sharp said, stopping beside Emerald and glancing down at the controls. “I should’ve thought of that. The other engine had to weigh as much as five ponies.”

Theo heard the hiss of gas overhead as Sharp released some of their hydrogen, but she didn’t stay to watch him operate the Horizon. Instead she made her way to the railing, looking over at the crystal palace that was also a tree.

She hadn’t gone back since building her charger, and that was probably for the best. The purple pony had been too attentive. The more she knew about Theo, the more she would figure out.

The whole castle looked almost transparent from up here as it caught the light, a monument larger than most of the town it lorded over.

I’m going to miss this place, she realized, staring out over the village. It was such a primitive place, without even a single paved road to be seen. Yet in many ways, it reminded her of any number of old villages back home. It was the sort of place that looked like it had constant occupation since the middle ages, or maybe earlier.

More importantly, it had proved to her that even the little places could be kinder than Sleighsburg. Far from throwing her in the sea, these ponies had rallied to fix the airship, and helped her surprise Sharp a little on the side.

“Moment of truth time!” Sharp yelled from not far away, yanking a lever dramatically. There was a roar and a cough from down below, and a steady stream of smoke emerged from behind them.

Then they started to move. Not as fast as Theo remembered, but they did have one less engine. They drifted ahead, away from the distant mountain of Canterlot and over Ponyville.

They were still rising, but Theo was sure she could see ponies down below, pointing eagerly at their airship. She knew some of those faces.

This isn’t my world, she thought. I’m getting in too deep. It wasn’t just coming to love some of the places she visited—but the people. She couldn’t keep a relationship with Sharp, even if he did come back with her. Or she didn’t think she could.

Everything she’d thought she knew about her sexuality was a confusing mess right now, right along with her sex. Right when she thought she’d been getting used to it, he had to go and kiss her.

I’m going home. None of these people are going to stay in my life. Emerald isn’t coming back with me, and Sharp shouldn’t either. The real world would eat him alive.

At that moment, Emerald wormed her way up beside her, resting both forelegs on the railing. “Thinking of going flying out there?”

“No,” she said flatly. “We just got the Horizon back. I’m going to enjoy the accommodations.”

“Aww.” Emerald pawed at the ground. “You know you won’t get better without practicing.”

“I know,” she admitted. “But I’m not really trying to get better right now. Let’s focus on making it to Mt. Aris. Maybe after that...” There’s no point. You’re leaving, Theo. Stop thinking about this.

But she couldn’t. Even if she’d only glided now, the strange powers had worked for her. There was a whole world of new abilities open, abilities she could take. She’d seen dozens of ponies flying now, she could do it too.

“Maybe we can work on taking off,” she said. “From the ground. Not up here.”

Emerald beamed up at her in response. Theo looked behind her to the helm, expecting to find Sharp there—but there was no pony standing there.

She tensed, spinning around in a tight circle. “Wait, where’s Sharp?”

“Horsefeathers,” Emerald muttered. “I was… kinda supposed to distract you while he did something secret? Do you think you could maybe… pretend you didn’t notice? I think it would mean a lot to him.”

Summer turned reluctantly back to the railing. Ponyville had just about passed completely beneath them, leaving only the sprawling farms that surrounded the town. Beyond that, open forest. But they were still rising, and the details were harder to make out the further up they got. “I can pretend,” she whispered. “Why, though? Why would he want to do anything secret?”

“Because you did,” Emerald whispered back. “You fixed the Horizon without him noticing. He thinks you like surprises.”

“Some kinds,” she began, before she even realized what she was saying. But she stopped herself after that, before she could let anything slip about what had happened between them. Emerald hadn’t figured it out yet—or if she had, she was a better actor than any human child Theo had ever known.

“Speaking of surprises, there’s something I forgot to mention.” She reached into her saddlebags, removing the polaroid camera. “I charged the battery. We still have limited film, but… you can take plenty more pictures.”

“Good.” Emerald took the camera carefully, wrapping the strap around her neck and lifting it with one hoof like a delicate artifact. “I wasn’t happy about the Ponyville-sized hole in my scrapbook.”

“You’re keeping a—”

But she didn’t finish, because Sharp emerged from below at that moment, gesturing for her. “Hey, Summer! Could you come down here for a minute? Emerald, on the helm! Make sure we keep a northeast heading!”

“Right, captain!” she shouted back. “Northeast!”

No fair. You know how much she likes being useful.

Summer made her way over, pushing her mane back with a wing self-consciously. But Sharp had already gone down the stairs. The lights were out and only the glow from outside lit the space, but that was more than enough for her. Sharp’s night vision wasn’t nearly as good as hers.

He hadn’t done much—just a tablecloth, and some candles, and the makings of something hot. Her mouth watered at the smell, as she instantly recognized something she hadn’t tasted in almost as long as she could remember—that was meat.

Not a juicy steak, which she really craved. But fish—she could live with fish.

“I don’t like owing a pony for something…” he said, pulling out one of the chairs. For her. “I can’t believe I was so caught up repairing the engine, I didn’t notice what you were up to.”

Summer’s blush deepened, but she sat down anyway. You just got your airship back, the only thing of value you think you own, but the first thing you do with it is serve me this. Her brain was having difficulty processing it. But the longer she spent around this pony, the more often this was happening.

“Your ship only broke because of me,” she argued. It was either that, or drool out of her stupid beak. “Helping fix something you could’ve done better doesn’t mean you owe me.”

Sharp shrugged one shoulder, then opened the container that was producing the fantastic smell of cooked fish. Theo could see—if just for a moment—the look of disgust on his face as he lifted the carefully prepared plate from inside, removing the thin metal foil from on top of it. His own plate was something closer to what she’d seen ponies eating, a hay dish with little bits of fruit mixed in for texture.

“Your apprentice is okay with…” She glanced down at the plate, and found it harder to resist the longer she looked. Strangely, the plate was square, with portion dividers she might’ve expected from a municipal cafeteria. But even if she was only looking at a thin slab of—salmon, she guessed—in brown sauce, she could live with that. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said simply. “I can see you don’t like smelling it.”

Sharp shrugged again. “Then you better eat it, huh? Princess Twilight’s school has been serving it all this time, but I didn’t realize until it was time to go.”

Theo didn’t wait another second longer. She ignored the salad on one side of the plate, the sort of thing she had come to expect from horse cooking, and devoured the meat with characteristic vigor. She almost wasn’t even aware of the passage of time, until her plate was licked completely dry. I had no idea how badly I was craving that.

“That was… the most amazing thing I’ve ever eaten,” she said, sitting up in her chair. She looked down, realizing she’d spilled a little brown sauce, and licked that up too.

Sharp didn’t interrupt her, didn’t say anything that she heard until she’d finally settled down. He grinned, sipping casually at his glass. “If I’d known you needed it that badly, we could’ve gotten you meat sooner.”

That was about the time she started feeling self-conscious. She hadn’t exactly acted with the dignity she usually at least pretended to have.

“I… didn’t realize how much I missed it,” she said, settling back in her chair. “I didn’t even like fish much back home. But I have a feeling…” Applejack’s farm had kept cows for milk, cows that Applejack talked to. Having a conversation about the modern beef industry probably wasn’t a good idea. “Thanks,” she finished awkwardly, taking the glass in one claw and drinking slowly. It wasn’t wine like she’d thought, but something made with apples. Of course it would be apples.

It didn’t smell or taste like cider, though. So what was it? She resisted asking the question, just ignoring the little luxury. Some part of her had wondered if Equestria even had alcohol.

“Thanks,” she said, settling the empty glass down on the table in front of her. She probably shouldn’t ask for more, considering how little she actually understood about this body.

“It wasn’t much,” he said. “It’s a shame the town is so backwards in other ways, the ponies there are friendlier than several villages I’ve visited. That’s so often the trade—do you want ponies to know who you are, or do you want to like them?”

Summer glanced over her shoulder, towards the door leading upstairs. “What about Emerald? She… she’s okay with you doing this for me? Shouldn’t we share with her too?”

Sharp looked away. “She, uh… might be under the impression that this is a… date.”

Candles, privacy, alcohol… it wasn’t like having it actually named a date made it any less of one than it already was. But it sure felt different. What did I expect? He kissed me. I could’ve stopped this then.

She could stop it now. She didn’t.

“We should do something for her,” she said instead. “Emerald… she’s been working so hard. She lost as much as you, maybe more.”

Sharp seemed to relax. Maybe not getting shot down was enough of a confirmation for him. “It’s her birthday in a few days.” He glanced to one side, eyes losing focus for a second. “One, two… three days, on the 14th. I expect it will be… pretty rough, with her family gone.”

Should I be guilty that I’m pushing his date off into something for Emerald? Maybe she should be, but she wasn’t. “Will we be in Manehattan by then? There’s got to be something we can do for her.”

“She always wanted to go to a museum,” Sharp supplied. He didn’t seem upset with the change of subject. “There’s this shack that displays old fishing stuff in Sleighsburg, they open up whenever sailors from Griffonstone are ashore. But she’s always wanted to see something bigger.”

“That sounds perfect,” Theo said. Not to mention safe. Nothing bad ever happens in a museum. “We can do that, and… use Feather gear to pay for it.” She stood up, moving to the wall and removing her saddlebags there, holding up the folded letter. “I’ve still got that coupon. I know you don’t like Feather, but… we can take their bits, can’t we? We’ll need more supplies than what we have to reach Mt. Aris.”

“I guess… I guess so,” he said. “I know you’re excited to see another creature from home, but… I don’t think it will do anything good. You’re not like her, Summer. You’re different. Better.”

She wanted to ask why, but then he was beside her, and he kissed her again. She didn’t resist that either.

Chapter 24: And Each Other

Agent Barton snapped the door to the unmarked truck closed with a characteristic click. For a few seconds he just stood there beside the truck, staring up at the sky and its spectacular aurora. Then the wind picked up again, biting through several layers of government-issued black coats, and he remembered why he hated traveling this far north.

“You know we’re not going to get anything out of them,” Agent Foster called from the other side of the truck, pulling her scarf tighter about her face. It wasn’t snowing—it actually didn’t snow that often this far north. But the wind lifted the upper layer from the snowdrifts, using each flake like another little dagger. “He doesn’t know anything. Nobody ever does.”

He pushed his glasses a little further up his nose, nodding reluctantly to his partner. “Still got to ask.” That was all they said on the way up the path. Not that they might be overheard by anyone local, Barton had already verified that there were only five members of Observatory staff still on location, and his skin told him the likelihood of encountering any of them out here.

Rather, he knew full well that the records of everything he said would be stored, examined, referenced. They would follow procedure today, just like they did every day.

Barton held the door for his companion, though it was more of an airlock and it beeped and hissed in protest every moment at being left open. Old tools and several pairs of snow boots had been left in here, waiting for their next time outside. Agent Barton left his boots on, irrespective of the mess they’d make. Foster did the same.

A few seconds later, the airlock clicked open. They didn’t make it five steps before Barton identified the person they’d come to meet with. Corey Jamison wasn’t much in terms of witnesses—a young male with an unevenly-shaved face and circles under his eyes. He pushed his chair back a little, sitting up behind his desk. “You guys actually made it.”

“We certainly did.” Agent Foster took the lead without a word from him—the tactic they always used with young men. Sharp suits and athletic women got better responses than grizzled old men. “Your directions were very helpful, Mr. Jamison.”

“Corey.” He sat back, relaxing a little. While Foster stopped just beside the desk, Agent Barton glanced around the lobby—it was one of the largest rooms in the base, at least from the metal shells he’d seen from the satellites. It had a balcony with a second floor, something that made him instantly uncomfortable. The lights were off up there, which made it worse.

Agent Barton pulled a smartphone from his pocket, swiping across its contents absently with one gloved hand. Well, with two fingers on his hand, anyway. The screen only responded to those two.

But he wasn’t texting, or swiping through some social media feed. Within twenty seconds he’d opened his interface with the Observatory, and not much later he started glancing through security cameras.

He checked each one in the lobby, then shut each one off with an unpatched exploit. One more from the list of government zero-days.

His real goal wasn’t checking the top floor—that only took a few seconds. Really he wanted to find the other four members of the base. It wasn’t hard—just looking for the sections with light showed him two were asleep, one was working on a snowmobile with a broken tread. Then the last one… there, in the cafeteria! He selected those cameras, keeping those feeds up on his phone while dismissing the others.

“This is my partner, Agent Barton. We’re here about the missing person case from last month.”

Agent Barton acted reflexively, blanking the screen while flipping the wallet open the other way to show his badge. As usual, the witness barely even looked at it. Just the appearance of being official was enough.

“Oh, good,” Corey said. “You’re here about reopening the search, right? Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough. His family deserves closure.”

“We received a very interesting testimony through your local sheriff,” Agent Barton said, tucking the phone away and making sudden, direct eye-contact with the witness. “That’s the primary reason why we’re here. To clarify some of that, and… to find your employee, if we can.”

“Is there somewhere private we could have the conversation?” Agent Foster asked. “I’m sure you trust your other coworkers—but we don’t want you to feel any pressure about what you might be saying. It will be just us.”

I can see what you’re doing, Foster. She hadn’t said “the three of us” which would’ve included the slab of muscle and gristle that was Agent Barton. Just “us.”

He rose from his chair, nodding eagerly. “Server room. That’s where Theo spent most of his time, and it’s where… yes, you’ll want to see that too.”

They walked. Barrow Observatory wasn’t a large facility, all things considered. It was never wise to build big when every crack in the wall was another opening for snow and cold to worm its way in and destroy. They sure knew how to heat the place—Barton was sweating by the time they made it to the server room, and they were struck with another wave of cold.

Not the outside—it wasn’t below freezing. But it did feel rather like going from an unheated swimming pool to a spa and back again. “Should it be so cold in here?” he asked, zipping his jacket closed again. It didn’t matter that the zipper was done up completely—he could get to his sidearm through the quick-release holster underneath, if he needed to.

“Better for the machines,” Corey said. “Don’t ask me why. Theo could’ve told you, but… you already know that. We’re still down our IT, so we wouldn’t want to chance anything that might break what’s still working.”

The server room made him almost as nervous as the lobby, with two rows of racks and equipment along the outside that cast plenty of unusual shadows. He let Foster start with the basics while he cased the room, checking each of its three doors and quietly locking all but the one they’d used to come in. There was no one lurking inside—despite his training, he didn’t really expect much of a fight inside an NSF-funded observatory.

By the time he made it back, Agent Foster had worked the witness through the uninteresting part of the testimony and into his recollection of the next day.

“These are the recordings,” Corey said, fumbling with the computer for a few more seconds. Without needing to be told, Foster already had her phone out on the table, and was recording everything. Barton watched the screen, using his own device to navigate to the same directory named there and start copying everything from a few levels up—but with low priority, so it shouldn’t be visible. Certainly not to someone who didn’t know why servers were kept cold.

The crackling buzz of a radio recording filled the server room, along with a distorted female voice. She sounded distressed, but also like she was trying to speak past something in her mouth, or maybe in front of it. The trouble was, Barton couldn’t make out almost anything the woman was saying. It was far too animal in its patterns, like she had decided to squawk instead of speaking.

What Barton heard—and he could see from the expression of his partner that she’d noticed it too—was the consistency of the speaker. There were distinct tones present, clear thought to the pronunciation. It was a real language, or at least a real conlang.

Their witness let the recording play without interruption, it wasn’t that much longer. Corey’s own voice came next, far clearer. “What? Whoever is spamming this channel with fucking birdsong, that’s a federal crime. We’re doing search and rescue, cut your shit.”

A brief pause, then, “It’s me, Corey! Corey, can you hear me?”

The tone matched the first speaker identically, except now they were speaking perfect English. English with a slight German accent, maybe? That matches our missing person. But it isn’t a woman. If they had been coached for that voice, it was damn near perfect. Only the slight obstruction sound to key a listener in to how fake it was.

“Woah.” Corey again. “Who the hell is that? You sound awful.”

“Theo,” she answered. “Listen, it’s a long story, but I can tell it when I get there! Just get me some spare clothes and maybe a frostbite kit at the observation tower.”

Agent Foster reached out, pausing the recording with one hand. “To confirm, Theo Pichler is the name of your missing person, isn’t that right?”

He nodded. “That’s our computer guy. Him.” He pointed to a bulletin board behind the desk, and the photograph there. It depicted an average-looking kid on skis, young enough to be Barton’s own son. Maybe a little dorky, but who else would want to winter in a place like this?

“Theo wasn’t funny, was he?” Barton asked.

Foster cleared her throat. “My partner means to ask if he was trans. Nothing in the profile we have suggests that, but…”

“No,” Corey answered instantly, with perfect eye contact and only a slight tap of one finger on the desk. He thought the question was stupid. “Of course not. Look right there. Go through his room if you want, but he wasn’t hiding anything like that. He was… average. Typical guy for one of the wintering shifts.”

“And how do you reconcile that with the recording?” Agent Barton asked. “Agent Foster, if you would.”

She knew exactly what to do, rewinding the recording to play the last few seconds again.

“Theo. Listen, it’s a long story, but I can tell it when I get there! Just get me some spare clothes and maybe a frostbite kit at the observation tower.” She paused it again.

“Does that sound like Theo?”

“I…” Now Corey hesitated, glancing back at the computer, shifting in his seat. “Yes. A little. Way higher, but… it has the same accent. And Theo was always pretty easy to get pissed off about one specific thing. I thought it might be… some kind of vocal distortion. I don’t know what shit his university put up on the observation tower, but I know it puts out radio bleed. That’s where he went missing from, like I said. Installing more tech up there.”

“Let’s finish the recording,” Barton said. “Before we go on.”

Corey pressed play, and his own voice filled the room again.

“Sure thing! God, you sound like shit. What happened?”

“Nothing you’d believe. It’s… incredible. The Observatory did something to the aurora. Opened up a… portal, I think. I know how insane that sounds, but I’ve got proof. I’m on the other side, and I think we figured out how to open it. I’m coming across.”

Their witness looked annoyed at those words, maybe even a little embarrassed. But Agent Barton and Foster went instantly alert as they heard it. Barton looked down at his cameras again, confirming that every member of the base’s winter crew was where he’d seen them last. They were.

“Sounds like you’re on the edge of insanity from cold. But I don’t care. We’ll get you sorted, Theo. Just hold on!”

The recording fuzzed with static for a minute, then went on for several minutes of Corey calling out for Theo. He yelled instructions for how to bundle up to survive the cold, reminding him to take his fluids and lots of other good advice for someone who’d gotten drunk and wandered out into the wilderness somewhere.

But the speaker hadn’t sounded drunk, no matter how crazy the witness thought her story had been.

“I know how crazy it seems,” Corey said into the awkward silence that followed. “I’m not trying to say you need to take that part of the story seriously. I’m just… Theo was my friend. He stayed through winter, not many people do that. They didn’t even find the body to send back to his family. Don’t we owe them that much?”

“You don’t think he might be alive?” Agent Foster asked, resting one sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He didn’t seem like he was faking his distress, certainly not from what Agent Barton could hear.

“Not unless he faked the whole thing, passed through Utqiagvik and fucked off home. But he wasn’t like that. Theo wasn’t a dick—he was a hard worker, and he kept his promises. If he couldn’t hack the winter shift, he would’ve just said so. He’s not collecting the bonus if the world thinks he’s dead.”

“We will look through his things—the Austrians want the whole story about what happened.” And we need to eliminate the chance that someone here murdered him.

But Agent Barton didn’t think much of that—the sheriff had. Though none of the scientists had been told, that was most of what the search was about. It was too cold to dig a deep grave, or for someone to flee very far without taking one of the base’s vehicles.

No missing gas, suggesting they’d been taken out for some illicit trip at some point. No bodies they’d been able to find, or unidentified people matching Theo’s description slipping through security at the miniscule airport.

“If there’s anything else you can tell us,” Barton said. “Anything you didn’t share with the police.”

“We won’t think you’re crazy,” Agent Foster promised. “It’s our job to investigate stories that seem impossible. That’s why you have us, and not just a detective from Alaska PD. Any insight you may have might be useful to this case.”

Corey shuffled uneasily in his seat, glancing up at Foster’s chest. The witness had been here through half of winter, and Barton could tell he didn’t have any female friends in town from that one look alone.

Finally he rose, walking over to the clipboard and reaching behind it. He removed a tiny square of paper, frayed on one edge.

“Theo had this stupid little Polaroid camera. He used it to take photos around base.” He pointed at the clipboard, and sure enough several of the photos there matched the size of the one he held.

“I found this one on the ground near the tower, half-buried in the snow. I can’t explain it. But I’m sure this was taken with his camera. I swear it isn’t fucking photoshopped or…” He handed it over.

Agent Foster’s eyes went wide, and she nearly locked up completely. Agent Barton actually had to walk over to her and take the photo from her hand, very gently.

It was hard to judge a fake at such a tiny resolution, though he had no doubt that the techs would be doing exactly that.

The photo wasn’t some blurry side-angle of a cryptid retreating, as so much of the garbage he looked at. Instead it was taken without backlight, with still subjects and a clear flash reflecting off several bits of metal in the background with their own shadows. Each one was another test of the images authenticity.

Barton hardly thought it would be necessary. The image depicted three… creatures. Quadrupedal. Two were strange to him, but one had the characteristic beak and wings he’d seen on some carvings. More importantly, that creature was also wearing an oversized pair of thermal underwear that barely fit on its back-legs.

They were nothing like people, yet they posed for the picture as though they were. Their colors were impossible, their shapes were uncanny—but Barton needed only one look into those eyes to know that these were no mere animals. He’d seen plenty of horses, and seen animals looking back at him.

Even the tiny photograph showed its own little social cues—the slight distance the bird-one had from the horse ones marked her as a stranger. The protective way the bigger male one had a hoof over the shoulder of the smaller, probably female one. Father, maybe?

“If you ask me to explain it, I can’t,” Corey said. “But I did go through Theo’s stuff. Not his computer—maybe you can get into that, I can’t. There’s no furry shit in his room. He’s not a weeb either.”

Agent Barton took the photo carefully on the table, spreading it out and snapping a picture with his phone. He returned it to his partner, while directing the message off to his superior.

“Thank you for sharing this with us,” Agent Foster said. “And we’re sorry for what happened to your friend. If there’s any chance of finding him, your cooperation has just improved it.”

“Finding a corpse,” Corey said darkly. “It’s been a month. There’s no food missing, so he isn’t hiding in an igloo or something. He’s dead.”

Agent Barton certainly wasn’t going to try and persuade him otherwise, even though all the evidence was working to do so. For once they’d encountered a witness who had actually seen something, and yet he seemed eager to convince himself that he hadn’t. So much the better.

His phone vibrated, and Agent Barton lifted it again. There was a single line of text there, one that would only stay for a few seconds. His commanding officer’s response.

“Sending a unit. Make something up.”

“We’re leaving the staff?”

“Don’t know who saw,” came the response. “I’ll give intelligence a head start.”

There was no need to respond, no useless formality over secure communication.

He nodded once to Agent Foster, and that was all the communication she needed. “Good news, Mr. Jamison. The department has approved a search. If you could warm up quarters for fifty people, that would be great. We’re going to do this right.”

“Because of that?” Corey raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think—”

“Because we want to find your friend,” Agent Barton said, tucking the photo away into his wallet. “Not because of any specific piece of evidence. Now if you would be so kind as to lead us to his old quarters, I understand they haven’t been disturbed since the search…”

They didn’t land in some shady corner in the back of town, like they’d done in the Crystal Empire. As they closed on Manehattan, Sharp steered them towards a large dock on the far side, where dozens of other ships were parked and moored to each other well above the ground. There was no such thing as a crappy airship, though some of the ones visible from all the way up here were smaller than theirs.

But they were all nicer than theirs, with perfectly finished decks and the handiwork of large companies all over them. Many seemed to be a similar design, more a sailing ship given a gasbag for lift than something purpose-built for the air. They wouldn’t be able to get enough lift if they weren’t designed for it, right? I’m just imagining things.

“Hey Summer!” Edge called, waving her over from the helm. She crossed the distance, blushing just a little at Emerald’s knowing look. Her blush got deeper with the camera’s fake shutter sound. So she’d taken a picture of Theo feeling silly and embarrassed.

Were they official? Was she really in a relationship with a… pony? Summer didn’t want to think about it much. Maybe if she pushed the problem to the side for long enough, it would just go away, and she wouldn’t have to think about things like her intention to return home, and the physical changes that would occur when she got her body back.

She felt a sigh of relief as she stopped beside him, and Edge didn’t do anything to embarrass her. Not with Emerald watching, anyway. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, the filly made her feel far more self-conscious about her relationship than actually being in the relationship did.

“Before we land, I need to make sure you’re serious about capitalizing on Feather’s offer,” Sharp said. “We’ve had some evidence that… either they or someone who buys from them doesn’t have our best interests at heart. Going near them might be subjecting us to more pressure like that.”

“I realize that,” she said. “I still think we should take the bits we can get. A big city like this should have a really great resale market. All those bits can… pay for the rest of our trip, if Kate doesn’t do it instead. Hell, she might want to be part of it. Another try at returning home—she sounded like she’d want to go too, if she could.” But as Theo said it, there was nothing like confidence in her voice. That was what she wanted the letter to mean, but whether or not it actually did…

Sharp turned instantly back to his sailing, gripping the wheel a little harder with both legs and making the wood creak a little. Steering the ship for a pony meant holding himself above the ground with the wheel, and that meant Theo had to stand and look specifically at him from the side not to see the consequences of constant pony nudity. “I only ask…” he finally said. “Because if we’re taking the risk anyway, we might as well use some of those bits to stay at High Dock. You see it down there—those are private guards. This place is insured, and they’d be liable to replace the Horizon if something happened to her. Of course, if I can’t pay, they’d impound her. We’d need to have the bits by the time we left.”

“We’ll have them,” she declared, confidently. “Look, I’m not sure why you’re so… intense about Kate. But we can get our bits first. We’ll use her coupon, get our stuff, maybe even put the bits on board and pay off the harbor fee in advance. Would that make you feel better?”

“A little,” he answered. She waited beside him, hoping that her presence would prompt him to say more. But he remained stubbornly fixed on his instruments as the Horizon touched down, settling against the dock with a thump.

As before, she remained with Emerald when it came to the practical side of harbor arrangements. Refueling and deposits and all that were beyond anything she could help with anyway, so it was really just about keeping Emerald entertained.

These days, Emerald seemed interested in asking her about only one subject when they were alone. “So when are you gonna ask him out?”

She shoved her away with a wing, looking stubbornly up at the city around them. Far more than any they’d yet visited, Manehattan felt like stepping back in time to an America she’d seen distant pictures of in an occasional textbook. There was that famous photo from the end of WW2, with two people kissing… and she was thinking about it again.

She blushed, looking up towards the architecture. Impressive for what she’d known of Equestria so far in a way that had even more disturbing implications for what she understood about the nature of portal-linked Equestria and Earth. Canterlot had been more directly impressive because of how many rules of engineering it seemed to defy. It was advanced in its own way, building on slopes that should’ve sloughed their structures right off. This was something else—these buildings made perfect sense, except they shouldn’t be here.

“Well?” Emerald nudged up beside one of her legs, looking up hopefully. “You already know he likes you. He had a date for you and everything! That’s way braver than most stallions would be. Sharp’s an adventurer and everything… but sooner or later, you gotta tell him you like him too.”

“I have,” she finally said, though she felt like she was being waterboarded between each word. “Should you really be interfering in your master’s relationships? He’s… years older than you are.”

She shrugged one wing. “He asked for my help the one time, that means I get to. It’s only fair.”

Summer tried to think of a good argument to that—but she couldn’t. In the end, she just spun and looked away. “Oh, look! I think that’s Sharp calling us to go. You must be excited to visit Manhattan.”

“Manehattan,” she corrected. Then she spun, forgetting whatever awkward thing she might’ve been about to ask next. Summer followed, down the lower ramp and into the pony city.

Chapter 25: On Her Birthday

Manehattan swallowed them like a living thing, with streets so overflowing with ponies that Theo felt instantly lost in the crowd. This was certainly a good thing—even if Sharp Edge was right about the dangers of working with Feather. In a city this big, there was no danger of being recognized and attacked once they slipped into the crowd.

Of course nothing will happen to us, because she obviously wanted to be in contact. The ponies who delivered this could’ve attacked me, but all they did was give me a letter. Just because a pipe had their symbol on it doesn’t mean they were the ones who put it there.

Of course there was the one factor in that attack that she’d almost forgot—Sharp Edge hadn’t thought that it was possible for magic to target steel like that. The melted engine hadn’t seemed possible to him. If there’d been any evidence of thermite or some other human explosive in the engines, it had been lost when they crashed.

But Theo didn’t need to worry about any of that quite yet—they wouldn’t be seeing Kate today. Today, they just had to worry about earning some bits, and one little girl’s birthday.

Their first stop wasn’t the museum, though. So far as she could tell, Sharp hadn’t said anything to Emerald that suggested he remembered what day it was. Theo didn’t either, though it would get harder and harder to keep up the ruse the longer they kept it waiting. If Emerald gave up on them remembering, then the surprise would no longer seem genuine.

“We don’t have to go to their headquarters,” Sharp said, gesturing into a shop door on the lowest floor of a nearby building. There wide glass windows gave them a constant view of the products inside, displayed on flat wooden tables as they had been in every Earth Apple Store she’d ever seen. The ponies inside didn’t have polo shirts, but they did have collars and tags in a similar style. “They’ve got all the same selection. I think their most valuable devices are the radios. If we focus on those, we should be able to make a few thousand bits.”

From a radio? But Theo didn’t second guess, she just checked her letter for the coupon—still there—and strode meaningfully through the doors.

It seemed like the store had stolen Apple’s corporate manual as well, because she was soon swarmed by several helpful clerks asking what she wanted. “The portable radios,” she said, pointing to the part of the store with the largest price tags. They’d written the actual prices on them in tiny numbers, as though that would somehow trick her. She wasn’t fooled.

Sharp Edge was right about how outrageous this place was. “I was wondering if you could let me speak to your manager,” she asked, after demoing the unit for a few seconds. “Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong. I just have, uh… a letter from corporate.”

Sharp Edge didn’t stand with her—he waited by the doors, watching the street and the ponies as they passed outside it. While Theo showed off her note and started piling up hardware, her companion waited in vain for an attack that didn’t come.

Twenty minutes later, and they were back out on the street, carrying heavy brown bags over their shoulders. Well, Sharp carried them, Theo just made sure the pile was well-balanced.

“Doesn’t mean we aren’t being watched,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to get an offer like that otherwise. If it wasn’t to stop you at the store, maybe they wanted to follow us when we left.”

“Or maybe Feather was being honest, and they just want to help. Maybe they couldn’t just send the bits for some reason, but this way wouldn’t be noticed. What’s half a dozen radios, anyway?”

“A lot,” Emerald said. She hadn’t looked at the radios much, but she did read over the receipt. The entire transaction had been processed as though they really bought something, and so they had a little strip of paper not that different from the one they might’ve got on Earth. “This is a bigger number than I’ve ever seen. I don’t think my mom made this many bits in a year, and that was trading with the whole village.”

“A little quieter,” Sharp whispered, glancing over their shoulder once. So far there was no sign of anypony following them, not even some enterprising thieves who saw a group with too much wealth in one place. They had specifically asked for plain bags, instead of the fancy plastic ones that most customers were receiving. They weren’t using theirs as a status symbol. “Our best bet is pawning these at different shops. If we try to take too much at once, they’ll think we stole it. It doesn’t make sense to spend a ton of bits and only get half of them back by pawning, so…”

“One each,” Theo said. “I can do that. I’ve haggled before.” She glanced briefly down at Emerald, who had started moping during the last few minutes, kicking her hooves against the pavement with distracted annoyance. “We have to finish quickly, so we have enough time for today’s main attraction.”

“What’s that?” Emerald asked, perking up just a little.

Summer shrugged. “No spoilers.”

“What’s a spoiler?”

She didn’t explain.

It took about two hours, hours that were about as unpleasant as she expected them to be. Even though the products were completely unopened, every pawn shop and electronics resale shop she took them to told her that “if she really wanted full price, she should just return it.” She ended up taking away less than half the purchase price on each radio. But with each shop they visited, Sharp’s saddlebags got heavier while the brown bag got lighter.

Then, after great length, she emerged from inside a shop to find Sharp and Emerald waiting without the oversized bag filled with radio supplies. “Last one?” she asked, tossing Sharp the heavy pouch of metal coins. Even this one was more than she’d ever seen Sharp carry during their trip. With just one letter, Kate had completely changed their fortunes. Now we have the money to go down to Mt. Aris. I’ll be able to go home. That realization should’ve thrilled her, but somehow… she felt only confused.

“Keep this one,” Sharp said, tossing it back. “You and Emerald should go ahead. I’ll meet you after I’ve taken care of the dock stuff. Want to make sure we’re ready to leave if we were wrong about Feather.”

“We weren’t wrong—” But he slipped off into the crowd, vanishing before she could meaningfully argue. She didn’t want to scream across the city like a crazy person.

Emerald watched him go, then grinned. “So what are we doing, Summer? More flying?” She circled around Theo impatiently, as Theo tucked away the money in her own saddlebags. She felt self-conscious enough about being a different species around all these ponies, she certainly didn’t need to make things worse by showing off a ton of money while she was at it.

They had already walked past the museum more than once, enough for her to silently confirm with Sharp that it was the one her apprentice wanted to see. The “Equestrian Natural History Museum”, with great big brass Sphynxes outside like watchful sentinels. “Let’s grab lunch first, give Sharp a chance to catch up with us.”

“If you’re okay having it without him,” she said.

“Yes.”

They crossed a few blocks of city over to a food-cart that had caught Theo’s nose. Among all the other fried foods they were selling, she smelled a hint of fish. It was on the boardwalk, and she wasn’t the only non-pony here. Manehattan was so packed with creatures that they just didn’t have the time to stare at her for too long, even if they wanted to. “How about this?”

Emerald didn’t argue, so she bought her one of everything and settled down with her on a table overlooking the harbor. “What are you two planning?” she asked, apparently unfazed by Theo’s plate of fish sticks. But out here the breeze off the sea kept any foul smells from building up.

“Nothing,” Summer lied. “Nothing you shouldn’t have figured out by now.”

Emerald wrinkled her nose, glowering at her. “Because we spent the day… selling radios?”

“We started the day selling radios,” she argued. “And now we don’t have to worry about bits for a while. We can do things that we didn’t get to before. Things to celebrate important days.”

Emerald’s expression transformed. Her face lit up, her ears stopped sagging. “He remembered.”

Theo nodded. “Sure did. I wish we didn’t have to run errands first, but Sharp wants the rest of the day to be about you.” She pointed up the street. “Natural History Museum up there, looked like something you’d like to do.”

“I would!” She bounced up and down in her chair, seeming to forget about her food completely. “I can’t believe Sharp would know that. Or did you tell him?”

Summer raised a defensive wing. “I don’t know how I would know more about you than the one who lived in your village for years.”

Emerald didn’t relax after that. She sat in her seat like a bottle of something ready to explode, glancing constantly back at the museum. “Are you… sure we have time for this, Summer? Don’t you have to get to Mt. Aris to get home? You’ve already been waiting so long.”

“Exactly,” she said. “We were in Ponyville for weeks, Emerald. A day to look around the city isn’t going to make me much later than I already am. Besides, we need to find Mt. Aris. I’m guessing that the charts will still be missing, like they were in the Crystal Empire. But Sharp has a pretty good idea of what the mountain should be like. We find a natural map in the museum, and we can make an educated guess about where Mt. Aris really is.”

“Okay good,” Emerald said. “Because I wanted to go anyway.”

Summer reached out, mussing the filly’s mane with one talon.

They didn’t actually go inside the museum, not until Sharp Edge finally returned from the dock. His saddlebags no longer sagged and clanked with every step, but instead he looked light and relieved. Or was that resolve?

“Did Summer tell you why we’re here?” he asked, grinning at the filly.

She hopped off the bench, darting over to Sharp and hugging him tightly with her wings. “You mean did she tell me that you’d remembered my birthday after all? Yeah, she told me. That we were gonna do what I wanted for the rest of the day?”

“That about covers it,” Sharp said. “Before we actually go inside—I wanted to show you these. You can have them when we’re back on the Horizon.” He twisted to one side, removing a sturdy-looking container buckled across the front.

Emerald took it back to the bench, flipping it over. Even Theo looked over to see what was inside. A filly-sized hammer, chisel, and a few more little tools she could only assume were used in blacksmithing. They didn’t look brand new, though—the steel was dented and scratched many times, even if it had been scrubbed to a sparkly metallic shine. The case was old too.

“They were my first tools,” he supplied. “My father bought them for me, when I apprenticed. Now I’m giving them to you.”

Emerald froze, her eyes filling with tears. She held still there, staring off down the street. Ponies passing them on the sidewalk gave them plenty of space. They seemed far more polite than any crowd she’d seen in the real city—no one bumped into them as a sign for them to move, or swore at them for blocking foot traffic.

The filly sniffed, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “Are you… are you sure about… about giving me…”

“Yes yes.” Sharp scooped up the case, tucking it away into his saddlebags. “But we wouldn’t want you carrying them into the museum. That would give ponies the wrong idea about our intentions. They’re yours as soon as we’re back on the Horizon.”

She sniffed, darting over and hugging him again. She didn’t move until Sharp finally nudged her away. “Alright, sweetheart. That’s enough. I know you’re grateful. You can show me by making something wonderful. Maybe… maybe down the road we’ll think about installing a portable forge on the Horizon. The safety concerns are substantial, but we do have enough weight to spare now that we’re missing an engine. Perhaps something we can deploy when we land.”

Emerald turned slightly from him, looking at her.

Theo shook her head sadly. “I wish I had something as meaningful as your master to give you, Emerald.” She could buy her something with all those new bits, but would that really make a difference to her? She’d grown up in a tiny village with nothing, and Equestria had precious few luxuries to offer.

“I don’t want you to give me something,” Emerald said, stopping beside her and grinning up. “But you could do something else. You should sing for me! Birds are supposed to be great at it!”

“Are you… I’m not a singer, Emerald. It wouldn’t sound very good.”

Emerald shook her head. “I can tell, you have a great voice. My mom used to sing with me, but she’s…”

She blushed, ears flattening. There wasn’t much she could do besides pat Emerald on the head again. How was she supposed to say no when the kid put it like that? “How about when we get back to the Horizon. You wouldn’t even be able to hear it over all these ponies.”

“Good point.” She lifted a hoof to her eyes, pointing it at Theo. “I won’t forget. Don’t you forget.”

“I won’t.”

They made their way to the museum doors. This time Theo stayed beside Sharp every moment, watching to see exactly how the transaction took place. The Equestrian monetary system wasn’t that complicated when you really broke it down—bits came in platinum, gold, and silver, ten to each. I probably should’ve asked about this to make sure I wasn’t being ripped off.

Most of her negotiating had just been about getting them to promise bigger numbers.

Theo watched Sharp pay with a single platinum bit, then counted the change carefully to make sure of her suspicions. One transaction later, and she felt prepared to do it herself if the need arose.

She would have to go over the bits in her pouch and see if the street-food stall had ripped her off.

The museum wasn’t all that different from plenty she’d visited on Earth, though of course the Equestrians lacked any of the interactive displays that were becoming more common in her world. There were a few with little Feather logos on the plaques, with speakers that played simple recordings as they approached.

Summer was almost as fascinated as Emerald by the displays, depicting a world that had little resemblance to the one she’d left behind. They had the same period of ancient life—but in the Equestrian display, ancient hoofed deer had befriended the saber-tooth-tigers instead of being hunted by them. On another display, ancient monkeys were shown with no more intelligence than any other creature, and there were no hints of what might’ve been.

Actually it was the opposite—so far as the museum seemed to show, each period’s hoofed creatures were an earlier chapter of civilization. In the same way that man’s early progenitors went back a million years or maybe more with different definitions, the ponies viewed their past as starting much further back than that.

Tribal hunter-gatherers stretching back into mists of time that made humanity’s own look like a blink. No way. This is fiction. If they’d really started that long ago, they’d be flying through space and building megastructures by now.

It wasn’t the time to have a conversation like that with Sharp, so she just made a mental note and kept following Emerald.

“Ooh, look at this! Look, they have old Celestina armor!” There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to what she decided to look at—little Emerald seemed equally interested by everything in the museum, so long as there was some metal involved.

But while she ran ahead to lead them from one place to the next, that gave Sharp and Theo time to talk in the back without being disturbed.

“I’ve already checked with the gift shop,” he began, voice calm. “They’ve got topographical maps of the whole world. It shouldn’t be hard to use one of them to find Mt. Aris.”

“That’s great.”

“I think we should leave tomorrow morning,” Sharp went on, obviously trying to sound casual. “It’s possible that offer you used to get all those bits took time to make its way up to Feather. But they can’t do anything to us if we’re already gone.”

If he hoped to slide that past Theo without her noticing just by virtue of talking quickly, it didn’t work. Theo frowned. “Hold on. We can’t leave until after I talk to Kate. We can’t just take her bits without hearing her out.”

Sharp opened his mouth to argue—probably to say the same stupid non-answers he’d done whenever she came up. “No, Sharp. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, and I appreciate how far you’ve taken me. But I’m not going to run away from the only one of my kind in your whole planet just because you tell me I should. If you don’t want me to see her… then tell me explicitly why. Otherwise, I’m going.”

Sharp tensed visibly, as though she’d just hit him. Emerald didn’t notice, she was far too engrossed with an exhibit on “thaumic crystal deposits.” A few other visitors glanced sideways at them with looks of reproof. Compared to the near-silence of the museum, they might as well be shouting.

Finally Sharp sighed. “I know Kat-ate,” he said. “She came through the Doorway before you, maybe… three years ago.”

Theo’s shoulders sagged and her brain started to fuzz. Her mouth hung open, and she pushed it shut with the back of one leg. “I thought… You lied to me, Sharp. You said I was the first one.”

She no longer cared that creatures were staring, even Emerald at this point. She puffed out her chest, spreading her wings instinctively, glowering at him. They were nearly the same height, so she didn’t have the size to intimidate. But she sure tried.

“I said you were the first Traveler like you,” he argued. But even as he said it, his voice was weak, full of guilt. He knew he’d been lying. Unlike Theo, he wasn’t yelling. His voice was a low whisper, forcing her to lean close to him and listen if she wanted to hear.

“Summer Ray, she was a monster. The things she was willing to do… nothing like you. She manipulated ponies, used them. She didn’t care who got hurt if it meant she could take what she wanted.

“For months I let her use me, the way she used others. But then somepony died because of her. Would you do that? No. You’re not even the same species. I refused to believe Travelers were like her.”

Theo glanced past him, to where a pony with a uniform vest was approaching. She shut her mouth, lowering her head apologetically. She wouldn’t yell. That didn’t mean she would change her mind.

“You should’ve told me, Sharp. From the beginning. We could’ve had an honest conversation about this. But you’re asking an awful lot from me right now. You’re telling me one of my people is a murderer, right after lying to me for months? What reason could you possibly have?”

His ears flattened, his tail tucked in. For a few seconds, she wondered if he would answer at all. Emerald looked between the two of them with horror on her face, almost as bad as the way she’d looked in Sleighsburg. Some birthday this was turning out to be.

“I thought she was someone else,” he said. “We were together for months, like I said. I didn’t want you to—”

Together. Theo could feel the mental switch being flipped as she realized what he meant. He’d been used by this pony, and she’d done it through their relationship. They’d been together.

I liked him. She looked up at Sharp’s face, then backed away. Whatever rational voice that might’ve made her stop—repeated how irrational it was that she expect someone never have a relationship before her own—that fell completely silent.

Does he like Travelers because he wants to get physical with us? Is that all this ever was? She knew in that moment the one person she could ask, and it wasn’t Sharp.

“If you want to leave tomorrow—fine. Maybe I’ll come with, I’m not sure yet. But right now… right now, I’m going to Feather. Kate Alasie said that humans should stick together. She said that she’d help. Once she realizes that we still have a way of getting home, I’m sure she’ll… I might not even need the ride anymore.”

