Child of Mine

by Starscribe

First published 19th of November, 2019

After discovering a strange animal abandoned in the forest, Kyle is in for far more than he could've bargained for.

Flurry Heart's Crystaling didn't quite go as planned. After vanishing in a powerful magical surge, she became the most high-profile missing pony case in Equestrian history. Twilight leads the search to find her, before it's too late.

Unbeknownst to her, Flurry has already been found, by an unfortunate human who happened to be hiking near the place she appeared. Flurry Heart's magic is irresistibly powerful, and soon changes all around her to suit her whims. Soon Flurry's rescuer is fighting to reverse the magic, before the authorities notice and separate him from the only possible source of help.

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Cover by Zutcha, editing by the Eevees in the hood Two Bit and Sparktail.

Updates most Tuesdays.

Note: This story was written as a commission for the generous patron of the arts Crescent Pulsar. If you'd like one of your own, feel free to PM me.

Prologue: Missing Pieces

Twilight crept nervously through the halls of the crystal palace, levitating half a dozen books around her in a gentle cloud. Her mane was disheveled, and there were bags under her eyes. The ramblings of long-dead wizards overlapped in her head, each one a contradiction to half of the others. She dreaded every step, and the news she would have to deliver. But she’d reached the point that a few more minutes in the library just weren’t going to magically fix everything.

The throne room was every bit as chaotic as she’d expected. Sun streamed through the stained glass, and she shielded her eyes with a reflexive wing. Of course the sun would be up.

Dozens of pony guards packed into the corners of the room, with their dull ceremonial spears swapped out for real metal weapons. They didn’t really seem to know what to do, and Twilight could hardly blame them. What were a few mostly traditional soldiers supposed to do about the disappearance of the most important child in all of Equestria?

“Twilight!” Cadance’s voice cut through the din, shrill and desperate. Her horn glowed, and Twilight felt herself yanked there with a none-too-gentle drag of magic. She nearly lost her grip on the priceless ancient books, but she managed to bring them along behind her in a line, as she settled under the throne.

If Twilight looked bad, then Cadence was an order of magnitude worse. Her makeup smeared down her face, half her mane was stuck sideways with long strands extending outward like she’d survived a mane product explosion. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had one of Flurry’s little dolls tucked into the throne beside her.

“Oh, Twily’s here. Here for the eleventh hour save, huh little sis?”

Shining looked a little better than his wife, if only because of the full suit of armor he was wearing. He was used to rough conditions working with the Royal Guard that a princess like Cadence wouldn’t have endured. Even so, his voice quavered and shook with every word. He was barely holding himself together.

“Did the Guard find anything?” she asked, running her magic through her mane to straighten it. “You must’ve turned the city upside down by now.”

“Twice,” he said bleakly. “I’m certain that our little princess isn’t here. Not in any home, not in the palace, not even the sewers.”

Buck. She had to know when walking in that they’d obviously not had any luck. If Flurry had been found, Cadence wouldn’t be letting her out of her presence. “But you must’ve known that,” Cadence prompted. “Because you’re here to tell us exactly what must’ve happened. Right, Twilight?”

She winced, shuffling through her piles of books awkwardly. “Well, Cadence...” There was no use beating around it. “I have several theories, but no easy answers.”

Cadance’s face twitched, and she seemed to sink a little into her throne. “Y-you… don’t know?”

“There are several possibilities,” she repeated. “Cadence, there’s… I’ve narrowed down what happened. Big questions like this don’t usually get solved instantly. We have to narrow things down, until we’re left with the right answer. And I have managed to reduce the size of our search space.”

“I just want to find my baby,” Cadence said. “I’m… I don’t mean to be sharp with you, Twilight. But I’m not sure who else can help. Nopony understands magic the way you do.”

Not quite true, Twilight thought, but she wasn’t going to argue. She planned on returning to Ponyville to consult with one of the ponies who might actually be able to help her understand this. It was going to be a larger undertaking than reading a few old texts in the Crystal Empire’s library.

“I’m going to help you find her,” she repeated, maybe for the dozenth time. “So this is what I know. What we saw—it wasn’t any kind of elaborate foal napping. It wasn’t an evil scheme, or Sombra returned. I examined the magical signatures carefully, and there’s only one there. Flurry Heart’s. And given her age, you can guess what option that leaves.”

“She had her first real magic surge,” Shining said. “We thought that was probably it. But I’ve never heard of a pony just disappearing from one of those. Did she…” He lowered his voice. “Is she alright?”

The question might be vague, but Twilight understood the implication: Did my daughter use her uncontrollable magical power to blow herself up? Is she dead? “The kind of spell you’re thinking is conscious and purposeful, Shining. So no, I think it’s safe to say she didn’t hurt herself with her magic. It was a teleport. If she was just another unicorn, then she’d be limited to visual range the way most unicorns are, and we’d already have found her. But given she’s an Alicorn, I believe she would be able to cast Worldgate spells instinctively, the way some unicorns teleport in little hops.”

Cadance’s expression only sunk further, and she squeaked faintly, picking up Flurry’s doll and squeezing it in her forelegs as though it was the missing child.

“Pretend I’ve never heard of that before,” Shining said. “What’s a, uh… Worldgate?”

“A long-range teleportation spell,” Twilight supplied. At least she was back into familiar subjects, and wouldn’t have to think about how pathetic and broken Cadence looked. But would I feel any better if I’d just lost my child? “We’re talking city to city. Only the best-trained unicorns can ever hope to cast them. For Alicorns it’s easier, but still not easy. They’re hard enough that I usually take the train into Canterlot, instead of risking the spell.”

“She could be anywhere,” Cadence moaned. “What do we do, Twilight? We can’t search all Equestria. She could be… out in the woods somewhere, all alone. Or freezing cold in the snow, or in a lake, or…”

She could be. Twilight could offer no words of comfort there, except: “Worldgates usually use sympathetic connection—it’s the magical measurement of how attached to a place or thing you are. So it probably won’t be out in the wilderness somewhere, since Flurry has never even seen the outside of the Empire yet. She’s not going to feel a connection to places she’s never been.”

“But Twily, she’s never even been outside the palace before. If that’s how the spell works, shouldn’t she be inside somewhere?”

“Well…” Twilight winced. “Everything around us is connected to lots of other things. You’ve got paintings of places all over Equestria. Her furniture wasn’t all made here in the Crystal Empire, or her clothes, or… anything she might’ve touched. It’s still a lot to investigate. I’d like to ask for something meaningful to her I can use for a tracking spell. Something she touched recently. Then I’ll get a balloon and follow the spell.”

“That’s it?” Cadence lit up, vanishing from her throne and appearing in front of Twilight, holding out the doll. “Here, this was her favorite. So you’ll cast a spell on this, and we can follow it?”

Twilight took the doll, unable to meet Cadance’s eyes. The pupils were so wide they were almost black, like an addict who hadn’t been treated. “I need some other raw materials from my castle, and some help.” And probably a nap. “From the look of it, you need some sleep too. Just remember, all Equestria knows about her. Wherever she ended up, I’m sure Flurry Heart is around friendly hooves who will keep an eye on her until we find her.”

Twilight considered explaining the rest of how a Worldgate spell worked, but with how strained and broken Cadance’s expression looked, she thought better of it. Maybe she’ll be feeling a little better when I get back. Or maybe she wouldn’t have the heart to tell her. Maybe she’d just have to hope their search was successful, and they found the foal at the end of the tracking spell.

Nothing bad could happen to a sweet little foal. Somepony would keep an eye on her, Twilight was sure of that.

Chapter 1: Good Samaritan

Kyle slid down the banister of the old house, feeling the wood creak and give as he rounded the corner and landed on an ancient carpet. Quiet enough that he hoped he could make it to the backdoor unmolested.

He gripped the straps of his backpack a little tighter about his shoulders, then dodged under the outstretched arm of Douglas Reaume, honored progenitor. But he was a little too close this time, and his shoulder brushed against it, spraying dust through the air behind him to catch the light through stained-glass windows.

He slowed a little as he rounded the corner, catching it with one hand on the old wood and turning into the parlor. There was a little door behind the desk here, where servants had once brought tea and refreshments. The family was too poor for servants anymore, but the door still worked.

He fumbled with a rusty iron key, twisting the lock as slow as he could. Even so, there was still a resounding click as it opened, and the door began to swing outward.

“Heading to the game early?” asked a voice from behind him.

Kyle jumped, then froze, pocketing the key and turning slowly around.

His twin sister Kara was everything he wasn’t—attractive, popular, and smart. She was already wearing her cheer uniform, though the game wouldn’t be for a few hours yet. But she was almost always doing something. Probably she’d be off volunteering at the shelter before the game, or just spending time with her boyfriend.

“I, uh…” He looked away, brushing his hair back with one hand. “I planned on going hiking. I’m not sure if I’ll be back in time.”

She sighed, resting one peremptory hand on her waist. “Going off on your own doesn’t make friends, Kyle. You know that, right?”

He nodded. “I know. But if I don’t cool off on weekends, I won’t make it through school. I have to get out there.”

She hurried forward, wrapping one arm briefly around him in an awkward sibling hug. So maybe one thing had survived their childhood. She was probably going off to be CEO of some major corporation, with time to supermodel on the side. At least he’d have rich family while he was flipping burgers into his forties. “I’ll leave tickets on your desk if you change your mind, Kyle. And you should.”

Then she turned, darting back into the house.

Before Kyle could end up the recipient of anyone else’s pity, he pushed the door open, having to strain against thick ivy until it was open wide enough for him. Finally he could get through, and he made his way out onto the grass. Once there had been half a dozen landscapers to care for this part of the property—now it was overgrown, with thorns that tore at his shorts and tried to grab his laces as he made his way towards the back of the property. He passed the dusty old servant’s building on his way to the fence. The power wasn’t even on in there anymore, though that didn’t stop him from using it for privacy.

Until Kara had figured out about it, and he had to go hiking instead. It wasn’t Kyle’s fault, he just wanted to be alone sometimes. He was passing, wasn’t that good enough?

The back fence was a little more formidable an obstacle than the gate so far. Beyond rusty iron topped with spikes twice as high as a man was untamed forest primeval, never harvested since the first settlers had come here two hundred years ago. The list of dangers his parents used to try and scare him away from coming back here changed every time they told him about it. Sometimes it was poison ivy, sometimes it was killer bees. Sometimes it was black bears, or brown recluse spiders. Sometimes it was fairies.

He’d only ever seen one of those.

Even Kara hadn’t figured out that there was a loose bar in the fence on the other side of the empty stables. He bent it out of the way, then clambered through to the other side.

“I’d let you come with me if you weren’t so busy,” he whispered to no one. Back far enough in time, and Kara always would’ve gone with him on adventures like this. But the older they got, the further apart they became. He wasn’t really a fan.

There were no roads back here, not with a national park only a half hour away. With natural hot springs and waterfalls to explore within driving distance, few in town bothered to walk out here. Maybe it was illegal or something? Kyle neither knew nor cared.

But there were trails, if you were alright using something animals had made. Deer he guessed, which he encountered so regularly now that they didn’t seem terribly bothered by his presence. He didn’t bring a phone, not even for music. Leaving it at home with the volume all the way up on the ringer was a way to make sure his parents would know when they called him that he hadn’t brought it. No matter how upset they sometimes got.

A light breeze ruffled the trees around him, carrying away the first yellow and orange leaves of autumn. Soon would come a month of beauty, before the snow and cold made hikes like this impossible. Where would he run to next?

He walked along one of the familiar game-trails until it took him to the river, then followed the bank up the mountain a little way. Google told him he could follow it back for miles if he wanted, and climb most of the way up the mountain. But he’d never been quite brave enough to go backpacking alone.

Kyle might not know what he was doing at school, but he knew the sounds of the wilderness. Squirrels in the trees overhead, bees bringing in what they could for their last desperate days of collection before the winter freeze, the gurgling of water against the rocks. A little further there was a familiar beaver-dam, with a pond that hadn’t even existed five years ago.

He stopped as he reached it to eat his poorly-made sandwich and watch the beavers repairing their dam for a few minutes. As usual, they pretended he wasn’t there, chewing rhythmically at the young trees and dragging them off to add to their construction.

He heard it through the trees, a sound so strange that he nearly dropped his lunch. It sounded so… human. He’d never met another soul out here, let alone one so young. More like an infant than anything else, bawling into the wilderness. It wasn’t constant—more an occasional burst of noise, then it would get swept away in the water or the beaver’s incredibly loud chewing.

Kyle rose, turning in the direction of the sound. If he had to guess, he would’ve said it came from far away, but shrill enough that it carried well. He had to be imagining things, right?

He stood in place for nearly a minute straight, listening closely. Finally he heard it distinctly. It was crying, at least a mile from civilization.

There was no reason for any sounds to have followed him out here, certainly not desperate infants. In spite of all reasoning to the contrary, they had. He started jogging, tossing the rest of his sandwich onto the ground for the beavers. Hopefully they liked subs.

He couldn’t keep running ahead forever, since the sound of his own footsteps would cover the distant, infantile desperation. He had to stop for a few moments at a time, listening carefully, then reorienting himself. This is really stupid. I don’t know where I’m running. How am I going to find my way back? No phone meant no GPS, no TrailSmart app.

But if there was really a small child lost out here, then he wasn’t going to take any chances about it being discovered. Unlike him, a baby really did have reason to fear the wilderness. There were coyotes, poisonous plants, thorns. He had to find it before it wandered too far.

He ran for a few minutes, scrambling over rough slopes and up the side of the mountain. Up paths he never would’ve dreamed to take, past cliffs that clearly did not want him there.

Finally it was loud enough that he could hear the sound clearly over his own heavy breathing, resolving into something that certainly was an infant, with desperation in its voice so sincere that it urged him onward.

He rounded a bend into a clearing, so quickly that he nearly impaled himself on an incongruous formation of glass or rock crystal—a wall of sharp glass spikes that looked to have torn its way through grass and rocks, emerging on all sides like a hedgehog’s quills. The crying echoed out from the center, where the ground was still flat. He reached out, confirming with one finger just how sharp the rocks really were. Or… glass?

The mystery of how the formation had gotten here faded into the background in the interest of reaching the baby.

“Hey, uh… baby?” he called, still panting from the jog. “I’m going to try to get to you. Just hold on.” Talking to it was probably a waste of time—it wouldn’t understand him. That crying was so desperate, he had to try and help even if he couldn’t reach the child.

The crying stopped. There were a few confused sounds he interpreted for relief. Even babies can be relieved, right?

“That’s good,” he said, pacing slowly around the formation. The kid must have gotten in somehow, right? Maybe it would be big enough for him. His worst fears—that the kid had been cut to bloody ribbons crawling through the rock formation, seemed mercifully erroneous. He could see no bloody handprints, only ordinary dirt and an abrupt transition to barbed glass.

He circled all the way around, and still there were no obvious passages. “I’m going to have to, uh… you don’t understand me, but I’m going to try and shatter it.” He hefted a large stone in one hand, the heaviest he could manage. Please don’t let any of the pieces fly inside. The barbs of bluish crystal were so tall that he couldn’t even see the baby, other than a faintly pinkish blur. Nothing to know if it was too close to avoid harm or not.

He swung, smacking into the crystal with a resounding thump. A single crack spread from the point of impact, shedding little bits as it traveled. So he was right—this stuff was closer to glass than rock. Probably this was some priceless geological artifact, some kind of natural formation never before observed.

He smacked again, right on the crack, driving it wider through the strange rocks. Within, the baby made another frightened, inquisitive sound. “It’s alright…” he said, still panting. “I’m… almost… through…”

One more swing, and the glass shattered. Bits of rock flew around him, as the section of crystal closest to him fell away in a few large chunks, opening up the rocklike interior.

There was the baby, somehow completely unharmed. Even so, Kyle was stunned by what he saw. He dropped his rock weakly to one side, staring into the circle and trying to process what he was seeing.

It was a baby, just not a human baby. It looked vaguely equine in nature, though calling it a horse would’ve been far from any he’d ever seen. Its coat was pastel pink, with a short purple mane and tail. The colors didn’t have the garish, artificial look of dyes, which worked even worse in animal fur than in human hair, but strangely natural. Did any animal have purple fur like that?

Any comparison to existing horses broke down after that. Its eyes were bigger than any foal he’d ever seen, with a comprehension he’d never seen in the thoughtless face of an equine before. And there was a bony protrusion poking out from its mane, twisted slightly.

A unicorn? But no stories of unicorns he’d ever read included descriptions of oversized wings, with the distinct outline of feathers. Feathers on a mammal. Everything he knew about wildlife classification—admittedly not as much as Kara—was apparently wrong.

It was also wearing a cloth diaper, wrapped securely enough around its bum that it had clearly not been made for a human baby.

He dropped to his knees, as close to looking the creature in the eye as he could manage without getting shards of shattered glass in his hands. “What are you?” he asked, reaching a tentative hand towards it. “Some kind of… CRISPR-gone-wrong dumped out in the…”

It was the best he could think of, though it didn’t survive even modest scrutiny. If it was genetically engineered by some company that wanted it gone, why leave it alive? It wasn’t human, and they clearly wouldn’t have cared about the well-being of a creature they wanted dead.

And that doesn’t explain the crystals either.

The baby was apparently growing bored with his indecision, because it started crawling towards him, making cheerful noises as it dragged itself towards shards of barbed rock, apparently oblivious.

There was nothing for it. Kyle reached down, scooping it up into his arms before it could hurt itself. In one way at least it was like a horse—it was much larger than most babies he’d seen. More like a toddler, with weight enough to strain his endurance at first. “You’re… bigger than you look.”

The animal squealed in response, pawing against the exposed skin of his arms with its hooves. As though it had never even seen naked skin before. But of course, he was probably humanizing it too much. “Alright, uh… whatever you are. I’m going to get you down from here. I don’t suppose your owners are nearby, are they?”

Now that the baby wasn’t crying, or held hostage by an extremely dangerous-looking rock formation, he could think a little more rationally about everything. This creature didn’t belong up here, and someone had obviously put it here. The question was, where were they now?

Holding her gave Kyle new appreciation for just how strange she was. The wings on her sides weren’t toys clipped into her coat, or even surgical grafts—they felt real, right down to the muscles that moved when she twitched them. All impossible, of course, despite evidence that it existed right in front of him.

The baby didn’t seem to mind how not-a-horse he was, or the fact that he was carrying her. If anything, it seemed relieved to have some company. He lifted one of her stumpy hooves, looking for brands or barcodes or anything that might suggest who her creators were. Not that he’d be signing up to send it home right away.

But there was nothing, not even the prints a helicopter’s landing treds might’ve made in the loose soil. He didn’t have a phone, so he couldn’t take a photo of the formation he’d shattered, but he could grab a piece of relatively dull glass, tucking it away into a pocket for future investigation. Maybe there were clues hidden inside to whatever this being was.

“Nothing?” he asked, more for his own sanity than because he expected an answer. “You don’t have any wisdom for me?”

The baby cooed happily, poking at his face with a hoof. Stubby and useless, but…

“You’re trying to talk,” he said. He’d only ever seen a puppy before, but it hadn’t made sounds like this. He’d seen ponies at the state fair once, and they hadn’t made sounds like this either. Of course, no petting zoo pony had real wings on its back, or a bony horn poking out of its face. So the comparison was probably pointless either way.

Almost as though it could understand him, the horse-thing stuck out its tongue, grinning at him. He returned the gesture by reflex, before realizing he was being incredibly stupid and turning back towards the way he’d come.

“Alright, horse-baby. Time to get you back to civilization. Then we can call animal control, and they can… do something for you.”

Chapter 2: Helping Hand

It wasn’t going to be an easy trip. He knew the path he’d chosen, and he began making his way back, though with such a heavy creature in his arms, he had far less dexterity. He wouldn’t be climbing anything with it, that was for sure.

No, with her. She sounded like a her when she made her not-quite-talking noises, and his instinct felt right. Female horse-monster baby thing.

Eventually he reached the edge of a rocky slope, leading back down into the forest proper. He didn’t recognize any of the landmarks, but maybe if he kept going that way, he’d find something familiar.

Kyle dropped to the ground, edging his way towards the slope, tightening his grip of the alien. “Just, uh… hold on, I guess,” he muttered. “It’s not that steep.” But that wasn’t true. He just didn’t want to look at how steep it was.

He started sliding, and after just a few feet his hiking boots no longer did a damn thing to help slow him down. The baby started giggling, or maybe cheering with excitement?

He winced, tucking his head and closing his eyes for whatever impact waited at the bottom. At least he could take the blow for the colored horse baby.

The slope leveled abruptly, dumping them onto the grass packed heavily with towering evergreens. But instead of smacking into them, he just… stopped, jerking backward abruptly. He opened one eye, looking around for what had caught him. A net, maybe, or something unraveling his shorts?

There was nothing, just the giggling baby in his arms. She nudged him with a hoof, then pointed back at the slope, squeaking energetically. “You want to go again?” he guessed, rising to shaky legs. “That’s… no. I don’t know how I don’t have a concussion right now.” His arms were already starting to ache with the effort of holding her, but he couldn’t give up now. He needed to find anything familiar, then maybe he could take a break for a minute and catch his breath.

This time, the trip was far from relaxing. Instead of letting his mind wander, he kept returning to the strange creature he was carrying. But just getting a better view didn’t give him any idea of why she was out here. There were no identification tags he hadn’t seen at first, no tattoos under her coat. Just an animal that made no sense and shouldn’t exist.

After nearly an hour of hiking, long enough that the sky began to twinge towards orange overhead, he finally found something familiar—the river.

He dropped down, lowering the creature to the ground. His arms felt like they’d been drained of blood, and he was going to have a hard time opening them again. But that could wait.

“I need a… break,” he said, settling down beside the river and lowering his boots into the cool water. It didn’t even matter if he got blisters, he just needed to breathe.

Instead of getting upset, the baby rose to stubby legs, standing entirely on her own. She grinned up at him, then lowered her head down towards the surface of the water.

“Wait, no.” He caught her by the back, pushing her away. “I know it looks clear, but it’s probably not good to drink.” He removed his pack, unscrewing the cap from his water-bottle and tilting it down towards her. “Have mine.”

She did, drinking the entire thing in a few large gasps. This seemed to satisfy her, though she was soon moving again. She didn’t seem content to wait for him to be the one to move, but started bouncing up and down the river, making more energetic squeaking calls with every step.

“I need a minute…” he said, though of course there was no point. This wasn’t just a baby, but it was a baby animal. There was no chance it would understand him. “Too bad you’re not ready to follow me. We might already be home by now if I didn’t have to carry you.”

She might not be able to understand him, but she could clearly tell when he was giving her attention, because she stuck out her tongue as he spoke, giggling quietly to herself.

“Yeah, yeah.” He didn’t wait much longer—another minute or two, and he was ready to move again. At least now he was back on a familiar track, headed towards home.

By the time he finally saw the rusting, overgrown fence, only the last distant gasps of twilight remained. There would be no climbing through the back-fence while carrying an animal, even if it was close to the stable. So he made his way around, letting the brambles tear at his arms and legs but protecting the animal as he made his way through. He winced as his jacket tore right down one side, trailing bits of cloth behind him. But there was no other way to the front of the property.

Finally he could cut sideways through some dead bushes onto the long driveway, which now had its fair share of cracks and broken asphalt.

Unfortunately for him, the little animal didn’t have unlimited patience. As they got closer, she had started making noises. Pitiful squeaks for attention, which of course meant nothing to him. “I don’t know what you want,” he said. “But this is my house, see? Once we’re inside, we’ll get animal control involved, and they’ll help you. Get you a… horse doctor. Whatever those are called.”

Hopefully you’re not really as smart as you look. I don’t want them putting you in a zoo or something. But it wasn’t really his business. He was just in the right place at the right time, that was all. Anyone would’ve done it.

The garage door was open, and all three cars were missing from inside. A minor relief, since at least he wouldn’t have to justify the disaster he was about to cause. It would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

He opened the door with a foot, then shoved his shoulder up against it and made his way inside. It didn’t completely calm the child down, but at least she did seem curious, stopping her complaining to stare at the old photos of his dead ancestors.

“You like them?” He stopped in the entryway, beside a replica suit of armor that no member of his family had actually worn. Wrong continent. “That makes one of us. It’s weird to live in a house with so many paintings. Like their ghosts never left when they died.”

The baby pawed out towards the oil painting, and he pulled her back by reflex. Those hooves were plenty dirty from the riverbank. He hadn’t even noticed during the walk, considering how gross he’d gotten at the same time.

There was only one place he could take such a dirty creature without getting a lecture when the game ended—into the kitchen, where there was tile instead of ancient carpet.

He settled her down on a granite countertop, before turning for the fridge and the old phone still wired up beside it. It was a small wonder that it still worked after all these years—and a bigger one that his parents still kept a phone book beside it. While Kyle started flipping through looking for the number for animal control, the horse-baby-thing made her way towards him. Or… not, she was interested in the fridge. She reached out towards it, starting to whine again.

Are you hungry? “I don’t think there’s anything in here you can eat,” he began, opening the fridge wide for her to see. There had been a time when it was full of leftovers from their family’s homecooked meals, but these days they mostly got takeout. Even so, the horse whined a little louder, reaching out towards something on the top shelf.

Kyle made to shut the fridge, ignoring her—and that was when it happened.

The jug of milk lifted off the top shelf, as though a shaky hand were moving it across the room.

Kyle dropped the phone book, staring openly at the jug as it moved towards her. There was no mistaking the cause of the strange effect, not when the jug glowed around the edges, a soft gold that exactly matched the shade radiating from her forehead. She’s moving it.

Not very well, though. After traveling about a foot closer to her, the jug stopped in the air, hovering unsteadily like she was losing her grip. The baby’s concentrated squint grew more intense, and it started to sag.

Kyle caught it in one hand. “You’re hungry, okay. Let’s see what… I can figure out.” It was only his sister and himself, so there was no younger sibling that made keeping a bottle around make any sense. And weren’t you supposed to heat it first? He’d never seen his parents care for a baby, so he didn’t actually know. Kara probably has all the instincts for this. Because she’s perfect at everything ever.

“Okay, uh… here.” He fished around in the cupboard for a minute, emerging with a small mug. He filled it with milk, then stuck it into the microwave. And maybe he was imagining things, but he could’ve sworn that the baby was looking skeptically at him. “I’m doing my best!” he said, wincing at her muddy hoofprints on the counter.

Finally he set the mug down in front of her, touching the liquid inside with a finger to confirm it wasn’t too hot. “There you go. Just, uh… enjoy that.” He turned his back on her, going for the phone book again. I probably shouldn’t tell them my horse is paranormal.

This time he found the number right away—it was on the inside cover, exactly where he should’ve known to look. Really he should’ve gone upstairs and got his phone, but there was no guarantee the horse wouldn’t try to follow, making everything much harder than it had to be. He twisted the rotary dial around one number at a time, then turned back to the baby as it started to ring.

She approached the cup a little like a cat, sniffing skeptically at the surface of the milk before licking at it a few times. “It’s the best I can do,” he said. “I’m bringing the experts, just hold on a little longer.” What else were you supposed to do for a baby animal? Keep it warm? If she’s this big, I don’t want to meet her mom. I bet she could gore me with a horn like that.

I should probably be freaking out more. There’s a mythical creature in my kitchen. But for whatever reason, Kyle just wasn’t that bothered. The animal was strange, and maybe its powers meant he was harboring some kind of… alien? But it was still a baby, desperate and hungry.

“Monroe County animal control, this is Laura speaking.”

“Hi,” he said, twisting one finger around the cord. “Are you guys the people I call about an… escaped animal?” As he said it, the escaped animal hit the edge of the milk-glass, knocking it into the sink in front of her with a sound of dissatisfaction. He turned his back on her—this was all the more reason for him to get the experts involved. She could wait a little longer.

The woman on the other end laughed. “Depends where it escaped from. If you’re a zoo, probably not. Otherwise, yes. If you’re missing a pet, we can check our shelter to see if anything has come in. Are we talking about a dog or a cat?”

“A… horse,” he began. “And it didn’t escape from me, I found it. I was hoping you guys could send someone to—” Kyle trailed off, staring down at his hands. He’d started glowing. The phone snapped away from him as he jerked backward. It wasn’t like a set of hands were grabbing him so much as an invisible wall pressed against his chest, irresistibly strong. He turned back around, whimpering from the force.

On the kitchen counter, he could make out Laura’s voice, too faint to understand. But she would have to wait, because more impossible things were distracting him.

“I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “I want to, but I don’t know how! That’s why I’m calling animal control. They’re going to take you somewhere with people who know how to help a… whatever you are.”

The baby didn’t understand. No matter how smart she really was, this time she could do little more than reach out towards the milk-jug, whining.

“I already gave it to you,” he said, finding he could move again. He reached down, running one hand through her mane. It was incredibly soft, despite however long she’d been abandoned out there. Like she had her own natural conditioner. “Horse thing, uh… whatever you are. That’s all the milk we have. You didn’t want it.”

He reached into the sink, replacing the mug and pouring another glass, nudging it towards her. “Now let me call animal control, please.” Maybe what he’d heard about microwaving it was wrong. As long as he distracted her for a few moments, he could make the call.

He picked up the phone, but was met only by the harsh ring of a dial-tone. He sighed, opened the phone book all over again, and started entering the number one digit at a time.

This time he didn’t get four numbers in before the strange force pulled him back again. He tried to hold onto the phone, but the force was much too strong. The receiver slipped from his fingers, banging against the floor. He settled to a stop facing the baby again before the glow faded.

That was the first time he felt afraid. There was nothing he could do to stop her from manhandling him. Despite her size, she could drag him around the room without even trying. “Hey, baby… it’s okay.” He patted her again, nudging the glass of milk towards her. “I got you food, see?”

She squealed in annoyance, knocking it into the sink again. “No? What do you want me to do? I’m…”

She started crying, shrill and echoing. If anyone else had been home with him, they’d know exactly what he’d done. But maybe that was a good thing… Kyle was in over his head again.

“Hey, hey. Settle down.” He scooped the little horse-thing into his arms, cradling her as best he could. He wasn’t quite big enough to make it work the same way he would’ve for an actual baby, but he did his best. “It’s okay, kid. I’ll… get this taken care of, somehow. I just need to call in someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

But this time, his attention wasn’t enough. She cried louder, squirming a little in his grip. She wasn’t actually trying to kick her way free, she was just unhappy. She screamed louder, and the mug sitting in the sink actually shattered. “Hey, hey…” He patted the baby on the back, hurrying through the old house. How much mud he might spread if she got loose was no longer the first thing on his mind. He needed a real phone. Maybe he should just call the police and get this over with.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He made his way all the way to the third floor, where the ancient guest wing was tucked away beside attics packed with dusty old furniture. His door hung open, into his oversized bedroom. He’d still somehow found a way to cover the floor with dirty laundry, though the space was big enough for several kids’ bedrooms all packed in close together.

The baby wasn’t quieting down this time. If anything, she only grew more frustrated as he moved. Finally she struggled free, kicking out of his arms.

She didn’t fall, but hovered in the air, her wings flapping much too slowly to actually hold her there. She hovered in defiance of gravity, wide eyes scanning the room around him.

But whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it, and she only cried louder.

“I’m sorry!” he said, trying to speak over her tears. “I’m trying to help you! I don’t know what you want!”

Her eyes focused on him again, and for the first time she didn’t seem afraid. He shuddered as he saw her expression—that determination and anger, all focused on him. He felt the force of her attention, like a laser aimed straight at his chest. Was this where he got his neck twisted like a pretzel and he died on the ground, because he’d been too stupid to realize he was in over his head? Hopefully she crawled out again before his family got home.

But it wasn’t that kind of force. The pressure holding him in place faded in time with a different sensation, a heat like an irresistible fever. Pressure built against his skin, a little as he imagined a small animal might feel if he stuck it into a microwave. So no, the baby wasn’t going to break his neck—he was going to explode. “Please…” he begged, dropping to one knee, clutching at the dresser for support. “Don’t kill me. I’m t-trying… to help…”

The pressure was too much. It wasn’t just his mental fortitude that could handle no more—his body itself was coming apart. In a single glorious flash of light, he burst apart.

Chapter 3: New Duds

Okay, maybe it only felt that way. A single burning wave of heat rushed through his body, dropping him to the ground in an instant and completely overwhelming his senses. He didn’t scream, because he was far too stunned for that. He didn’t kick or struggle. He barely even breathed.

For a few seconds he lay on the floor, utterly insensate. His body came slowly back into alertness, like an old computer warming up overworked circuits one system at a time.

He was on the floor, he could tell that from the distinct rub of carpet against his skin. There was something wrong, like someone had wrapped him in a sheet that made the floor further away than it should’ve been. What happened to me? Had he tripped on something and banged his head against his dresser? Was this what a concussion felt like?

He wanted to curl up and go to sleep, wait for the pain to pass and for his senses to put themselves back together. But there was desperate crying nearby, crying that needed his attention now more than ever. It didn’t even enter his mind that he should’ve remembered that voice, and that it belonged to what was otherwise just an animal to him. All that mattered was that she was crying, and that he needed to help.

“I’m… coming…” he croaked, wincing at how strange his voice sounded in his own ears. He must’ve really banged his head for it to echo that high-pitched. Maybe he should call 911 and get an ambulance on the way before he found whoever was crying.

His vision came back abruptly, cloudy and out of focus at first. There was the familiar bedroom floor, and the bed rising above him, and… bits of torn rag? Like a scarecrow had ended its life in a paper shredder all over the floor. But he couldn’t feel sympathy for it, because of the sudden barrage of other inconsistencies.

Why was there a pink lump right under his eyes that moved when he did? Why did his fingers and toes still feel completely numb? How could he feel the dresser pressing up against his shoulder, with a leg simultaneously touching the bookshelf eight feet back?

“Something was… something was happening…” He groaned, tried to sit up, and found his spine unwilling to cooperate at first. But if he ignored the persistent discomfort in his lower back, he could finally sit up.

And immediately wish he hadn’t.

His entire body was… replaced. His clothes were completely gone, transformed into the rags that coated the floor. His naked body was entirely covered in fur. There were gangly legs trailing down from his chest, bending inward and ending in flat stubs. And what he saw trailing away made even less sense. The barrel of an animal, with nothing even resembling human anatomy the further he looked. That had to be a tail further down, in two different shades of blue. Matching the strands of hair that hung suddenly over his face as soon as he looked.

It all came crashing back—the alien creature he’d rescued in the woods, and her increasingly paranormal abilities. An innocent-looking creature, desperately in need of help… that changed into a monster as soon as he couldn’t get her what she wanted. It felt like she was going to kill him… and in a way, what she’d done was almost worse.

If she can do it, she can undo it. Take a deep breath, Kyle. You’re not dead. He did, though the further down he looked, the less confident he was that his present situation was any better than death.

And she was still crying. A constant, droning yell that echoed all around him and made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. The monster-baby was more disturbed than ever. No matter how angry he felt he deserved to be, the need to care for her was stronger. He had to help, even if he wanted nothing to do with her right now.

Take it slow. You have to calm her down to change you back. Figure it out, Kyle. You can do this.

He would have to figure something out, and fast. If his parents had gone to the game to see Kara do her cheer thing, he had another hour or so before they got home. Two if they went out to eat after.

“Alright, baby-thing… I need you to fix this now.” He tried to stand, and this time his spine rebelled completely, flinging him forward. He caught himself on his hands, but instead of uncomfortable the sensation felt natural. Without thinking, his back legs slid into place, and he stood up properly, staring at his reflection in his bedroom mirror.

It wasn’t just that the baby had made him into a horse—he was like her, only older and more mature. There were wings at his sides, and a horn so long that he could probably poke the ceiling with it if he jumped. Unfortunately he was also positively gigantic—like a fair pony had wandered into someone’s bedroom after giving rides. At least the scraps of shed clothing had plenty of other dirty laundry to get lost in.

Kyle did his best to ignore the feminine sound of his voice, looking down on the horse-creature. “Hey, uh… baby? Do you think you could put me back to normal, please? I’m not supposed to be… any of the things you did to me right now. Please?”

The absurdity of the situation struck him like a weight. Here he was asking a crying infant to fix something for him. Just one more thing for the list of things that didn’t make sense. At least it wasn’t physical confusion with his body, which he could barely control. His arms—forelegs—didn’t bend in the ways he expected, and having constantly numb fingers certainly didn’t help

The baby looked up at him from the edge of the bed, and stopped crying abruptly. Her eyes went wide, and somehow Kyle could feel both confusion and relief from her. She didn’t know what she’d done? Or she didn’t consciously know. In any case, she started clambering towards him, close enough to the edge of the bed that she might’ve gone tumbling.

Kyle turned sideways, blocking her with the side of a now-considerable body. The boards creaked and strained in protest with each step—but this house was built to an older standard, and he wasn’t quite as big as a real horse. Or maybe he was just too young to be fully grown?

The baby didn’t slip off to get lost in his dirty laundry, so at least he’d done something right. “Now that you’re calm, I need you to do… whatever you did before. It hurt, but… just put me back to the way you found me, okay? Reverse this, before anyone gets home and thinks a wild animal got into the house.”

Though realistically speaking, he didn’t think anyone would be mistaking a pink and blue winged horse as wild. Though as he considered it, an even darker fear entered his mind. Maybe the reason this baby acted smarter than a baby animal was that she was a human baby, or had been. Maybe it wasn’t intentional at all, but some kind of… disease, and now he was infected too. And once his family got home, it would spread to them.

His eyes lost focus as a nightmare scenario ran through his mind, of himself as the catalyst for the end of civilization. Obviously horse-monsters wouldn’t be able to run a civilization, that was given. Once it spread to everyone, they would be galloping though the fields within a generation. Unless there won’t be another generation.

He felt the pressure suddenly, causing such a strange cascade of sensations that he was frozen in place for nearly ten seconds straight, struggling to process what the little horse was doing to him. There was a slight pulling sensation, and a sudden relief of pressure he hadn’t even been able to explain before. He might not have been able to figure out what was going on at all, except for the sound.

The baby was nursing. Whatever relief might’ve come from not being able to see behind himself and know faded in an instant of absolute clarity. I’m not a guy. It isn’t just a voice thing.

Something visceral wanted him to spring away in horror, maybe scream at the monster that had done this to him. She was right there, entirely within his power—yet he didn’t move. There were other instincts too, foreigners in his body, but stronger all the same. He needed this. It was the thing the baby had needed, and the milk he’d tried downstairs hadn’t been able to provide.

So he didn’t run, and he didn’t scream. He suppressed his anger, until what began as a roar of indignation faded. He was just as upset, he just… couldn’t imagine expressing it the same way.

I’m probably being mind-controlled. This is even more insidious. Be furious, act. But just thinking those words didn’t make him feel them. The anger just wasn’t sincere.

“I understand how… desperate it can feel to be hungry. Today wasn’t your day. Ditched in the woods all by yourself, having to rely on a loser like me for help. But I’m still going to need you to reverse what you did. When you’re… when you’re done back there, I want you to change me back to normal.”

He was still talking to a baby. A very smart baby, perhaps… but could a baby have the wherewithal to change him back?

He couldn’t have said how long it took the baby to finish—the strange location of his anatomy didn’t make it easy to check on it. But eventually she let go, squeaking weakly in satisfaction.

Kyle turned, glaring down at the creature resting on his bed. “I need you to change me back now,” he said, gesturing up at his own portrait on the wall. A soccer picture from several years ago, when he’d been in the same league as Kara. But it was the only picture of himself he kept up. It was the only year he’d ever won anything. “Like that, see? Only older. I don’t want to be twelve again. But you get the idea.”

The baby did not get the idea. For a few seconds she watched, babbling incoherently to herself. Then she stretched, curling up on the bed and spreading her wings. While it would have a hard time fitting Kyle anymore, she had no problem finding enough room. She closed her eyes contently, and was soon sleeping peacefully.

Just seeing that, after the baby had been so distressed all day, pushed aside all his discomfort and fear.

For a few seconds.

The baby asleep didn’t actually mean things were better for him. If anything, he was now in deeper, since the one who had done this and might be able to reverse it was now asleep.

At most, I have an hour and a half until my family gets back. Even so, he didn’t wake up the baby. Something about her resting there made her seem like she shouldn’t be disturbed. Or maybe it was more alien mind-control? How would he know?

Maybe I can do it myself? I look the same as she does. Probably in more ways than he wanted to think about.

Kyle crept away from the baby, made easier by the thick carpet and miles of dirty clothes. He reached the door, then shoved it closed with his shoulder. Locking it was a little harder—he could reach up a leg towards the lock without too much trouble, but getting the mechanism to turn took patience. But the hoof wasn’t just a flat slab, there was tough skin underneath, almost as sensitive as his fingers had been. If he moved very slowly, he could still twist the lock around.

At least this old house had one thing going for it: size. He moved into the nearby sitting room, where he could pace and think without disturbing the sleeping child. His pacing amounted to a few steps then a sharp turn in the opposite direction, dodging the moldering old couch. Even large spaces transformed into small ones when you were almost seven feet tall and probably even longer than that.

Alright Kyle, think this through. You’re an… alien. The baby transformed you into its food source. No one will recognize you, no one will believe you. What do you do?

He could call the police, and they’d never believe a single word of this. Maybe if he was lucky animal control would drag him off. The same fate he’d imagined as the most humane thing he could do for the baby was now his own nightmare.

Option two, try to convince Mom and Dad anyway. He still had his memories—he knew their family vacations, where Kara kept her diary. He knew the combination to the hide-a-key and which bush it was hidden in. He knew their birthdays and favorite foods. If they listen to you. If they can even understand you.

“It still… sounds like I can talk…” he muttered. There was that voice again, a little higher than Kara’s and strangely more musical. But just because it sounded right when he was a horse thing didn’t mean it would be something his family could understand. In all the movies, animals could understand each other but never talk to people. Would it be the same for him?

He slumped onto the ground, his weight making the old boards strain to hold him.

I’m fucked.

Chapter 4: Bad Luck

Kyle was rapidly running out of time.

If there was at least one mercy for her, it was that they’d certainly gone out for dinner, buying her a little time to not get thrown out onto the street as some dangerous genetic anomaly. But that time was running out now—when they got back, she was going to have to explain this.

Or maybe I don’t have to. As she paced back and forth in the corner of her bedroom, her mind raced. The baby had clearly been panicking—she’d been desperately hungry and not sure of what else to do. Maybe all she needed was a good night’s rest, and she’d have the energy to fix what she’d done wrong. I don’t have to hide forever, just one day. Could she buy a day?

Kyle crept back into her bedroom, reaching up to remove a sheet of paper from her printer. It wasn’t easy—getting the tray to open with a flat slab of fingernail ending in meat might as well be impossible. After fiddling with it for five minutes or so, she just bent down and took it in her mouth. It was strange, but now she had it open. She took the paper the same way, carrying it out of the room before coming back for the fattest, roundest marker she could.

She held it down with one hoof, using the other to pry off the lid. She wouldn’t be able to write with it in any normal way, but her mouth was working for most things so far. How long would it take to move things the way you do, kid? Maybe if she was going to be stuck like this for any length of time, she’d at least be able to Matilda things around, and wouldn’t feel so disabled.

“Sick, went bed” she wrote, in writing so sloppy it might’ve been scribbled by a small child. But it was something, hopefully enough that they’d see it and not come in for her.

The garage door began to rumble downstairs right as she finished, and Kyle hurried forward, sticking the note to the door with a messy blob of tape. By the time she shut it, she heard feet pounding up the stairs. Kara is here to chide me for missing the game. Kyle shut off the light, then crept slowly into bed. As she climbed in, the baby stirred, rolling towards her and moaning weakly.

Kyle moved instinctively, wrapping a stupid hoof-leg around her in a way she hoped was protective and comforting. “If you cry right now kid, we are both fucked.”

But she only cooed a few times, then settled back into her uneasy sleep.

Outside the door, the footsteps stopped, and paper rustled.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Kara muttered. The door clicked as she turned it anyway—but it was locked. Kara swore under her breath. “Kyle, I know you’re not sick! I saw you a few hours ago!”

Kyle winced, clutching the baby a little closer. Was that going to wake her again? No, apparently. She didn’t even stir. But she didn’t dare answer—even if she wasn’t afraid of waking the baby, she’d already heard how different her voice sounded. Kara would hear too.

“I’m just trying to help you,” Kara said, a little weaker. She tried the door again, then sighed. Footsteps faded back down the stairs, and finally the hall was silent.

I’ll apologize for this as soon as it’s over, Kara. She only had to wait the one night, it couldn’t be that hard. Tomorrow the baby would be feeling better, and everything would be back to normal.

Kyle woke with a grimace, her world coming slowly back into focus. She’d had the strangest nightmare, something about getting locked in a petting zoo for little girls. And before that, something even stranger about hiding from her family as a horse. “What a nightmare.” She reached up to run a hand through her hair, trying to coax her brain into waking up. Her fingers still felt numb, but she could still feel some part of her hair. It didn’t end when she expected, instead trailing longer and longer as she felt it.

Something was in bed with her, something warm and squirming. She squeaked, sitting up so violently that she scattered pillows and blankets all around her. Her neck didn’t want to move quite right, and even so the room felt smaller somehow, the bed straining to even hold up her weight.

And beside her, the squirming mass of feathers and pink fur that she’d had nightmares about.

Oh god.

It wasn’t a dream. Her hiking to avoid the football game, finding that weird animal in the woods, bringing it back… then the real nightmare started. She glanced down, shoving the blankets out of the way and ignoring the whining sounds from beside her.

Yes, that part was real too. Those were teats down there, swollen enough to make it obvious what they were for. It was harder to get a view past them, but she could see enough.

She almost screamed… but then the baby started whining, and some other instinct rose to the top. She’d scare the poor kid if she did that, and scaring her was exactly what Kyle didn’t want just now. Take it easy. She’s the only one who can fix this. I have to calm down so she can change me back. Nice and easy…

Unfortunately for her, the kid wasn’t just lying there calmly and letting her figure things out. The baby kept squirming towards her, making a desperate sound and gesturing at herself. Too smart for an animal, let alone a baby.

“What do you—” She froze as the smell hit her, and she understood. Of course—the baby was wearing a diaper. And sooner or later, those had to be changed. “Oh, of course. The reason I never wanted kids. What a great time to only have my mouth to do things with.”

There was no way in hell she was going to use her teeth for that. “Uh… why don’t you come this way? Let’s… yeah, you look pretty dirty. Want a bath, sweetie? We didn’t get the chance after your adventure through the woods. I’ve got one of those giant old tubs, maybe even big enough for me…”

Was she imagining things, or did the baby look indignant?

I’m just projecting. Don’t lose your cool, Kyle. “Okay, okay! We’ll get that off first, obviously. I wasn’t… going to put you in the water first. Let me think…”

She moved to the edge of the bed. She tried to settle one hoof over the edge, but her new legs didn’t want to bend any of the same ways. Instead of rising gracefully, she fell forward, catching herself with her forelegs inches above the dirty floor. “Right, quadruped. Of course. This makes perfect sense.” She inched forward with her forelegs, dragging herself along until her back legs yanked off. At least she could stand up, so that was something.

She circled around to the other side of the bed, looking sympathetic. “I don’t even know where the hell we’re going to get you diapers. If I can… not until everybody leaves again.” She glanced to the side, frowning. “You can’t understand me, I’m not sure why I’m even bothering. And we’ll have to cut them for your tail and hope they’re even big enough. I never heard of anyone putting diapers on a horse before…”

That was apparently more of a delay than the baby could handle, because her little horn started to glow again. Kyle stumbled backward, falling onto her rump loud enough that the bump resounded through the house. “W-wait! Don’t… don’t blast me again! Please, I’m trying to help you, kid! I really am!”

Her fear proved to be in vain, however. The alien glow from the baby’s horn didn’t translate to her as it had done before, and turn her into something terrible. Instead she yanked the diaper away, tossing it across the room with a look of disgust. The baby had even thrown it towards the garbage can, though how she’d known what that was, Kyle couldn’t tell.

“Oh.” She grinned with relief. “Well that’s… a great solution. Now how about a bath? That would make you feel relaxed, right? Make you feel good enough that you’d like to reverse whatever weird stuff you did to the one who saved you from the woods?”

The baby squeaked energetically, bouncing towards the edge of the bed. It didn’t seem like she’d actually understood anything. Obviously she wouldn’t, she was just a kid. But she looked cooperative, and maybe that was a start. “Here, uh… crap, how can I…” She walked up beside the bed, twisting to the side. “I guess just… climb on my back? I can’t really carry you the way I did before.”

Could she do that? Apparently so, because she felt the kid scramble up a moment later. Maybe she can understand me? If so, she was frighteningly young to have that kind of comprehension.

She crossed through the bedroom, past the old sitting room, and finally into the bathroom, flicking the light on with her nose as she passed. She refused to look anywhere near the many mirrors, though she could see the pink and blue fur out the corner of her eye anyway.

“Every little kid likes bubble baths, right? I’m… not actually very good at this. Babysitting is kind of a girl thing, and…” The old knobs tasted coppery and metallic in her mouth, but that was better than what she’d almost endured. Soon enough there was warm water flowing. She didn’t so much pour the soap as knock the open bottle into the water, filling the tub with a slew of white bubbles.

The baby squirmed over her neck and head towards the water. Kyle got as low as she could, so the kid wouldn’t hurt herself when she slipped off.

“I’m… really going to have to think of something to call you,” she muttered. “You must have a name, right? Not just some horse… I can’t keep calling you ‘baby’.”

Even if she didn’t know the first thing about childcare, she knew she could never leave the little horse’s side when she was near the water. She wasn’t going to be responsible for the kid drowning.

She looked the kid over, from the interlocking colors of bright purple and pink to her softer coat. If she’d been dyed, it was resilient stuff, because the water was white as snow from the soap. “Could I call you… Pink?”

She tilted her head slightly, sticking her tongue out.

“Alright, alright. Not Pink. I guess that’s not much of a baby name anyway. You could just tell me your name if you’re so smart.”

Instead of answering, the baby reached down with a wing and splashed a huge wave of water in her direction, washing over the side of the tub and splattering her. She squealed, her own wings spreading reflexively as she tried to shield her face. “H-hey, they actually did what I wanted that time!”

The excitement didn’t last, though. It was cool, but it was really just a reminder that she was an oversized horse-swan hiding from her parents. I’m not going to have them for much longer. It’s okay. We’re almost there. She’s calm now, and she’s comfortable. She’ll change me back.

She settled back onto her haunches beside the tub, watching absently. “When we’re done here, I’d really like it if you could change me back,” she said casually. “It seems like you can understand me, and… I’d like to be myself again. There are people who can care for you, special animal control people. Or maybe we can find your… creators? Parents? Whoever. They’ve got to be out there somewhere.”

But the baby wasn’t listening anymore. She splashed and flopped around in the tub, giggling to herself as bubbles went everywhere. She was getting clean… or something like clean, anyway. Even without knowing how to care for babies or animals, Kyle felt like she should make sure she at least got all the dirt out. But how was she supposed to help her with the bath if she didn’t have hands?

I need to figure this horn thing out if I’m going to be stuck for much longer. If a baby can do it, it’s gotta be simple. She rose to her hooves, backing up a little and darting back into her room. Her stupid hooves made what would’ve been silent a riot of thumps on the floor, but she returned a few moments later with her picture in her mouth. She set it down beside the tub, pointing. “Okay, kid. I need you to change me back now. I think you’ve had your fun. You got to eat, and now I think it’s only fair that I get to be me again. Just…” She tapped her horn, then pointed at the picture.

“You make me this, yeah? Change… me… back.”

The baby squealed, splashing her again and giggling. The water was getting high enough now that it was easy for the kid to make a mess. Kyle twisted both the knobs off, and debated getting in herself. It felt like the natural thing to do—but another part of her mind resisted. Too weird, and it would be weirder if the baby actually listened while she was still in there.

“I’m not asking for much,” she squeaked, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve tried to help you, kid. I didn’t leave you out in the woods. I’m trying to take care of you. But… it would be easier for me if you make me human again. I have class tomorrow, and I can’t go like this. If my parents find us, they’ll call the police right away, and… I’m not sure I’ll ever see my family again. Don’t you care?”

The baby tilted her head to the side, walking a few steps closer in the bath. She rested her head gently on Kyle’s neck, cooing again. Was she trying to be reassuring? They weren’t words, just more baby noises. Like a dog comforting their owner in distress, but… moreso.

“I’m not asking for much,” she said. “You did it once. If you can make me into a horse, you can make it go away! It can’t be that hard. You’re a magical unicorn thing! Every little girl’s wish come true. Please.”

The kid kept hugging her, or whatever hugging meant for a horse without any arms. But she didn’t speak, didn’t cast any magic spells. By the time Kyle had stopped crying, she was still very much a horse.

She doesn’t know how to change me back, she realized, and the weight of that settled on her shoulders like a backpack filled with textbooks. I’ll have to find another way. Or maybe I’ll be stuck forever.

Her stomach grumbled, loud enough that even the baby giggled and poked her. “Yeah, don’t say it. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

The baby didn’t seem to get it, which wasn’t terribly surprising since she probably couldn’t understand her at all. “Alright, fine. You’re not changing me back. Until you do, I’m going to call you what I want. Something magical, so, uh… how about… Fay. I think it fits the way you’ve been acting.”

She stuck out her tongue again, though Kyle imagined she wasn’t resisting nearly as strongly as before. “Okay, it’s settled. You’re Fay now, at least until you give me another name.” She spread her wings dramatically. “Last chance to stop me, and…”

The baby only tilted her head, watching Kyle’s wings more than her face.

“Alright, Fay it is. Can’t say I’m happy about what you’ve done to me, Fay. Anytime you want to fix it, that would be great.”

But she didn’t seem to want to, or understand any better what Kyle was even asking for. Eventually she gave up and helped Fay out of the bath, drying her with several towels hanging in the corner.

Then she heard the banging on her door, echoing through the open bedroom. “Alright Kyle, enough hiding. I can hear you’re up in there. I don’t care if you open the door or not, because I’m coming in.”

Chapter 5: Old Friend

Kyle’s mind raced, and she turned desperately towards the door. It shook and rattled, and something metallic slid inside. She only had seconds then to stop her, before she found her own way in. Her voice would sound absurd, but at least there was still a chance of fooling her with it. She clutched the little bundle that still held a damp and squirming Fay in her forelegs, as though some instinct demanded she protect her even from Kara.

She cleared her throat, making her voice as low as it would go. It still sounded more like Kara doing an impression of him than the real thing, though. “I’m so sick,” she said. “Don’t… come in. You’ll get sick too.”

The door stopped moving. “Holy crap, Kyle. You sound shitty… I’m definitely coming in.” The lock clicked, then the door swung open, and Kara strode in.

She stopped just a few steps into the doorway, staring slack jawed at the two of them. Even wearing just her morning bathrobe, Kyle could see Kara’s legs twitch—like she was trying to run away in terror, but couldn’t quite muster the strength.

“I don’t have an explanation for this,” Kyle said, still speaking as low as she could. Though she suspected the illusion would come off as even less effective without the walls to distort her voice.

“Oh, good.” Kara caught herself on one of the posts of Kyle’s bed, wrapping an arm there and holding herself in a standing position only with great effort. “That makes me feel so much better.” She closed her eyes, running two fingers along her temples for a moment. “Please tell me this is some kind of… extremely gay ventriloquism project?”

She laughed bitterly. “I wish.” She rose, half to put herself between Kara and Fay, and half to shut the bedroom door so none of their conversation would reach down the hall towards her parents. But even as she reached out, the door swung closed, and she didn’t move. Thanks breeze. “That would be an explanation, and I just told you I don’t have one. Well, sorta. I have her.” She moved her forelegs to the side, exposing the bundle of fluff and feathers that was Fay. The baby squirmed and shuffled nervously, squeaking until she put her legs back. Apparently humans made her nervous.

“Oh, of course!” Kara seemed to be collecting herself more and more by the moment. “That makes total sense! The horse that sounds almost like my brother has a smaller horse. Thanks for clearing things up.” She slumped down to the edge of the bed, groaning. “What drugs did you slip me, Kyle? Dick move, whatever it was. You know it takes more than one day for this stuff to come out of your system. We have school tomorrow.”

“No drugs!” she insisted. “Fuck I wish I was drugged right now.” She reached down, unwrapping Fay from the towel and gesturing to the side. “I went hiking yesterday, and I found this little cuti—creature, abandoned by herself in the woods. She didn’t seem like any animal I’d ever seen before, so I brought her back. I was going to call animal control and see who’d lost their exotic pet.”

“Exotic pet?” Kara repeated, voice indignant. “Do you need your prescription adjusted, bro? That thing is pink. She’s got bones sticking out of her head, and wings, and… she’s some kind of… mythical creature.” She glanced at the door once, shivering.

You’re right to be afraid. But Fay was feeling the agitation too. Even if she couldn’t understand English, she clearly wasn’t happy about Kara’s tone. She made a few frightened sounds, scurrying behind Kyle.

“Your story leaves out the most important thing,” Kara went on. “The part where you tell me how you’re a fucking horse.”

She sighed. “I wish I understood. After I brought Fay back here, I tried to care for her. But she wasn’t happy with the job I did. She… blasted me. From her horn. I woke up like this, and I’ve been trying to get her to fix me ever since.”

Kara glanced between them, mouth hanging open. It looked like skepticism, and Kyle could hardly blame her for that. But she hasn’t doubted who I am yet. That’s something. Considering as bad as she’d imagined—with Kara screaming at her, or calling the police, or something else horrifying—this felt almost polite.

“Talk about screwed,” Kara said. She reached out with one hand, touching the edge of Kyle’s wings. Then she yanked, pulling out a blue feather.

“Hey!” Kyle squealed, jerking her wing back. “You can’t just… that bloody hurt!” She pulled the wing in close, licking at the sore spot where the feather had been removed. It probably didn’t help her look more human, but it hurt!

“Real,” Kara said, turning it over in her fingers. “Now I’m going to, uh… go get dressed. And if I haven’t collapsed from an overdose, and this feather hasn’t disappeared, we’re going to have a talk. I guess we’re gonna talk either way, I just won’t be very happy that you lied to me.”

She got to her feet again, still holding to the bed to keep herself standing, and turned to leave.

“It’s not a lie or a trick,” she called. “Please, just… don’t tell Mom and Dad. I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do about all this. I’m just hoping that it’ll all sorta… fix itself? Maybe it’ll wear off?”

Kara laughed, though her voice sounded more crazy than amused. “I won’t say anything yet. But if this is real, Kyle, you’re going to have to tell them. You really think you’re going to be able to fix this on your own?” She slipped out the door, shutting it quickly behind her.

Meanwhile, Kyle’s companion was apparently hungry too, judging from the way she was nudging at her legs. So maybe she hadn’t been trying to hide from Kara after all.

“I don’t really want to let you do tha—” But that was a lie. Even thinking about her brought that alien pressure back to the forefront of her mind. Not feeding her was more painful than just fighting the shame of it. “Fine.” Finally she rose to her hooves, looking determinedly away from Fay and back into her bedroom. “I should’ve asked Kara to bring some breakfast or something. Did I leave any snacks in here?”

Then came more sensations that didn’t make sense, ending with a gradual relief of the pressure she’d been feeling all morning. The baby-horse’s bizarre curse had forced her into their weird symbiotic relationship—even if she wanted to escape feeding her like this, she wouldn’t be able to without feeling like she was going to explode. But how could she be angry at a baby?

Ten minutes later and Fay was clearly feeling better, judging by the way she bounced energetically past Kyle to inspect the half-open door to the closet. There rested the toys that had once been her life, long enough ago that she could barely remember. She reached out, and the clear box filled with thousands of multicolored Lego bricks lifted right off the shelf.

“Wait!” she said, hurrying to catch up. “There’s no lid on that, sweetie, you’ll…”

Almost as though she could understand her, Fay giggled, and spun the entire thing upside-down. A mountain of different-sized bricks dumped onto the floor at her hooves, with little yellow figs scattering from the point of impact. “That’s… yeah.” She sat down beside her, glaring. “Babies aren’t supposed to play with Legos, lots of little parts. I’m watching you, Fay. If even one of those goes in your mouth, I’ll take them away. Got it?”

She cooed happily, shifting through the pile with uneven waves of golden light. Thousands of blocks scattered at the force, leaving behind only the ones she was most interested in. Mostly the people figs, though there were some wheel pieces and plastic animals as well.

I still need to get you a diaper before you make a mess on my floor. She watched in relative silence for a few minutes, alert to the baby trying to put any piece in her mouth, and creating even more trouble for her. Because despite being much larger, and theoretically having the same powers as the kid—she didn’t actually know how to use any of them.

“How do you do that?” she found herself asking, though of course she didn’t expect an answer. “Moving things around… your horn lights up, and they just move on their own. I can see why you’d want an adaptation like that, with stupid stumps like this.”

Her attention seemed to work. Fay turned towards her, dropping the stack of attached figs she was making and babbling something.

“I’m going to pretend you’re trying to answer me,” she said. “Thank you. I wish I knew how to do… whatever it is you just said.” She reached out with a hoof, trying to pick up a nearby piece. But even getting the proper leverage on just one regular brick took more precision than she could manage with a stupid gigantic hoof.

The door swung open again a few minutes later, and Kara slipped nervously inside. She’d dressed in casual clothes for a Sunday at home, though she was wearing a hoodie and the hood was pulled over her head. Are you really going to put the hood up when you’re doing something shady?

She clicked the door closed behind her, holding the blue feather in two fingers. “It didn’t disappear, and I’m not drugged. I did one of those drug test things on YouTube.”

She spun around, finally seeing the two of them in the corner of the room. Her eyes wandered past Kyle to the glob of a structure Fay was building by sticking pieces together. “Y-you’re… what poltergeist shit is this?” She pointed a shaking hand at the ball, her face twisting in horror.

Fay mimicked her fear, following her gaze as though she expected something terrible in the closet. The ball tumbled to the floor, exploding in a shower of bricks all around them. The baby whimpered and squealed, then started to cry.

“H-hey…” Kyle reacted instantly, scooping her up as best she could with awkward forelegs. “Hey, they’re just Legos. They’re supposed to break.” She spun slightly, so she could meet her sister’s eyes. “That wasn’t nice, you know. She’s a troublemaker, but she’s just a baby.”

“You’re… insane,” Kara said. She wobbled for a moment, glancing at the door for another second, then folded her arms. “I was just about to say I accepted what I was seeing had to be real. There was… some reason we couldn’t understand. But that? I’m running out of explanations, Kyle. Is this why you’re so antisocial lately? Demonic possession?”

Her tension and anger wasn’t helping little Fay calm down any faster. If she got much louder, even the ancient house’s thick walls wouldn’t be enough to keep the sound of crying from getting downstairs, into the ears of whichever parent happened to be home. “Shh… hey, it’s okay. Calm down, Fay. This is just Kara. She’s my sister, and she’s nice. Okay?”

It probably wasn’t her words, but the calm in her voice and the constant motion seemed to be having an effect. Fay sniffed, whimpering, climbing weakly onto her back. It seemed a natural place for a little horse to be, considering she was a much bigger horse.

Bigger than Kara, for that matter. She’d been taller than Kara since puberty, but now she could probably pop on a saddle and give her a ride around the property without much difficulty.

“How do you know her name? And… why do you sound so much like me? You haven’t sounded like that since we were ten.”

“I made it up,” Kyle said, ignoring the second question completely. It wasn’t as though she was wearing anything. She’d probably be dying of embarrassment about that right now, but at least being a horse had some advantages. Anything she didn’t want her sister to see was behind her, out of mind. Until Fay is hungry again and I feel like I’m going to pop.

“Hey, can you bring me something to eat? Like… I’m so starving I don’t care what. But I don’t think I should just head into the kitchen downstairs and make breakfast for myself.”

“Dad would love that,” Kara said. “Seriously, you’re asking about food? I just said I thought you were possessed, and all you can do is ask for Eggos?”

“Please,” she repeated. “Like… maybe a dozen, with syrup and butter and—” She probably would’ve gone on, but Kara’s indigent expression silenced her. “I don’t want Mom and Dad to see.”

“I can get breakfast,” Kara finally said, exasperated. “That’s a few minutes away from that Satan baby. But I hope you realize you can’t keep hiding for very long. You think you can pull that note to get out of school tomorrow? You really think that Mom won’t want to take you to the doctor? And when she comes knocking…” She gestured. “There’s a county fair in your bedroom, you sound like me, and also maybe some low-key ghostbusters shit.”

She wasn’t gone for long—but all this excitement was apparently too much for the baby on her back. This time Kyle carried her to the sitting room, dragging a few blankets along in her teeth. She did her best tucking her in for a nap, then shut the door.

Unfortunately her room was only becoming more of a mess the more time went by, and now she didn’t even know how to clean it. Or how to fix the chaos in the rest of her life. Priorities.

When Kara returned with an overflowing plate of waffles, she set all that aside for something much more important: food.

“I hope you thought about what I said,” Kara said, settling the plate on the edge of her desk. “You can’t hide from this and hope it will go away. Or… I assume you can’t. That actually might not be true.” She glanced around the room, eyes settling on the shut door. “What happened to the little nightmare?”

“Resting,” Kyle said, settling onto her haunches in front of the desk. She reached for the fork Kara had brought… then realized how stupid that was, and just took an entire waffle in her mouth. If she was waiting for some strange epiphany about how the powers of an abomination horse worked, she would need to keep waiting. Or maybe she should keep her eyes open for a chance to be part of a mythical training montage?

“So what the hell is your plan, Kyle?” She settled onto the edge of the bed, glancing around the dirty room with barely restrained disgust. “You can’t seriously just be hoping it wears off before Mom and Dad notice. You’ve got to tell them.”

“Okay, sure.” She turned slightly, glaring over her shoulder at Kara. “How am I supposed to do that? How do I tell Mom and Dad that a supernatural horse I saved in the woods transformed me into her babysitter? ‘I’m a horse now! It’s not a phase, gosh! Lots of kids have to nurse a baby horse before they graduate.’”

“Uh-huh.” Kara’s eyebrows went up. “Foal, by the way. Nurse a foal. And I wouldn’t think… you do sound like me.” She twisted suddenly around, lifting Kyle’s tail with the back of one arm and squealing in surprise. “Oh my gosh. I was right!”

“Yeah.” Kyle’s ears flattened, and her wings slouched weakly off her back. “Thanks for rubbing it in. I should kick you or something.” She didn’t, though. Somehow, a situation which would’ve been indescribable horror to her a few days ago was now only mildly annoying. She twitched her tail a few times, until Kara let go, and went back to the rest of the waffles.

They tasted weird in her pony mouth, not sweet in quite the ways she expected. They were strangely… flat, and processed. She craved something with a bit more texture to it. A fresh salad, maybe, maybe in a 50-gallon drum. But she was hungry enough that she wasn’t going to say so, and she kept going until the entire plate was empty.

“I don’t know if there’s a way to tell them,” Kara said. “But I’ll tell you what’s even stupider. Hiding up in your room until they find out unexpectedly. With my help, you could… let them down easy?”

She laughed, her voice bitter. “Oh yeah, easy. Nothing easier than finding out your son is a horse. Happens to everyone.”

“Unless this is some kind of… magic spell, and it’s going to wear off, you’ll need to tell them,” Kara repeated. “It might be impossible, but it’s not different than any other problem. You’ve got to march through it, and you’ll survive on the other side.” She slipped one hand into her pocket, removing her phone, spinning around suddenly to pose beside her. “Smile!”

You’re kidding me. She didn’t smile, but she wasn’t sure her expressions would even be that clear for her sister to read. Even so, she waited until she’d finished. “And what the hell was that? You’re taking selfies with me now?”

“In case it does wear off!” she said. “You’ve got to admit, this is crazy. It’s the kind of thing you’re going to wish you had pictures of when you’re older. We’ll laugh about it during family reunions.”

“I hope so,” she said, her head slumping against the desk. Hard enough that the old wood actually strained under her weight. “At this rate, it feels like those reunions are going to happen at the zoo.”

Chapter 6: Better Help

“I don’t know about how to fix this…” Kara began, as soon as she’d emptied her plate of anything remotely edible. “But I know one thing: you can’t stay in the house.”

She turned to stare, glaring down at her. “Where else am I supposed to go?” She reached out to point towards her room, and where the baby was resting even now. To her surprise, she realized her wing had moved instead of her leg. And now that it was out, it took some concentration to fold it back into place. Just stay still, please. This is hard enough to deal with if you’re not in the way.

Kara didn’t falter. “You’re going to get caught if you stay in the house. You’re so… big, and babies are noisy as hell. But if we put you somewhere else, we might be able to buy a little more time for this to wear off. Assuming it’s going to.”

She could only shrug. “I fucking hope it will. I’m not sure what else I can do if it doesn’t. The baby’s smart, like… way smarter than you expect. But I don’t think she can just do it because I ask.”

“Maybe you could?” Kara suggested. “You look like her, only bigger. She made someone to be her mom. Presumably you should have all the same powers she does, only better. Right? If a baby can change you into a horse, can’t you just change yourself back?”

Kyle thought about it, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t actually know how much of the strange powers she could wield. “I mean… maybe. But I don’t know how.”

“Exactly.” She reached out, resting a knowing hand on her shoulder. “That’s why you need my help, bro. I know what we need to do. With my help, I bet you could hide… three days? Maybe two. How long until the school calls about you missing class?”

She shrugged. “Maybe that’s a good idea. But there’s one fatal flaw: I’ve got a baby. I can’t just hide in the woods with her, she won’t put up with that.”

“Why not?” Kara snapped. “She’s an animal. Don’t horses usually live out in the wild? If she’s upset, so what? What’s she going to do?”

“I…” She shook her head. “I don’t think she’s an animal the way we think of it. She can reason. When she grows up, she’ll be as smart as I am. Or… way smarter, probably.” She rose, pacing back and forth in front of her. She couldn’t move too quickly—even walking slowly was enough to echo through the house. At least there was carpet, or else everyone would be able to hear the horse walking around. “And if you’re asking why we have to keep her happy… that’s probably the stupidest question there is.”

She spread out her wings—easier than doing anything useful with them. “Look what she did to me. You want to be next? Walk us out with a tent and see what she does.”

Kara frowned, looking down deep in thought. It was the same expression she always had when she was considering something. “Even if we went to those old empty rooms… we’d be able to hear you from there. Dad would find you in an hour.”

“It was a good idea, Kara. But there’s nowhere for us to go. It’s not like we can hide in the stables.”

Kara’s head snapped up, a grin spreading across her face. “That’s genius! Of course! Unless they’re walking right past, nobody goes in there. What should you pack?” She looked around, grinning. “Not clothes. You’re already naked. Maybe a saddle? That’s already in there.”

“No,” Kyle snapped. Though her voice was halfhearted. She knew when Kara had won, and this was one of those times. Actually acting it out was just formality. “I’m not an animal either. How long has it been since we had horses? It’s gross, it’s probably full of spiders…”

“The lights still work,” Kara countered. “And there’s water, too. There might be spiders… but there’s bugs in the house too, Kyle.” She rose, wrapping her arm around Kyle’s neck. She was only just tall enough to reach. “Think about it! I can sneak out anything you need, and cover for you while you figure out your…” She gestured vaguely with a hand. “Magic?”

“It isn’t magic,” she muttered, glaring at the floor. But Kara was right about everything else. If she wanted to buy more time, she wouldn’t be able to hide in the house for much longer. “I’ll need snacks,” she grumbled. “And my computer. And probably some toys so the baby doesn’t go crazy with boredom.”

“Sure!” Kara took a few steps away, deep in thought. “Mom and Dad are going out to lunch in a few hours. I’ll tell them we’re working together on a… homework assignment, so they don’t take me. Get anything together you want to bring. We’ll only have a little while to get everything moved in.”

She grinned, bouncing towards the door. “We’ll make it work, bro! We’ll get you back on your feet.” The door clicked closed behind her.

I’m already on my feet. It’s the number that’s the problem.

She didn’t have long to get ready, but Kara was right about just how little she could actually use. Getting her laptop into its case was an effort of precision and learning what anodized aluminum tasted like. She tossed it in a duffel, along with some old stuffed animals. If she was very lucky, her computer would be able to get Wi-Fi out there, and they could watch something.

At least Fay woke without crying loud enough to wake the whole house, or wetting the bed. She’d take what blessings she could, under the circumstances.

Kara came in about an hour later, flinging the door open wide this time. “They’re gone, bro! Time to move!”

She gestured at the duffel, entirely unzipped since she couldn’t manage the zipper with just her mouth. “Could you throw some blankets and stuff in there for me? I don’t want to sleep on a concrete floor.”

“No.” Kara folded her arms, looking stern. “If we take your bed apart, Mom and Dad will take one look and know something’s up. We’ll have to borrow camping stuff from the garage.” She paused, apparently distracted by Fay. Kyle turned to look, feeling her chest stir with worry. Had she got into something she wasn’t supposed to?

No, apparently. The foal was working her way over, pushing a fallen pillow towards them. She wasn’t terribly coordinated, and the pillow kept getting caught on things. But the baby was determined, grumbling quietly to herself whenever the pillow stopped moving.

“Fine.” Kyle didn’t have time to argue—their parents might be back at any minute. The longer she waited up here, the less she could do to prepare the stables to try and live in. “Come on, Fay. We’re going somewhere.”

The baby squealed with glee, turning towards her and bounding across the room. One of her hooves caught on a pair of jeans, and she flipped forward onto her face, landing with a thump. Soon she started whimpering, eyes watering.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kyle bent down, using her head to lift the baby up onto her back. The attention seemed to work, because she didn’t do more than whimper. “You’re fine, Fay. We’re going somewhere… different.”

Kara stared at them both, face softening.

“Don’t even think about it,” Kyle snapped.

Too late. There was a flash of a phone camera. “You two are adorable. How’d you learn to carry her like that?”

“I have no idea.” She shoved past her, then out the doorway. Her hooves clopped loudly on the hardwood, echoing through the house. She’s right about hiding somewhere else. She couldn’t help but think, even more cynically: Just think of it like preparing for the rest of your lives. You’ll be stuck in a stable as soon as you get caught and animal control comes for you. Might as well get used to it. “Don’t forget my duffel. I don’t have any hands, so…”

“Got it, bro,” Kara said from behind. There wasn’t enough space for her to walk along beside her—Kyle was just too big. But she followed her down the stairs anyway. Kyle took things nice and slow with each flight, watching where she put her hoof carefully. She couldn’t risk letting it slip, and giving the baby a fall that might actually hurt her.

I shouldn’t let her reprogram me into caring if she gets hurt. She’s the reason I’m like this. I should hate her.

But she didn’t, and no number of times thinking that would make a difference. Fay giggled as they made their way down, squirming a little on her back. But she seemed to understand the danger involved, and she didn’t roll off the side. That was good, since Kyle wouldn’t have been able to stop her.

Eventually they rounded the ancient suit of armor on the ground floor. Fay squealed and pointed with a hoof, making a noise that Kyle interpreted as urgency, or maybe recognition.

“Sorry,” Kyle said. “We’ve got to go somewhere else. We can’t hang out in here.”

“She sure does look excited about it,” Kara called. “The reflection, maybe? Babies love shiny things.”

“You know more about them then I do,” Kyle grumbled. “Until yesterday, I didn’t think I’d see a baby of my own for another decade.”

“Through the kitchen,” Kara said. “I want you to take a look through the crisper and see if you can eat anything. Easier to bring you food if I’m not wasting time with things you won’t eat.”

That process turned out to be quick—one sniff at just about anything she saw, and Kyle knew she could eat it just fine. Her mouth was watering again in fact—that plate of pancakes just wasn’t enough. “Put the apples in the bag,” she said. “They’ll keep outside the fridge. “And… the carrots too. We should leave the rest, so it doesn’t look like we robbed the place.”

“Apples and carrots.” Kara grinned at her. “No reason those two in particular? Aren’t those, like… what horses eat?”

“And I’m a horse,” Kyle finished, cutting her off. “It all smells good, I just… want stuff I already know I like. Just put it in, Kara. Are you helping me or not?”

Kara raised her hands defensively. “Alright, Alright.” She got to work, packing in what food she could amid the toys and her laptop bag. “Honestly, you don’t look much like a horse, Kyle. Except for the size… that’s about right. But your legs aren’t right at all, they’re not all bony.” She felt something warm on her wing, extending it awkwardly and pushing several feathers out of place. “Not to mention these, and your face. Horses are all long and… mature? But you’re small and cute, even though you’re not small at all.”

“Thanks,” Kyle muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were just looking for another way to call me that.” She turned towards the back door. “I guess I should be glad that you aren’t asking to ride me.”

Kara covered her mouth in mock shock. “I wouldn’t dare, Kyle! That would be rude! Besides, you’re probably not broken. Disobedient horses are a nightmare, take it from me.”

“As the only one with the equestrian experience, I trust you implicitly.” She bent down, using her mouth to turn the doorknob and open the door to the garden. Most of it was dead of course, though the statues and concrete benches were still here. The hedges had survived, though they’d become thorny and overgrown without tending.

Kyle slowed as she passed the birdbath, eyes darting instinctively towards the clear water collected there. But there was also a film of sticky brown algae along the bottom, looking entirely unappetizing. “Grab a big bowl too!” she called over her shoulder. “I need something to drink from.”

No sooner was she out the door than she felt Fay begin to squirm and fight. She slowed, holding out her wing all the way. “Hey Fay, stay up there. You don’t want to fall.”

The baby giggled and squealed in response, then flopped in the other direction. Kyle spun rapidly, eyes widening—but her fear was in vain. Fay was hovering in the air, her wings not even moving. She grinned proudly, sticking her tongue out.

“Very nice.” Kyle moved to grab her, but she floated back, just out of reach.

The door clicked shut, and Kara stopped beside her, frozen and staring. “Uh… what the hell is she doing?”

“You called it magic,” Kyle said. “I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to call it.” She followed the baby. “Come on, Fay. We’re going this way.”

That worked—if she wasn’t trying to grab her, the baby seemed content to follow obediently enough. She drooped low, inspecting a hedge, and pulling away again as soon as she saw the spines.

“Come on,” she urged again. “This isn’t… quite the way. Over here!”

“You want me to grab her?” Kara asked, rolling her eyes. “If she goes up too high, the neighbors might see.”

“You want to risk her blasting you too?” Kyle asked. “Might be easier to explain to Mom and Dad if it’s both of us.”

Kara retreated a few steps. “You know what, you got this. I’ll start moving things into the stable. You head in there as soon as you grab her.”

Chapter 7: Put Out

Kyle had hoped they’d just head straight in, but the baby had other ideas. She wanted to explore the grounds, and Kyle couldn’t fight the thought that trying to grab her would only make her stay further away. She followed close enough, making no attempt to grab her again and urging her towards the stable.

Whatever gravity-defying “magic” the baby was doing, at least it seemed to take her energy. Eventually she started to sag in the air, expression turning frustrated as she started to dip. Kyle moved quickly, snatching her out of the air and settling her into place on her back. “Alright, sweetie, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to get settled in our doghouse.”

Fay squeaked happily, her legs kicking out weakly. “Yeah, you had fun. You probably would’ve liked it more when there was still a garden out here. More to see than overgrown statues and lots of mud.”

She crossed the grounds quickly, resisting the temptation to try running out in the open. It was nice to have open space around her, and not have to worry about being caught. At least for a few minutes. Just so long as nobody comes out for a walk and notices the hoofprints going everywhere.

The stable building looked even sadder now that she knew where she was heading. The century-old tin roof sagged in places, and each of its thin windows were well above eye level and impossible to shut. What a great place to spend the day. A cement floor and a few dark rooms.

Some part of her was actually relieved that the proper stable door wasn’t open. Kara had left the side entrance swinging open, rather than the huge wooden ones that would ordinarily be used for horses. She didn’t feel self-conscious about having to stoop to squeeze through, or having her wings catch on the doorway as she moved. I hope I didn’t leave any of these feathers in the house. That would be a hard one to explain.

A single naked bulb hung on the celling, lighting a storage area filled with dusty equestrian equipment. There were helmets, crops, brushes, other things she had no names for, all in various stages of decay. Here were the spiders, ready to creep across the room and bite while she slept.

Not gonna think about that. You’re an alien horse with an alien baby who could kill you with her brain. Maybe focus on that one.

The stables themselves had divisions for three horses, though the old wood between them would probably collapse with a slight breeze. At least the ground was clean cement—she’d half expected it to still be covered with gross stuff.

The smell was still here, almost exactly as she remembered. The years without an actual horse to occupy the stable hadn’t done much to mellow it out.

“Does my room smell like this?” she asked, making her way to where her sister was piling up supplies. She’d spread a picnic blanket out on the floor nearby—At least there was something a tiny bit better than naked cement.

“Not really,” she answered, tilting her head to the side. “Though it did smell like… something in there.”

“The kid had a diaper when I found her,” she supplied. “I think we’ll probably have to get some. And… maybe you could empty the trash up there for me, just to be safe?”

“My sister gets pregnant and I’m the one who does the chores,” Kara chided, grinning mischievously. “See Kyle, this is why you pay attention in sex ed. You wouldn’t be in this position if you’d used magic protection.”

Kyle shoved her with a wing, finding that it responded almost exactly how she expected this time. She couldn’t push as hard as she could manage with one of those thick legs, but it was enough to make Kara stumble backward. “Hey!”

“If you were the horse right now, I’d be nicer about it,” she said, dropping to the ground and settling Fay down beside her.

The baby took a few nervous steps towards the edge of the blanket, her eyes wide and frightened as she looked out at the darkened stable with its many strange shadows. She tucked her head in near Kyle’s side, then closed her eyes.

Kyle draped a wing protectively over her, without even thinking. “Anything else you want, princess?” Kara asked. “Since I won’t be able to check on you again until tonight, not if we want this to stay secret. If they don’t watch when I leave on my evening jog, I’ll make sure everything is okay then.”

“Uh…” She glanced at the pitiful-looking duffel. “Every sleeping bag we have in the garage, and maybe, uh… maybe the propane lamp?” She looked around again, without getting up. There was a hose on the wall, and a drain in the center of the room. Not so much as a sink, let alone a toilet. “How am I supposed to use the restroom in here?”

Kara shrugged. “A horse needs help with that? I thought you just usually sorta… went.”

She rolled her eyes. “Horses, maybe. But I’m not. And I don’t think the baby is either, since her family had her in a diaper.”

“Her owner, you mean,” Kara corrected, bending down beside Kyle and inspecting the baby for another few seconds. Kyle wasn’t even surprised when she pulled out her phone for another picture.

“That doesn’t go on your fucking Insta,” he snapped. “Not now, and not ever.”

“I wasn’t going to…” she began. “Until… it’s over. Then they won’t know it’s you!”

She groaned, but didn’t argue. At this rate, she wasn’t sure it would ever be “over.” No sense denying her sister her fun when she was already being incredibly helpful. She could’ve screamed and turned this into a nightmare. Fay might’ve blasted them all, or maybe animal control would just shoot us. “Fine, fine. Just get the rest of that stuff before Mom and Dad get back.”

She returned a few minutes later, with her arms full of camping supplies. She dropped them onto the ground beside Kyle, loud enough that she twitched reflexively, pulling Fay a little closer to her. She could tell the baby was getting antsy about not eating, but she’d put that off. Being naked around her sister was already weird enough. “I got everything except the light,” she said. “Unless we black out the windows or something, we’ll probably even have to turn off that light when it gets dark. You know Mom—if she sees a light on, she has to come out and switch it off.”

“Save the trees,” Kyle muttered back, groaning. She rocked gently, holding Fay back. Just a little longer, sweetheart. Please don’t kill me. “I don’t like the idea of hiding in the dark all night. Look at how gross this place is. I can’t even clean it up without hands.”

Kara shrugged. “Sorry, Kyle. But you should be worrying about learning kung-fu and the mystical arts, not how dark it is. See if the baby can give you any pointers. Once you’re back to normal, you can come in.”

She reached into the duffel, lifting up something Kyle hadn’t even seen until then. She hadn’t been the one to put it inside. A change of clothes. “This is for when you’re back. You know, so you don’t make Mom and Dad check you into an institution.”

“Got it.” She leaned forward, resting her head awkwardly on Kara’s side. Even sitting down, she could almost reach her eye level. “Thanks for helping me through this, sis. I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t believed me.”

Kara wrapped an arm around her, as awkward as ever. “Of all the people who didn’t need this in their lives right now, you would’ve been number one. Just hold on, bro. You’re smart, you’ll figure this out. I’ll get you as much time as I can.”

She let go, then turned back to the door. “I’m going to lock it from the inside, just in case. I stole the key from the closet—hopefully looking for a spare is too much trouble to bother, if anyone else comes this way. For… whatever stupid reason.” She clicked the lock, then stepped through and pulled the door closed behind her.

Or was that because you don’t think I can open locks? You think I’m gonna run away or something stupid? I’m the one who didn’t want to go into the wilderness, remember?

Fay squeaked again, nudging her side sharp enough that she winced. “Alright, alright. I just didn’t want her to see.”

Kyle rose to her hooves, twisting to the side. It was time for another embarrassing ritual.

It probably wouldn’t be if it weren’t for how strange everything felt. It was the opposite of pain—Fay seemed to be operating on the same frequency she was. Kyle had known she was going to be hungry more by the pressure she felt than anything the baby did.

I’m going to have some fucking wild stories to tell about this when it’s over. I’ll never lose those lying games ever again. ‘Remember Loki? Yeah, I did that too, but without the extra legs.’

When Fay was finished, she seemed to want to lay down again. She hadn’t been up for long—but she was a baby, so it wasn’t that surprising. Kyle stretched out one of the puffiest-looking sleeping bags, then settled another on top of it. “There. That should be comfortable, right?”

Fay looked up in her direction, spreading her wings in the expression that Kyle imagined was indignance.

“Look, I want to be inside too. But this is what we get.” She gestured around with one of her own wings, retreating a step. Were her eyes watering? No, the air was dusty from being undisturbed so long, that had to be it. “If you wanted somewhere nice, you should make me human. I could tell Mom and Dad I found you, and I’ve been taking care of you. They’d probably be thrilled I finally took an interest in something, and help with anything I asked. Just… poof me, go on.”

Instead of poofing her, Fay curled up on the makeshift bed, covering her face with a wing. Was that the baby’s way of expressing unwillingness to talk to her? No way she’s that smart. Stop anthropomorphizing her. At least she was soon asleep, leaving Kyle to her own devices at last.

Her own devices, trapped in an abandoned building on the back of the property, with a single lightbulb that they wouldn’t even be able to use.

Fay had already demonstrated she was a sound sleeper, so Kyle took a chance of retrieving her laptop bag. Getting it open wasn’t so hard, though the lock on the computer’s lid was a little harder.

Then it opened, and the little infrared scanner flashed.

“Windows 10 can’t quite recognize you. Sign in with your PIN?”

No fucking kidding.

She reached out, then stopped a few inches from the screen. Her hooves were covered in dried mud. Even if the touchscreen did recognize “hoof”, she’d never be able to press those little numbers.

Metal. I need something conductive. She fished around in the bag a little longer, emerging with a pen in her mouth. She made sure it was retracted, then lowered her head to the screen one key at a time, until she was logged in. There was at least one mercy for her today: the Wi-Fi worked.

It took her almost ten minutes to google “turned into horse.” The results were unhelpful. She tried “horse wings horn” and got new age artwork of majestic winged creatures, with huge white wings like swans. Nothing that even remotely resembled the creature on the ground in front of her, or even herself.

She tried “horses” next, with similar results. She did look over a few of the first image results, struck by just how unlike her they looked. We might have the same basic shape, but Fay and I don’t have anything else in common with you. Those eyes in particular seemed flat, just as she remembered. Would it be better if I’d learned to ride and care for horses like Kara? Could I use any of that to help Fay?

Probably not without hands she couldn’t.

She spent another hour or so keeping a sharp eye out for creepy bugs, and going through the painstaking process of logging into Tor and checking a prominent paranormal forum on the dark web.

There was a veritable smorgasbord of conspiracies and “sightings” provided with different levels of falsified evidence, but nothing close to what she’d been hoping for. Her search for “horse” just referenced back to mother horse eyes copypasta.

Dammit.

Kyle smiled into her crappy webcam, and took a photo of herself looking bewildered and confused. Compared to how slow she did everything with the pen, waiting for the upload on Tor took no time at all.

She called her thread: “Help: Am Horse”

If she had a way to write properly, she’d probably put every detail she could think of. But with each keystroke taking several seconds of concentration, she wrote as little as possible.

“Found weird baby horse--she made me this. Please help.”

She stared at the screen for several minutes more, listening to the distant sound of a lawnmower as her dad started it up for Sunday chores. She winced as it got closer, glancing sidelong at the baby. The stable had thick insulation and sturdy walls, but if Fay was startled badly enough… was any wall thick enough to keep her?

Fortunately, she didn’t wake. When the baby wanted to sleep, she slept.

The sound got closer, then further away again, and no one stormed the door. No one replied on her thread either, which was more disappointing. Didn’t they like her poorly lit webcam photo? The backdrop of rotting wood stable would fit right in with some of the eastern-European-looking scenes of abandoned houses and rusty tools she usually saw there.

I’m wasting time. Changing back is the only thing that matters. No one online is going to be able to teach me how to use these powers.

Chapter 8: Somewhere New

She already knew how to start: the power that the baby seemed to use the easiest, and which would simultaneously make her own life improve the fastest. She needed to learn how to move things with her mind.

She resisted the urge to just open the old Matrix movie and watch that. She never would’ve thought reality was a simulation before, but now… maybe whoever ran the whole thing was just playing some incredibly unfunny joke with her. Next she’d be in a pool somewhere, and find the stairs removed when she wasn’t looking.

Instead she opted for something simple: a sleeping pad balanced on its side. A little push was all the roll needed to fall over.

Don’t feel stupid, she thought, settling down on her haunches about ten feet away. This isn’t some occult garbage. You know it’s possible. Fay does it over and over. If a baby can do it, you can do it.

She bit her lip, and stared. What would it feel like to move something without touching it? She imagined reaching out and pushing it with an invisible hand, pushed and shoved and persuaded against the air Matilda-style. Without success.

After several long minutes, her horn started to throb.

Not her head, though that was certainly part of it. But the feeling was higher up, extending out into the air in a way the rest of her head obviously hadn’t.

It was a little like the one time she’d had a migraine, like she could feel her brain pulsing with every heartbeat. Fortunately it was like a migraine in only one way, and there wasn’t a wave of nausea and lights flashing in her eyes. She rose, groaning quietly to herself in disappointment, making her way to the duffel bag. “Stupid mattress,” she muttered. “If I’m gonna be a genetic experiment, at least give me weird powers.”

She reached down, lifting an apple from the bag, and held it right in front of her to bite.

Held it entirely unsupported, in open air.

She squeaked in surprise, jumping back and spreading both wings so wide they scraped the walls. The apple fell, landing with a juicy thump on the cement, before rolling slowly away. “Dammit, scared me Fay.”

She turned, expecting to find the baby grinning mischievously up at her, proud of her little deception.

Fay hadn’t moved. As she watched, the baby opened one groggy eye, then rolled over. Her horn hadn’t been glowing, and she showed no sign of having actually been doing anything.

Was that… It couldn’t be that easy. She hadn’t even been trying anything specific. Shouldn’t there be some kind of… mystic wisdom involved?

She reached absently for the fallen apple, without moving from where she was sitting. The apple lifted into the air, settling there beside her outstretched hoof.

This time she didn’t scream and back away, or do anything else that might risk angering the baby. She just stared, trying to figure out exactly what she was doing.

There was a slight pressure on her forehead, subtle enough that she hadn’t noticed it over the throbbing. It pointed directly towards the apple, even when she tilted her head in one direction or the other.

“Woah.” She moved one leg under the fruit, without effect. Yet somehow it seemed to be pushing back on her regardless, as though muscles she couldn’t even see were working to hold it up.

She started panting, and the apple began to sag. She might even be making the same face Fay had made, after holding herself in the air a little too long. She grunted, then winced as the perfectly-good apple smacked into the ground again, splitting right down the middle this time. And this is how we get bugs.

She dropped back into a sitting position, reaching up to massage her sore forehead with a hoof. It might be flat and useless, but she had remarkable flexibility with her forelegs. That horn was more sensitive than it looked.

Progress, she thought, before bending down into the bag and removing another apple in her teeth. She took a few quick bites, dodging the core as best she could. There was nothing spectacular about the fruit, except that what would’ve been a sizeable breakfast of pancakes felt entirely inadequate. It’s not my fault. I’ve got to eat for two.

So she finished every one of the apples in her bag, and the one on the ground for good measure, piling up the cores in an empty bucket. Then at long last she started to feel full, and her headache faded.

Could it be connected to how much I eat? Magic powers must take some kind of energy to work, right? But what kind of energy did it take to change her from a teenager of average weight into a small horse? She might not have the best grade in AP Physics right now, but she was pretty sure the math didn’t add up on that one.

I don’t have to know how it works, I just need to figure out how to do it. Don’t get distracted, stupid.

She yawned and stretched, walking back and forth across the room with nervous energy. Now that the terror of her first night was winding down, she felt increasingly uncomfortable to just be sitting still. Too bad Mom and Dad are still here. Maybe I could sneak out in the middle of the night and run. Except that she’d leave muddy hoofprints all over the property if she did that. She was already taking a chance leaving the marks of her passing wherever she went.

Eventually she gave up on taking three steps and awkwardly turning around, and tried turning a shelf into a desk for her laptop. Whatever she’d figured out with the apple didn’t seem to be enough for the weight of a whole shelf, and she ended up dragging it along with her mouth. At least no spiders leaped out to try and bite her.

By the time she had it in place in the cleanest section of the stables, Fay was up and moving around again, exploring to the edge of the blanket then retreating again, with a nervous eye for the broken stables themselves.

It’s pretty dark outside. I should probably switch that light out. Kyle reached for it, and it clicked from across the room, plunging them into near-total darkness.

The baby’s horn began to glow a second later, a pale green that pulsed from brighter to darker. She squeaked nervously, reaching toward her.

“You don’t like the dark?” she asked, her voice melting into a sigh. “Me neither.” She sat down on the edge of the blanket, scooping the baby up into her grip. Fay squealed and relaxed as soon as she was being held, but the comfort didn’t seem to last. Her horn went out, and she started pointing out into the stable, waving a hoof energetically.

“That’s… really smart, sweetie,” Kyle muttered. “Telling me about things that way. I guess you’re a pretty old baby.”

Fay squirmed, beginning to hyperventilate. Even Kyle knew what she was about to do—it was the prelude to crying.

“Hey, hey, I don’t want to live in here either! But it’s the only way to keep safe until I figure out how to change back. If you want to change me back, we can walk inside right now.”

The baby wasn’t terribly interested in changing her back, it seemed. She sniffed and began to cry, lifting into the air and slipping out of her grip. Of course the door was locked, and this time there was nowhere to go, so all she could do was bob up and down, not committing to getting too far away, but not getting close enough for Kyle to grab her.

Thank god we’re not in the house right now, Kyle thought, rising to her hooves and reaching out for the baby. But whatever she thought she’d done with her “powers” before might as well have not happened at all. “Settle down, Fay! We don’t want to get cocky out here, even if we don’t think we’ll be overheard. Maybe cool it with the glowing? We don’t want this place to look haunted or anything. If a bloody exorcist comes for us…”

She answered with a squeal, sticking out her tongue.

“Hey, hey, I want it to be good too!” She bent down, removing a stuffed ferret from inside the bag and holding it up. “Hey, what about Taylor here? He’s cute, right? I used to love this guy.” And seeing it float in the air like that is going to be in my nightmares. She tossed it up towards Fay, and finally there was some sign of movement.

Fay lunged for it, catching the stuffed animal and hugging it close with her forelegs. For a moment her voice caught, and she looked around with wide eyes. Kyle could practically sense the gears turning, as she decided whether or not to continue her hysterical breakdown.

“See, look how much fun he is? I’ve got a few more if you want them too…” She bent down, picking up a stuffed fox with her mouth. “This one’s Flynn, isn’t he fun?”

Fay took the second doll too, though she was still watching the room around them with obvious fear. Maybe I could put up a tarp to block off a small section. Could black out the windows too…

Fay threw both the dolls back at her, hard enough that they bounced painfully off her face. She glared furiously around, wings spread on both sides of her even if she didn’t use them.

This time, Kyle did feel it. Like the hair on her whole body was simultaneously standing on end, along with powerful pressure against her forehead. It’s the horn. It can sense whatever power we’re using!

“Don’t do it, Fay! Whatever you’re about to do, it isn’t going to make our situation better, it—”

Her horn went from a faint glow to an eye-searing white in less than a second. Kyle didn’t wait this time, but jumped to the side with all her strength, desperate to be out of the way. One blast had already turned him into an animal, what could the next one do?

It surged around her, filling the stable without touching her at all. Kyle slumped to the floor, momentarily overwhelmed by the light. We’re fucked. That demon-baby is going to kill me. “Fay, you’re not going to… stay hidden very long if you keep doing things like this!”

She groaned, cautiously opening her eyes and looking down. But whatever faint hope she might have that the process had been reversed was instantly dashed. Those were still pink-furred legs down there, ending in stupid hooves.

But that was one of the few things that hadn’t changed.

She wasn’t standing on a hard cement floor anymore, in a dark abandoned stable. Warm white light filled the space, illuminating plush carpets themed with bright red hearts.

The broken stables were gone, replaced with an open hallway leading to a spacious… crib? It was made of that same strange crystal-looking stuff that Fay had been inside when she first appeared, a warm blue with red accents in more hearts, with a comfortable-looking mattress at the bottom.

There was also a huge cushion in another corner, with a squishy look that Kyle knew instantly was for nursing. She could lay on her side on that, instead of standing up naked like an animal.

Fay landed on the ground in front of her, panting heavily but looking remarkably smug. Kyle’s stuffed animals were still there, along with the laptop now sitting on a shelf beside… baby supplies? An entire rack of diapers, in a wooden box covered with blobby almost-letters and a few grinning horse faces. The duffel, sleeping bags, and food hadn’t come with them apparently—they were just gone.

“Where the hell did you take us?” Kyle asked, pawing nervously at one of the walls. Clean wallpaper, with little smiling horses circling around a sun-and-moon pattern. Yet for all that, the actual shape of the room wasn’t any different. The wall ended exactly where he expected, trailing away from the light of the strange overhead lamps.

Fay squealed, reaching towards her with both forelegs.

Kyle bent down beside her, pulling her in close. “Is this where you came from, Fay? Is this… where you were created?”

The baby giggled happily, rocking back and forth in her grip.

“Yeah, I can see what you did. Really supersized Taylor and Flynn too, didn’t you?” She bent down, picking one up in her teeth and settling it onto the ground beside them. No more dirty cement, no more worry about spiders hiding in the corners. The floor felt soft and comfortable, even against her sensitive underbelly.

But if she could change me, of course she could move us. She should’ve brought her phone… how was she supposed to call for help now?

Something rattled in the distance—a key in a lock. At least Kyle wasn’t going to be left wondering about where they’d been brought for long.

A door swung open, and Kara stepped out of the gloom, wearing jogging shorts and a tank-top and staring around in open shock. “So, uh… you’ve been redecorating,” she said. “I like the new look. Very ‘holy shit what is going on.’ It’s in season this year.”

Chapter 9: Making Do

For a moment, Kyle was entirely paralyzed by her sister's presence, as though what had happened in the stables was her fault instead of the baby's. But it only took a few seconds for her to recover enough to respond. She stepped slightly to the side, separating Kara from Fay. Whether she was protecting her sister from the baby's incredible magic, or the alien from her sister's rage, that she couldn't have said. "You think she could just change people?" Kyle asked. "Well... okay, I thought that too. We were both wrong."

She gestured around the room with a wing. She was getting pretty good at controlling it now, or at least pointing it where she wanted it to go. Whether they could somehow fly... that didn't make sense. Eagles were pretty gigantic animals, and they could fly. But seeing a creature like her in the air would be taking that to another level. "I think it's... subconscious? Looks like she's trying to make her world in ours or something."

Kara made her way into the stable, shutting the door quickly behind her. She moved slowly, possibly feeling small compared to all this horse-sized furniture. She circled towards the baby, and without thinking Kyle backed away. "There are diapers here," Kara said. "Why the hell would there be diapers?"

"Because she was wearing one when I found her?" she suggested. "Oh hey, that's a really good idea. Fay, I need you to stay calm for a minute while Kara here puts one of these on for you. I'd do it, but—" I'm still not convinced I can do something that takes so much dexterity with a bone poking out of my head. "She's got hands, and I don't."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "You're making an awful lot of assumptions, Kyle. Like me wanting to be anywhere near her." She looked around the room—then pulled her phone out of her pocket and started snapping pictures. "This is the craziest thing I've seen since I found you. Fucking nuts."

"I know," she said, exasperated. "I'm with you all the way, Kara. But..." She turned towards the baby. Fay was hiding behind one of the little stuffed animals. Well not so little anymore. That's a strange selectivity from your magic, kid. Why did those get to stay when so many things didn’t? “Come on, Fay. Kara is going to get one of these on for you." She reached to the side, levitating over one of the diapers without thinking of it. "See? I bet you'd rather be wearing one, wouldn't you? You wouldn't want to make a mess in this... physics-defying abomination you've just created from whole cloth."

"You’re not even trying to say things she'll understand," Kara muttered, annoyed. At least she wasn't hiding in the corner of the room anymore—she stood beside Kyle, looking down at the diaper. Then her eyes widened. "Wait a minute. Did she do that? Your, uh..." She held a hand up over her head. "Your thing is lighting up."

"Horn," she muttered, glowering down at Kara. "Yeah, it's me. I've been practicing. I can't get it to do anything useful, like change me back, but... I figured I should start with something I could actually figure out."

Kyle watched nervously—for a minute it looked like Fay wouldn't actually put up with Kara's help. But then she started giggling, putting Kara at ease enough to actually try touching her.

When the diaper was finally on, and another disaster was averted before it even began, Kara backed away again, getting out of reach. "Kyle, do you realize what all of this means?" She gestured around the room. "Like... this creature. I guess you knew she wasn't natural, but... this is insane."

"Fay," Kyle corrected. "Her name is Fay. I don't think she likes it when you call her that."

Kara rolled her eyes, reaching out and mussing Kyle's mane. "Yeah yeah, right. Fay is some kind of reality-bending... time and space kinda deal."

"I think she might be like Q," Kyle said. "She didn't like how dark and awful it was in here, so she changed it. When she was hungry, she made me. Like a... baby goddess or something."

Kara did not seem reassured by that hypothesis. If anything, her expression only grew more terrified. "That could be, bro. But if it is... don't you think we should call... somebody? For like... the good of civilization or something?"

Without thinking, Kyle picked Fay up in her non-physical grip, holding her against her chest. "She's just a baby, Kara. I know she's scaring us... but she just wanted someone to help her. She's not causing any harm."

"Except by ruining your whole life, turning you into a freak of nature, and transforming our stable into a crazy..." She looked around. "Nursery. For giant horses."

"Exactly." Kyle crossed the room to the crib, depositing Fay inside before walking back over to Kara. He'd been a little taller for the last few years now, but she was still adjusting to just how small Kara looked. Small enough to ride on her back without much effort, probably. "She didn't make some evil invading army. She didn't hurt me. She made the stuff a baby needs, because that's all she is. And as soon as I figure this out, I'll fix it."

"You were moving things around," Kara muttered. "Maybe you can do something amazing and put everything right. But Mom and Dad aren't going to buy your disappearance forever. I can lie and say you went to school with me, but they'll get a call when you don't show. Sooner or later they'll have to find out about this."

"At least I'll have your help when that happens," Kyle squeaked nervously. "So they'll know who I am, and Dad won't bring out that rusty old shotgun again."

Kara met her eyes in silence. For a moment it seemed like she was going to say something else, but then she turned away. "Just... figure it out quickly, sis. At best, you've got until tomorrow after school. If I don’t tell them the truth then, they're probably going to call you in missing. Then the authorities get involved whether we want them to or not."

Kyle shuddered at the thought of a policeman knocking down the door to the stable. Maybe they'd get jumpy and just shoot. Or maybe Fay would be so afraid that she took matters into her own hooves.

I don't even really know that bullets would work on us. She should check in on her thread on the supernatural board, maybe someone had made a useful suggestion.

"I should probably get going," Kara said, backing up the way she'd come. "Anything else you need for the night, Kyle? I guess not, if you have all this..."

"More food," she exclaimed, before Kara could leave her.

Kara stopped, spinning around to raise her eyebrows in disbelief. "You already had half the crisper."

She winced. "Yeah, uh... I'm pretty sure it got lost when this room was made. I'm just grateful she didn't blast my laptop away while she was at it."

"Okay, I'll look into it for you, Kyle. No promises I'll be able to get anything—there's already too much missing from the fridge, so I'll have to raid the garage this time. I'll bring some stuff right before bed. I can't come sooner, or they might realize where I went."

Kyle nodded, then stuck out one of her wings, wrapping it around Kara in an awkward hug. "Thanks, Kara. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me neither," Kara muttered, patting her awkwardly on the back. "Just... hold in there, Kyle. We'll figure this out."

To say all was not well in the Crystal Empire was about as powerful an understatement as Twilight Sparkle could know to make.

She hadn't even wanted to stay behind to do her spellcasting there, but to return to Ponyville and her magical lab to get the best of it done. But Princess Cadance didn't look like she could endure the stress. She'd see Twilight leaving like an admission that she'd failed at her spell. Sunburst had passable magical resources as their court wizard, even though he did almost none of the actual magic himself. At least he didn't mind Twilight coming in and stealing his laboratory for herself.