She ran. She ignored Sharp’s calls, ignored Emerald, she just ran. She dodged around displays, then rolled sideways off the balcony and glided down to the first floor. She barely even heard the indignant voice of the museum clerk as she stormed out the doors, and down the street.

Crowd. Got to get lost in it. Can’t let him find me. The trouble with that was that Sharp would know where she was going. The Feather building was taller than any other in the city, with distinctive white paint over its otherwise drab brickwork. She ran the other way, into the thickest crowd of ponies she could find. She thought she heard the museum doors bang open, but she didn’t glance over her shoulder to find out. Instead she kept her head down, using the biggest crowds she could find to try and stay hidden.

The further she got, the more she expected to have Emerald fly down on her from above, or turn a corner to see Sharp standing there.

She didn’t. After running for several minutes, she realized she’d lost them completely. Sharp Edge wasn’t there—maybe he hadn’t followed her at all.

Ignoring her tears, Theo set off for the beacon of the white Feather building, its black painted logo visible even from this distance.

We humans need to stick together. Let’s get that portal back open, Kate. I know you’ll help me get home.

She wasn’t really crying, that was just the pollution from the city’s automobiles. Sure, there weren’t any, but that was a minor detail. Happy Birthday, Emerald.

Chapter 26: I Made My Move

Theo stumbled into the lobby of the Feather building about an hour later. She hadn’t seen any sign of Sharp or Emerald trying to stop her. That hurt plenty in its own way—she’d ran away as though she were being followed, but she didn’t actually know that she was. Maybe they didn’t care.

The lobby was spacious and mostly empty, with a single reception desk by an elevator on the far wall and a large fountain in the center. So ponies did have them. They just weren’t installed in magical crystal castles.

There were actually three figures in the room, not just the mare behind the reception desk. Two burly-looking stallions blocked the way to the stairs. They wore suits instead of the metal armor more typical of ponies, though they were bulky enough that she wouldn’t have known if they had a handgun tucked away somewhere.

Stop being paranoid, Theo. They’re not going to hurt you. This place doesn’t even have guns.

“I’m afraid we don’t take visitors without appointments,” said the mare, watching her skeptically as she approached. “Whyever you’re here, you’re probably lost.”

“I’m not,” she said, pulling out the letter from her saddlebags and placing it on the table between them. “Kate Alasie gave that to me. She said I should show you, and I’d get to see her right away.”

The secretary looked annoyed, glancing once at the guards by the elevator. One began to make his way over—slowly, casually. Trying not to be obvious.

Theo ignored him, watching as the secretary looked the letter over. Once she saw the strange language, all her annoyance and apprehension vanished. She didn’t seem able to read what it said, but that didn’t matter. She passed it back after a few seconds, then bent down to a metal box in front of her with a few buttons. Not much resemblance to Equestrian technology, but she already knew to expect that.

“The VIP you’ve been waiting for has arrived, Miss Feather. Should I send her up?”

The response came back just as quickly. “Directly, please.”

“Right this way.” She gestured at the elevator. “Mr. Bullion will show you up.”

Theo slipped the letter away again, then approached the elivator. She hardly noticed the way Bullion clearly trailed behind her. She didn’t wonder what he might do if she tried to leave now, not at all.

Theo stepped into the elevator, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see a pony standing by a complex set of levers. Bullion reached over him with one thick hoof, flipping the lever highest on the board. There wasn’t even a number next to it like the others, just a little Feather symbol.

He nodded hurriedly, cranking at a wheel until the lever shut, then pressed cautiously on the lift lever. It was nothing like a modern elevator, of the hydraulic type she’d ridden in most often in her life. This one smacked her into the floor with the abrupt weight of gravity as they started to rise, with the operator-pony carefully manipulating the dials at every inch.

As they rose, the glass on the far wall became a window out of the building. Theo watched Manehattan rise all around her, then fall again as they rose above even the tallest native structure. Feather’s headquarters was bigger than any other structure in the city.

Finally they came to a jerky halt, and the operator rang a bell. “Penthouse,” he said, cranking the door open for them. Bullion waited behind her as before, until Theo stepped out into the space beyond.

It was vast and luxurious, everything she might expect from the CEO of a gigantic, successful company. Kate’s desk was near a window, which had to be separated into panels rather than sheets. Apparently Equestria didn’t have structural plate-glass.

Another side of the room was dedicated to chalkboards, bookshelves, and a workshop of sorts. Prominent in one corner of that workshop was a rugged laptop, weirdly large just like Theo’s own camera. It was pretty old, with the painfully-thick bezels of older generation computers. But the screen was on, and the computer hummed quietly. Windows 7.

Another stallion in a suit waited by a door on the far side, a thick earth pony just like the one who had led her up here. There was nopony else in the room, though she could almost hear voices of urgent activity through the floor. This space was peaceful, but the rest of the building was still an active company.

“You must be Theo Pichler,” Kate said from her desk, remaining bent over something. A large blueprint, with a drafting compass and square spread beside her.

She was a hippogriff, just like Theo expected. Even so, she bent down and fumbled with the necklace, pocketing it on pretense of removing her scarf for the heat.

“Did you really come here from Earth?” Theo asked, crossing from a granite floor and onto a soft white carpet. It seemed perfectly selected for her claws, just soft enough for her to appreciate in a way a pony never would. “Are you human?”

She watched her face, searching for any sign of recognition.

Had she been lied to? Was Sharp right after all this time?

“Forgive me, I haven’t used English in a long time,” she said. Her voice was halting, her words thickly accented. She hadn’t removed any jewelry, assuming she had even been wearing any. She wore little clothing, only a white vest and a little loop of silvery metal on her head, almost like a crown. Almost.

“I did not think I would.” She sat up, extending a claw towards her. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand. Can’t reach that far.”

Theo nodded, relaxing. Thank God, she’s real. She settled the scarf back into place, then searched for a seat. There were none on the other side of the desk, and after a few seconds she just settled onto her haunches.

The desk was apparently chosen to be just too tall to get a good look at what it might contain from this side. Kate must be sitting in a pretty tall chair too, to seem so big.

“I can’t believe there was someone else here!” Theo exclaimed. “All this time, you’ve been… running Apple.”

Finally this new creature showed a little emotion. She smiled knowingly, glancing over her shoulder at the gigantic Feather logo framed there in the glass.

“You know that, but they don’t.” She flicked one wing towards the window. “But I don’t think you came to tell them, did you?”

Why did I come? She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find an answer, and just closed it again. “No. I didn’t want to come here at all… Kate?” She glanced to one side, at the laptop. “Were you actually prepared for this trip? Or just luckier than I was?”

“I don’t think I’d call landing here lucky by any definition,” she answered. “Though… if I remember Sleighsburg, it’s halfway to frozen already. So perhaps you’re lucky that you didn’t die before you could find help.”

“There was a pony there when I landed… I think maybe you might know him. Sharp Edge? He’s a blacksmith in Sleighsburg, expert on the Doorway…”

“Oh,” Kate’s expression went suddenly cold, and one claw scraped on the heavy wooden desk. “We’ve met. I’d prefer not to discuss him.”

Theo shivered in spite of herself. She wasn’t here to argue with Kate, she’d done enough of that with the pony who saved her life. She was here to escape from all that. “He doesn’t matter. I’m trying to get back home.”

For a second, Theo thought she could see Kate’s face harden again—but she was probably just imagining that. “I believe I was entirely thorough in my letter.” She rose from her desk suddenly, pacing past one section of gigantic window to a stone model not far from the desk.

Theo recognized it suddenly—it was the Doorway, perched precariously atop a tall desk. It was elevated high enough that Theo’s primary view was of the mechanical underside.

Whoever had crafted this had done so with spectacular accuracy, right down to the large support-section in the center, and the control box with its mysterious openings.

“I’ve been here for years, Theodor.” She raised an eyebrow at that, resting one claw on the side of the desk. “That’s, uh… strange name.”

“Don’t even get me started,” she said, letting a little of her annoyance through. “I wasn’t female on the other side. They call me Summer Ray on this side. Less of a headache.”

Kate winced, patting her shoulder consolingly. “I’m afraid I have no solution to that particular problem, not with all the wealth and resources I have amassed. I expect you’ve experienced an inadvertent side-effect of the Rosen bridge. The machinery that creates it is more than a little complex, as you can see.”

She leaned in, squinting at the model. “You’ve been studying it for years, and you can’t get it to work again?”

She nodded solemnly, walking past the model to one of her large drafting areas. She removed several huge scrolls from the desk, climbing up using a ladder on tracks to reach. Guess she didn’t find the time to learn to fly either.

“The bridge isn’t entirely artificial, The—Summer. Is that alright?” She didn’t actually wait for confirmation, spreading the first of the large scrolls over whatever she was sketching. “See, Summer?” She’d seen maps like this, false color overlays of radiation superimposed on topography. It was precisely the sort of map that the Observatory might’ve produced, though far less precise. Here each patch of color was obviously done by hand, with imprecise blurring between each real observation rather than computational modeling.

She did see. In the center of the map was the large ramp, and the structure underneath mostly buried in snow. The bridge. All the colors were distributed randomly, in entropic patches.

“When the bridge is activated…” She spread the second one, exactly over the first. Now the door itself was bright orange, with reddish fading to purple spread around it and every random patch of radiation gone.

Theo didn’t know exactly what was being measured here, and there was no scale. But the meaning was clear enough for her to see.

Kate supplied the answer. “The bridge doesn’t open to just anywhere. Think of it more like… a stargate. Did you ever watch that show?” Again, she didn’t wait for her response. She didn’t even seem to care. “You need a door open on the other side. So far as I can tell, this planet once had a much more advanced culture than it now possesses, one that explored well beyond the two worlds we know about. Equestria itself might be a distant colo—whatever, I can see you don’t care. My point is, their bridge on this side generates a phenomenon reliably that can—with exceptional rarity—be generated naturally. A precise configuration of difficult-to-produce high energy particles, either stabilizing an existing bridge or creating one. I’m afraid the specific science exceeds my grasp.”

And you were afraid of her, Sharp? If anything, watching the creature in front of her reminded Theo of Sharp himself. Hopelessly invested in her own craft, to the exclusion of everything else. She was even talking about nerdy TV shows, that Theo had seen thank you very much.

“Are you with me so far?”

Theo nodded hastily. “You’re saying the hippogriffs built a stargate here in their world, and used it to connect to spontaneously-generated conditions elsewhere.”

She nodded. “Yes, excellent. I forget you came from the Observatory—of course the basic principles wouldn’t be too much for you. I’ll condense. I believe the ancient civilization traveled from this world to many others—in each, they would send an expedition knowing they must succeed or die. The faction who arrived on our planet either failed to create the bridge on the other side, or, as I think is more likely, they did complete it. But after contact with our species, they chose to destroy it.

“In either case, the result for you and me is the same. Even if the bridge was working on this end—and it doesn’t appear to be—there is no device on the other end to stabilize a connection. You can’t open a door that isn’t there.”

She puffed herself out, spreading her wings a little. This was the moment she’d been building towards, the one she’d been preparing for. “We can’t go home, ever. Whatever conditions brought you here were fundamentally an entropically inconceivable accident. Even if we could repair the device on our end, you could end up anywhere. The trip would never be worth the risk.”

Theo stared out at the model, letting the weight of those words settle on her. Certainly they were discouraging—they were meant to be. But as she thought about it, she realized she was worried about nothing. She grinned, bouncing suddenly up and down.

“I think we might’ve accidentally discovered the thing that hippogriffs have been using for all these years!” She circled around the model, voice eager. “Barrow Observatory was recently commissioned by Graz University to perform a high-energy particle observation experiment. I was in the process of upgrading the array when I ended up here. It wasn’t an accident—it happened the instant I switched on the diagnostic. And I know it must still be working on the other side, because the next day I got a radio reply!”

She started pacing back and forth, barely even watching Kate’s expression. She couldn’t easily tell what emotions the other hippogriff might be feeling in any case, with her expression a mask like that.

“I think if we can get the bridge on our side fixed before the experiment ends, we should be able to cross right back! We can go home, Kate!” She reached out, settling one claw on her shoulder, before being casually brushed aside.

“I wish it were that simple,” Kate answered, her voice seeming strangely cold. “Summer, you don’t know how complex the machinery is on this side. Even I barely understand the gateway. Its components are mostly spells, not mechanical or electrical. Even when physically damaged, they apparently mend themselves—but not correctly. I’m certain that if the door’s power reserves weren’t already depleted, your arrival finished that task. You saw yourself—when you opened the door a second time, you were not able to return home.”

Summer stopped, frowning to herself. “How do you… know that?”

“Because you just said you got radio contact,” Kate said hastily. “If it was more than that, you wouldn’t be standing in my office.”

“Oh, right.” She relaxed again. “I think you’re right about power—but that’s a solvable problem. We can go south to the hippogriffs, and ask for their help.”

Kate shook her head again, turning away from the model and looking out at the setting sun with a distant, pained expression. “Again you run up against a barrier I have already encountered, Summer. The hippogriffs are not a cooperative faction. They seem… determined that the door never be opened again. Their fear for whatever is on the other side well exceeds irrational. Even a mention of humanity often results in hostility.”

Theo slumped onto her haunches in front of the desk, remembering her experience with the ambassador. She hadn’t exactly been treated well during that conversation. As soon as he’d seen proof of her humanity, he’d tried to get her locked away.

At least Kate hadn’t tried to do that. She spoke English, and she had artifacts from Earth. Theo wasn’t crazy! “If they’re so afraid of us, wouldn’t they be trying to get rid of us? You’re from Earth, and so am I. We’re loose to do whatever we want in Equestria. And apparently… we do a lot.” She glanced over her shoulder at the vast office again, and the designs framed on the wall.

Kate shook her head. “We’re in Equestria. They don’t seem to care how much trouble we cause as long as we leave their nation-state alone. If you tried to go to Seaquestria, you’d see for yourself. They’d lock you up and throw away the key. But… you don’t have to worry, Summer.” She fumbled in her drawer, removing something. An envelope, with something heavy inside. It thumped onto the desk between them.

“I wrote to you with a promise that we humans would stick together, and I meant it. I’ve amassed… more money than any one person can spend. So long as you’re in the city, I’ll make sure you live just as well as I do, no strings attached. But if you want to work for Feather, I’m sure we can find a place for you. Whatever your technical background, I guarantee you’re beyond every living person on this planet. Unless you’re an electrical engineer, in which case you’re beyond everyone else on this planet.” She chuckled, mostly to herself. Theo didn’t laugh along.

Theo reached out, scooping the envelope off the desk and turning it over in front of her. It wasn’t sealed, she could glance inside easily. A single scrawled note, and what looked like a house key.

Kate was offering her a life here in Manehattan. A comfortable, well-appointed life. From the total lack of signs of aging on Kate’s face, it was one that would probably last a decent long while. Longer than a real bird lived, anyway.

“Don’t you want to go home?” She wasn’t sure where the words came from, but she asked them anyway, settling the envelope down on the table in front of her. “The experiment on the other side only runs for… another year? There’s limited space up there. That’s assuming they didn’t end it already, which… I’m going to assume, because my disappearance shouldn’t reflect bad on the project. But still. We have a window we could use to go back. Maybe it will be hard, maybe we have to convince the hippogriffs to help us.

“But look at all this!” She gestured around with her wings. “I know what’s convincing to most people, money. Maybe all we have to do is buy off a hippogriff to come with us with their… necklace-things. Whatever they are. And you said it yourself, you’ve been studying the portal for years now! If anyone can fix it, you can.”

Kate sat back in her chair, her expression going hard again. She settled both claws on the desk in front of her, tapping them impatiently as Theo ranted. At least she didn’t interrupt until she finished.

“Returning to Earth is too dangerous,” she repeated, like the words of some sacred mantra. “You probably won’t even end up on the right planet… and more importantly, even the attempt would upset a delicate balance of factors I have been working very precisely to control for almost a decade.” She spun her chair around, turning her back on Summer as she looked out the window.

Out in Manehattan below, the lights were coming on. Buildings lit up, and spotlights began to shine on billboards. Many were for Feather products. Did she buy those specifically, or does she just own all of them? “Maybe you haven’t taken the time to look, but this world is an opportunity, Summer. There are virgin soils out there, never touched. Ancient land still belongs to the ones who first settled it. There’s no hole in the ozone, the oceans aren’t rising.”

She spun back around, folding her claws across the desk. “We have a responsibility to these creatures. We aren’t just here to enjoy the luxuries that creating things for them provides. We’re prophets from a… doomed time. With my guidance, this planet can be kept from making the same mistakes as the one we left behind. Yes, that takes money, and exploiting certain resources… but the goal was never to keep civilization primitive. Even if I could leave today, I wouldn’t. Who would guide them if I don’t?”

Can’t they guide themselves? If you already think they made better choices, why would bringing us help?

“Okay.” Theo raised her wings defensively, backing a little way away from the desk. “I’m not trying to pressure you to leave, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been here a lot longer than I have. Obviously you’ve worked things out. You learned their language, you built this whole… company. That’s a lot to give up. But what about me? Let me take your bits and… travel south. I already have some friends who were willing to make the trip.”

Maybe if they don’t already hate me, they’ll still be willing to go. “They can take me down there. I might not even need your help, but… I wouldn’t say no. Maybe you could let me borrow what you’ve learned about the portal. If you have any designs, or technical sketches. I’m more of a software developer than an electrical engineer, but I can probably understand whatever you wrote.”

Kate’s expression remained unreadable. She tapped two claws on the desk, in a way that seemed casual to Theo, like a tick. Except that the guards on both sides of the room suddenly straightened, turning towards them. They still didn’t move—she was just getting their attention.

“I already explained this, Summer. I’m not going to explain it again. I’m sorry you lost Earth. But if you go back, your disappearance will be impossible to explain away.” She folded her claws across the desk again. “Can I be straight with you? I’m going to be straight with you.”

Theo nodded, rising to her claws and approaching the desk. “What do you think is going to happen to this place if those…” She cleared her throat. “If those people on the other side of that portal figure out what’s out here? A virgin world, uncorrupted, unspoiled. Perfect. You said it yourself, they might’ve accidentally discovered the way across. Combination of some… new telescope and the aurora. I’ve known it was possible for some time, since I had to build something similar to get here in the first place. For all I know, that university found my old designs.”

Summer’s mouth hung open, but she didn’t interrupt. She did keep glancing over her shoulder, wishing she’d listened to Sharp a little more with every moment.

“The balance I keep is on both sides of the doorway. Pressure on the hippogriffs to keep away from their old artifacts—otherwise, they might end up opening a door they should’ve left closed. And pressure on Earth, not to discover this. Obviously something must’ve been different about your crossing, or we would have had half a dozen people here by now. But no one fell here after you did. That means we’re still safe over here.”

She slumped forward, rubbing her temples with two claws. They weren’t actually sharp—she’d apparently trimmed them so close they were almost like fingers. Almost. “If none of the other difficulties before you will deter you, then listen to this, Summer. I am the most powerful person in Equestria. Even their monarch doesn’t have the eyes I have. Yeah, it fucking sucks that you lost your dick. It sucks you lost your family, or maybe your lover, or I don’t really care what. Cry about it, you’ve earned a good cry.

“But when you’re done crying, look me in the eye and realize you aren’t going home. I will not allow any hint of the bridge to be seen on that side. I will do anything to prevent that information from spreading. I’ve bought politicians, I’ve manipulated archeological funding boards. I’ve made ships never reach their ports.”

She tapped the desk again, and the guards began to approach. Slowly, keeping their distance. Earth ponies of that size would be faster than she was, and much stronger. There would be no getting past them to reach the doors.

“Take that envelope, live a life of luxury. Maybe help me save this planet, if you want to. Or don’t, just drink and fuck and die. There’s no cocaine here, but I could probably get you a metric assload of opium if you wanted it. I’ll get you anything you want, so long as you stay where I can see you, and don’t try to open things that should stay closed. Are we clear?”

Summer backed away from the guards. She was already up against the desk—so she moved to the side, towards the bookshelf. “We’re clear,” she said, opening the envelope and holding up the key. “So this… this is somewhere for me to live?”

Kate relaxed. “Yes. Now let’s see sense for a moment. We don’t need to be enemies. Humans should stick together. Just enjoy what I want to give you, and don’t give me grief. It isn’t a bad life here, really. Equestria might seem primitive, but it isn’t as culturally different as you think. For all you know, you might forget about being a man.”

Summer moved in a blur, slamming her shoulder into the model. It tumbled, heavy stone and metal table crashing right into the window. The glass shattered in a spectacular spray of multicolored shards.

“The fuck are you—”

The first guard lunged for her. Summer dodged, climbing up on the wrecked desk and leaping out the opening. Glass dug into her side and one of her back legs, but she ignored it—it didn’t hurt much.

She didn’t even think about the distance, and the spectacular drop down below her. She spread her wings and flew.

Chapter 27: And Ran Away

Summer fell amid a gale of roaring updrafts, each one rising from the front of a different skyscraper. Some part of her had wondered why there were so few ponies flying between the dense skyscrapers, and now she learned. The sky didn’t want her here. What was worse: Summer wasn’t some master aerial navigator, able to dodge and weave and dart through the sky with dozens of named maneuvers. Emerald wanted her to learn, but Emerald wasn’t here.

They’re behind me. Someone as powerful as Kate will have people for this. She’d chosen to staff her bodyguards with the strongest ponies there were—but Summer had already seen she had pegasus ponies working for her too. She had to move.

You were right, she thought, eyes blurring with tears. I’m so sorry, Sharp. She kept her wings spread, not so much gliding down towards the docks as she was falling very slowly. Occasionally she caught another updraft and went spinning, and had to desperately catch herself.

No highly-trained kill team caught her in the air to slit her throat, or anything similarly grim. Finally the ground came rushing up to meet her—an empty backroad, not far from the dock. She skidded to a halt, tumbling and landing against a rusty dumpster.

Summer whimpered, trying and failing to sit up. Her whole body was shaking, and not just from the strain of her brief glide. I should’ve listened to you, Sharp. You’ve been helping me since my first day in Equestria. It was true the pony had kept things from her—but what had she done? Basically cost Sharp his whole life.

She knew she should be running, that Kate or some Feather agent would be after her. Her path through Manehattan had been erratic, but the city was only so large. They’d find her.

But instead of running, she curled up and cried, there in an empty back alley.

She couldn’t have said how long she lay there on the empty concrete. Position didn’t matter to her, time hardly even seemed to pass. If ponies walked past her on the street, they kept their distance and didn’t ask questions. But this wasn’t a main street, there hadn’t been any traffic when she landed.

Eventually though, she did hear something. A set of hoofsteps, moving purposefully towards her. She didn’t sit up, didn’t even open her eyes. Should she run? Why bother? Where could she go?

The hooves stopped only a little distance away. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t get up. She wasn’t going to make it any easier on them.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Sharp Edge said. “I’ve got an airship with extra seats, if you’d like.”

She blinked, opening one eye. Sharp and Emerald stood in the amber glow of a streetlight, watching her. Finally she sat up, wiping away tears as best she could. “Y-you… how did you…”

“Find you?” Emerald finished. “You were pretty obvious going down. How many hippogriffs do you think there are in Manehattan?”

She winced, rising onto unsteady claws. “That… makes sense. My fault, just like a lot of things.”

Sharp met her, wrapping one foreleg around her in a powerful hug. She clung there like she might blow away in the wind, holding to him as tightly as she dared. Even with Emerald watching, she didn’t care.

“I guess you met Kat-ate,” he said. Not angry, not judgmental. His voice was flat. “How was that?”

She squeaked in response, finally pulling away from him. “Not great. W-we should… I mean, if you still want me anywhere near you.”

“Where else would we go?” Emerald asked, hugging her too. A far more innocent gesture, though it didn’t fill Summer with any less joy. These were the ones who cared about her. There was no pile of money big enough to give them up. After all they’d done together, how had she ever even considered leaving them behind?

“I should’ve told you everything,” Sharp said. “This didn’t have to be so dramatic. I just… didn’t want to frighten you. Or have you wander after her just because she came from the same place.”

“I know,” she said. “I forgive you. I hope you’ll… forgive me. For running off like that, and maybe pissing her off. Like… if I’m thinking about it, we probably shouldn’t just be standing around here? She’s… probably really upset.”

“If you made her angry, then… I certainly forgive you,” Sharp said. “But you’re probably right. She won’t, and she’ll make sure we know it.”

They ran, Summer following Sharp back the way they’d come through the entrance to the nearest alley, then up towards the dock. At least they didn’t have very far to go.

A few minutes later and they were rising into the air, jerked upward by the Horizon’s oversized gasbag. Summer perched on the back of the deck, watching the city fall behind them. The spots of streetlights and the glow of buildings might’ve been mistaken for an Earth city, if she couldn’t still make out some of the ponies moving between them.

“What are you looking for?” Emerald asked, settling down beside her near the railing.

Assassins. “Bad ponies,” she said. “The pony I went to see was… probably the meanest I’ve ever met. But it looks like she didn’t send anypony after us. Or maybe she didn’t know we had an airship.”

Emerald nodded, looking down at the city herself. “What about that?”

Summer followed her hoof, and her heart almost seized in her chest.

There were dozens of other airships in the air, many larger and far newer than theirs. But until that moment, none of the other ships had diverted from their paths.

A massive hulk slowly turned on them, its bow pointed unmistakably on the diagonal of their current path. “Shit.”

Theo turned, running up the deck as quickly as she could. “Sharp! Sharp, there’s…” She stumbled to a stop beside the helm, clutching at her chest. “Sharp, we’re being followed!”

The earth pony had a chart pinned to the deck beside him, marked all over with hatches in red and blue. Summer had no idea what they meant, but obviously it was something.

Sharp lifted the telescope to his eye, staring back at the airship behind them. He smacked it closed a second later. “Well buck.”

Emerald landed beside them another moment later. “Master? Should you be using—”

“Yes!” he interrupted. “That’s a Purple Dart-class. It’s an old naval ship, maybe twenty years… from the look of it, the lightning projector is still working.”

“Oh.” Emerald winced. “Wait, if it’s the navy, then… what’s so bad?”

“Those aren’t navy ponies on it.” Sharp froze, his face scrunching just a little. Theo knew that look—it was how he looked when he was thinking intently about something. He followed the path of the little ship, then glanced back at his map. “Alright. I think… I think I have a plan.”

Theo watched the distant ship. No others seemed to be turning in their direction, which was far from the ordinary lanes of traffic. She stared for several seconds, watching as it got closer. The ship had four massive engines, spaced along its hull. She imagined she could already hear them roaring.

“Summer, helm. Keep us on a heading of…” He glanced at the map. “Fifteen degrees southwest. There’s a compass above the helm.”

“Uh… are you sure that’s a good idea, Sharp? Last time I tried to fly your ship, I crashed it into a lake.”

“We were trying to do that,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Emerald, with me. We need more speed, and I’ll need your help to get it.”

She saluted. “Aye, captain!”

“What are we…” Theo wasn’t imagining it. Their pursuers were definitely gaining on them. Already she could make out the shape of ponies on deck. At least a dozen of them, probably further down. Almost all of them were pegasus ponies this time. “Sharp, they’re faster than us!”

“I know.” He rested one hoof on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “That chart you’re almost standing on? That’s the weather report for the Badlands. See those red swirls?”

She nodded weakly.

“That’s a tropical storm over the ocean. It’s about… fifty kilometers south. We have to stay out of range of that ship for…” He frowned, his face scrunching again as he worked out the numbers. “Too long. Got to go!” He turned, darting down the steps.

“Why are we flying into a storm?” Summer asked, but he didn’t respond. There was nothing for her to do but clamber resolutely up to the helm, settling her claws on the wheel. Sure enough, there was the compass—they’d already drifted off course.

She twisted slightly to the side, watching the little needle spin. It wasn’t a passive endeavor—they were flying into the wind, and it was strong enough that it might’ve lifted her right from the deck if she spread her wings and jumped.

At least something works in our favor. They’ve got a much larger volume than we do. They’ll have to fight harder.

Even so, the distant ship was gaining on them. She looked back again, and sure enough it was a little bigger in the sky. But it also wasn’t rising nearly as fast as they could. That probably means it’s going to catch up even faster once we reach our equilibrium height.

She shuddered, remembering the rage she’d seen on Kate’s face as she shattered the window. Would some misunderstood… environmentalist… really order her killed to prevent her from going back to Earth?

Theo was out of the emotional energy to consider it. In one day she’d learned that her closest friend in Equestria had lied to her, had an evil hippogriff try to lock her in golden handcuffs, and jumped out of a building.

Somewhere below her, the Horizon’s engine went from a quiet purr to a roar. The gentle white smoke behind them turned black, and the deck visibly lurched under her claws. Suddenly the gasbag was dragging them back, instead of lifting them up. It wasn’t a healthy sound. The whole ship was shaking now, as though the engine was trying to rattle itself into a pile of screws.

The distant ship, which was close enough now for her to make out the strangely forked bit of metal emerging from her prow—stopped getting closer.

Emerald emerged from the doorway just ahead of a cloud of smoke, her mane greased up and standing on end. “Hey Summer! Sharp wants to know if we’re gonna be boarded.”

“Not yet!” she yelled over the engine, her claws digging divets into the wooden wheel. “Is Sharp going to blow us up?”

“I, uh… I don’t think so?” She tilted her head slightly to one side. “I’ve never seen him work so hard. I think it’s… magic? Like, special talent stuff.” She blushed, looking to one side. “He’s really good at this.”

“Good!” Summer pointed at the ship behind them. Manehattan had long since faded into the distance, only a faint orange glow on the horizon. But if she let her eyes lose focus just right, she could see the little lights of the other airship, and its crew darting back and forth on the deck. “Not a second too soon!”

The other ship wasn’t rising as high as they did, and it didn’t seem like it would go any higher up.

“Do you still like Sharp?” Emerald asked, as though they weren’t running for their lives. “He’s not sure if you’ll want to be his marefriend after what happened today. He’s too shy to ask.”

“Is now really the time for—” Summer’s frustrated question was cut short by a sudden roar, and a flash of light so blinding that she covered her head with one leg. It seemed to glow right through her leg, blasting up into the air and shattering into a thousand different forks. A bolt of lightning, one that went up instead of down.

Finally her ears stopped ringing and she glanced up at the gasbag. Had they… no. They’d missed—it wasn’t on fire.

She’s really trying to kill me.

Emerald squealed in shock, darting over and wrapping her forelegs around one of Summer’s legs. Summer didn’t dare let go of the helm, not with the wind buffeting them and apparent lightning being shot at them from behind. But she did fold a wing down over Emerald, holding her as best she could. “Why would they do that?”

“I…” Because Kate wants me dead.

Sharp emerged from below, his eyes obscured with a pair of thick goggles. “Was that what I think it was?” He stopped, glancing briefly between them, then back at the airship pursuing them.

There was no mistaking it now, the entire front of the ship was glowing a bright orange. The aftermath of the shot, maybe.

“We should turn me in!” Theo yelled. “I can’t let you two be in danger because of me!”

Lightning flashed again, lighting up the sky for another terrible moment. Only it didn’t come from below them—this time it was a storm cloud.

Summer had no words to describe the vast scale of the dark cloud, towering over them like a god. It was hard to judge the power of something so much larger than herself. A wide base with a skinny middle and a flat head, raging with internal flashes and surrounded by angry black clouds. At a distance, she couldn’t tell if they would fly above it, or directly into it.

“It’s a little late for that!” Sharp yelled. “How would you propose surrendering to them? If a shot like that hits us…” He reached down, taking Emerald out from under her wing and fixing her with an intense glare. “You will fly to safety, apprentice. This isn’t a request.”

“But—”

Thunder rolled across the ship, so loud it was practically a physical force. The wind of the oncoming storm finally overpowered the engines, lifting tools and rope and bits of scrap from the deck and blasting it off into the void. Summer glanced down over the edge, but she couldn’t see either ground or ocean below. There was only darkness.

“You too, Summer!” he called. “There’s nothing more I can do to keep the engine together, so I can take the helm!” He strode up, wiping the ash from his goggles before resting his hooves into the grooves.

He was an expert. With a few slight twitches, they were cutting directly into the wind, and the gasbag didn’t sound like it was trying to tear its way free anymore. They stopped rocking back and forth, and the struggle became the contest between wind and motor.

“They’ll get one more shot before we make it!” he said. “If they miss… pray the storm doesn’t go up! We have to crest it before it hits the Foal Mountains, or it’ll tear us to pieces. No ship could survive in that!”

Now probably wasn’t the time to point out that human aircraft flew through storms all the time, and might take dozens of direct lightning-strikes in their service lives. The barn-sized bag of gaseous hydrogen over her head didn’t make her feel especially brave just now.

Instead she held onto his shoulder, clinging to Sharp without disrupting his hooves. There was nowhere to be safe from what might come next—nowhere she could go to hide from the explosion that would certainly kill her. “If we make it through this…” she called, her voice thin and reedy in the wind. “I want to—”

Lightning flashed, ripping through the air, turning the sky a brilliant white. She heard the explosion, felt the deck lurch under her hooves. She smacked into the helm, snatching Emerald before she could get ripped away.

Then the rain hit them. Not just a trickle—it felt like running into a wall, smacking into her from all directions. The engine choked and coughed below them—and they were still moving. She opened her eyes, looking desperately around in the maelstrom.

Below them was an ocean of dark waves, broken by faint flashes of white from within like angry fish. She couldn’t see more than a few meters away from the deck of the Horizon before the rain too thick. “We’re alive!” Sharp let go of the wheel, looking up at the gasbag. “They hit us, but we’re… we’re alive.”

He met her eyes, and for a moment the pounding rain and roaring wind faded into the background. Summer knew what was going to happen, and this time there was no resistance in her mind. She kissed him, right there in front of Emerald. She didn’t care if every assassin on that bucking ship wanted to watch.

That passionate moment lasted only seconds, though. The wind was still pounding them, and the storm was precariously close to the bottom of their hull.

“We need to lose some weight!” Sharp called. “Apprentice, dump as much sand as you—no, just cut them off! Summer, help her!”

They did. She couldn’t move any faster than a slow walk, without the gale trying to lift her right off the deck. She watched Emerald carefully, afraid that she might get torn up into the sky, but the little pegasus spread her wings and somehow held to the deck.

“Same ones!” Emerald called, standing on the other side. “Ready?”

“Ready!” They cut, lurching suddenly upward. They passed through the swirling black, then breached another layer of clouds.

The wind quieted, settling enough that Summer could hear the rumble of the engine again. It spluttered unhappily, the rattling thoroughly unbalanced now. That poor thing was going to need repair all over again.

But she hardly even thought about it—hardly thought about the chill of altitude, or the rain soaking every inch of her.

We made it. We’re alive.

Chapter 28: To My Family

Somewhere far above an alien planet, Summer watched the rain.

It came down in gentle sheets now, splashing off the waxed balloon. With nothing to buoy them forward but the gentle drift of high-altitude wind, she could stay dry as she watched. Somewhere far below was a dark red desert, parched land probably rejoicing at the moisture.

Not her.

Below her, she could make out a pair of faint voices, and the sound of tools on metal. She couldn’t have said what their chances were of getting moving again. What would they do if Sharp couldn’t fix the engine, get out and push? We probably could do that. Or Emerald could.

She should probably be panicking. The only other human she knew of in the entire planet had tried to kill her, and had sent the Equestrian equivalent of tactical weapons to do it. Even worse, she was well-connected enough to buy off ambassadors, employ mercenaries, and who knew what else. Maybe Equestria itself would be trying to arrest her as a dangerous criminal.

No fear over the future could equal her joy in the moment. In spite of every force arrayed against them, they’d survived.

A door rattled behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. It was Sharp, his hair slicked back with engine grease and a saddlebag filled with tools over his shoulder. He made his way over, grinning weakly. “We have a cabin. You don’t have to sit out here.”

She watched him come, not moving from the deck. “What if that ship is still after us? I need to be able to warn you.”

Sharp Edge shifted, settling down onto the deck beside her. Without thinking, Summer leaned against him, not caring about the grease or the sweat. His smell alone was comfortable and familiar now. Strength, confidence, the heat of the forge. How long had she been relying on him? Had it already been months?

“I don’t think we need to worry too much about them,” he said. “I was watching there at the end. I don’t want Emerald to know, but… I saw them clip the edge of the cloudbank.” He shook his head, expression distant and pained. “A zeppelin might’ve been able to follow us, but not a ship with a gasbag. All that volume for the wind, without a lower maximum altitude. Their pilot was a little too determined to reach us.”

“Why?” she asked. She couldn’t help but sound angry as she said it, though of course it wasn’t for him. “Why would Kate want to…” But she already knew the answer. She trailed off, looking down. “She thinks she’s going to save your world. From humans.” She stared down at the deck, ears flat. Some part of her was still trying to process the fact that at least some of those ponies hadn’t been pegasi. They’d probably died when their ship was lost. Because of her. Even if she didn’t feel guilty about the ones who had tried to kill her, there was certainly a little pain.

Sharp ran one hoof through her mane. Surprisingly sensitive for something otherwise rigid. “A pony who tried to murder us is protecting ponies from you.” He laughed bitterly. “I wonder how many creatures died because of her instruction. But… ponies can be like that too. We’ve had our Nightmare Moons, necromancers and sorcerers and warlords. I suppose she must be one of yours.”

Summer nodded weakly. There was no doubt in her mind that Kate was a murderer. But those were far more common than an occasional warlord. Did she want to admit that?

“I’m not sure if she’s completely wrong,” she said instead. “There are evil humans. Even the ones who aren’t evil like her, might still want things that help our world at your expense. I’m not sure…”

He settled one hoof around her shoulder. “That’s not a decision for ponies like us to make, Summer. Maybe you’re right, maybe not. It’s something to tell the princesses. Or… maybe the Queen of the Hippogriffs? It’s their portal.”

“I think they might have a history of contact with humans,” Summer said weakly. “Not everything Kate said was a lie. They might be… terrified of me. They might want to kill me, or force me back.”

“Force you?” Sharp raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was the entire point.”

“Right, yeah.” She whimpered, looking away. “It is. Sorry, just… I’m still shaken. I’ve never had anyone try to kill me before. Or… jumped out of a skyscraper, or ran away from someone I—” She caught herself before that went anywhere she would’ve been too embarrassed about, barely.

Sharp grinned mischievously. “Ran away from a pony you…”

She shook her head, sticking her tongue out. “I’m still mad you didn’t tell me about Kate. I don’t want you to do anything romantic until…” She scrunched her nose, thinking. “We get to Mt. Aris. That seems like… enough time.” She straightened, rising to her hooves and stepping away from him before his scent made her break her word. “How’s the engine, anyway?”

“We’ll be limping the rest of the way. It’s a good thing Feather only sent the one ship, or we’d be… in trouble. But I think we can keep ourselves moving with enough attention. You should think about what we’ll do when we arrive—you’re the hippogriff. If they’re anything like the birds in Canterlot, they won’t be happy to see Emerald and I.”

“I’m not convinced they will be,” she said reflexively. “Kate spent ten minutes bragging to me about all the different things she controlled, and most of it revolved around keeping our worlds separate. The Doorway is a hippogriff thing, but ponies seem to be the ones with enough curiosity to go out and investigate.” She must’ve known you were trying to get it to open. I wonder why she let you live.

She thought about asking that—but in the end, just sat down again, folding her wings tight to her sides against the occasional sideways burst of rain. The sound of water on the balloon was no tin roof, but it was still relaxing.

“Feather has enough bits to buy a princess,” Sharp said, voice scathing. “You could be right. And come to think of it, she’s working very hard to stop us from actually reaching Mt. Aris. I’ll assume our last misfortune in the Horizon was her work as well. That suggests that her power doesn’t reach the hippogriffs themselves. Our mission might not be hopeless after all.”

She watched him carefully, expecting him to turn back and return belowdecks. But he was watching her. “Are you…” He blushed, looking away. “Emerald should be about done with dinner by now.”

She looked away, back off the edge of the Horizon to where the rain still billowed. The storm they’d left behind was certainly dangerous and powerful. It might’ve even killed the ponies hunting them.

But the rain and the smell of Sharp was enough to finally settle her heart. “A few more minutes,” she said.

“Okay.” He settled in beside her. “Let me know. I don’t want you to get cold up here.”

Despite her threat, she didn’t send him away. He didn’t seem to mind.

Sharp Edge hadn’t been exaggerating about the difficulty they’d be facing on the rest of the trip. The engine seized up every few hours, and occasionally started shaking so badly it felt like it was going to rattle the Horizon apart. But it never did, and despite the threatening noises it made, it didn’t explode.

They sailed for over a week, sometimes seeming barely to coast compared to the dunes rolling by underneath. A part of Summer wished she actually could get out and push, but she resisted mentioning it. Even a joke would probably be an invitation for more flying lessons with Emerald.

Instead she tinkered with her Earth artifacts. Her poor Ultrabook had not survived its encounter with the lake, and no amount of coaxing or dry rice would make it so much as light up the keyboard. Her tablet had done better though, and after days of charging via her makeshift USB mechanism, she finally dared to turn it on. Apparently the OtterBox had been enough, because there wasn’t even a dead pixel.

“What is that?” Emerald asked, pulling over the other chair and hopping up next to her. She propped her forelegs up on the kitchen table, getting so close to the screen Summer almost couldn’t see it.

“A computer,” she answered, wrapping a bit of cloth from her human gloves around one of her claws. It had the strange silvery end that worked for touchscreens—even with the case, she didn’t like the idea of using animal claws on this thing. “This is the one I used for fun. I put movies and music and books on it, and some games.”

Emerald stared, eyes wide. “What’s a moo-v?”

Summer opened iTunes, scrolling through what she had stored. Most of it was far too adult to show a child, particularly an alien child with no concept for the fictional nature of the violence they might show. She scrolled desperately, until she found one film that might work, one she’d downloaded during her last visit home, to entertain her niece for a few hours.

“I’ll show you,” she said, selecting Frozen and pressing play.

It was a good guess. The tablet’s apparently larger size in Equestria made it large enough to watch comfortably, once she propped it up with a few jars of applesauce. Emerald was entranced from the very first bar of music. She didn’t seem to care that she couldn’t understand it—not when she could cling to Summer’s leg, and demand she explain everything as it happened.

The movie proved to be a good choice in more ways than one. Emerald clearly loved the music, so much that she made Summer “freeze it” long enough for her to bring Sharp up to listen. But the reindeer character quickly became her favorite member of the cast, forcing Summer to fudge her translation a bit and invent lines for him.

Productive work aboard the Horizon ground to a halt, until the movie was finally complete. Summer shut off the tablet, plugging it back in to her makeshift charger.

“That was a fascinating bit of cultural exchange,” Sharp said, settling a notebook down in front of him. “I had no idea our worlds shared so much in common. You too have confronted hostile magic, and… found the usual solutions. Friendship and love, obviously. The more I learn about your world, the more I realize Kat-ate’s worries are lies. She wants all of Equestria for herself, when both of us would benefit so much from deeper ties.”

Do you mean our worlds, Sharp? Or us personally? She wasn’t brave enough to ask, not with Emerald close enough to hear. She knew exactly how the little pegasus would respond. Besides, there was a more important point. “This is…” She hesitated. “Movies aren’t real. I said that already—we watch them because they’re entertaining. And maybe they have lessons in them, but… none of those things actually happened.”

“Well yes, you said that,” Sharp said, straightening. “But myths are usually based on an underlying truth. Often the truth that inspired them is even more compelling than the myth that eventually resulted.”

She winced. “I don’t know how many times I can tell you this, but our world doesn’t have magic. I don’t know the history of this movie, but I’m pretty sure the myth that inspired it was Disney wanting money.”

“You look weird,” Emerald said. “But pretty. I liked the blue dresses.”

Sharp patted her gently on the head. “I know you think that, Summer. But I’m quite convinced that can’t be the case. Perhaps your world isn’t aware of magic. That isn’t uncommon for other creatures here in Equestria. Minotaurs, griffons, yaks… there are many creatures without any obvious magical abilities. Their talents are internal, and so subtle that they would never realize they existed without another creature to compare against. Maybe the magic of your race is… invention!” He gestured at the tablet. “Even Kat-ate shows enough of that, with what she’s done with Feather. You did, with your… what did you call it?”

“The jet engine?” She shook her head. “I didn’t invent that, I just translated known principles into something I thought we could make. Kate did the same with all of Feather’s stuff. Batteries and portable radios are all simple in our world.”

Sharp shrugged. “I still think it’s a good candidate for your innate abilities. And if you don’t believe me, consider this.” He reached down, pulling gently on the necklace she was wearing. “This artifact doesn’t work in a vacuum, Summer. It interacts with your natural magic, tying you to Equestria and showing you our language. It worked for Kat-ate, and it worked for you. There is some magic in there, even if you don’t know how to recognize it.”

She didn’t really have a way to argue with that. There were probably scientific reasons to explain everything she’d seen in Equestria. That old “it’s just technology you don’t understand” chestnut floated to the top of her mind more than once. But ultimately she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She’d seen and felt too much since coming here to know that.

“Do you have any more?” Emerald asked. “Movies. Like that one?”

“I…” She hesitated. “Might. I’ll need to see if I have anything you would like. That one was animation, and I only have a few like that downloaded. You probably wouldn’t like them.”

They ended up watching all of them by the time the trip was over, at least of the ones she had forgotten to delete. Unfortunately all she had were Finding Nemo, the first Pokémon movie, and Over the Hedge.

At least they weren’t enough to completely distract her flight crew and crash horribly.

After a week of travel, they crossed briefly out into the ocean again, before finally seeing signs that they were on the right track.

It was another airship, coming in their general direction from the south. This one was a zeppelin, at least four times the length of the Horizon and many times its volume. More importantly, there were creatures flying around it that weren’t ponies.

A bright blue and gold hippogriff separated from the airship, diving down towards the Horizon and landing on the deck a few feet from the helm. She wore a bright blue uniform, with a prominent wing symbol on the shoulders. “Hello!” she said, waving a wing enthusiastically in their direction. Mostly she seemed to be addressing Summer, though she wasn’t the one with a hoof on the controls.

“We can’t help but notice your airship is in distress. Unless it’s supposed to leave a trail of black smoke like that…”

“Yes!” she said, hurrying forward at Sharp’s nod. “Our engine was heavily damaged trying to… get through a storm! We’re running out of spare parts, and… really hoping we’re going the right way to Mt. Aris.”

“Been a long time from home, sister?” she asked, glancing at her neck. Her eyes widened as she saw it—or maybe when she failed to see it. Certainly she seemed very interested in the necklace. “Oh. This is more serious than I thought. Captain Sky Beak of the Cosmic Venture wanted me to offer our assistance. Our patrol is nearly over anyway—perhaps you’d like a tug?”

Summer hesitated, but this time Sharp didn’t. “Very much, miss! Frankly I’ve been growing concerned that we wouldn’t make it as it was. We’ve been trying to help Summer reach your kingdom, but we’ve encountered… a few setbacks. We have two rigging hooks along the bow, if you’d like to tow us.”

The hippogriff hesitated, then turned her attention on him. “I’ll fly back in a moment. You said this was the… Horizon? And what’s the captain’s name?”

“Sharp Edge,” Summer said, gesturing. “He’s taken me this far. I’m glad we’ll have a little help to make it the rest of the way.

“Well, I’m Cerulean,” she said, saluting with one foreleg. “Welcome to Aris airspace!” She took a running start, then plunged right off the back of the Horizon, soaring up in a dramatic arc another moment later.

“She seemed nice,” Emerald said, poking her head out from the doorway belowdecks. “Not like those guards at all.”

“Yeah,” Sharp said. “I’m convinced this is evidence that we have reached the end of Feather’s influence—or we’re about to willingly submit to boarders. Either way, not a lot we could do. That vessel is well-armed, and we’re… barely mobile.”

But they weren’t boarded, or taken into captivity. Cerulean and a few other birds flew back with a heavy rope, and soon enough they were moving again. The ship creaked and groaned at being towed, but she held together. Whenever Summer looked up she could see birds peeking out to watch them, but at least the sound of an engine trying very hard to explode finally stopped.

Distances that had taken them several days before now took only hours, and soon enough Mt. Aris itself was coming into view.

There was no mistaking it, even from a great distance. A rocky spire a little larger than the mountain that Canterlot was built on, surrounded by farms and with a thin strip of land leading out over the waves.

The sky was packed with traffic, most of which were airships many times larger than theirs. Even as she watched, a massive hulk settled down into place on a dock suspended in the air, and birds began unloading their cargo.

The water frothed around the cliff, with thousands of little multicolored specks visible for moments and then gone again.

“Woah…” Emerald whispered. “It’s so… tall.”

Like Canterlot, the mountain itself looked heavily engineered—massive wings of rock flared out over open ocean, probably millions of tons of stone held up by who knew what. The cliffs were battered and scarred, cracked away in places and burned in others. So they weren’t just there to keep the settlement safe from wind.

Their escorts brought them into the sky dock, with Cerulean flying back as they got close to help detach the cable. They drifted on the breeze the rest of the way, until they got close enough for Sharp to hop over the edge and fling mooring ropes over the waiting hooks.

They hadn’t even finished before an official-looking group of creatures appeared on the dock, wearing silvery armor over their blue uniforms and carrying rugged-looking crossbows.

Those aren’t toys, Summer thought, her eyes going wide as she scanned them. Was Kate right all along?

“Welcome to Mt. Aris,” said one, climbing up the ramp onto the ship. “You’re the Horizon, right? Captained by one… Sharp Edge?”

He stepped forward, nodding politely to them. His eyes too jumped to the weapons. “That would be me, and yes. Have we done something wrong?”

“Not at all. My name is Lieutenant Cloudhunter,” the hippogriff said. He extended a claw to shake Sharp’s hoof, but when Summer offered her claw, he bent down and kissed it respectfully instead. “The Queen was informed that an unusual ship had been assisted to port, captained by a pony and carrying a hippogriff unknown by name or covenant. She wishes to extend her personal welcome to you, and… any other creatures that may be aboard.”

He nodded slightly towards the stairs down, where Emerald poked up a moment later. She emerged, looking guilty, then hurried over to Sharp. None of the hippogriffs raised their weapons.

“Well?” Sharp said, glancing sidelong at her. “This is what we’re here for.”

“Yeah.” She glanced briefly back towards the ship. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to grab a few things the queen might want to see. Would that be alright?”

“By all means,” Cloudhunter said. “We’ll wait for you here. We’d give you more time to prepare, but… the Queen already cleared her schedule. It wouldn’t be wise to keep her waiting.”

Chapter 29: Beneath the Waves

Some part of Theo wondered if she should be worried about their unexpected invitation to visit the queen. Certainly it would’ve frightened her if she stepped off a plane during her first visit to the United States and had a few police officers show up to escort her to the president. But one sidelong glance at Sharp didn’t suggest any distress on his face. If it was weird to receive treatment like this, he didn’t show it.

They didn’t threaten us. They let us do whatever we wanted, let us stay together. They’re not hostile.

The other townspeople didn’t make it easy to assess whether this was normal or not. Everypony stared as they walked through town, though none of them seemed terribly hostile about it. More than a few hippogriffs waved in their direction, or exchanged greetings with the guards. They waved back, and continued on their way.

Eventually they reached the castle—not nearly as grand as the one in Equestria, it was far too practical for that. Instead it had thick walls, arrow-slit windows, and evidence of battle damage splattered across its face. These creatures haven’t lived in safety their whole lives. But who were they fighting?

“Welcome to Aris Peak Castle,” said Cloudhunter, as they passed inside. There were a handful of other guards scattered around, though they seemed to be mingling with the others passing through as much as watching them. Mostly the creatures in here looked like diplomats, merchants, and citizens. Nothing to worry about.

“So much water,” Emerald said, pointing with a wing at a massive glass display along the wall. It was an aquarium of incredible size, with living coral and tropical fish swimming on terraced layers of glass. It would’ve been impressive to see in an Earth building, but seeing it made by a species without acrylic and silicone glue… “Is it here because you’re magic?”

Cloudhunter didn’t seem annoyed with the question. “It’s because of our long attachment to the sea. Hippogriffs have been moving between worlds since long before the Storm King attacked. It’s a part of who we are, and we try to remember it even while we’re spending time on land.”

“Oh.”

“Is there… anything I should know before we talk to the queen?” Summer asked, her voice as low as she thought they could hear. No matter how quiet she tried to be they got looks. At least they didn’t seem angry and suspicious like in Sleighsburg. “I’ve never met a queen before.”

“Not much,” said one of the other soldiers. “Don’t lie, don’t try to steal. Queen Novo is a compassionate ruler. We’ve been expecting to meet strange hippogriffs from the north for a long time now. Equestria’s closer ties with Griffonstone meant it was only a matter of time.”

Summer turned that over in her head, sharing a brief glance with Sharp. But she didn’t correct the soldier’s misconception. She wasn’t here to talk to them, she was here to talk to the queen.

As they passed through an expansive hallway filled with barnacle-encrusted old sculptures, she ran through everything in her head one last time. I need whatever magic powers the doorway. I need the thing missing from this necklace. If they hate humans, I can make sure they know how I’m leaving and not coming back.

They stopped outside a set of massive stone doors, carved to vaguely resemble two halves of a clam spread wide. Here at least there were guards standing alert, watching them sternly as they approached. They stopped at the door, and Cloudhunter turned. “We’ll wait to be invited. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Will we, uh…” Sharp hesitated. “I’ve heard that your illustrious Queen Novo takes her audiences below the waves. Is that still the case?”

“Depends on the circumstances. But given this meeting is about Summer, keeping her dry just wouldn’t be…” He gestured with a claw. “It wouldn’t be right. Like keeping your daughter from the sky, or keeping you from, uh… ground things.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Apologies, I don’t fully understand the significance of pony tribes. I don’t mean to be insulting.”

Sharp shook his head. “No offense taken. I was just curious. Will my apprentice and I be allowed to accompany her?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “The Pearl’s magic works equally well on all creatures, you’ll see. Though the young pony is perfectly welcome to wait here if she desires. There have been a number of young creatures who never wanted to leave after experiencing the ocean. It may be kinder not to go.”

“I’m not leaving Summer,” Emerald said, wrapping her foreleg around Theo’s. “We came all the way from the top of the world to the bottom together. I wanna see the magic too!”

The door creaked, swinging open on a complex metal bracket. The royal audience chamber was built around a massive pool, easily larger than anything in the Olympics. A stone island perched in the center, a throne adorned with pearls and gold. A single creature rested nervously on the edge in an entirely unregal way, alone in the huge room.

She bounded forward through the air, landing on the ground on the edge of the pool with a flash that momentarily stung Summer’s eyes. It was like she couldn’t focus on her, and… no, she didn’t have a tail at all.

She was just a hippogriff like Summer, though she was taller and there was something strange about her mane. She bounded over to them, bits of jewelry on her forelegs and around her neck bouncing a little with each step. “Hi! You’re here to see the Queen, right? You’re our… first hippogriff from Equestria! And the noble ponies who took her to find her homeland. Am I getting that right?”

“Mostly,” Sharp said. “Summer’s story is more complicated than you think. But it would take a long time to tell, maybe we should tell you and the Queen at the same time. If it pleases you, uh… Princess…”

“Skystar,” she said, looking pleased at the title even if Sharp had been incredibly awkward about it. “Yeah, that makes sense! I’m not a fan of talking much up here, anyway. All this air really dries out my throat.”

She took a few steps towards Summer, and at once all of Theo’s misgivings vanished. This creature seemed to be about the same age, and didn’t even seem capable of not being friendly. She stopped only inches away, reaching one claw up and around the necklace. “This is… real old. How long have you had this?”

“Since Sharp gave it to me,” she answered. “Its magic is the only way I can understand you. My real language is… completely unpronounceable, isn’t that how you described it Sharp?”

He nodded. “I could explain where I discovered that in detail, of course. But perhaps that story should wait?”

Princess Skystar spun around suddenly. “Don’t think I can’t see through you. You’re just eager to see the court for yourself. Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I don’t blame you. In fact, you can go first.” She shoved suddenly on Sharp, taking him so by surprise that he went tumbling over the water. His outline blurred and twisted out of shape for a moment, but she didn’t get a good look. There was a splash from the water far below, then nothing.”

“And the little pony,” Skystar gestured. “Come on. It doesn’t hurt. Just don’t try to hold your breath. That can hurt, because there’s still some air in your lungs, and if you go down too deep it feels like it’s crushing you… yeah I’m just gonna drop you down too.”

Emerald squealed, then vanished down into the water. Summer heard a few sounds of struggling, then the splashes went still. And just like that, she was completely alone with the princess. “You’re the complicated one,” she said, circling around Summer. “That necklace, it didn’t have a pearl in it before? Like this…” She held up one bit of jewelry around her neck, focusing on the tiny white sphere. “Did you misplace this?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s just a language necklace, I’m positive.”

“Well… it’s a good thing for you that there are some hippogriffs who live on land. We didn’t have a custom for taking someone to the pearl for the first time until then. But now we’ve got birds hatching up here on land, and they need to get all the way down to the court to get their own little piece.”

She froze right in front of her, holding out her necklace so Summer could get a good look.

She tried to, anyway. The pearl itself seemed like it almost… wasn’t there. She wanted to see it, she knew there was something white and round right there, but she could see nothing more. She looked away, clutching at her stomach. Was the strange magic actually making her sick?

“You have to be you when you touch it,” she went on. “If I transform you, then it won’t see you. My mother hasn’t said so, but I know she’ll want you to have a piece like anyone else, even if you don’t stay with us. And if she doesn’t… I’ll convince her.” She pushed at Summer’s shoulder, making her slide along the stone floor towards the opening. “How good are you at holding your breath? Think you could do like… twenty minutes?”

Summer whimpered, shaking her head vigorously. “How about thirty seconds?”

Skystar giggled. “Just kidding. I’ll just bring you some air, come on!” She shoved again, pushing Theo all the way to the edge of the water. One of her hooves slid out over open air.

“Wait!” she squeaked, ducking sideways and struggling with her saddlebags. “The things I put in here only work on land, they’ll be broken if I bring them. Can I leave this… here?” She glanced towards the entrance, where Cloudhunter was still standing, watching sympathetically.

There was no time to second-guess. “Cloudhunter? Can you keep an eye on this for me?”

He nodded. “If it pleases the princess.”

Skystar nodded. “It pleases me to get her down there, I wanna see her face!” Even so, she waited until Theo had shaken herself free of the saddlebags. Only then did she tackle her over the edge, taking her down into the water.

Light flashed, and Theo was momentarily blinded. Then she struck the water, and immediately held her breath. She’d done this plenty since arriving here, she could swim for hours. Except that her face didn’t feel wet. Finally she opened her eyes, only to see that Skystar hadn’t been facetious—she really had brought her some air. A bubble clung around her with no visible support, its surface nearly clear. The water itself chilled her far more than any lake could. This was the icy breath of near-arctic cold, like she’d experienced whenever she braved the lakes and streams of home.

But that wasn’t anywhere close to the strangest part. If any part of her had doubted that Equestria was packed tight with real magic, now she saw the results firsthand.

The pool wasn’t as deep as she’d initially guessed, narrowing downward at the bottom like the neck of a funnel. That meant there was nowhere for the other creatures in the water with her to go, and she got a good firsthand look at them.

Sharp and Emerald were fish. The fur was gone, replaced with scales, and each had lost half their legs, replaced with fluked tails. Both looked about as awkward in the water as Theo had felt when she first arrived in Equestria, flopping about without much control over where they were going.

Skystar made them both look like children. She’d changed into a bigger fish, with a much slimmer and more elegant body. She also knew how to use that body, gliding through the water more gracefully than Emerald had ever managed in the sky.

“She’s still…” Sharp said. His voice was strange, with bass muted and the treble tones stretched. She could still make out his words so long as she concentrated. “Leggy. That doesn’t seem fair. We should all be awkward together.”

“I don’t think she’ll be awkward,” the princess said, circling Theo once before reaching briefly up over their heads. Something mechanical ground and shifted, and all at once the water started to move. Down. “She’s built for it, even if she’s never been in the water before. You’ll see.”

“I don’t think I… want to!” she squeaked. The water level was dropping all right, because they were plummeting down a drain. This wasn’t just a pool, it was also apparently the world’s largest water slide. Large enough for three weird fish and one weird bird to take it at the same time. “Can’t we talk to the queen in the air? I don’t really want to go down!”

“Too late!” Skystar said, her voice a cheerful giggle. She sounded as muted as Sharp had, though the effect was a little easier to hear from a female voice. “But I don’t think my mom would’ve wanted to come up here. She likes being dry even less than I do, that’s why we have consorts to rule over the… yeah.”

The Emerald-fish swam right up to Theo, circling around her curiously. She poked at her with one foreleg, which yielded strangely under the pressure. Does she not have bones anymore? That didn’t make sense—fish had bones!

When I get home, I will never be able to say a word about any of this.

“Besides, if she came up here, we wouldn’t be able to do this!” She reached up with her forelegs, as though they were about to go down over a roller coaster.

The drop wasn’t that sudden, but they were accelerating. The walls blurred past, taking them deeper and deeper. Theo had never been one to get claustrophobic, but even she was starting to feel uncomfortable. Was there an entire mountain over her head at this point?

Eventually the shaft spat them out. She kicked and squirmed, doing her best to slow her wild arcs through the water. But she wasn’t a fish, and she didn’t have a tail. Even her experience swimming could do only so much.

She smacked into something hard after traveling a little way, grunting under the pressure.

She sat up, kicking her way free of the ground. Every breath came slowly, as though the magic of it might run out—or worse, maybe the bubble would break away from her face. “Hello? Is anyone there? It’s so dark, I can’t see any of…”

Something glowed to life in front of her, a single point of light not far away. It came from Skystar’s mane, or what was almost a mane, exactly the same as a unicorn’s glow. “You’re heavy,” she said, apparently thoroughly amused by it. “You went further than your pony friends. Come on.” She gripped firmly onto Theo’s foreleg, dragging her back up, through what had been a nearly imperceptible opening in a cavernous rock.

“How much further is it to this… pearl thing?” she asked. “It feels like I don’t belong here.”

“Long enough for the air to last, I hope,” Skystar said. She had to drag Summer along, obviously unsatisfied with the swimming speed she could manage. “Only kidding! I used the same spell on the ponies when they came here begging for help, and there was minutes left by the time they got to the bottom.”

Summer gulped. “I don’t think that joke is very funny.”

It might not have been so bad if it wasn’t for the passage they were swimming through. A cave, or maybe a building so old that the ocean itself had risen up around it. At least Sharp and Emerald were waiting just up ahead, doing their best to swim.

“She’s not going to be like this the whole time, is she?” Sharp asked. “It doesn’t seem fair. Us, just being visitors, and her, belonging here and all…”

“No,” Skystar said. “She’s… you’ll see. It’s kind of a big deal, and she can’t be transformed when she does it.”

“Right,” Sharp said. Even as a fish, she recognized that familiar expression that said, ‘not like we can get away.’

At least Skystar was staying close. If the air spell did break somehow, she could always make another one. Right?

“How many hippogriffs can do, uh… magic? Like you did just now,” she asked. “Is it okay for me to ask?”

The princess giggled again. “If it wasn’t okay, it would be a little too late to take back your question.” She zoomed around Summer once, leaving a faint trail of shimmering bubbles in the water behind her. It seemed to light up when they moved, and not just her. Every stroke of a fin or her awkward kicks left a brief train in the near-absolute darkness. “It’s only in the royal family,” she said. “I don’t really know why, or how it works, but… my mother doesn’t like talking about it much.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We probably shouldn’t.”

Whatever Summer might’ve asked was completely silenced by what waited for them through another opening in the ceiling.

Even after the total darkness of the tunnel, it didn’t overwhelm her. The light was gentle, soft blues and purples that made her feel instantly at ease.

It was like swimming up out of a cave and into nature allowed to run wild—every delicate and beautiful type of coral grew in spectacular array, many so vibrant that they had their own light. Yet the cavern had a ceiling, there was no access to the sky to let it all grow. Instead, life seemed most concentrated towards the throne.

“Queen Novo,” called a voice from the side of the room. As muted as the others, though he was obviously trying to be heard. “Shepard of the seven seas, keeper of the four winds, and ruler of all Seaquestria!”

Chapter 30: Leaving a Piece

“You indulge too much in drama, daughter of mine,” said a distant voice, drifting in from somewhere far away. Summer couldn’t see where it came from—but with the distortion caused by her bubble-helmet, that wasn’t terribly unusual. Everything sounded strange and out of place.

A creature emerged from one of the curtains of glowing jellyfish fronds, somehow escaping without apparent chemical burns. Like one of them, except—longer, more elegant and beautiful. What they were to a child, this stranger looked to Skystar. She was also swimming right for her.

She circled around the three of them, slow strokes of tail and flicks of a fin, an occasional twirl through the water. “This is the one who comes to us from strange seas. Born of our allies, unknown until now. We’ve been expecting creatures like you.”

“Didn’t you just say I was too dramatic?” Skystar settled beside her. “It’s not nice to keep her like this, mother. Look at her. Soaked feathers, kicking and struggling like that. It’s like watching a wet kitten.”

They hardly seemed to notice the ponies, and for once Sharp didn’t seem bothered by that. He kept Emerald from wandering too far with an occasional touch, but otherwise stayed well back. Out of sight, where he wouldn’t attract attention until he was needed.

“You’re right.” She stopped swimming, right in front of Summer. “You’re from far away. Did ponies explain to you the importance of the Pearl? It’s so important that everything else can wait. Nothing matters more.”

“Th-they… they didn’t,” she squeaked. So quietly that the fish didn’t even seem to hear her.

“Well, it’s possible they aren’t aware. Currents know some of our own fish don’t. So I’ll tell you.” She gestured, and at her command the spectacular curtain of glowing filaments behind the throne reacted. It uncurled around something she couldn’t see, slowly stretching down towards them until something round settled there, something Theo couldn’t look at. She knew it was bright, she could feel the brightness against her coat. It warmed the water even to be brought closer to it. Yet she didn’t want to see the thing directly. Maybe couldn’t.

“There are many stories about how we found it, long ago. How it found us. But those don’t matter. All that matters is that the Pearl of Transformation isn’t just an artifact. Its magic works on all creatures, but not the same way. Your friends, those ponies—it transformed them. Yet, if they did what you’re about to do, nothing would happen. They can feel the spell, but not wield it. But when you touch it, that’s when you will tie yourself to the Pearl. Give a little of your land self to the sea, and receive a little bit of the sea in return.”

She leaned forward, tapping the necklace she was wearing. “Or did you never wonder what this was meant to hold? You’re dressed like an explorer, but the magic was exhausted this whole time.”

“Not completely,” Skystar offered casually. “She says the necklace is translating for her. Apparently her language is weird? I didn’t ask.”

“Interesting.” The queen looked her up and down, swimming in front of the Pearl. Summer relaxed instantly, no longer feeling that source of unplaceable sickness. The nausea fled, and her eyes would focus again. On the queen’s intense interest. “I’ve known dozens of griffons in my time, and plenty of ponies. Our language descends from a common root. How far did you fly from?”

“Very,” she said, glancing briefly back at Sharp. But the pony didn’t move, either to encourage her or to try and stop her. He flicked his tail, drifting a little closer. The message was obvious. ‘This is your secret.’ “Further than anyone else you’ve ever met, probably.”

The queen leaned closer, then shook her head. “We’re getting nowhere here. If I wanted to have this interrogation on the surface, maybe we could finish it. But shy and air-spell don’t mix. Besides, even if I was about to cast you into prison, I’d want you to claim your birthright first. Let’s just do that.” She swam up and over, looping around Summer until she was behind her. She settled one foreleg on her shoulder, pushing her forward through the water.

“These ceremonies aren’t usually so informal. When birds come from the surface, there’s a dozen of them at once, all prepared for ritual and ceremony. But it wouldn’t be fair to make you wait. Besides, your story interests me. I’m sure you’ll be able to resolve some of the rumors we’ve been hearing about Equestria. Or just enrich our library.”

Theo whimpered, kicking out with one of her hindlegs, trying to push further away from the pearl. It was no use—the queen’s powerful strokes were impossible to resist. She was getting closer and closer, to a heat that felt like it was boiling the water. Cooking her alive.

“It’s been ages since an older bird went through this,” Queen Novo said absently. “You can do it, strange newcomer. Reach out and take your birthright. Become a part of the sea.”

This isn’t a good idea this isn’t a good idea, this isn’t a good idea. It wasn’t just that the object apparently made her sick. But this was obviously powerful magic, much more than she should be tampering with. She didn’t want a piece of some alien sea stuck inside!

“I don’t think…” But she was too quiet, too fearful. She wasn’t speaking up over her bubble, or the queen just didn’t care. “I really shouldn’t.”

Summer would never know if it was the queen’s confident expression, Sharp’s sympathetic gaze, her desperate fear of running out of air, or the armed guards swimming at the edges of the room. There was an initial pain there, certainly, but something else as well. A distant familiarity, maybe even a longing.

Whatever her reason, she stopped fighting. The only way to escape from this thing was forward. She extended a claw to the pearl—and it passed through. The surface felt hard only for an instant, before it yielded under her grip. Her whole body exploded with pain, overwhelming every sense.

Her world was an ocean. She screamed, thrashed about on a sea of snow and ice. She saw figures far below, figures that she tried and failed to resolve into clear shapes. They were… a line of marching hunters, maybe, struggling forward with spears over their shoulders and fresh kill dragging behind them. Cold, desperate, hunted. Wolves chased after them, bears harried them. Some didn’t come back.

Then they were somewhere else. The snow lifted up in a great wave over her head, and came down as tropical water. Promise sworn, promise kept. A city grew beneath the waves. Coral settled along sculpted lines, as fish swam, and birds flew, and all were marked alike. They had a new home—they were different. But there was magic for them.

Suddenly she was choking. Summer took another breath, and it was as though nothing flowed into her lungs. Her eyes opened and she was back in the strange throne room. A glow faded around her, leaving her body strangely numb below the waist. She kicked and struggled against it, swearing desperately. “Can’t… can’t… breathe…”

“Daughter,” the Queen said, her voice carrying just a hint of annoyance. “You should’ve known she wouldn’t manage a form that could breathe air on her first try.”

Something popped, and water pressed up against her face. Summer whimpered, curling up on herself. She could feel the water pressing against her, bringing with it her inevitable death. She’d never see Earth again, she’d never speak to her family again. This was where she died.

She couldn’t just hold her breath forever, even if instinct demanded that she try. There was no chance of reaching the surface, no visible air—but the body demanded she try. She opened her mouth, took a breath, and relief swept down her throat. She exhaled moments later, and shuddered at the strange sensation. Liquid passed out her neck, bringing a relief, but cold against her skin that she’d never felt before. Cold where no cold ever ought to be.

“I’m…” She didn’t sound like she was speaking into a fishbowl anymore. She looked down, and somehow wasn’t surprised by what she saw there.

Summer Ray was a fish now, or a seapony, or whatever they were properly called. Larger than Sharp Edge, smaller than the other hippogriffs in the throne room, but similar in basic shape and color. She blushed, as she was reminded again of just how naked she was. This was back to having all her parts up front, like when she’d been human. There would be no pretending here.

It wasn’t only her body that was different. Her necklace still looked just as old, but something had appeared that hadn’t been there before. A pale stone, roughly round, with a faint glow to it whenever she looked. The necklace caressed it perfectly, as though it had always been there.

This is what I was missing, she thought, remembering the gateway. This is how we turn it on.

After everything she’d accomplished, after as far as she’d come, she had what she needed.

Now all she had to do was make it back.

“And now the ceremony is over.” Queen Novo flicked her tail a few times, gliding back across the room until she rested elegantly in the waiting throne. “Though if there are many more of you, we may need to make other arrangements.” She gestured expectantly. “Come forward and introduce yourself. Expect no leniency from my court beyond what you’ve been granted already.”

“She’s usually pretty lenient,” Skystar whispered, before darting up to the throne.

Summer did her best to obey, kicking and squirming and trying to lift herself into a vertical position in the water. Unfortunately it felt exactly like being changed into a hippogriff for the first time. All her instincts from her time in Equestria betrayed her, and her tail mostly flipped her around randomly. She squawked and started drifting the wrong way. “Sorry, sorry! I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

Something grabbed her out of the water, a universal, invisible pressure. She squirmed reflexively against it, but was powerless to break free. There was no one holding her, nothing to shove away.

The magic deposited her free-floating in the water at the base of the throne, where she would be looking up at the Queen and the princess. At least she was neutrally buoyant, so she didn’t start drifting up or down again. Summer concentrated on her fins, focusing on keeping them still. At least if she stayed put, she wouldn’t make more of a fool of herself.

“We’re going to begin with the questions that brought you here in the first place,” the Queen went on. “Captain Sky Beak, the one whose ship towed you here, said that an unknown hippogriff was discovered trying to reach us, with ponies aiding her. The two of you are welcome to swim forward, by the way. You aren’t the first ponies in my court.”

Sharp swam up to Summer’s side, with far more coordination than she had. He’d been a fish for an hour by now. “I think we met one of them. A pony named Applejack assisted us on our journey. She sends her regards.”

“Really? And if you’re friends of hers, then that greatly eases my tensions about this whole…” She dragged one fin through the water in front of her. “Encounter. The stories I’ve been hearing about Equestria in the last year almost made me second-guess revealing ourselves in the first place. Not that I… This conversation isn’t about that. I don’t expect you to speak ill of your nation, either of you. It would be wrong of me to ask.”

“Were those stories coming from…” Summer finally dared to speak, flicking forward a little through the water by reflex. She didn’t bump into the throne though, because Sharp gripped her with a foreleg, holding her still. “Your ambassador in Canterlot?”

The Queen’s casual demeanor hardened instantly, and she sat alert in her seat. “Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. You know something about it?”

She nodded.

Then she told them. It wasn’t like very long had passed—the memory of their unpleasant experience with Stratus Skyranger and her subsequent daring escape was still quite fresh on her mind. All the while Queen Novo listened without interruption, looking more disturbed by the moment.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said, as soon as Summer had finished sharing the story. “I don’t… Stratus has always been ambitious, that’s partly why I was so eager to be rid of him. But why would he want to see you locked away in a pony… insane asylum, you said? Currents encircling us know why he would think that was a good idea.”

“He was… afraid of where I came from,” she said. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to tell the truth—maybe it was that this strange ruler of a strange land had taken the time to visit personally with a potential new citizen from far away. But once she was talking, she couldn’t stop. “I’m not the child of a griffon and a pony, Queen Novo. I’m not from this world. I’ve come here from… much further. Traveled through a Doorway in the north. That’s where I met my pony friends here. Sharp Edge was studying the Doorway, just waiting for a creature to come through. That creature was me.”

An uncomfortable silence settled on the throne room. The queen’s face became unreadable, and she shared a glance with her daughter. For a moment it seemed like Summer had just released an unpleasant fart right in the middle of court, or at least that was how they reacted.

The throne room had a dozen different entrances and exits, and from all of them a guard or two appeared, wielding oversized tridents instead of crossbows.

The Queen cleared her throat, sitting up straighter in her seat. “You’re, uh… That isn’t something we talk about around here. Any of what you… what you mention.”

“I’m sorry,” Summer said, lowering her head. “I didn’t come here to insult you, or confront you with… things you don’t want to talk about. I just wanted to tell the truth. About where I came from.”

She didn’t look up, so she didn’t see how they reacted. The silence stretched longer and longer, until Skystar finally said, “She’s wearing the pearl around her neck, Mother. The stories can’t all be true.”

“No, I suppose they can’t.” The Queen tapped one fin on her throne, and the soldiers vanished back down their respective doorways. “Even if you told Stratus what you just told me… his reaction was inappropriate. He should’ve sent you directly to me. The fact that he didn’t send word of what you said is… uncomfortably strong evidence to support your story.”

“It’s all true!” Sharp Edge added, circling once around Summer. “Forgive me, Queen. But Summer Ray is telling you the truth. About where she came from, and how we met. I’ve been working in… that field… for the last four years. To be honest, I only recently realized the artifact she’s wearing came from ancient hippogriffs. Equestrian archeology lags considerably with the creations of other creatures.”

The Queen nodded. “You’ve done nothing wrong to share this information with us. Clearly we have much to consider. I will need to speak with the lore keepers about this. But… before any of that, I wish to know what you plan to do, Summer. Have you come to dwell with your… distant cousins? Did the Pearl call you here? What will you do?”

You’re giving me a choice? After the way everyone had reacted, she half expected to end this conversation with a trip to prison. But now it didn’t seem like that would happen after all. “I want to…” That wasn’t entirely true anymore. “I need to try and go back,” she said. “Maybe if I do, I can… stop my people from coming here.”

“I’m sure… there are many creatures in my realm who would appreciate that,” the Queen said. “But I would remind them, as I will remind you, that diplomacy with other nations is my role, not yours. And I will not banish any bird or fish from my realm on some… mission of self-sacrifice. The cause may be wise—I don’t know yet.”

She sat up, rubbing at her temple with one foreleg. “I’ve come to a decision. Summer Ray, stranger no longer, you’ve done a service to Seaquestria and all of Mount Aris by informing me of the… loyalties, of my appointed Ambassador. Given the gravity of what you know, I cannot be satisfied with this service alone. I require you to remain here for the next…” She shrugged. “Long enough to learn about your world, and those who live there. We’ll see you and your friends well cared-for in the meantime. And if there’s any reward we could offer in return…”

Summer almost refused, it seemed like the polite thing to do. But it wasn’t just her who needed the help. “Our airship needed to be towed here,” she said. “We’d be… really grateful for the resources and maybe some extra hooves to fix it. Even if we won’t be leaving again until… you’re finished with us.”

“If you want to leave at all,” Skystar added. “Lots of creatures don’t! There are some seaponies here now from Equestria, who stay even though they don’t have the magic to visit half the kingdom. You might stay too.”

Seaquestria isn’t what makes me want to stay here. She looked back at Sharp, who nodded approvingly.

“Of course,” the Queen said, waving a hoof. “So long as you remain on the island or below it, I’ll see you receive every resource you require. Or rather, my daughter will. You may be called to appear before me again, next time with the court in attendance. So prepare for that.”

“They’re not scary either,” Skystar said. “Maybe a little boring. You’ll do fine!” She swam right up to Summer, dragging her forward by a hoof. “You’re not going back to the surface right now, so don’t even ask. You and your pony friends are gonna see the kingdom, and you’re gonna like it.”

Chapter 31: And Made Ourselves Guests

Summer Ray swam through the vast open gateway to the seapony palace, feeling like any moment her strange dream would end and she’d wash up on the shore somewhere. Being in a strange world was one thing: obviously that was real, she saw the evidence all the time.

But being here in Seaquestria. Everything her senses told her seemed impossible. She swam through a kingdom of fish, with a tail of her own, surrounded by a crowd of other fish. Plainly impossible things, except that she was living them.

Summer had never been scuba diving before. If she had, she imagined that what she was experiencing now would’ve made diving feel shallow and detached. If only she had come with the right quality of camera, she could’ve made a documentary to make anything on the BBC look like it was shot in black and white.

The throne room had been enclosed, lit with bioluminescent jellyfish. The rest of the world was open.

Skystar took them through the streets of Seaquestria, a city built using all three dimensions instead of just two. In a world where “flight” was effortless even for young and inexperienced citizens, there was no reason not to layer shops and homes and public buildings. They’d been built mostly from stone, with sculpted coral and bioadhesive used to hold different sections together. Some structures even had windows, though she couldn’t have said how they made the glass underwater.

For every hippogriff, there were dozens of other sea creatures, in a staggering array of colors and shapes. They went about their lives along the side of structures, or blanketing parks, the way pigeons and squirrels might on a surface city. And of course, the pet dolphins.

After an exhausting tour through the city, the distant light of sun straining down from above finally began to shift towards the gloom, and Skystar took them to an attractive apartment building not far from the palace. “Whenever we get visitors from up above, we know they don’t get to bring anything,” she said. “So if there’s anything you need, you can use that shell on the wall to ask for it.”

She did an energetic loop through the water, grinning. “I’ll give you some space. If I tried to stay away from court for too much longer, my mom would probably send the guards or whatever to look for me, so… you ponies have fun! Maybe tomorrow we can go back to the surface and see what your airship needs. Well… I say ‘we’, but probably I won’t be allowed to leave court all day like always. So it’ll be someone else. But they’ll take care of you.”

“You’ve been more than kind,” Sharp said, nodding politely. “This visit has been everything we could’ve asked for. I’m sure Summer agrees.”

Summer nodded, lifting her necklace slightly in one hoof. Some part of her was still fixated on the Pearl, and whatever it might mean for her. But after everything she’d seen, how could she regret it? “I’m really grateful for everything. I just… I’m wondering if someone will help me use this thing? I assume this is how you make yourself back into a bird, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sky darted back across the room towards her, circling around her once and lifting up the necklace. “It doesn’t really matter what you put the pearl in, but make sure you don’t lose it. It’s happened a few times, and… you can’t ever get another one. So don’t let it get out of your sight. I don’t know if there’s an easy way to explain how it works… you just have to be near a transition, and concentrate on your memory of being different, and… you’ll change back. But probably don’t do it down here, since there’s an awful lot of water on top of us right now and lungs don’t like pressure that much.”

“Right.” Summer let go of the necklace, blushing. Skystar wasn’t wrong, she had been starting to try without realizing. Good thing she’d stopped her.

“And if your pony friends are touching you, they should change back too. Hopefully? Some birds are better at it than others. I’ve changed visitors so often now that I can even change them while staying the same myself, but… you shouldn’t try to get fancy until you’ve had it for a few years.”

She looped around through the water one last time, waving enthusiastically to them before drawing the door closed. It wasn’t much, a curtain of braided fabric of some kind. But most of the doors worked that way.

“Well if this wasn’t a day for the diary,” Sharp said, stretching across the top of a chair. It was softly padded with textured seaweed, and just like everything else in the room was secured to the floor with metal ties around the base to stop it from drifting. “Or it would be, if I kept a diary.”

Summer did a little better swimming over to him, though she still hadn’t mastered fine control in the water. Emerald, as always, had taken to the transformation the easiest. As she’d explained, “It’s just like flying!”

“Do you think my camera would be able to take pictures down here?” Emerald asked, stopping in the water just in front of her. “There are some ponies back home who… they’d never believe it without a picture.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s splash proof, but… we’re down pretty deep. Once it gets really wet, it will never work again. And I don’t have any other ones, so… I think you’ll have to settle for telling them about it.”

“Not like we’re ever going back there anyway,” Emerald said, her voice a little distant, pained. “Sleighsburg hates us.”

“Not you,” Sharp said, patting her gently on the head. “I’m sure if you did want to return, one of your relatives would be happy to take you. Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

She shook her head. “If Mom was still there…” She sniffed, settling down onto the other side of the couch. “But she’s not. I’d rather stay with you, master. And Summer…” Her voice cracked again. “You told the Queen you were going home. Is that still what you want to do? Go back to… the place you’re from?”

“Austria,” she supplied, knowing full well it wouldn’t translate. “It’s what I should do, Emerald. This place…” She flicked her tail, drifting towards the window. There was nothing there to separate the inside of the apartment from the outside, and it was easily large enough for fish to pass freely in and out, nibbling at the algae on the walls or at each other.

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t belong here.”

“The Pearl of Transformation says otherwise,” Sharp said. “I may not be an expert of the artifacts of other creatures, but didn’t Queen Novo say that it didn’t respond to other creatures? That a pony could’ve used it without effect. But it responded to you.

It spoke to me.

She wasn’t sure if that was the right word, though she had a hard time describing it as any other. She considered telling Sharp about what she’d seen, the vision or memory, or… she wasn’t sure anymore. At least the Pearl and its pieces no longer made her sick. “Maybe belong was the wrong thing to say,” she eventually admitted. “I like it here, Emerald. I like you, and Sharp, and… everything we’ve done so far. It feels like a dream sometimes, and any minute I’m going to wake up. I’ll get dragged back to the world I came from. But my family is there. Everything I studied… it’s all worthless here. Probably will be as long as I live. I have to go back.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. At least it wasn’t as tense as in the throne room. No one here wanted to arrest her. Finally Sharp cleared his throat. “You made an offer when we were still in Sleighsburg, to let me come with you. I assume that’s still good? I’d like to see the world you came from for myself. A world that can create such amazing things. That sends… joys and terrors to Equestria.”

“I…” How could she say no? He’d sacrificed everything for her. “You can come, Sharp. But you might not like me when I change back. Once I’m human again… I don’t know if our relationship will work.”

He shrugged. “That’s a bridge to cross on the other side of the Doorway, not here. And… I think Queen Novo doesn’t seem interested to leave the decision to us. I assume there are important figures on your side of the door, princesses and rulers who make these kinds of decisions. They’ll be the ones to decide what relationship Equestria has with your world.”

“They…” She winced at the idea of some of the more prominent world leaders of her day making a trip here. Though there would be something smugly satisfying about seeing them transformed into little birds like her. “Yes, we have them. Most big places in my world run on a different system than Equestria. The old monarchies are being replaced with democracies. And even places that still have kings and queens, they’re mostly ceremonial. You’d get a visit from a president, or a prime minister. Probably the former, since the doorway on my side is in a country called the United States, and they have…”

She rose from the couch, shaking her head. “I don’t want to think about it. I’ll just start feeling guilty again that I can’t stop it.”

“Why would you want to?” Emerald asked, following her. “Do you want to… shut the door? Not let any others through?”

Yes. But that wasn’t an easy thing to admit. How different was she from Kate if she started acting like she had the authority to make decisions for a whole planet? “I like your world the way it is,” she said. “It’s going to be hard to explain, but where I’m from, we have examples of what happens when a big strong country runs into a smaller, weaker one.”

“You shouldn’t be worried,” Sharp said. How had he gotten behind her? Somehow his hug translated just fine, even though they were both missing limbs. “Equestria’s a kind place, Summer. The princesses would never hurt the place you’re from.”

She stiffened, stifling a laugh. She almost told him about the sort of powers that might come up against Equestria, if diplomacy went south. Not religious determinations that the sun could be moved, but the bombs and tanks and terrible weapons.

But even she had a hard time imagining that. Equestria was too perfect, and even speaking about that would taint it somehow. “I’m sure the president will be happy to hear that,” she said instead. “And maybe… maybe I’ll be the one to tell him. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be able to just slip back into work and pretend nothing happened, like I planned at first. I’ve been gone for almost two months now, and you can’t survive in the cold like that. I’ve probably been declared dead. My parents think I froze to death. They might’ve had a funeral…”

She settled on the apartment floor, which had started as smooth stone but was now covered with a thin layer of barnacles and other sea life. Apparently that wasn’t considered dirty, because Skystar had been proud of the place when they first swam in.

“All the more reason to let me come with you,” Sharp said, resting a foreleg on her shoulder. “We’re your friends, Summer. You shouldn’t have to face it alone.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “It’ll be really dangerous. We might not… it might be hard to get back again. There’s a chance they’ll be fighting us on that side, just like Feather fought us here.”

“I’m coming too!” Emerald said, settling into her lap. “I know Master Sharp won’t want me to, but that doesn’t matter. I’m his apprentice now, it’s my right. And if you might be in danger on that side, then… you’ll want as many friends as you can get!”

How could she refuse? “Sure, Emerald,” she said, before she could let the guilt weigh her down too much. “I’m not sure you’ll enjoy it much, but… I guess it would be wrong to keep you here waiting too. If Sharp goes, you can go.”