Sympathetic magic was difficult stuff, requiring the utmost concentration and precision. When it came to large distances, even a small variation in the initial heading could send the tracker hundreds or even thousands of miles in the wrong direction. What happens if I can't find her? Will Cadance think of me as the pony who lost her daughter for the rest of forever? It wouldn't be like any other pony hating her. She was family, and she'd probably live an awful long time. Even Twilight was sketchy on the details.

After eighteen hours and almost as many cups of coffee, Twilight finally set down her engraving pencil, taking a step back to appreciate the finished tracking spell. She'd carved it into a single piece of aluminum, slicing away at the even sheet until an intricate pattern with a large opening in the center remained. The outsides were now covered in glowing symbols, as perfect and symmetric as anything Star Swirl himself had made during the First Age.

"You're done," Sunburst said.

She jumped, nearly dropping the spell from her magic in surprise. "Woah! You're, uh... you're still in here?"

"Yeah, I get that a lot." He circled around the laboratory table, levitating a little brush and dustbin along. He cleaned her metal scraps off the table, not skipping a beat. "I know it's not my place to tell a princess to get some sleep, but... believe me, you can't survive on a diet of caffeine alone. I tried that a few years ago. I didn't leave the library for four days. But they had to take me to the hospital when it was over."

Twilight nodded weakly. She probably wouldn't have said anything to him if she'd been more in control of her senses. But she was so overwhelmed from the crafting that she'd have talked to a stump. "We'll be flying in the Crystal Empire's flagship once we leave. I'll get some sleep on the way."

She turned, picking up Flurry's stuffed toy and dropping it into the hollow center of the tracking spell. It caught there, suspended in the perfect center of the metal. It spun a few times, as though its little eyes were searching for the princess directly. Then it extended a stuffed paw. South-east. Though from the hesitation... they'd have to follow it all the way to be sure. We could be wrong. I'm not in any state of mind to be making complex judgements about Worldgates right now.

She brought the spell all the way back down to the throne room, through a gaggle of the Crystal Empire's finest. Most of them didn't look like they had a clue what they were supposed to be doing. Cadance was pacing, and whenever she drew near they would snap to attention, looking as fierce and regal as they could. Twilight didn't envy them their job.

"Cadance," she said, waving a wing in her direction. It didn't seem like the other Alicorn had slept either. Shining Armor was nowhere to be found this time. Presumably her brother was out supervising the search. "Have you learned anything new since I went to work?"

Princess Cadance almost didn't seem to hear her at first. Her eyes looked right past Twilight, and out the entrance to her throne room. Then she jerked, horn glowing defensively for a second. Twilight stood calmly, waiting for the other Alicorn to realize who she was looking at. "Oh!" Cadance shook her head. "No news, Twilight. We're widening the search outside the Crystal Empire, but the weather out there is so cold that... the royal guard don't last too long." Her silence was a simple enough message then: And if the soldiers can't last long, what hope does Flurry have? "But look, you're back! And you've got, uh... what is that, exactly? Did you finish the tracking spell?"

Twilight nodded. "I finished, and it's still working. That means..." She stopped whispering, speaking loud enough for all the ponies nearby to hear. "That means that Flurry Heart is still alive. It would've given me nothing otherwise."

Cadance instantly started crying, pulling her close and squeezing her like she'd already handed her back the missing foal. "Twilight, you don't... you can't imagine what this means to me. Without one of your own... we've been so worried all this time..."

Twilight winced, but didn't pull away. It hardly felt like she was ready to deserve any of that praise yet. "The spell was the easy part," she said. "I've got reactions like this from magic before. She's far away, way too far to walk. We'll need the airship after all."

Cadance nodded, gesturing for the little door behind the throne. "Th-this way. My husband has been preparing the Radiant Hope this whole time. We wanted to be able to leave the second you were done."

That doesn't give me enough time to get any of my friends. Twilight felt a brief, involuntarily surge of fear at the thought. Facing this challenge without them to keep her sane wouldn't be easy. But if she asked Cadance to delay for even a few moments, she'd probably snap. If I'm right about the Worldgate, I'll call for backup. This might just be a simple flight.

"Just so long as..." She yawned, then shook her head once before she started dozing right there in the hall. "So long as there's an empty cabin somewhere. I haven't... slept yet. Since this started. And I think I'd like to."

Cadance went as far as the lonely stone hallway beside her throne, finally stopping to look at her. "If you can explain your spell to me first, I could do that. Does it need you to be nearby to keep it running?"

"No." Twilight levitated it towards her. "I enchanted this thing to last. The toy inside helps point the way, see?" And when we get there, if it points at the marks along the rim, we know we're in trouble. "Just follow the bear."

"Follow the bear." Cadance yanked the spell out of her grip, with enough force that Twilight nearly stumbled over. "Right. We can do that. Follow the bear, get my daughter back. We're coming for you, sweetheart."

Chapter 10: Perspective Shift

Fay might be a horrifying creature from beyond time and space, but she was still a baby. After transforming the reality inside the old stable, she didn't stay awake long. Or maybe it was just having somewhere familiar to sleep. Either way, Kyle was soon left with a little time to herself to try and work things out.

The stable still had a single electrical outlet, right beside the door. She plugged in the laptop, sitting around the corner so she wouldn't disturb the baby. Using it would make for good practice of her "magic." Somehow I've got to use these powers to change back. My whole life is basically over until I figure them out.

In fiction, magic was generally something that could only be mastered through long study and sometimes years of practice. There's no way I could hide that long. Even if Mom and Dad do believe who I am, sooner or later I'll miss enough school and CPS is going to come looking for me. The further she considered that little thought-experiment, the worse it got. So she'd try to think about it as little as possible. It must be easier than that. If a baby can change me, then I can change myself back. I'm smarter than a baby.

At least her parents didn't have the technical skill to check and realize that her laptop was actively using the home Wi-Fi while she was supposed to be gone. That would've put an end to their little illusion even faster. She couldn't give up on the chance that someone might've contributed useful information in her thread.

There were some replies this time. Most just called her "fake and gay" in various levels of derogatory language. But that was what she'd been expecting, so it didn't bother her. She'd put up with endless insults if it meant there might be something useful in there. Plenty more replies asked for more proof, other angles or even a video. She considered whether or not to reject the requests outright—but staying active might make her more likely to attract the attention of Fay's original creators. Whoever they were... mad scientists, wizards, or something even stranger—they were probably the ones most likely to get her the help she really needed.

Or maybe just count themselves lucky they had an adult version of whatever they were breeding without going to any effort. There was no guarantee they were good. It was possible they'd just abandoned the baby to get rid of her, after all.

She didn't want to show the transformed environment—that would make her video look even faker. So she paced back and forth in front of the camera a bit, with the shelf of old equestrian supplies behind her. "This is me," she said to her webcam, as quietly as she could. "But only since yesterday. I'm supposed to be human, please help."

Even at the dismal quality her camera provided, the file would take the better part of several hours to upload. So she opened a new tab to read through the rest of the responses while that ran, occasionally glancing into the nursery to check on Fay.

One response seemed more interesting than most of the others, a message that might be from someone role-playing, or might be from someone real. Any ideas about who it could've been broke down after her transformation.

"Listen very carefully, OP.

You have a natural pattern, one that wants to maintain its nature and will resist changes. Transformation magic doesn't typically survive longer than a day. Your best hope is that whoever did this was still performing basic transformation. By the time you're reading this, you should be seeing signs of the spell unraveling. Look for numbness in your limbs, sudden loss of hair or your size returning to normal first. Eye color, other little details.

If you do not see these things after three days, then it probably means you're the victim of a true transformation, one that alters your pattern directly rather than your body. The beings who can perform magic like this are extremely powerful, and should be avoided. Do not confront whoever did this, just count yourself lucky you're still alive. You've been used as a pawn in one of their games—tough shit, I guess. Only another Hidden Master could reverse it, and they're probably not willing to piss off whoever did it in the first place.

Sorry I don't have better news. If there's any consolation I can give you, it's that the magic they used was fucking expensive, so they probably won't kill you. If they just wanted unicorn horn, they could've changed an animal and butchered it before it reverted. So at least they want you alive? :shrug:"

It was probably just someone playing along. There were plenty of others doing the same thing, though each of them referenced existing copypastas or memes, so she discounted those outright. Even in a world where she'd been magically changed into a horse babysitter, she refused to accept that there might be a real "SCP" out there. She couldn't do it.

She spent a few minutes typing out a direct reply to that message, though there was no telling if the poster would check back to see it. If they'd just been roleplaying, they might not bother. And it would probably be better for Kyle if they didn't. Typing was a little easier when she could levitate a pen to touch the keys, though it was still infuriatingly slow compared to her normal speed. She explained the creature she'd found in the wilderness, and that she'd been trying to take care of it when it changed her, apparently by accident.

She left out what it had done to the stable, but she did say she was uploading a video with more proof, and that it would be up in a few hours.

That was about the energy she had. Kyle packed things up, then fiddled with the wall until she found the light switch. The transformed room still had them, even if it had lost lots of other features. Curiously it didn't seem to actually turn off the glowing things, but somehow connected to a few metal irises. When she pushed the button, they closed like a camera's aperture, blocking out the light.

She hadn't been looking forward to sleeping on an inflatable mattress. Now the camping supplies were gone without a trace, and in their place was the oversized... nursing couch? At least it actually seemed like her size.

Kyle's second night didn't go much better than her first. By all accounts, it should've been simple to get the rest she needed: she was entirely safe in an environment specifically designed to fit a creature like her. She had some comfortable cushions to sleep on, and Fay had a crib that would keep her out of trouble. It was perfect.

The problem was that none of it should've existed. Kara's reaction had been evidence enough of what she should be ready to expect from her parents when the time came. Fay's power was terrifying. It didn't frighten her, but that might just be because she'd been somehow mind-controlled into it. For all she knew, that was the most horrific part. Like some part of her true identity had been destroyed.

There were no longer any windows to the little space, so no obvious way to tell when the morning had come. But Fay didn't seem to care about that, she woke when she woke, crying for attention until Kyle finally got up.

There was no sign of her old body returning, nothing like the anonymous message online had described. So there'd be no simple getting everything back to normal. Because of course that would've been too easy. It couldn't just all fix itself. There weren't even any little signs of the “spell” reverting itself.

If there were any little mercies that came with the world-bending nightmare magic, at least Fay had summoned diapers. Kyle held her down with her forelegs, then used her own "magic" to remove and carefully replace it. "Look on the bright side, Kyle. You could be using your mouth for this." Her world could always be worse.

Once she'd been changed, Fay demanded food next, which was fine by her. The biological timing on that always made it seem like she was going to explode or something if she didn't eat, so that was fine.

"You're mind-controlling me," she muttered, as she lay sideways on the couch. "I wouldn't even have words to describe how awful this is. But it never feels as bad as it should." She glared down at Fay, trying to muster the hate and anger she knew she should feel. "You stole my life, and you won't give it back."

Nothing. She'd already read about this, though. It was something about the chemicals in her brain. At least assuming that magic horse-things were anything like humans.

Finally Fay finished. She looked up, grinning childishly at her, before hopping off the couch. Even before she'd made it three steps her target was obvious: the door.

"Nuh-uh." Kyle followed, making it a few steps before she could pick her up. Her weird levitation was harder to use on something actively trying to get away from her. "I'm not 100% on what time it is, but... Dad doesn't leave for work until ten. We can't go out before that." She turned Fay around, holding her right at eye level. "It hurts me more than it hurts you, believe me. You got to use a diaper. But I need to piss like a racehorse."

Fay squirmed, though being levitated didn't seem to bother her nearly as much as being turned away. Kyle walked her back across the room, settling her onto the carpeted floor.

"Look, I've got something I think you'll like. Watch this." She was never sure if the baby could understand her, or maybe just read her feelings and what she was looking at. Either way, Kyle actually moving and doing things was enough to stop her from going for the door again.

Kyle brought the laptop over, then opened up Netflix. This would be a lot easier if you were a kid instead of a baby. What does a baby even want to watch? She selected the first kids movie she saw: Finding Nemo. He'd liked that one when he was small, maybe Fay would too?

At first Fay started fighting as she used the laptop, expression shifting into various stages of annoyance. But then the movie started, and she was entirely transfixed. She moved up close to the screen, staring in wonder and squeaking back in response to the various things characters said.

Kyle backed away, watching carefully to make sure that Fay wasn't about to attack the screen. But no, she was just watching.

Thank god. So Kyle had one tool she could use to keep the child entertained. So she could keep her distracted while Kyle worked on mastering... magic? At least if that one commenter was to be believed. First things first, she ripped the top off the 25-pound bucket of granola Kara had brought her from the disaster shelf, then broke the mylar seal with a hoof. The "food" underneath was the definition of bland, smelling about as appetizing as the break room of his movie theater where he worked summers. But it was food, and she was eating for two. It would have to do.

Maybe Fay will be so happy when the movie's over that she'll spontaneously change me back. It could happen!

Chapter 11: High Pressure

It didn't happen.

Fay seemed to enjoy the movie a great deal, or at least as much as anyone could. Kyle used the time she was distracted as best she could, practicing moving the garden tools around. The more she did it, the more it became almost like a second set of limbs, with its own strange restrictions. Even the old saddles were easy for her to lift, but picking up a pair of near-weightless trowels at the same time strained her concentration to the breaking point. High-dexterity tasks like typing on a keyboard were even worse, though that felt like it would be easier to master. At least that was only pushing in many different places close together, not actively moving several objects at the same time.

Her plan was to put on the second movie as soon as Nemo was over, hopefully winning over a few more hours of practice. Kara was probably right about how much their parents would accept—they were going to want to see her. If she didn't figure things out by tonight, she'd have to come clean for sure. There was probably already a text from the school waiting on Mom's phone.

Fay didn't care about her plans, shutting the laptop's lid with a resounding click. She turned, floating right past Kyle and grabbing the knob in her forelegs. She twisted, but of course it was locked, so nothing happened.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Kyle put her laptop back up on the shelf, then followed her to the door. "I know you want to go outside, but—"

The lock clicked, and Fay floated outside, giggling with satisfaction as she drifted further and further away.

We should be alone right now. This might be her only chance to be outside today. Besides, Kyle had her own appointment with a bush or something. "Okay, sweetie. Just... don't get too far away from me, okay? There aren't any neighbors close, but... if you start flying over the fence, that's going to make things hard for everyone."

Fay only giggled in response, but she did seem to be favoring a low flight over anything that could let her be seen, so that was something. Kyle stopped following so closely long enough to find a private corner and finally relieve herself, ignoring the physical details of that process as much as she could. The one time being naked was an advantage. I wonder if Fay could make clothes for me too. If she's wearing a diaper, then a grown-up version would probably be dressed too, right? But if she could ask for that, why not just go all the way and get the baby to change her back to normal? The odds didn't seem great on either option.

Eventually she was done, and she wandered off looking for her. The property was big enough that Fay could wander and explore for quite a distance in any direction without leaving by accident, though she would eventually run into the house on one side and the fence into the wilderness preserve on the other. She didn't seem to be anywhere near the overgrown garden, so Kyle turned to jog the other way. Or... trot? There was probably a horse word for it. At least she didn't fall over.

Fay floated on the side of the house, bobbing energetically up and down as she looked inside. Kyle caught up with her, snatching her out of the air with one foreleg. Her levitation seemed to follow the same rules as Kyle's, easily disrupted by any outside force. "Sorry Fay, we can't go there. But you already made a whole playroom, let's go there." Wouldn't want you to change our whole house the way you messed up the stable.

She didn't make it a dozen steps before she heard the scream. Piercing and shrill, cutting across the overgrown property with all the grace of an exploding bomb. Not a stranger's scream from another house over either, but her mother's voice, loud enough that it made her ears ring even from a distance. She jerked in the air, twisting around to look back, and winced as she saw exactly what she'd been afraid of. Her mother stood in the doorway, a gardening basket under one shoulder. Her face had gone stark white, though she didn't run. Mom went catatonic when something startled her, rather than fleeing or hitting it.

God what do I do what do I do? She spun all the way around, but she didn't run for the house. That was exactly the kind of thing that might make her mom think she was being attacked or something. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen Kara was supposed to be here I'm screwed what do I do—

She was freezing up exactly like her mom. "Hey!" she called, waving a wing towards her. "I know what this looks like... but I need you not to panic, okay?"

"Kara?" Her mother wobbled on her feet, then collapsed, dropping the gardening supplies as she fell face-first in the dirt, unconscious.

Kyle winced at the sound of impact. She settled Fay onto the ground, darting urgently forward to her mother's fallen form. This wasn't the first time she'd fainted after a shock, but... "Why the hell were you home?" Kyle muttered, pushing her gently over until she was on her back. She didn't have fingers to take any other vital signs, but at least the woman looked like she was breathing normally. Her nose wasn't bleeding either, so she'd done alright there.

Fay squeaked nervously from beside her. The baby had followed her all the way over, watching Kyle with nervous fear on her face.

"I'm just worried about my mom," Kyle explained, scooping her up again and settling Fay onto her back. Her hooves were muddy now, and that was getting her dirty, but she ignored that. She took a few deep breaths, practically hyperventilating as she paced back and forth.

Her mother had seen her. Now what the hell did she do? I could go back to the stable and hide. Maybe she'll wake up and think she was hallucinating. Or maybe she would wake up and call the police immediately. They'd search the property, and that would be that.

How long do I have before she wakes up? A few minutes, if it was anything like last time. Kyle took a few steps through the door, and sure enough his mom's purse was right there on the back table. She levitated her cell phone over, tapping on the screen—but unlike her keyboard, using "magic" on a touchscreen didn't seem to do anything. She floated it closer, and instead used the tip of her tongue to scroll to “recent” and pick her sister's name. At least she still knew that old trick.

The phone rang, just once, then Kara answered. "Mom? You don't usually call this early."

Kyle glanced at the clock on the oven, then back through the open door. His mother was still unconscious, but there was no telling for how much longer that would still be the case. "Kara, are you at lunch right now?"

There was silence from the other end for a second. She could hear distant voices in the background, then, "Kyle? Why are you calling me from this number? You don't sound better."

"I'm not better. Mom's home early, she saw me."

"And she gave you her phone?" Kara sounded skeptical. "She didn't have a heart attack, did she?"

"I don't think so. But she fainted... Look, can you get home? If I don't have you here, this is going to be a fucking disaster."

Much shorter pause this time. "Sure, Kyle. I'll head right there. How are you going to stall if she wakes up?"

"Hide her phone so she can't call the police," she answered weakly. "And... mainly hope that you get home before she wakes up. Hurry!"

Kara answered by hanging up. Kyle took the phone with her, backing out the way she'd come. But there were a few tracks on the wooden floor, tracks she wouldn't be able to do anything about. At least they were only a few feet into the house.

Her mom was still unconscious as she made her way back, occasionally urging Fay onto her back with the touch of a wing. The baby seemed to sense her fear, because she didn't fight as they made their way to the stable. Fay babbled for a few seconds, something Kyle guessed was concern. She imagined Fay was asking why they were leaving her mother behind. "We can't be here when she wakes up," she explained. "Hopefully she won't think we were real long enough for Kara to get back."

She shut the door behind her, locking it again. Her mom had a key, though it didn't seem likely that she'd come all the way out here to search for what she'd seen. Unless she figured that the horses would probably be hiding in the stable...

"Now would be a really great time to change me back," she said, settling Fay down on the couch, before sitting down on the floor right in front of it. It was as close to eye-level with the baby as she could manage. "Please... I don't know if you can understand me, but if you're even half as smart as I think... you made me this thing. I haven't learned your powers as fast as I hoped, but... you should be able to fix me. P-please." She sniffed, wiping away tears with one leg. It didn't matter how incredibly stupid it felt to cry like this. Thinking straight was for someone who hadn't had their life destroyed by a freaky alien baby. Someone who wasn't her.

Fay tilted her head slightly to the side. She reached out with a foreleg, touching Kyle's side for a few seconds. But the sounds she made weren't anything like words, or a magical spell to restore her to her proper shape.

"I don't even blame you," Kyle went on, glancing back at the front door with another wave of panic. "I-I... I know you weren't thinking straight. You were just a hungry kid. I'd be upset too. But it's time to fix it. It's time to put me back to normal and end this. We'll find you something real to eat, we'll... take care of everything. I promise I'll make sure you're safe even after you fix me. Just... please." She probably kept going after that, though whatever she was saying was so far from actual words that it wouldn't be understandable even if the baby could speak perfect English.

There were no flashes of light, or unexplainable magical force to reverse what had first happened to her. For all Kyle knew, it wasn't even possible. Maybe that post on her thread hadn't been roleplaying at all—maybe that really was a warning, and Fay was a bomb waiting to explode. Even staying near her was inviting disaster, and the next flash might turn her to dust.

But there were no attacks either. Just a few sympathetic sounds from Fay, who wrapped tiny legs around the single leg she could reach and made a few affectionate noises. Certainly the baby wasn't angry, or vindictive, or anything like that. But either she couldn't understand, or she wasn't able to change her back.

Kyle stayed like that for what felt like a long time. It couldn't be that long, since no police tried to knock the door to the stables over to get them out. Or... maybe Animal Control was more likely? But Fay's transformation had removed all the windows, so she couldn't even climb up on something and peek outside to see what was going on. She could only wait in silence beside the child, counting the seconds until the end of her world and crying until her eyes were dry.

This isn't the end, she thought, finally straightening. This isn't news. Not changing you back was always a possibility. That's why you've been practicing. Kara was going to help her. Kara, the perfect twin, who could make their mom and dad do almost anything they wanted. Kara, who cared about her and wanted to help when almost no one in the world would. The one who'd realized instantly that she was a horse, so she hadn't lost her place in the house within the first day.

Maybe that was why this was taking so long? Even assuming it took her a few minutes to talk her way out of school, it was only a ten-minute drive home. As for the police, they were less than a minute drive down the hill. So if either was coming, it probably should've come by now.

She resisted the urge to turn her mom's phone back on and call Kara for an update, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Then she noticed Fay—the baby was dozing. Apparently the emotional turmoil of the day had been enough to finally put her out. Kyle took a few deep breaths, then levitated her gently up into the crib. Whatever storm was brewing outside, it was probably for the best for the baby to be asleep for it. If something freaked her out a little too badly, then Kyle might not be the only one who got hit with a "true transformation."

I can do this, Kyle thought, marching straight back to the front door, flicking off the lights and settling back on her haunches. It wouldn't be long now—a few minutes at most. Kyle was as ready as she could be.

A fist echoed on the door, a familiar three-and-two rhythm that Kara had used on his bedroom since they were kids. "Hey, Kyle?" said her voice from the other side. "We're ready for you to come out."

Kyle turned to look back over her shoulder, checking on Fay one last time. The baby was entirely secure in the crib, apparently sleeping soundly. She unlocked the door with her strange levitation powers, then twisted the knob with her mouth, and stepped out into the afternoon sun.

Chapter 12: Force Projection

Twilight felt like a new mare.

It wasn't just that the Radiant Hope, flagship of the Crystal Empire, had a full suite of sanitary facilities. Or that she'd got a full night's sleep. As she perched on the prow of the Radiant Hope, the chill air blasting her clear in the face, she felt as though their recent nightmare might finally be ending. According to the captain they would be landing in the next few minutes. Or... finding somewhere good to drop anchor while those with wings flew down to follow the tracking spell, as the case might be.

Of course I haven't told them yet that she's probably not down there. A Worldgate spell as powerful as the one she used could've taken her across realm boundaries as easily as it could move her through space. She should probably bridge that gap before they landed, and poor Princess Cadance exploded with despair.

But now that she wasn't wrung as dry as an old sponge, Twilight felt like she was up to the task. Ponies weren't meant to work without sleeping until they accomplished every task. Even four hours in bed had been enough to restore her sanity. It's a good thing I didn't fail that spell on the first cast. That would've been days wasted with Cadance slowly losing her mind.

"Twilight!" called a voice from the other side of the deck. Cadance herself, emerging from the enclosed helm cabin past a pair of crystal pony guards. "Twilight, we're here! I think you... probably want to come with us, right?"

Twilight crossed the deck in a single teleport, appearing beside Cadance in a flash. She got the sense that the other Alicorn still hadn’t slept yet. But at this point, it might actually be to her advantage. Cadance was probably so drained by now that any magical disasters that occurred as a result of her emotions would be minimal. "There are some things I should tell you before we get to the ground, Cadance," Twilight began.

But Cadance didn't seem to be listening. She grabbed her with a foreleg, tugging her towards the edge of the deck. A metal railing waited here, since the Radiant Hope was one of the newer Ironclad airships. Probably the only one in the Crystal Empire. It had lots of cannons and other military things that Twilight didn't really care about. But from the number of soldiers Twilight had seen since getting aboard, maybe Cadance thought her foal would be in the clutches of some dangerous enemy—instead of just wandering through the forest.

It was a different kind of forest than the one Twilight was used to. The mountains were covered with pines and other evergreens, their spiny leaves visible even from her great height.

"There's nothing down there," Cadance said, poking over the railing beside her and looking down. “No spells, no towns... nothing. Are we sure this is still working?" She held up the tracking spell in her magic, where Twilight could grip it easily. She made sure she was holding on securely before pulling it over—at this height, she could easily lose it to a gust and not get it back.

Twilight inspected the spell itself for a moment. The bear was pointing almost straight down now, still held in the spell's faintly luminous grip. Nothing had tampered with the runes—but she'd already known this would happen. "The chances Flurry Heart would end up somewhere populated were much smaller than the chances she'd end up out in the middle of nowhere. There's a lot more nowhere. Let's just... be glad you don't have more ocean paintings."

Cadance twitched once, possibly not even comprehending what she was suggesting. Maybe that was for the best. "I was planning on flying down with you, letting the guards catch up. Are you ready?"

Twilight nodded. "Sure Cadance, but you need to understand. We might only be halfway—"

The other Alicorn took off, spreading her wings wide and gusting air all around. She lifted up over the edge, then turned to face straight down. "I'm coming, sweetheart! Mommy's here!" She dove.

Twilight groaned, then followed. Her own flight wasn't half as graceful as Cadance, not even after all these years. Her babysitter had grown up as a pegasus after all, not a unicorn. Besides, Twilight had to keep the tracking spell close all the time. If she just let herself fall straight down, the toy inside would probably be torn right out, and lost to the sky. She held the tracker against her back with magic, gliding down in a gentle spiral with the Radiant Hope to orient herself. Cadance didn't seem to care to even do that, and her screams were lost on the wind as she dove. I hope my brother is doing okay. He must be just as hurt over this as Cadance.

But maybe they were about to be done. Twilight caught herself as she neared the trees, spreading her wings wide and breaking into a gentle hover. Finally she pulled out the tracker, holding it carefully in her magic. The toy pointed ahead and down, and from the sharpness of the angle it wasn't very far.

Cadance kept flying, zipping overhead and probably scanning the forest floor for any sign of little pink Alicorns. Twilight could see none yet, though that didn't necessarily mean anything. Maybe she'd found a hollow to hide in, or an empty log. It had been long enough now that the baby must've found water and shelter, or else the tracker probably would've failed on its own. But maybe Alicorn foals could just make those when they needed them? The whole idea was still a struggle for Twilight to understand.

Eventually the toy started pointing straight down. Not into the thick forest, but a clearing on the edge of a mountain. There were a few scraggly cacti wedged between the rocks, but nothing even slightly more substantial. More importantly, there was nowhere a little Alicorn might be hiding.

Twilight landed anyway, wincing at what she knew would be coming. She held out the tracker, watching it carefully. She walked a few steps, until the doll stopped pointing forward. It lifted one little foreleg, then started to move the dials along the edge. It twisted wide of the single other set of symbols Twilight actually knew, until the dials might as well have been scrambled. "Well... great."

What was even worse, the spell's power couldn't follow beyond the exact position Flurry Heart had crossed. She could've flown miles, and they'd have to track her all over again on that side. Without an airship, unless she cut a hole quite a bit bigger than anything even Star Swirl had achieved. Which... probably wasn't going to happen.

"Twilight." Cadance landed behind her with a crash, scattering dirt and small stones in a circle around her hooves. "I notice you've stopped moving, and my daughter... doesn't seem to be here." Twilight couldn't tell if that tone was terrified or furious. Maybe both? "What's going on? Did your spell... did you not cast it correctly?"

"I've been trying to tell you." Twilight spun around slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves. She knew better than to do anything that might provoke an angry Alicorn mother. She might as well be facing off with a bear. "A Worldgate can do more than travel through space. That's why long-range teleports are so difficult. If something's off, you can end up in another world as well."

Apparently that wasn't the response Cadance was expecting, because she wilted a little. She slumped to the ground, ears flattening. "So we're... we haven't found her yet. My daughter isn't here. We have to..." She whimpered, then wiped her eyes with a wing. "Another world? What does that mean?"

Every time her babysitter said something like this, she had to remember that not every Alicorn was a student of the magical arts. She was a pegasus. And she's on the edge of hysteria right now. Still, at least her anger hadn't lasted too long. "There are... an infinite number," Twilight explained. "The closer ones are very much like our world, and the further out you go, the more unlike they become. My tracking spell is showing Flurry at the place she crossed... this one is pretty similar, but further from the only other world I've visited."

"So you have to cast another spell," Cadance said. "Like that mirror, right? Make a way for us to cross."

She said it like it was a household chore, something they could do in an afternoon. "Yes," Twilight agreed. "But... that mirror portal was one of Star Swirl’s greatest accomplishments, Princess. It took him... years to make."

She might as well have stabbed her. Cadance practically melted, her body shuddering and her eyes welling up with tears. "Y-you mean my daughter... is going to be living alone in these Celestia-forsaken mountains for... years?"

Twilight hurried over to her side, settling one hoof on her shoulder. "We do have most of Star Swirl's notes! So... we won't have to figure everything out all over again. If we don't remake the wheel, then we should be able to have something ready in... a few weeks." Even as she said it, it felt like she was signing her own execution. Oh sure, I'll accomplish one of the greatest magical feats ever achieved in a few weeks. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong? "But I can't do it here. I'm going to need my lab, this tracking spell, and... raw materials rare enough to empty a treasury."

"Whatever they are, you'll have them," Cadance said, rising again. She shook her head once, and stoic determination replaced her nervous fear. "And in the meantime... the Crystal Army will deploy on this mountain. I'm getting my daughter back, no matter what it costs."

Chapter 13: Desperate Peace

Kyle moved slowly as she exited the old stables, conscious of just how insane this must seem. If she’d seen an animal that looked like her, and it wasn’t on the other side of some thick glass, she’d be intimidated too. Even not understanding the world-rewriting power that she commanded, her horn was sharp enough that she could probably gore someone if she wanted.

Mom stood about twenty feet away, as white as someone who had just learned their child had a terminal illness. Kara stood beside her, still wearing her cheer uniform. She stood firmly while Theresa clutched her arm, lending her strength as best she could. But there was no mistaking just how horrified the woman was.

Please don’t scream, you’ll wake up the baby.

“It’s like I said,” Kara muttered, voice deliberately slow. “I know how impossible it sounds. But that’s Kyle.”

Kyle nodded, settling onto her haunches about ten feet away. Her wings shifted uneasily at either side, but at least sitting down she wouldn’t feel quite as self-conscious about being nude. “I’m Kyle. I’ve been trying to reverse this since it started… you see how successful I’ve been.”

“It’s not possible,” Mom whispered, as desperate as a prayer. “It can’t happen. You’re not… It’s impossible.”

At least she was staying conscious, that was an improvement over last time. “I wish it wasn’t possible,” she countered. “Kara, did you tell her how it happened?”

Kara shook her head. “Just that you found the alien baby in the woods. It felt like your story to tell otherwise.”

“Guess so.” Kyle’s wings fidgeted on either side. It felt like she should be saying more. The woman was just staring at her, going through a series of expressions that Kyle had never even seen from her. Somewhere between getting a baseball bat and calling the police, she guessed. “Look, I know how it seems. Like I said, I wish it hadn’t happened. You can see the baby if you want, she’s asleep in the stable.”

“Which doesn’t look like the stable anymore,” Kara put in. “You should probably warn her about that before she goes inside.”

“Right.” Kyle didn’t say anything else about it, though. There was enough insanity here without involving other things that Mom wouldn’t believe. “I don’t know how I can prove it to you. Listen to Kara and I talk, for one. I don’t sound like a stranger, I sound like her. Then ask me anything you want. Things I should remember, that no one else would. I could login to my laptop for you, uh… anything.”

Mom finally let go of Kara’s arm, taking a step back. “You’re sure about this, sweetheart? You weren’t drugged too? This isn’t some kind of… mass hysteria, kidnapping…”

“I’m sure,” Kara said flatly. “That’s Kyle. Not physically, but mentally. Ask me how it happened, and I don’t have a fucking clue. But I know my twin when I see him. Err… her. Whichever.”

Kyle wilted at that, gritting her teeth together. The more distant return to her body became, the more pressing that confrontation would eventually become. She couldn’t hide from that forever. But I can hide a little longer.

Theresa took a few more moments to glance between them. “Where was your last birthday party?”

Kyle didn’t hesitate. “Here. Because I don’t have any friends.”

“That’s not fair,” she snapped. “There’s that girl, uh…” She struggled, but apparently couldn’t remember Lucy’s name. Unsurprising, since they hadn’t talked since last year’s awkward break up.

“Lucy,” Kyle supplied. “We’re not really a thing anymore, Mom.”

“No kidding,” Kara muttered, a little humor slipping into her voice. “You think she’d like you more as a horse? Maybe if we get a saddle.”

“No,” Kyle and her mother snapped, in exactly the same moment.

“This is serious,” Mom added. “How can you joke about this, Kara? Your brother has… metamorphed into a circus animal. I feel like we all need psychiatric care. It must be a mass hallucination, or… I’m calling your father.”

“Wait.” Kara rested one hand on her shoulder, pleading. “Don’t call him, wait until Dad gets home. If you call, you know Dad. He’ll come with the police. Best case, this makes international news and our family really is a circus. Worst case, they shoot my brother.”

Theresa put her hand down, defeated. Not to mention you don’t have your phone, I do. “I suppose… it would be better to wait. God, what do you even do in a situation like this? Who can we call?”

“Our grandparents?” Kara suggested. “I know how much you hate them, but…”

“Out of the question.” Theresa folded her arms, swaying on her feet for a moment. “I… need to think about this. Kyle, if you… really are Kyle. If this hallucination doesn’t pass, I promise we’re going to help you. But you need to understand how unbelievable this all is. It’s not your fault I’m skeptical.”

“I know,” she said. “I took all day to believe it, and it happened to me. Ask me anything, do anything, just… don’t piss off the baby. She did it to me, she could do it to you too.”

“Right.” Mom turned away, lowering her voice to a mutter. “What am I saying? None of this makes sense.” She walked away, still unsteady on her feet. But at least she didn’t faint again.

Kara approached Kyle, resting one hand on her shoulder. “That went better than expected. She didn’t lose her mind and run away screaming.”

“Still time for that,” Kyle said flatly. “We don’t know she isn’t about to have another breakdown. I can’t even really blame her. I feel like that’s where I’m headed if this keeps going. Sanity is turning into a tightrope.”

Kara wrapped one arm around her neck, holding her close for a second. An awkward hug made more so by the difference in species between them. “You got this, Kyle. Keep it together. At least the whole family will be on board from now on.”

“Assuming Dad doesn’t come home and get the shotgun.”

Kara let go, patting her on the back one last time. “Way to be optimistic, little brother. Unless you’d rather I just called you ‘big sister’ instead.”

Kyle stuck her tongue out, glaring. “Very funny.”

Kara wasn’t laughing, though. “I’m not really joking, Kyle. Some people make a big deal about this stuff.”

She backed up a step, shaking her head. “And I’m not going to be one of those people. Just call me whatever you want, I don’t care.” It wasn’t strictly true, but it was no fault of Kara’s in any case, and she didn’t have any plans to act like it was. “Just… don’t upset the baby. And bring me some lunch. That’s what I want.”

Kyle spent the rest of that day in the stable, caring for the baby and occasionally checking on the paranormal thread. There were no real developments in either camp—the child had been outside today, and was willing to be entertained in other ways. What few posts were made on her thread suggested more disbelief and far less confirmation.

Occasionally she went for the door, having to check outside to confirm for herself what she suspected. Afternoon turned to evening, and still no one showed up outside the doors to her prison. At least they hadn’t tried to actually lock her inside.

I’ve got Mom’s phone, she’s going to have to come out for that, right? But she didn’t. Kyle glanced through a crack in the open door, watching the house and wondering what might be going on inside. She thought she could hear yelling from inside if she held still and really strained her ears, but there was enough distance that she couldn’t be sure. It might just as easily be a raccoon climbing a tree somewhere.

“It would be really great if you would change me back,” she said, without any expectation of help this time. “It wouldn’t be hard, just… do your thing.”

The baby looked up from the playroom floor, pushing aside one of her toys. She giggled, but otherwise ignored the question. So that was about what Kyle had expected. In terms of failed strategies, just asking Fay to change her back was pretty high up on the list. It’s either do it myself, or it never happens.

More time alone was a chance to feed the baby one more time, and release the subtle feeling that she was going to explode all over the floor. Another movie on her laptop, and the child was finally ready to be put down, muttering groggily to herself in a near-stupor. Kyle kept her up, knowing or at least hoping that she’d be going back inside soon, and that when she did she wouldn’t want to leave the child alone.

If nothing happens to make this go away, I might have to get a baby monitor. Christ, this is why they make such a big deal about not getting pregnant as a teenager, isn’t it? My life is basically toast.

Unless they got rid of the baby. Fay wasn’t her responsibility. They could call the authorities, or just go somewhere she’d be found by someone else and leave her there. If she wasn’t going to change her back, maybe it was time to go their separate ways.

Maybe it was some kind of mental reprogramming, or maybe it was just instinct—but the thought of abandoning Fay could barely even stick in her head. It was more than just cruel, she just couldn’t. Best case, someone else got cursed just like her? And worst… a helpless baby ended up dead?

Fay splayed on her back, one of the few advantages to being an animal meant for carrying passengers. So long as she remained standing, the child could rest and she could move. Some horses could even sleep standing up, maybe she could too?

No, kid. I’m stuck with you, and you with me—until we’re through it together. Maybe that meant the genetic engineers who had created Fay arrived with a cure, or maybe the post on the paranormal board was right and she’d actually get abducted by aliens. Or was it wizards?

As painful as the delay was, it didn’t last forever. Eventually there was a series of quick knocks at the door—Kara’s usual pattern.

“Come in,” she called—hopefully not loud enough to wake the child on her back. Fay stirred a little, but remained in place. Flying around the yard and ruining their stealth on the second day had clearly taken a lot out of her.

Kara poked her head in, still dressed in her cheer uniform despite the intervening hours. Which… probably didn’t bode well for how well their negotiations had gone behind the scenes.

“How’d it go with Dad?” she asked anyway. “Be honest.”

Kara laughed. “You’re asking how it went when we explained to Dad that his only son was a colorful farm animal nursing a baby. Gee, I don’t know. I really had no idea how this was going to end up.”

“I have to ask. I wasn’t there to see. Just tell me.”

“Animal control isn’t here,” Kara said flatly. “That’s good. He wanted to see some of the evidence for himself without actually coming out here to talk to you. I told you those photos would come in handy.”

“He doesn’t want to…” She trailed off, ears flattening. “He doesn’t want to see me?”

“No,” Kara repeated. “It’s insane, Kyle. This whole thing is… Everyone has to process it in their own way, you know? He’s just not ready to… see all this yet. Mom’s different—moms love you no matter what. But Dad… you know how he is.”

She did, hence the worry. “Yeah.”

“They’re thinking of things to do,” Kara went on, putting on a little forced cheer. “Transferring you to homeschool until it’s settled. Seeing if we can call in a private doctor who won’t talk. I’m not really sure what they think they’re going to do, inject you with a vial of person juice and reverse it? But what else are we supposed to do, give up?”

“No,” Kyle said, meeting her eyes. “Just… be patient with me until I can figure out how the magic works. You’ve seen how much she can change—look at this place. There’s going to be a way to change myself back, I just know there is.”

Chapter 14: Sight Unseen

Kyle didn’t actually know she’d be able to reverse her transformation—she didn’t know much of anything anymore. Even what she thought she’d known about the basic rules of the universe were clearly wrong, which left her with very little to go on. What did she have left? Kara was convinced, and her mom still loved her. The jury was still out on Dad.

That wasn’t a lot to go on.

She didn’t hear from them again that night, though at least Kara did bring her the remaining contents of the crisper drawer. “I’m going to need more than this,” she said. “Look, Dad doesn’t want to talk to me, that blows… but I still need to eat.” She twisted slightly to the side, showing off just how massive she’d become. “Just look at this thing. I must weigh five hundred pounds.”

“That’s not something to brag about,” Kara said, though even her sarcasm sounded a bit forced this time. “I’ll tell Mom. She won’t want to let you starve. And the baby…”

“Fay,” she corrected. “She’s a person with a name. Even if she’s… caused all these problems. She doesn’t understand.”

“Oh, sure.” Kara rolled her eyes. “Make excuses. That doesn’t seem healthy, but what do I know?”

I never thought I would. Fay wasn’t even hers biologically, but it still felt like she was. Probably just some alien mental reprogramming, but she couldn’t just tell herself that and make the pressure go away.

Kara left her alone, and she finally put Fay down in the crib. As terrifying as the stable’s transformation had been, she couldn’t really feel that upset with the baby about it anymore. It wasn’t like her family was using the space, and having somewhere that didn’t feel like camping in a dirty shed was nice. It would be nicer to just go inside, but maybe that’s not such a good idea. If Fay keeps changing things, there won’t be much of our house left.

She checked her thread one last time before heading off to bed, hoping for some miraculous new wave of responses. There were several new messages, and few of them seemed that interesting. Most of it looked like more roleplaying, or at least indulging the more interesting posts. Some stupid references to Sonichu and the dimensional merge, more Internet garbage and lots of racial slurs.

But there was one message that stood out, and she could see instantly why. It had the same ID as the first reply that had caught her attention. She leaned in close, biting her lip as she read.

“Back again, and I’m a little sick of these people fucking with you. But there’s an element of truth to some of the mockery. Creatures like that one, and perhaps you as well, are not natives of our world. There’s nothing inherently dangerous about magic, but most people won’t be willing to accept it. There are no organizations of any size that can help you. Each of us gets our power from somewhere outside too, and what we can do with it is limited as a result.

“You might be the most powerful spellcaster in the world, OP. If you’re not, then that baby is for sure. Just stay alive and figure your shit out. Don’t swear any contracts with people you don’t trust. Never trust a fairy.

“If this isn’t the most elaborate joke in forum history, send a message to this disposable email address with some proof. I’ll share what I can about magic with you—but there’s not really anything left. Like I said, all the old mystery schools are gone now. Nobody believes in this shit anymore, and we’re basically on our own. I’ll do my best to help if I can.”

Then was the email address. That address was probably getting bombarded by dick pics and worse by now, maybe some garbage photoshop of her original image.

If she’d been a little less savvy, she probably would’ve left the message and forgotten about whatever it asked. But Fay was never going to change her back. Whatever instinct had made her transform her in the first place wasn’t going to go backwards. If she wanted to be herself again, she’d have to do it manually.

Kyle whipped up her own disposable account, and used it to send a few new photos. She put the thread on her screen behind her and posed in front of it, the same way many “proof” posts were made all across the board.

It was a foolish hope. Obviously it was just an elaborate joke, or someone who thought this was another Cicada-style ARG. But even a vanishingly small chance that she might learn something useful was much too alluring to pass up. She sent out the pictures as before, then finally shut the screen and fumbled with the bed. At least now that Mom and Dad know about this I can get my blankets from the house. If I’m going to be an animal anyway, at least I don’t have to be miserable.

She woke bright and early the next morning, to an abrupt pounding on the door. Loud enough that Fay stirred in her crib, moaning with annoyance at the interruption. She’d heard that angry knock before a few times, and there was no mystery about the source.

“Yeah?” She sat up, tucking her tail to cover up what she could. At least she didn’t spend several minutes not understanding what her body was or how it worked, so there was some improvement there. I guess I’m adapting, but is that a good thing? It didn’t really feel that way.

She hadn’t locked the door the night before, so there was nothing to stop him from coming in. The door banged open, and there was her father on the other side, along with Mom. Kara wasn’t there, though it was early enough that she was probably still asleep. Like I should be. I’m already a petting zoo, you could’ve at least given me until eight.

She rose into an awkward standing position, wings splayed to either side. “Decided to come in?”

“Wanted to confront the evidence directly,” Dad said. His eyes skimmed across the room, lingering on the strange light-fixtures and the oversized furniture. He reached cautiously towards the switch, watching the metal shutters open around it.

“Insane,” he muttered, staring at Kyle. “You’re… you’re Kyle? My son?”

She nodded weakly. “I was. I’m not sure what I am right now. But I still have… all the same stuff in my head. The same memories. I’m the same person, just…”

Fay began to fuss in the crib behind her. Those upset sounds would turn into sobbing if she waited much longer. But she resisted, holding still and meeting her father’s eyes. If she couldn’t win her family’s support now, then she was utterly doomed.

“They both believe it,” Dad said. His voice was somewhere between surprise and disappointment. “I wouldn’t if they… but what else am I supposed to think?”

“No idea,” she said awkwardly. “I don’t want it to be true either, Dad. I was just fucking hiking. I found a little baby animal and it looked weird enough I thought I would bring it to animal control.”

Fay squeaked, then started to cry. She couldn’t wait any longer—not just because of how painful that crying was, but there was very real fear as well. Last time she’d changed the stable, what would she ruin next?

She turned away, hurrying to the crib and lifting the baby out. Now that she was focused on the child, her “magic” came almost effortlessly. Just a little focus and the baby was out. She held Fay up against her front, rocking back and forth. “Hey, sweetie. It’s okay, this is just my family. They’re not going to hurt you…” I hope.

She turned, carrying Fay back with her horn glowing. At least her words were having an effect on the child—Fay stopped crying, watching everything with wide, intense eyes. You didn’t flip out for Kara, don’t freak out for them either.

“That’s it,” Mom whispered, retreating slightly behind Dad’s shoulder. “The creature you found. The one that… mutilated you.”

She nodded weakly. “I don’t think she meant it. But yeah. This is her. I’m calling her Fay. She didn’t have a collar or anything when I found her.”

“It’s wearing a diaper,” Dad said flatly. “Why?”

How could she explain that? “I found her that way,” she said. “I think… well, I’m still smart, I can still talk, right? Right now my working theory is that wherever she comes from, this is what life looks like. Horse… things. Either that, or the ones who made her didn’t want her to pee on the carpet. I don’t want her to do that either, so… diapers it is.” She nodded towards the shelf. “When she changed the stable here, she gave us plenty to work with for awhile. But obviously the size and shape are pretty different from anything that normal people would use.”

For another minute the two of them were silent, watching her care for the baby. Eventually Alan broke the silence. “What do we do about this, son? What are we supposed to do to help you?”

She chuckled. “I have no fucking idea, Dad. I’m hoping—maybe Kara told you this already—but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to copy her powers with enough practice. I look just like her, see? Wings, horn… everything checks out. If I practice, maybe I can change myself back.”

Mom made a dissatisfied sound, before Dad nodded weakly. “That’s a poor plan, Kyle. But I’m not sure… This shouldn’t be possible. We want to help you, but there aren’t a lot of options. You’re… a horse. There’s only so much we can do.”

“Food,” she added hastily. “And making it so I don’t fail all my classes would be good too. Kara said something about homeschool? That sounds like a good idea. While I…”

Fay was moving her lips, squirming towards her. She was hungry, but somehow she didn’t think that letting her parents see that was a good idea. “While I keep this baby from wrecking anything else.”

“We can do that,” Mom said. “That’s something, isn’t it Alan? We can… do something.”

“We might do more,” Dad said awkwardly. “There are… people, we could call. Get a doctor to look at you. Your mother’s family has… people. Discrete people. We don’t even have to tell them who you are.”

“Sure.” She didn’t hesitate. “Just don’t…” Fay started moaning. If she wasn’t seen to soon, she’d be crying again. “Don’t try to take the baby away. I don’t want anyone else to go through what I am.”

Chapter 15: Horse Friend

"Right," Dad said awkwardly. It looked like she wouldn't have to work hard to convince them to leave—if anything, they seemed eager to be gone. "We'll see about those... issues."

"Oh!" She turned hastily, focusing briefly on her mom's phone and levitating it back to her. "Here's this. I, uh... wanted it to be gone so you wouldn't call the police earlier. Sorry, I... I just thought you'd probably be flipping out. Like I did when this started. I wanted it to just go away, but... yeah. I keep saying that."

They hadn't said anything about it before, but now they were both staring. Maybe they'd thought the alien baby could levitate herself around, and didn't need her help. Mom glanced between her glowing horn and the phone. "What's causing that?"

She chuckled awkwardly. "I wish I understood. It's me, somehow. This is one of the first powers the baby used. Like... moving things around. It's what makes me hopeful I'll be able to figure this out given enough time. If I can levitate things, then hopefully I have the rest of her powers too."

"Powers," Dad repeated, walking back out the way he'd come.

Mom glanced after him, but didn't leave right away. "Let us know if... Tell us if you need anything, Kyle. If there's anything we can do."

Kyle laughed. "Sure, Mom. Will do." She waited until her mother was gone, before finally lifting Fay up to eye level. "Alright, alright. You're hungry, it's fine. I just didn't want them to see."

Fay didn't look particularly understanding. Kyle might doubt just how clever a baby could be, but she knew frustration when she saw it. If she waited much longer, Fay probably would've done something rash, and then all the cooperation she'd earned from her parents would be right back out the window.

But they didn't throw me out. That's way better than I expected. Somehow, impossibly, her parents were actually on her side. She had more time to try and figure out her powers, more time to use them to change back. Assuming that's even possible. I don't actually know what I can do.

But that reminded her of something else, something she shouldn't have let herself forget. While Fay ate, and the sensation relaxed her even further, she focused her attention on her laptop. At least while she was relaxed, it was no trouble to get her strange powers to work. It was only when she really tried to focus on using those abilities that they struggled and she dropped things. I held the baby and a phone at the same time just now. I'm getting better at this.

Now if only she was brave enough to go out into the preserve and learn how to use her wings while she was at it. Maybe if all else failed she could flee to Canada and eat grass in the wilderness for the rest of her life.

Don't be stupid, Kyle, that won't happen. Mom and Dad aren't going to abandon you. You won't have to run away.

It was easier to forget about her stupid ideas when she was feeling relaxed, and little was quite so relaxing as the sensation of feeding Fay.

She didn't want to feel that way, actually she wanted to think as little as possible about what she was doing. But there was no escaping the simple biology. She was being mind-controlled, but by entirely physical hormones instead of some otherworldly force. These were hormones as old as life itself, and just as hard to fight. But she could worry about that when and if she ever found a way to change back. In the meantime, caring for the baby was more than enough work to occupy her attention.

She settled the laptop on the sofa in front of her, where she could read the screen and occasionally check on Fay at the same time. She didn’t even bother going back to that old thread anymore, she'd clearly learned all she was going to learn on that thing. But she did check her disposable email address, and was delighted to see a response. Just one, so apparently the disposable address on the other end hadn't been compromised. That didn't necessarily mean anything it sent would be true, though. The message was shorter than she might've hoped for:

"Thank you for sending proof. I'm going to rigorously analyze this and the other images before I share anything with you. Given where the message was sent, I hope you understand. The stuff I have to share is less valuable to everyone the more people have it, so I have to be careful.

“I will get back in touch with you as soon as I'm certain you're not lying to me. Initial examination of your evidence suggests it's real, or I wouldn’t have bothered sending as much as I did. In the meantime, I suggest not sharing more pictures or images anywhere else online. If you're telling the truth, then you and that baby are extremely powerful, with more magic than most beings on this planet. But given your ignorance, you're also extremely vulnerable at this moment.

“Never share information about your location. Your images aren't geotagged and don't show scenery or the sky—pay special attention to this; a few of the stars might be enough to narrow down your location. Keep information about your condition as secret as possible if you wish to remain safe.

“On the other hand, you might be able to trade the baby away for help, though I still think the chances of reversing this with human magic are small. True transformation isn't really in the wheelhouse for us mortals, only short periods and parlor tricks.

“I have an image expert going over your shit. Expect to hear from me by tomorrow.

“-Anon"

You didn't have to sign it that way, she thought, glaring at the bottom line of the message. But considering they'd bothered getting back to her at all, there was at least some hope. Either they were real, or they were some jerk leading her along and trying to make her more afraid than she already was.

I wasn't going to share any identifying information anyway. I don't want this to turn into one of those fifties horror movies where we're locked up in a military base in the desert somewhere. That would probably end with some poorly acted scientists threatening Fay so much that she would nearly destroy the planet, so that someone could turn to the camera and remind the audience that humans were the real monsters all along.

Or something.

When she'd finished eating, she went through the monotonous task of changing Fay's diapers and getting her ready for the day. Unfortunately her "remodeling" of the stable didn't include a shower, so there was no way to get clean. Kyle would've liked to wash off herself, but she doubted her parents would take too kindly to her letting herself inside right then.