We still might not make it. Portal might not open for us. At least if she made it all the way up there, and she couldn’t get home, then she wouldn’t have to live out the rest of her life in guilt. She needed to do her due diligence. Maybe that would lead to her being able to present Equestria to the world under her own terms. Terms that would see it protected, instead of exploited.

Or maybe she’d drown in the ocean somewhere.

“I will say, I hope they have accommodations on the surface,” Sharp went on. “Seeing this city is a wonder. But I’m beginning to wonder how they deal with being fish all the time.”

“It’s growing on me,” Summer answered, without thinking. “It was disorienting at first, but… now it’s not so bad.”

Sharp folded his forelegs, grumbling. “Well, there’s… the libraries to investigate tomorrow, anyway. I’m interested to see how they manage keeping knowledge without paper. I’d be a fool not to investigate the origin of the Doorway and your contact with our world in the library of the ones who built it. After that… I think I’ll catch my breath. So to speak.”

Summer slept uneasily beneath the waves. It wasn’t just that every slight disturbance awakened some long-strangled aspect of her gag reflex, and she would cough and splutter for a moment before realizing that she could still breathe just fine. But while she slept, Summer played back the strange things she’d seen when she came into contact with the Pearl.

Snowy waves crashed down over frozen wastelands, and ancient hunters in leather and fur were swept up into the aurora. Some part of her wondered on their relation, but of course there were none left to ask.

She stirred groggily from her bed of seaweed and algae-covered rocks, shaking herself awake and trying to make sense of her surroundings. The little apartment had its own bedrooms for each of them, the most privacy she’d had since base. The Horizon didn’t have the luxury of private rooms, even if Sharp had yielded the bed to her and Emerald.

Maybe I’m just having a hard time sleeping alone. It didn’t seem to be something ponies did very often, and now that she had to do it too, it wore on her.

Of course, underwater life meant some things were different. There was no shower in the bathroom, just a brush and a gritty paste that was probably meant to act like soap. No sink either, and no beverages anywhere for that matter. Probably isn’t the right time to start obsessing over the biology of saltwater creatures.

A stranger thought crossed her mind as she scrubbed down with the brush, holding herself in place with an occasional flick of a fin. What would happen if she brought the necklace back with her to Earth? She’d have to, if Sharp and Emerald were coming. She was learning more and more of their language every day, but was still limited to common phrases and other “tourist” type stuff. There was no way she’d be fluent before they got back to the North.

Assuming Kate didn’t have better assassins waiting for them on the return trip. She doesn’t have to scour the ocean to find us. She’ll be waiting at the door. She knows where I’m going.

Summer could hope that Kate had given up on them, of course. Or maybe she just didn’t have the resources to send a kill-team into an arctic wasteland.

I don’t have to go.

It would be easier to justify a few months more in Equestria if it wasn’t for the timeline. The Aurora Observation Experiment would run its course, and any chance of returning home would go with it. Maybe not going back is how we keep our worlds separate. If the experiment ends and I’m not back, they’ll never connect the two. It was just a freak storm that happened while I was servicing it. Not even related.

She wasn’t prepared to give up just yet. I’m not ready to never see my family again. Even if I was going to stay here, I’d want to say goodbye.

Finally she swam back into the common room, letting the momentum of her first few strokes carry her towards the kitchen. Sharp and Emerald were already there, struggling to prepare what passed for seapony food.

There was a closed box of fresh… something. It looked a little like fruit, along with thin cuts of fish wrapped in a salty-smelling leaf.

“You’re awake!” Sharp called. “Now you see us butting heads against the biological realities of an underwater life. Look upon the powerful reasons to return to the surface, whatever… this is.”

Emerald wrinkled her nose. “This range is really weird. You put the stuff into this part here, and it heats up the water… but it’s heating up the whole room.”

“We’ll get it,” Sharp said. “It’s heat transfer. Obviously there’s something simple to let us isolate both sections.”

Summer poked her head over Emerald’s shoulder, staring down. The range included two metal containers, one significantly larger than the other. She squinted at them, then noticed what her companions hadn’t. “There are seals along the bottom. I think we need to… clip the big one in there.”

“Right, right!” Sharp snapped the waiting clips into place. “That does make sense.”

“We could just go out for food,” Emerald said. “Dinner last night was pretty nice.”

“We don’t have the princess with us,” Sharp said. “I don’t think she left us with their currency. We’ll have to do an exchange next time we’re on the surface. Let’s just finish breakfast, and… Summer, are you interested in joining me for a trip to the library?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I want to know their history on Earth as much as you do. I have a hunch that… I might know why none of the birds want to talk about it.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, though she didn’t think anyone would be listening. Even if their window was just a big opening to the rest of the city. “I think maybe birds settled in my world? Or maybe humans settled here? One of the two. Whatever it is, they don’t want to think about it. We’ll have to be… tactful. So we don’t scare them away.”

She settled down into a sitting position behind the counter, nodding to herself. “I don’t want them to stop me from going home. Even if…” But she couldn’t say it. It would be cruel to torment Sharp with hope that Summer herself wasn’t even sure about. “We don’t know if we can make the doorway work yet.” She said instead.

It was a convincing lie.

Chapter 32: In Someone Else's Home

Agent Barton walked calmly through the halls of Barrow Observatory, his ears alert to everything happening around him. The base normally had only a few people during winters, a crew that he could’ve counted on one hand. Thanks to his agency, there were now two hundred people. They passed him in the halls, hurrying along with lab coats or pushing carts of supplies. Department of Defense dollars had turned this modest observatory into something that scientists stationed elsewhere could envy.

Assuming any more civilians ever got stationed here.

His radio hissed and vibrated again, and he took another glance down at the screen. The same message as before. “Supervising Officer needed urgently in command.” Barton strode forward at a brisk pace, not quite a run. They didn’t pay him well enough to run.

They hadn’t removed the original crew. They could take no chances about what had caused the events of Theodor’s disappearance, even something completely unrelated like the piercings of the janitor mopping a floor two levels down.

The new command building was in what had been a stretch of open snowpack, as far from the experimental tower as one could be and still attach to the same buildings. It was a temporary structure, assembled from a half dozen shipping containers all sealed together. Even with the portable reactor running all the time, it was always just a little too cold for comfort.

Agent Barton shivered once, adjusting his jacket as he stepped inside. Men and women stopped what they were doing as he passed, saluting or just waiting respectfully for him to go first. He nodded in response to each one. These were good people, doing good work. He wasn’t about to take their contributions for granted.

A pair of uniformed marines stood outside at all times. One took his badge into an electronic scanner, before returning it a second later as the door hissed open with compressed air.

A wave of voices struck into Barton as he made his way inside. He tried to evaluate the emotional tone of the room in just a few moments. There was a great deal of nervous fear, joined with something else. Eagerness?

Computers rang the outside of the room, perhaps a dozen technicians manning them at any one time. The center had a single large flat screen mounted at table-level, projecting real time information from the tower. His eyes widened as he saw what was reflected there. Current power consumption, 25 megawatts.

“Dr. Bennett,” he said, tapping two fingers on the glass. “I’m sure you have an interesting story for me this morning.” He glanced to the side. “Is Foster here with my coffee yet?”

He didn’t see her—she wasn’t paid well enough to run either.

“Interesting is one way to describe it,” Dr. Bennett said, holding a dozen different printouts in his arms, all overlapping and confused together. “You wouldn’t… believe.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d believe many things, Doctor. Be succinct, please.”

The scientist reached down to the table, manipulating the controls. He switched on the speakers, which filled the room with hissing static for a few seconds, silencing everyone.

“That’s it?” Agent Barton raised an eyebrow. “I hope there’s more.”

“Naturally,” Dr. Bennett said. “At first, we thought it was… environmental static, though it was unusually centralized around the tower. So we ran a de-noising algorithm.”

The fluffy lines of nonsense resolved with one Fourier transform after another into a series of short and long pulses. Dr. Bennett pressed play again, filling the room with the distinctive dash-dot-dash of Morse code. Or something so similar as to be indistinguishable.

“It only lasted for a few moments at first,” Dr. Bennett said. “I wasn’t sure… if we would lose it. So we recreated the conditions of the initial experiment. We’ve been running it continuously for the last hour.”

Now that he knew what to look for, Barton moved one hand rapidly through the controls, searching for the transcript of what they’d received. Someone had already translated it back into Roman characters. English words.

“No bullshit?” he asked, tapping the transcript again. “No one creatively interpreted this?”

“It’s real,” one of the technicians said. “There are a few spelling errors, but otherwise it looks good.”

“English wasn’t his first language,” Agent Barton muttered.

‘IF ANYONE IS LISTENING ON THE OTHER SIDE EXTREME DANGER STOP THIS REALM IS EXTREMELY HOSTILE STOP DISMANTLE THE AURORA EXPERIMENT IMMIDIATELY STOP CANNOT LET THEM THROUGH STOP MUST PROTECT THE EARTH STOP TELL MY FAMILY I LOVE THEM STOP’

Someone thrust a cup of coffee into his hand. He took it, grinning up at Agent Foster. “You’re just in time for the fireworks.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been up for hours, Barton. You should leave your radio on.”

He took a nice long sip from the insulated mug. “Maybe. This constant twilight is wreaking havoc on my internal clock. I need some sunlight.”

She ignored him. “From the look of it, our missing kid’s equipment stopped working months ago. He must’ve worked up a transmitter of some kind. Spark gap by the look of that signal, real dirty. Don’t know how he’s powering it.”

“Very self-sacrificing,” he agreed, looking back to Dr. Bennett. “Has anyone tried to say anything to him?”

The man looked annoyed. “We were waiting for your approval. He’s been sending that same message, with little errors and variations each time. Probably doing it by hand.

“We have a bridge,” he muttered, awed. “I need to call the Pentagon. First, though… ask him what’s so dangerous. If it’s so bad we should dismantle the observatory, how is he alive after months alone in the snow?”

“Even if he has a receiver, it’s probably shit,” the technician said. “We need something short and simple.”

“Right.” Agent Barton cleared his throat. “Say: ‘MESSAGE RECEIVED STOP EXPLAIN DANGER STOP’. Get that repeating for a few minutes and see what happens.”

While they rushed to obey, Barton made his way to the window, where he could look up across the base at the observatory tower. It looked strange in the perpetual twilight, as though the greens and purples of the aurora borealis had been draped around it. Their own massive power cables now ran up the tower, hissing and steaming with the incredible volume of energy they were pumping out.

Apparently into nothing. Even as someone who knew nothing about the work these people were doing, it didn’t feel right that 25 megawatts could be pumped into something for an hour and have anything other than melted metal.

He sipped at his coffee, feeling a little more human with every sip. Foster followed him over, voice a whisper. “What do you think?”

He shook his head. “We’re missing something. Maybe something he isn’t telling. I don’t know many civvies who would open with ‘take apart the experiment that could get me home.’ How about ‘send me supplies so I can build it on this side?’ or ‘Help me open it all the way.’ Last we checked, we don’t even know what’s creating the door on the other side, do we?”

She shook her head. “Dr. Bennett has hypothesized something about natural structures that might do something similar. Maybe large metallic formations that could briefly open during a lightning storm on the other side.”

“The ‘Back to the Future’ solution.” He rolled his eyes, finally draining his mug. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll probably need another after talking to the Pentagon.”

She grinned. “I put another pot on for you, partner. You can get it yourself.”

“We’re getting a response!” the technician yelled. “This signal is different! Parsing it now…”

The room filled with hissing static, which resolved into an orderly series of beeps. Agent Barton couldn’t quite translate it by ear, though of course he didn’t have to. The computer was doing that, reading in a mechanical, synthesized voice. “UNKNOWN BIOAGENT STOP CHANGED ME LIKELY TO BE FATAL STOP IMMIDIATELY CONTAGEOUS AND IRRIVERSIBLE STOP”

The words rang through the control room, which went eerily silent other than the cooling fans of their many computers. Barton quietly removed his phone, flipping through to the scan of the strange photograph that had turned this from an empty waste of tax dollars into a real investigation. There were the three not-animals, obviously posing together. They were in a cave, a cave with distinctly mechanical suggestions on the ceiling. They don’t look like they’re dying of space Ebola to me.

He flipped the phone off, walking back to the control panel. “Anything else?”

“No,” the technician said, a moment later. “Message is repeating, just like before. A few little errors, but it’s the same one.”

You’re not being honest with me, Theo. What are you hiding? Whatever it was, he had no doubt that powers greater than himself would be making the decision about what to do. Maybe Theo would get his way, and he would get to die a martyr to protect Earth from dangers it had never understood. Or maybe more ambitious minds would prevail, and they wouldn’t put this discovery to waste.

“I have a new message for you,” he said, breaking the silence. “Send: ‘PLEASE STAY NEAR YOUR RADIO STOP’. I don’t want any other messages going through until I’ve had a word with command. None of us have the authority to decide what to do here.”

He turned to go, ignoring their protests. “Text me if we get anything else from his side.” But that’s an assumption too. We don’t know that’s really Theo Pichler over there. But if it wasn’t their missing computer programmer, who knew how to send Morse code? Who knew English?

He found an empty room, checked it to be sure it was secure, then made his call. He shared everything they knew, along with his own feelings on what they were getting. That was the entire point of keeping someone like him on the ground, after all. He had a good gut for these things.

After an hour, he returned to the control room, feeling as though he’d been gone for days. There was no change at all to the energy of the place, with technicians still working furiously at their stations, exchanging notes and muttering to each other about their observations of the bridge.

“Was it just the one message?” he asked, tossing his phone up and down as he walked. “Just the ‘Can’t stay long’ thing?”

“Yes.” Dr. Bennett was the first to answer. He’d swapped out his massive piles of printouts for a single tablet computer. “And I’m fairly certain our contact is still there on the other end, even if he isn’t repeating the message any longer. It’s the bridge itself—we’re getting feedback from that side. I believe something on that side is helping to… hold it open, if you like. Only with the active expenditure of energy on both ends can we have this conversation. Even now, we’ve only opened it wide enough to exchange radio transmissions. Based on these numbers, we’ll need an order of magnitude more energy to make something wide enough for a human to pass through.”

“That sounds… ridiculous,” Agent Foster said, glancing over his shoulder at his tablet. “Isn’t that the kind of power a whole town uses? I’ve climbed that tower—everything on it would explode if we ran that much power through it.”

“It’s not going into the tower,” the nearest technician said. An older woman this time, behind a pair of thick glasses. “I can’t explain it, but we’re reading consumption of about ten kilowatts from the array. The rest of that energy is going somewhere else. Not on base, satellite doesn’t have anywhere that hot.”

Agent Barton followed her gesture to the screen on her station, showing Barrow from high above. There was a little patch of heat from the tower, consistent with ten kilowatts or so of energy use.

“Well it’s a good thing we’ve got more,” Barton said. “Because our goal hasn’t changed. We’re getting that door open, no matter how much of a martyr our scientist wants to make himself.”

Agent Foster turned, raising an eyebrow. “What about everything he said about the bioagent? The… evidence we saw?” Many in this room didn’t know about the photograph, and that wasn’t about to change now.

“We’ll be taking those threats seriously. Utqiaġvik is being evacuated. As of this moment, this facility is in quarantine.” He held up his phone. “The boys back in Psych have some questions we’re supposed to ask. We’re going to keep him on the line, stay with me…”

Summer swam to the edge of the water, staring up at the underside. In its way, it was a sheet of reflective glass, and the world on the other side was one she could barely understand. It was where she belonged, yet she couldn’t shake the fear that she wouldn’t be able to pass through it safely. It was certainly quite a nightmare. There was no way to change back, she’d be cursed to stay in the ocean forever. Seaquestria was beautiful, certainly. But it would be her prison.

“Have no fear, we were expecting this,” said a voice just behind her. It was Cloudhunter, the creature who had arrived to escort them back to the surface just that morning. Considering he was one of the only familiar faces on Mt. Aris, Summer was happy to see him.

It was time to get the Horizon repaired, and Sharp wouldn’t hear of having the repairs done without him. “Don’t know how to use the pearl yet, I take it?”

Summer was the only bird in the group beside Cloudhunter, so it wasn’t hard to figure out he was talking about her. She nodded. “I don’t,” she admitted. “I’ve thought about it since yesterday, but there wasn’t a chance to practice. There was an awful lot of water down in the city, and I like not drowning.”

Cloudhunter shrugged. “Well, that’s why I’m here. One of the reasons it was me over any other bird. I used to teach a class on the pearl’s magic to hatchlings after they made their way under for the first time. I know all the tricks.” He gestured along the bottom of the water, where a ramp had been cut from the rock. A thin layer of slimy green seaweed grew there, with little shells and bits of coral stuck to it. “Put your forelegs on that, and try to feel heavy. The pearl’s magic isn’t like a unicorn’s spell. There’s no calculation and memorization, or anything like that. It’s about feeling your connection to the ocean, or letting go of it. Take back the sky, and walk back out.”

Take back the sky. She settled her fins on the mossy ground one at a time, though of course she only had her forelegs, so her tail just trailed through the water behind her. At least she wasn’t alone.

“You can do it, Summer!” Emerald called, circling around her. “I, uh… they’re going to let us out too, right?”

“Yes, yes.” Cloudhunter waved a dismissive fin through the water. “Just wait until your friend is up there. I’ll bring you both. She’s not ready to take other creatures yet.”

Theo closed her eyes, pressing down with one hoof and pushing herself through the water. Sound echoed against the ceiling above her, as though she were in a strangely acoustic room. She could hear distant waves lapping against the shore, and voices from the other side of the ramp. There were dozens of birds up there, probably a little annoyed that she was stopping traffic. But she couldn’t feel guilty on their account.

She took another step forward, trying to do what the officer had said. Focus on her connection to land, what even was that? Until her time in Equestria, she wouldn’t have considered herself connected to anything. Maybe her work with computers, if she had to name something. But what even was land?

It’s a little late to doubt their way of doing things now. The ponies might have a strange religion that didn’t make sense to her, but she’d seen that pearl. She had fins right now, when she’d been a shy computer programmer only a few months before. Everything about her life was different. And Sharp was watching her. He was probably getting a pretty good view of her tail from back there.

The embarrassment did it. She hurried forward, feeling as though she could walk right up the slope and out into the air. Somehow, she did. Her head crested the water, and she took her first breath of air. Damp wings settled against her sides just as her hindlegs touched down on the ramp behind her, and she emerged onto a slope covered in rubber mats and up onto a bustling peer.

There were restaurants nearby radiating the mouthwatering smell of roasted fish. Real fish this time too, not the awful canned stuff Sharp had fed her. Further along, she could hear music coming from a streetside musician, and the shouts of birds buying and selling.

The first thing she did was get out of the way, shaking herself out with every step. It didn’t seem that bad, even if she’d been in the water for over a day. Far from getting wrinkled and pruned, her body seemed like an ocean bird, shedding the water effortlessly around her as she moved. The air was fiercely chilly—no mystery about that, considering how far south they’d come. But her feathers worked just as well wet as they did dry. Maybe better.

A few seconds later, she saw a few more creatures break the water. Their steps came with a burst of light, and then there were three creatures standing there. Emerald coughed and spluttered, hacking out mouthfuls of sea water and sticking out her tongue in disgust. Sharp did a little better, though he instantly started shivering. I’m built for this, and they aren’t. I’m actually at home here.

Still, they were in full sun, so at least they wouldn’t stay cold for long.

“Take it slow, you two,” Cloudhunter said, staying within reach. For good reason—Emerald started slipping back down the ramp, as though her back legs had just stopped working. He caught her, dragging her forward along the rubber mat until she was on flat ground. “Other creatures don’t do as well being changed back and forth, so there’s a bit of recovery time. Just take things nice and slow, and it’ll come back.”

He lowered his voice, tone becoming deadly serious. He looked to her while he said it. “There’s good reason why the Queen usually only takes formal visits under there. Foreigners aren’t built to change back and forth like we are. If they stay in the water for too long, the magic of the pearl won’t work to change them back.”

“That sounds… dreadfully serious,” Sharp said, leaning to one side and spitting into the ocean. He didn’t fall over like Emerald had done, but he was flush with earth pony strength. They were sturdier creatures than their flying cousins by far. “How long is it safe for us to visit before needing to worry about that?”

Cloudhunter shrugged one shoulder. “I believe the Queen instructed me not to bring you back tonight. If I know her, you won’t be returning for the remainder of your visit. Of course, there are no laws preventing your friend from assisting you… but I doubt she’ll be able. Limit yourself to a day at a time, and you’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Sharp glanced over his shoulder again, then met her eyes. His ears flattened with embarrassment, and he looked away.

You were looking at my tail!

“Right,” he said, almost as though he could hear her thoughts. “We’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant Cloudhunter. But now… I believe we have a ship to repair. Is the queen’s offer to help us still good?”

“Of course,” he said, gesturing down the street. It wasn’t far before the road twisted sharply, leading up a precariously narrow set of switchbacks along the side of the mountain. Mt. Aris, Summer guessed. “Seaquestria is nothing but generous to all her visitors. And if we weren’t, stranding you here without a functioning vessel would be no way to maintain our privacy. There should already be a team of engineers waiting for us. Let’s meet them. Given you can’t fly, we’ll have to hike.”

“Unless you’d prefer to wait for me at the top,” Sharp said, glancing between Summer and Emerald. There was a little humor in his eye, just daring her.

You know I can’t fly, jerk. But she wasn’t that upset about it. Just more determined to learn. “No, we’ll walk with you,” Summer said, before the others could say anything. She slid in beside him, getting him as wet as possible. Except that she was already drying out, and his fur was still soaked, so she was the one who got wet.

He grinned back, apparently realizing the mistake she’d just made, but not trying to pull away. “Up we go, then. Let’s fix that ship.”

Chapter 33: Where We Tried New Things

Author's Notes:

I've got an apology to make on this chapter.

For those of you who know how my production process works, I write things a month in advance in order to handle all the stories I update. But that involves considerable complexity with editing and sometimes I make mistakes.

This is the biggest mistake I've ever made with something like this: an entire chapter got missed. I thought about just continuing the story without this, but I felt like it robbed Summer of some of her time at Mt. Aris and took away necessary context. I'm sorry for altering the chronology like this, though obviously it won't contradict anything since it was meant to be chapter 33 to begin with.

Sorry again for being a dumbohead.

It was quite a hike to the peak, up what felt like thousands of grinding steps. At least they had the comfortably cool mountain breeze around them as they walked, along with an incredible view.

It wasn’t just rising switchbacks as she’d initially thought, but a series of farms and meadows taking them all the way to the top. No small wonder why there’d been so much civilization at the bottom of the mountain, with a climb like this waiting for anyone who wanted to go any further. Summer had felt plenty brave about it for the first mile or so, but her own limbs had their limits.

“I take it flying would be easier?” she asked, panting. “You don’t have, like… gondolas?”

“Anything that would make the valley harder to defend would be an unacceptable risk,” Cloudhunter said. He looked sympathetic, though not nearly as weak himself. Sharp was an earth pony, so he didn’t even seem winded. And Emerald was gliding. “Sure, Aris is safe now. But it wasn’t always, and won’t remain so forever. Infrastructure like that would make the peak easier to besiege.”

“Are you attacked that often?” Sharp asked, raising an eyebrow. “Equestria’s seen its fair share of dangers, but actual war? I thought the Storm King was… an anomaly.”

Cloudhunter shook his head, watching with an expression of—not anger exactly? Pity? No, he expected this reaction from outsiders. “Equestria has Alicorns to protect it, and you’ve remained safe for as long as any of you remember. We don’t have your diversity of tribes or incredible powers. And the further from Equestria you go, the less creatures are frightened by Equestria’s rulers. They know your princess will let them invade us all they like.”

He twisted to one side, exposing the weapon he was wearing there. An incredibly complex crossbow, with various gears and lines. More impressively, it didn’t seem even a little worn from being in the water. Maybe that’s what the lever is for. Different mode when it’s underwater. “Aris wasn’t our first home. There are many old songs about the homes we once had, and the birds we lost as we moved from place to place until we found this one. We were nomads, once. You seem like you’re a nomad yourself, Summer Ray.”

She blushed. “Guess I am. And we will be again, once you get the ship working. We—” But she stopped short of explaining it. The Queen hadn’t exactly been thrilled with her talk about Earth, even if she hadn’t completely exploded or tried to lock her away like the ambassador. Maybe volunteering her mission to the other creatures around them wasn’t a great idea. “We have a long trip ahead of us.”

The rest of the climb up Mount Aris felt like it would go on for its own little eternity, with Summer needing to stop for a break more than once. It was on her second stop when Emerald landed beside her, nudging her. “Hey, Summer, did you forget?”

She winced, trying to figure out what the child might be talking about. “Did I forget about… what?”

Emerald raised an eyebrow. “The promise you made? About singing for me?”

You mean the one I made before our group almost broke apart and I had to jump out a building? But that was on her, not Emerald. “Of course I didn’t forget!” she lied. “It’s just about, uh… finding the right time. I wasn’t sure how things would go underwater. I still think it’s gonna be a little silly, I’m not very good at it.”

To her surprise, Cloudhunter was listening, because he approached, pointing up the slope with a wing. “If you look all the way up, you can just barely make out an old arch. Do you see it?”

Summer nodded. She shouldn’t have been able to make out anything at that distance, but Hippogriff eyes were much better than anything she’d had on Earth. Probably she could see fish swimming through shallow water from a thousand feet up, and catch it like any other sea bird. She was hungry enough to consider the idea. “Yeah. The one that’s… a little overgrown, up there…”

“Yes,” Cloudhunter said. “That’s the entrance to the Harmonizing Heights. It’s a natural formation as old as the island itself, that we left intact no matter how big the city grew. The wind seems to sing while it blows through them—they’d be perfect for a song.”

“That sounds like the place to me,” Sharp said. “Once we’re done at the drydock, I’m sure Summer will want another hike. Just look at her, she loves this.”

She shoved him with a wing, hard enough that he nearly slipped down to the next switchback, before he caught himself with his hooves, grinning mischievously at her.

But she didn’t argue the point. Maybe if the natural music was loud enough, her companions wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway.

They had seen a little of the upper city during their first arrival. Though that trip had been coming off Summer’s fears of imminent arrest by Seaquestia’s queen, and she hadn’t been in much place to appreciate what she saw.

Now she could see, and admire the cross between elvish village and stained-glass birdcages. For a nation under siege, they sure made a lot of glass, in every color she could imagine. Not only that, but they’d somehow found a way to coax the redwood-sized trees to grow into structures.

Cloudhunter followed her gaze, and he nodded in satisfaction. “It’s the same transformation magic we use to move into the water,” he said. “Hippogriffs and other creatures are delicate, and the pearl doesn’t seem to want to do anything too extreme with us. But plants can keep growing through almost anything. Each of these trees takes a generation of careful coaxing to grow, but the effort is worth it. Ambitious females like yourself usually start on it while they’re young, so they have a tree to leave to their oldest daughter when she flies out of the nest. Everyone else in the family usually lives in one tree forever, which is… why they’re so big. Four or five generations of birds all share one tree, sometimes more.”

A little late for me to start on that. She wasn’t even sure where the thought came from. But she dismissed it quickly, blushing deeply. She wasn’t about to be taken in by some strange vision of what her future ought to be like in a place that wasn’t hers.

Besides, if she didn’t come home, she’d rather be in Equestria. The culture and creatures who lived there were more familiar.

Eventually they found their way back to the dock, where dozens of other military-looking airships were all parked for service. The Horizon was still right where they’d left it, though it now had a crew of anxious-looking birds with toolboxes and carts of supplies waiting on the deck.

It didn’t look like they’d changed anything, though Sharp practically galloped to meet them as soon as he saw them. Summer stayed back with Emerald, watching as Sharp gestured to them, explaining whatever mechanical difficulties the ship was experiencing.

Cloudhunter remained with her on the dock, only glancing up once. “We have instructions to provide whatever components or service is necessary to get your airship skyworthy again. Though I wonder if you should be aboard, Summer Ray. Do you really want to go back to live with ponies? Now that you’ve found where you belong.”

She might’ve had a little harder time answering if Emerald wasn’t standing a foot away, watching her with wide, expectant eyes. The filly was a reminder of why she was going back. “I hope I get to come back here one day. A whole city built underwater is amazing. I’d really like to bring one of those high-quality underwater cameras. What you’ve accomplished, I don’t think many people would believe. But I’m not ready to move in.”

“Underwater cameras,” Cloudhunter repeated, impressed. “I didn’t know Equestria was so far ahead of us. They spend enough time underwater to want to record it?”

She winced. “Uh… I probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s not common. I just think it would be amazing for more people to see what you’ve built. Mixing the living reef with your buildings like that…”

He patted her on the shoulder, almost peremptorily. “If you say so, young miss. Just know that no creature here will judge you if you can’t abide living with the ponies any longer. There’s a place for you here, even if you were born to them.”

He pointed at her necklace. “The pearl was your test, and you passed. Whatever you do, make sure you’re still getting practice with that. I used to tell my students to go back and forth a few times each day. You need to make it so natural that you don’t need to think about it. Then you can slow down.”

Might be difficult while we’re taking an airship journey across the world. “Will you… be with us when we go back down? You said we were staying up here instead of down there tonight.”

He nodded. “Me or some other creature with similar training. No one forgot about your weaknesses, young miss.” He lowered his voice. “If you look around you, you’ll see you’re bit of a sensation right now. Creatures all over the city have been talking about you since you arrived. The first hippogriff not born here is a big moment.”

One I’ve stolen from the creature that should’ve had it. But there wasn’t any time left to feel guilty. All she wanted to do was go home. Or she thought she wanted to go home. She hadn’t come here to be a minor celebrity, or to take recognition away from the first hippogriff actually born here.

A few minutes later, and Sharp came back down the ramp. Not for her, though. “Emerald, we’re going to completely dismantle the engine and replace the entire drive manifold. I’d like to have your help. The hippogriff crew seem skilled, but she’s my baby, and you know her better than any of them.”

He turned slightly to her. “I’m sorry Summer, but this will probably take a number of hours. Even if we finish the engine today, which… seems unlikely, they’re suggesting a number of other upgrades. I’d be a fool to turn them down.”

She raised a wing, silencing him. “It’s fine, Sharp. I’ve been waiting to go home for months now. If we’re here a few days, then that’s just more time for me to see the sights.”

“Don’t go to that… Harmonizing… place, without me!” Emerald said, hugging briefly against her foreleg and looking up as she said it. “You promised!”

“I’ll still sing for you,” she said, defeated. “I won’t go without you.”

She watched them return up the ramp, joining the engineering team. Sharp went back to listing the supplies they would need, and more hippogriffs in blue uniforms arrived from elsewhere on the deck. This wouldn’t be a repair that would take weeks, that was for sure.

“If there’s anywhere specific you’d like to see,” Cloudhunter said politely. “I’d be happy to escort you, and to cover any expenses. Queen Novo was clear about the hospitality you should be shown for the duration.”

“Well…” She flushed. “Honestly, what I’d like to do most is research the history of hippogriffs. Do you have a library? Oh, but… it would be really helpful if I could grab some of my things first. The ones we left in the palace.” It would be great if I could take pictures of the relevant passages instead of having to copy them down by hand, but I don’t want to tell you about tablet computers.

“No problem. Your things have already been moved to your accommodations for the night, we can stop by quickly.” He nodded. “When the Storm King finally captured Mt. Aris, he looted the library along with everything else. But he was only interested in supernatural lore. Follow me.”

She did, along the trail between the trees. Now that she wasn’t traveling with ponies, there were far fewer stares. She had her own little piece of the pearl, and apparently that was enough for her to pass for one of the natives on quick inspection.

The library was one of the few stone structures built on the peak, aside from the castle. It had a single stone spire twisting up into the sky, and plenty of slot-like windows cut into the rock. Not built from blocks, but hollowed from the mountain itself.

Cloudhunter took her inside, through a low corridor and over an ancient mosaic of the pearl and some historical ruler or another receiving it into their claws. “The loremaster’s desk is in back. I’m sure they’ll have some recommended reading for you.”

It wasn’t anything like the libraries she’d visited in Equestria, which might’ve been on Earth if they had a few more computers and fewer horses. It became immediately clear that she was walking somewhere that wasn’t commonly visited.

Through the tunnel, and one side of the building fell away in a spectacular drop hundreds of feet through the rock. There was no railing, just a drop off the edge lit by spectacular skylights above in blues and greens. Along the far wall, with no way to walk or climb to it, were little cubies cut into the stone.

There were few books—most of what was stored here were parchment scrolls, tightly packed into wooden or canvas rolls. Some were even ceramic, covered in writing that looked frighteningly like cuneiform.

But that was probably just her imagining things.

There was almost no sound in the building at all, just the wind that was obviously the hot air she felt blowing down past her.

“It’s the oldest continuously operating library in the world,” Cloudhunter said proudly, stopping beside her as she stared. “Though a few of those years were by the Storm King’s brutes, and not the ones who built it. Our collection isn’t nearly as large as what’s been stockpiled in Canterlot, but some of it is even older. Mt. Aris predates Equestria itself.”

She followed Cloudhunter past the exposed shelves to a reading area, with secluded booths each lit with their own skylight. Most were empty, though there were noble-looking birds tucked away in a few, with piles of scrolls and books around them. Not much beyond that, they reached the loremaster.

Once Cloudhunter had explained her situation, Summer said, “I’d like to read a little about the history of Mt. Aris. Where hippogriffs came from, how they settled here… that kind of thing.”

The loremaster was an elderly bird, most of his feathers bleached white. He had thick spectacles, and from the look of it only one working eye. He squinted at her with it, apparently searching for something. He settled briefly on her necklace, staring a little as he saw it. “It’s natural for you to want to know your history. Even if you only share it by adoption.” He pointed back at the booths. “Wait there. I’ll have someone fly you what you need to start.”

That was what she did. She clambered inside, expecting Cloudhunter to follow close behind. But the bird just nodded to her. “I’ll be waiting just outside for when you’ve finished your study, young miss. I’m afraid I’ve got nothing of worth to contribute here.”

She nodded to him. “Thanks for your help, Cloudhunter.”

She didn’t have long to wait for the books, which were brought not by the loremaster but a young bird who barely even looked at her as he settled the basket on the table in front of her, then hurried off.

Unfortunately that did leave Summer to figure them out for herself. All scrolls, except for a single book tucked away near the bottom of the basket. She pulled it out first, sliding it in front of herself and flipping it open.

Mount Aris by the Ages, a Summary was fairly new compared to everything else in the basket, with pages that hadn’t started to yellow and a cover of flexible leather. Or… maybe not the real stuff? It didn’t smell like it came from a cow, anyway.

She flipped through the beginning section about Mt. Aris’s ancient days, but met quickly with disappointment. It said only what she already knew, that the city had been founded by a tribe of nomadic wanderers who had been hated in every land they traveled to. It made only vague references to the “old cities” they had built, each one abandoned because of disaster or violence.

Then they found a place that was so hard to reach that they couldn’t be invaded, and established a home. The rest of the book went on to talk about the various kings and queens who had ruled, and what they’d accomplished.

She picked a scroll at random after that, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she could still read it. It was less obvious how she could do that, since the writing was absolutely different from what she’d seen before. But somehow there was meaning.

But just because she could read the words themselves didn’t mean she could make any sense of the authors’ original intents. Most of it was rambling nonsense, ascribing great honor to someone called the “Spearbreaker” and his army without saying anything meaningful about him.

She’d nearly given up hope when she finally found what she was looking for, an otherwise insignificant reference near the bottom of one scroll.

“From the first inheritance we walked, until we found the spirit of transformation to teach us how to fly. Lir promised it would give us the ocean too, so the whole world could be ours. When we learned how to swim, we realized it had kept its promise, and we were content.”

The quotation came from a chronicle of oral histories, describing the “Great Migration” from the north. Most of the other accounts she saw seemed obviously fictional—whole rivers frozen so they could cross, or champions brought back from the dead to fight again.

First inheritance, huh? There was no telling if that account was any truer than what she’d seen so far. But considering what else Summer had learned, it did seem suggestive.

They all seem to agree that hippogriffs came here from the north. Could it be that the north they’d come from wasn’t even in this world?

There was only one inconsistency in that story, and it was a big one.

The ruins of the Doorway were on this side. There were no traces of ancient stone structures on that end. The native Alaskans had built almost nothing from stone, as far back as she knew. Too bad she didn’t have Google to verify her suspicions.

But she did have her tablet, and no prying eyes to watch her. She opened her PDF-scanner, and used it on each scroll in sections. Not perfect, but… she’d have them to review. Whatever she missed during her skimming might be clearer when she really had the time to sit down.

When the sun finally began to dim, the same young bird returned to her booth, nudging her in the leg with one claw. “Are you, uh… I’m afraid you’ll have to return to us tomorrow, miss. We’re closing for the night. I need to take those scrolls back to their places.”

“Go ahead.” She rose, nodding towards the table. “Thank you for letting me study here. It was very helpful.” Not as definitive as I would’ve liked. If only she could figure out why the Doorway was on this side, she’d be confident in her interpretation of the data. Without that… she was only more confused.

But it didn’t really matter. Whatever the history of their worlds, it wasn’t for her to figure out. Unless she actually did make it home. Feather is still looking for us. Kate might murder us before we make it back to the Doorway. Or maybe she’d just given up. Maybe she didn’t care.

Cloudhunter was waiting for her outside the library, and together they made their way back to the docks. “There’s an excellent restaurant here near the peak,” he said as they walked. “As soon as we’ve met up with your pony friends. They won’t appreciate much of the food, but I’ll wager you haven’t had much fish living with them. I’m told omnivores make ponies queasy.”

She laughed. “That sounds amazing. I’ve been craving a good steak since I got here, something bloody enough that it’s still dripping on my plate.”

“Oh, uh…” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s a steak? Maybe I can pass word to the chef now.”

Shit. “Nevermind.” She spread her wings, in the gesture she’d long learned was a shrug. “I’ll want their specialty, whatever it is. I’ll be glad for whatever meat you have.”

Their meal together was fantastic, spent mostly listening to Sharp and Emerald talk in excited voices about what they were doing to the Horizon. “I’ve always wanted to add external guidance fins, and here they’re a standard feature! We’ll have them deployed in a few days!” or “They’re preparing a fresh coat of paint for the exterior. They have an airbrush and everything!”

But Summer wasn’t bored, not even a little. She had her first decent dish of something carnivorous since arriving in Equestria, sizzling thin fillets of some tropical fish in a bed of grilled veggies. Her pony friends just got the veggies.

The next few days were spent similarly, with Emerald and Sharp working with the engineers while Summer explored Mt. Aris. After another day in the library, she couldn’t stomach more reading old scrolls and learning nothing concrete. Unless she was imagining something, she would’ve sworn that someone had intentionally purged it. Aside from the Spearbreaker and the First Inheritance, she couldn’t even find any proper nouns.

You’re hiding your history, birds. Why?

After a week, she woke up one afternoon with the hardworking ponies already gone and a banging on the door. She groaned, flopping sideways out of bed and straightening her feathers with one claw.

There were some advantages to being in a world of nudists—she didn’t have to put her clothes back on when she got up.

She swung the door open, expecting the morning delivery of bits for food and supplies from the Queen. But there wasn’t a delivery mare on the other side, there was a princess. “Hi!” Skystar said, waving eagerly at her with one claw. “Are you busy? No, you just got up. I can tell. Your mane is… a little messy.”

She blushed, running a claw through it. “Y-yeah, sorry. I did. Good to see you again, Princess. What’s up?”

“The court wants to see you,” she said. “Without your friends. Which… looks like they aren’t here, so they won’t be disappointed they can’t come. Let’s go!”

Chapter 34: With Mixed Results

For the second time, Summer found herself on the edge of a pool in the palace, staring down at the clear water’s surface. Only this time she wouldn’t be relying on someone else to change her, or fearing that she would run out of air halfway there. Instead she had other worries. “Why does the court want to see me, Princess? Did we do something wrong?”

“Oh, no.” She bounced past her, grinning a little wider with every step. “You know how stuffy old creatures can be. They like to feel like they have their claws in everything. And the Queen has to humor them, or else they get antsy. You didn’t do anything wrong while you were here, but you did get around. There are creatures worried about what will happen when you, uh…” She stopped on the edge of the water, glancing over her shoulder. “Do you need help with this? Or can you get in on your own?”

She hesitated for a second, reaching up to clutch the pearl around her neck. Instead of answering directly, she learned forward, letting her weight take her down over the edge, and breathing out as she hit the water. She changed as she fell, and struck the water with a tail, letting the bubbles rush around her. Had that been graceful? She couldn’t even tell.

“Nice!” Skystar swam around her, leaving a trail of bubbles as she went. “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you? You didn’t fight it like the hatchlings do.”

She flushed, drifting awkwardly back and forth in the water for a few seconds. There was that reminder of how different their biology was all over again. I should’ve thought about that. It was obvious I’d be going back. “A little,” she admitted. “Cloudhunter said I should go back and forth a few times each day. I used the bathtub. It’s hard when there’s not water around.”

“Well yeah.” Skystar led the way down. “That’s just common sense. You need water to swim, and your guts know it. Like jumping out of a tree before you’re ready.”

Summer couldn’t help but grin as she followed the princess, despite her embarrassment. She might’ve been able to practice the magic up in a bathtub, but there was barely enough room to get her head under the surface. It was a kind of life she’d never even known she wanted, and she reveled in it. Wherever I settle down, I hope it has a lake. Or at least a swimming pool.

Of course, it went without saying that if she ever did make it back to Earth, she’d never be able to do this again. Even if the pearl didn’t turn to dust or whatever as soon as she went through the portal, she couldn’t risk using it. What if it only knew how to make a hippogriff, and she ended up back in this body on the wrong side of the portal?

The current was already carrying them that way, draining downward the way it had done before. This is a royal elevator, not a trap. It’s a luxury. I bet she can ride this up too. She’d have to ask to take it on the way back, instead of that awful hike.

Soon enough they were back in the reef city, with its living walls and energetic activity. “It feels like there are more creatures down here than up there. Like every home has someone living there, instead of just… an empty place.”

“You’re not wrong,” Skystar said, her voice turning wistful as they made their way to the palace. “We’ve been down here for so long that most creatures haven’t spent much time on the surface. Going up there is a change, it’s scary. Their grandparents probably lived up there. I like visiting, but I think I’m an exception. My mother almost never goes.”

But now they were reaching the palace itself. The throne room wasn’t empty this time, but packed with fish of all sizes. Most of them were old, with jewelry of shells and mother-of-pearl. They watched her with disapproving eyes, eyes that made her wish she’d been able to bring Sharp after all.

But that hadn’t been an option, and she was much too far to ask for it now. There was little more for her to do but follow Skystar to the throne, and lower her head in what she hoped was a bow. It wasn’t quite so scary this time, and the strange sphere behind the stone seat didn’t make her sick just to look at. If anything it seemed to draw her towards it, like a moth to a porchlight.

“Visitor to our realm, traveler from the First Inheritance, Summer Ray,” the Queen said, gesturing for her to rise. Or… drift the other way? The quick swim down here was enough for her to float comfortably, without the constant drift that had made her feel like a child last time. “The court recognizes your attendance in the matter of contact with the Ancestral Land.”

Skystar flitted over to her, guiding her to an empty box near the front. It felt frighteningly like the witness stand. She whispered into her ear as they swam. “That shell on the counter there, you can hit it if you want to say something. You don’t have to hit it to answer questions. Just… whatever you do, don’t interrupt anyone. Especially my mom.”

She nodded appreciatively, keeping fearfully silent under so many watchful eyes. The box had her back to the Queen and princess, facing the nobles of the court. But it had been the nobles who wanted to speak to her, hadn’t Skystar said that?

If she had any doubt, it wasn’t the Queen who finally spoke, but a figure near the front of one of the boxes. An old fish, with scales missing from his tail and his eyes clouded. Apparently the hippogriffs couldn’t correct cataracts.

“Arrow, House Wavebreaker,” he began, then: “The court of Mt. Aris is endeavoring to glean enough information to know whether it is right to contact the creatures on the other side. There is… great dispute among this court, as to whether the creatures there are our ancestors, or else the enemies that drove us from the First Inheritance.”

Apparently the rules that applied to her weren’t for the nobles, because a female voice from the other side of the room interrupted him. Rival factions, maybe? “There’s only dispute because we’re stupid. Witness, swim up so that imbecile from Wavebreaker can see your pearl.”

She obeyed, though she didn’t swim very far, holding out the necklace. Arrow didn’t seem interested in looking in her direction at all, though plenty of the other creatures in the room did. Many gasped when they saw it.

Arrow cleared his throat. “That objection was improperly made. It will not be recorded.”

The female fish was all black and white scales, without any jewelry to be seen. “Marina, House Ripple. Extensive research has been collected of all hippogriffs who have ever departed from our lands, and the reader of records has determined no creature matching Summer Ray’s description has ever left us. There are only seventeen birds living outside Seaquestria at this moment, and every one of them is accounted for. Given her age, Seaquestria would’ve still been under Storm King occupation, and would remain so for at least four decades.”

What the hell are you talking about? Summer glanced between them, trying to gauge which of the many factions might be friendly to her. But she wasn’t even sure what courses of action they were pushing forward. An obvious mistake about her age didn’t seem worth objecting to if it helped them believe her.

She rang her shell anyway, then stared up and around the room with confidence. “I am not from Seaquestria. Without my translation spell, I would not even be able to speak your language.” She reached down, removing the necklace, then went on. “This is what I sound like speaking German. If you don’t hear any similarities, it’s because there aren’t any.”

The reaction was extreme. Creatures gasped and pointed at her, whispering to one another. Had she done something wrong? Or… no, that couldn’t be it. They didn’t seem to be upset with her. They were yelling at each other. By the time she slid the necklace back on, the elderly fish was shouting.

“Order, order! House Wavebreaker accepts the evidence. This creature is not a hybrid born of Equestria, or a transplant from Seaquestria.”

They’re only identifying themselves the first time, she realized. Maybe she could make sense of how their strange court worked after all.

“Coralita, House Seaspray,” said a green fish with an almost snakelike tail. “We have to accept the claims, or we can’t reach any meaningful conclusions on them. We brought her here to decide if the creatures of the First Inheritance should be contacted, or whether any traffic between our worlds could be permitted.”

The weight of her words settled on Summer’s shoulders abruptly, and her eyes widened. They might not let me go home. She might’ve been having her own doubts for a week or so now, but those thoughts were strangled in an instant. It was one thing to decide she’d rather live here. But to have her home and family stolen from her, by creatures who didn’t know a thing about her world…

Now she was angry.

But she kept quiet. She still didn’t know who was on which side. Should she make humans look dangerous and scary, or friendly and wonderful?

Tell the truth, stupid. Are you going to trade a whole planet for your own stupid life?

“In the opinion of our witness,” Coralita went on. “Does she believe those of the First Inheritance would be hostile to Seaquestria? Would they wish to initiate friendly contact with lost relatives, or… perhaps she’s the scout of invaders? Now that she has seen our kingdom and knows where to find us, she will return through the Doorway and plan our destruction.”

Shouts filled the hall again, and a few fish actually swam at each other. It was the Queen who finally quieted them. “It is absurd to claim Summer is hostile to Seaquestria,” she said. “Unless House Seaspray is suggesting that the Pearl of Transformation has lost its ability to determine whose heart belongs to the sea.”

Coralita grumbled, her tail twisting tighter about her. “House Seaspray… does not make such a claim. If not an invader, then… a dupe. Perhaps they have been keeping some of our ancestors captive, and will obtain the same information from her by force that she would’ve willingly given as a traitor.”

There were fewer objections this time, and soon enough the room fell silent. From all the eyes on her, Summer guessed that she was actually expected to answer this time. At least Queen Novo is on my side.

“I know with certainty that Seaquestria will not be invaded, unless you made some hostile action first. Which I…” She stifled a laugh, which came out as a choking cough underwater. “I wouldn’t suggest it.”

“The witness does not seem certain,” observed Arrow. “On what is she conflicted? How can she be sure that those in our ancestral homeland will not try to capture Seaquestria for themselves?”

She floated a little straighter, though in reality she still had no idea how body language worked for these fish, and couldn’t be sure she wasn’t really showing weakness. “The creatures on the other side are called humans. We wouldn’t want Seaquestria because we can’t breathe water, or transform.” Also the military industrial complex would turn this place into a pile of rubble in a few hours.

There was more conversation this time, as fish repeated the name she’d told them. But if human meant anything to them, the next fish to take the floor didn’t say so. “Salina Blue, House Waterlily. You can. Perhaps these humans really are our ancestors. What other creatures live on your world? Have they tried to kill you as they slaughtered us? Perhaps you are a… related remnant.”

More murmuring, though far less hostile this time. The court seemed to think this was a plausible explanation. Which, in fairness, it might be. If they were completely ignorant about Earth.

“There are many nations and factions on Earth—that’s what we call our world. There have been large wars over the years, but nothing big for…” She counted it off on her fin. “Sixty years?” She wasn’t going to touch the cold war, there wasn’t a chance in hell she could explain something so complex with an audience like this.

Her usual calming techniques of deep breaths didn’t work when she didn’t have lungs. The gills didn’t hold water exactly, there was just a constant motion to draw water down her throat and across them, then out. She was used to it by now.

“Not even two generations,” Arrow said. “Could we find any greater evidence of the danger here? Can we afford another front?”

“Would it even be ours?” asked another noble, after introducing himself. “Equestria holds that territory, and many miles besides. If the natives there were hostile, would they ever reach us? There are four Alicorns now, that’s what the consul says.”

She wasn’t called on to say much of anything for a good long while, as the court debated with itself over how a war in the north was likely to go, and how far into Equestrian territory their ancient enemy would be able to push, assuming it still lived. Skystar seemed as bored of the whole thing as she was, because she swam up to the stand while the nobles were screaming at each other, her voice low. “You don’t think your world would invade ours, right?”

“No,” she said, without thinking. “I think if we could get a stable bridge, one that didn’t transform the ones who used it, maybe they’d want to come here to visit. Equestria is beautiful, and Seaquestria is too. But becoming a hippogriff is a high price to pay. If that’s all the Doorway does, then we’d probably want you to come to us.”

She frowned, considering the implications all the way through. Would the magic reverse itself for other creatures when they went through? Would Sharp become human with her, or stay a pony? “You don’t know how Doorways work, do you?”

“No…” she whispered. Even with the court arguing all around them, she seemed careful not to make too much noise. “But it makes sense it would’ve changed you. Lots of really old magic is powered with your piece of the pearl. I don’t know how, exactly, you’d think it would’ve run out over all these years. But it’s not really a thing, it’s more like a creature. And maybe we feed it by taking the sea? I don’t know.”

There was probably some rule they were breaking just by talking. But if the court wasn’t going to care about it, then neither would she. “I’ve been in the library for days, Princess. But I can’t figure out why there’s ancient ruins on Equestria’s side, but not on mine.”

The princess frowned a moment, then lowered her mouth right up to Summer’s ear to whisper. “There were… expeditions, a long time ago. I don’t know much, but… a long time before Equestria, they went north and never came back. No bird or fish knows what happened, but it’s part of why everyone here is so afraid. It showed how dangerous our old home still was.”

“We’re going in circles,” the Queen declared, so loudly that the bickering abruptly fell silent. As she said it, Skystar darted back with a few flicks of her tail, so sudden that most in the room probably wouldn’t have seen. “Summer Ray, you know more about your world than we could learn from you in a thousand questions. Tell us what you think will happen if we contact the creatures on the other side of the door.”

It was exactly the sort of question she’d been afraid of. These other nobles she felt like she could ignore. One of them had basically accused her of being an evil spy. But Queen Novo had been nothing but respectful to her since she arrived. Given them a place to stay, resources to fix the Horizon. She could do nothing but return that respect.

“I think that it would be world-shattering for everyone. My return is going to do that, if it spreads. We never thought… It’s going to sound stupid to you, but we didn’t think there were any other kinds of life. They’ll probably want to meet you, see how your world works. Maybe set up an embassy, and start trading. We’re a very curious people, eager to learn more about the world. We would want to learn more about yours.”

“Why commit to any course now?” asked Arrow. “We know the ancient passage remains open. We need not be brash. Swear the witness to secrecy and be done with it.”

“You heard the story,” Coralita said. “She’s been gone for months. Even if we could trust her to keep her word, which we cannot do, she also just said her people were curious. Keeping her here may be the only option to prevent an investigation.”

She winced, then went on before she could stop herself. “The experiment that brought me here is going to end in another month or two. If I don’t return before that, you may never get another chance to cross. Your ancestral home could be cut off forever.”

“Objection,” Arrow said. “The witness did not signal. Let it be stricken from the record.” But no one seemed to be listening. Everyone in the throne room seemed to be watching the Queen now, waiting for her response.

She took a long time. But eventually, she drew herself up, floating away from the throne. “We cannot allow our history to be lost to us. Summer Ray’s arrival was… a rare opportunity, perhaps once in a hundred generations. Besides, Seaquestria is not the feeble kingdom it once was, fleeing from its enemies. Our navy is brave, and the ponies have already proven they will be our allies in violence if it comes to that. It might be better to say we would be their allies, given their territory would be struck first. But I believe the account of our visitor.

“I nominate a course: let us prepare a message for our ancestors, along with a few fine works to represent Seaquestria. She will bring them back for us. While she travels, we will prepare a comprehensive diplomatic envoy, to wait on our side of the door. We will let her kind decide if our worlds should be bridged.”

There was more argument, but none of it involved questions to her. A few hours later, and all their bickering brought them back around to the Queen’s proposal.

It wasn’t perfect. Considering the difficulty they’d had getting the doorway to work last time, she would’ve preferred a crew of hippogriff engineers to go with them—or maybe an entire airship escort in case Feather attacked.

But considering how much argument had stood between her and that much, Summer didn’t ask for more.

There was a chance she might arrive to find the machine wouldn’t work, and everyone’s time had been wasted.

But she would still get to try. She couldn’t ask for more.

Chapter 35: Then We Set Sail

Of course they didn’t fly straight from Seaquestria after that. There was one place left for them to go—a promise she’d made to be kept.

It wasn’t hard to find the Harmonizing Heights, particularly when every creature in the city couldn’t say enough about them. After being forced to sit through the court proceeding that might abruptly take away her ability to go home, Summer was thrilled to be out moving again, with her hooves on solid ground.

“Hopefully you haven’t been too bored,” Sharp said conversationally. “It’s been ages since I’ve had tools like this. We probably could’ve left sooner if we weren’t taking advantage of it.”

She shrugged. “I’m glad the Horizon is finally getting the attention she deserves. We’re going to need her in good condition if your old flame decides to burn us down.”

His ears flattened a little, apparently recognizing the expression. “Yes, well. We’ll be more than prepared if that were to happen. It hurt me to do it, but we’ve replaced my custom engine with two hippogriff motors. They’re… good enough. I could do better with more time, obviously, but that’s the one thing we’re better off not spending. I get the feeling that those engineers might not let us leave if they realize how good at this we are.”

Emerald flew along ahead of them, turning to glare back at them. “You can hear the peak! We’re almost there!”

She was right. Summer closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the wind through the stone. It was as beautiful as she’d imagined, a low hum mixing with high whistling. There’s no way this is natural, right? Somebody set this up. If you could build roads that sung to you, why not a clifftop?

The hippogriffs had made it easy to know they were going the right direction with a set of carved stone heads facing the trail, ancient and worn. And beyond them…

By the orange light of sunset, it looked like any other park. A few carefully directed streams, lots of flowers and trees, and a gravel path leading through to keep wearing on the grassland down. There were a few ancient stone statues scattered here and there, many slightly overgrown with their faces hidden.

“What did those court fish even want to know, anyway?” Emerald asked, landing on a large boulder and grinning up at her. “More about your world?”

“A little,” she said. “They didn’t seem like they wanted to listen to what I had to say that much. But I tried to tell them everything I knew. They’re preparing some kind of… message, for me to bring back to Earth. Honestly it seems like the best option. That way I can hand it off to someone who actually knows what they’re doing, and…” go back to my life. Is what she would’ve said. But the words felt strange on her tongue, and she couldn’t bring herself to say them. For the last several months, her life was here.

“Too bad they aren’t giving us an escort,” Sharp muttered. “My ‘old flame’ won’t have given up when some of her ships didn’t return. If I know Kat-ate, I know she gets even with the ones who upset her. You must’ve really upset her if she sent a lightning-canon after us.”

“She wants Equestria to herself,” Summer said, walking up to the boulder and resting one claw on its moss-covered face. As she got close, she realized it wasn’t just a rock after all, but the top of an ancient statue. There was a head under there, something that would’ve been thirty feet tall or more. It didn’t look that much like a hippogriff, but that was probably just the angle. “I can’t blame her for wanting to stay here. Equestria is wonderful. Its cities are… like something out of a better time. Its creatures seem kinder, if they aren’t trying to push you into the ocean, or… blast you out of the sky.”

She winced. “Okay, maybe there are evil creatures here just like back home. But still. I can see why she wanted to stay.”

Sharp sat down on his haunches just out of reach, raising an eyebrow. “You sure it’s Kat-ate you’re talking about. That all sounds… specific. Kinda like those are your ideas, and not hers.”

She winced, turning towards Emerald. “I promised you I’d sing, sweetheart. Are you sure that’s still something you want? I’m not good at it. Being here isn’t going to make me any better.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Emerald said. “Every creature can sing, but some of them just don’t know it yet. You’ll see! Just pick something from home. I’m sure the magic here will make it sound good no matter what it is.”

She couldn’t really put it off any further. Summer sat back and sang. It was something simple, a tune she’d heard from her mother when she was a child. She hadn’t really been into much music, and she didn’t think her attempt at folksong would go over very well, no matter what Emerald said about magic.

She had no idea how she was doing, though there was something strange about the valley. It wasn’t her imagination, it really was making some sounds louder. It seemed like there were more of her, and that her voice was carrying across the grass. She didn’t feel like she was struggling to stay in tune, either.

Then she finished. Her last few notes echoed across the hills. The first thing she saw were the faces of her companions, staring at her. Emerald bounced and giggled, gliding down off the ancient stone to land beside her for a hug. “I told you you could sing, Summer! You didn’t need a stupid mountain. I didn’t understand that, but it was pretty!”

Sharp was staring at her too, with a very different expression in his eyes. She’d never seen that look before, though she didn’t need to be told what it was. Oh shit.

Then he kissed her, and she didn’t regret singing quite so much.

Their package from the court arrived early the next morning, a single wooden crate tightly wrapped with waxed paper and a note of instructions. Summer didn’t know how they could write anything for her underwater, but the penmanship was clear enough.

Do not open this box until you’re presenting it to whatever diplomatic envoy of Earth is appropriate. We have protected this container against swim, snow, or storm. I trust you will give us the same respect we have shown to you.
-Queen Novo

They had one last meal at a treetop restaurant, where the chef insisted on preparing her a fish fillet despite the early hour as soon as he learned they were going back to Equestria. “I’ve made plenty for leftovers. Don’t starve, young bird. Come back home soon.”

But where is that? As she climbed up onto the new and improved Horizon, she couldn’t answer that question herself.

At least the Horizon looked impressive. With both engines restored to her hull, fresh paint, and a set of wide cloth fins protruding from below, the similarities to a hippogriff ship were obvious.

Sharp caught her staring on the deck, and he nudged her shoulder. “It’s exactly what it looks like, Summer. Feather has to see us to try to kill us, and looking like this… they’ll think we’re hippogriffs.”

“Until we dock somewhere,” she said, following him up the ramp and onto the deck. “Sooner or later we’re going to have to stop for supplies. As soon as we step into an Equestrian port, word will get back to Feather, and the chase is back on.”

“Well… maybe.” Sharp led her along the deck, pointing at the strange gutters running off the side. “See those? When rain drains off the balloon, it’ll fall into those, into the cistern at the bottom deck. We’ll… have to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t sink us.”

The signs of the Horizon’s crash were almost impossible to see. Anywhere the water had warped was sanded and varnished. There was an entirely new control-box beside the helm. And down the steps, the kitchen now had a sink and faucet. She turned it, and water flowed. “No more pump?”

Every shelf and inch of storage space was packed with supplies. Not just the leftover dried apples that the farmers had left them—these were all covered in military marks, cans and bags and barrels. One glance down to the engine room told her the hold was filled to the brim as well. “I didn’t know the Horizon could carry this much.”

He beamed. “Most of it is dried. It’s how the Seaquestria navy makes long trips. Mix in some water, heat it, and… we’re good. The math says it should last all the way back to Sleighsburg. If we follow the wind, we won’t even have to stop for fuel.”

“Damn,” she whispered, flinging her forelegs around him in a tight hug. “Thanks for doing so much for me, Sharp. You could’ve left me in Sleighsburg… let them shove me into the ocean. I wouldn’t have even found someone friendly to talk to in all Equestria if it wasn’t for you.”

Sharp rubbed his head up against her. “When you say it like that, it’s almost like I got nothing out of this. But that’s not true. You showed me relics of another world. You told me what was on the other side of the Doorway. If we’re lucky, I’ll get to see it for myself.”

“I hope you do,” she said. “It’s… a frozen wasteland on that side, same as Sleighsburg. But the world over there has its own wonders. My family… I haven’t seen them in months. They probably think I’m dead. By now they probably had a funeral and everything. I wonder what they’d think if I told them I was a girl…”

He held her for a few more seconds. “Whatever your decision, I’ll support you. I can see why a creature wouldn’t want to give up everything they knew. But if you are looking for a place in Equestria…” He trailed off, then gestured around the room. “I’ve got an airship.”

The rest of the Horizon looked the way she’d first expected it to—instead of mostly empty and old furniture, now the bedroom was richly appointed. Its master bedroom looked big enough for all sorts of things she should stop thinking about right now before she got herself into trouble.

She let go, shaking herself out and tucking in her tail before her body made her do something she’d regret. And more importantly, something that might hurt Sharp. It would be one thing if she was staying, but… her old body was waiting over there. Once she got it back, this relationship would die too.

“How long?” she asked. “Err… how long is the trip? If we get good weather and don’t have to stop?”

He slunk past her, back up the stairs to the helm. She followed, nodding to Emerald as she passed. The filly was standing by the railing, taking a few last pictures of Seaquestria before they left it behind. She was on Summer’s last memory card by now. They would actually have to delete some if she stayed in Equestria much longer.

“I’ve charted a course that will take us along northerly currents most of the way. We’ll be over open ocean for the majority of the trip. Little chance of Feather finding us for a raid, but… also little chance for help if something goes wrong. It’ll be just Emerald and I to get things working.”

Too bad I wasn’t prepared for this like Kate. I’d kill for my Switch and a few terabytes of movies. Maybe she would take a break from being an evil CEO to loan Summer a hard drive or two. “Good thing you’re so clever.”

As they made their final preparations to shove off, Summer expected a military envoy from the court to arrive any moment, with a sudden injunction against her departure. Some ashamed part of herself wanted the call to come. If she wasn’t allowed to go home, then she could rage and be bitter about it for a little while, and not have to feel guilty that she had stayed.

But none came. They filled their last few bags of ballast, Sharp checked the brand-new lines holding their gasbag in place… and then kicked off the dock. Mt. Aris fell away below them as they joined dozens of other airships in the sky. Engines began to hum, and they were moving forward. Not towards adventure this time—but home.

Summer Ray made her way to the bow, where she could watch Mt. Aris retreat into the distance. Military fortification though it might be, scarred with cannons and lightning, it was still beautiful.

Summer clutched her necklace about her throat with one claw, feeling the strange outline of the pearl there. When I’m old, will I ever believe this was real?

Some part of her didn’t believe it was real now, standing aboard an airship surrounded by aliens who had become her friends—creatures she could only understand thanks to a magic necklace that now had a part of the sea in it? Or maybe she’d left a part of herself in the ocean? That was still confusing. I’ll probably have to give it back if I don’t stay. Sharp will need to give that to whatever diplomat they send over.

“If we’re going to be flying for a few weeks…” Summer said, walking back to the helm and inspecting the navigational charts pinned beside it. When he said, “charted a course”, he actually meant it, with little pins and numbers scrawled at various points along the map. The sextant tucked away in a drawer not far from the helm wasn’t there for show. “I’d like to go back to language practice, if we can.”

“More… repeating words back and forth?” Emerald asked, groaning. “That was really boring.”

“I’ve had some new ideas since last time,” she said. “Now that I have my tablet, I was hoping to get you to read out some things. Maybe you could help me copy them out of the Seaquestria library. There were loads of interesting books about the history of Seaquestria, but most of them…” She trailed off, turning to Sharp. “Honestly, it felt like they didn’t want creatures to know their history before Mt. Aris. All the books that might’ve had specifics were just… not there.”

“Or they didn’t share them with you,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to speak ill of the hippogriffs after all they did for us, but… they’re not ponies, there’s no getting around it. They’re not as open about sharing what they know. Those engineers wouldn’t give me anything unless I knew what to ask for. I have a feeling that they would have put our engine back exactly as it was, without fixing anything else. But once they were sure I knew, they were happy to help.”

Emerald looked confused. “Why do you care about that, Summer? You didn’t come from Seaquestria.”

“I didn’t…” she began. “But I think Seaquestria may’ve come from… my world? I can’t be positive, because they’ve tucked away everything that would make it certain. It’s big, though. There’s so much information they don’t want to share.”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place,” Sharp suggested. “If we can’t find out more on Equestria’s side, we’ll have to search on yours.”

She nodded weakly. In a world where we didn’t believe magic existed, where there’s never been good evidence of other intelligent life on our planet. There were early human ancestors, but she somehow doubted hippogriffs qualified. She didn’t even want to think about how different her biology had to be.

“If we get the chance,” she said noncommittally. “We still have to get the Doorway to open. And not get blown up by Feather before we get there. We should focus on that.”

It was a long flight. Not quite a month, but close enough that it plagued Summer’s nights with fear over what they wouldn’t find when they reached the Doorway. At least her days were spent productively. She studied old scrolls, and pony language. She practiced her gliding when the wind was still, and there were clouds close enough to land on. She ate lots of dried hippogriff food, and spent her nights with Sharp and Emerald watching the same few movies on her iPad.

Sometimes she sang, not so much because she thought she was any good at it, but because Sharp liked it when she sang. She liked it when he was happy, so she did it anyway, even if it made her feel a little silly.

The Horizon’s improvements made the trip more than pleasant, like a rustic cabin in the sky. Drinking water from a clay cistern made it taste a little earthy, but she never got dysentery. At least rainwater was clean.

Once Emerald came to her late in the evening looking shy, while Sharp was checking the sky with his sextant and pocket watch and updating their position. “Uh… Summer?”

She looked up from the desk, turning off the screen. It took all day with her makeshift charger to get a few hours of use out of the thing, so she didn’t want to leave it on for even a moment longer than she had to.

“Yes, sweetheart?” She swiveled the chair around. “Does Sharp need me up there?”

“No.” She shuffled uncomfortably, her wings opening and closing. She pawed at the ground, but didn’t actually say anything.

Summer reached out with a wing, pulling her in close. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“It’s just…” she remained silent for a few moments more, before everything spilled out in a rush. “You’re going back to my village. And if we make it out of there… you’re going home. Aren’t you?”

She nodded weakly. “That’s the way…” she didn’t want to lie. “That’s the way it looks.”

“Why can’t you stay with us?” she asked. “I know you like Sharp. And having you around… I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

She reached down, squeezing the filly with one wing. “Me neither, sweetheart. I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen when we get there. The machine might not work. Or maybe we won’t be able to get through. But… if I don’t try to say goodbye to my family, I’m going to regret it forever. I hope you understand.”

“I’ll… try. And in the meantime, you should think about maybe… not leaving?”

Every day she watched the sky for the fleet that would destroy them, and every day she never saw them. Occasionally they passed a pony ship going another direction, which they would signal with flashing lights or flags and be on their way. They were too far from land or any real paths of traffic.

Summer let herself believe, however remote the possibility seemed, that maybe Kate would leave her be.

It was a pleasant fantasy, to go with all the other pleasant things in her life just then.

Author's Notes:

Credit to Lunebat for that positively amazing illustration. It's not often chapters get to come to life like that. The actual quality is much higher than the one I've embeded, you can download it here: https://twitter.com/LuneButt/status/1184258688867012608

Chapter 36: Into the Cold

It would’ve been wonderful to fly directly to their destination and get everything over with. Summer was eager to reach that portal, and confront whatever reality waited on the other side. Whether she’d be able to continue her relationship with Sharp or not, whether the portal would even work—at least the endless confusion and doubt would be over, and she could see how the chips would fall.

But there were some distractions too tempting even for her.

It was after at least two weeks of gentle travel that Sharp finally discovered the secret that would change their course. At least she could feel a little smug for taking all those scans of hippogriff books.

She wasn’t far away when it happened—perched in the window watching the stars, while he sat at the table with her tablet. Even if the finer points of touchscreens and human interfaces still eluded him, he could read through pictures without too much difficulty.

“Summer, are you awake?” he asked, voice suddenly intense.

“It’s not even ten,” she said, turning towards him. “What’s up?”

“This book… The Historical Domains of the Principalities Hippogriff. I can’t believe you didn’t mention this sooner!”

She frowned, trying to think back through the stack of dozens of books she’d scanned. “I, uh… was that the one with all the old maps?”

“Yes!” He gestured emphatically at the screen. “All this time, they’ve known where Athemis was! They’ve known, and it’s already on the way! We could be heading there without adding more than a day to our journey, plus however long it takes to explore.”

Reluctantly, Summer rose, shaking out her wings and crossing the room. She stopped touching his side, looking down beside him at the map. From the charts she’d seen, it did seem like the marked location of Athemis was on their way. A secluded island not unlike Mt. Aris, but in the north instead of the south. Based on their current route of heading north past Equestria before flying westward across the barren northern continent to avoid Feather, it seemed almost along the way. They’d only have to go a little bit further north, and they’d be there.

“Okay, I see what you mean. Looks like the ancient hippogriffs had some pretty buckin’ accurate maps. Except for those dragons on the edge there. Our medieval maps did that too. But I don’t understand what the point of Athemis is. You’ve never even said that name before. I’m not sure why I should be excited.”

In the past, she probably would’ve asked what it had to do with their trip home. But now some part of her couldn’t help thinking, If we get blown off course and snowed in up there, it would only take a month to miss the deadline to cross back over. The experiment would end, and it wouldn’t be my fault I’d be staying in Equestria.

Sharp sighed. “Haven’t you wondered about the same questions I have? Where did the Travelers come from? Did they visit your world, did hippogriffs migrate here? Or how about all the ancient wonders they could create.” He lifted a hoof, tapping her necklace gently. “I’ve never found another object quite like that. Could you imagine what it would do for diplomacy if we could get designs for that a unicorn craftspony could recreate?”

He flipped through the book, back through several more maps. Instead of having just a few dots, there were dozens of them now, spread across the land she thought was Equestria. “According to this, there was a time when hippogriffs lived all across the world like no other creatures do today. They don’t have the same reference dates, but if I had to guess… the Windigos probably cleared them off of Equestria before moving on to pony settlements. But only their southern fortress survived, probably by retreating under the sea the same way they did when the Storm King attacked.”

“Okay, but if there were all these hippogriff settlements across Equestria, why isn’t any magic they had common knowledge to you. Shouldn’t ponies have found them over and over again? They should fill every museum.”

He patted her gently on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re… so naive sometimes, Summer. It’s adorable.”

She stumbled away from him, ears flattening and tail tucking a little. Just words, but she felt like she was in grade school all over again.

“Equestria is covered with ancient magic we don’t understand,” he continued. “Sometimes we don’t even understand the stuff we made. The Crystal Empire almost collapsed a few years ago because a baby threw a tantrum. Ponies just don’t explore much. We like staying home, staying comfortable.”

“I can see that,” she said, rubbing her head up against his shoulder. It was only fair she try and make him feel as embarrassed as she had. Though it didn’t seem to be working. “That’s why you built this little airship all on your own and went flying off to explore the world.”

“Always exceptions,” he said, not pushing her away. “But that’s not my point. My point is…” He glanced around once, up the stairs towards the helm. But Emerald wouldn’t leave it. She might be young, but when she said she’d do something, she meant it. He spoke quieter anyway. “You said it seemed like the hippogriffs were trying to hide their own history, right? Like they’d been… censoring their library.”

She nodded. “And when I was in court, they didn’t seem much more willing to talk about it. I don’t know if it’s embarrassment, or fear, or what.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why they’d do it, but we don’t have to let them. Athemis has been abandoned since before Celestia took power, maybe longer. There are stories about all the wealth still buried there from before their empire collapsed. I don’t care about gold, but think of the devices. If we can recreate their artifice, then we’ll do more for Equestria than Feather ever could. And… probably learn the answers to those questions you were wondering about.”

She would’ve agreed no matter what he asked. Summer was happy to be here with him, where she actually felt like she belonged, instead of sacrificing years of her life to see some numbers go up on a bank account. “Will it be… dangerous? There must be reasons creatures have never gone back to this place, right?”

“No idea,” he said. “I don’t know what made creatures abandon it, so it’s hard to say if that would still be a threat after all these years. It’s going to be cold, as cold as Sleighsburg, but we’re prepared for that. We’ve still got all the jackets and boots packed.”

“Alright,” she said. “Just… remember, we can’t go back through the doorway forever. The experiment that opened it in the first place closes when winter ends on my side. We have to get back by then if you want to see my world.”

“We won’t miss it,” Sharp promised. “It’s not far out of the way. We’re only looking for the really interesting stuff. The… hippogriffs probably wouldn’t be happy if they found out we’d gone through and completely dissected the place. We’re just looking for information.”

If I’m going to be coming back to life anyway, it would be good if I can come back with more than a few awkward questions. A little delay can’t hurt. Considering how difficult the trip south had been, a little detour to investigate some old ruins seemed safe enough. There still wasn’t any sign of Feather coming to kill them. It couldn’t hurt.

Athemis wasn’t as dramatic as Mt. Aris. There was no massive spire protruding from the ocean, visible for hundreds of miles around. If it had been anything so obvious, pony ships probably would’ve found it long ago, even if it was further north than most ever sailed. Instead it took Sharp careful reference of the sextant and hours drifting over the ocean before they saw anything at all.

It mixed evenly with an ocean surface covered with chunks of frozen ice. As Summer stared over the edge of the Horizon’s railing, she first thought it was just another iceberg, one of many that filled the ocean so far north. Whatever Kate’s mad take on environmental protection, she was right about the pristine environment here in Equestria. The ponies weren’t taking chemical steps to speed the end of their ice age.

“It’s not an iceberg,” Sharp said, as the Horizon began to descend. Past the clouds they had to fight the currents of upper air, which pushed them away from the ruin. He offered Summer his scope, which she took in one claw.

One day I’m going to figure out how you hold things with a hoof.

She stared down at the ground, and sure enough what she thought was just ice actually seemed to be ice-covered structure. It was a stone fortress, coated anywhere that frost could form along its outer surface. Rather than perched into a natural crevice in the cliff as Mt. Aris, this building seemed to be the face for a larger structure, cut into the sea rock behind.

She passed the scope back. “But how do we get in?”

Sharp stowed his scope away in his belt, grinning at her. “This is the kind of adventure stories are made from, Summer. We drop down low through perilous winds, then anchor into the ice. And pray we drive the anchor deep enough, or else be stranded on an ancient building to starve.” He slammed the altitude control down, and they began to dive. “I think I see where a balcony used to be. If I get us down there, I can shatter the ice.”

Emerald turned towards them, watching Sharp with concern on her face. Her thick jacket was already covered with frost, which had condensed in her mane and frozen it. For all that, she didn’t seem to notice. She’d been born in this cold, it didn’t chill her the way it did Summer. She’d thought the icy rivers of home were cold before, but… they were nothing compared to this. “You’re enjoying this too much, Sharp. I know you, you wouldn’t do anything that risky.”

“You’re right,” he said, not taking his hooves from the controls. With one he brought them down in a steep dive towards the island, or as steep as a lighter-than-air vessel like the Horizon could manage. With the other he used the wheel to fight the wind trying to drive them back. “Because I have an excellent apprentice. If we do get swept away, I’m confident she can steer the Horizon back on course.”

Emerald’s face twisted into a mask, somewhere between pride and anger. “Hold on. Are you just trying to get me not to come with you? I want to see the ruins too!”

“You can see them,” Sharp promised. “Summer will take you after we scout them out first. Somepony needs to stay back on the ship. I’ve been studying the ancient hippogriffs, and they’re Summer’s creatures. Besides, do you want her to do it? Remember what happened last time Summer flew the Horizon?”

Summer shoved him with a claw, hard enough that he winced, turning to smirk up at her. Even so, she didn’t actually argue. Leaving Emerald behind was the smartest move, and not just because she knew how to fly the Horizon better than Summer did. The ruins of an ancient city really might be dangerous.

“I wish I could’ve asked Skystar about this place,” she muttered. The closer they got, the more she realized this island wasn’t actually smaller than Mt. Aris. It might not be as high, but it was still impressive. Big enough to build a whole city, instead of just a distant lighthouse. “She might’ve been able to tell us why it was abandoned.”

Sharp didn’t look at her this time, or even glance away from his flying. The lower they got, the more unpredictable the winds became. Summer dug her claws into the deck by reflex so she wouldn’t go anywhere, but the ponies couldn’t do that. “Depends on your source,” Sharp said. “Pony historians usually say it was the Windigos. We already know they were here, and there’s no reason they wouldn’t be hostile to everyone. Except… I don’t think that’s the whole story. Hippogriffs don’t have tribes, so I’m not sure what could create the strife needed to feed them. Maybe they got enough power feeding off the disagreements in Unicornia and the other ancient kingdoms that destroying the hippogriffs was easy for them.

Or maybe they just made up their tribes. We’ve never had much trouble inventing reasons to fight. “Just so long as we aren’t going to be ‘unleashing an ancient evil’ or something by visiting. I’m… not super clear on how all the impossible things work. But that seems like the kind of thing you find in a dead city that no one ever visits.”

“I don’t think so. Nothing in the stories like that. I think if there was going to be ancient evil in Athemis, it would follow the hippogriffs south. So we’re safe. Except that… lots of the old ruins in Equestria have traps and things to keep the ancient treasures from being stolen. If there’s anything like that, we’ll probably just turn around.”

Landing was a tricky business, so Summer stayed away from Sharp while he was actually figuring that out. Instead she found somewhere to sit by the edge of the ship, where she could keep an eye on their clearance with the ruins and make sure they didn’t tear the gasbag against the ice or anything else so catastrophic.

Sharp wasn’t just a skilled blacksmith, but he knew how to fly his airship. During the last few minutes, they moved painfully slowly, fighting a wind off the island that seemed determined to blow them away again.

“We have three mooring lines!” Sharp yelled, tossing one of them to the deck in front of Emerald. “Can you fly in this much wind? I need you to get it over there.” The thick rope ended in a metal anchor covered in wicked-looking spikes. “Drive it straight down, then twist the back! It should spread out into the hole and hold tight!”

Summer could only watch as the child fought the wind to fly back and forth with each anchor line. She should’ve been able to help—she was mature, and her wings were much larger. But even after a little practice at Mt. Aris, she knew the instant she took off she’d get thrown away from the island like everything else, and probably freeze once she hit the water. Unless she hit ice instead and just broke her neck.

The Horizon fought, and so did Emerald, and after almost an hour of furious flight, they finally stopped moving.

Emerald landed on the deck a few meters from her, then flopped sideways, panting with effort. “I did it… master. All… three.” Bits of snow and ice fell away from her wings, piling up around her.

Sharp patted her once on the shoulder, before making his way past her to one of the lines and pulling on it. Not too hard—even the strange properties of pony hooves had their limits. But the line held. “You did great, Emerald. The best apprentice I could hope for.”

Summer hurried over to her, removing the flask she’d been carrying and unscrewing the lid. “Here, I made some hot chocolate while you were flying. This will help warm you up.”

“Hot… what?” The filly sat up, but she seemed too weak to argue. She gripped the flask weakly, pouring its contents down her throat. Steam rose from inside, billowing around them in the arctic air. “Oooh, this is nice. Why haven’t we had this before?”

She shrugged. Because Sharp’s too lazy to make it and drinking it reminds me of home. “I can’t believe you haven’t had hot chocolate before. Living in the cold the way you do, I don’t know how I’d survive.”

“Let’s get her belowdecks,” Sharp suggested. “Then we should get down as quick as we can. I know it doesn’t feel as intense anymore, but I don’t think the wind is ever going to stop. Sooner or later those anchors are going to give. Best get our exploring done before the island can get rid of us.”

Summer stuck out a hoof, waiting until Emerald had finished drinking before lifting her gently. She might’ve just done an incredible task for them, but she was still a bird, and a kid.

She carried her up against her chest, feeling just how cold Emerald had become, how much her heart was racing from her mission, and settled her into the window seat.

“Keep the fire going,” Sharp urged. “And I know it’s hard, but don’t fall asleep. Watch the lines at all times. Even one of them should be able to hold us… but we’re not taking risks. Blow the horn if you see even one give out. And don’t try to put it back. We can’t risk you being separated from the Horizon. If they give out, just take the controls and fly back.”

“Okay,” she said, ears flat to her head. “I, uh… are you sure I can’t come? This sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sharp said. “Probably you’re already done for the day. We’ll only be gone an hour or two before we’re back. If that goes well, and the anchors seem to be holding, we can make a longer trip tomorrow.”

Emerald nodded. “I… I think I can do it. If there’s more of that hot chocolate stuff.”

Summer made her way to the range, pouring the last of it into the flask and offering it back to the filly. “Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll do better if we get fresh supplies. With real milk and marshmallows, it would be better. But the peppermint does pretty well to mask how powdered everything is.”

Sharp waited patiently for her to finish, before offering her a jacket. “Let’s get down there,” he said. “Time to find some answers.”

Chapter 37: And the Dark

Summer stared down off the edge of the deck, adjusting her scarf under the jacket and flexing her wings one at a time. The Horizon couldn’t moor alongside the balcony as Sharp had first wanted, not with the wind blowing so fiercely. If the wind ever did stop, they might smash the gasbag up into the jagged ice, and they’d be stranded.

For humans this wouldn’t have been much of an issue: they could toss a rope ladder overboard and climb down with primate grace. Summer’s flying might not be great, but she was fairly confident that she could direct a downward glide enough to land on the icy outcropping below.

“How are you going to get down?” she asked, watching as Sharp folded a section of the railing. “I know your hooves are magic or whatever, but there’s no way you can climb a line.” The wind was near-constant, forcing her to yell every word. On days like this, she never would’ve left the observatory’s protective walls. But it didn’t seem like waiting would help much here.

Sharp didn’t answer, instead opening a compartment in the deck and lifting a mechanism inside until it clicked into place vertically. Rope was already coiled around it, along with a harness on one end. There was a crank on the other, and a thinner line with something like a handle on the end. “Getting down is easy. Getting back up is where things get buckin’ hard. You’ll probably have to crank me back up. Ten meters or so… should be doable. Hippogriffs are stronger than they look.”

She glared stubbornly back, but didn’t argue. She was too tense, so all she did was perch on the edge of the deck and watch as he slipped into the harness. Sharp would be carrying most of the weight—his saddlebags had the only tools they’d be bringing. Even their moving on the edge of the deck made the Horizon strain against the lines a little. Far below, ice rumbled in protest. Whether one of those lines was about to snap at any moment, she couldn’t say.

She didn’t jump to glide herself, waiting beside the mechanism as Sharp edged over the side of the deck, then walked backwards into open air. The rope spooled out for him in gradual clicks, lowering itself slowly without any input. She kept one claw near the crank anyway, ready to catch it if it dropped him. But it didn’t, and soon enough he was waving from the icy floor below.

Summer backed up a few steps, then took the railing at a running start, spreading her wings and angling down towards the ground. She was a bird, she was aerodynamic, made for this. Even so, she felt like she was swimming upstream, with the air shoving her back with all its might. She flapped, and the wind pushed. If she didn’t make it, the ocean waited two hundred meters below, filled with shallow rocks and sharpened spires of ice.

She landed a few meters from the edge, her claws digging and scraping into the ice before she finally came to a stop. Her wings shook, but she couldn’t keep the proud smile from her face as she hurried to catch up with Sharp. I actually did it. That was almost flying this time. At the rate she was improving, she would probably be able to take off and fly on her own right about the time she went through the Doorway and gave up her power to fly forever.

“Nice!” Sharp wrapped a hoof around her shoulder for a moment, before tossing the harness aside. “You’re getting so graceful, Summer. A year from now, and nopony will be able to tell you haven’t been flying your whole life.”

Is that a compliment, or…? She turned away so he wouldn’t see her embarrassment, scanning the surface of the ice under their hooves. “You sure there’s any way to get into this place? The whole city might be frozen, then how would we get anything out?”

“Then we’re bucked,” Sharp said flatly. “But I doubt it is. It wouldn’t have been any warmer when they built this place… if the Windigos were ravaging Unicornia, then it was probably colder back then. It will be protected from the ice. Even after all this time, it’s going to have… mechanisms in place. You saw the Doorway—the same creatures built this place. They understood engineering as ponies are only now learning to match. The traps they left behind in some of their oldest creations are still working thousands of years later.”

“That last one probably isn’t a good thing,” Summer said ruefully. “For us, anyway. I’m not Indiana Jones. I just want to know how our worlds were connected.”

They walked along the surface of the ice for a good few minutes, with nothing but the ocean behind them and a constant slope to remind them of what would happen if they lost their grip. Summer followed directly behind Sharp, digging her claws in with each step even as they went numb with cold. They didn’t seem to be stiffening much the way her hands would’ve. Bird limbs just didn’t work the same way.

Eventually Sharp pointed at a patch of unusually dark ice, looking eager. “I think we’ve got a way in!” He stopped, resting against her while he fished around for a metal icepick. “Being an earth pony might not have gifted me with the variety of abilities a unicorn can conjure, but that doesn’t mean I don’t put my talents to use,” Sharp said, securing the saddlebags again. “Now, get ready. I have no idea what will happen when we break our way in.”

“Then how am I supposed to get—”

He swung, and the ice under their hooves began to crack. She watched the cracks spread from the point of impact, a thin spider web of lines that groaned and grumbled for a few moments before finally giving way.

She spread her wings by reflex, though it did her little good. The space was so tight that she couldn’t do much to slow herself down, only tumble into the gloom beside Sharp.

At least she couldn’t fall very far. Less than ten feet they fell, until she landed in an awkward heap against one wall, completely tangled with Sharp and half-buried in chunks of ice.

Sharp groaned, sitting up so soon he hardly seemed affected by the fall in the first place. At least he offered his hoof for leverage to help her pull herself up. “You know, in retrospect I probably should’ve realized the whole thing was going to cave in around us. You good?”

She flexed her wings in turn, finding herself only a little sore from the fall. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean… nothing’s broken. Might be sore in the morning.” She reached down to her mostly-empty saddlebag, removing the one thing she had that might actually help with something like this: her headlamp.

She flicked it on with one claw, grinning at the glow that surrounded them. There wasn’t much she hadn’t been expecting down here. An ancient icy chamber, every surface packed thick with snow. There was a doorway leading sideways, positioned well up the wall.

“What did I tell you about weatherproofing?” He hurried over to it, resting one claw against the door. It was only wood, and despite its age didn’t look terribly weakened. It lives in a freezer. Not too surprising. “All that empty space below the door… that’s not just to make it inconvenient to walk around. There’s a drain down there. And even with the drain frozen over, it stopped the door from getting blocked off. I bet you a dozen bits there’s a hallway that goes up on the other side, like a sewer trap.”

She made her way up beside him, nudging the doorway with a hoof. The wood wasn’t quite as strong as it looked, wobbling a little under her touch. “Looks like we can break through. Ready for what’s inside?”