In a little bit. Once they get used to me maybe I can get my old room back. There were some benefits to living in a gigantic old house, even if it wasn't staffed anymore and much of its older sections were showing their age. She could easily imagine setting up a nursery inside, maybe even moving all the furniture from out here. Though there was a chance that her parents wouldn't want her there. Just because she didn't have any friends didn't mean the same was true for the whole family.

"I don't suppose you can Doctor Who the hell out of this stable?" she asked, once Fay was changed and seemed happily occupied playing with her toys and watching Kyle. "You know, like... bigger on the inside? Give us a real bathroom, that would be great." There was a hose on the side of the building—assuming the total reconstruction hadn't gone deep enough to break all those pipes, she could probably rinse off that way. Completely naked, in full view of the house.

I can deal with smelling a little like a barn for the time being. It's not like that isn't where we belong.

For the insanity of her last two days, very little of interest happened that day. In a way it was a relief, since that meant she wasn't afraid for her life and there was no danger of her world being upended. Fay didn't change all the plants into man-eating monsters, or set the house on fire. She did want to go outside and play again. This time Kyle could keep up with her a little better, pushing her away from anything particularly dangerous. If the baby really wanted to, she could easily overpower anything Kyle wanted to do.

But just because she could didn't mean she did. Fay was surprisingly cooperative with her attempt to keep her from danger, either able to understand or at least not resisting her foster parental influence. If anything, she seemed eager to have Kyle nearby, lingering near objects and waiting for an explanation. At least, that was what Kyle imagined.

"This is... our great-great grandfather. He was an officer in the Union army, see? You... don't know what any of that means, but that's why he's on a horse. You were probably just looking at the horse, huh?" No response other than energetic babbling, but maybe that was her way of showing how closely she was listening. They walked all the way around the backyard, at least to the parts that she could reach without being visible from the street. There would be no going to the side of the house with its iron gate, where they could be easily seen.

Her parents were honest with her in one other respect, and by the time lunch rolled around they'd actually brought some food. Granted, it was a bag of bulk carrots marked for "livestock," but considering how hungry she felt, Kyle didn't even complain. She asked for a peeler, but by the time they'd brought one out she'd already eaten a third of the bag. At least she took the time to wash them first.

Kara came out around evening, knocking lightly on the door in her usual way. Before Kyle could even say anything, it was already swinging open. "I realized that there's no point in waiting for you out there. It's not like you're not decent—you can't be right now."

Kyle glared, as much because of what she said as the volume. She gestured towards the crib with a wing, rising from the couch and her laptop. So far there hadn't been any further messages on her disposable email address—she could only hope that meant the writer was taking their time to verify her claims, and not that they'd given up on her. It's either get help learning these powers, or I'll have to figure it all out myself. What would it be like to invent a computer from scratch?

Hell, she didn't think she could build a toaster from scratch, let alone a computer. "Let's talk outside. Don't want to wake her."

Kara didn't look terribly eager to do that, but Kyle didn't give her a choice. She marched right past her, straight out the door into the evening twilight.

She waited for her sister by the door, pushing it closed with her magic. At least... that was what she thought it probably was. Assuming her anonymous new friend was right. "What's the news? I don't suppose Mom and Dad found a cure without talking to me."

Kara laughed weakly, patting her on the shoulder. "You're getting that desperate already?" But there was nothing but sympathy in her voice. "Nothing so convenient, bro. Lots of rationalizations, wondering what god we pissed off to get cursed like this. Way more literally than last time. I didn't believe in anything supernatural either, but... it's hard not to."

I hadn't even thought of that. "If this is divine, it seems more... Greek." She took a few awkward steps forward in the dirt, spreading her wings. "I could picture something like me flying to Mount Olympus."

"Oh, you're gonna let me ride you now?" Kara smiled wider. "That didn't take long."

"Sure, but read up on what happened to Bellerophon first. It didn't actually work out so well for that guy. I'm feeling it will go about the same for us."

She hadn't expected Kara to recognize that, and apparently she was right. She just shrugged, turning back towards the house and looking bleak.

"Thanks for sticking up for me," she said. "I don't know where I'd be without you, Kara. I'm really grateful."

That was enough to elicit a smile, anyway. "Keep saying that. I'll think about whether that's worth what I've been going through. So far, well... could be better, but that's not your fault. I'm hoping Mom and Dad calm down about this, if we give them a little more time."

Kyle was silent then, considering. “I don't really know how anyone could calm down about this. It's completely impossible. More than once I find myself wondering if I'm going to wake up from this bad dream, and so far I just... haven't."

Kara rested one arm around her shoulder, silent. She didn't say anything for a long time, long enough that Kyle wondered if she'd fallen asleep. Kara had that gift, the ability to sleep anywhere she wanted with very little effort. But shouldn't I be the one who can sleep standing up? I'm the horse.

Eventually she did speak, cautious and confused. "The baby doesn't seem like the worst thing in the world to deal with. Not having hands... obviously blows, but that doesn't seem to be slowing you down anymore. You figured out a way around that in what, two days? Too bad you couldn't be that resourceful about the rest of your life, eh?"

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Kyle wasn't sure if she should be mad or not, so she only stuck her tongue out. "Adapt or die, didn't have a lot of options. I wouldn't say I've figured everything out, though. It's still... hard. Like my brain is trying to catch up with my body. I keep trying to do things that would be easy before, twist a knob or open a box or whatever, and I just hit my hand against it like a block of wood."

"Hoof," Kara offered unhelpfully. "You hit your hoof against it, right?"

"Nitpicking is supposed to be my job."

"I'm filling in." She let go, taking a few steps towards the house. "Mom and Dad want to help you, so we're still doing okay. Not sure what they think they're going to do, but... maybe if they just give you enough time, you can become a magical girl too?"

She gritted her teeth together, but resisted the urge to say something angry. "I believe I'm already magical, and I'm positive I’m a girl. The whole—being a gigantic horse-sized almost-horse makes it hard to miss. Can't say I'm a fan so far. Aiming whenever I need to piss is a nightmare."

"Just sit down," Kara said, grinning back just as wickedly. "Just try and hold on, bro. Maybe we could... get you in touch with a counselor or something? Like, have you thought about it? Are you technically trans now? If anybody has the wrong brain in the wrong body, it's you."

Kyle almost answered with a reflexive denial without even thinking about it. The subject made her so uncomfortable that she didn't want to get within miles of it. But she couldn't just ignore it and expect it to go away now that there was no sign of a reverse transformation in her future.

"In the sense of feeling uncomfortable and wanting my old body back, yes," she began. "But... I'm not really sure I can handle everything else that comes with that. In that room is a baby that basically made me her mom? Or... the most involved babysitter in the world. I guess they used to call it a wet-nurse... whatever. Point is, I don't really want to get magic all mixed up with regular people dealing with all this. Hey Mom and Dad, today I'm coming out as a guy. You already know that, but..."

"You really think you're going to feel better just ignoring it? How well does that usually work for you, Kyle?"

She winced. I feel like you're not understanding what I'm trying not to think about. Not even that being female was an endless well of confusion for her, and embarrassment whenever she thought about her family seeing her. Even worse, whenever she was caring for Fay, she actually didn't care. The implications were so horrifying that she certainly wasn't going to suggest them to Kara now.

"You can keep calling me Kyle," she said. "I don't really care about the rest of that stuff. Use whatever words you want. I'd give my left arm for some fucking clothes, and wouldn't feel too picky about what they were. Just so long as I wasn't showing my junk to everyone behind me."

"If you're stuck for long, we could probably... figure out something," she said. "I've seen a few horse costumes before, but they wouldn't fit. You're not the same shape. And most of them don't cover..." She gestured vaguely behind her. "Well, animals poop. I guess that's not really a problem for you."

She laughed again, relieved that they were moving on. "It's a gigantic problem for me. Have you seen how much I eat now? Just... it's not by accident."

Kyle couldn’t imagine how she would deal with this nightmare—but at least she wasn't alone anymore. She had her family, and Fay had her. That could keep her sane.

Probably.

Chapter 16: Sad Gambit

Things were not going well for Twilight Sparkle.

She’d already known she faced a daunting task, one of the most difficult magical feats that anypony had ever attempted. But how could she say no to Cadance? She’d looked into her face and been able to taste her desperation, as real as the dirt under her hooves.

But the longer she invested into probing the boundary between worlds, the less she felt like she was making any progress. Yes, she had created a spell that could track Flurry past the boundary of worlds, into the place in some neighboring space where she had deposited herself. But expecting Twilight to be able to get there just because she knew the place was about the same as expecting a compass to teleport its holder to the North Pole.

Before Flurry’s disappearance, Twilight’s laboratory had been more of a novelty than anything else. She tinkered with casual magical experiments, probing at the boundaries of her world and inventing new spells. Ever since she’d become a princess, Twilight had less and less time to actually use the space. Building that room had been as much because the library had one as because she actually needed it.

Now half her castle felt like a library. Every day she received half a dozen new missives from the Princess of Love, speaking of how much larger their outpost had become. Acres of forest had already been felled, and a sizeable fortress was going up around the spot. Flurry’s Vigil would keep the location safe, as well as bringing in spellcasters from around the world to do their own, independent investigation.

Twilight probably should’ve felt insulted by that, but instead it only made her relieved. Maybe some other ponies will figure this thing out before I do. Then I won’t be the one Cadance remembers as the pony who couldn’t save her daughter.

Once they got Flurry back, all this would be in the past, and the baby would probably be kept in a magically insulated wing until she turned a hundred.

“The construction crew has finally arrived from Canterlot. Apparently this is going to take a few months to build. Hopefully it isn’t needed. But I realize how wrong it was to put all this pressure on you, Twilight. Only one pony has ever done what we need, and he had a lifetime to study before he built his miracles. You don’t have that kind of time.

“I still expect you to send daily reports of your progress to the growing research team I’m assembling here. They’ve already constructed a modified version of your device, using your design. They tell me it uses the connection to Flurry to confirm she’s still alive.

“I know I shouldn’t be worried. The elements would’ve claimed a helpless pony on their own by now—that she lives gives me hope that she’s been taken in by kind strangers. I intend to show them the true depth of the Crystal Empire’s gratitude when we travel to reclaim my daughter.”

And what wasn’t said, though Twilight could practically see it printed in bold letters—was the threat of terrible wrath waiting if something did happen to her daughter.

What if she dies before I finish? Should I even complete the spell? Cadance might take all of Equestria to war against another world that doesn’t even know we exist.

She could only hope she would never face that choice, for her sake and Flurry’s.

Growing up as the personal student of the princess had never spoiled her with wealth the way many suspected. Celestia gave her a room, but that was all. Some part of her never truly recognized just how wealthy the monarchy could be.

The Crystal Empire wasn’t just funding the construction of an outpost a hundred miles from the nearest pony village. She was funding all of Twilight’s research, sending anything she requested by the fastest shipping available.

Should she feel guilty about all the bits she was spending?

Where before Twilight had always been conservative, building new spells with care and plotting their matrices over weeks to be sure they’d be right, now every day brought a new package of gold and silver wire from the smith. Almost as often, she traded boxes of scrap gold and tarnished silver, twisted vaguely into spells that hadn’t proven their worth.

I can’t rush this. It doesn’t matter how urgent it is or how much time I want to invest. I’m not going to correctly bridge our worlds by accident. With an Alicorn’s power, her experiments were unlikely to fail gently if she got close—they would probably create spectacular disaster for one or both worlds, and she would be the one who declared war for Equestria.

I have to slow down.

Twilight crossed her lab, walking straight for the mirror portal against the far wall. It was face down right now, its workings exposed for her to copy. The walls around it were covered with sketches of the runes, expanded to their full interaction with a dozen hours of careful attention.

If it was just about making an exact copy, we would already be done. She stopped beside the mirror, leaning down to touch the silver with one hoof. She could feel the faint energies beyond, creating a bridge that opened only once in a great while.

That was Star Swirl’s solution to the problem of thaumic feedback, and too much contamination between worlds. Her design wouldn’t even have to worry about that problem, since they would use it only to cross once, then return.

How do I tell her that I’m not going to finish this in a month? For all Twilight knew, she wasn’t going to finish it this year. There were no experts to call in—Cadance was wasting her bits by hiring an assortment of Equestria’s mages who promised they could wave their hooves and do the impossible.

But she wasn’t going to tell her that. All these failures aren’t helping Flurry. I need to take my time, break down the theory, and figure out why this spell works, not just stare at it and pretend it makes sense.

Twilight sat down, selected a quill, and started to write.

“Dear Princess Cadance…

Chapter 17: Devil's Deal

Kyle wondered just how long her family would keep her out in the stables.

Even with the redecorating, they were still entirely on their own, separated so completely that she wouldn’t see anyone unless they chose to seek her out. That was probably an advantage for Dad, but not so much for her own sanity. Or the baby’s either, for that matter. After her third day, she could tell that Fae was starting to get agitated by the confined space. She pressed to go outside more and more, and whined incessantly if they stayed inside for too long. Kyle knew better than to ignore her anger.

At least her family took care of her other needs. Now that everyone knew about her, she didn’t have to survive on whatever scraps Kara could scavenge from the crisper drawer. It was something.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Mom said, when she asked about it. “We’re making arrangements, Kyle. We’ll let you know as soon as we figure things out.”

“What is there to figure out?” she asked, pushing Fay gently back from the doorway. The longer she stayed in one place, the more the baby seemed interested in other people. Not that she ever got far from Kyle, but… “There’s no one who can fix this, except maybe Fay. And she hasn’t yet.” Maybe me too, but let’s not promise that now. She’ll expect me to keep it, and I don’t even know if I can.

Mom only shrugged noncommittally. “I’m not going to close any doors before we investigate what’s waiting on the other side. Maybe there’s a way to fix things that you didn’t think of. I’m not waiting for the alien to fix the damage it did. If we had anything to do with it, I would feel happier if it was far away from you. There’s no telling if she won’t cause more harm.”

“No!” She didn’t even think, didn’t have to. “I’d love to give her back to her mother, but Fay doesn’t have anyone else. If you took her away, she’d be…” She bent down, holding the child in her magic. “Look at her. You couldn’t abandon her, could you?”

Mom hesitated, but wasn’t able to answer the way she wanted. “We wouldn’t do that. It would be nice if her mother returned to fix the mess her daughter made. I’d like my son back.”

“I’d like my me back,” she countered. “If you see any giant horses with horns and wings, you call me. I’ll keep an eye on the backyard.”

And maybe take a few more hikes. She couldn’t help but think back to the place she’d found the baby, abandoned on a hillside. Maybe there was some clue about her that she hadn’t connected yet, some fact that could help fix this.

“Wait, Mom! I forgot about something. Up in my room… open my backpack. There’s a shard of blue glass in there. The baby was wrapped up in it, like a giant spiky flower. Maybe there’s a clue we can use?”

Mom turned back around, folding her arms. “Your father isn’t going to be happy you didn’t share that with us sooner.”

“I had other things on my mind!” she snapped back. The baby squirmed and shoved against her chest, squeaking for attention. Or… maybe that was fear? She could apparently sense her frustration with her mother’s reaction. “I don’t know if you noticed.”

“That’s Kara’s schtick,” Mom interrupted, smiling faintly. “You can’t pull off sarcasm like your sister. But… I’ll look into it. With biohazard protection, just in case. Maybe that’s how you caught this in the first place.”

She hurried back to the house, breaking into a light jog as soon as she was further away from Kyle. She watched her go, sighing deeply. “How am I supposed to fix this and care for you at the same time, Fay?”

She turned the baby around, sticking her tongue out and imitating her. That made Fay giggle, forgetting all her anger with Kyle. She was just a baby, and not terribly difficult to amuse so long as she didn’t do the same thing for too long.

But Fay wasn’t the only one losing her mind stuck in a tiny room—Kyle could only pace back and forth and stare at a laptop she could barely use for so long before she wanted to go outside. Even if she didn’t have many friends, or anywhere to be—stuck in the same room was a bit much for her.

Thankfully, they still had the grounds. Fay liked to run, even if she didn’t know what she was doing and probably would’ve fallen on her face more than once without Kyle there to catch her. Not only that, but the grounds never seemed to lose their appeal to her. They could look at the same statues every day, so long as they didn’t look at them for too long. Fay didn’t so much want the novelty, she just wanted attention.

“I wish you were a few years older,” Kyle muttered, settling down on her haunches beside the fountain. Once it had been in the center of a little hedge maze, but those took work and this one had been abandoned when she was still in preschool. Now there was only a thin layer of brown water collecting near the bottom, with green residue coating much of the interior.

The statue in the center was much too old and disfigured to judge—another cavalryman, by the roughly horse-shaped outline. “If you were bigger, you could just answer all our questions. You wouldn’t have needed to change me to get the care you needed. We could take you back to your family.”

Fay babbled in response, balancing on the stone bench. There was a fall to either side, but Kyle didn’t worry. So long as she didn’t take her eyes from her, she could catch Fay easily.

“You must miss them. Maybe that’s why you’re so sour if we sit around for too long. You start remembering them. Unless you were grown in a test-tube somewhere. It could still be that, even with… all the magic.” Realistically, it probably couldn’t be. But some part of her wanted to hold on to her rational explanation for everything, even if present evidence suggested otherwise.

Fay offered her no answers. At least she was in a good mood today. Something to distract Kyle from her life unraveling around her.

Maybe my anonymous helper will jump in to save the day. Once they figure out that I’m not lying to them, they might be exactly what I’ve been waiting for. Or maybe they represented the very danger that they’d been warning about, and their apparent sympathy was only a ruse to extract further obedience. Or maybe she was just being screwed with as elaborately as any other internet lolcow, by trolls with no idea they were actually dealing with the real thing.

Whichever the case, she did hear back from her mysterious benefactor later that day. She checked the disposable address the same way she did every afternoon, once Fay was down for a nap. No one had discovered the address yet, so she didn’t have to deal with a barrage of spam.

“Horse girl.

“After examining your message, I’m reasonably confident you’re telling the truth. I’m still trying to process exactly how this has happened to you, since your story doesn’t conform with any of the existing methods that might’ve left you this way. The Hidden Masters don’t seem to be involved—or if they are, their touch is so subtle that you haven’t detected it. I know I can’t, given the photo.

“I know you’ll want more help. I wish I could do more now, but I can do something. Swear to never divulge what I share with you with another human being. Do it in the following way:”

What followed was a… ritual, there was no other word for it. Symbols she had to draw on something flammable, then touch with a little blood and burn, after speaking her promise aloud.

“That will do jack shit for you if this is all a joke. Most people are sleeping deeper than three weeks of Xanax and a few fifths of whisky. But if those images are true, then you’ll have enough magic to spark it. It’s an oath, so don’t fucking break it. That’s your first magical lesson, free of charge. Magic is a promise, and if you want it to serve you, keep your promises.

“Prove you’re worth anything, and we’ll probably have to do more than email. I won’t lie and tell you I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. If this works out, and you live through this mess, you’ll owe me. Magical favor from a creature like you—it’ll be worth something a century or two from now. But our interests align in the meantime. You have to live for me to cash in. So do what I say, and you live.

“You don’t need to reply to this message. When you’ve done it, I’ll know, and I’ll send you the first few lessons. Study well, and get back to me when you master the basics. Or don’t do what I said, and you won’t hear from me again. I don’t have time to waste with skeptics—sleepers have no reason to believe in magic, and I don’t blame them. But you do, if you weren’t lying.

“Good luck.”

Kyle stared at the diagram for a long time, trying to wrap her mind around the shapes. It certainly looked like it could be the design for a magical spell. The language was vaguely Arabic, with an angular style more like runes. Stranger still, it just wasn’t there when she tried to take a screenshot. Even using her phone, the picture blurred beyond recognition.

The hell?

But at this point, Kyle couldn’t exactly say that one impossible thing was more impossible than being an adoptive horse mom. She was surrounded by evidence of things that shouldn’t be possible.

None of the supplies she’d need were in the nursery in any case. So she waited, until Kara made an appearance after school, with the evening’s dinner delivery.

“Hey horse.” She slipped through the door, offering a carboard box of fresh produce. Washed this time, instead of right from the farming store. So… that was an improvement. “Any exciting developments?”

“Promise not to tell Mom and Dad?”

She grinned in response. “You know I’m good for it, Kyle. Whatever you’re thinking.”

She did know. It didn’t matter that they were older now, and Kara was better than her in every way. A lifetime of closeness couldn’t be erased by more recent failures.

She told her, recounting her desperate pleas for help. She had to explain the steps she’d taken to hide her identity, since Kara had never really understood anything that technical. Then she went through the conversation—the person she’d taken seriously, and their promise of help. Complete with a bizarre demand of a ritual.”

By the time she finished, Fay was up again, and demanded her attention. She bounced the foal up and down, delaying her desire for food as long as she could, even knowing full well what she wanted.

“That’s… I’d say it was stupid and silly, but you’re a horse holding a horse magically in the air. Guess we don’t know as much as we thought we did.”

Kyle nodded, waiting for her to get past that point. She’d already thought about that—it was the obvious place to start. But then she got past it. “Let’s think about it both ways. They… kinda built the proof right into their email. There’s no reason this stranger should know that you burned a weird symbol. If anything happens, you’re good.

“But if magic is real, then… you don’t know what you’re doing. They admit right there in the message that they expect things from you later. Maybe you’re, like…” She trailed off, waving a hand through the air. “I dunno, what happens in those nerdy books you like?”

She flushed, ears flattening. Fay seemed to notice her discomfort, spinning around to glare at Kara. Nothing approaching the anger she could somehow show, but clear disapproval. “Lots of things. I guess it could be a trick. But what if it’s not?”

Kara sighed, slumping into the oversized cushion. “You sure you don’t want to ask Mom and Dad about it? They might have some advice.”

She laughed in response, so energetically that Fay copied her and started giggling too. It didn’t matter if she didn’t understand. “Their advice will just be taking my computer away, maybe burning it instead. I’m not telling them.”

Kara shrugged, defeated. “Well bro, what will you do?”

A few minutes later, the sheet of paper was burning.

Chapter 18: Projection Anxiety

Any fear Kyle had that her secret ally might’ve been leading her on for their amusement was quickly demolished. A response email came less than five minutes later. Kara waited on the other side of the room, but she didn’t show it. She’d just sworn some kind of… magical promise, one she had no reason to break. Yet.

It was short, shorter than she’d been expecting. “Shit, didn’t expect you to do it that fast. There aren’t any records of this easy to share, I’m writing it all down myself. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.

“That spell kinda-sorta makes you my apprentice, by the way. Don’t know if that means anything for horses, but you’re not really a horse inside so it doesn’t matter. Feel like you should at least have something to call me. So call me Monday. No, it’s not my real name, it’s not supposed to be. Names are too important to give away, and we all mutually recognize that.

“You should come up with something similar, so I know what to call you. I won’t expect your real name either, yet. Sit tight.”

She frowned at the screen, re-reading the little message. The speed of it was certainly impressive. No waiting one day and responding, in a way that could make it seem like they had predicted everything, while keeping their options open to seeming real. Minutes after she’d done it.

I probably still wouldn’t believe this if it wasn’t for the things that already happened. But maybe this will actually help.

“Anything you can show me?” Kara asked. “From your face, I’m guessing it’s good news. You don’t look pissed off anymore.”

She nodded. “The promise was not sharing any of the magic, this doesn’t seem magical to me. Just… their name. They didn’t expect me to do it so fast, and they’ll send another message tomorrow.”

“Seems like they’re doing that to you a lot.” Kara folded her arms, rolling out of the cushion to inspect the screen. “Still could be screwing with us. You should be skeptical if they ask you to do anything weird. I want you to keep your promise, so I guess you can’t tell me anything magic, but… don’t do what they say if it’s weird.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “It’s just about fixing this. They’ll be upset when I use what they teach me to take away my own powers, but… It’s not like I can ask Fay for help.”

The baby looked up. She’d been arranging her stuffed toys, settling them on the ground around her like an honor guard. Or maybe a family. She grinned. You recognized your name. That didn’t take you long.

“Yeah, sweetie. I was talking about you. Just telling Kara how you haven’t taught me how to use magic yet. Probably because you know you’d be out your babysitter.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “You know she can’t understand you, bro. She’s just a baby, and not even a very old one. Even if all of you… horses are as smart as people, a human baby wouldn’t understand English at this stage either. She’s just responding to your attention.”

And of course you’re the expert. Suddenly you know all about babies.

“Do you know anyone who didn’t talk to their baby?” she countered. “I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do. Hell, people talk to their horses, Kara. Either way I’d do it.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “Whatever, bro. I can’t imagine what this is like for you, but… in some ways, that’s a good thing. You need an outsider who isn’t influenced by whatever is going on. Someone to remind you that Fay isn’t your baby. Even if everything you believe is true, you’re, like… a surrogate she created to care for her. You aren’t responsible for her; you’re doing a voluntary service for her real parents.”

“Probably her creators,” she said, ears flattening. Kara was right, obviously. It was the only rational way to look at what was happening with Fay. But for some reason, her words came with their own little shock. An instinctive, almost immune response. It’s okay, chill. It doesn’t mean you don’t like Fay. She’s cute, she’s probably innocent of all this. But she’s still not yours. “I’m still thinking that she’s some kind of… genetic experiment? Or maybe a magical experiment, if these emails end up going anywhere and Monday is real.”

“Either way.” Kara rested one hand on her shoulder, pressing right into her fur. “I just don’t want to see you thinking you’re responsible for this, bro. People who feel guilty do stupid things. I want to help you through this. And maybe still be my brother when it’s all over?”

Kyle relaxed, nodding. “Thanks, Kara. That means a lot to me. Now… what should my magical name be?”

“Mirage,” she responded. “Obviously. It’s magic, and pretty. Apparently you’re both.”

“Says the person who just went on about how she wants her brother back,” Kyle said. “Shouldn’t it be something masculine and powerful? Like… Ozymandias?”

“No,” Kara snapped, without hesitation. “He got the world invaded; you aren’t going to do that. A name like Mirage is safe and comfortable. Ozymandias uses fake aliens to blow up a city.”

“Wait, what?” Her eyebrows went up. “You read Watchman? I thought you hated graphic novels!”

“I saw the movie. Now you should probably do something about the baby. She’s getting mouthy.”

She blushed. Fay was getting close to her, the way she always did when she was hungry. She hadn’t had time to eat yet, so it was no terrible surprise. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Let me know when they get the homeschool thing set up.”

Kara turned. “Will do. Probably gonna be a few more days. They want to bring you in for counseling first, which is… obviously not an option. Dad is trying to pull some strings with the district. We’ll see how it goes.”

She left. Nothing too exciting happened that night, for better or worse. Kyle tossed and turned over what mysteries might be waiting for her when she heard from Monday again. Maybe there would be enough in that first message to change back right away? Or maybe it would take a little longer. Though any considering she spent on getting her proper body back had to turn at least briefly towards something just as important: what would happen to Fay once she achieved it?

The baby had created her out of hunger, when even cow milk hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. Maybe that was just because she didn’t know how to drink it—horses weren’t cats, after all. Cows had to be biologically similar enough for her to survive on it, right? She’d heard of baby lambs drinking formula. Though that might just be something lazy farmers did.

More disturbing still, contact with Fay had apparently been enough to expose her to something much bigger. Magic might actually be a thing. She’d wait on testing whatever Monday sent before she fully admitted it, since the timing on that email might still have been a coincidence. But something in her gut told her that the delay wouldn’t be necessary. Monday was real, her first lifeline since nearly drowning. She’d have to make it count.

The next morning, her mother was back at her door, with bags under her eyes and exhaustion plastered on her face. But she hadn’t woken her—usually Fay did that, waking with the sun and treating any attempt to sleep in with amusement and contempt.

“Kyle, there are some things you should know. Can I come in?”

She laughed, moving aside and scooping Fay onto her back. She could get away with that for a little while, particularly in the company of a stranger like her mom. But if the visit took too long, then she’d soon be fighting to keep the baby from cursing anything else. “Sure, Mom. What’s up?”

Mom didn’t say anything until the door was shut, and she leaned awkwardly on the wall, staring around at the stable as though it might attack her. “Two things. First, your father has been talking to… the family. They’re aware of what happened, and they’re going to send someone to look at you. Soon, probably within the week. They’d like all of us to come and stay with them, or at least to visit. We’ll… probably have to, one way or the other. It’s how these things go. We’re… trading pride and independence for help. Your father isn’t happy about it.”

I wouldn’t be either. Kyle had few memories of her grandparents, and fewer that she wanted to remember. Their disapproval was the reason for all the dead plants, for the empty stable, for everything really. “What do they think a doctor is going to do about this?” She lifted one hoof, turning it towards her. “There’s no pill to fix a hoof. I’ve already googled for it.”

Mom didn’t laugh. Or… acknowledge the question at all. “It wouldn’t be right if they find you out here in the stable, even if it doesn’t look quite so… dreadful. We’re working on getting the south wing livable for you. We won’t knock down any of the temporary walls, that way anyone else who visits won’t find you accidentally. But it should be better than spending your days out here. In a… place that shouldn’t exist.”

Kyle nodded, wiping a few tears from her face with the back of one leg. It wasn’t quite being welcomed home, but it was close. At least it was the same building, even if there was only one door connecting to it that hadn’t been sealed. “With Fay, I’m assuming? I can’t leave her out here by herself.”

Mom twitched slightly at the name. She knew it, but clearly she wasn’t happy about it. “She’ll still sleep out here. We can dig out a baby monitor. And… I suppose we’ll have to reopen the south entrance so you can get in and out without walking through the rest of the house, if anyone else is over. Don’t worry about the details, we just… wanted you to know. You won’t be stuck out in this old stable for much longer. Harrington Senior has important friends. They can do more for you than we can.”

She turned to go, and Kyle reached for her with a wing. But then the door closed, leaving her alone with Fay again. She sat there in silence, until the baby started babbling. “They don’t want to be around me, do they?” she asked, lifting the baby off her back and settling her on her own hooves. “Guess I can’t blame them. If my kid got changed into something weird, I’d be upset too.”

Fay babbled in response, then seemed to notice the precariously stacked clean diapers on the shelf. She yanked at the bottom with her magic, and the entire pile went tumbling. She climbed atop the wreckage, triumphant.

“No more of that,” Kyle chided, picking her back up. “We’re moving back into the house soon. When Grandma and Grandpa visit, you better be on your best behavior.” But even as she thought about it, she realized it wouldn’t happen. Mom hadn’t said they were coming, they were sending a doctor. They had people for everything. It would be too much to ask them to actually do anything.”

More cheerful babbling. Fay squirmed, fighting against her. Their magical struggle lasted only seconds, before the baby had won and she hopped back to the ground. She aimed her horn firmly at the fallen diapers, and one of them popped, transforming into a little stuffed deer. Well, not little—it was Fay’s own size, like her other toys. She reached out, hugging it close to herself before offering it to Kyle.

“Just… don’t do that in front of the doctor,” Kyle muttered, taking it. “Or… maybe at all.”

Chapter 19: Scouting Party

Twilight took a few steps back from the workbench, appreciating her masterpiece. Hundreds of hours of work were plainly visible to her here, from every hastily shaped bit of metal wire to the scrawling runes around the outside. The construct hummed, its solid gold frame faintly luminous in the moonlight streaming in from outside. It was true that Star Swirl’s mirror was far finer than this—but that was his magnum opus. Twilight had weeks, and the pressure of an upset Alicorn mother breathing down her back.

“It’s kinda ugly,” Spike said, interrupting her thoughts. “Is it supposed to be so lopsided? And… how are you going to fit through there? You don’t think Flurry is just going to crawl back across, do you?”

Twilight winced, spinning slowly around. Spike stood by the door, holding a brass cage in one claw. Inside was a pigeon, trained by Celestia’s own avian experts. Right on schedule. “It’s a scale model, Spike. The first reconfigurable Worldgate ever built.”

She circled the workbench, levitating out the second half of the spell from underneath. It was a metal cabinet, filled with wires and thaumic vacuum tubes. They glowed with magic even now, warming the air around them.

“That’s reconfigurable?” Spike asked, settling the cage onto a side table. He reached into a pocket, removing a little bag of birdseed, and pouring out onto the bottom of the cage. The bird hopped down off its perch to peck at the food, chirping cheerfully at them.

“Relative to other Worldgate spells, yes.” She levitated a thick binder over to them, flipping through its contents. Thousands of diagrams were inside, most almost identical. Each one began as a circle, with jagged edges emerging as they distorted one way or another. “We have too many worlds to go through to sit around trying until something sticks. We need innovation, or we’ll be here so long Flurry will have her own foals by the time we reach her. We can’t afford to take as long as Star Swirl.”

Spike hardly even glanced at the kernel diagrams. “I’m not sure what you’re getting out of those ugly circles. Guess whoever made that book was practicing?”

Twilight Sparkle drew herself up, puffing out her chest and spreading her wings with indignance. “Spike, how could… these aren’t bad drawings of circles, these are universes.” She flipped to the front of the book, where instead of a jagged line there was a loop with peaks and valleys along a perfect sine wave. Or as perfect as Clover the Clever had managed, far into the ancient past. “This is Equestria’s world—not just this planet, but all of space and time. It’s the laws we follow, one… cosmic dice roll. All these… they’re stable configurations Clover guessed at. Some are variations he actively measured, using his ancient Amberiscope.”

“That thing you wanted from the Royal Archive!” Spike supplied, excited. “I remember that! I… don’t see any other machines in here, though.”

She nodded gravely. “Nopony seems to know where it got to. Not surprising, really. When you’re so far out from what the average pony understands, of course they don’t preserve your work seriously. Born and dead before his time. But, we have his notes! Even without the scope, there are some principles I was able to reverse-engineer. Using this log, and the mirror portal. This configuration represents my best guess at a match with the Flurry-sensing spell’s configuration.”

Spike was already tuning out. Twilight had to step it back, or she was going to lose her assistant’s attention. Once that happened, she’d be hard pressed to get him to help with this project again.

“Anyway, I’m about to open it. I’ve been gathering energy for the last few days—the spell should be ready to stay open for a few minutes.”

She was right; the instant she shifted to something more exciting—actually using the brand-new dangerous spell—he jerked right back to attention. “And that’s long enough to teleport Flurry back?”

Twilight shook her head sadly. “I wish. Teleportation isn’t so simple. A Worldgate takes a sympathetic connection. I’m Flurry’s aunt, but I still don’t know enough of the variables to fill in the rest. I don’t know where she is, or what mental or physical state she’s in. And if I try to guess at those numbers, stars only know what I’ll teleport in.” Possibly nothing, or maybe she’d only wish it was nothing. “We’re starting simple. This gate will be just big enough for our new friend there. They can fly across, find a leaf or a twig, then fly it back. Anything alive from that world will be enough to confirm I landed on a successful match with Flurry’s spell.”

“Out of all those…” Spike muttered, staring down at the notebook. Finally he realized the scope of the challenge ahead of them. “You’re going to guess it right?”

She chuckled, closing the binder with a snap and settling it back onto her shelf. “If it was a matter of guessing, it would probably take a lifetime. But we have the tracking spell on Flurry, that eliminates most of the bad leads before we waste time with them.”

Spike sighed. “Too bad she can’t just… come back the way she left. You don’t think she’s going to reverse her spell and return to Equestria?”

Twilight approached the Worldgate, flipping switch after switch in her bank. “Maybe she will, Spike. But we need to proceed as though she won’t. The worst that can happen is all my work gets wasted. If Flurry is safe, then I won’t be upset. But put your goggles on, this is gonna be bright.”

She levitated her own facemask up off the table, settling it in front of her face. She lifted a book, propping it sideways to block the birdcage’s view. No sense blinding the poor thing before its dangerous mission.

A low rumble began in the castle, shaking through its foundation all the way to the map room far above. Then there was a crack, and a flash of light brighter than the sun.

The light faded a second later, leaving a wound in space directly in the center of Twilight’s spell. The Worldgate wasn’t so much about opening their worlds as holding them open long enough to be used. Faint mist leaked out from within, heavy enough that it rolled off the bench and flowed down to their hooves. Water on the other side, that was a good sign.

“It worked,” Spike whispered, flipping up the goggles. “Buck me, Twi, you did it.”

Careful how you copy Rainbow’s profanity. But she didn’t have the heart to correct him now. Twilight felt the same excitement, just as powerful. It wouldn’t matter until after this nightmare was over, but some part of her still swelled with pride. Even without the princess thing, she was going into the history books for this. “We have about ten minutes before the thaumic capacitors deplete. Time for our new friend to take her trip. Bring the cage.”

While Spike busied himself with that, Twilight removed a little metal ring, carved with runes so tiny she couldn’t see them without a jeweler’s glass. A single shard of crystal glowed in the center, powering the enchantment.

“I have this for you,” she told the bird, levitating it in and briefly holding the animal still to secure it. “If something bad happens, it will teleport you back a few moments before the portal closes again. You won’t be trapped there.”

Fluttershy insisted that animals were as smart as ponies, in their own way. Whenever they failed to live up to this, she always claimed it wasn’t their fault. It was because they were stressed, or mistreated. But Twilight could see very little signs of intelligence in this bird now. Only terror, as it pressed as far away from the Worldgate as it could. Even without any direct magical senses, it could apparently feel that something was wrong, and had no desire to be near it. Twilight could feel a little sympathy there… but she would still send it.

“You sure about this?” Spike asked, his claws hesitating near the cage’s entrance. “It doesn’t look very happy. They said she was one of the best trained birds in the castle.”

Twilight gritted her teeth. “She doesn’t have a choice. Listen, bird. All you have to do is fly across and bring us a leaf. That’s it. Just… an opening, just like on this side. Cross, bring us a sample, and cross back. It’s all you have to do.”

To her surprise, the bird actually responded. She was probably projecting the resolve she thought she felt from her. That was what a pony might feel, as they bravely prepared for some dangerous mission. It made sense for the bird to feel something similar.

“Good luck,” Spike muttered. “Twilight knows what she’s doing with a spell. You’ll be fine.” He pulled the cage open, holding it inches from the opening in the air.

The bird took off, flying a short distance from the cage. She looked like she might be about to turn and flee—but the faint current of air pulling towards the opening was probably overwhelming from a little bird’s perspective. With one final chirp, she vanished, a single feather fluttering to the ground behind her.

“Harsh,” Spike whispered. “Fluttershy might’ve been able to convince her. We could’ve asked for her.”

Twilight shook her head. “I’m sure she could Spike, but we don’t have time to wait. Flurry doesn’t have time. It’s the easiest mission an animal could have. Just get a leaf and bring it back.”

Spike began pacing back and forth, holding the gilded cage under one claw. “What if she doesn’t come back? Maybe things are nicer over there. She’s more afraid of us than she is of whatever’s there.”

“Hence the recall bracelet. Even if she doesn’t come back on her own, the magic will bring her back when the Worldgate is about to close. If she’s not clever enough to bring a sample, maybe she’ll eat something. We can… use that.”

“Fluttershy’s not going to be happy.”

Twilight tensed, but resisted the urge to snap at him. “Then… think carefully before you tell her about this,” she said. “This is the first test of many, Spike. The chances I’ll get it on my first try are near zero. We’ll have to keep probing until we eventually find wherever Flurry has ended up.”

She glanced at the clock, expression souring. They were already halfway out of time, and there was no sign of the bird returning. You’d think if she was so afraid of this trip that she’d be rushing back as quickly as she could.

Twilight squinted at the crack in the air, probing its edges with her magical senses. She couldn’t see through to the other side, not even a hint.

“I don’t like this,” Spike said, another two minutes later. “She should be back by now. How hard can it be to find a leaf?”

“A few more minutes and she will be,” Twilight said. “Maybe you were right. We’ll have Fluttershy’s help with any other animals we recruit. I’m guessing she flew off. We’ll need to get a different bird, after this one is so upset with me.”

The Worldgate began to hiss and sputter, shaking her castle again as its internal energy overwhelmed any effort to contain it. The longer she fought to hold it open, the more power it would take. Eventually, not even an Alicorn would be able. That was why even Star Swirl’s spell stayed open for only a few days at a time.

There was a harsh crack as it failed, loud enough to make her ears flatten. No light this time—only a little sputter of sparks as the spell died.

On the plus side, the recall charm had functioned exactly as designed.

The bird wouldn’t be making it back to Canterlot, though. She’d been singed beyond belief, and smelled like she was halfway cooked into a dragon’s dinner. Twilight’s stomach turned, and she looked away from her table.

“Stars,” Spike whispered. “She’s… dead, Twilight.”

“I know.” She lowered her head, defeated. “I knew this could happen. It was… a remote possibility, but always something to worry about when you’re traveling between worlds. The place you’re connected to might not support life. From the look of her, it was… hot.”

Spike dropped the cage, fury on his face. “No more animals, Twilight. I know how much you want Flurry back, but… this isn’t right. You can’t turn into another Cadance. Figure out something else.” He stormed off, leaving Twilight alone with the corpse.

Chapter 20: Pen Pal

Kyle wasn’t kept waiting much longer to be let back into the house. It was hard to say whether that was because her parents wanted her back in, or just because they had the deadline of her grandparents’ visit to waste all their time.

It was late the next day—before she’d heard back from Monday, even—that Mom and Dad appeared at her door again, both looking exhausted and smelling like paint thinner.

“Here,” Dad said, offering something plastic. “You’ll probably want this, for… later.”

She took it, and didn’t miss his twitch of discomfort as it lifted out of his fingers. An old baby monitor, probably the same one her parents had used for him and Kara long ago. “Put new batteries in it and everything. You’ll need it, because we’ve… finished with the empty wing. Well, as much as we can under short notice. It won’t be great living up there, but probably better than out here.”

She felt herself about to cry again, and fought back the instinct. She cleared her throat, turning away so he wouldn’t see. “That’s… great. Fay and I are eager to get back in.” She turned, going for her backpack by reflex. But there was no backpack anymore. She set the monitor down, and picked the baby up onto her back. “Guess we should go in and scout it out, huh?”

He stepped aside, eyes never leaving the baby. “If you think it’s safe, son. I don’t want… I don’t want anyone else suffering what you have. Are you sure that creature won’t attack again?”

No. She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to tell him off. That probably wouldn’t work out very well. “She might be the one who changes me back,” she said instead. “Keeping her happy is my only chance. If she hates me, she won’t fix this.”

“We talked about this,” Mom whispered, clinging to his arm. “Alan, we don’t have any other choice. There’s nowhere to send the baby.

“It isn’t human,” he responded, gritting his teeth together. “And it attacked my family. It isn’t getting any sympathy from me, no matter what it looks like. But…” He turned, walking away towards the house. “I suppose we’ll have to concede you’re caring for it, until better options present themselves. Come on.”

Kyle followed, checking to be sure Fay was okay after their discussion. She didn’t seem comfortable around Dad, though it was hard to say how much of that was a response to his attitude. Fay didn’t care for conflict, but at least she’d known better than to start crying just then.

“I guess I’ll come back for anything I need later.” She shut the door behind her, crossing the yard towards the house. They weren’t headed to the usual entrance, but past the dead maze and blank eyes of old statues.

Mom nodded. “It’s not pretty, but it should let you get in and out. Don’t take this the wrong way, but we focused on the ground floor. We don’t know how much you weigh, and this old house wasn’t built for livestock. We’re lucky your room didn’t collapse.”

“There’s damage to the floor all over,” Dad muttered. “But until we fix the damage to you, I’m not going to worry about that. Anyone who walks into the south wing is going to know something is wrong no matter what we do to try and hide you. Just… don’t make any noise you don’t have to.”

She nodded absently, not even hesitating. “Sure, I can do that. It’s not like I’d be running around. I don’t know how to get the same cooperation from Fay, though. She’s just a baby. If she’s going to cry, nothing I do will stop her.”

“You can take her outside,” Dad said. No hesitation, or even sympathy. But maybe it was wrong to expect that. Dad stopped by where a door had been painted over. They’d cut through it, and reattached a knob. Good thing she had her magic, or she wouldn’t be able to use it.

The brambles weren’t trimmed very well. They nearly caught dad’s jeans as he led the way inside. She had to be even more careful, and even then she felt the sting against one of her back legs as a thorn caught her. She stumbled once as she crossed the threshold, then stepped into the gloom.

The south wing had been built to house guests in total privacy and comfort, making it more like a secondary house attached to the first. In her own lifetime, it had been servants’ quarters, where the half-dozen family staff prepared their meals and spent their time off.

The kitchen inside was actually larger than the one they used, though it was also much older, without any gadgets or toys. An industrial deep freeze gathered dust against a wall, and old bulbs flickered. The ground had been swept, but most of the furniture was still covered with sheets. They don’t want me ruining any of it.

“We cleaned up the first bedroom, just down the hall,” Mom said. “There’s just a mattress on the floor—we weren’t sure if any bedframe could support you. Fridge is working, and the lights from here to the bathroom are working. We, uh… weren’t really sure what to do about that. Or what you’ve been doing.”

What horses do, mostly. She didn’t volunteer that information, though. Or want to think about it herself. She wasn’t sure a toilet would make much difference, but hopefully the shower was big enough. Maybe there was a tub she could use, like upstairs. “Thanks,” she said, ignoring the question. “For all this.” It hardly looked comfortable, yet she could see little signs they’d tried everywhere. Her school stuff was all on the kitchen table, and her TV was set up in the living room. There was even an old crib against the wall, and a few boxes with baby labels tucked beside it.

She was crying again. Her voice shook, and her legs wobbled. She levitated Fay onto the ground in front of her, so she wouldn’t get dumped by accident. Then she wiped her eyes with one leg, inhaling sharply through her nose before she spoke. It didn’t really help. “Th-thanks for doing all this… for me.”

Dad grunted. Mom was brave enough to reach out and touch her on the shoulder, if only briefly. “We’ll fix this, Kyle. Somehow. Just… give us a little more time.”

It didn’t matter how impossible a promise it would be to keep. In that moment, she almost believed it anyway.

But they didn’t linger, retreating towards the door almost as soon as they’d arrived. “Expect a visit tomorrow, early afternoon,” Dad said. “Be respectful and cooperative with whoever they sent. I don’t expect a solution so easily, but… we’d be fools not to take every possible option. Visiting your grandparents will be easier if there’s a cure.”

There isn’t, she thought, but she didn’t see any point to arguing. There wouldn’t be any convincing them, and some part of herself didn’t want to be convinced either. They might as well give it their best shot.

Kyle spent the next few hours following Fay around. She insisted on exploring the entire wing, or at least the bottom floor. She’d want to go upstairs too, and sooner or later she would have to acquiesce to those demands. But in the short term, she could get Fay to obey.

Eventually the baby got tired enough that she could set up the computer, and dig out her email client. Sure enough, there was a message waiting for her, from Monday.

It began with a plea for secrecy, reminding her of the terrible consequences waiting for her if she broke her promise. “When you swear to a Geas, it’s not something I’ll enforce if you break. It’s between you and fate, between your power and the universe listening to you. Remember the words you swore, and honor them.”

Yeah, I get it.

Then she finally reached the useful parts, and she stared in shock and surprise. What she found wasn’t anything like what she’d imagined. Not magic words and patterns to wave a wand around—this wasn’t Harry Potter. It was… a mental science, with precise patterns to be held in mind. Over the next few hours, she barely even noticed the sun going down in the window outside, reading with bated breath.

Maybe Monday was screwing with her, and it was all a lie. But if so, they were also an incredibly skillful writer. What she found here was internally consistent, even as it was unlike anything she’d seen in the rest of her life.

“You’ve probably already noticed some magical talent or another. Creatures like you usually have them. But you’ve got a human soul in there somewhere, so I’m going to assume you can still cast a proper spell. You’ll need a real spell if you ever want to really adapt.

They’d drawn a simple shape, like a sphere broken with jagged edges. Then they drew it again, this time expanding it to an entire screen’s worth. The shape was actually formed with little letters, an alphabet just like the one she’d drawn for the first “spell.” The diagram explained how to read each loop, working together to form a spell.

“Every bit of magic you write will have at least three of these. Target, power, and proof. I’ll explain each of them using a simple spell that most apprentices learn. This creates light, so it’s not likely to kill you if you get it wrong.”

She could only wish she’d had Monday in the room with her, to ask the questions this information suggested. The symbols weren’t English, why did they do anything? Where did the power come from? How was magic done before this new alphabet was discovered? None of that information was in there. For that matter, Monday didn’t even explain the meaning of any of the words, just summarized what a few sections of the spell did.

Then came the instructions, ordering her to cast the light spell herself. “Get it on video when you can make it work. Send me that, and I’ll know you’re ready for me. Sorry I have to take this in little bites, but I’m already sticking my neck out giving you this much. If anyone knew I was doing this… we’d both be screwed. Take a few days if you have to, and remember not to show this to any humans. Your promise will ruthlessly punish you for breaking it, and we haven’t even got to any of the interesting stuff.”

She sat back, staring at the screen and the baffling instructions on it. She wasn’t sure exactly how to do what Monday wanted, but that was still more than she’d had before.

I wonder who you are. Magic, but human. How does nobody know about this?

If the instructions worked, that probably meant all kinds of things about Fay’s origins she hadn’t considered. Some… secret magical underground. Maybe this was closer to Harry Potter than some secret genetics lab.

It was a lifeline, albeit a faint one. That was enough to keep her going for the moment.

Chapter 21: Checking Up

Kyle tried to sleep in the room they had cleared for her. Taking the time to expose the side door for her use, to clean enough that she could walk through without being smeared with so much dirt she trailed it behind her. She didn’t want to live out in the stable—that was somewhere for animals, not a person.

But when she finally put Fay down that night, having a baby monitor with her just didn’t feel like enough. Could she really be sure that the occasional breath that made it through the mic would warn her in time if something went wrong? She walked into the bedroom, then flopped onto an old mattress smelling like it had been sitting in the dust for a decade now.

Nightmare-scenarios ran through her mind, where the baby escaped and went on a mad rampage with her magic, transforming anything that got too close into unrecognizable forms. Some secret government team would be called in, and ultimately all of them would be killed. But now all their neighbors would be caught in the crossfire too.

But even if her paranoia went nowhere and nothing so insane happened, it was still possible she’d sleep soundly, then wake before Kyle could get to her. The baby demanded attention, and even a mad rush to her bedside might not be fast enough to stop her from causing a disaster.

After stressing about her for a few more minutes, Kyle snuck back outside, and carefully slipped into the stable. The nursing couch might not be a bed, but there were blankets, and that would have to be enough. As soon as she was back inside, she slept soundly.

The next morning came, and its usual routine. She poked at the dwindling supply of diapers suited to Fay’s body, already half gone. Could they get more of something that shouldn’t exist so soon? Maybe she could look up a few naturalist mommy blogs and see what cloth diapers were about.

She wanted to get some practice with the spell she’d been sent, progress that was her only faint hope at finding a cure for her condition. But the baby had only just started amusing herself with the stuffed toys when her phone buzzed, and Kyle levitated it over. It wasn’t exactly surprising to see it was her mom messaging her. “Yeah?”

“We looked all over for you. Guess you’re outside with the baby?”

Of course, I am, it’s like eight. There’s no way she’d still be asleep this late into the morning. She bit back the instinct to argue the point. She would have to confront her mom about how absurd it was to keep Fay outside before the end of the day. “Yes. What is it? My homeschool stuff is ready?”

“No…” She could sense her mom’s hesitation before she’d even admitted it. Whatever this was, she wasn’t excited to share it. “We told you the family was sending someone. They’re in the house now, waiting for you. Please come in right away.”

Right, the doctor. Can’t wait to be told that this is impossible, I can’t be a horse, oh wait it’s real and there’s nothing they can do. “Do I really have to do this?” she asked weakly. “There’s no point. There’s nothing they can do for me.”

Her mom made a frustrated, noncommittal sound. “There’s… look, I know it might feel silly, but you can’t dismiss their help when you’re in a situation as desperate as yours. Everyone who looks at you might have something no one else has ever thought of. The only other choice we have is giving up, and my family doesn’t do that.” She hung up.

Kyle stared down at the phone for a few moments more, then lifted Fay gently up off the ground. “Sorry kiddo, looks like we are not in for the relaxing day I was expecting.”

Fay tilted her head slightly to one side, before sticking her tongue out and cooing. She seemed happy, yet a weight seemed to follow her. What did persistent sadness look like in a baby? Could Fay feel depressed? Or was that as far beyond her as any other kind of advanced reasoning? “Hopefully this doesn’t last too long, Fay. Just… try not to freak out around somebody new, okay?”

She carried the baby on her back, since that would mean she wouldn’t walk in using magic. One less thing to shock and terrify whatever doctor was waiting inside. Kyle stopped at the door to the side of the house, hesitating for a few more moments. She’d never actually let someone who wasn’t in the family see her before.

I need some pants. Kara, when you get home from school, I’m asking for pants.

She levitated the door open, then stepped inside. At least the strangeness of it was novel enough to keep Fay calm on her back. But how long could that keep her entertained?