“Nope!” He grinned, then shoved his shoulder up against the door with all his might. The old wood groaned, then shattered like glass, splattering all over the floor. Warm air blasted all around them—well, warmer air. It wasn’t like the heated interior of the Horizon, but it was enough to turn the ice in her feathers to frost.

“Interesting,” he said, sniffing deeply for a few seconds as he took it in. She did the same, fearing the worst. Maybe this city was abandoned the way Moria had been in Lord of the Rings, and it would be full of bodies. I should probably show him that movie. He’s ready for a little war.

But there were no bodies in the hallway, just a low arch that led up exactly as he had predicted, before going back down again. Into the gloom beyond, and God only knew what.

She made her way forward slowly, wishing irrationally that they’d taken the time to make a gun. Because of course a gun would be incredibly effective against the sort of traps most likely to survive for thousands of years. It was totally rational!

“Does your research say anything else about Athemis?” she asked nervously. “Aside from the name.”

“Uh…” He slowed for a moment, thinking. “It was supposed to be a jumping-off point for expeditions. A… center of learning. That’s why I was so eager to find it. Your necklace came from here, or I think it did. I suspect that may be why no bird recognized it.”

“You don’t reclaim the explorer’s outpost if you don’t want your birds to explore,” she finished for him. “They did send us with that message for Earth, though. Maybe they’re ready to start again.”

“Guess so.” He paused another moment. “Keep close with that light, but I should be in front. I’m an earth pony, I’ve seen us take spears without bleeding. Most of the old traps down here were made for other birds, I bet. They’ll bounce off me like nothing. But you…”

“I’m not Superman, I get it. You can go first.” It was where she’d rather be anyway. Summer wasn’t Indiana Jones. But being along for the ride was maybe a little more worth it.

They passed through several uninteresting rooms, filled with mundane objects and simple script on the wall. It seemed the top floors were used to store their basic supplies—which she thought was completely stupid, until she realized how this place probably got everything. This far north and in such an unfriendly location it wouldn’t be easy to grow much. They’d have to bring it all in from elsewhere.

“And you said this place was… how old? Over a thousand years?” At his nod, she continued. “Damn, the history of your world is confusing. You don’t have basic technology, but your ancient cultures could do more than ours ever could. Supplying a whole city out in the middle of the ocean. I’m not sure how we’d do it without commercial aircraft. Unless huge airships are a thousand years old too.”

“Nopony knows for sure, but… I doubt they were as impressive as today. The pegasus ponies had them first—towing clouds around with wing power. But hippogriffs could’ve done that too, so maybe.”

Despite his fears, they didn’t encounter any traps in the upper floors. Just a structure that could’ve come out of the human middle ages. Stairwells leading down were broken with large bulwarks of stone she took for checkpoints, several of which had collapsed and forced them to find another way.

Eventually the utilitarian corridors and tight stairwells gave way to something that seemed like it was actually made for someone to live in, with a floor of finished wood and regular mounting-brackets on the wall for something. Candles, maybe? It would take an awful lot of them to light somewhere so big.

“This place is huge,” Sharp muttered. “Makes you wonder just how extensive the ancient birds managed to explore. You don’t build a fortress like this unless you think you’re going to use it.”

“If the Doorway was the only one like it, you’d think they’d put the fortress right there, instead of all the way out here.”

“There probably was something up there,” Sharp said. “Remember, they had cities all over, or at least… points on the map. I don’t know how big they were. But they didn’t survive, so we don’t have any way of knowing now. Unless we can find a records room or something in here. Some of their books might’ve survived, if they stayed dry enough. It’s plenty cold.”

They wandered from hall to hall, passing areas that had obviously once been bedrooms and living quarters, with ancient furniture that didn’t quite fit in any era she knew of. It clearly wasn’t built for ponies, judging from the claw-scratches on anything at the right height, and the high ceilings. So high that Sharp looked a little uncomfortable, eyes always scanning for danger that could be around any corner.

But the deeper they got, the clearer it became that his suspicions were incorrect. There weren’t traps, not even the broken remnants of them. Only more fortifications, some broken in ways that suggested they’d been used.

“I don’t understand,” Sharp said, after holding them up for almost ten minutes investigating a massive set of double-doors. “The creatures of this era were fanatical about protecting their creations. They were so hard to make that entire lifetimes of their best craftsponies would be spent to make just one, and they wanted them protected. But there’s… nothing here. Not so much as an effective curse written on the walls. Unless that necklace doesn’t work as well translating this language.”

“Pretty sure it’s working,” she said absently. “I don’t think they expected intruders. Maybe the soldiers stationed here were the trap. Getting past them was more than they imagined.” She nudged him in the shoulder, grinning. “For someone who hasn’t had this place try to kill him, you sound upset. Did you want the danger?”

“No.” He shifted uneasily on his hooves for a moment. “I just don’t know how to place this construction. It’s so utilitarian, but then the scale just makes no sense. Ponies could fly over our heads and not kick us by accident. Maybe that’s the point? Like… two lanes of traffic?”

“Maybe.” She glanced back the way they’d come, frowning deeply. “How long until we go back and check on the Horizon?”

“Let’s make this next room our last for the moment. We can go back and check on Emerald, then maybe you can take her back into a few upper floors a little later. Without any of the danger or treasure, she’ll probably get bored before too long.” He settled one hoof on the old locking mechanism, then twisted and snapped it cleanly off the door. He shoved, and the old wood groaned as it swung inward.

Summer froze in the doorway, staring down into the massive stone chamber beyond, its ceiling so high that her headlamp barely illuminated. Her eyes swept over an ancient, shattered mechanism, with all the complexity of the ancient arctic Doorway, a massive vessel with an inner cavity broken. Whatever this thing had been, it didn’t work anymore.

All around it were the bodies, pierced with arrows or gored with claws or slashed with swords. The cold had preserved them remarkably well, in many cases even freezing the pain on their faces when they died. Ancient armor of chain and padded mail, with a single knight in full plate dented and scratched by the blows that had finally shattered it and felled him. They had bright banners, and shields painted with house liveries, all faded somewhat with time. Even so, Summer was fairly certain she recognized a few.

But even if they’d rotted to dust, Summer would’ve been able to see the truth from the shape of the armor and the size of their weapons. These weren’t ponies, or even hippogriffs.

The frozen bodies staring out from around the broken device were humans.

“Sweet Celestia,” Sharp said, staring down with wide, horrified eyes. “What kind of monsters were the hippogriffs fighting?”

“Travelers,” Summer said flatly. “Remember when you asked what I looked like? These are humans. Or… were.”

Chapter 38: Where We Saw

Summer Ray stood in the doorway of a room full of corpses, trying to process what she was seeing. In some ways, this was worse than having Kate try to kill her, or even jumping out of a window. At least she only had to fear for herself then, instead of burning with the sympathetic agony towards these people and the battle they’d fought.

It was worse than anything she’d seen on film. These weren’t show-props, but real corpses, each one its own unique flavor of horror. Skin was shriveled and sunken, turned gray or brown and curling up around the hair. Fluids had leaked, then frozen, and bones were exposed from wounds or just uneven decay. At least it was too cold for maggots.

She made her way down the steps in a daze, ignoring Sharp’s restraining hoof as she looked between them. She wasn’t particularly religious, or she might’ve offered a prayer for these ancient dead. That made her more of an investigator instead, trying to make sense of a battle that had ended before the new world was even discovered.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Sharp called. “It’s probably not going to get us sick, not with this cold. But you don’t have to see this. Most creatures don’t do well in…” He winced, wobbling on his hooves. “Graveyards.”

He might be physically strong enough to knock down a door of solid wood, but pony constitution had its limits. Should she be proud that she could look at this without turning away? It’s going to be in my nightmares though. Emerald can’t see this.

They were so big. Twice her height, maybe more. She’d felt like she was big compared to ponies sometimes, but now that put her in perspective. It was like walking through a graveyard of giants. Fighting her sickness, Summer reached down and removed the camera for a few quick stills, catching as much of the room as she could. It didn't matter how much it confused her, there might be critical information here and she couldn't miss it.

“Are we sure the hippogriffs were the ones who built this place?” she asked. “Think about the ceilings, the doors. These people could’ve used the whole building. It’s not like the buildings at Mt. Aris had huge ceilings everywhere.”

He did his best to follow her, dodging between the dead with nervous hooves. His tail lifted high behind him, as though he was afraid it would brush against any of the corpses. “That’s an interesting theory, except it was on hippogriff maps. It supposedly held a great treasure, remember? More than the wealth of a king.”

“Maybe it did.” She gestured at the center of the room. “Look at these bodies. It looks like they were trying to protect this… thing at the center. They’re circled tight around it. Those fallen shields there, I bet… it looks like they were holding someone off.”

“Who?” Sharp’s voice was thin and reedy in the vaulted space. “There’s nopony here, Summer. Were they fighting each other?”

She frowned, circling the room as she searched for more evidence. Near the back, there were bodies without armor. They had only brown robes, but they carried heavy iron picks. Those might match some of the damage to the object in the center…

“I think I got it!” Without realizing what she was doing, she lifted into the air over the artifact, hovering there as she spoke. “Look in the corners and off to the side. Those are carts, and some of them have stretchers. I feel like… this has to be another Doorway. Given this evidence, I think we’re safe saying it goes to my world.”

“Sure,” he said, staring up at her. “The construction is the same as the one in the north, certainly. Maybe even more complex. A later design.”

“So, I imagine… there was an evacuation. The humans who lived in this fortress were fleeing back the way they came. These soldiers dead here were guarding the way. And when the battle was lost, these people in back broke the machine so that it couldn’t be used to follow them. They fought until the end.”

“But fought who?”

“Hippogriffs, I think.” She landed beside him, walking carefully back towards the open entrance of the room. “Look at all these arrows. Stuck into the door, all over the ground here… but not one body. I think the hippogriffs won this battle. That’s why there aren’t any of their dead here, because once they’d finished they could bury them properly. They abandoned Athemis not because of some mythical creatures attacking, but because it wasn’t valuable anymore.” She pointed at the object in the center again. “This was what they wanted. Without it, there was no point keeping creatures living somewhere so cold and remote. I should know, I’ve lived somewhere like this for months at a time. It sucks.”

Sharp frowned again, his expression pensive. “That’s an… interesting theory, Summer. It does seem to fit the evidence in this room. But even if it’s true, it only raises more questions than it answers. Why didn’t the hippogriffs fix the portal? What were Travelers doing here? Why were they killing each other?”

“I don’t know,” she finally said, settling back onto her haunches. “There are… plenty of lost land myths from this period in my history. Thule, Hy-Brasil, Kvenland… maybe they did exist, and we didn’t find them because they weren’t on our planet at all. They were here.”

But she was losing steam fast. This wasn’t a historical site—these were corpses, shriveled and rotten with bones exposed surrounded by pools of organic refuse that had to be their own blood. They’d died in agony, her own ancient cousins, fighting hippogriffs. For some reason. I’m gonna be sick.

She stumbled back from the room, flopping past Sharp and making her way out the door.

She leaned against the wall as she hacked and coughed, spewing her breakfast out onto the frozen floor. As it turned out, vomiting didn’t suck any less as a bird.

Next thing she knew, she felt a leg wrap gently around her shoulder, holding her close. Sharp’s body was warm even through his jacket, and she leaned against him without thinking. “I thought you were invincible,” he said. “It scared me a little, that you could see that without it getting to you. Guess we all deal with horror a little differently.”

She nodded weakly, wiping the slime from her beak and going for her flask. She emptied the whole thing in a few gulps, washing away the awful taste of bile.

“I feel like I was… putting it out of my mind for a bit there,” she said weakly. “Until I couldn’t suddenly, and…” She straightened. “I’d rather find a library, but this is big too. I don’t know what it means, but… I feel like it’s an important piece. When I was in the hippogriff court, they spoke about an ancient enemy, that had followed them here to try and kill them. They seemed convinced they would come back. That was why they didn’t send a whole expedition to Earth with us. They didn’t want to expose themselves too much and attract their old enemy back.”

“That might be important,” Sharp agreed. “But if Travelers were here, why doesn’t everypony know?”

“Maybe… they didn’t care much about ponies?” she suggested. “Maybe they really were fighting the hippogriffs. For some reason.” She glanced back around the corner, then felt her stomach protest again, and quickly turned around. “It’s been long enough, we should probably head back and check on the ship.”

Once they were walking, she continued, “What’s really weird to me is how different those people are. I recognize some of their symbols, they’re from a different part of the world than the one I thought was connected to Equestria. I don’t know when exactly everything happened, but…” She hesitated for a moment. “Those parts of my world weren’t connected back then. And if they did fight…”

She shuddered at the implications of a medieval Europe with mechanical crossbows and esprit de corps against hunter gatherers in the far north. If they fought, it wouldn’t have been a long war.

“We don’t have to figure everything out right now,” Sharp said. “With what we’ve seen… we can come back and look through this place with fresh eyes tomorrow. And probably after you’ve shown Emerald around a bit. I don’t want to tell her about that battle until we’re gone, though. No filly should see that.”

Summer didn’t argue the point. She wished she hadn’t seen it either.

They made their way back up the way they’d come, doing their best to follow the same paths. It wasn’t a maze, and it probably would’ve been a straight shot to the room if it wasn’t so old. But battle or time hadn’t been kind to the old place, and sections of stairwell and corridor had collapsed.

Summer heard it as they neared the top of the stairs, a distant rumbling that first sounded like the ocean. But as her ears finally settled on the sound, her eyes went wide. The Horizon’s horn.

“Listen!” she called, going dead silent and putting out a wing to stop him. “Can you hear that?”

It took his pony ears a moment, but then he tensed. “Oh buck. The walls… I should’ve realized we wouldn’t be able to hear it well through all that stone.”

They ran, galloping between rooms and hallways, following the chalk Sharp had left on the walls. They didn’t have that far to go, really—but it felt like miles as the horn sounded again and again. She could practically make out Emerald’s desperation as she used it over and over, begging for help that wasn’t coming.

Finally they emerged in the top floor, scrambling up the pile of ice and debris until they were out in the open.

The Horizon strained against a single anchor line, trailing the others behind it into the open sky. The wind buffeted the poor ship back, straining a little more against the rope with every second.

“Quick!” Sharp urged her forward, and she scrambled behind him, nearly slipping sideways off the ice for a second, claws scraping and tearing through it but stopping her from falling. It was a good thing Sharp had better footing.

He reached the harness moments later, offering the loop of rope to her. “Here, Summer. Get in.”

“Buck that!” She shoved it right back, wrapping it around him with the vastly improved dexterity of her claws. “Which one of us can fly that ship?”

Sharp grumbled, but stopped fighting and went to work with the buckles. “I guess you were flying earlier. You just didn’t want to tell anypony you could?”

“I… what?”

Off to their left, the single anchor-line snapped, whipping back around to smack into the roof with a terrifying impact. Sharp yelped as the harness ripped him away into open air, dragging him back with the Horizon as it finally lost its battle with the wind.

Meanwhile, all the stress they’d done to the thick layer of ice was finally enough. The floor began to slide away from her, off the roof of the ancient fortress. She backed up, squealing with terror, but she was much too slow. It took her over the edge, out into the angry gray sky.

She spread her wings as she fell, catching herself in the air and letting the torrent of ice and snow rumble past her. She was falling, or… no, she wasn’t. She was holding herself in the air, her wings moving in regular time. They were stronger than they looked, stronger than her size suggested should be possible.

Summer Ray was flying. Or… maybe “hovering” was a better description. The ocean wasn’t getting any closer. She tried not to think about it, for fear that she’d stop and start to fall again.

“Summer!” Sharp called, his voice fading as the Horizon fell away from view. “Summer, get aboard! Emerald can’t work the crank by herself! I won’t be able to fly back to you!”

Right. I can do this.

She wasn’t going to have much choice.

Summer turned, eyes narrowing as she focused on the retreating Horizon. It wasn’t flying away from her, but it wasn’t moving fast enough to fight the wind either. It probably could’ve been helping her reach it if Emerald hadn’t rushed to the crank. But she could hardly blame a kid for wanting to help him.

She began to fly, eyes widening as she realized she wasn’t as helpless as she’d feared. She was moving, the ship growing bigger even as her wings began to strain from the effort. Her body might be built for this, but she’d basically never used these muscles, and they were already starting to scream from the effort. If they gave out, she’d hit the ocean like cement.

But she didn’t give up, didn’t let herself look away from her goal. She wasn’t going to vanish into the ocean, she wasn’t going to drown here. She flew.

She scrambled up over the edge of the deck like someone who’d been lost at sea might climb up into the lifeboat, her whole body shaking from the effort. But there wouldn’t be enough time to wait. Emerald waved her wings frantically, face desperate. “Help me! Summer, he’s slipping!”

There was no time to be proud of what she’d accomplished. Summer darted across the deck, knocking over a crate of supplies and not caring that she was scratching up the wood. Poor Emerald strained against the crank, which was slowly twisting the other direction, the mechanism giving out at last.

Summer rose onto her hindlegs, then gripped the crank with both claws. It twisted her around for a moment, her hooves scraping along the deck—then she braced against a wall, and stopped moving. Her wings and back were still burning, but she hadn’t used any upper-body strength yet. She still had a little energy left. “With me, Emerald. Turn… now!”

The gears squealed and protested, and for a second she wondered if they’d lose this rope too, and Sharp would go careening into the ocean. But painful second after second, the crank held.

After what felt like an hour of agonizing struggle against gravity, one of Sharp’s legs poked over the edge of the Horizon. Summer flopped forward onto the crank, holding it in place with her weight. “Help him up,” she said, pointing. “We’re… almost through this.”

Emerald squealed, flying over to the edge and offering her hooves. She wasn’t terribly strong, particularly after using every ounce of strength she had to lift him, but he didn’t need much. Just a little leverage, and he finally managed to heave himself over the side, laying onto his back and gasping for air. His mane was swept back and covered with ice, and his whole body was shaking. He opened his mouth to gasp, but there wasn’t even any condensation in his breath.

Fuck he’s going hypothermic.

“Emerald, I need you to make sure we don’t crash. Can you do that?”

“I, uh…” She shivered. “Sure. Just drop some ballast, and we’ll rise. Nothing to crash into up high.”

“Perfect.” She bent down beside Sharp, pushing back one of his sleeves and feeling his leg. It should’ve been protected from the biting arctic cold by his jacket, but apparently not hanging over the ocean and getting whipped around for ages.

“Hey, can you hear me?” she asked. She couldn’t speak too gently, not with the wind still howling all around them. “Sharp, say something.”

The earth pony groaned in response, struggling to stand.

She pushed him back down. “No, I got you. I worked in an arctic research base. They trained us for this.” She bent down, removing his saddlebags and the harness, shoving them as far away from the missing railing as she could. She could only hope they wouldn’t go flying into the ocean.

Then she heaved him up onto her back—no easy task, considering they were about the same size. But she wasn’t going to leave him out here to freeze, no matter how much it hurt.

Summer clambered down belowdecks, moving as slowly and deliberately as she could. She couldn’t risk slipping and dropping him, but she did need to get him inside as quick as she could.

The stairs were hard, and she could feel her legs about to give out from the strain. She was a software developer, not a lifeguard. This was all much too intense for her.

Finally she made it to the sofa, and she could settle him down, removing his soaking-wet clothing as carefully as she could. Pony fur had done him one favor at least: clothes didn’t want to freeze to it like they sometimes did to human skin.

“I’m… not that bad…” he finally croaked, eyes watching her groggily. “You were out in it too. No… reason I shouldn’t be able to cope with it.”

She shrugged, removing the huge comforter from the bed and dragging it over. “I’d like to use chemical heat-pads for this,” she said. “We had a hypothermia kit in the airlock of Barrow for cases just like this. This won’t work quite as well.”

“There’s… hot water,” he said. “In the shower.”

“Can’t do that. Heating you up that way can stop your heart. It has to be more gradual than that.”

She tossed her own jacket to the floor, then peeled off the damp thermals underneath before clambering in next to him and throwing the blanket over them both.

“I’m the warmest thing I can think of,” she said. It wasn’t quite what she’d imagined her first time in bed would him would be like, but at least now she was too invested in keeping him alive to be embarrassed about it.

“I thought you were… a scholar.” He turned slightly towards her, cheeks still sunken and colorless. She felt a brief flash of disgust as she remembered the bodies they’d left behind, now trailing away as the wind pushed them. “How do you know all this?”

“I was a scholar with a sense of adventure,” she countered. “Now stop squirming. At least you don’t have any fingers and toes that might have frostbite.”

Chapter 39: The Truth

Summer stayed beside Sharp until he started shivering, and kept beside him until he stopped again. They might be species from the same planet, but there was no denying how much cooler ponies were compared to hippogriffs, even when they weren’t freezing to death. Probably the same comparison to birds and other mammals.

She found herself thinking back to that naturalistic comparison more than once, and all the things she might do under that blanket. The warmer Sharp got, the more his natural scent returned, and the more her mind and body confounded her.

You know he wants to, Summer. It wouldn’t be hard, whispered one side of her mind, while the other reminded her. You’re a man, and you will be again. Do you really want to promise him a relationship you won’t be able to continue?

Ultimately she didn’t have to decide at all, because Sharp’s fatigue won out. She resisted her own, though in her mind she’d done far more physical work than he had. She slipped out of the blanket, and hurried up the stairs out into the cold air.

It was like a cold shower to clear her mind, and drive off thoughts of the things she didn’t want to do. Honestly she didn’t.

Besides, Emerald was back at the helm, her hooves settled up against it like she might start freezing soon too. Summer hurried over to join her, wrapping a protective wing around the filly. “Hey, sweetheart. Great job up here.”

She whimpered, clinging to her and shivering. But she was still warm enough to shiver. Of course, she grew up in this cold. This is her world, she’s not a foreigner here.

It wasn’t cold the child was feeling, but overwhelmed. Summer held still, letting her whimper and cry and muttering little words of encouragement. “You did great. Your master’s safe. We’re going to be fine.”

“I don’t have a clue where we went,” she said, as soon as she’d recovered enough to speak again. “The wind has been going pretty good since we, uh… blew away. It might be hard to get back to that island.”

Summer nodded. “It’s okay. I would’ve liked to get a good look, but… we learned a lot. The trip was worth it. It’s not fair a filly like you has to carry so much. You did fantastic.” She scooped her up onto her back, sparing a few moments to check the instruments. Altimeter was stable, and compass suggested they were drifting west. Towards Equestria, or the same continent as Equestria anyway. Ostensibly the correct direction, though they were so far north they’d be far away from any settlements.

And hopefully any chance of Feather finding us. Sharp did something when they were sleeping for the night sometimes, a way to fix the helm into a heading using the compass and the complex mechanical device beside it. But Summer didn’t know how it worked, so she just switched the engines cold. Best save fuel if they didn’t know where they were going.

“Let’s get inside. You can take a nice warm shower, and when you’re done we can do a movie before bed.”

That made her light up. “Your tablet is charged again?”

“Enough,” she answered. “With this much wind, it might be fully charged. But it will have the power we need for a few hours of watch time, anyway.”

While the filly used what little hot water their tank could produce, she made dinner and hot chocolate, working as quietly as she could to not wake the resting Sharp. If he rose, he didn’t say anything, not until Emerald emerged wearing a towel, and looking far less strained.

“I smell that chocolate stuff again!” she squealed, bouncing her way into the kitchen. “You made more?”

Summer nodded. “I won’t do it that often. But I felt like doing something familiar after a hard day. Nothing’s better than hot chocolate after being out in the cold. Dinner’s not exciting otherwise, just more canned stuff and some apple preserve. But I’m starving, and I bet you are too.”

Unfortunately there weren’t any canned fish—she probably should’ve thought of buying some before leaving Mt. Aris behind. Too late for that now.

By the time they sat down to eat, Sharp joined them at the table, haggard but looking much better. She couldn’t see any signs of frostbite to his skin anyway. Glad we caught that in time. I bet Equestria isn’t very good at skin grafts and corrective surgery. “I made you some,” she said. “You should probably eat too. More the better.”

They ate in relative silence, with the weight of exhaustion hanging heavy between them. Sharp glanced out the window once, then back to her. “We’re still moving. Bucking strong current we found ourselves in.”

Emerald looked like she might correct his language, but then thought better of it and just turned away. “I’d say the fortress might’ve been cursed. Like… this is its defense or something.”

“Not likely,” Sharp said absently. “We think it’s a human fortress, and they don’t have magic. Probably not a spell.”

“What?” Emerald tilted her head to the side, looking confused. “Human, uh… oh! Isn’t that what you were called back home, Summer?”

She laughed weakly. “Not very often. It’s the name of my species. Like ‘pony’. But… I do think Athemis is a human structure. Or at least occupied by them later on. Hard to say for sure now that we’re drifting away at five knots.”

Sharp sighed into his meal, sliding the plate between his hooves. “It’s a terrible shame to leave so soon, but we probably shouldn’t turn around. If we use more fuel fighting this air-current, we’ll need to stop for more in Equestria before we reach Sleighsburg, probably in the Crystal Empire. I believe we left the Empire with a bomb last time we landed, so I’m not keen on repeating the visit.”

She nodded. “Well, we have the map. You found it before, and you could find it again if we ever went back.”

“We,” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “We’re taking you back to your planet, aren’t we? Probably… won’t be making another trip after that.”

“Yeah.” She looked away, ears flattening. “You’re probably right. But just in case! Even if it isn’t me… really, the ones who need to see that place are archeologists. Those are some of the best-preserved medieval specimens I’ve ever seen. Their armor, their possessions… I bet there are museums back home that would kill for that stuff.”

“This doesn’t make sense!” Emerald declared, folding her hooves. “How do you know it was Summer’s creatures living there?”

“There were… signs,” Sharp said, meeting her eyes meaningfully. The message there was obvious—‘don’t tell her.’

But those big eyes turned on her in an instant, and Summer knew she wouldn’t stand a chance. She didn’t even try. “There were a few left behind,” she said. “Bodies, I mean. I guess there wasn’t anywhere to bury them out on the island.”

“Oh.” Emerald shivered, all curiosity vanishing. “That must’ve been hard.”

Sharp glared across the table at her, but it was mostly a lie, so she hadn’t really done what he didn’t want, right?

“Yeah,” she said. “Really hard. I’d want to tell their families if they hadn’t been here for hundreds of years. So… probably not anybody left to tell at this point. But there’s one thing that’s been bothering me, Sharp. Maybe you have some idea.”

“Maybe I do.” He waved a hoof noncommittally. “You can ask. I don’t think I’m half as clever as you are, though. Most of what I have is just… experience.”

She ignored the jab. “They were still human,” she said, holding up a claw. “Notice anything different? Our time together would’ve been pretty different if I still looked like them.”

“Oh!” He slapped himself in the forehead with a hoof, eyes wide. “It was so obvious, I… I almost missed it completely. The doorway changed you and left them.”

“It must’ve been… something different with the way they traveled,” she said. “Maybe the thing they were guarding was another doorway, but we’re assuming there. It might just be a machine made by the same people. Whoever… those people were.”

There were still no answers forthcoming on that. The middle ages might’ve contained a wealth of mechanical innovation and battles that captivated the European imagination, but that didn’t translate to machines that not even modern science couldn’t replicate. Which probably relied on magic, which should disqualify any human creators outright.

“We’re taking on a rather severe burden, solving all of this,” Sharp muttered. “The kind of thing normally reserved for princesses and their apprentices, not regular ponies.”

“I thought you said you weren’t like regular ponies?” Emerald said slyly. “If I wanted to be your apprentice, I’d have to be different too. I’d have to know I’d never have one home and I’d spend my whole life traveling.”

He grumbled, folding his forelegs on the table. “If you hadn’t saved my life today, I’d be upset with you. But since you did, you can keep sassing me until the end of the day. Tomorrow, though…”

She grinned innocently, looking satisfied.

“I wish I thought we’d have the time to learn more,” Summer said. “But we have to get back. Maybe the people on the other side will want to finance an expedition.” She glanced at the saddlebags hanging on the wall, with the camera still inside. “Those pictures are going to turn heads.”

I’ve got to transfer those off before I give the camera back. Let’s not scar the kid for life. Though there was probably something to be said for dead creatures of another species not being quite as scary. She’d seen vegan propaganda videos of slaughterhouses that didn’t stick with her nearly as much as the battle would.

“And if they do, maybe you’ll come back and lead them,” Sharp suggested casually. “You are more familiar with our world than almost anyone else. And the only other Traveler here… probably won’t be open to the idea.”

She grinned in spite of herself, seizing on the opportunity like a lifeline. A way for her to selflessly sacrifice for Earth, while not giving up what she’d found here. She’d already been prepared for long missions away from home, after all. She’d still be at Barrow Observatory on winter shift if she hadn’t been sucked away to somewhere better.

“That sounds… brilliant,” she said. “I could get a few more of my things—lots more movies… and we’ve already got this ship. Not sure how many people would volunteer to come here knowing they’ll look the way I do for the duration.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sharp said, his own grin turning mischievous. “If they all look exactly like you, I’m not sure how I’ll know which one is my marefriend.”

She should’ve felt sick, embarrassed, maybe frightened. But that wasn’t what she felt. They’d gone through hell together, and emerged on the other end. She liked this adventuring thing. And if she had to have a few awkward conversations with her family about what she’d be doing for the enlightenment of mankind, then… she could do that. They didn’t have to know she’d gone native.

I should still wait until I know for sure. We still don’t know if they’ll ever let me come back. If I step through… I’m taking that possibility into my hands. Assuming it even worked. Fate might still solve this problem for her.

Sharp was staring at her—Emerald too. She could see his worry—he hadn’t known how she’d react, and she’d turned pensive and silent. She nodded, forcing a smile. “You know what I mean, Sharp. They’ll be hippogriffs. Maybe girl hippogriffs? That might explain the other portal all on its own. Those knights never would’ve come to the secret world through the portal if they had to be girl-birds when they got here.”

Rather than explain what she meant by that to poor Emerald, Summer occupied herself getting the movie ready. It wasn’t like there was anything different about it, they only had a few. Probably not Lord of the Rings after all, considering what they’d found today.

But despite all that, Summer felt good. The food might’ve been powdered, but the cabin was warm, and the company was warm too. Not only that, but there was the promise of a way to visit home and not lose touch with Equestria. A remote possibility perhaps, but she could cling to it. Now we only have to survive the rest of the trip.

The next morning dawned cold on the Horizon, with the little coal burning stove that warmed them having finally ran out during the night. Summer crawled out of bed to light it, and found the couch where Sharp slept already empty. Curious. She refilled the stove from the bunker on the bottom floor, then slid her scarf off the peg and hurried up the stairs to search for Sharp.

He wasn’t hard to find, manning the helm with his various navigational tools all around him. They clearly weren’t going to be doing anything today, not with the sky so cloudy that the sun was only a vague blob.

“Summer,” he said, wiping the thin haze of snow from his face as she approached. “That name feels almost comical up here. I don’t think Emerald had even seen the summer until she came down with us. Her idea of warmth was a soggy cold ground with permafrost only a little deeper.”

Something’s bothering you.

Summer approached cautiously, settling onto her haunches on the other side of the table. She glanced briefly down at the navigational chart, and wasn’t terribly surprised by what she saw there. Instead of the line of thread representing their path, there was a circle sketched, with question marks lining the rim. Below the Horizon was windswept tundra, with occasional copses of reedy evergreens. The same sort of landscape he’d flown over for hours on his trip into Barrow.

“I guess there are some good things about coming with us, then,” she said. “I’ve been living up north for months now, and I don’t know if anybody really likes it. Maybe the natives do… but she’s not really a native either, she’s a pegasus. Ponyville would be much kinder to her.”

“Yes.” Sharp stared out over the horizon, his expression still dark. “But I wonder… I wonder if I’ve involved her in something terrible. I’ve been thinking since last night, and I… I don’t like what I’ve figured out.”

“Okay.” She gestured with one claw. “Tell me, Sharp. If it’s something I did, I deserve to know.”

“Not something you did,” he said. “But something you are. I can’t study hippogriff history the way I have without knowing… They’ve been running, basically forever. They have this ancient enemy, one they won’t even name in most of their books. The Chevaliers. It never meant anything to me, but now it does.

“I think we saw them yesterday, fortified in Athemis. It looked like… like ancient hippogriffs had to fight them to keep Equus safe. They won, and sealed them away. If Travelers were the enemy that hunted them…” He looked sick, leaning on the edge of the helm for support. “Made clothes out of their skins… I thought that was all just a scary story, but now I’m not so sure. Using the doorway would be inviting them back into the world. I’ve seen what Kate is capable of… she sent ponies to kill us. What if the whole world was like that?”

“It’s not,” Summer said. “Look, I have no idea what happened hundreds of years ago. Maybe humans really were the enemies that hippogriffs are so afraid of. But it’s been a long time since then. Earth has a lot of problems, but it’s getting better all the time. And we wouldn’t invade your planet.” She crossed the table, using a claw to force him to meet her eyes. “Sharp, you know me. Have I been lying to you? I didn’t hide my fucking sex changing when I got here, and that was probably the most horrifying thing that ever happened to me. I told you how I felt about you even though it makes me all kinds of confused.

“I don’t know what my world was really like hundreds and hundreds of years ago. But the world I grew up in wouldn’t kill people to make clothes out of their skins. They’d want to visit and take pictures and cast you in our movies and go on wildlife tours. Some humans are terrible, but most are like me. We just want to… live. I told the hippogriff court that we wouldn’t invade, and I meant it. That’s just not the creatures we are.

“And besides that—I think you’ve got things backwards about that battle. Maybe those were some evil humans hunting hippogriffs for sport, but it looked like they were the ones to close the portal and keep the hippogriffs from getting to our world. That doesn’t make them seem like invaders. Those humans were willing to die to stop that artifact from falling into hippogriff hands. Or… their claws. You know what I mean.”

Sharp finally looked away. He almost seemed like he was in pain, glancing back towards the lower decks and Emerald, probably still asleep. “I’ve seen the hippogriffs,” he argued. “We went to Mt. Aris. We know they’re not evil.”

“Not anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t saying they were ever evil, Sharp. War is almost never as simple as a perfect evil vs a perfect good. But even if it was, it’s been centuries. Plenty of time for creatures to change. Can’t you trust me when I say it’s not going to be like that?”

He hesitated for another moment, before wrapping one leg around her in a tight hug. “You’re right, Summer. I’m glad you were willing to talk to me about this. I’m still not sure where we are. But I’d rather not feel like I’m flying into the end of the world.”

She giggled. “You’re not. But I wouldn’t mind flying into some fresher food. If I have to live on oatmeal and dried apples for another few weeks, I might throw myself into the ocean.”

“What, to fish?”

She laughed again, squeezing him once. “Never change, horse.”

Chapter 40: Somewhere Unexpected

The further they flew, the colder it got.

Soon enough it became clear that their strategy of avoiding Feather by staying away from civilization had a price—they couldn’t descend again without buying or finding gas, and so they never did. But not landing meant they had a limited supply of food, and an even more limited supply of fuel.

The little firebox struggled to keep the cabin warm against the blasting arctic chill, except when filled almost to capacity. But they were running out of coal much too fast to burn it that way.

That meant even the cabin started to feel chilly. Summer wore her winter jacket all the time, with the scarf wrapped securely around her neck. She’d be absolutely screwed if she blew off the deck, since it would mean she couldn’t fly—but at least she wouldn’t freeze. The others had to do likewise, spending their days moving as little as possible huddled in a cramped cabin.

There was at least one little mercy—as cold as it was, they all slept in the same bed, sheltered under as many blankets as possible. With Emerald there, there was no danger of Summer’s chemistry getting the better of her common sense.

Even Summer’s electronics started protesting from the cold, and she packed them away in her insulated box, which she left near the fire at all times. If any of that stuff froze, she couldn’t exactly send it in for an RMA.

They spent as little time outside the cabin as possible, and packed in extra fabric into the window-cracks and under the doors. There was no longer water to waste on showers, and no fuel to heat.

Just when Summer was beginning to doubt the wisdom of avoiding Feather so thoroughly, as well as wondering if they shouldn’t be traveling such a direct route—Sharp announced that Sleighsburg was finally coming into view.

“We’re not actually going to land there,” he said, shutting the door closed behind him and brushing the snow from his mane. “You both remember what happened last time. I think Emerald could probably go back safely, but not us. Hopefully they don’t think it’s worth it to send an expedition out to attack us if we don’t mess with them.”

“What about taking off again?” Summer asked. “Won’t we have to vent lots of our hydrogen to land?”

Sharp looked away, ears flattening. “Well, that package from the hippogriffs is heavy. Between that and giving up one of our passengers… it should be enough. Worst case, I can lose the portable workshop, it’s heavy as buck. Can fly back up here for it once things have settled down.”

“Oh.” She rose from the kitchen table, making her way to the large windows at the front. Sure enough, she could see the strange shape of the Doorway on the horizon. A mountain, but not. Her road home. She clutched the necklace tighter, squeezing the pearl once for reassurance. Its magic was still there, entirely unaffected by the cold. Too bad she couldn’t use it to turn into a polar bear, or something with thicker insulation. “Guess it’s finally time. You ready to see another world for yourself, Sharp?”

He smiled weakly at her. “Seeing Mt. Aris was its own kind of adventure. I’d say I’m ready for another.”

“Me too!” Emerald exclaimed, shaking herself free of her nest of blankets and pillows. She was the only one who didn’t wear her jackets inside—either being a pegasus or a lifetime in the north made her less sensitive to the cold than either of them. “I’m going, Master. Don’t even try to say I can’t. It won’t work.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, smiling ruefully. “But not yet. I need you to prepare to winterize the engine. There’s no telling how long we’re going to be gone.” He tilted his head to the side. “Summer, if our trip does go successfully, would we be able to obtain hydrogen gas on your side? Or hydrochloric acid and fine iron, if that’s available.”

“Either one,” she said. “You’re going to be… astounded, by what our machines are like, Sharp. Everything you’ve ever seen from Feather will be like cheap toys.”

“I am eager to see it,” he said, though he didn’t sound eager for much of anything. And Summer couldn’t blame him. She knew exactly what he was feeling. I don’t want this trip to end. Why does there have to be a buckin’ time limit. We could’ve made excuses to travel all over the world, see amazing things. Spent months investigating that castle, weeks more reading from the library in Mt. Aris. Maybe even met the real rulers of Equestria.

Some part of her knew that when she stepped back through the doorway, she’d be saying goodbye to everything she’d done here. No more hippogriff body, no more magical world. No more being female, for all it had been more of a frustration than a desire. No more exploring the ocean, or magic of transformation. The doorway back to Earth would take away everything she’d been given, including her friends.

I shouldn’t let them come with me. What if they don’t get changed into humans, and they end up in some zoo somewhere? Or worse, they might end up in some US government black site, the kind of thing you heard about on conspiracy channels and in bad movies. Summer hadn’t believed any of that before, but now she was a magical bird that could turn into a fish, so all bets were off.

But if I send Sharp away, then I won’t be able to explore the world with him. There was still that dream, too good to be true. She could be the one to document this side, so that no one else had to be transformed. She already had the lay of the land. Maybe Equestria would extradite Kate back to the US and make that problem go away while they were at it.

“I’m going to put us down about a quarter mile from the Doorway,” Sharp said, zipping up his jacket again. “Summer, if you’d like to join me on the deck? I’ll need you to be ready to get us nailed down. Hard enough that the Horizon doesn’t go anywhere while we’re over there.”

“Sure.” She gave Emerald a quick pat on the shoulder, then hurried after him. She was already wearing the jacket, but she grabbed her scarf from the hook and wrapped it tight before joining him out on the deck.

No wonder the engines were working so hard today—the wind seemed as determined to blow them away from Sleighsburg as it had been to get them away from Athemis. Just like last time, they were winning. “I’m taking us down gradually!” Sharp shouted. “I don’t want to lose any more gas than we need! But we can’t drift into those trees, or we might puncture the gasbag!”

She didn’t need telling what that would mean. If they lost their gas, there would be no return trip. Sleighsburg had ships visit and they could probably get one down south—but the villagers might just decide they wanted to finish what they’d started.

There were no clouds, but the fierce wind below them whipped snow off the ground, lifting it in a sheet like a knife up in their direction. Summer wanted to get a better look at the Doorway, practically expecting the sky to be open with a portal back home even now—but so far, nothing.

Summer waited on the side of the deck, with a thick rope coiled over her shoulder. Then, when they finally dropped low enough, she removed the jacket and glided down to the surface. This time she hardly even thought about it—her wings knew what to do, catching the air and taking her down without difficulty. So long as she kept her angle squarely into the wind, it couldn’t turn her around and toss her into a tree.

She landed in a snowbank, swallowing her for a moment in fluffy white. She struggled and kicked and crawled her way to the surface, taking the rope with her. There’d be no spiking this line down, no chance of getting to the bottom.

But beside her was a pine thicker than she was, with healthy green leaves and a thin layer of frost coating its bark. The perfect subject. She tossed the rope around it, working her cold claws clumsily until she got the knot secure. If I never make it back to Earth, I can still thank that Barrow job for teaching me how to tie a knot.

Unfortunately, her first-time flying was a little harder to recreate when jumping just pushed her lower into the snow. She made her way over to the edge of the ship, waving her forelegs. “I can’t fly up! Drop me a ladder!”

She couldn’t hear Sharp’s response, but a few seconds later the rope ladder came down, landing roughly in the snow in front of her. She scrambled up, breathing heavily, and beginning to feel numb from cold. “How… many more of these do we have to do?” she asked, shaking her wings to dislodge the snow.

“Two if we were staying for an hour. For us… four. You don’t have to climb back each time, though. I’ll toss them down one by one, and you can just follow the ropes.” All that time he kept his hooves on the controls, fighting with the engines and the wind with barely-suppressed desperation.

Summer bit back her frustration, turning back towards the side. “Just point me… towards the next one,” she said. “I’ll… yeah.”

It took well over an hour to get them all secure. But by the time she was done, they were tied off so thoroughly that only the gasbag moved with the wind, and even that not very much. Summer flopped onto the deck one last time, with chunks of ice melted to her body in places and her wings completely numb. But she’d done it, that was what mattered. And her body was apparently better in the cold than Sharp’s. Maybe it was a bird thing.

“I’m not sure I’m… ready to go on today,” she said, rolling onto her back and looking up at him. The engines were silent now, meaning she didn’t have to shout. Even the wind seemed to be dying down now. Of course it would, now that we’re not trying to land. Nothing’s ever easy. “Do we have to go right away?”

“Nope.” He walked past her cranking the ladder back up and flipping the railing back into place. “I didn’t think we would. We’re all kind of… awful, from traveling. I figure we splurge the rest of our water and fuel to clean up for tomorrow. Either we can get supplies from your world, or… send Emerald back to her village to buy some. Either way, we can get more after this.”

His words lifted a weight from her shoulders. The experiment wasn’t going to end overnight—and neither was her time together with the ones she’d come to care about. “Is that… safe?” She glanced over the edge again, out into the wilderness. “I heard wolves last time I was here.”

He nodded. “There are wolves, but they can’t jump twenty feet, or climb trees.” He bent down, lifting her up onto his back. For all the struggle that had been for her, he didn’t even flinch. “Let’s get you inside. You can have the first shower, how about that?”

It was fantastic was how it was. She couldn’t lay down and soak in the heat the way she wanted, but even so the steam billowing around her and the chance to use the soap wet was like waking up after a long hibernation. Might be the last time I ever do this as a bird.

While the others took their turn, she cooked the best meal she could manage with the least-unappetizing cans they had left. One last jar of apples made for a decent-enough dessert, even if they didn’t have any hot chocolate left to wash it down.

Yet by the time everypony had taken their turn and was gathered around the table, Summer found the same awkward silence returning. The Horizon wasn’t rocking back and forth in its flight anymore, instead it twitched lightly with the wind, occasionally jarring from one side to the other.

Sharp didn’t even say a word until he’d cleared away his first helping. Emerald looked between them, obviously unhappy.