The inside was brightly lit, with every window open to let in the light. On the far side of the room, a woman in a plain uniform scrubbed busily at the floor with a mop. She glanced up, jerked visibly at the sight of Kyle, then looked away without saying anything.

Who the hell are you?

“Hey bro,” called a voice from the kitchen. Kara perched on one cabinet in her pajamas, working on a bowl of cereal. “Wondered when you were going to show up. Was the new bedroom too dusty or whatever?”

“No, just… too far from her.” She nodded slightly towards Fay. “You’ve seen how much chaos she created. I didn’t want to find out what she would do if I left her out there all night.”

“Oh.” Kara set the bowl aside, then hopped down. She lowered her voice, resting one hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “These people, bro. I don’t know where Grandpa finds them, but I’m not a fan. Just get your test over with so we can get them out of here quick, yeah?”

“Shouldn’t you be at school?”

In answer, Kara held out one arm, complete with compression bandage. “We all got tested too. Something about exposure, guess they wanted to make sure we weren’t going to go all horse too. Just… slower or whatever. Guess it’s probably a good idea to make sure, but…” she twitched once. “Needles.”

“Where are they?”

“Dining room. Yeah, this wing has one of its own. Oh, I guess I’m supposed to hold onto the baby or whatever? Do you think she’d let me babysit her for a few minutes without having a meltdown?”

Kyle stopped, her tail jerking upright as she considered that. Fay was still giggling happily, so maybe she’d overcome any aversion to Kara by now? “We can try,” she said cautiously. “She’s already eaten and been changed, but… she gets bored easily. Even if she lets me, you’ll have to find something to keep her occupied.”

Fay helpfully contributed with a few giggling noises, maybe her attempts at words. Kara smiled out at her. “What do you think, Fay? Ready to spend a few minutes with your aunt while Kyle’s morning gets ruined?”

The baby cheered enthusiastically, or at least made sounds that weren’t unhappy.

This probably is better than bringing her. She wasn’t happy about Mom and Dad, the fewer people she has to be around the better. Kyle lifted her gently off her shoulders, offering her towards Kara. Her sister might not have held an alien baby before, but she had the right instincts, taking her in both arms. She sunk visibly with the weight, though she handled it about as well as Kyle had before being transformed.

She waited for Fay to freak out, to start crying or at least start getting unhappy. The baby only grinned at Kara, excitement apparently undiminished.

“Come right in if anything happens,” Kyle said. “You’ve seen how dangerous she can be. If you think she’s gonna lose it, get me before it’s too late.”

“I will,” Kara said, waving her away. “It won’t be that bad, Kyle. I’m one room away. Save all that worry for how you’re going to keep her calm during her checkup. Even human babies have trouble with doctors.”

Oh God. Kyle hurried away, rushing to the open doorway to the sitting room. She hadn’t even glanced that way while she explored the space her parents had cleared for her. Now she poked her head inside, wings half-extended at her sides. As though… what, was she going to fly away? Nevermind that she didn’t know how to use them, and she was inside.

She’d been half expecting the interior to be entirely transformed into a doctor’s office, with machines everywhere and a horse-sized medical bed for her to use. There was quite a large bag open on the table, with various medical-looking supplies poking out from inside. Not just a stethoscope and some bandages either, but a full field surgery kit, with dozens of little bottles and dangerous-looking cutting tools.

The one to use it all was smaller than Kara, or at least shorter. He wore a white jacket and a set of glasses that magnified his eyes far beyond what seemed normal, though he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Nor did he seem to care as Kyle walked in. He spun, watching Kyle with each step, before gesturing at a conspicuously empty patch of ground. There were deep scratches in the wood where furniture had once stood, but it was all gone now.

“You’ll be the son then, Kyle?” he asked, as though he was inspecting a piece of merchandise.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s me. Victim of…” She couldn’t even finish, and it didn’t seem like the man particularly cared in any case.

“Sit there, don’t move,” he said. “My nurse is otherwise engaged, so it will just be the two of us this morning.” He secured a surgical mask over his face and gloves on his hands, and made no attempt to shake. “I work for Mr. Harrington,” he continued. “I’ve been instructed to perform a full examination and determine the extent of the damage. I can already guess what that report will look like.”

Kyle moved to the place she’d been told, settling nervously on her haunches. At least being able to sit down meant she could conceal anything she was embarrassed about. There were little blessings to bizarre pony anatomy. “Maybe there’s no point to do the exam?” Kyle suggested. “You can already see how much of a horse I am. What are you going to learn?”

“Nothing you could comprehend,” the doctor said.

You never introduced yourself. Of course, you work for Grandpa, but who are you?

“We’ll start with blood,” he continued. “Then we’ll be taking samples of some other things. I’d like to make some determinations about the extent of this transformation, which you’ll probably find quite unpleasant. The more you cooperate with me, the faster this will go.”

He removed a little electric shaver from the bag, along with a pouch filled with everything she expected a doctor would need to draw blood. This is so pointless, what are you supposed to do to help me?

Nothing, except maybe get Grandpa to pull a few more strings for the family. When Kyle was young, they had listened to all her grandfather’s demands—a day when he’d had private tutors and the house was always filled with staff. Apparently this disaster was finally large enough for them to sacrifice their dignity all over again. And it’s all my fault.

“Shouldn’t you be freaking out about me?” Kyle asked. “You’re talking to a horse who should be a teenage boy.”

The doctor barely shrugged. Even so, it was the closest thing to an emotional reaction Kyle had seen from him yet. Maybe there was something human under there after all? “I’m not employed to ask questions; I’m employed to answer them. Let’s see how many answers we can give Mr. Harrington together.”

Chapter 22: Bedside Manner

Doctors’ visits were nothing new to Kyle, though her last few years had been dominated more by psychiatrists. Even so, she knew the basic procedure. Yet she’d never endured anything like this. At least those medical professionals had pretended to care about her comfort.

The nameless doctor started with measurements, which he took from anywhere and everywhere. Areas of her anatomy Kyle had pretended didn’t exist were rigorously investigated by a total stranger. Honestly, that was worse than the needles.

“And you’re positively certain this transformation doesn’t reverse according to any regular cycle?” The doctor asked, tossing a set of latex gloves casually into the bin. “You don’t revert at certain hours of the night, perhaps? Or maybe the effort of holding it strains greater and greater each day?”

I’m feeling one kind of strain right now, she thought angrily, tail whipping back and forth behind her. “Nothing like that,” she said, keeping her tone neutral only with great difficulty. “I’ve been up late, I’ve got up early, and I don’t feel anything that would suggest I’m changing back.” She backed away, and for the second time her rear bumped into the wall. These human rooms just weren’t big enough for her to feel like she had any personal space. “Is that something that happens?”

She might not know this doctor’s name, but she’d begun to read his reactions. He shrugged one shoulder noncommittally, an indication that he knew more but wouldn’t share it with her. “I have to rule out every potentiality. We begin with the irrational, and eventually only the factual will remain.”

On an empty section of a dusty bookshelf, the doctor had an open binder, where he attached samples and scribbled in his measurements. Presumably all those empty spots would hold photographs when he was done. And the more information he got, the less confident in his motives Kyle became. I’m not supposed to let anyone see me. There’s no way this doesn’t backfire.

“I’ve never encountered anything that includes such a bizarre inversion of biological sex,” the doctor went on, donning a fresh set of gloves and removing a set of sample containers from his bag. “Tell me, is your experience merely an alteration of phenotypes, or are there accompanying physical symptoms as well? Given the climate, I expect summer will be a very interesting time for you, all else being equal.”

If she could back away any further, she would. Backed up against the wall, Kyle could only feel like the eyes of an invisible mob were melting into her. What the hell are you talking about? “They’re functional,” she said flatly. “I guess you didn’t hear, that was the whole reason this happened. The baby, she… needed a guardian?” The words were like pulling teeth, but those giant eyes just kept staring. Did that man ever blink? “She was hungry, I guess. I gave her milk when I found her, but she didn’t want to drink it. Once she changed me… that was the first thing she wanted.”

The doctor just nodded knowingly, as though her impossible story was something he dealt with all the time. “That did seem likely given the sensitivity we measured. We’ll need to determine what the creature required that she was not obtaining through other means.” He gestured with the sample container, like a gun pointed at her chest. “It will be a shame to wait for the lab results.”

Oh god, are you going to try and fill that? Without any apparent prompting from her, Kyle’s horn started glowing. The doctor slid away from her along the floor, until he’d been pushed gently against the far wall. He didn’t try to resist, just stared with his mouth hanging open.

As soon as the danger faded, Kyle’s horn stopped glowing, and the doctor shook himself out, tossing the little sample container aside. “Well you didn’t tell me about that, Kyle. What did you just do?”

I’m pretty sure everyone knows I can do this. “I don’t know what to call it,” she said, settling down on her haunches. Please don’t remember what you were about to do. Let’s just pretend that never happened. “It just sorta… The baby was doing it before she attacked me, using an unseen force to move objects around. I guess maybe because we don’t have hands? It took me a few days to figure out how it worked, but it seems pretty easy. Makes sense, if a baby can do it. It’s like the wings, though. My level of control is… weak.”

Just thinking about them was enough for her wings to half-open of their own accord, spreading slightly to her either side.

“Telekinesis,” the doctor muttered. “Clearly your limits are more substantial than might otherwise be obvious, if you can push me around so easily.” He selected a few books from the shelf, tossing them onto the floor at her hooves. “Lift those both at once, and hold them as steadily as you can.”

The demand seemed stupid, but compared to where the test had just been going… she obeyed. Holding more than one thing was harder, but holding them steady meant even her flagging concentration wasn’t tested too severely. It got worse over the next few minutes, as the doctor added other objects, then asked her to arrange them in different ways.

Finally, he tossed an old globe in with everything else, and the strain was just too much. A headache began pounding in her head, and everything spilled out onto the ground in front of her.

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help fix me,” she said, rubbing one hoof against her temple. It didn’t help. “I can move some stuff, and it’s made things way easier with no hands. But I don’t think I’ll be able to lift objects around enough to change back.”

“Of course not.” At least the doctor didn’t look bothered by Kyle’s failure. He just scribbled down a few more specific details about it, then set the notebook aside. “The more data we can gather about this body, the closer we are to identifying what you have become. That information will allow us to examine and perhaps even discover a way to reverse this, if that is the most desirable outcome.”

What do you mean ‘if’? “How?” she asked instead. “How do you change a horse back into a person?”

“Unicorn,” the doctor corrected, as though she’d misspoken some technical medical term. Certainly not something she’d ever expected to hear from a doctor. “Possibly something more. The addition of the wings confuses anything I’ve studied, yet you clearly do match at least some of what is said. Telekinesis implies the existence of other abilities, though we would know to expect them even without it. After all, the infant changed you. It suggests a high likelihood that you have similar if not entirely identical abilities.”

And yet the baby has control of hers, and I don’t know anything about myself. More importantly, why was a doctor entertaining all this talk of the supernatural as though any of it made sense to him? How did Grandpa make his money?

“I don’t have the experience for a full examination,” the doctor continued. “My colleague will probably have more questions for you on that subject, when she’s finished with—”

A scream cut through the house, echoing so loudly that Kyle thought for a moment Fay had somehow appeared in the room with her.

No, the scream wasn’t coming from beside her, she was down the hall. One scream was soon joined with several more familiar cries of terror. Her parents.

Kyle didn’t hear what the doctor said next, but she didn’t really care. She ran, kicking the door open ahead of her and darting straight back towards the kitchen. There was a… pile of rocks on the floor near the counter, near some ripped cloth. Medical equipment rested on the kitchen table, more invasive than anything her doctor had brought.

A bundle on the table twisted and squirmed in sterile cloth, the obvious source of the crying. Kyle peeled it away, lifting Fay up against her chest. It didn’t mean quite the same thing as it might for a human, but it was the only thing she could think to do.

“What the hell did you do?” She spun, glaring around the room. She intended to scream at Kara—she should’ve known better than to let them touch Fay without her around! Hadn’t she seen just how powerful the baby was?

She didn’t see Kara, only another doctor—a woman slightly shorter than he was, with skin a jaundice yellow under her jacket.

She held a tablet under one arm, and her strange eyes were wide with horror. “Shouldn’t be in there,” she breathed. “She’s unstable! Killed the girl.”

Killed the, what? Kyle was only dimly aware of another figure standing in the doorway behind her—her mom, her skin stark white.

She stroked Fay with one wing, not needing to think about it. The baby’s heart raced, and she had at least two bandages wrapped around one limb. What had they expected from a baby?

“God, she shot me,” someone croaked. Kara’s voice, coming from the floor. Was she hiding behind the kitchen table? “Someone get me some morphine or something.”

Kyle’s head was already spinning from the magical exam. But the longer she stood in front of them, the more confused she became. No one had died, that was obvious. There was just that pile of rocks, maybe a piece of furniture Fay had shattered? Her magic could be scary.

“Well that’s entirely horrifying,” her doctor said, emerging from the hall behind her, taking in the scene with clinical disinterest. “I did suggest it would be better to wait until the surrogate mother could be present, Mars.”

“She was supposed to be sedated,” the woman argued. “Must have some resistance. Dosage was off…”

Maybe that was why Fay was calming down so quickly. She kept trying to fly herself towards the door, probably back to the stable and safety from so many strange people. But her magic wasn’t working, and Kyle could hold her without too much difficulty. She just squeaked and moaned in frustration, little wings flapping impotently.

“What’s the proper dosage for an extinct animal? Forget the rest of your tests, Mars. It’s clearly not safe to remain here.” He glanced down at the disordered pile of rocks, then stepped pointedly backward. “I’ll gather my findings and retreat from the front. You do the same from the back.”

“Kara, did you really get shot?” she called, no longer caring what the strange doctors had to say, or caring about interrupting them. “Don’t go yet! You might need to treat Kara!”

“Feels about like that,” she said. Except the voice wasn’t coming from behind the table. Kyle hadn’t seen it, maybe because her eyes didn’t know how. But now she could, and she stumbled back, her grip on Fay faltering for a moment.

There was no broken glass in the room, no collapsed furniture. As she watched, a shape that was transparent and glassy solidified before her eyes. Slightly yellow glass became opaque, and suddenly she sat up.

Not broken furniture at all, but a little horse shaped very similarly to Kyle herself. There was no sharp bone on the head, no wings… but everything else was about the same. Except for the butt, Kyle didn’t have any tattoos, and this one did.

The horse looked down at her forelegs, then touched one against her chest. It clicked like a pair of lead crystal glasses tapped together. Then she spoke with Kara’s voice. “Oh god. I thought she’d just shot me. It’s so much worse.”

Fay groaned, sticking her tongue out and hissing at Mars. How did she still have enough strength left to light up her horn like that?

“As I said, an expeditious retreat,” the male doctor said. “We cannot interpret the results if we too are destroyed by the animal, Mars. Meet me outside, if you would.”

She nodded, backing further away from the baby. Fay watched her go, like a soldier aiming a rifle with every step. Only when she was finally gone did she squeak happily, then start to snore.”

“Mom?” Kara asked, her voice desperate. “Please tell me this isn’t real.”

Mom shook her head sadly, then shut the door.

They were abruptly alone, with a kitchen full of fancy medical gear and a peacefully snoring bomb.

Chapter 23: Friendly Fire

Kyle was entirely frozen, staring at a creature that certainly wasn’t her sister. The more she moved, the more the traces of how glassy and transparent she had looked faded. Her brain fought against what she’d seen, and already the memory of it seemed hazy. Someone changed into a horse—that was terrible, but it also wasn’t unexpected. Fay had already shown she had that power.

She shook her head once, and when she looked again, she couldn’t see through Kara anymore. Her hair had a strange sheen to it, and there was a glint to her eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

Kyle glanced back down at Fay, making sure she was still sleeping. It was probably the medication—but then she had fallen asleep soon after changing Kyle. Once she’d eaten, anyway.

Kyle hesitated in the hallway a moment, giving the mysterious doctor a chance to scurry away with his equipment. This should’ve been you. Or maybe your partner, since Mars was the one who wanted to start without me. Absolute morons, you already knew she could do this! And now Kara was the one who paid the price, instead of the ones who deserved it.

Kyle strode quickly into the bedroom prepared for her, settling Fay near the center of the bed. It wasn’t the safest—she could still roll too far to one side or the other and fall. But a naked mattress on the floor didn’t give her much height, particularly with how big she was to begin with. It would have to do.

She shut the door quietly behind her, finally turning back towards Kara. The horse-creature didn’t look anything like her, not from the yellow of her coat to the pastel blues of her mane. Oh my god now she’s going to be naked all the time too.

Kara looked up, her eyes the same hazel she remembered, only much larger. Tears streamed down her face, though she was obviously fighting them. “Bro?” she asked, watching her as she approached. Kara was still shorter than she was, now that she’d been changed. Almost like their original heights had somehow been restored.

Was I transparent like that when I first changed? But my hair doesn’t look like hers. Kyle stopped just beside her, reaching out and settling one foreleg on her shoulder. It didn’t feel the same as touching her own body. Kara was smooth and cool to the touch, but not quite like skin. She fought her instinct to shiver, just meeting her eyes. “Yeah, Kara?”

“I need you to tell me I’m dreaming,” she said. Kara shook out her head, prodding at herself with one hoof. “I need you to help me wake up from this. I dozed off, or that creepy doctor lady jabbed me instead of the baby. I need you to tell me that.”

Kyle was silent for a few seconds. She didn’t pull her leg away, and soon enough she found Kara leaning up against her chest. Those were her pajamas torn to ribbons on the floor. She should’ve been petrified with embarrassment, but somehow just… couldn’t feel it.

“I would if I could,” she began. “When it first happened to me, I… I didn’t believe it either. Still doesn’t seem fair, or real, or…”

“Why?” Kara whispered, her voice barely even loud enough for Kyle to overhear. “What did I do?”

You could’ve tried to get me once they started poking at Fay. But that wasn’t what her sister needed right now. It still wasn’t her fault; she’d just been the one to take the bullet. “Nothing. It shouldn’t have been you.”

“Yeah.” Kara closed her eyes, whimpering quietly. “It shouldn’t have been you either, though. What were you supposed to do, just leave it to die? That’s not what happens in the movies. Aren’t things supposed to get better for the ones who do the right thing?”

What does that even mean? Kyle nodded stupidly anyway, doing her best to reassure her. It had been years since she’d been the one to reassure Kara, instead of the other way around. High school had turned their lives upside-down.

“It’s real,” Kara said, her voice still heavy with disbelief. “Even though it… can’t be. People don’t turn into animals.”

Except that doctor seems to think they do. And there’s the person I’m emailing, who even has a name for it. “No, they don’t.”

Kara was silent for a long time. Kyle could try to reassure her, but it still rang hollow. There was no arguing with what patently had happened. Kara wiped the moisture away from her face, before finally rising to unsteady hooves.

Kyle had been through this process before, so she didn’t need to watch closely. She could still remember that disorientation, fighting the instinct to stand up properly every moment. But when Kara tried, all she could do was wobble on her hooves before flopping back down with a click of hooves on wood.

It’s not the same sound as mine make. You’re something different. Why? “What happened, Kara? I thought you were going to wait until my exam was done.”

“That was the plan,” she said, spinning a slow circle to try and look at her tail. Once she found a mirror, she wasn’t going to like what she found.

Though it probably won’t be as hard for you. It can’t be that different than what you’re used to.

“But then Mars showed up, and started making demands. Your baby was not happy with her in the room, and she started freaking out so much I couldn’t really control her. That’s when Mars decided she needed drugs.”

At least some of Kara’s original energy was still there. “I’m not sure if she was aiming for Mars, or maybe it was the same as last time.”

“She might’ve felt threatened,” Kyle agreed. “So, she reached for the first person she trusted, and changed you. But it doesn’t seem the same as what she did to me. That’s… strange. I wonder why.”

“We’re not the same?” Kara asked, settling back onto her haunches. There was a hint of embarrassment on her face as she did so, tail tucking between her legs. So, she’d recovered enough to realize she was naked. “I sure feel like a fucking horse, bro.”

And if I had my phone handy, I’d take a selfie. “You’re a horse, but… there are some differences.” She poked her side, then touched her forehead. Kyle was even more careful than she would’ve been with a human. What if I break her by accident? Can people shatter? “No horn, no wings. You’re something else. Something hard. And you’ve got a mark, I don’t.”

Kara glanced over her shoulder, staring at it. It might be made of something like stone, but it was apparently just as flexible as Kyle’s. “Is that a stork?”

Kyle nodded. “Looks like one to me. I… have no idea what it means, don’t ask. I don’t know what any of this means. I’m just glad Fay didn’t kill you.

“Oh, there’s still time for that.” She rose, puffing out her chest. “How the hell am I supposed to hide this at school, Kyle? Varsity soccer plays tonight at six, what are they supposed to do without a point guard? We’ve got a meet for swim on Saturday, and aca-deca has a qualifier a week from now…”

You don’t have to rub it in. I get it, you had a life. “I want to change back as much as you, Kara. I’ve been doing my own research. I put up with that gremlin of a doctor even though I knew it was a waste of time.”

Yet even as she said it, the words felt untrue. She hadn’t expected any family doctor working for her grandfather to know anything. But both of them had acted entirely calm around them, and responded to the supernatural with scientific curiosity instead of terror.

But I can’t ask what the hell’s going on, because now they’re hiding from us. How is this worse than last time? You already knew Fay could change people.

“How close are you to that?” Kara rose, prodding her on the shoulder. “Go on, Kyle. Let’s see this miracle. Only you get to test it on me first, because if you do yourself and I’m stuck, I get to trample you to death. Horse rules.”

We don’t really look like horses. “Yeah. I’ll work on it. Laptop is out back, I’ll grab it. I don’t know what Mom and Dad can do now, though. Maybe they really should call in the national guard and quarantine this whole place. Like… what if it gets worse? We don’t know how powerful Fay is. What if she’s a little push needed to eradicate all humanity out of a false vacuum of biostability. Maybe she’s going to end the human race, and we could’ve stopped it.”

“Sure.” Kara glared at her, with the same expression she always used when Kyle had said something dumb. “But if we’re going to greater good ourselves, why not just use gasoline? It’s not like the army will do differently. They’ll just feel a little bad about it first.”

She was probably right, but some part of Kyle couldn’t help but think they were being selfish. Ultimately she dismissed the thought—not because of fear for herself, but Fay asleep in the other room. That baby wasn’t evil, and it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t expose her to something like that, to get attacked and destroyed for something that wasn’t her fault.

It wasn’t even her fault she changed Kara. Mars should’ve been the one to get blasted. Then they could take as many samples as they wanted without making me hate being alive.

“I’ll be right back,” Kyle promised. “Same thing as before, run if Fay wakes up. But I’m just grabbing some stuff from outside.”

Kara nodded, standing again. “Cool cool, I could… use the privacy for a sec. And if I hear her, my signal will be that I’m running away in terror. I’m not going to let the little monster finish the job.”

Guess the brainwashing didn’t work on you.

Kyle walked past her, opening the door and settling it shut behind her moments later.

Her parents were both feet away, watching from a window inside the house. Mom had somehow got her hands on a surgical mask, which she wore like it would make a difference. Dad didn’t bother, holding Mom with more strength than Kyle had for Kara.

In his eyes was all the disappointment and despair Kyle had thought to expect. Do you think it’s my fault? I should’ve just left the baby to die? But the man didn’t turn away, or start yelling. Instead he reached forward, opening the kitchen window a crack. Enough to talk.

“We have to stay away from you,” he said. “Tell your sister that we want to be there for her. Unless you… are Kara. Are you?”

“No,” Theresa answered. “She wasn’t as big. Looked different.”

“Right. Well, tell her then. My father’s people… they’ll try to help. But now both of you are missing. It’s going to… make this harder to deal with. Harder to hide.” He braced one hand on the wall, steadying himself. Somehow, he managed to sound calm through all of it, and didn’t look away in disgust. “We’ll leave food on the doorstep for you. Please don’t leave any more than you have to. If the baby infects anyone else, this could be impossible to control.”

As though it isn’t already. “I will,” Kyle promised. “But you don’t have to stay that far away. Fay doesn’t just attack things at random. She only did that because they were giving her a medical exam without me there. She freaked out. She won’t do that if I’m there.”

Maybe her dad could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “We can’t let this spread,” Dad said again. “Doctor Imset seemed sure he had an angle.”

“How?” Mom asked, not even looking at Kyle anymore. “What’s the goddamn angle, Alan? My children are farm animals, and we might be next.”

Kyle backed away, towards the stable. She barely had enough strength left for herself—if she started trying to help Mom too, she’d probably just melt into a pile and die.

But Alan only made an unhelpful expression, the same the unnamed doctor had made. Or… Imset, maybe that was it? He did seem old enough. “There’s nothing else we can do, Theresa. The time to run from this ended as soon as Kyle brought it in the house.”

Kyle felt the weight of those words all the way to the stable. She didn’t try to argue—Dad was right.

This isn’t Kara’s fault, it’s mine.

Chapter 24: Shared Burden

Kyle spent the next few hours with her laptop, studying her magical instructions. Well, she still wasn’t sure any of it was magical, but given the instant response on her agreement spell it did seem like a safe bet. It was a bit like learning an entirely new branch of mathematics, without the years of lower-level instruction to make her prepared for it. Mostly she stared at the screen, scrolling through pages and trying to feel something that wasn’t there. Monday said this was one of the easiest spells for her to learn. Then why was it so frustratingly difficult?

After about an hour of study, her anxiety over Fay had started to grow again, and she packed everything up to head back inside. Sleeping during the day like this was unlike the baby, and the longer she stayed away the more uncomfortable she became.

But there was no fire raging in the house when she came back inside, just her sister sitting quietly in front of the table staring down at something on its surface. She approached slowly, settling her bag down by the door. Was she digging through the abandoned medical supplies? Or… no, that was her phone on the table. She was holding something in her forelegs, trying to hold herself in place while also manipulating something between her hooves.

“Are you trying to text?” she asked, gently pushing the door closed. She glanced once down the hallway, just to be sure the bedroom was shut. It was, and there was no wailing calling for her. I guess that makes sense. You changed someone into a horse, and they gave you sleeping drugs. “That’s not going to work.”

Kara looked up, glaring. “You should’ve told your freaky baby to give me a horn then. This is… the only way I can think of. The team has to know I won’t make it.”

Kyle approached slowly; in case she was lying about what was on her screen. But no, it was just a badly misspelled message to her team. She sighed, nodding towards one of the icons. “Just voice dictate. It’s way better than typing it out letter by letter.”

Kara hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess it’s swine flu or whatever, so they won’t let me out. I’m sorry, girls.” A few seconds later and the message appeared. “Wish you’d come in here sooner. I’ve been doing this for an hour.”

Kyle nodded. “I was just studying my… magic, I guess? I thought about bringing it inside, but I figured you might want a little time to yourself.”

Kara nodded gratefully, not meeting her eyes. “Thanks. I guess it helps, but I’m still not sure… it can get better.”

“Probably not,” Kyle agreed. “We can get used to it, but that’s not the same thing.”

Kara turned away from the phone, settling back down on her haunches. “So how close are we to fixed, Kyle? How many more hours of practicing do you need until you can change us back?”

She opened her mouth to refuse the question, then hesitated. She’d promised quite clearly not to say anything about what she was doing to any human, but Kara wasn’t another human anymore. Why shouldn’t she talk about it? “The first thing Monday sent was a spell to make light. Like a… flashlight, I guess. I don’t know how far the actual transformation is, but I feel like it’s a long way away.” She didn’t want to say it, but… she could lie to her parents, but not to Kara. “If my progress is this slow, I expect it will take months.”

And even that was optimistic, since she hadn’t done any magic yet. Only the telekinesis, which didn’t feel anything like what Monday was trying to teach her.

Kara shook her head violently. “Hell no are we waiting that long. I can’t just put my life on hold, Kyle.” She turned back, picking up her phone in her mouth and holding it up as best she could. Despite her teeth in the way, Kyle could understand her well. He’d had a lifetime to understand all the silly things Kara could do. “I’ve got things happening! School isn’t just about a place I have to be for a few hours, it’s where my life is!”

Kyle’s ears flattened at the implications, though of course she couldn’t argue. School was just an obligation for her, something she’d hated and would’ve quit if her parents let her. “Let me say it a different way, Kara. I want to be changed back as badly as you do. I’m not saying you don’t have more to live for, or whatever you’re trying to say. We all know you’re better than me at everything. I’m not slacking because I can’t understand an entirely new science I’ve never even looked at before yesterday. I’ll spend as much time studying as I can.”

Something echoed from the doorway. Kyle turned, halfway expecting the return of those awful doctors—but her fears were in vain. She could only see her parents’ retreating backs. There was a tray in front of the door, one that hadn’t been there before.

Kyle hurried over, though she wasn’t fast enough to catch her parents there. They’d already slipped over to the other door, and vanished into the house. Are you afraid of the baby, or us?

Either way, the tray was far better prepared than anything they’d done so far. There was a single large bowl of mixed vegetables, along with a liter of juice and some utensils. The veggies smelled fresh, and they looked even better.

“You guys didn’t bring me anything like this,” Kyle muttered, settling it onto the kitchen table. She shoved the medical bag up against the wall, nodding towards the bowl. “Go on then. You’re probably hungry.”

“I already had breakfast earlier,” Kara said, shrugging one shoulder. “Besides, I’m not eating for two. You can go first.”

Kyle wasn’t about to fight to be the most helpful, not when Kara was entirely right about how hungry she always felt. It wasn’t long before she pulled over a bowl, though she lacked the ability to eat it normally as Kyle had started doing. Kara had to bend down to the bowl, picking things up with her teeth. She tried with one hoof, and entirely failed to manipulate a fork with it. “Well… this is crap,” she muttered. “How is this fair?”

Kyle half expected to see the food visible through her body, but that horror didn’t come true. Probably just some weird side-effect to the transformation. One that had faded slower than with Kyle, seeing as her mane still shone metallic.

“It’s not. You want to trade being able to use a fork for nursing a baby?”

“I probably would’ve eventually,” Kara said, voice defeated. “Didn’t think my twin brother would.”

Neither did he.

“It does seem worth thinking about,” Kara said, a few moments later. She’d only half-finished her bowl, measured to exactly half in the brotherly way. Kyle watched to see if she would change her mind, then levitated it over and dumped its contents into her own empty bowl. There has to be more we can eat than raw fruits and veggies. It was keeping her alive at least, but it hardly felt like living. How much cold food did she have to endure before she tasted something real again?

“Why I’m different. Baby curses both of us. We’re twins, aren’t we supposed to respond to things the same way? Or… wait, that’s maternal twins. You’re not a girl. But now you are, and… you’re more different than before.” She poked Kyle in one wing, looking thoughtful. “You look like her, kinda. Her nurse… her mom, really. I guess that makes sense. But what did she make me? Maybe I’m… more like that magical bedroom. You think maybe she was just trying to recreate something familiar?”

“Maybe. She was hungry, so she made someone to feed her. She hated living in the stables, so she changed them. She felt threatened, and… made someone to protect her? Maybe you’re a guard?”

Kara rose, twisting her rear slightly towards Kyle. “I’m branded, did you think about that? A stork… could be a baby symbol. Maybe I’m a baby guard.” She settled down onto her haunches, glowering. “I don’t care what it wants me to be. I won’t let her force me into something. You might be cool with a weird alien ruining your whole life, but I’m not.”

“I’m not either—” Kyle began, but then she heard something coming from down the hall. A squealing, echoing loudly towards them. There was only one thing that could be. She rose, darting for the bedroom. “I’m coming!”

“Yeah, you’re not cool with it,” Kara said flatly. “I totally believe you. That’s why you’re fighting this so hard.”

What the hell was I supposed to do, leave her to get eaten by mountain lions?

She hurried inside, lifting Fay out of bed. “Morning sweetie! No more mean doctors this time… they’re gone. I wish you could’ve scared them off without attacking Kara, though. She was just trying to help you.”

Fay didn’t seem to be listening. She squirmed towards her almost silently, her mouth working. Better in here than out there.

The old mattress wasn’t as comfortable as the couch in the nursery, but it was still better than standing up and feeling like she was an animal. Fay had taken her humanity away, but that didn’t mean she had to submit to that change. The baby probably wouldn’t even have wanted her to. The nursery she created was nothing like a stable, but seemed ready for horse-civilization to move in. Kara’s tragic transformation might offer the next clue to where Fay had come from.

“What did you do to her?” she asked, knowing full well the baby wouldn’t answer. “Why couldn’t you blast the doctor instead? Kara didn’t deserve it. She only wanted to help us.”

Kara appeared in the doorway moments later. She watched silently, ears pressing flat in embarrassment. But what might’ve been mortifying for Kyle to see in her place barely seemed to phase her. “You think she’ll answer you if you keep asking questions like that?”

Kyle shrugged, though she couldn’t move far without disturbing the baby. She kept her voice as soft as she could. “Aren’t you supposed to talk to babies? I know they don’t understand, but… everybody does it, don’t they? How are they supposed to learn how to talk otherwise?”

Kara shrugged, sitting down again. “I don’t know if that’s touching or grim, Kyle. It’s sweet that you’re willing to help that baby so much, even when it… ruins our lives and stuff. But do you really think you’ll have to worry about how well she learns how to talk? That takes years, and she’s not really yours. You don’t have to worry about raising her, you just have to…” She trailed off.

“I don’t know either,” Kyle said. “What am I waiting for? If Monday is right, she didn’t come from a company, she was created by… an Invisible Master, whatever the hell that is. There’s nowhere for her to go. She doesn’t have real parents, only the ones who made her. Probably for selfish reasons. Maybe the reason she made me was because she didn’t have a home.”

Kara shrugged. “Maybe. So what? You help her now, while we don’t have any other choice. I probably would’ve helped a helpless little baby too, if I found one in the woods. But sooner or later, we need to decide when enough is enough. She doesn’t get to ruin your life, or our lives, or thousands of other peoples’ lives. Look at what she did to me, Kyle. I’m a fucking horse. Everything is over now. No more sports, no more friends, just hiding in this dusty old room. How many other people does she attack before you let her go?”

“As soon as we have somewhere safe for her,” Kyle said weakly. She extended one wing instinctively, covering the baby from Kara’s words. As though that would make any difference. “I will give her up, Kara. I hope I’m wrong, and there’s someone I can give her to. But if not… I’m still trying to find a way to use this magic stuff. Maybe I’ll take care of her after I’m fixed, if there’s nothing else to do with her. That’s… something to worry about later. I still have to learn the magic.”

“Or those creepy doctors find a cure,” Kara added. “I don’t know why Grandpa bothered. Were they just here to freak her out and see if she would melt down? If so, let’s point her towards them next time. Maybe they’ll be even smaller horses than we are.”

Chapter 25: Venture

Twilight Sparkle circled her workbench, occasionally leaning in close to prod at a gear or fiddle with the wires leading to a thaumic crystal. Her creation remained dutifully still, perched on a pedestal that would act as its home and repair station.

It was about the size of Owlicious, and based on a similar avian body-plan. A probe meant to travel through a Worldgate would certainly encounter rough terrain, and couldn’t rely on something as feeble as wheels or a single rotor like Tank’s flight-harness. These wings were covered with a mix of borrowed pony feathers, which meant that they were a scattered mix of colors that friends had donated. Unlike animals, pegasus ponies were powerfully resistant to wind and harsh weather, and that magic was concentrated in their feathers.

Those multicolored wings were wide and single jointed like an ordinary pegasus, though she’d reinforced them with sturdy metal wire. The central body glittered in her laboratory spotlight; a molded metal shell lined with gold tracings to outline the spells she’d cast. The Crystal Empire continued to pour outrageous sums into her research, without any sign of restricting her. Cadence expected daily updates on her progress, but those messages were shorter and shorter now.

The little probe didn’t have eyes, but “saw” through a single blue crystal that protruded from both sides of its cylindrical body. It didn’t have feet either, but a single claw was attached near the bottom, with sharp pincers poised to accomplish the single task she required of it. A a sample of living plant tissue, and Twilight could confirm they’d found the right destination.

“What do you think?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “An impressive little design, isn’t it?” More impressive that she’d come up with it so quickly. Her alma mater had engineers who could’ve created something like this in a few months. Twilight had assembled the entire thing in a few sleepless days.

“It looks… a little weird.” Spike’s voice didn’t come from behind her, but the other side of the table. Apparently, he’d moved without her realizing it. She’d been so focused on what she was building that Twilight hadn’t even seen. “Are you sure that thing can fly?”

“That’s one of the things we’ll test,” Twilight said. “We need to thoroughly examine its capabilities, then make sure our documentation is exact. The Crystal Empire’s engineers will have to build a dozen just like him, maybe more.”

She levitated a thick stack of blueprints onto the table, spreading them in front of her assistant. “I was working from a central plan, but I’m not sure it’s detailed enough for another pony to use it. That might take me as long as building it.”

“I don’t understand why… you bothered,” Spike said. “If that weird bird is so good, won’t one be enough? We can fix anything that goes wrong between trips, right? I assume it teleports back here just like the bird, uh…” He winced. Fluttershy still wasn’t speaking to them after that. Twilight would have to find the right way to apologize—once these designs got to the Crystal Empire.

Nopony wanted to hurt animals, but we have a princess to save. Can’t she understand that risks come with the territory? That bird was a little hero.

“When we were working with a living creature, a reprogrammable Worldgate would let us test… one configuration a week,” she said. “Assuming our tests returned safe results on the other side. Farcasting spells across a Worldgate takes me hours, and that’s just to measure one thing. A team of unicorns doing the same job would probably take days for each one. Ultimately… I can’t do nothing but conduct this search for the rest of my life, Spike. I’m still a princess who needs to help run Equestria. Dangers haven’t stopped coming just because we lost my niece.”

“So, you think they’ll break the… what are we even calling this?”

“A probe,” Twilight said. She spread one wing defensively, catching his smile. “I know I stole the word; you don’t have to tell me. Lots of new ideas come from thaumic fiction before they’re made in reality. And yes, I think they’ll break it. But that’s what they’re for. If we know we’re only sending machines, then it doesn’t matter if we break some. We can do less testing of each new world we scan. Visit a few each week, instead of just one.”

Spike reached out, poking at the wing with one claw. “Isn’t it kinda creepy you made it from real fathers like that? You could’ve used, like…”

“They’d still be real feathers,” Twilight interrupted. “If we used bird feathers, Fluttershy would just be more upset, and the probe wouldn’t be able to fly through a storm.” She tossed him a clipboard off the table. Spike caught it, producing a quill from somewhere. “I want you taking notes. We can’t send these designs to be mass-produced if it doesn’t even work.”

She waited until Spike was ready, then tapped one hoof on the platform, bridging the metal contacts in her spell.

The probe’s single eye began to glow, a breathing cycle of brighter and darker as it surveyed the room around it. The motors on its wings whirred slightly as it flapped once, a movement test more than any actual attempt at locomotion. “Deploy,” Twilight said, as clearly as she could. Sure, the probe wasn’t an animal that might learn and obey more complex instructions, but it didn’t really need to be.

The probe took off, its wings moving through the complex range required for flight. She watched to see if Spike was properly impressed—did he have any idea how hard it was to translate the flapping motion of a wing into hovering in place like this? Apparently not, though at least he’d started scribbling.

The probe chimed cheerfully; its signal of a command obeyed. One of the few it knew. “Life,” Twilight said. “Locate.”

The little probe hovered there for a moment, then flew straight into the nearby window. It smacked loudly, bouncing backward against the ground. Twilight winced as it struck, making about the same sound as a music-box kicked down the stairs. It stopped moving after that.

Maybe the wings were too much.

Chapter 26: Remove

Kyle held perfectly still, her mind focused on the image in front of her with the same attention she might’ve poured into the last few minutes of a raid. Only instead of snap-decisions and rapidly assessing the state of a digital battle, here it was all about focus. She could think of nothing else, consider nothing else. The “spell” required total precision.

Kyle didn’t even open her eyes, for fear that the room around her would be enough of a distraction to break her concentration. Everything was prepared for this moment—she’d fed the baby, controlled the temperature and the lights. She would have used a sensory deprivation tank if they had one.

As she rested, thoughts of her failure kept fighting their way back to the surface. Her sister had been drawn into this nightmare because of her. She’d had days of magical practice, and still not seen anything approaching meaningful success. Kyle was a failure.

But she wasn’t alone anymore. Whether it was just Kara’s involvement that had persuaded her parents to finally take an active role, or just the time for them to adjust to the current impossible, she wasn’t alone. As furious as she was that Kara had been dragged into all this, Kara’s company did mean someone to help with the baby. And lots of other things.

It meant that Kyle didn’t have to constantly question her own sanity.

Without warning, without any hint of what was happening, Kyle’s perception shifted. The meaningless configuration of symbols weren’t just shapes, they were an equation. It was like the moment she’d first understood the formula for the volume of a cylinder. These shapes were something similar, but for light. Her own body provided the energy in, and focused the energy out.

Kyle’s horn began to glow, a soft purple that matched her eyes. But this was far brighter than the illumination accompanying her telekinesis—this was light for its own sake, with an intensity specified by the symbols she’d been given.

Kyle opened her eyes—she was splayed on the mattress in her oversized bed, with every light switched off. But the room wasn’t dark anymore. She moved slowly, afraid that even the slightest perturbation might wreck her concentration and dissolve the spell.

That proved harder than she had initially worried. The equation wasn’t gone just because she wasn’t as focused on it. She could feel the invisible exertion, the same one she had to use whenever she lifted something. This would drain her stamina the same way as any exercise. That was probably why Fay acted so tired after attacking someone with her powers.

I’m older and bigger than she is, I should have more power to work with. Right?

Kyle stumbled out of bed, moving slowly enough that she could keep up the spell. It wasn’t that hard to keep the glow going, but if she let it die, it might be too hard to cast the spell again.

She took her laptop in her teeth, pulling it onto the bed and flipping it open with her nose. She’d had enough practice over the last week of being a horse not to break things accidentally. Her magic was far more dangerous.

Of course, she wouldn’t be able to type with her mouth, not with any speed. Could she keep up the light spell and move things around at the same time?

Kyle tried, focusing on the keyboard again. She brought up the email client. By now she was half-expecting that her mythical mentor would already have sent her something. But no, Monday hadn’t sent any new messages.

She typed quickly, writing out a message to the wizard. She tried to get specific with the details of how it felt, enough that it would be convincing. At this rate I’m never going to move on to the magic needed to change us back. But she didn’t send that much. She couldn’t get annoyed or needy, or else her companion might not reply.

Their spell worked. Maybe the agreement to apprentice with Monday had been a fluke. But the spell worked. She could see the logic behind it now, the meaning in those symbols. If only she had more of them, she might’ve been able to try a different spell…

She ended her message with a timid request for more of the symbols, enough that she could rewrite the values of the light spell and play with different configurations. Hopefully that wouldn’t suggest she wanted nothing else but light.

She’d probably been hiding for a little too long, even with her sister to keep an eye on the baby. Kyle sent the message, then flipped the screen closed.

Her horn kept glowing, so long as she kept concentrating. The light was dimmer than before, as though somehow a measurement of her strength depleting over time. But it was still there, even when she wasn’t lifting anything.

Kyle paused to check herself in the mirror, and with her focus the light grew even brighter than before.

A full week as a horse had done strange things to her. The mane was now entirely out of control without anyone to style it, its different colors no longer gracefully layered. Her eyes were baggy with late nights studying magic, and her tail swished nervously no matter what she was doing.

But she was still here, that was the important thing. Fay hadn’t blown up the house, animal control hadn’t dragged them away for study as the dangerous aliens they were. She hadn’t been sent out into the wilderness with Kara never to be seen again.

She pushed the door open with a shoulder, and was momentarily blinded by the light streaming in from out front. Her spell flickered for a second, then died as the pain in her head dissolved the pattern. “Dammit.”

“And the avenging hero returns,” called Kara from down the hall, somewhere between annoyed and relieved. “About time, this little monster is getting antsy. I don’t think she likes it when mommy stays away for too long.”

Kyle emerged from down the hall a moment later, glaring at her. She didn’t even bother starting an argument over it, though. Fay clearly did see her as her mother.

Something soft and pink collided with her at chest level, so unexpectedly that she nearly fell over. She squeaked in surprise, then caught the baby in her wings before she could get away. “What have you been up to, troublemaker? Not burning the house down I hope.”

Fay squealed and babbled incomprehensibly, though there was something decidedly smug in the sound. You are way too smart for your age. Whatever that age was.

Kara had obviously been trying to work, however difficult Fay made it. The kitchen table was covered in schoolwork, with their books piled up in the center. She had to do everything with her mouth, which obviously hadn’t been easy for her. Kara’s usually flawless handwriting now looked more like Kyle’s own.

“It looks like we’re cheating the other way,” Kyle muttered, stopping beside the table. “Or you got a brain injury.”

Kara stuck out her tongue, pulling the sheets away from him. “Do you want me to cheat for you or not, bro?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She pulled over a cushion, their current substitute for real chairs. Even if they weren’t grossly oversized, the usual range of human sitting motions required for chairs weren’t terribly comfortable for them now. Besides, that meant she could set the baby down in front of her to have some freedom wandering around without worrying she was going to fall off something.

“I’m not just doing it because—” Kara went on. “Not that I don’t want to be supportive, Kyle. But you’ve gotta start pulling your weight around here if you want me to keep doing your work for you.”

I want to get back to the real world too, she thought. She didn’t need the printed spell diagram this time—she’d been staring at it for so long that she could call it back with a little focus. Her horn started glowing, bright enough that she could fight the light of the window. “You mean like this?”

Kara’s mouth hung open. Fay, meanwhile, squirmed away from her, trotting a few steps. She didn’t seem to mind living in the abandoned wing nearly as much as she’d hated the stables, though there were still signs of her magic wherever Kyle looked. The window was the most notable example, which was now faintly blue glass instead of clear, surrounded with crystal molding set with little hearts.

“Okay yeah, exactly like that.” She was at her side in seconds, one leg wrapped around her shoulder. “What did you do? Was the printout not good enough?”

Kyle lifted a wing to her mouth, silencing her. She was getting better at controlling those too, even if the idea of doing anything with them was still well out of reach. “The spell diagram wasn’t just something pointless to memorize, it’s a… it’s a logical system that makes the magic work. It was just about seeing it in the right way. So long as I concentrate…”

The spell faded, and she went on. “Don’t get too excited, Kara. I got some pieces to a light spell, I can’t rewrite that into changing us back.”

“But they worked,” she said, voice eager. “We’re finally moving. If magic is like any other skill, it’s probably harder to start than to progress. You’ll only get faster from here.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, without any confidence in her voice. “I mean… probably. I wrote to Monday before coming back out here, so hopefully they get back to us soon. I like our odds way more than our chances of hearing back from Grandpa.”

Kara turned away, ears flattening. For the first few days, she’d tried to struggle into some of her clothes, but they’d both given up on that now. With a sewing machine they might be able to make something work, but nothing either of them owned would fit.

Kara had an old sewing machine, and a few bolts of fabric. But she spent far more time doing homework and helping with Fay than on trying to sew things with her mouth.

“I know you don’t really pay attention to how things were going with the family, bro—” She paused for a moment, as though waiting for Kyle to object. She didn’t, though, Kara was exactly right. There was no reason to be upset about the truth. “Grandpa never just says things. Mom and Dad are probably furious about what happened to me… but they can’t just keep him away forever. We need help. He’s going to find a way to make Dad give in.”

“And waste our time,” Kyle supplied. “I don’t think we learned a single useful thing from having them here. That stupid doctor wanted a milk sample. Like that would help us change back.”

Kara shook her head. “It’s stupid, but it’s not stupid for no reason. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll find something? Those doctors were weird. Maybe he hired like… government people, like from Area 51 or whatever.”

Kyle didn’t question the absurdity of that suggestion, not when she was an oversized magical horse caring for a baby of terrible power.

Someone knocked on the back door, and both of them turned. It was Mom, holding a tray of food in both arms. She didn’t hurry away this time, which was a first for her.

Fay did, retreating around the corner and poking her head out. After her encounter with the doctors, she’d been nervous whenever her parents got close. Probably that fear translated to all strangers.

Kara opened the door, poking her head outside. “Not worried we’re contagious anymore?”

“You’re not,” Mom said. “We’ve just found out… well, a few things. None of us are going to change just being near you. The alien caused this, and she’s the only one who could make it happen again.”

Like we needed Grandpa’s weird doctors to tell us that. Kyle rose, hurrying over to the table. She took the tray in her magic, levitating it into the kitchen. Mom pulled her hands back quickly, shivering. “Well that’s… Nevermind. How are you two holding up?”

“Stir crazy,” Kara answered. “And bored. Pretty much how you’d expect from being stuck in the house for a week straight. Can we at least go out into the backyard again?”

Mom sighed, taking another step back. “That won’t be an issue anymore. That new information… Well, let’s just say that the danger of staying here is too great. We’re going out to the country, all of us. The truck will be here tonight.”

Chapter 27: Packed

“You’re kidding,” Kara said, her voice far less respectful than Kyle had ever seen it. “You can’t really be suggesting that we’re moving in the middle of junior year.”

Mom only sighed, reaching over to rest a hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I know how much you care about… everything, but I think you need to look in the mirror for a second. Staying here isn’t going to help fix you, or anything else for that matter. I think it’s safe to say that praying for a miracle has failed. The only option left is to try and make our own. Your grandfather—”

“Sent assholes to do this to me in the first place!” Kara yelled, backing away from her. “This is stupid! Going over there isn’t going to do anything but give them more of a chance to poke us like we’re science experiments! The only one who can fix this is the baby, and she’s terrified of them!”

Mom retreated from the doorway, her hands up defensively. Kyle could hardly blame her—Kara was bigger than she was, and looked about as sturdy as a block of granite. Even if she didn’t have mythical powers, she could still be terribly dangerous. And for all they knew, she did have mythical powers.

“This isn’t a discussion,” she said, remarkably brave despite the clear differences between them in ability. “Kara, your father and I are just as upset about this as you are. But think about what would happen if that—creature—did something large enough for the neighbors to notice? Or if one of your instructors wants to come here and check on you. It’s only a matter of time before your absence raises suspicion. We would have to make the trip even if there wasn’t hope for a cure, and there is. A slim hope is better than anything you have in that wing.”

She spun around, vanishing into the house before Kara could keep arguing with her.

Kara scraped at the floor with one hoof, nostrils flaring. But no amount of anger was going to change just how right they were. Kyle might have no friends, and might make no impression on any of his instructors. But Kara was vital to half a dozen teams. She was so loyal she would probably still be at practice if Mom and Dad let her.

Kyle reached over, extending a wing over her shoulder. She was bigger now, all those feathers had to be good for something. She didn’t say anything—she knew better than to try and comfort Kara when she had nothing good to offer. She just stood there, until her sister gave up and slumped against her, fighting back tears.

“Aren’t you going to tell me she’s right?” Kara whispered, her voice cracking. “Of course we have to run away, right? It’s the only way or whatever?”

She shook her head. “This is worse for you than me. I’m sorry you got dragged in.”

Kara cried for a few moments more, and might’ve continued breaking down if it wasn’t for Fay. She’d apparently just noticed them there, and decided on that moment to approach.

Through means that Kyle herself still hadn’t mastered, the baby took off effortlessly, flying up to Kara and holding something towards her. The stuffed ferret, taken from the nursery they’d set up in an empty storage closet.

You understand the pain of others and you want to help. Damn you’re terrifyingly smart.

Kara only chuckled, pushing the baby away. “Th-that’s enough,” she said, stifling a laugh. “That’s nice of you, kid. But I think you need that more than me. You’re gonna hate where we’re going.”

Fay showed no sign of recognition, only giggling at the attention. She did seem relieved to take back her toy, zooming back with it into the nursery. “Guess we should pack or something,” Kara went on. “She didn’t actually say what we’re going to do about that. Move out in one day…”

“They must plan on coming back.” Kyle wasn’t sure it was true, but it made her feel better. It wasn’t like she could imagine the family wanting to move completely into Grandpa’s life again, where they’d be subject to his strange whims. It was probably just for the duration. Once they changed back, they’d come back to their lives here.

Assuming they ever could get their old lives back. Kyle’s success with one spell didn’t mean Fay’s work could be easily undone.

“I’m gonna go inside and grab some stuff,” Kara said. “They can’t honestly expect me to just wait here and get onto a truck tonight like it’s nothing. But you probably shouldn’t bring Fay back inside. After what she did to me… they’ll freak out.”

Kyle considered for a few moments. Under any ordinary circumstances, she could think of a few things she’d want to prepare for a long trip. But she didn’t wear clothes anymore, and anything she really needed would be out in the nursery or in her wing already. It didn’t even seem possible to bring the artifacts of her old life along. The laptop was the only exception, and she already had that.

“I don’t need anything. Maybe a bag I can throw the rest of the diapers in, along with some bedding for her. I already have everything I need.”

Kara nodded, slipping back out the way she’d come. Probably she would be using this as an excuse to yell at Mom and Dad a little more, maybe even try to convince them to change their minds. Kyle didn’t expect anything of it. When she returned with a suitcase an hour later, smelling like sweat and anger, Kyle wasn’t the least bit surprised.

The next message from their mysterious benefactor arrived around nightfall. This time there was no request for her to wait while they got something ready. The message followed with a document at least two dozen pages long, each one apparently scanned from an ancient-looking book.

“You’ve demonstrated that there is at least some reason to suspect your new species is capable of the same spellcasting mortals comprehend. To fully resolve that question, we will need a more comprehensive test. I’ve sent you the vocabulary of magic commonly reached by the novices in the craft, as well as those who either do not aspire or lack the talent for greater achievement. I do not give you a spell this time, but wait for you to create one of your own.

“Take the pieces I have given you, and use them to construct an artifice that accomplishes something useful. When you have successfully cast this spell, send me an image of your creation as well as an explanation of what you’ve done and why.

“I would normally wait years to trust an apprentice with this, but something tells me you will not have years. I have already heard a rumor of a long-extinct creature reappearing somewhere on the eastern seaboard of the United States. That is not terribly specific, but I also doubt any who discovered you would wish the more specific descriptions of your location to escape before they could catch you.

“One final word of advice: if it seems you’ve met someone with abilities you don’t understand, your best bet is to frighten them away. Willworkers of every school prefer prudence to extreme daring, or they would be dead by their own art already. Frighten them and flee, if you can. If this is not possible, then do not hide and wait for rescue. Anyone with the power to catch you is beyond any help I can offer.

“Monday”

It was hardly the most encouraging message Kyle could’ve received. At least we’re already moving. Assuming Monday didn’t just make up those rumors to frighten us into compliance.

But the longer she was in touch with Monday, the less suspicious Kyle felt. A light spell might be basically useless, but all these parts… As she skimmed through the document, it felt like she’d just been handed an authentic 1950s chemistry set. There were detailed explanations for each symbol and pattern, but no adult supervision while she did whatever she wanted.

A cursory inspection did not lead her to any “transformation” rune, or any approximation of it. But she wouldn’t let that weigh her down. These twenty pages alone might make for weeks of experimentation. Here were variables she could use to scale a spell’s effects. Here was a way to apply a vectored force based on energy input. Here were symbols she could use to make measurements about a substance’s composition.

This came from an introduction-level course for a science I don’t understand, she realized, when she’d printed off the textbook-like pages. Her printer did a terrible job, but there was no telling when she’d have the chance to sit down with her laptop and study where she was going.

Not that night.

She had only just finished packing her garbage away when she heard the sound of an oversized engine down the drive, and boots crunching on gravel. A glance out the front window proved it wasn’t just a moving van, but an entire semi-truck with attached trailer. It wasn’t rented either, but covered with branding and images from a local grocer.

Four men in generic blue overalls exited the cab, each one wearing gloves and winter gear that obscured their faces. They went for the proper entrance to the house. Kyle watched the front door open and the crew step inside.

She left her bag by the door, then slipped into the makeshift nursery.

Nothing as nice as what Fay had out in the old stable, though the bed itself was inside. The baby squirmed as she came in, shifting before finally sitting up in bed. She watched Kyle wearily, obviously fighting her tears. However magical she was, she still seemed to need as much sleep as any other baby. She wouldn’t be awake for long.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Kyle whispered, lifting her out of bed and wrapping her in one of the altered blankets. “We’re about to do something you’ll hate. Just be good, okay?”

She showed no sign of recognition, but at least she wasn’t fighting. She let Kyle wrap her up without objection.

By the time Kyle emerged, Kara was already up, fighting to get a pair of suitcases over to the door with her mouth. “You think it’s weird that they didn’t get a farm truck?”

She shook her head in response. “There’s a lot of holes on those. What will people think when they see us?”

Kara giggled tiredly. “I’d love to see that. Maybe I’d take some pictures… except I can’t. No hands.” She let go of the bags, looking expectant. “Come on, big brother. Could you help me with these?”

“I thought you were the older twin,” Kyle countered, her voice soft enough that she didn’t provoke the baby. It wasn’t that hard really, as long as she kept from getting too loud.

“A few minutes older, yes. But not bigger. Now come and help me.”

She did, though moving her suitcases and holding a bundle of horse-baby at the same time was a fresh strain for her concentration.

The front door banged open abruptly, fast enough that the baby jerked awake again, making a few nervous squeaks and trying to shield her eyes with her wings.

Two of them carried flashlights, the other two just wore moving gloves. “In the back,” one of them said, though his voice caught as soon as he got a good look at them. “O-oh… damn. It really is animals in here.”

“Not by choice,” Kara said, sticking her tongue out. “We’re still people, or almost.”

The man grunted in response. “Alright then, almost people. Get all the way into the back of the truck. These things yours?” he glanced down at the small pile of bags. “Horses with suitcases. I’ve seen everything.”

“Not yet you haven’t,” Kyle said, trying to soothe Fay with a gentle stroke from her hoof down one side. “Not until you piss her off too badly, and she decides to blast you like she did us. You should keep your distance.”

They did, backing away from the three of them as they made their way out the open door and into the crisp night air.

Chapter 28: Transit Crew

Kyle wasn’t sure what she would’ve expected from a grocery truck used to transport animals that shouldn’t exist. Maybe there would be a makeshift stable inside, with harnesses to contain them like dumb animals.

It seemed the opposite was true, and barely anything had been done to accommodate them for the trip. There was shiny metal on the walls and floor where shelves running down either side of the truck looked freshly removed, but otherwise it hadn’t been altered at all. A large pile of moving blankets was shoved up against the back, near where a faint curtain of warm air wafted in through the climate control. At least they wouldn’t be freezing in the back of the truck during the whole trip.

“How long is the drive?” Kyle asked, as soon as she’d made it to the end and settled onto her haunches on a blanket. There were no restraints at all in here, no seatbelts, no chairs.

The men only grunted in response. Well, one of them did. The rest only pretended not to hear, and started loading suitcases between them and the doors. These weren’t being left to slide around wildly in shipping, they’d brought straps and tie-downs and they went to work with both.

Fay babbled unhappily, waving one hoof through the air in front of her. She’d seen that gesture before—the baby didn’t like the dark.

Kyle nodded sympathetically, then concentrated on her illumination spell. She’d been up so late by now, and only used it twice—but the light seemed so simple to her now that she wondered how she hadn’t figured it out on her own already. It felt like reciting the multiplication tables she’d memorized in grade school. “How’s that?”

Fay squealed with delight, sounding wide awake now. She poked Kyle in the face with a hoof, obviously reaching for her horn. Without success, as Kyle pushed her just out of reach. She wasn’t sure what touching that organ during an active spell would even do. Maybe if I’m not careful I’ll hit Fay with too much magic and accidentally change her into a real baby.

At least then they wouldn’t be running out of diapers.

Dad appeared in the back of the truck as the moving crew were finishing up. There was no furniture, barely any boxes. Kara had been right about this—they weren’t planning on moving out. “Sorry this isn’t more comfortable,” he said, stepping over the suitcases. Both arms were full of blankets and pillows, nearly covering him completely. “It’s a long drive north, thought you might want some of these.”

Kara approached him, though of course she had no way to actually take the offered blankets. It was a moot point, because Dad didn’t let her get that close. He lowered the bundle to the floor of the truck, then took a few steps back.

“They won’t say how long the drive is,” Kara muttered, annoyed. “Do you know?”

Dad nodded. “We won’t make the whole thing at once. We’ll have to stop to let you all, uh… use the facilities. It’s about ten hours of driving if we never stop.”

Kyle brushed aside his morbid curiosity over what they would have to do with real farm animals, that couldn’t be asked to please not drink too much before and then hold it during the drive. She dismissed the question—Dad wouldn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. The answer was probably gross anyway. “Fay isn’t going to be happy about that,” she said instead. “She’s never driven before, and she hates the dark. She’s already made both of us into horses, so what does she do next?”

The thought was terrifying enough that they were both silent. Kara broke the silence, annoyed. “Just grab that big propane light.”

Alan shook his head again. “Confined space, and it might fall over while we’re driving. But there are trailer lights up there, I’ll just ask the driver to turn them on when we start. Probably just wanted to make it easier for you to sleep.”

Kyle probably would, if only because she’d stayed up so long without even a few moments to rest. But if Fay was unhappy, that alone might make the trip impossible. “Some light would be great,” Kyle said again, more subdued this time. “Just get that on for us, and we’ll focus on… preventing a disaster back here.”

“Good.” Dad backed away, looking as exhausted as Kyle felt. “We can only rely on the family for so much hospitality.” He lowered his voice, obviously just intended for them. But just because Kyle couldn’t see the movers didn’t mean they weren’t listening. “You know the family. We need their help, so we don’t have a choice about going there. But that help will come with a price.”

Kyle shivered, but didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Dad slipped past the luggage and down to street level. A few moments later and one of the movers appeared, slamming the back of the truck closed. She heard the sound of a lock clicking into place seconds later. There would be no getting out until the trip was over—unless Fay did something incredibly stupid.

“All this because you found an animal out in the woods,” Kara muttered. Her voice wasn’t exactly angry, but she wasn’t trying terribly hard to be nice either. “Too bad you didn’t go to the game with us.”

Fay probably would’ve died if nobody came for her. Either that, or maybe she’d have exploded like a supernatural atomic bomb and taken the rest of us with her.

The baby squeaked curiously, drawing her attention towards her. She squirmed and wiggled in her grip for a few seconds, fighting against the cloth Kyle had wrapped her in. But Kyle hadn’t expected the drive to be simple.

Fay rose to unsteady hooves, wobbling on the pile of blankets. Kara dragged over the others their father had brought, piling up the pillows nearby into an ineffectual wall.

The lights came on a moment later, a steady glow from the ceiling that didn’t quite approach enough to make Kyle comfortable. She hesitated for a moment, then stopped her glowing spell.

Fay reacted instantly, making a few unhappy sounds. “I guess you like the magic?” Kyle scooped her back up, trying to soothe her. “Sorry, I can’t keep that up for ten hours.”

The engine rumbled from somewhere not too far away, then they began to move. Fay tucked her head into Kyle’s chest, squealing in sudden fear and surprise. But there was nothing she could do but hold her with a wing as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the road.

“Ten years from now, when this is over and we’re grown up… there are gonna be some stories,” Kara muttered. She settled down onto the pile of blankets, covering her head with a pillow. She kept talking, voice muffled. “I thought I’d have the best blackmail ever. If you ever got too rowdy at parties or wanted to date a girl I hated, I could threaten to tell her you’d been a horse for a few weeks. Now, though… it’s not fair.”

“We did everything else together,” Kyle whispered. Most of her attention was for Fay, but so far the baby didn’t seem like she would do anything apocalyptic. Maybe she would actually make it through the trip without exploding on them. “Until freshman year. Something was going to bring us back together again.”

Even in the dim light she could see Kara’s head snap up to glare at her. “You could’ve kept this one, thanks.” She rolled to one side, apparently oblivious of how not-wearing-anything she was. “You think the creepy girl was trying to make your little bomb go off? You keep poking an alligator enough times, and it bites. That seems like something some evil scientists would want to test. What are the limits of our new mysterious weapon? How can we use it against our enemies?”

Kyle shook her head reflexively. “I don’t see what good it is to have a bomb that mostly just makes people into horses. That’s most of what she’s done. Which probably means they would’ve known that was a likely outcome. But it really could just be incompetence.”

Kara shrugged, somehow still visible despite the strange way she reclined. Probably a horse thing. “I don’t really care why they did it, I hate it. The family could help when it was just you, and I could keep living my life. Not anymore.”

The ground rumbled and shook as they twisted to one side, then down. We made it to the freeway. Just ten hours to go, but ten hours to where?

“I heard from Monday again,” Kyle said. In her arms, Fay had stopped squirming. One glance told her that she was already returning to sleep. Maybe the trip wouldn’t be as bad as she’d feared. “They gave me a chunk of a book this time, filled with all kinds of magic stuff. Before they give me any more, they want me to come up with my own spell.”

Kara jerked suddenly upright, dislodging several pillows and even making Fay twitch briefly in surprise. “You just thought you’d mention that now?”

“You were asleep! Besides, I’ve been reading it. Getting you up to give you the news would mean less time studying. You should be happy.”

Kara was silent for another moment, interrupted only by the constant rumble and roar of the highway underneath them. Kyle had never ridden in one of these before, and now she never wanted to again.

“I assume this time you got the missing pieces to change us back?”

Kyle chuckled. “Nothing even close. If I had to guess, changing people into different things must be some real expert-level stuff. Monday didn’t even think it was possible before, remember? They said it would wear off, and wanted me to wait until I started changing back.”

“Then I hope you’re ready for hard work,” Kara said, tapping one hoof loudly against the metal floor. Even if she wasn’t transparent anymore, it sounded like knocking a coke glass up against a car. “I’m guessing we won’t be doing much homeschool stuff up at our mysterious grandfather’s mysterious estate. A problem like that would just go away. That means you can focus on magic full time.”

“Sure,” she answered, settling onto her side. There was no helping how exposed she felt barely fitting in this awful truck. All she could do now was wait it out. “All the time I’m not getting probed by evil doctors or taking care of Fay, I’ll be right on it.”

Chapter 29: Grandfather

The drive was exactly as awful as Kyle had expected. They stopped only once, and when the truck opened the sun was only beginning to rise. They had a few minutes and almost no privacy to relieve themselves without a trace of dignity, then it was right back up the steps onto the truck. Fay didn’t blast them with magic and tear the truck to pieces, but she did cry almost constantly after their stop, with only a brief respite while she ate.

There was no privacy for that either, though at least having her sister living with her had given Kyle some time to mentally prepare for that to happen. It wasn’t like the process was unpleasant for her by now—the residue displeasure faded as it became more routine. The protest of her memory was always fainter than the relief of no longer feeling a pressure she couldn’t resolve, along with the general warmth that came from being in the baby’s immediate presence. She’d have called it brainwashing if she hadn’t used her laptop to browse a few “mommy blogs” when she should’ve been doing her homeschool work.

“And all this only happened because the baby didn’t want to drink regular milk?” Kara said, from atop her third fortress of pillows and blankets. Now that they were awake there was little they could do to kill the time. “Do you think Mom and Dad would’ve let you keep her if she did? I know tons of people with farm animals.”

Even if she hadn’t changed me, she never would’ve let us keep her in the stable. Even considering that physically hurt, as she imagined Fay’s terrified cries in the dark, surrounded by rusty metal and spiders. “No point thinking about what didn’t happen,” she said flatly. “I did plenty of that in school, instead of actually accomplishing anything.”

Kara shrugged. “Fair, I guess. Something else, then—have you told your magical friend about me yet?”

Kyle hit herself weakly with one hoof, wincing. “No. That’s… I probably should’ve.”

“Obviously. It isn’t like we’re bothering to keep any information from them anyway. But you and the baby have your magic, right? Maybe there’s something I can do too. For all we know, I’ve been able to change us back this whole time and just didn’t know how.”

That seemed very much like wishful thinking to Kyle, but she didn’t bother saying so. Just like arguing things that didn’t exist, trying to fight optimism with realism was another way to keep her from actually making progress. “I’ll send another message as soon as we get the internet.”

She glanced down at her phone, lifting it into the air. Flitting on the edge of exhaustion, she could barely lift it. But she only needed to touch it with her snout for the screen to come on and show her that there still wasn’t any service. “I should’ve brought it out with us on that bathroom break.”

“No point.” Kara slumped back into her pile of cushions. “Life is on hold until we fix that. Nobody to call. No friends to see, no games, no class, nothing but baby and—”

“Magic,” Kyle interrupted. “I’m not saying it’s worth-it, but… how many people do you think get to learn this stuff?”

“Not me,” Kara hummed. “Keep bragging, bro. I’m not sure I’d trade levitation for having a baby I need to feed. You go for it if you’re into that, I guess…”

Like she had a choice.

The rest of the trip went much like that, with Kara alternating between anger and disappointment at their lives left behind, Fay crying, and Kyle herself barely conscious with exhaustion.

At least they had the heater to keep the truck reasonably warm, and the blankets to rest on. Whenever she accidentally touched the bare metal of the trailer, it sucked the heat from her like a gardening tool left out in the snow.

She probably dozed, because at some point she looked up from the pillows and found Kara building a pillow fortress around a giggling Fay. She wasn’t even up long enough to express her gratitude before she faded again.

Then they stopped, and the doors banged open. Fay had given up on crying, though with the sunlight she briefly lurched for the exit—until the movers appeared in the opening. She stopped dead, staring in their direction before darting back towards Kyle. She caught her in her wings, shielding her from the strangers as they began working.

Behind them was an industrial-looking wall. Even if she’d been young the last time she saw Grandpa’s house, she remembered enough to know it wasn’t made of metal crudely painted the same green as the evergreens visible off to one side.

She wanted to investigate whatever was out there, but… some part of her didn’t want to get close to these strangers either. Instead she waited, until the last of the bags were removed and she could finally make her way to the exit without resistance.

She moved Fay to her back, and the foal didn’t fight her. After the misery of their trip, she probably just didn’t have the energy.

As Kyle neared the end of the trailer, she felt the chill of freezing air on her skin, slowing her and making her shiver. Kara didn’t even seem to notice, and she squeezed past her to peek outside. There was barely enough room for both of them to stand abreast in the truck.

She stopped at the edge of the trailer, taking her first good look around. A square structure like an old bunker rose a single story from the rocky soil of a mountainous cliff. Behind it, an oversized wind-turbine painted green and brown whistled as the wind passed unevenly through its blades. The truck parked at the end of a gravel path, though even the gravel was greenish. This place is probably invisible from the air. The truck didn’t give her a good enough view of the bunker’s low roof, but she guessed it probably matched the surrounding rock.

The only thing Kyle couldn’t see were her parents. Oh shit.

The nearest doors were open, polished steel on the inside even if they were matte on the outside. That was where their luggage had gone.

A shadowy figure appeared from the gloom there, taking shape as he emerged. Tall and thin, with white hair and the jacket of his suit under one arm.

Grandpa looked exactly the way Kyle remembered him, without so much as an extra wrinkle on his face. He didn’t actually join them in the pale arctic sunlight, but only went as far as the bunker’s exit. “It’s delightful to see the two of you again, Kyle and Kara. Welcome to the Lodge.”

Chapter 30: Gatecrash

Twilight prepared for two full days before making the first crossing herself.

It wasn’t just that the world on the other side might’ve defied the readings of her probe, though that was certainly possible.

“You’re one of the best spellcasters in Equestria, Twilight. Can’t you just go and adapt?”

Twilight crouched low over the complex mechanism she was soldering, a necklace of two interlocking pieces of gold. Less than a year ago, such a valuable piece of spellcasting hardware would have been entirely out of reach, no matter how necessary she might think it was.

But Twilight’s world was different now.

“It isn’t enough to know the spells myself. A single step into another world could bring dangers so quickly, you could never react. It might make magic more difficult, stranding you on the other side forever.”

She tapped the necklace with a hoof, grinning proudly. “This should equip its wearer and anyone she’s with for almost anything. Poison atmosphere, dangerous diseases, temperature fluctuations, hostile weather. Hostile creatures, plagues of locust…”

“Locust?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little over prepared?”

She only shook her head. “There’s no such thing. Remember how much faster than any other ponies we’re already being here. We’re exploring a parallel universe within a few days of discovering it.”

“Maybe.” Spike backed away. “At least if you’d gone a little quicker, she might not be here.” He pointed towards the open window, tensing nervously. Twilight hadn’t even looked, but she turned just in time to see a familiar carriage touching down not far from the castle.

The poor pegasus driving it collapsed right where they stood, like they’d been flying nonstop all night.

Oh buck.

Cadance wasn’t as good with casual teleportation, but even so she had very little time to prepare. She’s here. How did she know?

“Twilight!” She burst into the lab a few minutes later, banging the door open against the wall.

Cadance barely even looked recognizable anymore. Her mane was cut short, trimmed away to the length of the military buns used by female guardsponies. Her eyes were perpetually bloodshot, and the smell of crystal perfumes was missing.

At least she hadn’t dragged Shining along for a scientific expedition where he could do nothing to help.

“You’ve found the place?”

Twilight settled the heat-crystal into its holster on the table, dropping the filament. “No. A probe brought back a sample from a compatible world space. But my tracking spell can’t establish a match conclusively. The recall spell… wasn’t finely tuned from the factory. The sample was badly burned by Equestrian magic, and the probe was lost.”

Cadance’s eyes twitched, her wings half-extending. It was a familiar posture, one she’d learned after years of friendship with Rainbow. It was the stance a pegasus used who was about to lunge at something. Cadance didn’t, though her eyes were wild enough that it was hard to say she wouldn’t. “So what did the next drone say?”

“There is no next drone. Manehattan is still scaling up production. The one we lost was a test of their process, and… clearly it wasn’t precise enough.”

Cadance advanced on her. “Yet you wouldn’t leave my daughter waiting if you had thought you found her. I’m sure you were about to write me.”

Twilight remained in her seat. Cadance’s mental health was terrifying enough, but she wasn’t going to start feeling afraid of family. It wasn’t her fault she was so upset. If Twilight had a foal, she’d probably be just as hurt. “I intended to go myself and verify what the probe found. If it was right, I would’ve told you to join me at Flurry’s Vigil. If not…” She shook her head. “Look at you, Cadance. I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.”

Cadance kept glaring at her for a few moments more, puffing up her chest indignantly. But then the front dissolved, and she collapsed where she stood. “You haven’t found her.”

“Not yet.” Twilight rose from her seat, stretching a wing over Cadance’s shoulders. “I will tell you when I’m there. But I can’t imagine what it would be like to hope every time we make some slight breakthrough, only for it to be something else over and over. I’ll tell you the moment I get close. That was always my intention.”

Cadance sobbed for a few seconds, burying her face in Twilight’s wing. Her breakdown lasted only for a few moments, though. She pushed away, rising back to her full height. “You were going to go and check for yourself? How soon?”

Twilight’s cautious plans dissolved. How could she tell a mother with a face of smeared makeup and tears that she was waiting a few more days to concentrate the magic?

“Tomorrow morning, after a full night’s sleep. I can’t help Flurry if I get trapped beyond the Veil of Stars, or killed by some monster beyond time.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Cadance repeated, gritting her teeth. “Then I’ll be coming with you.”

On the surface, having another Alicorn to accompany her was beyond Twilight’s wildest dreams for mission preparation. Two of them could accomplish spells that a single one never could imagine.

But they weren’t traveling to take the Elements of Harmony and fight some unknown danger. There was an infinite expanse of worlds beyond Equestria, and no telling what waited in any of them.

All they really had to do was step across, bring a tracking spell, and learn whether they were in the right place. It might not even take ten minutes.

But Cadance hadn’t come to her position through the arcane, as Twilight had. To some extent, her ascension had been by birth, the long bloodline of the Crystal Empire resurfacing in the children of its ancient refugees.

Cadance had power, but nearly as little experience using it as Trixie had with the Alicorn Amulet. Making creatures fall in love was an incredible power, but also totally useless to their mission.

Still, she could come up with no tactful way to refuse her. Suggestions that there might be ponies better suited to the task went entirely ignored. Asking if Cadance would rather pick one of her magical experts, or even a soldier from the Crystal Guard, were similarly rejected.

Morning came, and Twilight stood at the threshold of her transport spell with nervous anticipation bubbling in her chest and spoiling her appetite.

The portal had been moved to a large enclosure behind the castle, a dome of glass held up by a thin spiderweb of crystal. A shield as powerful as the defenses around Canterlot during the changeling invasion glowed around the dome, and fences ten feet high were placed at another five hundred feet out. Twilight might have to do her experiments in Ponyville thanks to proximity, but that didn’t mean she was taking the safety of its residents casually. This was still her home.

The dome itself was relatively empty, with rings of decreasing safety marked in bright paint leading to where the portal would form in densely wrapped wire and little crystal studs.

The machines already hummed as Twilight finally stepped into the innermost ring. In addition to the necklace, Twilight wore heavy boots and a whole saddlebag of scientific equipment. She was the first pony since Clover to set hoof somewhere totally alien.

Or maybe the second, since Cadance was beside her. The other Alicorn had changed almost nothing since the day before, except that she’d borrowed a set of crystal armor from one of the pegasi who flew her here. It fit oddly, though she levitated the spear beside her through a series of skillful twists.

Did she learn that from Shining? Instead of studying more about magic, Cadance had spent the last month learning how to fight.

“Are you ready, Twilight?” she asked, smacking the butt of her spear against the cement. “I don’t want to keep Flurry waiting.”

Twilight nodded. It was a lie, but it didn’t feel like a longer delay was going to make much difference. She’d done everything she could with the time she had. Unless she developed the bravery to send Cadance away while she spun a glittering crystal spear beside her face, she should probably just get this over with.

“Spike, how do we read?” she asked, circling slowly around to face the controls.

There were half a dozen other creatures in here, though only two mattered to her. Starlight and Spike were the only ones she trusted to operate the portal when her own life was at stake, instead of a fancy bit of gold clockwork.

“Worldgate cohesion is green,” Spike said. “I think that’s what all these lights mean.”

Starlight glanced down over his shoulder. “Looks like we have safe temperature on the other side, plenty of air, and no physical obstructions within range of the portal. Ground level should be less than a hoof, so expect a drop.”

Twilight reached down, twisting her necklace until the little carved clock icon glowed in the selection window. “I’m preparing for a ten-minute trip. If we aren’t back by then, use a recall spell. But don’t send a recovery team. Anything that could kill two Alicorns might…”

Starlight raised a hoof to silence her. She understood the danger, even if Cadance obviously didn’t. “I understand, Twilight. We’ll keep Equestria safe.”

“I’m coming for you, Flurry,” Cadance whispered, mostly to herself. “Just a little longer.”

Twilight felt the spell take her a second later, and her stomach dropped abruptly out of her chest. It was a little like the Mirror Portal, without any of the careful engineering to transform the one stepping through. Twilight squinted her eyes shut, and tumbled blindly through the void.

Chapter 31: The Lodge

Edgar loomed over Kyle. For a few seconds she was struck by just how tall he was. Of course Dad was about the same height, but he never felt half as intimidating. Edgar, though…

She recognized him perfectly, but even so there was something strange and out of place about seeing him so close. He was supposed to exist in angry letters and half-heard phone calls, not the real world.

“You’re not terrified of us?” Kara asked, sliding past Kyle without slowing for a second. She spoke with her same cheerfulness, though Kyle couldn’t imagine what there was to be excited about. What about everything you left behind? Did you stop being upset? “We’re crazy animals that sound like your family. That should be weird.”

Edgar chuckled amicably, though he didn’t actually come closer to them. He remained safely in the shadow of the bunker. “It is every bit as weird as you suggest it should be,” Edgar agreed. “And more I haven’t yet. But that’s partly the benefit of coming here, Kara. You’re here to take advantage of the expertise of others, just as I often do.”

You didn’t even blink. His moving people had barely slowed down either. They all seemed to know there was something supernatural going on, except Kyle and Kara themselves. “Have you seen magic before, Grandpa?”

Edgar’s smile widened. “Why don’t you come inside? My people will worry about unloading your possessions. I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying while you’re my guests.”

Fay hadn’t started screaming, anyway. She hadn’t reacted with the same kind of fury she’d shown their doctors, either. Maybe she was just tired from the trip, and happy to be out of such a confined space.

Or if I’m trusting her to gage the people I’m around, maybe she doesn’t think Grandpa is so bad. He was family. Maybe being sinister was just something that happened once you made too much money.

Edgar stepped aside, showing a ramp leading down. It seemed like a recent conversion, because it was steep enough that anyone in a wheelchair would probably only get one attempt.

Kara was the first through the doorway. “Mom and Dad are already down there?”

“They’ll meet up with you later,” Edgar said noncommittally. “You both have been with that creature long enough to know how dangerous she is. My son and his wife are undergoing a brief quarantine. They’ll join you as soon as I can be certain that they won’t hurt any members of my staff by exposure.”

Kyle hesitated near the doorway, glancing down the mountain. She felt a brief, overwhelming urge to turn and gallop away as fast as she could. It didn’t matter that there was barbed wire and probably lots of other dangers she couldn’t even see yet. Could the unknown be worse than the danger right in front of her?

She didn’t run, though. Even if she could survive out in the woods by herself, she couldn’t do that and care for a baby at the same time. More importantly, she couldn’t leave Kara behind.

It’s probably just animal instinct. Horses would rather run than be inside.

She followed Kara, and heard the grinding of metal as Edgar settled the heavy blast door shut behind them. It locked into place with a resounding click, and he followed at an energetic trot.

For all the intervening years, Grandpa could keep up with them easily, and didn’t seem winded by the bottom of the ramp. He did have a cane—polished white, with a metal handle always concealed in one hand. But he didn’t lean on it so much as gesticulate with it when he spoke.

“I’ve done everything I could to make this comfortable, spared no expense. Finding somewhere far enough from other people to keep everyone else safe while we’re trying to help you… that was tricky.”

The little entrance ramp led them through several rooms of old equipment, all in various stages of decay and covered with plastic.

Then they reached a vast open space, so high that every hoofstep echoed. Their hooves settled on plastic grass, passible enough that she made it a few strides before even realizing it was fake.

Soon enough they reached a plastic barricade, easily ten feet tall and thick enough to stop a determined hockey player. It opened automatically as Edgar got close. “The living area is past here. Not that I have any doubt about the two of you now, but I wasn’t sure what to expect when I first heard about this.

“Don’t worry though, the accommodations will be comfortable. As spacious as we could manage, while still maintaining a way to conceal you from the world at large.”

You know there are others looking for us. You might be one of the people Monday was warning me about.

The other side of the barrier had an apartment of sorts, easily twice the size of the wing they’d left behind. There were bedrooms, a common living area with various entertainment devices, and a huge open area with more fake grass.

It would’ve been fantastic housing, except for a single central flaw: it was all completely open. Aside from a bathroom door, the actual walls were made of clear plastic, letting Kyle see from one side to the other at a glance.

At least I can piss in peace.

“Well this doesn’t scream ‘demented mad scientist’ at all.” Kara took a few steps past the plastic barricade. Maybe she was trying to process the same bizarre mismatch of different worlds that confused Kyle so much.

The kitchen was lavishly furnished, right down to one of those fancy new soda machines that assembled thousands of possible flavors. There was a little theater off to another side, with cloudy plastic that cast the section in shadow. There was a table-tennis section, a gaming setup that made Kyle’s mouth water even from afar.

You just asked a dozen people what kids like and bought all of it, didn’t you?

“I know it’s a little frightening. Those clear upper panels can be swapped with opaque ones, once we’ve determined the extent of… well, that’s not my field.” He walked right through into the large exercise area, tapping his knuckles against one of the walls. “As soon as we know the two of you are safe, we can begin rotating some of this out. There’s only so many readings and observations we can take before the hard work of curing this must take place on our end, instead of yours.

“But please, be patient with the discomfort for a little while.”

He said it so politely, so friendly. But would that smile crack if Kyle tried to refuse?

She might not remember much about dealing with the family, but one thing still remained prominent. So long as we don’t step out of line, so long as we cooperate, he’ll give us everything we ask for. As soon as he feels like we’re disloyal, we’re screwed.

“It’s creepy as—”

Kyle shoved Kara, hard enough to interrupt her. “It’s going to be uncomfortable to be on display like this. But if you think it’s going to be useful for finding a cure. I just don’t understand how anyone could cure this. We’ve been transformed. There’s no drug to cure being a horse. I’ve heard about gene therapies to cure lactose intolerance, but this has got to be way harder.”

She glanced briefly back over her shoulder, but there was little to see from Fay. The foal had her eyes closed, and seemed to be sleeping.

Kara shoved her back, glaring daggers. But she didn’t actually interrupt. So you’re still you down there. You’re not about to shut up and just let it all happen.

“You’re absolutely right,” Grandpa said. “There’s no medication I could arrange for you to fix this. There is no instrument of conventional medical science that could restore you. But that shouldn’t be terribly worrying—there is much that medicine cannot do. Modern medicine did not change you, so it will not be required to restore you.”

He retreated a few steps, gesturing back across the glass. “The team I’ve arranged for this task will not be in the same bunker, but in a facility just down the hill. Exposure is a terrible risk, as both of you learned firsthand. But they will make periodic trips, and consult with you virtually whenever they have something useful to contribute.”

Kyle’s tongue burned with curiosity. She probably would’ve kept her mouth shut anyway, letting Grandpa believe they were just blindly grateful for the rescue and ask another time. You think this is dangerous, but you came yourself to welcome us here. Some part of you has to care.

“You’re talking about magic, aren’t you? That’s what changed us. You must have some… magic people working for you.”

She thought about repeating some of the new words she’d learned from Monday’s messages. What was it they called themselves, Willworkers? But she stopped at the last moment. At least until Grandpa had given them more reason to trust him, she would keep quiet about that.

“I can’t think of anything else to call it,” she went on, nodding towards the one on her back. “Transforming me like this. The way I can move things with my mind. I know the word probably sounds stupid…”

Edgar leaned on his cane, looking thoughtful. “I’m not one to balk at semantics, child. The word is… effective enough at describing what you’ve seen. And yes, you’re right to suspect the powers that creature manifests reach beyond the physical. They are supernal, with power of a magnitude so great that few could appreciate it rationally.

“I wouldn’t have believed it myself, a decade ago. Look at the long history of mankind, and you’ll see pretenders to the unknown or the divine just as long. The ‘magic’ is always one donation away. Just a little more faith, and anything is possible.”

He laughed, then marched right back past them, into the kitchen. He began opening drawers with the cane, one at a time. The space was well stocked, with a fridge full of produce as well as shelves with plenty of junk food.

“Then events led me to change my perspective. The specifics don’t matter to you right now. Let’s just say that supernatural abilities don’t mitigate physical needs. I have certain friendships, and resources at my disposal. I make those available to those who appreciate my patronage, and in return they grant me the use of their services.

“Now the talents of many turn towards helping you. Magic is a crude word, but it’s enough for today. Why don’t you let me show you the rest?”

“Do you think we can do magic too?” Kara asked, as soon as Edgar had finished taking them through the bedrooms. There was no attempt to separate Kyle from the baby either, but a crib placed right beside one of the beds.

It would’ve been perfect, if they weren’t locked underground under bright lights and who knew how many hidden cameras.

“I suspect so,” Edgar said. “My first examination of your brother was not detailed enough to confirm. But the next ones you meet will be more than just doctors. I should give you a chance to settle in. Your belongings should be here in a few minutes. Expect a call from your parents later this evening.”

He backed away, through the plastic divider. It slid automatically back down into place behind him, vanishing back up the ramp they’d taken down here.

Could be worse. At least he didn’t put us in a stable.

Chapter 32: Missed Call

Twilight landed with an explosion of light and sound. She was barely even conscious of the drop through the air, to land roughly on ground charred by the magic of their passing. Her ears rang and bright white splotches were all she could see. Even so she clutched at her necklace with one hoof, desperate for the touch of something familiar.

Yes, the power of her spells was still here. Just as a world close enough for Flurry to survive would probably have life that was similar to theirs, it would also need the rules of magic to be similar.

The terrifying possibility that she would find herself without her magic and lose her soul faded, and she slowly caught her breath.

This is why we’re sending probes. Ponies shouldn’t be taking risks like this. We aren’t helping Flurry if dozens of creatures have to die to bring her back.

As the world came back into focus, Twilight could see the damage from the probe’s trip. A sphere had been charred through dense foliage, about ten feet in all directions. The search spell tried to find open ground, but apparently the trailing branches of the willow-like trees weren’t thick enough to register.

The ground was black, but at least there weren’t any disfigured skeletons, or tiny civilizations crushed under their hooves. With an infinite number of worlds, there was an infinite number of ways Twilight could do harm.

Cadance had dropped her spear in transit, but she levitated it up now, leaning against the metal shaft rather than threatening with it. “You didn’t say the trip would be so… difficult.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “We crossed out of one universe and into another one. I didn’t think I had to explain.”

Twilight walked slowly towards the edge of their bubble, charred dirt warm under hooves. She kept her breathing slow, though the cold of her necklace against her coat suggested none of its defensive spells were in effect.

So either she was right about there being no poisons on this side, or her magic just wasn’t sensitive enough to detect the danger.

Humid air pressed her coat against her skin, and made each breath come heavily. Still, the sky was bright blue overhead, and the dense forest around them seemed like it might’ve fit in perfectly in the White Tail Woods without any difficulty.

Maybe this is the White Tail Woods, in a world where no ponies cleared it to build Ponyville. Twilight levitated her saddlebags to the ground in front of her, removing a heavy wooden box. As she flicked it open, half a dozen little trays opened with it, each one holding a different tool or pile of prepared raw ingredients.

Twilight took a set of tweezers, and carefully plucked a single leaf from beyond the reach of her burned bubble. She was careful never to contaminate it with Equestrian magic, or else spoil her readings with a false positive. There was no reason to get their hopes up for nothing.

“How close is Flurry?” Cadance asked, suddenly inches from Twilight’s face. She jerked, dropping her sample to the ground and contaminating her sterile tweezers.

She groaned, then unwrapped a fresh pair. “We don’t even know if this is the correct universe, Cadance. How about you, uh… protect me, while I do the examination. It will take a few minutes of concentration to get it right.”

Cadance snapped to attention, though her form wasn’t half as good as an actual guard. “You got it, Twilight! I’ll guard you while you lead us to my daughter.”

That isn’t what we’re doing. She didn’t bother correcting her, just went to work on the new sample. She ground away at a leaf, extracting its essence and dissolving it in a thin tube and dropping a little crystal shard inside.

I probably should’ve planned on this mission taking thirty seconds. We should’ve just taken samples back to my lab like the probes do.

“Stop right there!” Cadance shouted, her voice echoing through the trees. “I see you! Come out, or we’ll defend ourselves!”

It doesn’t really seem like self-defense if we’re the ones threatening other creatures.

Twilight looked up from the sample, following Cadance’s gaze to where something was moving in the trees. At least the crystal princess hadn’t gone insane with paranoia, yet.

Something with light blue feathers and skin, watching from above.

Then it landed abruptly, touching down on the edge of their protected bubble.

It didn’t remotely resemble a pony, or anything close to one. The general shape was vertical like a minotaur, though it was completely furless. It had wings instead of forelegs, and birdlike claws like a griffon. Its eyes were smaller though, and it didn’t have a beak.

Those claws might be dangerous, but not much more than a griffon or hippogriff.

The feathers around its head suggested hair, and its bare chest made her guess it might be female, though it was hard to say.

Then it spoke, and somehow Twilight could understand what it said. “Outworlders. Why do you flock so low? Are you seeking a debt to be paid, or… collectors?”

She fumbled with her mouth in a little sack of something that looked terrifyingly like leather, then drew out a few metal disks. Not bits, but the same gold composing them. “No debt of mine.”

“We’re looking for my daughter,” Cadance called, before Twilight could even form words. No friendly greeting, no explanation of where they’d come from or telling that they were just peaceful explorers.

But Cadance probably isn’t peaceful. If she thinks this bird-thing will stop us from getting Flurry back, she’ll be violent.

“She looks like me, but smaller. Wings, horn, four hooves. Have you seen her?”

“Probably not, Cadance,” Twilight whispered. “We’re a thousand miles away from where she crossed.”

“Outworlders can talk! Good, good. Not sure what anyone would do with livestock on four legs. Better that you’re visitors, and not animals.”

The glow around Cadance’s spear grew brighter. She didn’t swing it at this bird, or point it in her direction. Instead she ground the shaft into the dirt, hard enough that the metal squeaked in protest.

“Answer my question. Have you seen another like us?”

Twilight glanced back to her test. It was nearly finished now, the water boiled away to a paste left in the tube. It shifted through a myriad of different colors as the crystal tried to match.

“This one never has. Walking on the ground, talking, wearing strange clothes of metal. No. Never seen you.”

This time Twilight was ready, cutting Cadance off before she could ask something else the stranger wouldn’t know how to answer. “You called us ‘Outworlders’. Do travelers come to your world often?”

The bird might have a furless face, but Twilight had more experience than most with that. She knew excitement when she saw it. “Not enough, not enough!” She spread her wings as she spoke, lifting a foot or so before landing closer to them. “Just stories of travelers from far away, so far no one could ever fly there. Stories of wonderful things you bring to trade. This one would like to trade.”

She bent down, picking up the metal disk with her claw and tossing it to the ground in front of Twilight. “What do you have worth gold? Something good? Something to tell stories about?”

“We aren’t here to trade,” Cadance declared, kicking the coin back towards their visitor. It slid along the ground, bumping into her claw. “We want to find the creature like me. One of us got lost here, a baby. If you tell us, we’ll reward you with far more than gold. If you don’t, we’ll be very upset.”

The tube finally stopped glowing, its contents returning to dirty brown. This isn’t the place.

“Creature like you? Yes, uh… right! I remember creature like you, now that you ask. This one knows. Far away! Long flight! You should… give this one something to trade. She can lead you! Outworlders share stories along the way!”

Twilight rested a wing on Cadance’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. “She’s lying, Cadance. My spell is finished, this is the wrong world.” Even as she said it, she could see little sign of comprehension from Cadance. She could hear just fine, but she didn’t want to hear.

“We need to prepare an expedition,” she said. “This creature knows where to go. Or… even better. We can bring her back with us, then travel to Flurry’s Vigil in Equestria and return to this world. She’ll be close to where she arrived, right?”

She gestured with the spear, no longer using the pointy end. “You would do that, right bird? Come with us, then lead us when we cross back into your world?”

The alien spread her wings in alarm, backing out of reach. “With? No, no! Never go with Outworlders! All the stories… never.” She tossed her coin back up into her bag, buttoning it shut. “You trade treasures, I lead you to the one you lost! No crossing or magic for this one!”

Twilight snapped her box shut, settling her saddlebags in place. The recall spell should bring both of them, but she wanted to be close to Cadance just in case. “Thank you for being so friendly with us,” she said, resting one leg on Cadance’s shoulder. That should be all the contact her magic would require.

The ten minutes weren’t up, but she didn’t need them to be. Twilight pressed down on the center of the necklace’s little recall disk, and magic exploded around them.

Their visitor took to the air in a flurry of feathers, swearing and shouting in fear. Twilight covered her eyes, but she was still blinded and deafened in the crossing.

She recovered in seconds this time, as they were dumped back onto the familiar floor of her lab.

So did Cadance, whirling furiously on her. “You took us away from Flurry!” Her eyes flashed, but her spear was gone. She scanned the room in surprise, but her eyes never found it. Apparently the spell had missed something.

At least we weren’t crushed into a bloody pulp like that drone was. “Princess, that was the wrong world.” She ignored Cadance’s anger, ignored the technicians rushing to tend to the portal machinery. They would have dozens of questions, but all that could wait.

She opened up her equipment, levitating the tube closer to Cadance. “This would be pink if we had the right place. Look, Princess Cadance. It’s not.”

Cadance’s anger evaporated in an instant. She snatched the vial, holding it up to the light. But no amount of examination would turn it from brown to pink. “She said—”

“She told us she hadn’t seen another pony,” Twilight interrupted. “Then you told her we were going to bribe her, and she told you what she thought you wanted to hear. I’d be furious, but… considering we could’ve found a dozen evil Alicorns waiting to kill us, I’ll take an opportunistic bird.”

She levitated the heavy box of equipment over to a laboratory table, then looked to Spike. “Make a note. Exploratory incursion 001 was a failure. Mark the portal configuration as inhabited and likely safe. Everypony else, we’ll return to normal operations as soon as we get our next probe.”

Cadance remained entirely still as the technicians and lab assistants went to work cleaning things up. She ignored them as they took each piece of armor from her to sterilize, or when they sprayed her with foam to kill anything they’d brought along by accident.

“Mommy’s coming,” she whispered. “Mommy’s coming.”

Author's Notes:

So a reader decided to get a piece done of the alien depicted in this chapter. I thought it was cool enough that everyone should be able to Check it out!

Chapter 33: Furloughed

Kyle was silent and still as Edgar left, still feeling the invisible weight of his presence remaining in the room with them. She kept still, fearing that any second might bring him back to hear everything they might say.

He still might be listening. There are probably cameras everywhere. But even if he did plan on watching them eventually, there had to be something they could do to talk privately. Kyle did remember a few symbols for sound in her instructions.

But that would have to wait until she got her book back, or the laptop. Oh god is Grandpa going to go through our stuff? Why would he care what we brought?

She started hyperventilating, rapidly exploring a nightmare in her head where Edgar found everything she’d learned, destroyed her magical notes, then tracked down Monday and shot them for good measure.

Fay squeaked from over her shoulder, nudging her nervously. A polite reminder that she wasn’t asleep after all? You were just waiting for Grandpa to leave, weren’t you?

Kara was apparently thinking along the same lines, because she settled onto her haunches directly beside Kyle, lowering her voice to a whisper. Maybe that meant they wouldn’t be overheard, or maybe it would just make for a little more work with a parabolic microphone.

“What do you think, bro? Is all this here because he cares about us, or is he just hoping we’ll keep quiet and not fight while he gets… is there anything to gain by helping us?”

Kyle nodded weakly in response, lifting Fay off her shoulders and onto the fake grass between them. Now that Edgar was gone, she roused quickly, spinning to take in her new environment. The low separating walls between each section were tall enough that she probably couldn’t see much between them. And even if she did, what did privacy even mean to a baby?

“This is weird. You only watch someone because you’re afraid of what they’ll do. But I guess if he thought we were going to be barely above animals it might make sense. Dangerous aliens living down here might hurt themselves, or might fight to escape.”

Kara groaned, resting her head briefly on Kyle’s shoulder. It was the closest thing to a hug they could easily manage anymore. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, do we? We were going to end up somewhere like this sooner or later. Either one of our neighbors called CPS because we went missing, or…”

“Grandpa has always cared about the family.” Some of that was genuine belief—some was more because she thought they were being listened to. Let him overhear this. “Mom and Dad didn’t want to do what he asked. But if living down here is what it takes to find a cure, I’ll take it.”

Kara rose suddenly, following Fay as she wandered towards their accommodations. The baby stopped every dozen steps or so to look up, where a vaulted ceiling that might’ve once held rocket-launching apparatus was blocked off by a sturdy metal net. The lights were all mounted in front of it, making it impossible to see unless you really focused.

I’m going to have to stop her from flying into that, aren’t I?

“If we’re stuck here, then we might as well make the best of it,” Kara said. “I’m gonna grab a soda while we wait for our stuff to get down here. Want one?”

“Sure, yeah. You know what I want.”

She could watch Kara experimenting in the kitchen while she wandered over to the movie room with Fay, prodding at the controls. Nothing too exciting, but at least there was a Netflix subscription down here.

That means there’s internet too. We can talk to Monday. She could even get another download of the guide to magic from her email client, assuming she could find a way to access it without being seen.

The foal seemed more interested in climbing over the seats and trying to balance on the low wall between them. “I wonder if you’re old enough to even care about movies. Maybe I could buy a little more time to practice while you’re watching stuff.”

Fay answered with her usual babbling giggles, apparently oblivious to any problems with their new situation. But how long until you feel trapped down here, and want to go outside? It was hard to say how much of her desire to get out came from her being a horse, and how much was just a baby sick of being in the same few small rooms. Maybe these new quarters were big enough to stop her from getting bored.

Despite their fears, Mom and Dad did call several hours later, using the “gaming” setup Edgar had put in their cell’s version of a home office.

They appeared inside a little beige room, like something Kyle would’ve expected from a modest hotel. Without any windows, but… at least there weren’t any security guards near them, or paper hospital gowns.

“We’ll visit as soon as we can,” Dad promised, after a few minutes of pretty standard exchanges of sympathy. “Grandpa didn’t say anything about a quarantine. But we’re not far away—just down the hill.”

“How is it?” Mom asked, leaning in to look at her screen. “It seems, uh… I must not be seeing this right. Are you in a plastic box?”

“Basically,” Kara answered, rapping one of her hooves against the plastic dividers. They were as sturdy as the fence keeping them inside. Basically impenetrable. “It’s a very comfortable box. Plenty to keep us busy. But you can see through the whole thing.”

“Grandpa says he’ll swap the walls out soon,” Kyle added, though she didn’t sound particularly confident. Now that they were down here, she couldn’t be sure whether Edgar would do anything they wanted. She would have to wait until she saw whatever potential cures he brought to make a judgement.

“I’ll talk to him,” Dad promised. “You two just stay strong in the meantime. Your grandfather isn’t always the easiest person to like, but he has our family’s interest at heart. He always has.”

The call ended there, a little too abruptly to feel natural. Kara glanced up from the oversized chair, staring up at the ceiling of nets and lights. “Do you wish that Mom and Dad would’ve asked us before they decided to call Grandpa, bro?”

Kyle nodded weakly. “I dunno if there’s anything else we could’ve done. They were right, someone was going to miss us eventually. I dunno, maybe if we’d just waited, we would’ve been found by the right people? Maybe we’d be on talk shows and the whole country would be talking about us. All the… new developments for science.”

But you know that wouldn’t happen. Magic exists, and people already know about it. If they wanted to share it with the rest of the world, they would have. They would’ve stopped you.

Kara rolled out of the chair, shaking out her mane. “Maybe Grandpa will use some of the money he used to buy all this silly stuff and get someone to make us some clothes? You think we could ask for that?”

Kyle shrugged. Not being around other people had a way of pushing that to the background. Maybe it was the pressure of fur against her skin, making it feel almost like she was dressed? “You think you’d want to fight to get it on every day without any hands?”

Kara stuck her tongue out. “Yeah yeah bro, you just keep bragging. See if you’re the one who feels a little silly when magic powers get you under the microscope for days at a time.”

Their suitcases arrived not long after, carried by a few large men wearing masks. They arrived at the plastic barricade without introduction, opened it with a keycard, and deposited their belongings on the grass.

“Wait, I wanna talk to you!” Kyle darted towards them from the living room, but she was much too slow. By the time she reached the exit, they’d already vanished up the ramp, leaving a pile of suitcases abandoned in the fake grass.

Kyle levitated them both into the living room. As she left the outdoor section, the lights all faded, almost creating an illusion of a proper wall there.

Or more likely, they just want an uninterrupted view for anyone watching. The bedroom had switches to do something similar, though they had to press them rather than rely on any motion system.

But if it was dark enough for Fay to sleep, that would be good enough.

“How much do you think they took?” Kara asked, taking a zipper with her mouth and opening her bag. Then she froze, confused.

Kara had packed an absurd assortment of things—textbooks and school supplies, along with at least one change of human clothes she couldn’t wear. Blankets and a few stuffed toys. But it was all folded. “Check yours.”

Kyle did, though she didn’t touch the zipper with her mouth. “Did they take anything?”

“No,” Kara said, voice disbelieving. “It’s all how I left it.”

Kyle flipped her own bag open. She hadn’t packed it all in neatly, and the contents had obviously moved in shipping. The laptop bag was the only thing that really mattered though, and she levitated that out carefully. She checked the folio pocket first, and the thick printout was still there. She rifled through it, then put it back. She checked the computer next, and it booted to her usual password screen without any issues.

Kara lowered her voice, speaking right up against Kyle’s ear. Close enough that her hot breath was up against her skin. Except now that she thought about it, Kara wasn’t warm. Her touch was gentle and alive, but no warmer than anything else in the room.

“You really think Grandpa didn’t mess with our stuff?”

Kyle considered her answer carefully. All around them were dark rooms, with spotlights shining on them in the gloom. They probably had Truman Show cameras and microphones monitoring everything they did. “Maybe he was testing it for contamination?” she suggested.

Kara wrinkled her nose in frustration, and Kyle knew why. It didn’t make sense to check something for magical contamination that would just go right back into the contaminated area minutes later.

Maybe he just didn’t get around to it? Despite appearances, maybe Edgar did have their best interests at heart. He could’ve thrown them into a dark stable and never looked back, but instead he’d obviously spent an enormous fortune building somewhere that was only useful for them.

Kara reached down, taking the pamphlet in her mouth and thrusting it towards Kyle. “Same as back home, bro. This is your full-time job now. I’ll help with the baby so you can focus on fixing us.”

I’m still going to spend time with Fay. Having some help was nice, but she wasn’t comfortable just handing her off to someone else to deal with.

She lay awake in bed for hours that night, with her laptop on a proper desk and her guide to match clutched in her hooves like a toy.

Edgar’s “Lodge” was strange and uncomfortable, to be sure. But he was family. Maybe this was just the best way he knew to change them back.

Chapter 34: Tuesday

Nothing terrible happened that night, and Kyle woke to Fay’s cries for attention at what she assumed were normal morning hours. Considering she’d spent her last night asleep on a blanket in the back of a semi-truck, it was practically incomprehensible luxury.

Followed by incredible embarrassment, as she took care of Fay’s breakfast. Kara could obviously see through the plastic walls, but she had seen enough times by now that she’d given up caring.

Less so about who knew how many scientists and strangers who might be watching her through cameras all around the house. She covered herself with a blanket while she did it, feeling incredibly stupid every second. It wasn’t like she’d be less naked when she was finished.