Of course it would be her who finally forced them to stop being silly. “Are you ready for tomorrow, Summer? Are you really… ready to go home?”

She shifted in her chair, but Emerald didn’t let her look away. The filly was determined. “Not really,” she admitted. There was no sense lying. She’d made up her mind. “But the experiment doesn’t last forever. When they shut off the field emitters, the thing that let me cross will be gone. I can’t give up my whole life.”

“We did,” Emerald whispered.

Stunned silence. Sharp looked like he was going to reprimand her—but he just stared back into his empty plate.

Emerald had been whispering, but now she got louder. More emotional. “My mom was… she was awful.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her foreleg, soldiering bravely on anyway, scooting away from Sharp so he couldn’t comfort her. “But I didn’t… I still had to l-leave. And Master Edge left his whole workshop behind! It took him years to build, all gone. I thought you liked us. You’re nice to me, and you like Sharp… why would you want to leave?”

Summer put down her fork. The slightly-sour smelling apples didn’t really excite her anyway. “I don’t want to leave you guys,” she said. “And Equestria… your world is something amazing. I don’t really want to leave it either. That’s why this is so hard for me, Emerald.”

“You don’t have to go back in person,” Sharp suggested. His voice was low, nervous. Like each word cost him. “You could write a letter to your family, send that instead. Your possessions came through when you arrived, so the reverse must be true too. We could make something so big that your… base… would notice.”

Summer shook her head. “I love my family too much for that. If I was locked away forever, that would be one thing. But I should be able to tell them goodbye myself. But… it’s not even really my choice to make.”

She rose from the table, pacing faster and faster. It was easier now that she didn’t have the jacket inside, slowing her movements. “Our universes are connected, Sharp. Yeah, you gave up your workshop—but remember why you set it up in the first place. You wanted to learn more about the Travelers, you wanted to visit the other side.

“Why should I be the only one who gets to come here? Why should no Equestrian ever get to go to my side? When the experiment ends, that’s it—we separate. Who knows what incredible randomness would be required for us to connect again? It might never happen. But if we go over there, then we’re making two worlds come together.

“And…” The most important part. “What I’m hoping happens is that they want me to come back here. I won’t be saying goodbye, but coming back to learn more about Equestria and send pictures home. It makes sense. We’re friends, and you’ve got this airship. We might have to travel together for… months more, maybe years.” She blushed, scratching at the deck with a claw. Normally she didn’t do that, but… she was getting distracted.

“You really think they’ll do that?” Sharp asked.

She met his eyes, fighting back her own tears. She didn’t want to let herself do it, not in front of Emerald. “I don’t know. It depends how big a deal it was when I went missing in the first place. What kind of authorities we attract when we get there? It might be dangerous for you two. Probably… would be better if you didn’t, just in case.”

“Don’t even think about it.” She hadn’t seen Emerald moving. But now she ducked in beside her, wrapping a foreleg around her leg so tightly that she couldn’t get away. “We’re going, Summer. If it’s dangerous, well… we went this far. We had to get away from Feather, we crossed deadly oceans. Do you really think the Travelers on your side will be worse than all that?”

Maybe. “No,” she said. “No, of course not. And… you’ll look like me. I think? I didn’t turn into a pony over here, so I’m not quite sure how it will work. Maybe you’ll be, like… elves or something. We’ll just have to make it clear how you’re ambassadors and stuff. Once it gets out that the first real aliens are visiting… well, you guys will be famous forever. You could go on tours, get book deals and… probably things you don’t care about.”

Sharp nodded. He approached her from the other side, wrapping his forelegs around her in a hug. The same thing Emerald was still doing, though he didn’t hold on for nearly as long.

“I’d trade all of that not to give up what we’ve built together, Summer Ray. After… the things we saw, I’m nervous to try and connect our worlds together. But I trust you. And if you think that’s what we should try and do, then… I’ll help.”

Finally he broke away, crossing to the lights and turning them down. “But not tonight. We’re about to be the first ponies to cross the Doorway, we should do it while we’re still awake. Also… we’d probably freeze on the hike over right now.”

“Yeah,” Summer agreed. “Tomorrow.” Tomorrow I’m going home.

Chapter 41: Then We Said Hello

Summer settled down to bed with confidence. Opening the Doorway again wasn’t going to be easy, but now at least they had the magic for it. So long as she kept her head under pressure, she should be able to keep her friends. The hardest challenge waiting for her would be dealing with the awkwardness of their differences in sex.

But in the end, she didn’t wake up rested with the dawn, ready to approach this last and most difficult challenge. Rather, she found herself yanked painfully upright out of bed, before she’d even fully processed what was going on. She gasped and strained, squeaking with protest—but the only result was a muffled yell.

She squirmed and kicked in the dark bedroom, suddenly aware of many shapes around her. Something held her down, something as big and strong as Sharp but without any of his sensitivity and care. “Stop struggling.” Glass shattered, wood crunched, and things fell over, before finally she rolled over and got her first real look at what was going on.

There were half a dozen figures in the room with them, with dark jackets and masks on over their faces. Worse, every one of them had a long knife, and a few of them had drawn them. “Sharp!” she squealed, reaching back towards the bed. But it was no use. She’d been bashed about so badly that she couldn’t say which way was up anymore.

“Stop fighting,” grunted a voice. A second later, she felt something sharp press in by her neck.

She fell instantly still, holding rigid. “Alright, I’m done.” Her voice shook, but she managed to get those words out at least.

“Smart bird,” the voice croaked. “Well, maybe not as smart as you should be. We shouldn’t have found you here. You could be living in luxury in Manehattan or Baltimare. But that’s not what you chose.”

Another set of hooves wrenched her back, wrapping her wings in cord before hobbling her forelegs together. From the grunts of pain behind her, it seemed her friends were suffering the same fate.

“Don’t hurt them,” she whispered. “Please, they have nothing to do with this. I’m the one she wants.”

How did she know we were here? We didn’t stop anywhere!

Then again… they didn’t actually know Kate would’ve been waiting for them at any of the cities along the way. Theo had mentioned the experiment had a set time-limit. I’m a fucking idiot.

“You’re going to follow,” the voice said gruffly. “If either of you get any ideas, the filly gets hurt. So play nice, alright?”

Outside, the sun hadn’t ever quite gone down, and leered on the horizon like a disdainful eye. At least Summer caught a glimpse of Sharp following behind her. Curiously, he hadn’t been tied, and ponies around him didn’t have their weapons drawn. Must be an earth pony thing. The threat against Emerald is what keeps him from trying to escape.

And behind him, Emerald slunk along. Her wings had been tied, but like Sharp they hadn’t bothered restraining her. What danger was a child her age, who couldn’t even fly? Apparently none they were worried about.

She caught one look at her desperation, before the pony escorting her shoved her into the deck. She slid along its icy surface, stealing any warmth she’d recovered the night before. “Keep moving!” they grunted. “Eyes front, bird.”

Getting down was its own kind of adventure. Some of the earth ponies just leapt the entire distance, landing in the snowdrift without much effort. But without her wings, she could only struggle down the ladder, using her bound forelegs to cling desperately to each rung.

She didn’t land at the end so much as flop backwards into the snow and ice, shivering all the way. “You… didn’t have to take Emerald,” she muttered. That took bravery enough, even if the knife wasn’t at her throat anymore. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

Out in the light, she could get a look at the pony guiding her. A massive earth pony stallion, even taller and thicker than Sharp. He wore a mask on his face and cloth over his cutie marks, but the rest of his brown body was visible easy enough. There were a half-dozen other grunts out here, each one dressed the same way. A few had jackets and scarves on as well—the single unicorn in the group was so thickly bundled she couldn’t tell if they were a stallion or a mare.

“She’s the reason you aren’t going to do anything to us,” her guide barked. “Your friend there is Sharp Edge, I don’t want him hurting any of my stallions here. And you—you’re a shapeshifting predator. Can’t be sure with your kind.”

“You work for one of ‘my kind’,” she snapped, before she’d had the chance to think about what she was saying.

The pony kicked her again, sending her sprawling into the snow. She slid half a dozen meters before finally coming to a stop, completely soaked and aching.

“Stop it!” Sharp yelled. “We’re cooperating with you! You don’t need to hurt her!”

She rose to shaky feet, hobbling weakly back towards the group. In the dim light overhead, she could see a path cut through the snow, probably made by the raiders as they walked towards the airship. They’d compressed the snow down into something traversable. She walked with a limp as she made her way back, eyes down.

She didn’t argue again.

If there was a single mercy about this kidnapping, it was their destination. The brutes were taking them directly towards the Doorway. She might’ve asked about why, seeing as this was the one place Kate wouldn’t want them to be. Didn’t she hate this thing, and want it never opened? Why would she bring them to exactly the place Summer needed to be?

As they got closer, a cluster of white tents came into view, surrounding a well-appointed high north camp. The forest all around had been cleared, and racks of logs were packed near a large fire as they dried. For each brute who had come to kidnap them, there were another few ponies here doing more mundane work. They seemed to be breaking down the camp before her eyes, packing away furniture and collapsing tents one by one, rolling them up onto the empty sleds. They kept their eyes down, pretending not to see them.

You know what your boss is doing is wrong. But she paid well. Apparently well enough for these ponies to ignore their conscience.

To her surprise, they didn’t walk into the camp, but straight towards the entrance to the Doorway’s inner workings. The ice had been completely carved away, and inside were a dozen powerful work lights, illuminating everything with a steady magical glow.

“Get in,” her escort barked, and she dodged a kick this time to hobble through the entrance. She slowed a little as she stepped inside, eyes going wide with horror as she saw what Kate had done.

The mechanisms were undamaged, the enchantments apparently intact and untampered-with.

Instead, Kate had packed almost the entire space with explosives. She’d never seen the likes of those large barrels before, weeping an oily fluid from within. But the nature of those thick fuses left no doubt in her mind. Each was connected to a central bundle, marked with little red wraps every half-meter or so. A measuring device of some kind?

Only the control area was clear, and it was there Kate waited for them.

She sat on a comfortable-looking camp chair, wearing a downy jacket and sipping coffee. She didn’t seem the least bit perturbed as her guards shoved them to the muddy ground in front of her, even poor Emerald. She finished her glass, tossing the metal cup aside. “Well, Theo, I hope you’re happy about all this. I hope you realize how unnecessary this all was.”

She wasn’t the only creature down here—a few folding tables were set up around the controls, with heavy-looking Feather electronics piled on them. Radios and speakers and other things Summer couldn’t easily identify. There were a few more ponies hunched around the machines, watching them carefully.

Most of their escort vanished out the way they’d come. Only four of the guards remained, each one armed. One kept beside Summer, while the other three surrounded Sharp. They hadn’t even bothered leaving anypony by Emerald, who still lay face first in the mud.

“Kat.” Sharp’s voice was pleading, desperate. “Please, stop this. I know how passionate you are, but… sending a ship to kill us? Dragging a filly through the snow? You’re better than that.”

Her face hardened. “I wasn’t talking to you. If you’re so confident, say something like that again, and see what happens to her.”

Sharp hung his head, and didn’t answer.

Kate nodded approvingly, then turned back to Summer. “As frustrating as you’ve been, there are at least some positive outcomes to be celebrated here. This last month has been an absolute slog, studying this ancient machine. You wouldn’t believe how frustrating old magic can be sometimes. But now you’re here to make all that go away.”

She reached out, extending a claw expectantly. “Give me your necklace, Theo.”

She gasped, clutching at it with difficulty. “B-but… My Ponish is… barely grade-school.” She looked sidelong at Sharp and Emerald, pleading. But of course there was nothing they could do. They were only here because of her.

Kate was completely unmoved. “Well, whose fault is that? You’ve been here for five months, and you didn’t learn more of the language. Pity. Now give it to me or I’ll tear it off. Your choice, Theo.”

She doesn’t care about the necklace. It’s the pearl she wants. Theo whimpered, then lifted it up off her head, tossing it through the air towards Kate. There was no way to fight her, not with all these soldiers around. “What’s the point of taking that? It looks like you’re going to destroy the portal anyway. My pearl won’t work for you.”

“I can’t transform with it,” she said absently—her English was smoother than last time, as though she’d been practicing. “Do I look like I want to be a fish? Honestly.” She strode towards the controls, removing the pearl from the necklace as she went. She tossed the metal aside like trash, then carefully settled the pearl into place. It began to glow brilliantly, light spilling from between the mechanisms all around the room. Above them, gears began to turn, shaking free of rust and dirt and raining down debris on them. But she didn’t actually turn the controls that would begin the process.

“Why are you opening the portal?” she asked, tearful. “Are you going to send me back? Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, actually.” She turned to the side, barking something to her technician. Summer caught the word “wait” and “talk” along with the untranslated “radio”, but the rest was just noise to her. The magic was stolen—she really couldn’t understand them anymore. With a few more commands, the guards snapped alert, ready for something.

“You probably won’t enjoy the trip,” Kate went on. “There are certain steps we need to take, to make sure this door closes for good. Your meddling already drew too much attention. Since they wouldn’t listen to my warnings to shut everything down, we have to escalate.” She turned to the guards, and this time the command was simple enough that she could understand it. “Bring them.”

Summer didn’t struggle, but little Emerald did, rolling past the guards and onto the floor near the controls. She ran desperately, like she was going for the doorway on the other side of the building. Without success. None of the guards were watching her at first, but that soon changed. One of the pegasus ponies leapt for her, pinning her to the ground with a tackle and holding her there until she stopped struggling.

Summer didn’t understand his threat, but the tone was obvious enough. They dragged her at the head of the group, dripping with snow and mud, finally out into the opening.

“At least there’s poetry in it,” Kate went on, as they circled around towards the bottom of the ramp. “You created this nightmare by drawing attention to Equestria. You contaminated our worlds. Now we end the loop. If I’d thought to bring one, I’d send you back wrapped in a pretty bow. Shame, but it wouldn’t survive the explosion anyhow.”

They began climbing the ramp. Summer soon saw exactly what Kate meant—there were more crates piled here, near the edge of the platform, with their own fuse. Oh god. Kate’s plan came to her in an instant. “You’re going to… send us back with a bomb, destroy the experiment on that side. Then destroy the Doorway on this side too.”

Of course, there was one obvious flaw in the plan, something that Summer wasn’t going to point out. It might be the only loophole she could use to escape. She couldn’t see the point to sending them through. If she wanted them dead, wouldn’t it be easier just to make sure herself?

Kate smiled with satisfaction, nodding to her. “Pity you couldn’t apply that intelligence to something more productive, Theo. I could’ve used an electrical engineer. In another fifty years or so we’ll have our first computers, and it would’ve been nice to have you around. You could’ve been my Wasniak. Now you get to be giblets instead.”

Fifty years? But there were much more important things. The guards didn’t seem interested in getting anywhere close to the ramp. They shoved them forward, then backed away once they were on the stone. One had a crossbow, and he waved it threateningly in Emerald’s general direction. The message was obvious, even if he didn’t say it.

Kate alone was unafraid of the Doorway’s magic, and began to advance towards them, forcing them to retreat towards the bomb waiting near the top.

“I changed my mind,” Summer snapped. “I’ll do everything you say, Kate. I’ll forget about Earth, give you all my stuff. You can blow up the portal, I won’t stop you. Just don’t kill my friends. Let them walk away, please.”

Kate clucked her tongue. “Too late for all that. Your boyfriend here has friends who could be… inconvenient for me. But I’m not unreasonable.” She gestured, and said something to Emerald. Summer couldn’t understand it exactly, but the message was clear. “Come back. You don’t have to go.”

Emerald didn’t listen, instead backing towards Sharp. He yelled something incomprehensible in response, eyes streaming with tears… but Emerald ignored him. Soon enough she had settled between them, close enough to touch a hoof to Summer’s claws. When she lifted her hoof again, she left the necklace piled there on the ground, intact. No pearl, but… it hadn’t ever needed the pearl to work.

Summer snatched it with a claw, concealing it there as best she could. But they were still hobbled together, restricting her movement.

“Well, I tried,” Kate said. “If it’s any consolation, know that you die to make Equestria safe. The world I’ll bring will be one that guides its ascension into a technological future. Ponies will have lights in their homes, without smog in their lungs and poison in their rivers. People have died for worse.”

She turned, shouting over her shoulder. “Do it!” Summer didn’t need to put the necklace on to understand that. Nor was she confused when she started yelling at another technician, holding a sputtering torch. She gestured at the slope, and the pony took only faltering steps.

When the ground started shaking under her hooves, she knew exactly what was happening. The air all around her felt suddenly charged, her feathers lifting with the static.

All at once, the aurora came crashing down around them, spectacular greens and blues and purples in a ribbon that went from one end of the horizon to the other. And in that light, an opening appeared. There was a tower, covered with machines so massive and complex that Summer gasped. There was not one tower anymore, but three, connected together with cables as thick around as a truck.

The ripple in the air tore wide, from a few feet across to fifty, then a hundred. Wind roared around her, a torrent pouring upward. Snow fell into the sky, spiraling around in a whirlwind.

The incredible force didn’t care what it grabbed. Crates of explosives, chunks of rock, or birds.

Summer dug her claws into the stone, and her wings were tied closed—Kate was fighting over a torch, and her wings were spread around her in her frustration. She squealed in horror, flapping futilely as she was drawn up into the air. The torch fell away, landing with a hiss in the snow. Emerald went next, much too small to resist. Sharp tried to grab her, and soon he was lifted up into the air too. He might be incredibly strong, but there was nothing to hold onto, nothing strong enough to protect them from the vast rift swirling overhead.

Summer relaxed her claws at last, pushing off up into the air after her friends. The Doorway was already shrinking, the vast energies they’d summoned closing in as the light of the aurora faded. Summer kicked out desperately beneath her, as though it would make a difference… and she passed through into eternity.

Chapter 42: To Somewhere New

Theo was lying in the snow. He couldn’t have said how he got there, or what he’d been. He couldn’t say much of anything at first, as his body adjusted to the apparent beating he’d just endured. For a few seconds it was all he could do to twitch and moan, trying to get up. There was motion around him, shouts and boots and many moving figures. More than there should’ve been.

God, what happened?

Memories were foggy to return at first. There’d been… a confrontation. Kate had been waiting for them, and… they were through. Somehow, impossibly, they’d still made it.

I’m home. Despite everything, nobody died. Now it’s time for the hard part. Kate had been the first to get sucked into the sky. They’d still have to deal with her, somehow. Should he be feeling bittersweet about coming home?

Only seconds passed there in the snow, however it might feel like hours. I should’ve expected this. Changing back was never going to be easy.

But then he sat up, and it wasn’t as hard as he imagined. He blinked, wiping away the snow with the back of an arm and getting a good look at himself for the first time.

Herself.

She’d landed in the snow at the base of one of the new towers, in a gigantic snowdrift just waiting for her. But there was nothing new to see—no embarrassment from being naked in front of his old boss, or anything like that. Summer looked exactly as she had five minutes ago, right down to the scarf and the necklace sticking out of the snow beside her. She snatched it with a claw, wrapping it around as tightly as she could.

She might not have changed, but Barrow Observatory sure had.

Previously the base was mostly empty space, with lots of temporary buildings spread far apart from the few older, permanent structures. But now she could hardly see the snow. There was a vast field of military trailers, generators, and APCs. Facing away from her was a barbed wire fence and a set of machine gun nests facing the road.

Before it had just been a computer shed beside the tower. Now the tower had grown a set of tumors on either side, with huge conduits running into the snow and out of sight. Their surface remained clear despite the falling powder, a sign that she probably shouldn’t touch them.

Barrels and crates hadn’t landed as softly as she had, and many of them crashed on the snow, spilling their powdery contents everywhere. They didn’t rain down fire and explosives on the camp—with the blowing snow and fierce cold, there were no open flames to set them off by accident.

I didn’t change back. The Doorway was supposed to fix me! The tears froze to her face as she looked back up the tower, searching for the opening into Equestria. But only the aurora remained above them, crackling with green and purple and no magic in sight.

Summer rose to her claws, shaking the snow from her feathers and scanning the space around her for Emerald and Sharp. They’d been right beside her, so hopefully… yes, there they were. They’d landed when she did, without much sign of catastrophic impact. Maybe the portal had done that intentionally, rather than just dropping them to fall to their death. She wasn’t going to complain either way.

“Hey.” Summer reached down, gripping Emerald by a foreleg and lifting her up out of the snow. “That was some seriously brave stuff you did, sweetheart. Maybe you should’ve just run away.”

The filly’s eyes were glazed over as she looked back, confused and maybe a little overwhelmed. Then she spoke, and Summer could understand little. “Thank… Summer…”

Duh! I’m not wearing the necklace! Summer tossed it on. “Sorry, forgot. Thanks for saving it for—”

Emerald still looked confused. When she spoke again, it was still mostly incomprehensible. “Summer… can’t…”

Her eyes widened in horror, and she snatched the necklace off again with a claw, searching for damage. But she could see nothing different about the metal. No missing links, nothing broken. Kate hadn’t damaged it, not as far as she could tell. It just… wasn’t working anymore.

She soon had other things to worry about. The distant sound she’d been hearing wasn’t just her imagination. A line of towering figures approached from the side, wearing black and white digital camouflage and carrying insulated rifles. They closed in quickly, forming a dense ring around the towers. “Do not move!” several voices yelled, echoing across the snowy clearing. She couldn’t see even an inch of skin—were those gas masks? What in the hell did they think was going on?

Summer dropped the necklace, putting up her foreleg reflexively. She’d never had one gun pointed at her, let alone a dozen of them. “Don’t shoot!” she yelled back. “We’re people!”

That didn’t catch them as off-guard as she might’ve expected. She couldn’t see eyes under their polarized goggles, but none of them were quaking with terror or surprise at seeing their first aliens. Or worse, attacking them.

She didn’t have to imagine how Emerald would feel seeing such a thing—she huddled close to her, shielding herself from the gigantic, loud creatures. Twice my height. Why are they so big?

Sharp said something next, shaking himself free of the snow on her other side. But Summer didn’t catch a word this time. Apparently none of the soldiers did either.

“Remain where you are!” yelled the same voice as before. Summer saw him this time—he was the only one not actively aiming a weapon at them. Instead he held a portable computer, wrapped in rubber against the elements. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

Something else emerged from the snow half a dozen meters away—Kate. She shook off the snow, looking around in horror and shock. Then she turned, not for the soldiers, but for her. “You fucking bitch!” she yelled. Either she didn’t see the soldiers, or she didn’t even care, because she charged.

Summer backed away in horror, nearly tripping over her own claws in the snow. Kate might not know how to fly, but she wasn’t hobbled, and she sure knew how to run. Her beak snapped and glittered in the white floodlights, and Summer had no doubt in her mind what she’d do with it.

Then Sharp smacked her in the face, a single blow that sent her soaring through the air in the other direction, to land in the snow a few feet from the line of soldiers. “No… hurt… love,” Sharp declared.

The little army glanced between each other, understandably confused by all they were seeing, and apparently not knowing what to do. Soon enough, a pair of figures emerged from the distant buildings, jogging across the gravel path towards them. Both wore suits instead of military gear, though they had the same model of gas-mask as all the soldiers. One carried a silenced handgun in her hands as she ran, the other a radio.

“Got word as soon as…” He trailed off, lowering the radio. “God in heaven. After all that, we finally get something out of those damn towers.”

“Emitters are down again as you ordered, sir,” said the one Summer guessed for their officer. He spoke quietly, but with the masks in the way he couldn’t do it quietly enough for Summer not to hear. Her ears were just too good.

“Keep them that way,” he said, pushing one of the soldiers aside and stepping through. “Stand down, men,” he said. “Don’t shoot unless they run.”

At once, men and women in bulky uniforms snapped to attention, no longer aiming at them. Summer relaxed, and at her relief Emerald chanced a glance outward. She whimpered and closed her eyes again, muttering something about monsters. “They’re just masks, sweetie,” she whispered. “They aren’t really that scary.”

But the pony didn’t show any sign of recognition. She’d dropped the necklace, where was it?

“Unless I’m very much mistaken, one of you is Theodor Pichler,” said the man in his dark suit. Already snow was melting onto his sleeves, and his tone shook with cold. “I’m freezing my balls off out here, so I’d appreciate it if you just told me.”

“Me,” Kate croaked, emerging from the snow and shaking herself out. “These criminals—”

“No she isn’t!” Theo barked, easily louder than Kate could manage. She hadn’t just been earth-ponied into the ground, after all. “I’m Theo. Ask her one thing about computer science and see if she can answer, go ahead.”

“No need,” the man took another step forward. “You’ve got a German accent, she doesn’t. I’d love to learn what the hell is going on, and why there are barrels of… is that gunpowder?” But he didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’d like to have this conversation somewhere more comfortable. If you would follow these polite gentleman, we have quarters prepared for you with proper biohazard isolation.”

“Sure,” Summer said. “We’d love to come out of the wind. But… that’s probably not necessary. No one here is sick.”

The man glanced back towards his partner, who shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

He turned away, waving a dismissive hand. “The doctors can work this out. I’m not paid enough to make first contact in a blizzard.”

“You heard the man,” said the officer, filling the opening he left in the circle. “Each of you is an extreme biohazard risk to the people of this country. As such, you will be escorted at all times. Do not attempt to escape, and none of you will be hurt. Is that clear?”

“They can’t understand you,” Summer said. “The horses can’t, I mean. They’re actually aliens.”

“You can,” he said, not skipping a beat. “Tell them, then.”

She turned to face the two of them, prying Emerald from her side. The filly backed away, scratching awkwardly at the floor and not looking at her. But Summer didn’t think the soldiers would be terribly patient while she explained. “We go with them. No run, no hurt.”

Sharp nodded, expression darkening as he glanced sideways at Kate. She was recovering from the blow, evidently not enough to do any permanent damage. She glared daggers at them, but didn’t attack again. “Necklace?”

Summer shook her head sadly, then held out her forelegs to him. “Untie me?”

He reached her in a few strides, bending down with his teeth. He bit clean through the rope like it was licorice, spitting the pieces aside. “Cheap rope.”

“That’s enough!” called the officer. “Biohazard team is already going to be put through hell sterilizing this place. Let’s not make their job any harder staying out here, please.”

Summer turned, gesturing for the ponies to follow. She didn’t much care what Kate did, though she kept as far from her as she could. If the bird attacked her again in close quarters, she was probably a better fighter than Summer.

But Kate didn’t resist either, and soon they were following at the center of a circle of soldiers. They kept their weapons at the ready all the time, but not aiming at them. Apparently they cared a little about the diplomatic angle here.

They didn’t have very far to walk—a large temporary building waited not far from the towers, with fortifications facing towards it on all sides. None had soldiers in them now, though that looked like it was changing already. Spotlights shone towards the building, which had a good fifty feet of clearance on all sides. More like a prison than accommodations.

The building had multiple entrances, one on each side. They headed straight for one, and the soldier opened it with a complex key. A massive metal door, probably bear-proof from the inch-thick steel. Probably earth pony proof too.

Lights came on inside, along with a wave of warm air. Not a cell at all, but a comfortable-looking apartment. Except that there were no windows facing the outside, and only the armored door.

Summer slowed beside the stairs. “We come in peace,” she said ruefully. “We’re not going to hurt anyone.”

“Tell that to the other one,” he said, glancing at Kate. “Looks like you’re not even at peace with each other.”

She wanted to argue with him, but he was so tall, and she was mostly naked in the snow. It was ultimately a waste of time—he wasn’t the reason they were getting locked up, he was just following his orders.

Could’ve been worse. They could be dragging us off to get dissected in a lab somewhere. She hurried inside, not wanting to be anywhere close to Kate as they passed through the doorway. She might try to claw out her throat or something, if she was going to stay as violent as before.

Once inside, the differences with the comfortable apartment she thought they’d been walking into were obvious. There might not be windows to the outside, but one of the walls had been replaced with a solid plexiglass barrier. Low chairs were set up near a device obviously meant to pass messages to the other side, along with an acrylic box with openings on their side and the other, a little like she might’ve seen in an inner-city bank.

“You’ve fucked up now, Theo. I hope you’re happy.”

Summer turned, staring at the bird with her mouth hanging open. “Are you bucking serious right now? You were going to kill me, and probably lots of other people in this camp. Go for us again if you want. Sharp and I won’t stop at just one blow next time.”

She puffed up her chest, wings flaring to either side and beak exposed. It was all instinct, just daring Kate to fight.

But maybe the other hippogriff was finally calming down, or she’d just discovered common sense.

Summer backed towards the center of the room, near the chairs and the communication device. Sharp and Emerald followed, with Kate backing as far into the corner as she could.

“You’ll regret this,” she muttered, glaring daggers at them. “I’m going to make you—” Then she looked up, and fell abruptly silent.

The massive metal door slammed shut behind them, then clicked locked.

“Summer, I don’t know what I imagined when I said I’d come to your world, but I don’t think it was this,” Emerald said from beside her, tiny voice speaking in flawless English.

Summer blinked, retreating a step from her.

Sharp did too, staring in shock. “You… spoke like them!”

“English,” Summer agreed. “How did…”

Her eyes caught the glint of metal around Emerald’s neck, and suddenly everything made sense. She had picked up the fallen necklace again, and this time she’d put it on for safekeeping. It was made by hippogriffs who visited other worlds. It doesn’t let a human speak Equestrian, it lets an explorer speak the language of the land.

Of course there were flaws with that idea. Like, why English? Why not German, or the native language of Alaska? Did mystical artifacts care about state borders? Would it have helped her speak Russian before it was sold to the United States?

She might’ve worried about such concerns, if it wasn’t for the more obvious, practical tests. “Emerald, can you understand me?”

The filly nodded. “Of course I—” Then she trailed off, eyes wide. “Oh. That’s strange.”

Summer hugged her momentarily, though she kept one eye on Kate at all times. “You’ve been wonderfully helpful, Emerald. I’m going to, uh… I’m going to borrow that for a moment, okay?” She wrapped her claw around the necklace, but didn’t pull it off.

“But then I… oh.” She glanced sideways, to Sharp. “Of course. My master needs to understand. You can take it.”

“I promise to explain everything when we’ve figured it out,” she said. “Or Sharp will. Somepony will.”

“I thought we were supposed to look like you,” Emerald whispered. “But I don’t know if I want to anymore, if you look like that. With those… scary mouths, and glowing eyes.”

“They don’t look like that normally,” she said. “They’re wearing magical armor, so they… stay warm. Look.” She gestured at the glass, where a door was just then opening on the far side of the room. “You’ll see. We look different, but we’re not that scary.”

She pulled the necklace up and off Emerald’s neck, walking towards Sharp. “Put this on,” she instructed. A simple command, one he probably would’ve understood even if she didn’t know enough Ponish to say it. But he’d been watching the entire exchange, and he was far from stupid.

Sharp slipped it on swiftly. “Say something, Summer. Anything.”

“You’re speaking English,” she said. “Welcome to Earth.”

Relief spread across his face, and he flung his forelegs around her, squeezing her for several long moments. “I thought they’d taken this away! That I’d never understand you again…”

Then something moved on the other side of the glass, and he broke away. Just in time to watch the two figures in suits walk inside.

The other side of the apartment wasn’t a perfect mirror—it was much smaller, with just enough room for a table and a few chairs. Other than a computer station off in the corner, there was nothing else on that side.

At least Summer’s prediction proved true. They weren’t wearing armor as they came in, and Emerald didn’t react with horror when she saw their faces.

A man and a woman as Summer had guessed, both middle-aged. The woman wore glasses, and a large gun was clearly holstered inside the jacket of her suit.

They made their way up to the glass, shaking off a few stray drops of moisture before the man finally pulled up a chair. He seemed to be nodding towards its opposite on the other side. “Theodor Pichler, if you would sit down. We’d like to have a word with you, before we make introductions. Big day today… for both our worlds.”

She made her way over, claws feeling strange on the entirely normal carpet. She sat down in one of the chairs, and without prompting Sharp did too.

Sure it is. But which of those worlds is mine?

Chapter 43: With a Minor Setback

Summer probably should’ve been excited about this. In some ways, this meeting was everything she’d been waiting for, months of effort all focused on this single moment. She’d fought her way across Equestria, swam as a fish, and now she was back home.

Except… she wasn’t home. I need time to think. I need to figure out what went wrong. But it didn’t seem the US military authority now running the base was very interested in giving them time to figure things out. Maybe if I ask nicely they can put Kate somewhere else. I’d rather sleep with a polar bear in here with us.

“I’m going to keep this brief for our first meeting, Theodor Pichler,” said the man, settling his tablet on the table in front of him. “I’m not the one with the authority to be making first contact or talking to aliens. I’m under the impression that some of our information might not be entirely accurate, so I’m going to try and rectify that as quickly as possible. You want to help me, don’t you?”

“I think so,” she said. “So long as you’re not going to hurt my friends. They’re the first visitors from another world, they deserve to be treated properly!”

“You don’t have to make it so dramatic,” Sharp chided. “I don’t represent anypony. You make it out like the princess herself appointed our expedition.”

The man’s eyes went up. “Your companion speaks remarkable English. You found yourself a… polyglot? Wait, don’t answer that. It isn’t important right now.” He glanced down at his screen again, as though quickly memorizing something.

“On behalf of the United States of America, welcome to Planet Earth. I apologize for the conditions of your arrival—but we’re operating on the best available information that your species carries very serious disease. The accommodations you’ve been given, and the caution of our first meeting were… products of that fear. If we determine that contact is not so dangerous, we will not need to give you such secure accommodations.”

Kate twitched, poking her head up from the side of the room. She was going through the kitchen, but by the look of it, she hadn’t found anything more dangerous than a fork. “You’re putting yourselves at terrible danger by leaving us alive! You should burn everything while you can! Take down the tower! It’s the only way!”

The humans stared at her for a few seconds, silent. Summer didn’t doubt that a dozen cameras were watching her right now. For all she knew, half the world was watching this moment. I hope not. It’s gonna be awkward as hell to tell my family I’m a girl now.

“I’m Agent Barton, and this is my partner Agent Foster.”

“You know me,” Summer said. “This is Sharp Edge, he can currently understand us. And Emerald Aurora, she can’t. But I’m sure she’d be delighted to meet you if she could.”

Behind them, Emerald was creeping slowly closer. She didn’t have a lot of safe places to go—apparently the humans through the glass, now with eyes instead of creepy masks, were safer than the one who’d tried to explode them.

Barton smiled faintly. “Well, I’d shake your hands, if I could.” He held one out towards the glass, pointing across the room at Kate. “She speaks like the person we’ve been communicating with via Morse code. But she’s not the one in the picture.”

He lifted up the screen, tilting it towards her. Summer stared through the glass, eyes widening as she saw what Agent Barton was showing her. It was a little polaroid photo, not terribly high-quality, but blown up to fill the whole screen. It was the group shot she’d taken on her second day, still dressed awkwardly and with Emerald and Sharp around her.

I had no idea what was coming. That was supposed to be my last moment in Equestria, but that wasn’t what happened. “How do you have that?” she asked, flabbergasted. “That was… I’d only been there a day. I’d just been transformed…”

“Clearly it beat you here,” Barton said. “Look, the ones who pay all the bills want us to ask about the most important question first. You hear what she’s yelling. That’s what we’ve been hearing for the last few months. Gruesome detail about the disease that infects every human being with total virulence. The list of symptoms she gave us… vomiting blood, organ damage, cancerous growths, anal leakage…”

He turned up his nose at that, frowning. “Could’ve put ‘spontaneous loss of major limbs’ and it would seem more realistic. But I can see at least something is true. You do claim to be the same Theodor Pichler who went missing nearly six months ago, right? And you realize he should look like…” He flipped through another screen, holding up the tablet again.

It was Theo’s staff ID photo, wearing a plain tan jumpsuit and looking incredibly bored for the camera. Did I really look like that? My whole body is so… squishy.

Even talking to these humans was getting annoying in its own way. They were incredibly tall, towering over her and her friends. Not with any particular malice, they were just… twice the size of ponies.

“That was me,” she agreed. “It wasn’t a disease. That woman back there has been lying to you since you first got in contact with her. She doesn’t want you to have anything to do with Equestria. Also, she’ll probably try to kill us any second. Do you think you could do something about that?”

Kate growled at them, advancing slowly from the other side of the room. It was a good thing she announced her presence, because otherwise Summer might not have known. “You have no right contacting Equestria. The world over there is pristine, undamaged by mankind’s greed and excess. The only moral thing you can possibly do is to send me back and forget you ever saw us. Then dismantle that tower for good measure.”

Sharp rose from his chair, turning to face her. “Put the fork down, Kate. You know it won’t hurt me—but if you attack my friends, I’ll make sure you don’t touch anyone ever again.”

She glared, then threw it straight at Sharp. He turned to the side, letting it smack right into him. It bounced off harmlessly, rolling away.

“Quite the demonstration,” Foster remarked, almost amused. “Not a terribly sharp one though, is she? If she wanted to make the case that you were impersonating her instead of the other way around, now would be the time…”

Kate turned away, settling down on the couch and pretending not even to look in their direction anymore.

Summer could’ve gone into everything she’d wanted to do, and she would if the gunpowder came up. But until then, she saw no reason to press the subject. There were more important things right now.

“The act of traveling to the other side is what changed me,” she explained. “There was no disease. No cancer, no discomfort. Other than… well, it made me female. I don’t know why.”

Barton nearly choked for a moment, as he tried to turn a laugh into a cough. From the sound of it, he ended up nearly swallowing a lung in the process. “I mean… I didn’t look, but I’m going to trust you on that, given the circumstances. You don’t know of any disease humans might be vulnerable to? Any… sickness you might be carrying, perhaps without even suffering symptoms?”

Sharp Edge answered before she could. “We’re all entirely healthy. We’ve been traveling entirely in isolation for over a month now, with no other contact with other creatures until today. My apprentice and I are healthy, and Summer seems to be as well.”

The woman lifted something onto the table, sliding it into the compartment between them. It was a white plastic box, covered with medical symbols.

“Last thing on the agenda for today, if you don’t mind, are some tests. We’d like to verify that no one is going to get space-AIDS.”

She shut the central compartment, sliding the little seal into place. Summer reached for the mechanism on their side, having to fiddle with it with her claws for a moment before she could finally put the right amount of pressure to get the knob to spin correctly.

“None of us are doctors,” Summer said. “I don’t know how to do a test. But do you think… could you find separate quarters for her?” She glanced over at where Kate lay. “She tried to kill us twice since we got here. Maybe put her… away from anything sharp?”

Barton nodded. “Already working on it. We’ll send someone to get her once the second trailer is prepped.”

“Just send me back,” Kate moaned. “I don’t want to be here, you don’t want me here… switch the portal on and throw me through. I’ll be out of your hair after that.”

Summer raised a wing, blocking her from the window. “She has people with explosives on the other side. If you send her back, she’ll be able to destroy the thing that makes the portal work on that side. You’ll never get through again.”

“Bitch,” Kate hissed. “You had no right to be there. Equestria would be better off if you drowned.”

She didn’t rise to it, not with Barton and Foster still watching. If Kate was going to keep acting like this, it would probably be better for them. You’ve spent so long on top you don’t know how to act when you’re not in control. Just keep making yourself look like an idiot, please. We’ve almost got this back on track.

Summer pulled the box through the opening, then clicked the latches on either corner and flipped it open. The inside held various swabs and vials, along with a few kits she’d seen before, but never used. For taking blood.

“I’ll coach you through the process,” Foster said, taking Barton’s place directly in front of the glass. He rose and backed away, muttering into his radio. But there was no way to hear him, not when he spoke so quietly. “Oh, you’ve got talons. That’s good, this would be a lot harder for the, uh… horses? Is that what you’re called?”

“Ponies,” Sharp corrected, without anger. “We call ourselves ponies. I’m an earth pony, and Emerald is a pegasus. There are other tribes as well, but not with us.”

“Right.” Foster took the tablet, flipping through it. “Well, I hope you’ll cooperate with us. These samples will allow us to make sure that contact between humans and… ponies… won’t make either of us sick. If this works out, then we should be able to meet more properly.

“Clearly some things are alike, since you’re breathing our air just fine. There’s a wide variety of foods in there—if you get hungry, I suggest eating only a few bites, then waiting at least an hour to see if you start feeling sick. It won’t be fool-proof, but… it should stop you from dying of a fatal allergic reaction.”

Summer lifted a vial from inside the kit, turning it around in a claw so she could see the barcode. “You’d be amazed at how alike our worlds are. I don’t think our food will get us sick. They even have lots of the same plants and animals. Just… bigger. Smaller?”

She turned back, looking up at Foster. “I thought I’d be coming back as myself. But if there’s one warning you need to put in your notes, it’s that traveling back doesn’t reverse it. This transformation seems to be… permanent.”

Foster shrugged. “Understanding how all that works is for people with four or five degrees. But if you’ll follow my instructions, I’ll walk you through how to get those samples…”

It took well over an hour, and hardly an enjoyable use of her time to boot. Foster wanted more than just a few swirls of DNA from her cheeks. She wanted blood, feathers, fur, and more. Summer had never drawn blood before, let alone located the veins on unknown anatomy with fur in the way that needed to be cleared.

Even worse, Sharp had to concentrate to even let the needles through. If he grew too tense, then his magic would stop the needle like trying to puncture a brick.

But even if he didn’t fully understand what they were doing, he was more than willing to cooperate. “It’s all in the name of diplomacy,” he said. And, “It’s just as important we learn humans won’t make ponies sick. If we can visit without danger, that’s something the princess should know.”

Summer had her doubts about whether the US military would share any of what they learned. Maybe she was just a conspiracy theorist, but she couldn’t help but imagine this secret military organization erasing all record of this communication and dumping them into a woodchipper to preserve the status quo.

Finally they were done, and a group of armed soldiers returned to collect the box, along with Kate.

“This isn’t finished,” she called, as they walked her towards the door. “I’m going to get back to Equestria. I’m going to protect that world no matter what it takes.”

Summer watched her go, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as the door slammed shut behind her again. It might be practically a prison cell—but at least they weren’t trapped with a murderer anymore.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Barton said. “I’m not sure if this will be the last time we talk. Someone with more authority is already flying this way, she should be here by the time we get the results of those tests. In the meantime, there’s a phone right there. If you need anything, please use it and someone will try and help. But we are thousands of miles from civilization, so the help we can offer is limited.”

“One thing,” Summer said, raising a wing. He seemed to get the message, because he didn’t have a chance to get up. “I’d like to see my family. Can you call them? You should have my contact information on file.”

Barton winced. “Right now, everything that happens at this observatory is top secret. Until someone with more titles changes that, I can’t help you there.”

“Could you at least… get me something to write with? I’d like to write them a letter. If something happens, you could at least deliver it for me.”

“Paper should be in there already,” he said. “Delivery… well, just write it first. Talk to the Secretary of State when she gets here.” They left.

Summer slumped forward, resting her head on the table and breathing heavily. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since she’d woken, but she felt so utterly drained… How many times had her life been threatened?

“We did it,” Sharp said, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “I can’t say our arrival on your world went quite the way I imagined, but… we did it.”

“Yeah.” She nodded weakly, rising to her hooves. “We should probably explain all that to Emerald. You’ve got a remarkably well-behaved apprentice to put up with it. Not being able to understand most of that…”

“More than that.” Sharp reached down, nudging the necklace with a hoof. “She’s the reason we were able to discover the strange new properties of this artifact. Without her, we might be struggling to communicate with your, uh… modest vocabulary of Ponish.”

She glared at him, then remembered just where they were standing. These quarters probably had a dozen cameras pointed at them. But it was also stocked with food by humans. She practically galloped over to the kitchen, opening the cupboards with reckless abandon until she found what she was looking for.

Microwavable popcorn, butter flavor and all. Summer squealed with delight, yanking the microwave open and turning it on. Her claws left scratches on the plastic, but she didn’t care.

Sharp followed her over, staring openly at her. “What manner of strange machine is that?”

Summer settled onto her haunches, closing her eyes and letting the familiar hum of a microwave soothe away her aches. They’d cut the rest of their bonds when taking samples, but her wings still ached from being bound so tightly. She twitched and shook them every few moments, but the soreness was still there.

“Like an… oven. A very fast oven that makes food that doesn’t taste as good.” She looked back at Emerald, waving her over. “Come over, you, uh… try this.”

Emerald muttered something, glancing periodically back at the dark section on the other side of the glass. But it was too quiet for Summer’s doubtful grasp of Ponish.

A few seconds later and it started popping. Emerald’s wings flared and she backed slowly away again, but Sharp was less afraid.

“Popcorn?” He raised an eyebrow. “After everything we’ve done today, and you’re making… popcorn. With a magic box.”

“It’s not magic, it just uses radiation to superheat the water dissolved in the… okay, sure. Magic.” She leaned against him, not caring how many cameras were watching. She had to feel something familiar. She wasn’t strong enough to keep doing this on her own. “It’s the best snack in the world. The best stuff comes dipped in chocolate or caramel, but I haven’t had any in months, so I’ll take what I can get.”

Sharp lowered his voice, whispering into her ear. “What do you think of Barton and Foster? I admit I expected a friendlier reception.”

She looked back, keeping her voice down. Smart of him to realize there might be people listening. She wasn’t sure it would help, but… “I think they really are afraid we’re going to make humans sick. Hopefully the tests all prove that isn’t anything to worry about. Barton said… the Secretary of State was coming. She’s… one of the most important people in the American government.”

“American,” he repeated. But just as the necklace had given her perfect pronunciation and understanding of Ponish, the reverse seemed true for him. “I don’t think you spoke about them much.”

“They’re… the richest country in our world. This observatory is in their territory. Those soldiers bossing us around are theirs. If they’re really sending someone important… at least it means they’re taking us seriously!”

The microwave dinged loudly, making Emerald jump right up into the air. She hovered for a second, before landing ungracefully. “Is that safe?”

“Yes,” Summer said. “Can’t you smell it? It’s delicious.”

She yanked it open, then tore the paper bag open at the top. Her claws gave her one advantage: they were tougher than skin, and not as bothered by the heat. She gave the bag a good shake, then reached in and took a handful.

Even if it felt bigger in her mouth, the taste was the same. Average as popcorn went, but thanks to all these months without, it might as well be gourmet. “Behold the wonders of technology,” she said, offering the open bag to her companions. “Instant popcorn.”

Chapter 44: Locked in a Cage

For the first few hours, none of them could do anything productive. It wasn’t just being in such an unfamiliar space, with gigantic furniture that might’ve been picked for size, but still was far too big to feel like they really belonged here. Aside from a few wonderful reminders of the delights of home, the food was strange to the ponies. Being so far north meant few of the fresh veggies and grains that were their staple diets.

Instead, everything was processed, everything was canned—so more of the same in terms of travel rations, only from another planet. At least nothing made them sick.

But a few hours turned into a day, and still they hadn’t heard back from Barton or Foster. They took turns with the necklace, asking questions about the everyday objects all around them. But after the stress of the day—after nearly being blown to pieces, and Kate trying to kill her more than once, Summer found herself not terribly interested in being productive.

“I don’t understand,” she squeaked, curled up beside Sharp in one of the beds. There were four of them in the bedroom, but even one was big enough for all three of them. Summer certainly didn’t want to be alone right now. “I was supposed to be human again. Through the Doorway, back the way I was. What went wrong?”

Sharp watched her sympathetically, patting her on the head with a hoof. “Summer, where did you actually hear that? What made you think it would do that?”

She opened her mouth to give the obvious answer, then realized that she didn’t have one. “Uh… I dunno. It feels like the right thing to happen, doesn’t it? If going through in one direction changed me into a hippogriff, then going back the way we came should fix it.”

Sharp pawed awkwardly at the thick sheets. But at least he wasn’t shy about confronting her with her mistakes. “Not everything can be reversed so easily. Like making iron into steel. Easy to go one way, but too much carbon in the iron and the steel is brittle. If you want to start over, you can’t just take back your work. You have to smelt it all down and start again. Maybe what happened to you was… accidental. Maybe it was never meant for humans to use.”

Summer wouldn’t have known any more about it than that. Except for what they’d seen in Athemis. “There were dead humans in Athemis,” she said. “Not dead birds who fought with the real hippogriffs, but dead humans. But that portal was broken.”

She slumped, closing her eyes and speaking mostly into the mattress. She didn’t want to admit it, but after all she’d learned she couldn’t possibly ignore it.

“The Pearl almost… spoke to me, when I got my piece. It showed me things that might be history. I wonder if… the doorway was always meant to do this. Make… hippogriffs, out of humans. The Pearl called the ancient hippogriffs from my world, created them. So of course it wouldn’t be reversible. The Pearl of Transformation’s alive. It’s… like a person. It wouldn’t want to give up what it took.”

Sharp didn’t answer for a long time. A part of her wondered if he was just waiting to see if she’d say anything else. But she didn’t, and eventually he said, “If that’s true, then contact between our worlds won’t be easy. Your… your kind built their own bridge. We saw it. No Doorway, yours was from scratch. But they won’t be able to visit.”

Unless they want to get changed forever.

“Contact that only goes one way is still world-changing,” Summer said, rolling onto her back. She didn’t move too much, not wanting to disturb the already-sleeping Emerald. Well, the “pretending to be sleeping” Emerald, anyway. The little filly might not be wearing the necklace right now, but she still seemed like she was listening.

“I can just imagine some of the ways ponies might be able to use their powers. Earth ponies could be great farmers. Pegasus ponies could help us fight disasters, and unicorn magic… I don’t even know what it can do, but I’m sure it’s just as impressive in its own way.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Sharp said. “There are certainly ponies hungry for adventure. At least two of us, by last count.” He glanced over at Emerald, then laid back down. “What do you think the humans will want to do? Will your tribe want to make friends with Equestria, or… sever our worlds, like Kate?”

Twenty years ago, the answer would’ve been obvious. But Earth was a different place, and now she wasn’t so sure. So much could change in just a few years. “I hope they want to be friends,” she said. “This feels like it was meant to happen, you know? Me getting ripped right out of the sky, and all the different little coincidences that kept us safe all the way here. Kate should’ve murdered us, or we could’ve got shipwrecked, or never left Mt. Aris. All that could’ve happened, but it didn’t. We made it.”

“I’m not ecstatic about my first impression,” he admitted. “But Barton and Foster seemed polite enough. So long as they don’t ask for more vials of blood and… other things.” He shivered. “For as advanced as your society is in other ways, did they really have to resort to bleeding? Or do you still do medicine by balancing the humors?”

She groaned, ears flattening. “That is not what those were about. All those samples are going to teach them about how these bodies work. There are even more advanced machines they could put us through… they probably will, eventually, that can see inside you without cutting.”

“An X-ray, I’m guessing,” Sharp said. “We’ve had those for a decade now. Not all your magic is strange.”

“I was thinking of an MRI…” But she thought better of explaining all that, and settled on something simpler. “They weren’t trying to make us better. But with those little pieces of us, they can know how our bodies work. They can know if we’re carrying lots of different diseases. It sounded like Kate has been feeding them lies for months now, trying to get them to close the experiment early. But instead of scaring them off, she only made them send in the whole damn army.”

But Kate clearly doesn’t understand humans very well, based on the way she acted in Equestria. Of course making Equestria seem dangerous was going to get their attention.

They went on a little longer like that, into what probably would’ve been the night if they had one. But there were still no visitors from the other side of the glass, or any sign of other creatures. At least they could sleep in peace.

Nothing woke them either, though Summer did occasionally hear muffled voices from outside. The changing of the guard she guessed, based on the roughly four-hour intervals that it repeated. Occasionally she heard a helicopter come down overhead, or a Humvee drive by far away. But that was it.

The next morning did bring her a luxury she hadn’t experienced since arriving in Equestria: a gigantic shower with unlimited searing-hot water. She made pancakes using the boxes and mix in the kitchen after that, since she knew from experience that ponies could eat pancakes no problem.

But when that was done, even Emerald seemed to be getting restless. “Why are they taking so long?” she asked, once Sharp gave her the necklace. “Isn’t this a big important day for them? Or do they not care about us…?”

Summer frowned, pushing away her empty plate. She glanced across the room at the dark plexiglass. “I think they’re waiting to finish their tests. Some of those are fast, but some can take a long time. I could probably ask them what’s going on…”

But she didn’t, not for a good long while. Summer didn’t want to rush things ahead before even getting the chance to write her letter home. It might be the only chance she ever got to communicate.

Or maybe they’d throw it in a shredder when she was done. Either way, it was something she had to do.

She sat down in front of the glass wall—the only desk in the little apartment, and started to write.

There was no easy way to tell her parents everything. There was no way to write it at all without the entire thing sounding completely stupid and impossible. She could only hope that outside sources would vouch for it.

She started off simple, in the part she thought would be most likely to be approved. She said that she’d been in an accident while serving at the observatory, and that was why she hadn’t called in months. She said it had left her disfigured, and she wasn’t sure if she would get to see them again.

It was a chance to say how much she loved them, and how grateful she was for their time together. To say that she hoped she got to see them again one day, but that she wasn’t sure they’d recognize her. Or even believe what she’d been through. And of course, she wrote the whole thing in German. Hopefully her handwriting hadn’t changed much for having claws.

Once the weight was off her chest, she moved on to telling her story in more detail. “You won’t believe any of this,” she began. “Maybe this will be all over the news. If it’s not, you probably won’t read it anyway. But this is what happened.”

And so she wrote. About getting sucked into the sky, transformed into a bird-creature, saved by Sharp, and her journey across Equestria. She left out her theories about the hippogriffs, or any details about Kate, ending with a difficult return trip and eventually making it back through the portal.

“I hoped to return to you when this was over,” she lied, or mostly lied. “That I would come back through as myself. But I am not. I don’t know if I ever will be again. Until big things change, I probably won’t be allowed to see you. I will ask the Americans if they can connect us for a video call. But if they don’t let me, at least say goodbye to my little sister for me.”

She finished things up, then licked the envelope closed. She addressed it properly, a habit she’d long-since mastered sending international post home from the observatory. Their hosts hadn’t left any stamps.

It was a futile gesture—obviously the Americans would open the whole thing, and they certainly wouldn’t mail it. But it was the right way to send a letter. She could only depend on the mercy of others to see that it got where it was going.

“How’s your novel coming?” Sharp asked, making his way over almost the instant she’d finished. “You’ve been at it for hours.”

She nodded, then pushed the envelope towards the end of the table and stood up. “I had to do it right. Now hopefully I can tell my family everything. Even if I don’t get to see them again… it kinda felt like getting to tell them.”

He nudged her shoulder affectionately. “I can see that. You look like you just won the Running of the Leaves or something.”

“I have no idea what that is,” she declared, before turning to see Emerald by herself in the corner. She’d removed every one of the board games from a shelf (stolen from the rec room, because of course they would be), playing with the pieces on the kitchen table.

She might be an alien traveler in another universe, but she was still a kid. Emerald Aurora was bored.

“I wish they’d given us movies,” Summer muttered. “We’re the first visitors anyone knows of from another world… well, you two are. But they didn’t even give you a TV.”

Even as she said it, she felt the objection fall apart in her mind. Obviously they wouldn’t want their aliens to watch human entertainment. Every movie carried cultural context, and possibly they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between reality and fiction. Sharp and Emerald had real problems with that at first.

Summer marched right over to the phone, lifting it off the wall with her claw. Using a corded phone felt almost as strange as being a bird. “Hello?”

There was a pause, some static and distant muttering, then, “This is officer on duty. How may we help you?” Not even a name. Just his position. Not the friendliest bunch, were they?

“I was just hoping you could tell us how long those tests are going to take,” she asked. “Agent Barton said that we would get a visitor soon to formally meet with us. But we haven’t heard anything yet.”

There was a long, awkward silence. Summer thought she could hear muffled voices, though she couldn’t quite make out the words. There was no using the advantages of her better hearing when only the microphone really mattered.

“Soon,” the voice said. “That’s all I can tell you. They’ll be done soon. Your visitor will be there soon. It’s all moving as fast as possible.”

“Your first aliens are getting bored locked in a room,” Summer said. “If you’re not going to send the welcoming committee, could you at least send us some movies? Like, Disney stuff would be great. I already showed them the movies I had on my tablet while I was over there. I promise it won’t be anything they don’t know.”

Another long pause, this time with more back and forth than she’d heard during the first question. Finally the speaker came back. “I’ll put something together. But we’re getting it on record that you already showed films while over there. This wasn’t ours.”

“Yes,” she said, exasperated. “Fine, put whatever you want on the record. Just get us something to keep a kid entertained, because ours is losing her mind in this jail you made.”

“It’s not a jail,” he snapped, without hesitation this time. “It’s biohazard isolation. Until we know you’re not a threat to the planet, it’s our responsibility to keep you contained.”

“I know,” she growled. “Just get us the movies please. And tell Barton that I finished my letter. I’d like it sent to my parents if he can.”

“They’ll collect it when they deliver the entertainment.” The line clicked.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” Sharp said, watching from a few feet away. “What’s a Disney? The magic feels like it’s working, but I don’t have a clue what it means.”

She shook her head, glaring down at the phone. “I’m sorry about this, Sharp. Your visit here was supposed to be… something awesome. They’d roll out the red carpet, shower you guys with gifts, the leaders of the scientific community would be here to learn all about Equestria…”

“Oh?” Sharp tilted his head slightly to the side. “Because that’s what happened to you in Equestria? I seem to recall your second day ended with a village trying to murder you. Then our ship got sabotaged, and a lightning cannon tried to shoot us down. There was that whole lake thing, that was fun.”

Summer laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I guess by that standard, being locked in a boring room for a while isn’t the worst thing. They even saved us from Kate.”

“See? Positive attitude!” He leaned over to hug her, though it was brief. She hadn’t told him that they were probably being watched—but Emerald was there, and he always got shy around the apprentice. “I can’t blame them for wanting to keep your entire planet from getting sick. If they thought it was a real threat, maybe it’s not one they can solve in a day. Though I do worry…”

He turned away, towards the door. “I hope Kate’s ponies don’t destroy the portal while she’s gone. They wouldn’t want to strand their master, right? And how… how will we deal with them on the return trip? If they touch the Horizon while we’re gone, we’re going to have words.”

Their captors weren’t completely heartless. It wasn’t anything like the hospitality they’d enjoyed in Mt. Aris. But a few hours later, more soldiers in biohazard gear arrived with a hard-plastic box in hand. They sealed Summer’s letter in a sleeve, then retreated without another word.

Emerald crept up to Summer as soon as they were gone, following her as she dragged the box over to the couch. “Why did they come back?” she asked, wearing the necklace again. “The scary ones. They should’ve sent the ones with real faces.”

“They all have real faces,” Summer chided, tapping her with a wing. “It’s just to stop them from getting sick, that’s all.”

She stuck out her tongue. “What did they leave us?”

“Something to stop you from getting bored.” She undid the latch, lifting on both sides.

Inside was a ruggedized military laptop, thick as her hoof and obviously long in service from the scratches and dents along the case. Tucked in beside it was what appeared to be a mismatched collection of every kid’s movie in the town of Utqiaġvik.

Emerald picked up one of the cases, her eyes widening at the little rainbow the disk made. “Pretty. Is this like that checkers game?”

“No.” Summer settled the laptop on the table in front of them, then picked an unlabeled disk at random and slid it into the slot. “This is more movies. Movies you’ve never seen before. And if you wear that, you should be able to understand without me translating.”

Emerald squealed with excitement. Sharp made his way over as well, though of course he wouldn’t understand her right now. He smiled anyway, watching her work intently.

The movie started playing on its own. Brave this time. A little dull, but Emerald probably wouldn’t care. Maybe watching movies about friendlier-looking humans would make her less afraid of them.

Chapter 45: We Met Someone Important

Their meeting came early the next day. At least, Summer thought it was the next day. The longer she spent in the camp, the less she was able to clearly differentiate one minute from the next. Maybe she'd only been on Earth for a few hours, and all her hours in the windowless almost-jail was warping her perception of time.

She knew the meeting would be different because she was warned about it in advance. "If there's anything you'd like to do to prepare, now's the time," said the marine over the phone, seconds before it went dead.

"Because we can do so much," she muttered back into the empty plastic. If her return had been accomplished properly, she'd probably have something to wear at least. But she had no way to do that, no way to get to a tailor and otherwise correct what had been stolen.

Where's Kate, anyway? I hope her cell is worse than this. “Get up," she called, straightening her head-feathers in the mirror. "Someone... coming." At least the language she was called to use was simple enough that she could still manage it.

Sharp Edge emerged from the open bedroom a few moments later, wearing the translation necklace and grinning groggily at her. "Are they finally... going to talk to us? It's about time."

She nodded, pulling over one of the low chairs. She could only imagine they'd be speaking through the glass. Even if they'd learned that the disease didn't exist, such an important person probably wouldn't be brought into direct contact with members of an alien race.

Sharp made his way over, joining her in the other chair. Emerald peeked briefly outside the bedroom, then pulled the door mostly shut. Not all the way—she'd still be able to watch through the crack. Though without the necklace, of course she wouldn’t understand anything she overheard. Probably for the best. Sharp will be able to handle this, but she's just a kid. She shouldn't have this much pressure on her. “I don't suppose we should talk about what we're going to tell them?"

"Just the truth," she said. "We aren't lying like Kate. We don't need to hide."

"I mean, obviously that." He glanced briefly back at Emerald, meeting her eyes. He didn't tell her to move, in English or any other way. "About the future of our worlds. What do we say?"

Summer made to answer, but then the door opened. Two men in suits emerged first, each one conspicuously armed. Not that they needed to be, with a sheet of bullet-proof glass between them. They checked the room over, muttering things they couldn't hear, before calling out into the cold. The light of an arctic day shone in from outside, as strong as it ever was out here in the frozen north. Then came the Secretary of State.

Theo didn't know very much about American politics, other than who happened to be the president at the time (and sometimes not even that). They probably could've brought in someone off the streets of Utqiaġvik and she would've believed she was the Secretary if they said so. But if they'd done that, they were certainly investing the time to make her seem legitimate. The fancy pantsuit, the flag pin, the secret-service looking escort. It was all exactly what Theo would've imagined.

The woman stopped in the doorway, staring through the glass at them. She glanced down at a tablet in a leather folio, then back up at them. Finally she crossed, still moving like someone who thought they were in a dream. She sat down at the human-height chair on the other side, and only then lifted the microphone. "You're Theo Pichler, is that right? Citizen of Austria, on scientific visa to Barrow Observatory. And you're... Sharp Edge, I believe. Is my information here correct?"

Summer nodded. "That's both of us. And you're..."

"My name is Mrs. Brooks, representing the United States for this conversation. Though in many ways, I suspect you could say that I'm here on behalf of the entire human race. It isn't often we make first contact with an alien race. Not two new alien races, as appearances might suggest. As you say, you're human. Or you... were. How do you think of it?"

"I was," Theo answered, glancing sidelong at Sharp. It was his reaction she was really interested in. "I thought everything would be reversed when I got here. That clearly was... not the case."

Brooks chuckled, though the sound was mostly polite. "I'm sure that was quite a shock for you, Theo. But everything about your experience was... well, I'm not here to reminisce. Others will be here to discuss your specific situation: you aren't one of our citizens, so my authority over you extends only so far as a duty to protect an individual here on scientific exchange. I can't help think that I've failed in that duty."

It was her turn to laugh. "I don't know how anyone could've seen this coming." She held up one wing, extending it carefully. Demonstrating the way she moved and folded it. "This should be impossible. No one would've thought there were other worlds, or... that I could be changed into another kind of living thing. When I landed on the other side, I spent a good long time just wondering when I'd wake up back here. That... didn't happen. Somehow this is all real."

"I would like to know how it happened. Crossing over to their world, were you... trying to find a way across? Did you know the Rift was here?" She said it as though she should've known what it meant, though obviously she didn't even recognize the word. Did they name that after the fact, or have they known what this was all along?

She didn't want to suggest she knew anything more than she did, however. The more ignorant they thought she was, the better her chances of learning something useful. Those military people aren't going to slip and share things with me by mistake. But a politician might. “I was just doing my duty, installing the experiment for Graz University. I... probably shouldn’t have been out in weather that bad. If you talk to my boss... You've probably interviewed him already, or someone did. He wasn't happy I was still out here. But the danger I was defying was supposed to be the crazy wind, not getting sucked into another world."

Brooks nodded, settling her tablet onto the table in front of her and finally turning to Sharp. "What about you? This is supposed to be about first contact between our species, but I'm not sure I've heard you say anything yet. Could you tell me how you know about all this? How'd you get involved with Theo here?"

Sharp sat up, smiling up at the human with characteristic pony politeness. But then, Summer had rarely seen him with anything else. Only when Kate had threatened them had he become really aggressive. "She wandered into Sleighsburg a few months ago. She was half crazy with cold, she could barely walk. Couldn't even speak our language. But I had an object that could help with that, the one I'm wearing now." He held up the necklace, showing it off for her. "I've known about the Doorway for quite some time, you see. Before Kate used it, even. I knew there was a good chance that some other creature would come through if I waited long enough."

The Secretary twitched once, apparently fully invested now. She scribbled something on her screen with one finger, though Theo couldn't imagine how she'd even be able to read it after the fact. At least she wasn't going to waste more time and make her feel awkward about being female all over again. That was a question even she didn’t want to delve too deeply into right now. She shouldn't feel so silly about it, but she also couldn’t help it. "You knew about the... Doorway. And how did you find out about it?"

Sharp tensed in his seat, glancing briefly back towards the door. "Forgive me, Brooks. I want to be honest with you. But since our arrival, you've locked us in this small room, and told us almost nothing about how long you plan on keeping us here. Will Summer be able to talk to her parents? What have you done with Kate? I'd like to exchange some of that information, rather than just telling you everything. I... ran my own shop, you see. I may not be as clever as some of the ponies of Canterlot, but I can see a chance to negotiate when it's in front of me."

Her worry over how the Secretary might respond—with anger, or worse—proved in vain. Brooks laughed jovially, tossing her tablet computer aside. "I suppose that makes sense. I am sorry our initial interaction with you made it seem like that was necessary. I promise we don't typically get into the habit of locking potential new friends away in..." She stared through the glass over their shoulders for a moment, looking over the room. "It seems comfortable enough, but I know it must feel like a prison. Just imagine how you might react if you thought a disease was coming to your world, one that could kill everyone on it. Wouldn't you do everything you could to make sure it wouldn't spread?"

Sharp nodded curtly. "But as soon as it became clear we weren't going to die, I would put an end to our captivity. That's probably a good first question: when will you release us?"

Brooks turned, gesturing to one of the secret-service agents. He moved over to her, and they exchanged a few whispers. Then she looked back, grinning again. "You'll have to forgive my ignorance on the subject. I've been told the tests take three days. When that's over, a volunteer will enter isolation with you, and then we'll observe them in quarantine for another three days. Call it another week more, can you give us that long? I assure you, you aren't missing much. It's winter out there, Theo can tell you. Even if you were human, there wouldn't be much for you to do in Utqiaġvik." She leaned across the table, right up to the glass. "Now, why don't we start with my first question: how did you find out about the ‘Doorway’?"

"We've had stories about contact with other worlds before. There are a few magical devices that supposedly connect to another realm. Always the same place, curiously enough: a domain of creatures with two legs, and no cutie marks. One of these is a mirror held by the Crystal Empire. I don't know very much about it; the crown doesn't like to share that. There are also supposed to be natural formations that bridge the worlds, where the boundaries are thin under certain conditions. There are distant islands where the tide can wash you across... but after failing to find those, I focused on another myth, a war between hippogriffs and ancient hunters. I visited a number of ruins dating before the founding of Equestria, and they eventually led me to the Doorway. I'm not aware of a single other pony who knows about it. Other than my apprentice, who's in the other room. I can bring her out if you'd like to see her."

"At the end, perhaps." The secretary kept careful notes, watching with the attentiveness of a trained politician. "You don't know anything else about this 'mirror'? If there are other ways your, uh... your people might find their way across, it would be best to know about them now."

Sharp sat back on his haunches, grinning smugly at her. "What are you going to do with Kate? The other hippogriff who came with us... you know how dangerous she is, right? I'm sure she'll tell you anything you want to hear if it will get you to do what she says."

"She's the reason you believe there's a disease in the first place," Summer added. "I had nothing to do with that information. I would've told you the truth. We're not dangerous to humans." We found a grave of hundreds of frozen corpses, and they'd clearly been hacked to death. I don't think they'd have been much of a threat to the hippogriffs if coming in contact made them get sick and die.

Summer watched Brooks carefully, and she could see her twitch uncomfortably at the mention of Kate's name. There was something there. Something she didn't want them to know? Maybe it would've been safer to keep her close, even if she was extremely murderous. At least they'd have kept an eye on her...

"I'm told she tried to imitate you the moment you arrived. We might've been more willing to believe her story if that wasn't the case. Proper measures are being taken to keep her contained, just like with you. She isn't about to be released."

Well thanks for the non-answer, Summer thought. But she wasn't going to press on the subject. Except... "I doubt she's going to be honest with you at all. So just to make sure you know: she's been using basic technology from our world to run a company that's absolutely dominating over there. She's probably a... billionaire, if that concept even makes sense in Equestria. She doesn't want any contact between our worlds because... I'm not even sure. She says it's for environmental reasons, that she's afraid we would lead Equestria to an industrial revolution like ours, destroying the climate and polluting their world. But I wonder if it's really just to keep control of her profits."

"She's a murderer," Sharp whispered. "She's killed before, and she intended to kill again. Her thugs foalnapped us, and planned on sending us through with explosives to destroy the Doorway on your side, before destroying the structure on our side. If you send her back, she'll find a way to do that. She doesn't care who dies if it means she can accomplish her goals."

Brooks glanced back at the secret service agents again, though she didn't say anything either of them could hear. Eventually she turned back, seeming to answer with deliberate care. "Thank you for sharing that with us. It doesn't sound at all like what she shared, but... as I said, we've been treating anything she told us with great skepticism. But the other questions I have for this first meeting will be far less... Well, this meeting is bigger than either of us. I represent one nation out of many. All of them are going to be watching this moment, as soon as they learn what it represents. Alien life is within reach, though you don't look anything like we imagined. But if I'm right, you don't actually... and please don't take this the wrong way—but you don't represent any kind of authority on your side. You were just coming along with Theo."

"To make sure she made it home," he supplied. "But you're right. I'm not a princess. I'm not even a mayor."

Brooks nodded. "Ultimately what we'd like to do is... arrange for a meeting with someone from your side who has authority to represent your nation. Equestria, right?"

"The princess," he said. "I've had almost no contact with the royal family. I'm just an explorer, and a blacksmith. But I'm sure Princess Twilight or Princess Celestia would be eager to meet with a new nation. Twilight recently formalized our diplomatic relations with dragons, and Yakyakistan, so... I'm sure she'd want to meet with you as well. Though..." He gestured vaguely around him. "I wouldn't suggest trying to lock up any of the princesses like this. If they didn't want to stay in your building, it wouldn't matter how many soldiers you used."

Probably not the best thing to tell the Americans. Brooks wasn't a general or a soldier, but even so. Better not talk about Equestria's oil reserves while we're at it.

But she took it with grace, or at least hid her displeasure well. "I promise not to use too much more of your time. I just have a few more questions."

"We're not going anywhere," Summer said flatly. "We're locked in here for... another week? What happens after that?"

Brooks shrugged. "We don't know. I'll tell you what the president wants. Originally we hoped to send a team across to work out what exactly is happening on the other side. But given the, uh... permanent consequences... right now discussions seem to suggest it would be better for all concerned if travel is only one way. I'm sure we'll be able to find volunteers to make the trip anyway, as exciting as this all is. But we'll want to keep that list as short as possible."

Summer put up her foreleg without even thinking. "Put me at the top of that list, Mrs. Brooks. I have less to sacrifice than anyone else you might consider. I'm learning the language, and I'm already familiar with the culture. I've even been to the capitals of two nations on that side."

"That's very noble of you. To be perfectly honest, we're not sure how long this is going to stay secret. All this getting out only for the door to close forever—that would be a shame, don't you think? But the president signing a treaty of peace and free trade with an alien nation... that's our Kennedy moment. And of course we need a complete evaluation for just how safe an exchange there can be. Kate might've invented her disease, but there's a very real chance that contact will be rendered impossible for other reasons. We plan on sharing the best news with the world when the moment comes."

Of course you do. Summer groaned, feeling the heat boiling in her chest. Brooks might be denying her contact with her parents because of... American politics? "There's something else you should know," she said, before she could really consider what she was doing. "While we were trying to find our way back, we came in contact with another of that world's nations: Seaquestria? I've got good reason to believe they are the descendants of ancient humans, who left our world and were transformed like I was. They sent us back with instructions to deliver a sealed message and box of artifacts, which is sitting on our ship on the other side waiting for you. We would've brought them with us, if we'd crossed on our own terms."

Brooks scribbled all that down on her tablet, not interrupting until she'd finished. "That's... very interesting," she said. "Implies a previous connection between both sides that we hadn't imagined. I'm sure there are a dozen different historians and scientific types who would know what to do with that. All I can say is that we would like to develop a positive exchange between our worlds. I'm sure societies on both sides could benefit from the free exchange of ideas, and maybe more."

"I've been looking for the Doorway to cross between worlds for years. I would like nothing more than to see ponies able to get to know your world better. If the reverse is true, then it seems we agree. I will just... look forward to having that conversation as equals, instead of as prisoners."

Chapter 46: And An Old Friend

Brooks rose to her feet, folding her tablet closed. "I assure you, your time trapped in here will be as brief as possible. If we could be sure it was safe, you could already be touring the observatory. I would much rather shake your hands than have you on the other side of a barrier. Well..." She held up one hand, glancing down at them and looking embarrassed. "Metaphorically speaking. Obviously you don't have... You get the idea."

She straightened, turning to Summer. "I hope you don't mind if we use this time productively while we wait for the results of our quarantine to be known. I'm going to send a member of my staff to ask various questions about the world on the other side. I'm sure Sharp here has had the chance to quiz you about life on our side, so it's only fair. We'd still like to prepare a team, or at least prepare to properly equip a diplomatic mission sent across to national authorities on that side. Would you mind answering questions for us?"

"Would you mind delivering my letter to my family?" Summer asked. "I didn't tell them anything secret, but you can screen it for details before you deliver it. I just want them to know I'm okay."

Brooks looked past her, apparently still waiting for Sharp to answer. But he only nodded towards Summer, grinning placidly until she finally answered. "I can get it delivered. I'm not able to promise that we won't have to censor parts of it. But so long as we can agree on that, I can make sure they get your message."

"Sure," Summer said. "If you have to. Just don't add anything. Do those ugly black highlights so they know stuff was cut out. Then we can tell you anything you want to know. Just don't talk to Kate about any of it. She's just going to lie to scare you away from contacting Equestria. That's not what we want, and it doesn't seem like it's what you want either."

She nodded, turning to leave. "A member of my staff should be here in the next few hours. We can speak in person once we've confirmed that it will be safe for both of us. Until then, it was a pleasure meeting all of you. Hopefully the rest of your time in the United States is more pleasant than your first week." She left, followed closely by her escort. They didn’t seem to know (or care) how to turn off the light behind them, so they just left it as they shut everything. Emerald emerged from the bedroom as soon as the door was shut, blabbering something in Ponish so rapid that Summer couldn't hope to understand it.

Sharp removed the necklace, and responded calmly, before replacing it a few moments later.

"What did you think?" Summer asked. "Was your first meeting with the Travelers what you imagined?"

He sighed, rising from his seat. "I'm not surprised that Kate found a way to ruin it. I just... They wouldn’t be afraid of us if it wasn’t for her. We wouldn't be locked away in this room. And she's probably out there trying to convince them to seal our worlds apart right now. It doesn't seem fair."

"At least they didn't shoot us." Summer pushed away from the desk, wandering back across the room. "It's a shame there was so much... inertia... to overcome, but it seems like they want the same thing we do." And it could've been so much worse. They could've wanted to use Equestria for secret military purposes. Then again, they still might. But if they were going to screw them, why even bother sending someone? You've been watching too many movies, Summer. They're not going to do that.

"They gave us a promise we can count on," Sharp said, staring through the glass at the empty room on the other side. "Now we have a way to judge whether they're going to be honest with us or not. I haven't enjoyed being locked up here... but if they're not trying to attack us, I'll consider it generally friendlier than the way you were treated. So I'll wait to judge until we find out they aren't going to be honest with us."

He took a few steps closer to her, lowering his voice to a sly whisper. Not that it mattered, since Emerald wouldn't be able to understand without the necklace anyway. He had to speak English no matter what. "Volunteering to come back with me, huh? How long have you been planning that?"

She shoved him, turning back towards the kitchen. She still hadn't eaten yet today, and her insides were starting to groan. Might as well take advantage of the meat and fish she could get on Earth while it was there. "I did say I hoped my job would end up on your side, Sharp. I just... thought it would be because I was going back, not because I didn't have a choice."

She stopped beside the stove, staring down at her claws. "This is me... forever, now." She paused, taking a few deep breaths. "All these months I was in Equestria, I knew that I'd be able to come here and fix it. I didn't really have my body stolen. I didn't have to think too hard about everything different. It was more like my real self was over here waiting. Except... I wasn't. He's just dead. I'm a girl forever. A... mare? Is that even the right word for a hippogriff?"

Sharp moved over to her, resting against her in a way obviously meant to be comforting. It normally would've been except right now. Now it was a reminder of everything she wasn't. Walking through that Doorway had taken the oversized duffel of baggage she'd been dragging along and smacked her in the face with it. Am I gay? Am I trans? Am I... human?

Her gut burned with guilt, but she couldn't even say why. "I shouldn't be..." She slumped to the floor, forgetting about her lunch ambitions completely. "I shouldn't be able to..."

"To what?" Sharp bent down beside her, meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry you didn't get your old body back, Summer. It would've been more convenient for all of us. This whole 'sickness' lie wouldn't have survived if we landed here looking like you. Or... would you prefer we call you something else? Theo, like before? It's... easier to say right now. Like 'Kate'. I could get used to it."

"It's not about my fucking name!" she squealed, spreading her wings wide and backing away from him. "I don't want... I don't even know what I want, Sharp. It's nothing you could do. None of this is your fault. It's nobody's fault I got sucked into the sky, except maybe my school for accidentally inventing the way to open portals between universes. Or... weaken the boundaries, or however it works. I don't care. But it doesn't matter. I just need... I don't even know. Time, maybe? It's my mistake for telling myself that everything would get magically better when I crossed over. It was a convenient fiction, so it was bound to fall apart. I have to cope with what I am, because I'll never be anything else. I'm... a bird. A girl bird, forever."

That was what made this hurt so badly. No matter how far away from the portal they got, no matter how powerful Feather seemed, there was still some way for her to be back to normal. While there was even a little hope, she could hold to that. She could keep going as a bird for a little bit longer! Even at the end, when she'd mastered most of her hippogriff abilities. Being able to change into a fish and back, flying—she could still choose to go back, have her vacation on Earth, see her family, then return to Equestria. But there would be no having her cake and eating it too. She didn't get to choose. She'd never be normal again.

Her next few hours weren't great. She didn't really want Sharp's sympathy, not when he was such a painful reminder of everything that had changed. But it wasn't like she didn’t want to be with him. Her decision wouldn't have been so hard if she hadn't found a new life in Equestria. Then she could've gone ahead and hated everything and at least not felt guilty.

It was probably around evening by the time she noticed she wasn't alone. She'd crawled into one of the bedrooms and locked the door, though that hadn't stopped Emerald from getting in. She made her way over to the bed, poking up from the ground and staring. At first Summer thought that would be the end—but then she spoke, and she realized Emerald was wearing the translation necklace. "Why are you so upset, Summer? I thought that meeting went well."

Summer sat up, pushing aside the blankets and trying to look presentable. She probably wouldn't succeed—there was no hiding how much she'd been crying. "It... it did. Almost as well as it could've. It would probably be better if they were just going to let us go, but they can't, not for another week. That's what they said... not sure if Sharp told you."

"He told me." Emerald crawled across the bed towards her, shoving the blanket away. It might've been strange to have someone else's child act like this. But Emerald had stopped acting like someone else’s child a long time ago. "So why did you run away? Why have you been in here all day?"

How could she even begin to explain this? "Because... it didn't really hit me until now, that... that I won't ever be myself again." She spread her wings for a few seconds, demonstrating how absurd she looked. Of course it didn't have the desired effect on Emerald, who only seemed more confused as she stared.

"Oh." Emerald watched her for a few more seconds, looking deep in thought. "You... cared a lot about that. What you look like and stuff? You want to be one of them again? The... humans?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped before she had. Obviously she wanted to be human again, it should be the most important thing in the world. But when she tried to think about why, she found the words wouldn't come. She was embarrassed for her family to see her this way? She didn't want them to think she was gay? Because she wanted to seem normal and be able to go home? She missed walking along the canals when they were frozen, and the little narrowboats were iced over with wintery film? All that was true, but she couldn't get the words out of her mouth without feeling incredibly... selfish. Except for the bit about seeing her family again. But she still might be able to do that, even if she was never human again.

"I thought I'd be able to live both ways," she said. "If the Doorway worked like that, then it would be perfect for everybody. We could visit you, and you could visit us. But it doesn't work that way. When I got sucked through, I was changed forever. I'll never be human again, or a stallion again. I know that probably doesn't make a lot of sense to you, sweetheart... but it was important to me."

Emerald was silent for another long while, watching her. Finally she spoke. "I think... I think the smart way to think about it is, uh... uh... were you really going to choose any different?"

Summer blinked, staring at the filly in confusion. "Was I... what?"

Emerald stood up a little straighter, seeming to grow more confident. "Were you going to choose any different? In the end, you'd still have to pick whether you lived in Equestria or here, right? So what were you going to decide? If you weren't stuck, if there was nothing forcing you and you could go back to being human right now, forever... would you do it?"

Summer got up, hopping down from the edge of the bed and looking away. "It's a silly question, since I can't. There's no way to—"

Emerald was already in front of her, blocking the way for her to leave the bedroom. She spread her wings, flaring out as big as she could. Still far smaller than Summer, though she wasn't about to just shove past her. She was just a kid, and obviously she meant well. "Tell me what you'd pick," she repeated. "Would you not be a hippogriff anymore? Would you never visit Equestria again? Would you say goodbye to Sharp and me forever?"

"No," she stammered. "No, I... I wouldn't. But I didn't want to say goodbye to my family either. I wouldn't... I didn't think I should have to do either one. And maybe I don't. Maybe after enough time, I'll be able to visit them again, even though I'm a bird-thing."

Emerald smiled, apparently satisfied. "That's why you shouldn't be sad, Summer. This might've been scary, I'd be scared too. I didn't think coming to your world would be like this. It's got some amazing things in it, but we don't get to see most of them because everypony is so scared of us. But now you don't have to be upset, because nothing really changed for you. It just... forced the decision you were already going to make."

Summer stared at her for a few seconds, stunned. Then she reached out, patting her on the head. "Are you sure you're just a filly? You've thought about this almost as much as I have."

Emerald shrugged, turning up her nose. But Summer could smell just how satisfied she was with the compliment. "What can I say? I'm just really smart for my age. Everypony in Sleighsburg has to grow up fast."

Summer watched her go, and didn't follow right away. She needed a little more time to herself. Even though Emerald was right, and she'd been honest with the filly about her own choices, it was still a blow. But she could deal with it. She could accept the fact that she would never get her old body back. Accept that she was a woman now, or a mare, or whatever the word was.

Did that at least mean she could be with Sharp now, and not feel guilty and embarrassed about it? Or was it... even worse or something? It was a good thing her family wasn't terribly religious, or this whole thing would've gotten even harder to explain. I'm going back with them through the portal. I'm going back to Equestria. Better or worse, this is what I am now. I'm going to have to learn to live with it.

She could do that. She'd already done most of the heavy lifting during her trip across Equestria. All she had left to do was pull the trigger.

There was little to do over the next few days, other than bide their time. They had a promise, and a timeline to follow. She had no reason to think that Brooks hadn't been honest with them about it, and no realistic hope of escape even if she had been lying. Where would they have gone even if they tried to run?

Brooks was absolutely telling the truth about sending a member of her staff to ask them about Equestria. Mr. Diaz was there the next time Summer left the bedroom, talking to Sharp about Equestria. Food that time. The next time she walked past, he was taking notes about the animals that lived in Equestria, and the way they managed their forests. Over the next few days he returned with more questions every day, staying until they got bored of answering them. Most of the time Sharp was the one to talk to him, but sometimes he wanted Summer's perspective, and other times Emerald took her turn.

What they didn't do was learn anything useful from him. When Summer asked about how the tests were going, he told them honestly. "They don't tell me anything, that way I can't share anything I shouldn't say. But no news is probably good news. If something disastrous was coming out of the lab, it would probably change these questions. Suddenly it would be about how much you knew about the sickness, and what you were trying to do to humanity by hiding it. But obviously you aren't sick in there, and... you don't look like you're trying to get anyone here sick either."

"We're not," Summer said, without a trace of malice. "I've... never been ill once, not in the whole time I've been in Equestria. Do ponies even get sick, Sharp?"

He wasn't helping with the questions that time, though he wasn't far away. Watching another movie with Emerald, though he was the one with the necklace. Maybe translating, or maybe covertly listening to Summer's conversation with Mr. Diaz. "Yes, ponies get sick. I don't know how common or uncommon it is. We have hospitals and medicine and medical magic to treat the ill. Probably the same way you do things."

Mr. Diaz typed a few things on his little laptop, and went right back to questions. He had quite a massive script—probably enough to keep asking them things through the week until they were declared disease-free. Maybe that was the purpose all along, just to pacify them until they were safe to release.

But then Brooks's promises were proven true in another important way: the volunteer arrived.

At first Summer imagined that they were about to be released. Several soldiers arrived at their door, each one wearing the heavy masks and suits they'd worn on the first day. At least they had the decency to knock, even if they obviously didn't need to. "Come in," Summer called, making her way over to the door and blocking off Emerald. Whatever waited on the other side, the child probably didn't need the stress.

It was a little bit of a shock to be reminded just how... unfriendly things were out there. A spotlight, a trench, even some barbed wire. Now if only she could figure out if they were the ones being protected, or the prisoners. Maybe both?

The soldier standing on the steps outside didn't wear armor anymore—instead he had a full set of hazmat gear, fully inflated despite the blizzard outside. At least it showed his face, instead of those creepy-looking slits. "Theo Pichler," he said. "Do you mind if we come in? We've got a guest with us, someone you'll probably be eager to speak with after all this time." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder at the other soldiers.

She shrugged. She couldn't see anyone in that crowd who looked familiar, not with the tiny slices of their faces she could see. Maybe one set of gear wasn't as intense as the others, but that was all. Aside from this officer, the rest of the soldiers were still wearing their armored biohazard suits from their first meeting. "Sharp, do you have any objections?" It wasn't like they really had any choice.

"We're not doing anything else," Sharp said. "Anything new would be a welcome change. Just decide quickly, you're letting the heat out. Emerald will be fine, but I'm already freezing."

Summer rolled her eyes, then moved out of the way. To her surprise, the soldiers didn't file in one after another. The lead officer stepped in, gesturing forward with one hand. The crowd parted, and a single figure made their way up. Wearing... observatory-marked cold-weather gear, right down to the little symbol on the scarf. The same ones they sold in the gift shop, though most base crew held onto the free set they got when they first arrived.

The second figure pulled the door shut on their way in, confirming her suspicion that none of the other soldiers would be joining them. "I sure hope you were committed, because you've just been exposed. If there's anything in here, you've got it now."

"I don't think there is," said a familiar voice from inside the scarf. He reached up, pulling the hood down. There was no mask under there, no oxygen tank. Just unprotected skin. Corey looked down at her, wide-eyed and staring. "Good to see you again, Theo. How was your winter?"