Normally she’d have spent that first half hour relaxing, maybe reading something online or watching videos. But instead she spent every moment perched on the edge of the bed, wings splayed and ready to defend herself.

There were no attacks. If there was even anyone watching, they made no show of their presence either. She finished, passed Fay off to Kara for a bit to take her turn in the facilities, and took care of breakfast without incident.

Kara managed not to burn their eggs that morning. The bacon was a different story—despite her insistence it was fine, Kyle couldn’t get anywhere near it without her stomach doing somersaults.

“You have it,” she insisted, getting up. “I’m gonna take Fay on a walk around our prison.”

“Our badass prison,” Kara corrected, forcing a smile. “We deserve to have some fun.

Kyle rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue.

And Fay didn’t seem to mind their new quarters. The outdoor section might not be quite as large as their backyard had been, or with as much to explore. But for the moment it was new, and that was enough for her. She ran up and down along the plastic wall, spreading her wings and jumping energetically.

She didn’t fly though, thankfully. Kyle had to stay close enough, ready to catch her before she could get tangled in a steel net.

That meant she was already out near the ramp when she heard footsteps coming down. Well, a few steps and the wooden click of a cane, echoing in purposeful, regular rhythm.

Still just Edgar though. He didn’t bring his angry security guards when he came to visit. He didn’t even seem surprised when he rounded the corner and found Kyle already waiting by the wall. He grinned politely, walking right up to the barrier and letting himself in.

By the time he had, Kara came darting out of the room, still smelling a little like undercooked bacon.

“Kyle, Kara, glad to see you’re both getting along. I’m hoping your first night here treated you well.”

Fay settled under Kyle’s hindlegs, her touch so light that she’d hardly realized she was hiding there. Kyle spread her wings a little, subconsciously hiding her as best she could.

Not that it would be very effective. A foal was still large compared to a person, and Edgar wasn’t blind. Or… infirm in any way she could see, for that matter. His hair was white, his face was wrinkled, but that could’ve been a mask for how much it affected him.

“I hate the see-through walls,” Kara said, without preamble. “I can’t even sleep without waking up every time Kyle gets up to pee or whatever. And I don’t want to hide in the toilet if I want privacy.”

Edgar nodded knowingly, without any apparent anger. “I know exactly how you feel, Kara. One of my reasons for coming down here was to let you know that I’d ordered replacement panels. We’re some distance away from the rest of civilization, and it will be the limited run of a factory that I’m familiar with. But I’ve been assured they’ll put a rush on the project immediately.”

“Good.” Kara settled back on her haunches, relaxing at once. “That’s, uh… I thought that would be harder, to be honest. Why’d you put up clear dividers if you were willing to switch them?”

“I suppose I could’ve been clearer yesterday.” He turned away, walking past them towards the house. “The instant I learned about Kyle’s transformation, I began making calls to my contacts in the relevant fields. I was told by someone familiar with the subject that a transformation like yours should have worn off within the week. When it did not, that made your prognosis… bleak.”

Kyle nodded slowly. She opened her mouth to confirm she’d heard all the same things—then stopped short just in time. It probably wasn’t the best idea to share Monday’s details with Edgar just yet. Maybe it was safe, and they were just another colleague that Edgar could consult for help changing them back. Or maybe they were a rival, and Edgar’s other contacts would do whatever they could to eliminate them.

Edgar met her eyes, gesturing expectantly with the walking stick. “You’re thinking something, Kyle? What is it you want to share?” There was something in those eyes—nothing inhuman, but… did he know? Maybe he had looked into her belongings.

“I thought maybe I was going to go insane, or lose myself in this body,” she said lamely. “Animals aren’t people. I know that… that’s a stupid thing to say, but… how can I still be a person if my brain isn’t a person’s brain?”

You’re really bad at this. Her ears flattened in embarrassment at the shallow attempt at misdirection. But either Edgar didn’t notice, or he just politely ignored it. “A warranted fear. Strange as it may be to think about, there are… communities of those with abilities we don’t typically understand. Their laws explicitly forbid transforming another human being. Before what happened to Kara, we couldn’t be sure the animal you found was responsible. Obviously that isn’t in doubt anymore.”

He glanced briefly down, towards where Fay was hiding. He didn’t try to prompt her out, only gestured back towards the quarters. “There’s someone here to meet with you both. I hope this particular encounter goes better than the last time I sent someone. Don’t worry, there won’t be any doctors or embarrassing questions this time.”

Kyle hesitated, long enough to scoop Fay up onto her back. The foal squirmed a little at first, but didn’t fight her long. At least she wasn’t breaking down into hysterics the way she had with his doctors.

“Didn’t you get enough samples the last time you came?” Kara asked harshly. She caught up in a few strides, following right behind Edgar.

I guess it makes sense you’d blame him for this. You were just an observer until those scientists came.

“No samples this time.” Edgar was taking them to one of the sections of their enclosure that hadn’t made sense the day before—a plain room about twenty feet across, with a smooth metal wall on one side and nothing else in it but a few chairs. It had seemed unfinished before, but this time Edgar went directly for the wall.

He tapped it twice with his cane, and distant motors began to whir. “This is how most of my people will communicate with you,” he said. A section of the wall began to lift. Not a wall at all, but a blast door. There was another plexiglass shield on the other side, covered with a fine spiderweb of scratches.

Not scratches. Right up close, Kyle could see those little marks were each numbers, a single gigantic equation in the language of magic.

As she stood close, the glass seemed unusually solid, like it was pushing back against her forehead.

Fay squeaked and whined in protest, sliding away from it.

Kyle lifted her down onto a cushion against the far wall, where she fell still at least for a moment.

She joined the other two by the glass, just as lights came on from the other side.

The room was about the same size, though it looked very different from her enclosure. The other side seemed to connect to a well-appointed library, or maybe a workshop. Shelves of ancient books lined the walls, but near the dividing glass there were tables with more modern tools. A soldering iron rested beside an oversized oscilloscope and several different parts bins.

A server rack hummed against the far wall, radiating a gently pulsating white light. The kind of place she probably would love to explore for hours, if she wasn’t separated by glass.

“I’d like you to meet one of my employees,” Edgar continued, as soon as the motors had fallen silent. “She’s a recent acquisition, but the only one I view with any hope at all of helping either of you. Call her Akiko.”

She was so small that Kyle hadn’t even noticed her at first, tucked behind an oversized computer chair.

At Edgar’s gesture she hurried forward, lowering herself in a brief, polite bow. Her eyes locked on Kyle, settling on her wings and horn.

If this was a Willworker in person, Kyle wasn’t particularly impressed. A short young woman of Asian descent, with a single streak of purple running through her hair. She spoke with a light accent, in a voice timid enough to barely make it through the wall.

Kyle blinked, ears perking to try and hear a word she was saying. Edgar gestured again, and this time her words came through over an intercom.

“Kyle and Kara Harrington,” she said. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Chapter 35: Painful Experiment

Kyle was frozen for at least a minute, staring through the window. She should probably have adjusted by now to the people around her grandfather not reacting to the strangeness of her appearance. She wasn’t, though.

“Pleased to meet you too,” Kara said, speaking before she could. “Or, see you through a wall. We haven’t got to talk to a lot of different people lately, you can guess. It’s cool to talk to somebody else.”

Is it that hard to be around me, Kara?

Akiko chuckled politely, though her own interest was clearly focused on the both of them. Mostly on Kyle, actually, or maybe the one she carried on her back. It was hard to tell for sure. “Believe me, I can sympathize,” Akiko said. “Knowing arcane secrets is dark sometimes. The weight of incredible things crushes you down, as you consider how many people your knowledge could help. But you don’t realize the pain you would cause by inflicting that on others. You aren’t in a viewpoint to comprehend the collateral damage, so all you can do is accept the wisdom of those above you.”

Edgar tapped his heavy cane to the ground once, causing Akiko to twitch with sudden urgency. “Right, right! Can’t get distracted. We have a purpose here, and exposure must be limited to avoid collateral damage. Without grasping the extent of the impact, I’m afraid I won’t be able to spend much time in the same area. At least until I get a better idea.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Kyle asked. Probably the wrong word, but that wasn’t an accident. I don’t know more than I should. I’m not studying magic on my own. Of course I trust you, Grandpa. “You have magic already. Why would being near us be dangerous for you?”

“Ah, a common misconception.” Akiko seemed almost eager to talk, pacing back and forth in front of the window. She fiddled with something around her neck, maybe a locket or a pocket watch? But why would she be wearing it there? “Many assume that we’re magical ourselves, but that just isn’t the case. I can’t produce magic like you do. I can tolerate far more than humans, in the same way someone who spends many years drinking regularly can tolerate high doses of alcohol.”

Does that work the other way? Will Kara and I be in trouble when we go suddenly off this and don’t have it anymore?”

“We can discuss the academics of this later,” Edgar interrupted. “I’m sure they’re eager to learn what you can share with them, Akiko. Use your time when I’m not present to exchange that information, please. I would prefer if we used this opportunity more productively.”

She stiffened, then bowed towards him. “Apologies, Mr. Harrington. Of course.” The excitement was entirely gone from her face when she turned back, expression resolved. “I have brought with me a construct I believe will be useful for a first experiment. I was hoping you would volunteer, Kara. It’s less likely this will work for Kyle without modifications, but we could test with you instead if you prefer.”

Kara stepped forward, eager. “You said it’s more likely to work for me anyway? Sign me the hell up. Kyle understands, doesn’t she?”

Kyle retreated from the window, just a little. It wasn’t just Fay squirming on her back that made her nervous. That thing Akiko was wearing wasn’t just a piece of jewelry. There was pressure there, like a storm building, about to break. She couldn’t look directly at it without feeling it push back against her forehead.

“I have to join you out there,” Akiko went on. “My employer will remain shielded behind the glass for the duration. Are you okay with me coming out there?”

Grandpa’s expression hardened. Are you mad that she asked, or preparing what to say if we refuse?

She didn’t find out, because Kara nodded eagerly. “Course, course. We’re not hurt by being around humans. Mom and Dad were close to us for a week, and nothing ever happened.” She looked around, and Kyle followed her gaze. Not far to one side were a few thin cracks in the wall, which almost managed to conceal a door. Except now that they were looking for it, it was obvious. It went right through to the other side of the lab.

A moment later and the door opened, hissing with pneumatics. Kyle caught one look of nearly a foot of hardened concrete before it shut again, fake stone face settling smoothly back over the opening.

Akiko approached without safety gear, just as Grandpa had done earlier. She carried nothing, though she’d removed the object from around her neck and now clutched it in one hand. “The idea behind this test is simple,” she went on. “I’ve built something to drain magic from someone. It should start with any active spells. Hopefully this means the transformation affecting both of you can be undone, and you’ll walk away. But you haven’t become the same creatures. Kara, you hold far less magic than your brother. I don’t think my construct will be able to hold the magic from someone as powerful as she is.”

Kara shrugged. “Kyle doesn’t mind if I go first, right Kyle? I don’t really understand anything you just said, but I want my hands back. If that’s how to get them, then I’m ready.”

“One last thing.” Akiko hesitated, holding the necklace out in one hand. Now that it was close, Kyle could get a better look. It had a sealing section on the front, which sat open. Sparks and little flashes of light shone from inside, as though the woman had somehow managed to capture a particularly bright firefly.

“You’ve been used to this spell for a long time. Whatever transformed you, if it’s an active spell at all… it’s tough, and your body is adapting. That means you should expect a little pain when I take it away.”

“I don’t care if it hurts,” Kara said, sticking her tongue out. “I’ve made it through three seasons of cheer. Just tell me what to do.”

“Hold out your leg,” Akiko instructed. “I’m going to touch the necklace to you. The longer you stay in contact with me, the greater the chances we can disassemble the spell. But if the spell survives, it will probably regenerate using the magic you naturally produce.”

“Got it.” Kara held still as Akiko finally extended the necklace towards her. She stiffened visibly as it touched her, scraping her other three hooves against the cement, though she somehow managed to keep that leg straight. The necklace began to glow, going from a few little flashes to a steady purple, pulsing with its own heartbeat.

It grew brighter, and Kara dropped to one knee, like someone tossing a coke bottle onto the stone. It wasn’t just sound, actually. Kyle watched as her leg near Akiko’s necklace seemed less alive by the second. It started reflecting again, a transparent piece of crystal that went completely still.

“I c-can’t—” Kara's eyes bulged, silent tears dripping down her face. She shook faintly in place, as though she were a piece of crystal glass placed beside a speaker. Finally she screamed, though her voice cracked into something more like stones grinding together, and had nothing even slightly human in it.

Kyle didn’t wait. She lurched, pulling Kara away and leaving Akiko to catch the necklace.

Had Kara always felt so heavy? There was no mistaking her leg, a chunk of carved quartz without a hint of fur to it. She twitched, and the leg barely responded. “It doesn’t look… like that’s curing me.”

Akiko closed the necklace with a snap, though it was glowing bright enough now that light radiated out the sides anyway. She took a single step back, lowering her head apologetically. “We weren’t able to dismantle the spell. I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if it would be enough.”

Kyle bent down, watching as color gradually returned through the joint with the rest of Kara’s arm. It spread slowly, making the crystal gradually return to living color. The rest of her grew paler, like someone who had lost a dangerous amount of blood. “I don’t think there’s a spell keeping her like this,” Kyle said, shielding her with a protective wing. Not that she expected Akiko to attack, she looked only apologetic.

“It wasn’t the result I was hoping for,” the woman said. “You should return over time, as your magic naturally regenerates. Unfortunate that we’ve lost a useful avenue for exploration, but…

Grandpa hadn’t moved. Maybe he just didn’t know enough to recognize the pain Kara was in through the glass, or maybe shielding the magic blocked enough not to see things. The door hissed open, and Akiko passed back through the shield as quickly as she had come. “It wasn’t what we were hoping for from a first experiment,” Grandpa said, without any of the disappointment Kyle might’ve expected. “Does it hurt, Kara?”

She nodded. “Like pins and needles, all the way through my leg. Like breaking it…”

“We’ll come up with something better next time,” he said, barely seeming to hear her. “I know failure can be disappointing, but it’s all about iteration. Phenomenal success on our first attempt would have been fantastic, but it seems it wasn’t realistic.”

He took a step back, extending his cane towards a button on the wall. “Buzz if you need anything. I’m going to get away from potential exposure in the meantime.” The ceiling began to close, metal sheet rattling down until they were sealed off from the lab all over again.

Kara dropped to the ground, staring down at the leg. The joint had returned to life, but the rest of her still looked like rock. “Damn, I thought I knew what hurt was,” she said, staring in horror at the stone that had replaced her leg. “What happened to me, bro? What am I?”

“I don’t know,” she squeaked, ears flattening. “Can I do anything to help?”

Kara swore under her breath. “Some Tylenol or something, and maybe a pillow to help me get this thing propped up somewhere. It’s so damn heavy.”

With the door sealed, Fay hopped off her back, wandering around the largely empty space while Kyle helped her sister onto a dining-room table. Only when she had the mutilated leg up on the table did she finally speak again.

“I knew I was screwed up, but damn. We turn to stone when the magic is taken away?”

I’m not sure that’s a we thing. Kyle debated whether she would say it at all—maybe her sister would be better off not knowing what she thought. But she wasn’t going to keep anything from Kara, no matter how painful. That wasn’t how trust worked.

“When you first changed, you uh… looked a little like your leg does now. I thought maybe you were going to stay like that at first, but it went away after a few minutes. I don’t know what that means… maybe you’re some kind of rock-horse?”

Kara ground her teeth together, tapping at the leg with one hoof. It sounded a little like someone knocking drinking glasses together. “Your baby turned me into a rock? And taking the magic away makes it so I can’t move anymore, can’t feel. I’m like the furniture from Beauty and the Beast. Take away the spell, and I’m dead forever. Is that it?”

I wish you didn’t put it that way. “It doesn’t mean we can’t fix this,” Kyle said instead. She hesitated, then darted to one side, catching Fay with her magic before she could start playing with the touch screen on the soda dispenser. She held her in her wings, trying to calm her down. “It just means the help won’t come from outside. There won’t be any magic bullet to shoot at the problem and change you back.”

“You think Akiko will be able to help you?” Kara asked, sipping at her coke. The color was returning to her leg, so Akiko had been right about that at least. The longer they waited, the more she returned to life. “You could show her your magic practice. Maybe she could speed this up.”

Or maybe she’ll tell Grandpa everything he doesn’t already know, and he’ll try to take it away.

Kyle could still picture his face, as Kara screamed and collapsed. He’d watched like he barely even noticed it hurt. Did you know this would happen?

Chapter 36: Recovery Window

Maybe they were captives, maybe they were being protected from a government that would turn them into laboratory animals. It was possible all Kyle had managed to do was change the who of where they ended up under the microscope, rather than escaping from it.

But even if they were captives, living in a sturdy dome with clear walls and soldiers all around, Kyle was still going to take advantage of some time to practice.

Her light spell was easy, becoming more and more second-nature the more she cast it. But seeing Grandpa’s face while Kara screamed had given her new urgency to get them some real privacy. She might not be able to do anything about the cameras that were probably hidden everywhere, but she could at least stop them from being overheard.

It took a few hours for Kara to recover enough to dare putting weight on her leg again, and still she limped and struggled. But when that time finally came, Kyle could put Fay down for a nap with confidence, knowing that someone else would be there to keep an eye on her, and give Kyle more time to practice.

Grandpa had provided them with almost everything, and so she had a printer to raid for paper and a decent amount of stationary tucked into a top drawer.

She set up the laptop, then spread several sheets of paper and started to sketch. She could’ve used the printout, but it didn’t look like anyone knew about that. It would be best to keep that information obscure.

There were several symbols just begging to be combined into a silence spell. There was no telling if she was balancing the equation properly just by drawing it—but the symbols felt right, and fully realized the spell formed a neat circle not all that dissimilar from the barrier against sound she was trying to produce. But just because it looked good didn’t mean it would work.

She focused intently on the spell, settled on the ground in the most comfortable position she could manage. It couldn’t be that much harder than making a little light, could it? The equation’s representation of the energy it would cost was barely any larger, assuming she read it right.

It looked good, and that was enough. The pressure was far too intense to waste days on balancing and double-checks.

But as she stared, humming through the verbal representation of the spell in sequence over and over, she found her tongue going gradually numb with pain. Instead of combining into a melody, the words kept coming apart. Her head began to pound, and eventually she slumped to the table, touching her horn to her spell.

It went up in a vibrant flash of flame, bright enough that she jerked back in horror. She raised a hoof to shield her eyes, backing away a few steps. Smoke rose in a plume from around the spell, which remained scoured into the table in an even ring. Well I made myself look like an idiot.

Kyle watched the door slam open right in front of her, knob digging into the wall completely silent.

Kara appeared there, eyes wide. Her mouth moved, panicked shouting probably. Kyle heard nothing.

“Oh.” She gestured, and her sister closed the distance, passing close enough to the single-meter radius she’d written into the spell. Her voice returned, like fading the volume back up on a radio. “If you’re trying not to get caught, you weren’t very subtle! Lighting things on fire like that. Did you really need to practice fire?”

Kyle blushed, ears flattening in embarrassment. But she couldn’t be shy for long. Probably she’d revealed more than she should have, at least assuming there were cameras she didn’t know about. “I wasn’t practicing with fire, that was just…”

She reached down, shoving several blank sheets of paper away from the center of the desk. Her little spell had burned right through everything, searing itself down into the wood. It glowed faintly blue, the same color her horn did when she was lifting things. Was that how she could tell it was active?

“What?” Kara asked. Then she noticed the table, and leaned down to stare. “Damn, Bro. Won’t be able to hide that one. You think Grandpa will be pissed about it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Kara, I just made a spell. It’s what Monday wanted, look.”

She pointed at the door with one leg until Kara turned to look, then levitated it all the way back and slammed it closed. As before there wasn’t a sound.

Kara’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. Finally she crossed to the exit, opening the door and shutting it again. Her mouth moved, but of course Kyle couldn’t hear. “You’re outside the spell now,” she said, exaggerating her words so it would be more obvious. “I can’t hear you out there!”

She half-expected her own words to echo, like an invisible bubble had been dropped down around her. But they hadn’t even done that.

Kara crossed back inside. “I think you woke up the baby with that door thing, bro. Probably shouldn’t have made so much noise.”

She swore under her breath, rising quickly. “I thought she was already up.” She spread her wings as she hurried down the hall, though of course she didn’t actually know how to use them. It just felt like she should be moving quicker if her wings got involved.

She popped her head through the door, flicking the light on. “Hey sweetie. Did you hear that all the way over here? I… really need to remember the walls don’t go up all the way.”

At least fire alarms hadn’t started drowning them with water, and Grandpa hadn’t sent soldiers stomping down the steps to find them. She reached down into the crib, holding Fay up against her chest. She squirmed and cried for a little longer, but at least she didn’t attack anything.

The clock against the wall said it was early evening, but without any sunlight, Kyle couldn’t really tell. Maybe it had been lying this whole time, to gradually distance them from the real world.

I should’ve asked Grandpa about when we’d get to see Mom and Dad again.

Fay wiggled out of her grip and stood on her own behind Kyle, all the sign she needed of what the baby wanted. It made sense—when she felt bloated and overfull, that usually meant Fay was hungry.

“So what were you trying to do?” Kara asked, settling into the open doorway. Her eyes briefly settled on what Fay was doing, and she looked away without too much embarrassment. “Something with noise?”

“Silence,” she answered, looking pointedly up. She wasn’t sure if there were cameras, or where their grandfather might be listening. But he still hadn’t confronted them yet. Maybe he wasn’t watching that closely, or just didn’t care. “No sound in or out. It looked like it worked pretty well, except… I need to figure out why it hit the table instead of something I would hold. I guess I need to do a little more reading.”

“Just don’t try to suck the magic out of something and make me hold it,” Kara said, smiling weakly. “I’m no longer excited about being a guinea pig.”

She chuckled. “I, uh… won’t try anything without asking Monday if it works.”

She typed up her next message for her “mentor” several hours later, when Fay had finally gone to sleep. She did her best to keep her message safe from anyone who might be listening, though she had her doubts that anything she did would be enough to keep someone as determined as her grandfather from breaching the message.

“I came up with a spell, and it works, it produced a bubble of silence on the table that’s still running even now. I had hoped for something that kept working as long as I concentrated, but I screwed up there.”

She went on to describe what had happened to Kara, though she left out anything to do with her grandfather or the things she suspected about him. Monday could probably do more with more information, but if Edgar did manage to read what she was sending, at least it wouldn’t turn him against them.

Hopefully.

That also meant she couldn’t include anything about Akiko, not until she was sure she could ask without being overheard. Maybe she could enchant an email the way she kept sound from leaving the desk?

“I’d love to learn more about the kind of magic that could turn us back,” she said near the end, the bravest she’d been so far. “I know you said it was advanced, but my sister is already getting sick of this. I can’t blame her.”

She read over the email a few more times to catch any errors she’d missed, made sure she was still connected to her VPN, then sent it off.

He’s going to know everything I said, she thought, closing everything out and returning to the desktop.

But Grandpa didn’t send in his goons the next morning, or visit himself. They didn’t even call.

Just as before, Monday hadn’t kept her waiting long for a reply. By the time she took care of Fay’s morning needs and made it to the computer, she found a message waiting in her disposable email address.

“Damn you’re fast at this, kid. I guess that shouldn’t be too surprising—if you had human limits you’d be human and one of the Orders would’ve found you. But you’ll never make a recruit, apprenticing for years before you learn anything useful. You don’t have time for that.

“What you’ve done fails to meet the requirements I set for you, though it’s close enough that I forgive the mistake. Crash course on some vocabulary. A spell is something that doesn’t have a physical focus. You cast it on someone, or you hold it with your concentration. When the energy runs out, it fades away. Usually because you stop feeding it.

“Enchantments are spells you’ve let go, casting them on objects and disconnecting. Most Willworkers take months of planning and careful engineering to make one, culminating with a permanent sacrifice of power that takes months more to recover. Ask yourself if you’re feeling drained and weak right now. See if your spells are coming harder, try the one you mastered already. If they are, then you’re like the rest of us.

“But given how easy that was, I’m guessing you’re different. Mythical creatures like yourself are known to have strange powers, apparently one of yours is to be a source of permanent spells. This may be a clue about what the alien did to you—or at least how she had enough power. The problem with the spell you wrote is that it’s missing a termination clause. It’s one of the few pages I sent you, read it again. Normally the mistake you made would’ve just left an apprentice unconscious and left no spell cast.

“You should destroy the enchantment as soon as possible. Use something sharp to sever the circle and unbalance the equation. There will be a flash as the power is dissolved—or a very large explosion, with a larger spell. That’s my way of telling you not to make this mistake again. Enchantments place a drain on the natural flow of magic in an area. They can be traced, and too many in one place can make magical creatures sick.

“Make something new, and don’t write any more spells without a termination clause. Even if you can do it doesn’t mean you should. Also don’t tell anyone you can do it, seriously. The ability to make permanent weak enchantments makes you the most valuable creature in North America on its own, assuming you have no other abilities. It seems obvious that you do.

“Sorry to hear about your sister. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m going to give you some hard truth here. That baby is going to keep making things worse until she makes it impossible to survive around her. The best plan is a stasis enchantment—freeze her in time for as many years as it takes for you to get your shit together. That’s a lot of magic to master before you get to that level, though. The more she does, the more eyes will fall on you.

“I know you’re not on the western seaboard anymore, that you’ve gone north. I don’t know how far, yet. But the more magic you cast, the easier to find you become. Think carefully, choose subtlety over flashiness.

“I don’t know what you sister is—I looked, but couldn’t find anything matching her description. There is one creature I think might make for a good match, but you won’t like it. The closest summary I can give you would be ‘soul jar’. A container Willworkers give to useful mortal servants, friends, and lovers. They’re beings of animated crystal, completely reliant on their magic to survive. This kinda-sorta means she’s dead, a little bit. But also immortal, so good for her?

“Might still be a way to reverse it, I don’t know. Everything you do should be impossible, so if anyone can do it it’s you or the baby. All the more reason to study.

“Give me another useful spell, this time one that won’t take the magical output of a city to power if you please. I’m not doing this to buy time while I transcribe more advanced spellcasting components at all, shut up. This is how all school-by-mail magic works.

“-Monday.”

Chapter 37: Butterfly Wings

Twilight Sparkle had been working tirelessly.

It wasn’t just that their last visit had been so fruitless, though that was certainly part of it. Seeing that alien world, one apparently accustomed to frequent visits—it meant they were close. In the uncountable billions of possible variations, they’d hit a world that other explorers had visited first. That made it a significant signpost, one that promised compatible conditions for life all around it. She spent days making every possible fine variation of its coordinates, checking each equation for balance several times.

Then the new batch of drones came, and she waited eagerly for news of what they had found. She resisted the urge to be personally involved as Princess Cadance never could. She trusted her scientists and technicians. If she couldn’t do that, Flurry was lost forever.

Twilight’s trust wasn’t in vain this time. The message came that another viable candidate had been detected, this time with a positive reading from the life on the other side. A single reading wasn’t enough to prove anything, of course. But this made the first time that a probe had even come back with anything she could test.

There was no chance of the message making it back to Cadance this time. She’d sworn everypony to silence, and after the last time she had no doubt her request would actually be honored.

Twilight didn’t take long to prepare—her spells had served her well last time, and she hadn’t even needed most of them. “You’re gonna go again this time?” Spike asked, as Twilight removed her jewelry from the oil-bath she used to keep the magic from interacting from the environment.

She shook the last few drops of mineral oil back into the tub, wiping it clear with a towel. “I’m not going for Flurry Heart directly,” she said. “I’m just… confirming our preliminary results.” She levitated the card with their test-results over towards Spike, so he could see all the green checkboxes. “Cadance has an army training at Flurry’s Vigil. I don’t think it’s best for her to handle this. It might be a false alarm. Even if it isn’t, we don’t want our first contact with this place to be hostile. We don’t know what powers wait there. They could make us all look weak and feeble. They might be able to kill us with ease, and we’ll be depending entirely on their goodwill and mercy.”

Spike’s eyebrows went up. “You honestly believe that, Twi? You’re an Alicorn. Your friends took down the god of chaos, and half a dozen different invasions and evil ponies. There can’t be anything in that world that’s really dangerous to you.”

Twilight shook her head, then secured the jewelry one piece at a time. It still felt a little oily against her coat, but that wouldn’t hurt anything. She was about to walk into another universe, after all. “It’s probably safe to assume these worlds are like ours,” she said, removing her saddlebags from a hook over the desk and checking their contents. Various testing supplies and survival gear were inside, enough that she could spend the night if she needed to. She didn’t particularly expect to do that, but she needed to be prepared.

We can’t get too excited yet. It could be a false positive. Those laboratory tests were designed for ponies who can barely tell a spell from an enchantment.

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” Spike asked. “I know you don’t want to get anypony else. By the time you did, word would get out, and somepony would probably know something Cadance could find out. But I could go with you. I’m strong, I know almost as much about this universe-stuff as you do at this point! Let me come!”

Twilight opened her mouth to refuse—and couldn’t bring herself to do it. Spike hadn’t lost anyone, he had no personal connection to Flurry. But in a way, that made him ideal. He wasn’t just objective, he was a dragon. Magic would affect them both differently. Maybe if they were lucky, it would make whoever they encountered think they’d come from separate worlds.

She could already see Spike’s expression brightening at her silence. He knew she was about to let him do it.

Before he could start celebrating, Twilight raised a wing. “If I bring you, you’re going to follow every instruction I give exactly,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how strange it seems, or how pointless. It doesn’t matter if you disagree. You stay close to me, and you follow directions.”

“I can do that!” Spike beamed. “I’ve basically been doing that since I hatched, Twi.” He lowered his voice. “Weeks of keeping records, and it’s finally Spike’s turn to go on an adventure.”

They hurried from the castle, using the servants’ passages so nopony would know Twilight had gone. The gate building was already buzzing with activity. That in itself wouldn’t set off too many red flags, even if Cadance had a pony watching with a telescope or something. But she wouldn’t do that, right? She trusts me.

Twilight passed through the decontamination spray, mouth tightly closed against the awful taste. It still burned as it went up her nose, but she fought it back. Spike hacked and coughed a few lungfuls of flame.

Then they were on the other side, where her technicians already had the portal prepared to connect. The thaumic charge on the air lifted her mane, pressing against her horn. Lightning only moments from striking.

“You’re going to make a trip over so soon?” Static Variable said, watching her nervously. “You could send one of us on missions like this, Princess. You know the Love Princess has a squad of royal guards ready to go through that portal the instant you ask?”

“Bloomin’ lunatics,” said somepony else. “They’d probably jump in front of a train if they thought it would save Flurry Heart.”

So would her mom.

“I’m sure,” Twilight said, crossing through the shielded barrier into the observation room. “Let’s get this connected, Static. This doesn’t need to be a big deal.”

It wasn’t a big deal that they were cutting through the universal barrier into realms no pony hoof had ever touched. Except maybe Flurry’s, this time.

“You really think we might be done?” Static asked from beside her.

“I think we might be getting close,” Twilight admitted, patting her satchel with its many environmental spells and bits of equipment inside. She opened the flap with her magic, visually inspecting each piece. The Flurry tracking spell was at the center of them all, placed tightly against where the satchel met her side. Then she hesitated, recognizing the expressions on their faces. “You’re… not excited that we might be done?”

They looked to each other, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if any would be brave enough to object. Finally Static cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t go that far. Your success has been eagerly anticipated. Of course we’re all happy that the royal family might find its missing member. It was a tragedy losing Flurry Heart.”

Silence. Thaumic crystals arced again, ready to fire. Waiting for her. Yet Twilight hesitated another moment. She couldn’t have said why—maybe she just didn’t want to face what would happen if she got there and the spells didn’t verify they were finished.

Her delay worked, at least. Another pony finally stepped forward, lowering his head politely to her. “Princess, we’ve been exploring an entirely new realm of magic here. It will be an honor to have found our target, but… it seems a shame to give all this up? Once we’re done searching, once the little princess is back in the Empire, don’t you think… there might be something worth preserving about all this?”

Without the taxes of an entire city-state paying for all this, it won’t be easy. There are never enough bits in the scientific budget.

“Yes,” she said instead. “I’m sure there’s a great deal worth preserving. There are probably many new friends to make… new kinds of magic to understand, new worlds to explore. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, alright ponies? Don’t plan for our future when Flurry is found. Focus on getting her back with me, please. Once we’ve done that, I’ll support you as we restructure into something more sustainable.”

She made her way to the portal platform, climbing up the few steps over the barriers there. Spike followed at her side, attracting more than a few curious looks. But nopony told him to move—obviously Twilight could see what he was doing, so he must be permitted.

Starlight wasn’t here this time—Twilight couldn’t afford the delay in retrieving her. But that was fine, Static knew how to work the equipment well enough. “Ready, Princess. How long until we send a team after you?”

“Never, again,” she said matter-of-factly. “Anything too dangerous for an Alicorn is lethal to anypony you send. If I don’t report back in an hour, mark the world as critically dangerous and go back to searching elsewhere. Do not retrieve our bodies.”

Spike shuddered, one hand resting on her back. He hadn’t done that in years. “D-do you mean that, Twi? Could we die out there?”

“Yes. Still want to come?”

He didn’t move. She gave him another few seconds, before nodding to Static. “Alright, Static. See you with our results.”

Twilight stiffened, but she was more experienced with the transition process this time, and knew basically what to expect. Eventually the discomfort passed, and suddenly she was somewhere else.

For the second time, Twilight found herself recognizing the environment. Distant mountains rose, not bearing Canterlot’s outline, but standing in the same place. Dense foliage surrounded her, which might’ve easily looked like Ponyville if she could see the ground more clearly.

Spike wobbled and dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. She reached down to pat him on the back, and he started to puke. She pulled her wing back. “You’re still inside my environmental spells… are you okay, Spike? Is that just motion sickness?”

He looked up, belching out a mouthful of sickly green flames. “I, uh… think so. Do you have something to drink?”

She levitated a canteen down towards him, returning her eyes to the forest. She could feel no monstrous spells coming for them. She took a few steps, levitating out her lab equipment and setting to work.

There were no strange birds this time. While she processed the piece of fern she’d chosen, Spike rolled onto his back, settling the canteen down beside him.

Twilight levitated her test tube up to the light, watching as the enchantment on it faded away. The plants would turn brown like they had so many times before. It would be close, but bringing the sample back to Equestria had obviously tainted it.

The tube glowed, becoming bright pink. Flurry’s pink.

Twilight’s heart raced, and she settled the tube in beside her test-kit, levitating out the next bit of her test. She took a few more moments, filling other empty vials with soil, little rocks, and clippings from a few more plants. She wouldn’t be testing them now, but they might be able to tell her all kinds of useful things about this world once she got them back.

Twilight wouldn’t want to waste the magic in the tracking spell—each one of these required something Flurry had owned, and the connection to each grew weaker with time. The filly had been so young that she had contact with precious little in Equestria. By now, she has more of an impact on her new world than her old one.

Twilight held the spell flat in the air in front of her, pouring her own magical energy in and finally casting the spell.

Across a universal barrier, a tracking spell like this would barely wobble. Those faint vibrations could be tracked, as she demonstrated, but only with weeks of work and the best unicorns in Equestria.

The disk spun like a compass needle, pointing almost directly north. Assuming the sun moved the same way in this new world as Equestria’s, anyway.

I can’t get overexcited. Twilight twisted the object back around, fighting against its natural pull. She let go, and it swiveled directly north again.

Something rumbled overhead, barely visible through the trees. Twilight crouched low, spreading her wings protectively over where Spike now sat. A rigid metal structure, passing in a straight line and roaring distantly in its flight. This world’s version of dragons, maybe?

“It won’t harm you,” said a voice, sly and gentle. “It’s thirty thousand feet up. The true dangers are all much closer than that.”

Chapter 38: Body Invisible

Twilight turned slowly, keeping her wings close to her sides. If somepony had really managed to sneak up on her without her noticing, they could probably kill her just as easily. Peace was the only option.

A figure loomed in the shadows of the trees, remaining entirely still as Twilight spun. She caught a few wisps of dark fabric, and a shadowy outline around its face. Much more importantly, she felt the magic from it. It was a stealth spell of some kind, and her inability to see its face was no accident.

Even so, she could judge a few things about it. It stood about her height, so would’ve been bigger than most ponies. “Did you know I was coming?”

She put herself between Spike and the stranger, but otherwise made no effort to get any closer to it. Any creature that went to so much trouble to avoid being seen would probably not be happy with Twilight trying to get closer. She had to fight back her curiosity.

“We knew someone was.” The figure walked closer, its form still indistinct and blurring at the edges. Not just a spell, but some kind of… special fabric, maybe? The cloak it wore actively projected what was behind it, slightly warped and twisted by the angle. It might keep it hidden if it held perfectly still, but it wasn’t bothering to do that. “I didn’t expect a horse.”

Spike finally rose to his claws, stance alert beside her. Twilight rested her wing on his shoulders, the only signal she would need for him to stay still. If we fight an enemy we don’t understand, we’ll lose.

“I’m not a horse, I’m a pony! An Alicorn technically, if you know the difference.” She stuck out her hoof, grinning with the friendliest expression she could. “I’m Twilight Sparkle!”

The closer the stranger got, the worse his illusion survived scrutiny. It wasn’t actually very well-made, however mysterious and brooding he might act. You’re not as good at this as you think.

Maybe he didn’t know the expression, because he didn’t take the offered hoof. The strange robes were enough to conceal the true face of her companion, or even what he looked like. “Call me Samaritan, though I am not. Whether you think I’m good or bad will be your determination to make when our meeting is over.”

He settled down on the back of a nearby stump, turning the whole thing blurry and out-of-focus.

“Do you always talk like this?” Spike asked, annoyance rising in his voice. “We’re explorers from another universe! How is that not awesome?”

Twilight turned, glaring sidelong at the dragon. “Not now,” she hissed, before turning back to him. “I’m just an explorer. I’m searching for another like me. She went missing… I don’t know how well time corresponds between our worlds. But if I had to guess, it should be more than a day and less than a year.”

Samaritan nodded. So at least one gesture translated to this alien species. “You nearly disturbed the Pax Arcanum, Twilight Sparkle. No one knew whose magic had invoked such a powerful spell, and none would admit it. If we were not all such good friends, it could have caused a war.”

Are you threatening me? The longer she heard this voice, the more Twilight thought she recognized it. It was lower, slower maybe. But patterns stuck. Could our worlds be that close? Does this world have a Canterlot too?

“We didn’t mean to cause any harm,” Twilight said. “I just want to bring the missing pony back with me. If you can give her to me, we can leave your world behind. Forever, if you ask. I’ll instruct the others to remove your coordinates from our registry.”

The figure seemed to flicker, then vanished. Its voice was indistinct, blurring—and suddenly it came from behind her, chuckling amicably. “That might have been possible once, Gatecrasher. Your missing alien has been somewhat… disruptive, while among us. If she remained too long, I expect the awakened secrets would be revealed and the sanity would be torn from the minds of every sleeping child.”

Twilight spun to face it. Now it stood in the underbrush again, a tall outline of a being she could not name. “You won’t give her back?” she asked. She kept her voice neutral, though she could sense Spike’s growing hostility. “We’ll pay to have her returned. We have gold, gemstones, enchantments. Anything you ask.”

Samaritan laughed again, tone bitter this time. “There are… factions. We disagree on the approach, and the Pax forbids our interference. But you could.” He nodded towards the floating disk of a tracking spell. “If you act quickly enough, the divided Body Invisible will take no action. If you retrieve your missing child, and leave no stain on the tapestry of our planet, our Pax will forbid any to follow behind you.”

Talking to him was a little like dealing with Discord. Twilight longed to dispel that weak illusion and see who she was speaking to. It wouldn’t be hard. She could probably block that local area teleport too, if she reacted fast enough. She’d been working with that spell her whole adult life.

“You’re saying we should get her ourselves?” Spike asked. “You won’t stop us?”

The figure nodded. “You are mature where she is not. I trust you have the discipline not to stain the tapestry with unknown tears and frayed threads? Leave no spells behind, transfigure none, and excise the damage caused by your kin to mine. Do this, and none of the Invisible will follow you back through the open gate. Fail, and you have no promise.”

“You’re not invisible,” Spike said. “I can see through you, but…”

Samaritan laughed again. At least he didn’t seem angry. “Your dragon is adorable, Twilight. I don’t think the dreaming masses will think so, however.”

He blurred again, and suddenly the shadowy outline was right in front of her. He smelled like a recently extinguished wildfire, electric with wild and unchained magic. I don’t know if my shield can keep you out. “Communicating with you will already be seen as a violation of the Pax, so I don’t expect we will have the opportunity to speak again. If you have anything else to ask, do so before my colleagues notice.”

She already knew what she would ask. “What damage has she done? Has she hurt your friends?” She lowered her voice, barely daring to ask. “Killed anyone?”

“Not yet. I suspect many deaths would be inevitable, if someone didn’t intervene. Someone would, sooner or later. The greater her risk grows, the more willing to act the lethargic Body becomes. Hurry, Twilight. Retreat with your child before it wakes.”

Twilight moved closer to Spike, levitating her saddlebags back into place. She didn’t wait, rotating her necklace around until it clicked. The spell was cast, and the two of them were yanked back across the void.

Spike collapsed onto the transport-gateway floor, shaking with a fresh wave of sickness. Dragons were tougher than ponies in almost every way Twilight could think of, but apparently crossing between worlds was one way they weren’t stronger.

Coolant hissed all around them, and crystals went dark one at a time.

“What did you find?” Static asked. He kept his distance, while technicians rushed all around tending to the portal. “Good news?”

She felt all their eyes on her. One way or another, this moment would probably go down in Equestrian history. “Congratulations, everypony!” Twilight said, loud enough that her voice echoed through the room. She levitated her kit out of the bag, holding up the vial. They’d already seen one like this, but even so. This was confirmation. “We found her!”

Time blurred and melted around Twilight. There were plenty more tests to run on the other samples she’d collected, to be sure of the safety of the realm beyond for more extended trips.

But she could not wait long, or risk Cadance returning in a rage. While other ponies ran tests on the rocks and dirt and larger plant samples she had brought, Twilight directed her portal crew to begin packing the portal for transport.

The coordinates were the most important of that process, and those she recorded at least three different ways. She kept one on her person, entrusted another to Starlight, and locked a third in the castle safe, with instructions for Spike to guard it.

“Can’t I come with you?” Spike asked, as Twilight levitated her oversized bed over where the safe was concealed. “That Samaritan guy seemed like a real creep. You might need a dragon if you have to do real fighting.”

I’ll have the girls with me. Anything we can’t fight together is too much for a dragon too. “It would be great to have you,” Twilight said instead. “But I need you to run Ponyville for me while I’m gone.” She levitated the windows open, expecting a wave of light and a great view. But she’d apparently lost track of time. It was early evening, and much of the city had already gone dark. The airship hovering over the castle was the brightest object in the sky, illuminating the pegasus transport team as they moved up and down with the portal gear.

“You think I’ll have to do anything to run Ponyville?” Spike said, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

Not much. “Hopefully not. But you heard him. I don’t know if Samaritan is skilled enough to follow us. If he is, he’ll probably appear just outside. I need somepony here I can trust watching it. You trap him there, stop him from escaping into Equestria. We have enough monsters of our own, we don’t need to import any more.”

Spike nodded, satisfied. “That makes sense. You’re leaving the royal guard behind to help, right?”

She nodded. “Starlight will be here too, in case you need any unicorn magic. She’ll help you with anything that happens.”

“Sure.” Spike waved a claw dismissively. “I won’t, though. Dragons are really strong against magic. I don’t think Samaritan was so tough. If he was, why pretend to be invisible?”

Twilight hated to ask her friends to do something so dangerous, but she wasn’t surprised when each of them agreed to come. If I don’t bring you with me, Cadance will probably try to force her way onto the mission again.

The next morning, Twilight strode into the bridge of the airship, waving politely to Captain Hardtack. “We’re all loaded, Captain,” she said. “We can sail north as soon as you’re ready.”

“Then we leave now,” he said, tapping one hoof on the deck. “Helm, ahead standard. Let’s get back before Princess Cadance thinks we’re late.”

Chapter 39: Closing In

Kyle stared down at the notepad, her brow furrowed in concentration. She'd been looking at the same nearly complete diagram for several hours now, puzzling out what might be wrong with it. But how could she possibly be expected to master an entirely new field of study within a few weeks of encountering it?

The paper was so marred with erase marks that it had torn in several places. She was so close to figuring this out. Even so, the pressure continued to mount. She knew that just outside her sister would be together with Fay, and the baby wouldn’t stay entertained forever.

I'm sorry, Kara. I wish I could do this faster.

But no matter how long she stared, what she was looking for just wouldn't come. She hadn't been given the right symbols. The spell in front of Kyle was her first shot at a transformation. Though, not one that her erstwhile master would have been happy with. Monday had been clear that transformation itself was not a permanent affair and that the next spell she had to give should match the original terms of her homework assignment.

But still Kyle tinkered, determined to perfect her new spell. Even if she lacked some of the specific symbols, the more she stared and worked with these strange runes, the more she realized they were connected. They weren't simply arbitrary markings, but a language unto themselves. If she could work with it long enough, perhaps she could discover exactly how to compose this language and no longer need Monday's help.

Of course, she wouldn't volunteer that to her teacher or else put an end to all her supply of new information. But if anything happened and the messages stopped, at least she wouldn't have to give up completely.

Kyle turned the page, exposing her completed homework assignment. This was far simpler, of course, but it would match the terms that Monday had asked for and likely result in more information.

Before she could turn it in, she needed to verify that it actually did anything. Kyle started memorizing the pattern and mouthing the words over and over again. Only when she was fully confident did she read the symbols out loud, picturing her diagram firmly in her mind.

There was no visual effect as the spell finally completed. She felt a slight drain of energy, briefly wavering on her hooves. With no other target, the spell turned on her.

What Kyle had created was a simple medical diagnostic tool. One that would find the nearest individual and report back to her the general condition and any illnesses or injuries it found. She wasn't sure what form that information would take.

She discovered the answer in a sudden wave of knowledge as she was bombarded by thoughts, flat and clinical and emotionless. Her mind filled and filled with medical information about her own body, her height, her weight, and anatomical information that was meaningless to her with her lack of medical training. She collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily as the wave passed and finally left her.

She felt dazed as though she just spent several hours in standardized tests. Yet the effects had done no physical harm. And when the sensation finally faded, she was able to gradually stand again.

“Well, that wasn't quite what you were probably looking for Monday, but it works. And that should be enough for you…” Kyle stared at her diagram for a few more seconds, then tore it from her notebook.

She made it all the way to the computer room, dodging quickly between the halls. But if Fay was determined to see her, the transparent walls would do nothing to keep her away. Kyle reached the office and filled out her letter to Monday as quickly as she could. She prefaced it with a warning that she didn't suggest Monday actually cast the spell.

Nevertheless, she included the spell in detail and described some of what she remembered. “Considering I'd like to find a cure for my condition, this seems like a direction I would like to explore. If there are further spells or symbols that might allow me to work more with biology and living things, I think that would be very helpful.”

She spent the next several minutes translating the diagram, then took a photo for good measure. Finally she signed the email and sent it off, collapsing to the table with a weary expression on her face.

She didn't remain there for more than a few minutes before the sound of crying caused her to rise, darting back into the hallway and cantering into the playroom.

Upon seeing her, Fay's face lit up and her wings spread. She hovered in the air for a few moments before zooming straight up to her.

Kyle caught her in a weak embrace and hugged her there until the crying stopped “I suppose I've been keeping away from you a little too long,” she muttered.

The baby only squealed and giggled with delight.

Maybe Kyle should have felt more frustration at her work being interrupted, but she'd been making good progress.

“I was going to come get you if you stayed away for much longer,” Kara said “But Fay had been good until the last few minutes. I'm not sure what upset her.”

“It's around her nap time,” Kyle said. “She's probably hungry too. I'll take care of that before she sleeps, then I can update you on what happened.” She found a comfortable spot to lay down and proceeded with the more animal side of her condition.

As uncomfortable as it was, the baby obviously found it soothing. And Kyle would have to lie to deny that there wasn't some part of her that enjoyed it as well. It was a little more difficult to hold a conversation in that position, so she waited until Fay had eaten her fill and she’d put her down in her own bedroom.”

“I didn't have a lot of luck with the transformations,” Kyle said. “I'm almost there, but I'm missing some of the important keywords I'll need. We'll just have to hope that Monday shares them with us.”

Kara was still favoring her injured leg, though with the passage of a few days some of the color was beginning to return to the joint. After their first failed attempt, they hadn't seen the strange mage or even their grandfather. What was even worse, their parents hadn't answered any of their calls. They had no means to make requests of their grandfather. Despite his promise on the first day that a member of his staff would always be there, there was rarely anyone in sight of the bunker.

“So you gave up?” Kara asked. “That seems a little premature.”

Kyle shook her head. “No, of course I didn't give up. I just needed to send something else. Hopefully with her other assignment completed so quickly Monday will send the rest of what we need. But just because I’m figuring out some magic stuff doesn't mean that it will be safe to use on you or me so soon. The spell I sent Monday is a medical scan, a health assessment kinda thing. The information it gave me was overwhelming. If I had to use that level of detail to complete a transformation, I don't know how I'd ever do it.”

“I have faith in you, sis. If anyone can do it, you can.”

“Sis?” Kyle stalked away from the door. “You're just switching to that now?"

Kara shrugged absently. "Would you feel better if I kept calling you 'bro'?"

Kyle hesitated, silent for almost three full seconds before she answered. "I guess it doesn't matter. No one is consistent with their pronouns. I'm not even sure what's right anymore."

Kara opened her mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance. A series of harsh footsteps sounded from outside their enclosure, loud enough that both of them looked up together. They turned, trotting towards the exit as fast as they could.

They arrived just in time to see a large group of people pushing heavy carts down the ramp. Kyle was almost impressed when she realized what they were. Piled on each one were sections of wall, modular and about the same size. They would perfectly fit with the sides of their enclosure, restoring the privacy that had been denied them when they arrived.

At the head of the group was their grandfather. “I'm sorry it's taken so long to get back to you,” Grandpa said, stepping through the gate. “Custom manufacturing takes a little while, and I was worried at my own exposure to the magic. But it has been long enough now that I believed I could chance a brief visit with you. Considering the information I have to share, I felt I owed it to you. Perhaps you would be willing to talk to me while this crew exchanges panels?”

“About damn time,” Kara muttered, her face frustrated. She held out one leg. “Your last attempt at a cure still hasn't healed yet.”

The crew began to work removing panels of plexiglass and swapping in the new ones. There was nothing special about them, simple faux wood patterns repeating over and over, but at least as long as Kyle didn't look up too high, it would give a convincing illusion that they were in a traditional home.

Grandpa shook his head, leaning weakly on his cane. For the first time, Kyle saw some of his age come through. “Yes, I'm terribly sorry about that. Let me assure you that I reprimanded Akiko in the harshest possible terms. She will not be making a mistake like that again. We believe that it might be best for further experiments to begin on your brother. Kyle's body is considerably more resilient than yours, and also more naturally biological. Though I must admit that I cannot promise the process of returning you both to your bodies will not be painful. We are in experimental territory here, and even the most competent mages will still make some mistakes. But if there is a way, I promise I will find it.”

“What about Mom and Dad? They haven't been online on Skype for the last three days. When are they going to visit?” Kara asked.

Their grandfather's face was an unreadable mask. “Your mother and father will be here as soon as they are able, but they were exposed to a great deal of energy before their arrival. We must allow for time for them to recover. If they spend too much time with you, they may receive a lethal dose. However, Akiko assures me that within a few days they should have reduced their ambient levels low enough that we can risk a visit.

“However, there is a matter I wish to broach with the two of you,” their grandfather continued, his tone casual. “I have to admit it is a difficult thing to ask so soon after our first attempt failed.

“But my retainer wizard has come to an uncomfortable conclusion. The changes that have applied to both of you are so complex that she is working completely in the dark. In order to make any meaningful attempt at restoring you, she will need to obtain magical information on the alien that changed you in the first place.

“What time do you believe the child will be most pliant? Obviously you would be there for the entire examination this time, Kyle, as your absence does seem to be what made the last attempt go so disastrously wrong. I would like to make the procedure as painless for all involved as possible.”

“It would be the mage? Not those doctors you sent to our house?” Kyle asked. “Even if her first attempt with Kara failed, she did seem genuine. And it does make sense that you would need to know more about Fay. But couldn't you do those tests on me? I'm not likely to go crazy and start shooting magic everywhere.”

Their grandfather nodded. “You do have a point, perhaps we should. But as similar as you are to the alien, there are magical differences. Don't ask me to explain them. The mage assures me there is something possessed by this outsider that you do not have. We can examine you first, and maybe find what we need, but ultimately the baby will need to be tested. So please tell me what I need to know to make that procedure as painless for you and the child as possible.”

Kyle’s mind spun as she reached for any alternative. But Edgar was probably right. This is going to be a disaster.

Author's Notes:

Hey, so I've got some fun news! A reader had some fanart done of the brief meeting with an incorrect universe in Chapter 32. Check it out!

Chapter 40: Exposed Contact

Their grandfather didn't give them very much time. At his insistence, they would meet with Akiko the very next day.

Their grandfather didn't stay for very long. Once the date of their meeting was confirmed, he turned to go, though the crew hadn't finished yet. “I don't believe I'll be attending this particular event,” he explained. “As much as I would like to be there, magic will be involved and I need to minimize exposure. Know that I have the utmost trust in Akiko. Her work has been exemplary thus far. As soon as she has gathered enough information, Akiko will be able to assemble a method to return you both to your original forms. She has yet to fail me. And if she does, I may need to investigate a replacement.”

He walked away, striding up the ramp before either of them could reply. The rest of the day passed more or less uneventfully, though. Kyle did have to retrieve Fay and shelter her from the crew. As they finally reached the bedroom, the baby was sleeping uneasily. She was cranky for the rest of the day, but she didn't blow anything up.

The next morning, Kyle found an email waiting for her.

“I received your spell attempt and was quite impressed with what I found. What you've done here would be unacceptable for an apprentice in any other situation. Funneling information directly into the mind is far too dangerous except in the most desperate situations.

“For that reason I've included several pages on filters at the beginning of the information I’ve attached. You've completed the assignment and I've finished digitizing enough to get you started. You will find a few intermediate level runes here. Study them well, because this time I have a more difficult assignment for you.

“What I require from you now is to assemble a simple communication spell and cast it, sending a message of your choice to me. This will be your first attempt at sympathetic magic, which involves the degree of connection you have with the subject of a spell. Given all we have done is communicate in these letters, you would not ordinarily have any hope of reaching me. I have attached my own magical signature. Use it to create an artificial familiarity between the two of us.

“I suppose you could say that completing this assignment will formalize your elevation from apprentice, since the sympathetic connection it will give you could be used to hurt me. If you're someone fucking with me, I guess I'm screwed.

“If you can get this working, then maybe I can move on to give you some of the information I have on life magic. But I warn you, it is an extremely dangerous practice. When the subject of your spell is your body or the body of another, death is the usual result of failure. Experiment on plants or insects, not people.”

Attached to the message was not a textbook's worth of new information, but only a few pages. A quick skim through them proved their complexity was significantly greater than anything she had experimented with before. It was like moving from simple algebra straight to calculus with a whole suite of new symbols and meanings.

There was a glossary, yet it referenced what she believed must be the entirety of her first instruction. Did Monday really expect her to memorize and master all of them when all she'd asked for was a single spell? I guess I don't have a choice, Kyle thought. It's either working with her or hoping that Akiko can change us back.

As much as Kyle would have liked to begin her new assignment right away, the needs of the day superseded it. Fay was most cooperative early in the morning and the time right after she ate, so Akiko would be arriving soon. Kyle proceeded with the normal business of the morning, waking Fay and feeding her as she usually did.

By the time she was finishing with her own breakfast, she heard the mechanical sound of the gate coming from across the cavern. She scooped Fay up onto her back, then walked slowly towards the study. Kara appeared in a hallway, watching wearily.

“You coming?” Kyle asked.

“After what happened last time? Not a chance in hell,” Kara replied. “Good luck though. I'm going to stay well out of the blast radius, just in case.”

Kyle groaned, but there was really no arguing with her. She crossed to the study and sure enough Akiko was there. This time she had a slim case over one shoulder. She turned, grinning weekly at Kyle.

“It's good to see you again,” she said, looking down at her feet. “I was hoping your sister might be here with you. I meant to apologize for my first attempt.”

Kyle shrugged. “She didn’t take it personally. You did tell her it would hurt. The best way you can apologize is to make this work. What do you think you're going to learn from Fay, exactly?”

Akiko settled her case down on the table, clicking it open. Inside was a flat slab of shiny metal, and several cloth bags that clinked with metallic sounds. She looked up, face flushed with embarrassment. “Forgive me. It’s not that I don't want to answer your question, but it might take several hours and technically it would violate the oaths I’ve made. I serve your grandfather and doing so already tests the boundaries. If I were to share forbidden knowledge, terrible things would happen to me.”

Kyle shrugged. “You think those rules apply to me? I'm not human anymore.”

Akiko selected one of the cloth bags, dumping out its contents on the table. Inside were many symbols Kyle had seen in her training, though most were unfamiliar to her. Each one was formed of stainless steel, probably hand cast with remarkable precision.

Akiko reached into her case and removed the metal plate.

A magical breadboard?

“Well, you do intend to be human again, don't you?” Akiko asked. “If I'm successful, then you'll remember everything I've told you. There are methods to remove memories, but they do terrible damage. So it would be best just not to share anything I'm not supposed to.” She began arranging symbols on the board, occasionally glancing up at them.

Fay watched the stranger with interest, not particularly disturbed by her presence. Kyle observed, considering the markings as they went on to the board one at a time. Maybe if she could run for her laptop, she might be able to figure out what the spell was meant to do. But if she had thought to bring her cell phone, she could have just snapped a picture of it and examined it in detail once Akiko left.

“Shouldn't you start by scanning me?” Kyle asked.

“No,” Akiko said. “I will need detailed measurements of you eventually. I'm not permitted to go into specifics. What matters is every wizard and many magical creatures have their own unique hallmarks, traces left by every spell they cast. This signature will be critical in unraveling what she did to you.

Kyle considered briefly whether she should inform Akiko of Monday and the conversations they'd been having. She would love to ask for a second opinion of the assessment that she would never be human again.

But Monday's last message lingered with her. She had received a great trust now from this stranger and ought to repay it. Besides, her parents hadn't appeared for days now. The longer they stayed away the weaker her trust in her grandfather became. Anything she said to Akiko would eventually reach her grandfather, no matter how well-meaning she was.

“I'll need you to put the baby down while I cast the spell,” Akiko said. “It won't take very long, and I promise it won't hurt. I'm not trying to change anything about her, just take a few quick readings.”

Kyle nodded then crossed the room to one of the comfortable looking armchairs. She levitated Fay off her shoulders, settling her down in the chair. Kyle took one step away from it, reaching over with one wing and draping it over the baby. “How far away do I have to be?” she asked. “Fay doesn't like to be away from people for very long, and there's not much for her to play with in here. I'm sure you've heard some of the things she's done to those who upset her.”

Akiko nodded grimly. “I'm aware, and so is your grandfather. But I don't think there's much risk to you. You've already been transformed and I’m guessing her attacks on her environment will ignore things she has changed. Just break physical contact, and I’ll get this over with as quickly as I can.”

Kyle pulled her wing back. “Do it then.”

Fay squealed in fear and surprise. Her wings covered herself, and she slid into the corner of the chair, reaching towards Kyle. At least she didn’t try to fly away.

“I'm not going to let go for long,” Kyle whispered, her voice as soothing as possible. “Just sit still, sweetheart. This'll be over in a minute. You wouldn't have to be doing this if you hadn't changed me.”

Akiko dug into her pocket for a moment, producing the strange clock device she had used on Kara. She settled it on the edge of the breadboard, then started to read.

Her pronunciation was radically different from what Kyle had used. If that didn't seem to matter, it was really about settling the pattern in their mind. Seconds later, Fay began to glow, lifting out of the chair in a levitation that was not her own.

She squealed in fear, her limbs kicking out beneath her as her wings spread. But the flapping was useless. Her own horn sparked and spluttered, but nothing happened.

“Akiko, I think you should hurry,” Kyle whispered though she didn't dare reach into the spell. After her own experience with a medical scan just yesterday, Kyle didn't want to accidentally interfere and make them start all over.

Akiko looked up, desperation in her eyes. Though from her expression, it seemed she couldn't stop. Akiko began to read faster, the words blurring together so that Kyle couldn't tell them apart anymore. Like a foreign language Kyle had only just begun to learn.

Fay’s body went rigid and her eyes turned to Akiko, furious with anger. Kyle reached out, her voice pleading and desperate, but she didn’t actually touch her. “No, Fay! Please. Calm down for a second, okay? The nice lady is just here to help us. She’s not hurting you.”

It was no use. Kyle watched helplessly as another flash of magic emanated from Fay’s horn. The space around them rippled, the ground transforming into a thick blue crystal spreading away in all directions. The table shifted, growing larger to accommodate their horse size. Furniture appeared from nowhere, and a ceiling grew overhead made of the same structural crystal.

As the wave hit Akiko, she went flying backward, outside the magical radius. Kyle's new magical senses felt as the wave of power continued outward in all directions, expanding down and around and transforming the world around it. She thought she heard the screams of soldiers as they turned and ran, doing their best to escape the magic.

As Akiko smacked into the ground, her little breadboard of symbols exploded in all directions, sending another flash of bright blue light blasting through the room. Fay dropped from the air, landing with a thump in the chair.

She turned towards Kyle, eyes widening with fear. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she cried. She might be an infant, but Kyle was positive she could identify betrayal somewhere in that voice.

Kyle rushed to her side holding her close, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

Chapter 41: True Step

Twilight kept mostly to herself during the journey, even though her friends were with her on board the Crystal Cruiser. It was possible, likely really, that she would have felt more comfortable in the presence of her friends who would be joining her across the universal barrier. But somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to face them right now. They had come, but did they belong in the danger she would put them in?

Princess Cadance would be there, probably furious with Twilight's lack of communication. It didn't matter that she had sent no messages ahead. Cadance had ears too close to Twilight's program. Twilight had no doubt in her mind that she would beat her to Flurry’s Vigil.

Twilight suspected that she had her own independent programs probing the universal barrier, finding other ways to cross. But she knew they had no chance of success, and hadn’t worried about the competition.

If there was one relief not having Spike join her for the trip, it was that she had no way of receiving messages. The Crystal Cruiser was too small for a radio, so there would be no wireless communications either. Cadance would not be able to demand they slow to take her aboard at a port somewhere.

Princess Twilight leaned out over the bow of the ship, staring down at Flurry’s Vigil. Even from a great distance, she could see the settlement, its vast clearing of burned trees scarring the land.

It was unlike any other pony settlement she had ever seen or indeed ever visited. It had been built with no regard to the damage it did, or the wildlife that was living there. It was not so much a city as a vast military compound several blocks in size, with an entire detachment of crystal pony soldiers on duty at all times. What they were protecting against, or what their role would be, she had no idea.

Twilight had burned a few letters for Shining now, each one suggesting different ways he might take over for Princess Cadance in the daily affairs of the Crystal Empire. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to write it. The citizens of the Empire would have to endure her rule a little longer.

There were no other vessels landed here, so they had the entire dock to themselves. As they finally lowered the Crystal Cruiser, she was unsurprised to find Princess Cadance waiting on the ground, surrounded by a small group of crystal pony soldiers.

The princess strode purposefully up the landing ramp before it was even fully lowered. Her wings spread for balance in the high winds.

Twilight advanced past the captain, not wanting him to take any of Cadance’s anger for his role in this.

But for all the anger she had expected, Princess Cadance only smiled. “Twilight, you should have written that you were coming! Without a message from you, I wouldn't have known not to return to the Crystal Empire. I could’ve missed your trip!”

You're almost never in the Crystal Empire anymore, Twilight thought. She extended a hoof and shook Cadance's outstretched leg the way she might've done in simpler times.

“I heard the good news from your observatory!” Again that reminder that Princess Cadance had access to information she shouldn’t. But when the princess funded all of Twilight’s experiments, she could only plug so many leaks.

“I didn't want to get your hopes up in case this destination proved to be a failure. That said, we ran a few tests. I crossed personally to verify the conditions, and check the tracking spell. It’s a match.”

For a moment, Cadance only stared, one eye twitching slightly. There were no bags under her eyes, no redness, or other evidence of the chronic exhaustion that must be wearing her down. What spells could she be using to keep alert through her long search for Flurry? “I don't believe I asked you to protect me from anything, Twilight. This is my daughter's life. I don't need anyone else deciding for me when the information is too hard to hear.”

Twilight nodded apologetically. “Of course, Cadance. I'm sorry, but now that you're here, I can tell you everything I've seen. Why don't you join us?”

Together, they walked down the landing ramp, with a relieved captain and crew following close behind.

Twilight only waved weakly to her friends, as she saw them crossing the gangplank, not wanting them to get dragged down into Cadance’s gravity well with her. If they failed to get Flurry back, Cadance would likely hold a grudge against all involved. Best insulate the ones who weren’t Alicorns.

Twilight was certain that if Princess Cadance got her way, they would have crossed immediately. Fortunately, she wasn't the one who understood the magic. Instead, Twilight moved according to the plan she had prepared, supervising the unloading of her supplies.

The scientific facilities at Flurry’s Vigil included a large transport building meant for her eventual use. It was a vast space, 50 meters or more across plenty large for her apparatus. Power generation so far from civilization would have been a problem of course, but she had prepared several large generators that would be enough to provide for their needs. Barely.

Twilight stood outside the building as they were mounted to their platforms and the disgusting chemical fuel was poured. The smoke burned her nostrils as the engine started, their massive turbines beginning to spin. It would take several hours for them to prepare enough energy for a single crossing.

“So tell me what you observed. What is this world like?” Cadance asked, as soon as they were standing together in the temporary control room. Equipment boxes were still being unpacked, but all of Twilight's most important crew were there.

Twilight retreated subconsciously from their motion, not wanting to get in their way as they plugged everything in.

Of course, she probably could have set up everything herself in less time. But these ponies were the ones who would be responsible for bringing her back. She had to learn to trust their technical aptitude. If they were unable to operate the equipment, she might never see her home again.

“Not everything we learned was good,” Twilight said, her voice tentative at first. “The world beyond is habitable by every definition we know. The air is breathable and it has familiar plants. Its configuration seems remarkably similar to Equestria and the alternate world accessible through the mirror. However, there are significant differences.”

Princess Cadance leaned closer, ears perking with attention. “Differences that would be dangerous to my daughter?” she asked.

“We can't be certain,” Twilight admitted. “I believe this world must have some equivalent to Alicorns in their magic. As soon as we crossed the barrier, a being of significant magical competence was there waiting for us. Likely he sensed the first probe when we sent it across, so he knew where to wait.”

Twilight explained their exchange, leaving out any details that she feared might frighten the princess. The important thing was that they had been granted permission to retrieve Flurry, and even the endorsement of whatever magical beings passed as this world's authorities.

“It doesn't seem terribly friendly of these aliens not to return Flurry to us themselves,” Cadance said. “If they're so powerful that they sensed you coming across, shouldn’t they have sensed my daughter? They could have sent her home months ago.”

Twilight's mind spun with the technical ignorance evident in that question. “Sensing an intrusion into their world would have taken very little power to do. The energy involved in crossing is massive and we weren’t trying to be stealthy. But someone smart enough to see us trying to cross might not have the power to cross universes themselves. Aside from a few rare exceptions, most ponies don’t have that power either.

Cadance nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “So there was someone waiting. What were they like?”

“Friendly enough for a diplomatic relationship,” she answered. It probably would’ve been easier to just lie. But she couldn’t lie, not to a frightened mother, nor to one of her good friends. “Ponies often operate with a friendship bias. We’re surrounded by creatures that responded well to us. But there is no reason to assume that other worlds will be the same. We were very fortunate that no members of my scientific team were lost before now.”

Based on the same odds, Twilight felt lucky that she was still alive. She’d crossed over more times than anyone else. She would neglect to share that little detail.

“So when do I get my daughter back?” Cadance asked. “We have permission, we know where she is… what’s left?”

Twilight produced the folded scroll, containing her plan for the first mission across, though she didn't hold it where Cadance could reach. “The first thing to remember is that we're hundreds of miles away from Ponyville. This likely translates to a significant difference on the other side.

“The first trip will just be about establishing the safety on the other side. If we do that, then we’ll try to locate Flurry. Hopefully we will find more friendly beings who are willing to share information with us. If not—”

Cadance cleared her throat. “And if not, a detachment of the Crystal Guard will be more than happy to secure her release.”

Twilight shuddered at the thought. Samaritan had been friendly with them, and it was true that they’d seen no evidence of overwhelming magical power. But he had discussed other beings, the so-called “Body Invisible.” For all they knew, his magical weakness might just indicate his position. Maybe he was the magical equivalent of a messenger for an organization with thousands of Alicorns.

But she couldn't say that to the princess, not without provoking another serious reaction.
“Let's just hope that won't be necessary,” Twilight said.

“Once we cross to the other side, a tracking spell will easily be able to point us towards Flurry Heart.” Assuming that she was still alive. Some part of Twilight had spent the entire journey wondering if this Body Invisible, knowing exactly where their intruder was, would kill her as an excuse to further entangle their two worlds.

The Changeling Invasion was bad enough. Ponies don’t need to fight a war with another world they can’t even see. Maybe leaving Spike behind was the wrong move after all. She could really use Celestia’s advice.

“So when do we go?” Cadance asked, looking around the room again. “Looks like your ponies are just about done getting things set up. Before sundown?”

“Cadance…” She closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, lowering her voice to a whisper. She’d been dreading this moment during her entire flight up. But if she didn’t say it soon, the other Alicorn might tear their mission apart the way she’d done last time. “This isn’t going to be easy to hear—but if you want the best odds for your daughter coming home safely, you shouldn’t be part of the first mission.”

Even with those few words, she could see Cadance tense. Ready for an argument, if Twilight gave her the opportunity. So she didn’t slow down. “I know I can’t possibly understand how hurt you are, and how desperate and helpless you feel. But that’s why I brought my friends, the Elements of Harmony, to come with me.

“You’re hurt and afraid. They care about Flurry too, but not so much that it affects their judgement. The safest place for you to be is right here in the control room.”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if the princess had even heard her. Princess Cadance spun abruptly, so sharp she nearly whipped Twilight with her tail. “This trip,” she said, her voice quavering. “But once you confirm where she is, once you know she’s safe… I’m going. There’s nothing in this world or that one that could keep me from Flurry.”

She stormed out, joining her guards near the exit and taking off into Flurry’s Vigil.

Twilight sighed, still feeling like the weight of the Alicorn’s anger was pressing on her. Static Variable approached slowly, his ears pressed flat to his head. “Princess, the capacitors are nearly charged. What should we do?”

“Get Rarity and Applejack in here,” she said. “We’ll be going as a small team at first. The others are welcome to come and watch, but they won’t be crossing.”

He nodded, hurrying off to obey.

Chapter 42: Diplomatic Encounter

Twilight felt the same moment of discomfort she had become accustomed to as she crossed the world boundary, feeling the otherworldly forces fade around her until her hooves settled on solid ground. For a few seconds she remained still, catching her breath. Then she turned to look over her shoulder and see how her friends had fared.

She saw more of what she'd come to expect, though their discomfort didn't reach the levels it had with Spike. She wondered briefly if there was something about dragon physiology that was particularly vulnerable to the transition.

Rarity wobbled on her hooves. She didn't fall over, though she did look a little green. "I can't say I'm excited about the return trip," she said. "Do you ever get used to this?”

Applejack only swallowed, too proud to show any of her discomfort. Though with her ears pressed flat and her tail motionless, she could make safe assumptions about it.

Twilight adjusted the saddlebags on her shoulders. One thing she hadn't brought along was a lethal weapon. Of course she still had her magic if she needed it. But at her insistence, none of them were armed. Whoever was waiting for them, Twilight intended to make sure they saw the arrival of visitors from another world as entirely peaceful.

While Twilight's friends recovered, she advanced past them, inspecting their surroundings for danger. It was certainly a different environment as she had guessed, with spectacularly tall evergreens broken in the far distance with a rising mountain range. The trees did not continue for long. Unlike in Ponyville, this area wasn't unsettled wilderness.

She advanced slowly, keeping her head tucked low in case others might be watching. She heard the telltale snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves behind her as her friends followed.

"Don't you think we should test to see if we're going the right direction?" Rarity asked. "Unless you recognize the area, Twilight."

"In a moment. I'd like to look at this." She slowed as she approached the edge of the trees, peeking out from between the densest brush she could find. Through the shrubbery was a gentle grassy slope, leading to a metal fence. On the other side was a massive black street, with mansion-sized houses rising irregularly from the countryside.

Twilight was not wondering at what their purpose might be, as she had already crossed through the mirror portal once before. She knew what to expect from the gigantic metal vehicles that came roaring down the road.

Twilight didn't catch what Applejack's specific profanity was, but at Rarity's gasp she could guess it must've been quite colorful. Finally the farmpony recovered, clutching at her chest with one hoof.

"What in tarnation was that?" Applejack asked, retreating as far from the treeline as she could. "I've seen a horseless carriage before, but never anything so darn huge. How do they get metal moving so fast?"

Rarity shook her head. "It does seem quite inconsiderate to be traveling at such a speed. What if someone were to be wandering across the street or pulling the cart on their own? They could be trampled!"

Twilight shrugged, guiding them back to the treeline. Though she anticipated they would soon be meeting the natives of this place, she did not think it would be wise to accelerate that timetable. She hesitated a moment, fiddling around with her saddlebags until she could recover the tracking spell from inside.

She held it in her magic, then waited as it pivoted. Given that they traveled directly to the corresponding point in this other universe, she expected only a slight deviation, a gentle tug towards their destination. The stronger the pull, the greater the distance. Yet the tracking spell tilted violently to one side, pointing in the same direction she'd expected, but far more harshly. For a few seconds she stared, then pushed the tracking spell manually aside and watched with growing horror as it returned to its original configuration.

"Judging from your expression, that ain't what you were expecting," Applejack muttered. "Is there something wrong with that spell?”

Before she answered, Twilight closed both eyes and concentrated a moment, verifying the integrity of the spell. Sure enough, it was as perfect as the moment she'd cast it. "No, it's nothing wrong with the spell," she admitted. "It appears to be something wrong with our preconceptions. Flurry Heart was supposed to be here, but she's moved." Then again, the young princes could've been killed. The fact that the tracking spell worked at all was enough that she wouldn't complain.

"Does it seem like that individual you mentioned earlier might have moved her once he realized we were coming?" Rarity asked. "Not that I would make an accusation like that without evidence, but if you thought we were already going the right way..." She trailed off, looking grim.

Twilight nodded. "It's possible. But at the distance we were originally measuring, I wouldn't know for sure whether she had been moved. It's possible she was sent north months ago, but because I held the tracking spell we couldn't verify it."

Twilight had prepared for this eventuality. There was a remote chance that Flurry Heart would have been killed. In that case, her role would be to investigate the circumstances of her death and if possible, to extract justice.

"Now we have a choice before us," Twilight said, turning to face her friends. "We can either return to the Equestrian side and make further measurements, possibly traveling much further north. Or we could travel to the marked point of Flurry’s last known location, not far from here." She hesitated a moment, then pulled a map from her saddlebags and held it out in her magic.

After referencing the mountains and making another few measurements with her compass in the sun, she pointed to a place not far away, just up a nearby street.

It was impossible to say from this distance, but it looked as if it perfectly matched the location of one of the large houses along this road. "Flurry Heart was last measured at that position, likely inside that house. We could travel and ask the owners what may have happened to her.”

Applejack considered a moment. "Didn't you say something about traveling to other worlds being dangerous?" she asked. "Maybe it would be best to lay low."

Rarity shook her head, indignant. "Nonsense, darling! We're retrieving a lost child. No one with any heart would refuse a request for assistance. I say we march straight up to them and ask for directions to wherever Flurry has gone."

Twilight nodded her agreement. “If only because our arranged return to Equestria isn't for another hour. It's either hide in these bushes, waste my emergency return crystal, or investigate and see what we can find. Given who's waiting for us on the other side, I'd vote that we retrieve as much information as we can.”

"All right, sugarcube. You keep that magic of yours ready just in case."

Together they set off, breaking the treeline and skirting the edge of the hill. Twilight hesitated as they arrived at the fence, which easily reached the height of either of her friends.

Her horn glowed for a moment, and a ramp appeared in the air, just strong enough to walk on. Applejack took one sidelong glance at Twilight's projection, then jumped the fence in a single running leap. She cleared to the other side without so much as a hoof scraping the edge of the fence.

Rarity and Twilight made it across with more dignity, though less flair.

The locals, by contrast, were far less graceful. As Twilight landed on the other side, she heard a terrifying squeal, so loud and high pitched that Twilight jumped by reflex, hanging in the air in a low hover. Her horn glowed with reflexive power, but she didn’t let it out yet.

One of the gigantic metal vehicles slid to a stop right beside the pavement, choking vapor rising from its tires. Rarity and Applejack retreated from the vehicle, with Applejack spun on her heels, ready to buck the thing back.

The windows slid down, and Twilight got her first glimpse inside. Again she was reminded of her own trips through the mirror portal, though there were some differences in proportion. The legs weren’t quite so long, and she saw no sign of cutie marks.

They did have some of the same habits, though. The person at the wheel, an older male, removed his phone from a pocket and held it up. There were several others in the vehicle with them—an older female, and several foals, all with similar shades of skin. “That’s a horsie,” proclaimed a foal, nowhere near old enough for her cutie mark. “How is she flying, Mommy?”

We crossed without the mirror. We must look very strange to them.

Twilight landed on the pavement, looking up into the open vehicle just as another squealed to a stop behind it, horn blaring. “Hello there!” Twilight said, waving an energetic hoof. “I was hoping you might be able to direct me to another Alicorn like myself… a foal about one month old now? I think she may’ve been here until recently.”

She raised one hoof, taking a few steps towards the open window. “Please, her mother is very worried about her. Your directions would be extremely helpful.”

The driver answered with a roar of acceleration, and the motorcar zoomed away down the road. It bangedloudly up onto the sidewalk for a second, then back onto the road with a metallic grinding. Twilight watched it spray sparks from underneath before getting under control and roaring away.

“Twilight, dear, I don’t believe they’re going to be terribly cooperative with us. Perhaps we should make a change of plans?”

Twilight backed away. The horseless carriages were piling up, a few bumping into each other. She could see flashing lights from the end of the road, still far off. She could take an educated guess about what those were for.

“She’s right,” Applejack added, turning and darting back over the fence. She raised her voice, calling over her shoulder. “These folks don’t seem like they’ll be friendly with strangers. Seems like they ain’t seen ponies before.”

Of course they haven’t. Star Swirl’s mirror forced visitors to look like the locals. Maybe he had good reasons for that. Together they retreated from the road. A few of the locals were climbing from their cars, pointing in Twilight’s direction. More phones, and a few even flashed bright enough for her to see through the overcast sky. Cameras?

“Look, over there!” someone yelled, pointing. “Petting zoo animals, maybe?”

“Those look like wings!”

“Someone call animal control.”

By the time they reached the treeline, Twilight was already adjusting her necklace around her neck. “Get close!” she yelled, urgent. “I’m using my emergency return!”

Applejack and Rarity obeyed without question—they knew Twilight well enough to know that she wouldn’t make silly demands for no reason. “What do you reckon we’ll do?” Applejack asked, head swiveling as oversized footsteps began climbing the hill. The locals didn’t intend to just let them leave, apparently.

They didn’t threaten us, they just seem curious and afraid. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Not just walk back across and expect them to help us next time. I think I need to call Thorax.”

There was a loud crack, and the emergency-crystal shattered. Light rose around them, hot enough that the leaves beneath them were scorched and the trees went blasting backward. Within moments, the forest was empty again.

Chapter 43: Impermanence

Fay's magic had reached far, transforming most of the internal space in the Lodge and leaving nothing of the objects there before behind. Her computer, mercifully, was spared, but this was the only good news. Their bedroom was right through the wall, and was completely transformed by the effects.

The world that Fay created was fully enclosed, blocking off the open ceiling and the hidden cameras she had known were up there watching. Like the stables, the spaces Fay's magic carved out seemed to have a distinct purpose. The new additions were centered around a bedroom, one that was big enough to swallow several of the lodge's other spaces.

It looked like something right out of the richest royal estate, or maybe the palace of a dictator somewhere. Dark woods, elegant twisting spires of clear crystal, and gemstones set into the furniture. The new bedroom had an oversized crib in one corner, with blankets matching Fay's own colors. Vast front doors led to a hallway that melted awkwardly back into the faux wood barricades Edgar had used to divide the Lodge in sections.

"Everything's gone," Kara said, slumping down on the side of the oversized bed. She'd opened every gigantic dresser and cupboard. There were a handful of strange objects inside, but none of them were their belongings. No clothes, no pictures, no diary. Nothing had survived.

Kyle moved slowly, conscious of the shivering weight on her shoulders with every movement. Fay had cried for hours before she finally quieted down. Still, she refused to fall asleep, or be anywhere apart from Kyle anymore. There was no telling how long the baby would take to recover this time.

She can't think I wanted this to happen, can she? "I'm sorry, Kara. I didn't..." What could she even say? She had no more control over the baby than her grandfather or the wizard working for him.

Kara's eyes were bloodshot, and she looked on the edge of tears herself. But she didn't cry. For all they knew, her new biology might not even let her cry.

Is this where you turn against us too, Kara? You think this is Fay's fault? Kyle's mind raced through every potential defense she could think of, though needing to try felt absurd. Fay was a baby, she didn't know what she was doing! Just like with transforming Kara, it wasn't her fault. She'd been forced into it by one of Grandpa's people upsetting her.

Kyle needn't have bothered. "We can't let them keep doing this," Kara finally said. She flopped onto her back on the plush carpet, which was woven into the shape of a crystal-looking heart flanked with gold. Maybe that symbol meant something in the place Fay came from, but neither of them could know for sure. "You're tending to an atom bomb. While we're trying to carefully get to know her and ease her into accepting us, they're just throwing firecrackers into her face to see what happens."

She groaned, covering her face with one transparent hoof. "What the hell do we do now? Is everything Edgar does just gonna make things worse?"

Maybe. Kyle opened her wings, nudging gently at Fay with a hoof. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

The little horse opened one eye, watching her. She closed it again a second later, her whole body shuddering. Maybe she was finally tired enough to get some sleep.

"I'm sorry," Kyle said again. She'd lost track of how many times she'd said anything like it. There was no telling if the foal even understood the concept.

Kyle walked around Kara to the crib. Like everything in the space made of sturdy rock, it was perfectly sized for a pony, with sides raised high enough to prevent her from rolling out accidentally. Unlike the practical model Fay had recreated in the stables, this one was wrapped with golden metal. Maybe it was the real thing. Given what that might mean, Kyle hoped very much it wasn't.

At first Fay continued to cling to her back—but she'd been there long enough that she was finally wearing out. With a little coaxing, Kyle levitated her up and off, settling her into bed as gently as she could. The baby instantly reeled, wrapping her forelegs around one of the blankets.

Kara kept her distance, her voice soft. "Do you think all this is from... where she's from?"

Kyle watched Fay for a few seconds in case she was about to start crying again. Only when her breathing shifted subtly into sleep did she finally turn for the door. The architecture wasn't all that different from Earth standard, all things considered. There was a light switch just like the stable, that covered some subtly glowing crystals with a metal shield.

She hesitated by the door, settling it shut only when her sister had followed her out. "I can't think of any other explanation. If it was wild and different every time she did it, then maybe it might be... her imagination or whatever. But that's not how this is."

She tapped one hoof against the wall, feeling the intricate molding, and the series of artistic cuts in the glass, so that light would shine partly through and made the wall seem to glow. "She's smart enough to make all this, makes me wish she was smart enough to change us back."

"Seems like things only go one way," Kara whispered. She walked out into the half-destroyed kitchen. The fridge was gone, but they still had a soda dispenser. The table had been sliced almost in half, and now lay on its side without most of its legs. "The more people poke Fay, the more of the world changes into the place she came from. She might be like... the beginning of the apocalypse."

"No." Kyle hesitated, her empty glass still under the fountain. Out here, the lights had been dimmed to simulate night—though she'd been underground for so long that she couldn't have said if it was night or not. The longer their grandfather kept them here, the more control over their perception of time he would have. "Not a chance. She just wanted to eat. Every time she does this, it's always because she's hurt somehow. Or she's scared, or just needs something. She could be blasting her magic out every day, and she doesn't."

Kara shrugged, sliding past Kyle to the glasses. She began adding sodas at random, until she'd produced a sugary mess.

"Do you think she's too dangerous to keep around, Kara?" She met her sister's eyes, feet away. "What if a magical genie showed up who would change us back, if we sacrificed the baby first?" The prospect wasn't as absurd as it sounded, given what had happened today. Despite all Grandpa's promises of gentleness with Fay, his people kept making things worse.

Kara took a long sip of the absurd concoction, draining it down her throat. Kyle half expected to see it trickling through her, but of course she couldn't. She wasn't being drained right now, so she wasn't transparent. She set the glass down a second later, banging it against the counter. "I want to say I'd do it," Kara said. "I should be able to say it. After everything she took from both of us."

She circled around to the empty hallway, looking back. "I flip that question backwards. What if we couldn't change back without killing her? Ultimately..." She held up her glassy, transparent leg, flexing it. It strained and squeaked under the pressure, obviously not meant to move. The more time passed the more of it seemed alive, though the effect hadn't yet made it to her knees.

"I had more to lose than you did," she went on. "I was going places. I was gonna do some amazing things. But I don't think I could get to any of those places if I killed a baby."

She advanced, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I'm not saying this is true, Kyle. But you might have to face the fact that Fay really is dangerous to the whole world. Hurting her so we can get our old bodies back is selfish, and I wouldn't do it. But what if it was her or the world?"

"It won't come to that," Kyle said. She couldn't meet Kara's eyes anymore, even so. Just because she didn't want that to happen didn't mean it wouldn't. I'll ask Monday. They’re the expert.

A ringing sound echoed through the intact half of the housing area—a phone. Kyle barely even recognized the sound at first. They didn't exactly get many calls down here. She followed it into the little office space, where a landline sat beside the laptop computer, with oversized buttons and handles suited for the elderly and other movement impaired.

She pressed the speakerphone button to answer, given Kara was right beside her. "Yes?"

She shouldn't have been surprised to hear her grandfather's voice. "Kyle, is that you?" He barely waited for a response. "I just heard about what happened. I just wanted to make sure everyone is alright. How are you doing? Is your sister okay?"

"I'm fine," Kara answered, before Kyle could open her mouth. "I'm not sure how many more bombs I can survive, though. The people who work for you really like to kick the anthill."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Akiko assured me the process would be merely observational. There were not going to be any spells cast on the baby today. Was I lied to?"

"N-no," Kyle admitted. She wanted to throw Akiko under the bus after causing this. But nobody had been hurt, somehow. She probably didn't deserve that. "But she wasn't very good about taking the hint. Fay didn't like her magic, but she just kept going and going until she... exploded."

Edgar clicked his tongue, dissatisfied. "I'm told there were no injuries. The property was seriously damaged, but none of my people were harmed. Is the specimen unhurt as well?"

"Fay's fine," Kyle said. "Physically, anyway. If she keeps getting traumatized, I don't know if she'll tolerate being kept down here. I'm sure you have enough cameras to see what happened. I have no way of stopping her if she decides she wants to get out. I know we look the same, and I know I'm older—but her magic is so much more powerful than mine they're barely in the same zip code. I can't protect you."

"No one is asking you to," Grandpa said, not missing a beat. "You're children. You're enduring this process far better than most adults. Continue to cooperate with us, and we will maximize your chances of being returned to humanity. That is all we ask."

Cooperate. Kyle ground her teeth together, frustration building. "Fay isn't safe to test anymore," she said. "Please tell your wizard to run all her tests on me. The information might not be as good, but I'm not an atom bomb. I can control my magic. Leave the baby out of it."

There was another long pause, long enough that she began to wonder if Edgar had already hung up. Finally he said, "You're asking a lot from me, Kyle. Do I perform the dangerous magical experiments on the monster who attacked the people I care about, or my own grandson? I know your parents and I have never seen entirely eye-to-eye, but that doesn't change how much I care about all of you. I won't put you in danger."

"Blasting Fay puts us in even more danger," Kara added hastily. "This time she transformed your space into her space. What if she turned us into rocks? I'm already halfway there."

He was silent again—long enough that Kyle thought of something just as important. "Speaking of Mom and Dad, could you tell them to call us again tonight? It isn't great being stuck in here. I think we'd both feel better if we got the chance to see them. Even if... right after wild magic leveled the place isn't the best time to see them in person. A Skype chat would be great."

"I'll tell them," Grandpa said. "Promise. You two stay safe in there." The line went dead.

Chapter 44: Assistance Route

Their parents did call a little later, though the conversation was brief and not particularly reassuring. Mom and Dad expressed sympathy over what had happened, but gone were the promises that they would arrive soon.

"Edgar says it may not be safe for a while," Dad said. "You know him well enough to know that he'll get his way. There was an explosion, wasn't there?"

"Sorta," Kara answered. "It wouldn't have happened if he didn't send someone to mess with the baby. It was just like with me all over again. They're lucky none of them got turned into horses."

Their parents watched the camera, oddly subdued. Mom rested one hand on the screen. "You two take care of each other. We'll be up there to see you as soon as we're allowed. But you were always tough.” That was it.

Fay didn't wake again for her evening meal as usual. That left Kyle feeling cramped and bloated, but she could cope with one missed meal. Any more than that, and she'd have to relieve the pressure some other way. But if I have to ask for one of those machines from Grandpa, I'll die of embarrassment first.

Kyle made her way over to the laptop late into the evening. She hadn't technically finished her new spell, though she now had some ideas for what to do. Maybe she should sleep, as Kara was already doing, but it felt like her world was rapidly decomposing around her.

Akiko is never going to do this for us. Every time she tries something it goes badly. At least if she kept up her present record; things got progressively worse in each successive attempt. A few weeks down the road, they would probably all die in a fiery explosion. Whatever we do, I'll have to figure it out myself.

Monday hadn't given her any of the pieces necessary to make a transformation spell. But given Grandpa had wizards working for him, maybe changing back would be a bad idea. Maybe the smartest thing to do was make herself as strong as possible as fast as possible.

After seeing what Akiko did, only one possible spell came to mind: a weapon. Maybe they could use it to break out of the Lodge, and flee into the forest.

She still wasn't convinced it would ever be necessary. Maybe Edgar really did have their best intentions at heart, but his people were just a little clueless. Or maybe they should've realized they'd been trapped in jail this entire time.

At least in some ways we're better off to be here. If Fay did that at home, the house would probably collapse. Or else be transformed enough on the outsides that the neighbors would see and the authorities would be there.

But the more Grandpa pushed, the more Kyle doubted that things were necessarily better than just letting the government get involved. Just because first contact went bad in all the movies didn't mean it would do that in real life, right?

Monday sounded like they wanted Kyle to memorize all the early runes, even the ones she hadn't used. She skipped that step now, focusing only on the ones that would help with her makeshift weapon.

There was a section here for application of force, like what she did to levitate things with her horn. Maybe she could take those symbols and apply some instantaneous acceleration?

Even if Monday doesn't come to help, we could use this.

Kyle scribbled out the spell on a single sheet of notebook paper, erasing and crossing things out and moving sections around. But she didn't want to cast it out in the open. Once Fay woke up, she'd try it in the converted space, where cameras couldn't reach. I still trust you, Edgar. But I don't want you to know what I can do.

If it worked, Kyle could memorize this spell just like the light one, adding one more tool she could call on. What else could her basic symbols teach?

Once she'd checked and rechecked the spell itself, Kyle typed up a quick email, explaining everything that had happened with Fay and the appearance of Akiko.

She finished with “You said we may have to defend ourselves. My homework assignment will be a spell I hope to use to protect myself if I must. I'll send a copy once I test it and make sure it works, I don't want to look like an idiot. But if you want to send me the pieces for transforming my sister and I back to normal, maybe you should. We might not have long before Akiko blows us up."

It might be a little dramatic—but she'd seen the need on Akiko's face. She had kept that scanning spell going until the last possible second, even while Fay's wild magic was already lashing through the Lodge, transforming everything it touched. That level of commitment to an experiment was insane.

She slept uncomfortably—as much because Fay hadn't eaten as because of her fears of what might come next. Was a magical pen-pal sending tips really going to be enough to teach them a way out?

At least the new bed was comfortable—finally she had something to sleep on that had the right level of firmness for her massive body, with blankets that always felt cool against her coat and never caught on her hooves. It was so big that she didn't even mind sharing it with Kara on the other end—though if they'd fallen asleep at the same time, it probably would've been awkward.

She woke to Fay's cries in the early morning—she was hungry, even more than usual. She took the baby out into the hallway, searching for an intact cushion to rest on while she fed her. Fay didn't look like she was still upset. But that didn't mean she couldn't hold a grudge.

A half hour later she'd finished. Instead of exploring the new space, Fay took Kyle over to her crib, lifting her toy ferret out from inside.

It looked the same as the one that had been in the nursery. Though many of the other parts of the master bedroom were luxury beyond common description, Fay's toys hadn't changed.

Fay levitated the little doll down into her hooves herself, squeezing it tightly up against her chest. She glanced only nervously up at Kyle, and instead of her usual energetic self, just watched her.

"I won't let them do that again," she promised. "It wasn't supposed to be so hard. They were just trying to learn more about you, that's all."

Fay didn't react. At least she didn't run away, or otherwise act sour with her. She followed Kyle, keeping her toy with her. She doesn't hate me. She doesn't feel safe anymore. It's exactly the opposite.

She wasn't sure how to read alien horses, but animals made plenty of sense—Fay no longer felt safe in the Lodge. Kyle couldn't blame her.

At least her grandfather hadn't disabled their power, or their internet access. But I don't know for sure that he isn't somehow listening to all of this.

Kyle took a little longer than usual to go over the laptop before she checked her email. It had been a long time since she ran her old security tools, but they were still installed. Nothing was out of the ordinary. But did that mean she was safe, or just that her grandfather's people had better software than a few free utilities?

There was nothing to do short of asking—if she trusted Grandpa enough to answer truthfully, she could trust him not to spy on them.

When she finally called up the courage to check, she was somewhat unsurprised to see there was a message waiting for her.

Its content, however, was anything but reassuring.

Kyle, Apprentice, whatever. Listen to me.

I'm completely out of my fucking depth here. I had no idea the scope of this thing—but now I do, and we're in trouble. I know you're hoping for me to tell you not to panic, but I can't. Panicking might be the right reaction.

I intended to talk to a contact of mine with the Consensus yesterday. We've been covertly hunting for you, or something I think was you, since this whole thing started. I wasn't sure yet if I were going to tell them I'd been in touch with you the whole time, or maybe lead them off your trail if it looked like they weren't going to be on your side.

It's irrelevant. The giants are in the playground now, and all we can do is look up and stare.

I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you. Let's just say that there's regular wizard types like me, and then there's people so far above us that we're like gnats. They're the invisible masters—so big and important that anything they want is probably impossible for the rest of us to understand.

I wouldn't tell you about them if they weren't involved. The Consensus says orders just came down for everyone to stop. No interference. We let it happen. If we try to stop it, they'll nuke the whole thing and everyone involved.

What do we let happen? That's the scariest part. It's been all over the news. Sightings of these weird... creatures. Horses with extra parts and strange colors, which walked right up to ordinary motorists and apparently talked to them?

Forces it would take too long to explain are already trying to make the whole thing go away. They're trying to explain it as viral marketing for a new kids’ movie—reviving some dead eighties property, details don't matter. What does matter is where these creatures were seen.

What followed was a few Google Maps photos, zoomed out far enough to show ten square miles or so. But Kyle didn't need nearly that much space to see the important part. It was right down the street from his house—less than a mile, depending on where in the circle she was trying to connect.

I think you know where this is. None of the witness accounts are consistent, and I'm pretty sure powers above mortal are trying to discredit this as fast as they can. But there was at least one account of them asking for a baby.

You were worried that maybe your little alien was here to bring the end of the world. I can't say she is, I haven't even seen her. But I think her kind have finally missed her, and they're coming. Unicorns, from a realm where they never went extinct. Maybe even where they're the dominant form of life. Not sure. They didn't attack anyone, and that's a little weird for unicorns. No way everyone on that motorway was pure of heart.

I'm not.

But you might need help. I think I'm going to do something fucking insane. As an interesting fact, did you know that our bond forms a powerful sympathetic connection that always allows me to feel the path to you? It works in both directions, but you won't know how to use it.

There's no time to send you any more spells. Once I'm done typing this, I'm getting on a plane.

My final lesson as your master is this: any magic, no matter how powerful, can be ground out with a counter-spell. Study the runes marked with death as hard and fast as you can. I didn't give you anything to kill people, but you should be able to figure out how to kill magic. In your next few weeks, that will probably be far more important.

Monday

PS: I've never heard Akiko's pseudonym before. But working with regular people is sketch as hell. If your grandfather is near her unprotected, she could blast him into paste. He must have something big over her to get her to work for him. If you figure out what it is, you could get rid of her if you must.

Chapter 45: Masking

Twilight rarely had cause to remember the time leading up to the return of Nightmare Moon. But looking back on those few months now made them feel almost quaint by comparison.

Back then, she had known Equestria was about to collapse under a terrifying invasion. As Celestia's personal apprentice, she had easily obtained an audience with important ponies across Canterlot. But despite their politeness and enthusiasm, they'd barely even listened to her. Only the princess herself had been willing to hear her out—because of course, Celestia knew what was about to happen.

But now that the stakes were far lower—with a single pony at risk, instead of their entire civilization—she found there was almost no resource she could not have. Did she want to move the mirror portal up north to study? It arrived in less than a day. A dozen references in transformation magic, including Equestria's current foremost expert? Not even a question.

Would I do things any differently if my child were at risk? But however much Twilight doubted Cadance’s continued competence to lead, it was hard to argue with her methods. Without the vast expense of time and resources, Flurry Heart might not be recovered for years.

Flurry's Vigil had plenty of large research buildings, almost too many of them. It seemed more like the crystal ponies Cadance brought had been given her same access to unlimited resources, and been told to bridge the gap as fast as possible. Most hadn't known what they were doing, so there were lots of empty labs with the same early steps figured out. She cleared away the half-finished copy of the mirror portal, and made way for the real thing.

Of course she wouldn't be traveling through it—as much as the world on that side made more sense, it wasn't where Flurry was located. Rather, Twilight removed the thin metal skin from around back, exposing the spells that made it up to detailed scrutiny.

This time it wasn't the portal that she needed to copy, though. Equestria had grown beyond the understanding of ancient Starswirl, building on his foundation. But they didn’t just need to get across to the other side.

Even a small number of locals had brought them to a halt, terrified and uncomprehending. There was no chance they would be able to do a meaningful investigation if they had crowds of staring people following them everywhere they went. And if being seen by so many people upset the Body Invisible, they might revoke their invitation.

Once that happened, it would be a war. Cadance wouldn't take no for an answer.

It took Twilight a full day to extract the spell, and another to reproduce it. Transformation magic wasn't entirely unknown to her—but every other time she'd used it, the process just converted one Equestrian being into another. This was something else.

"How long do I have to stay like this?" Rainbow shifted nervously back and forth inside the spell's circular casting field, her nearly hairless body covered in goosepimples. She shivered, wrapping both arms around her bare chest. "And can I get a blanket? These things are not very good with cold."

A laboratory aide rushed to obey—most of them just hovered in the corner of the room, conscious of the importance of the study taking place within but having no idea how to help.

While within the field, Rainbow Dash had become an exact copy of her mirror-portal self, right down to the cyan skin and multicolored hair. For reasons Twilight did not fully understand, no clothing had appeared when she stepped inside. But that was a taboo of the other world, not Equestria, so it didn't concern her much. Rarity could probably whip them up something once she had measurements.

"Until Thorax gets here," Twilight said. "He should have landed already. If I know Cadance, he'll be rushed straight here."

The enchantment circle was at the center of a raised stone pedestal, the same one Cadance’s scientists would've used to build a portal if they ever finished it. An entirely mundane mirror stood within, along with a few stolen cushions for Rainbow to sit.

"I mean, I'm sure the changeling is the expert on this... but isn't this close enough?" She stopped beside the mirror, glancing up and down at her reflection. "I look the same as those aliens on the other side, don't I? Too tall, too thin, no wings... at least we know why Flurry Heart made it. These things are too weak to be dangerous."

"It might seem the same," Twilight interrupted, before her friend could accidentally say something that would make its way to Cadance’s ears. "But the proportions seem off. I saw a few of them get out of their cars—their legs weren't so long, and their waists weren't as narrow as yours. Also maybe your skin is the wrong shade? That might not matter, we only saw a few. They might have the same range as the mirror-portal universe."

She had a few drawings sketched, recreating their proportions from memory as best she could. Rarity had added most of the details, outlining rough measurements that she had apparently memorized just by looking at their clothes. Twilight could only be grateful for the help.

"Psh, doesn't seem like a big deal to me. Just put on some big dress or whatever so they can't see too much. Rarity would love an excuse to make dresses."

"Technically I think she already started. She just won't be able to get exact until she can measure how the spell will actually behave."

The doors banged open, and several Crystal Empire soldiers emerged. They were marching in tight formation, around a single individual so small and shy that Twilight could barely see him. Despite Thorax's apparent welcome into the Crystal Empire, the army clearly was not going easy on him. "Here is your assignment," someone said. "Do not try to leave without your escort."

"I won't!" Thorax said, annoyed. "You're worried about nothing, I'm here to help!"

But the guards were barely even listening. One dropped her spear, several others stared. "What in Celestia's name is that?"

"Who," Rainbow snapped, before any of them could move. She stalked forward towards the edge of the platform, arms folded. "I'm still Rainbow Dash. Just... helping Twilight with the weird spell for when we cross back over. I'm gonna have all the practice, so I'll be faster and stronger than Applejack." She trailed off, mostly talking to herself at that point.

The strangeness of it was enough for the soldiers to move away, letting Thorax slip through unmolested. He approached the spell, holding out one hoof to the edge. "That is a remarkable species. I've been lots of things, and I've never seen anything like that. I don't even think the old Queen would recognize that."

"Probably not." Twilight greeted him with a polite hoofshake, gesturing in at Rainbow with her other hoof. "This species is from another universe. They call themselves 'human.' But so do lots of creatures that look almost identical. That's... part of why I asked for you to come here."

Her ears flattened, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. She didn't know Thorax well, and she certainly couldn't read emotions like he could. But she didn't need powers to recognize that her expert hadn't had a pleasant trip. "I thought they would just give you an airship ticket or something. They weren't supposed to drag you here like a prisoner. I'm sorry. Stay with my friends from now on, we'll make sure that doesn't happen."

"Yeah..." Thorax's transparent wings buzzed. "It's not like I'm not used to it from ponies. But I feel like the soldiers get a little worse every month."

They feel like something precious was stolen from them. Instead of mourning and moving on, Cadance has the whole city focused on it. Preparing for war against nopony. "Well, I only had a few questions for you. Rainbow, could you pose for us? Maybe spin around so Thorax can see?"

"Sure, whatever." Rainbow's face flushed, something far easier to see on human skin. "Just don't think I'm here to perform. I'm getting an advantage for when we cross again."

Thorax watched closely, his strange insect eyes unblinking. "Very unusual. So little magic compared to a pony. But I think I can... I assume you want me to copy her for something?"

Before Twilight could answer, Thorax changed. It looked nothing like a pony passing into the spell—the strange green magic of changelings was an entirely different phenomenon. Soon Rainbow had a twin, completely indistinguishable from her right down to her hairstyle and nervous posture.

"There. Not so hard. Easier than being a rock."

Rainbow stared, eyes widening. "Even when I look like an alien, that's weird."

"That's not the reason I asked you here." Twilight took a few steps to the side, towards her workbench and the many human sketches. "Look at these, then look at Rainbow. Notice anything?"

Thorax didn't change back, taking lengthy, uncoordinated steps over to the table. He had to reach way up to see onto it, legs hanging up over the edge. Despite their oversized legs, humans were so small. "She, uh..."

There was a flash of light, and suddenly Thorax was back, able to look back at the drawing and Rainbow clearly. "These sketches are wrong. These aren't the same species at all."

"That's why you're here," Twilight said. "If we had more time... a few months, or years... we could talk to the aliens on that side, take measurements, and work out a pony transformation spell so it was a perfect match. But Princess Cadance won't wait. We have until tomorrow morning to alter this spell here."

She levitated the spell over, settling it directly in front of Thorax. "This is what I used on Rainbow. How close can we get this to these sketches in one night?"

"Yikes," Thorax squeaked. He covered his mouth with one hoof, flushing greenish. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud. What you're asking is..."

He flipped between the sketches again, wings buzzing in a constant, low hum. "Your transformation spell here isn't the way we do it. Our powers are innate, and as much biology as magic. You could send a group of changelings across? Except I'm the only one here. I don't think I'd be very good at a secret mission."

"We would never ask you to do that," Twilight said. Some part of her had already feared an answer like this. "Maybe you could do your best to imitate the sketches? Then I could change my spell to try and copy you. It won't be perfect, but... it doesn't have to be perfect. We're not trying to copy anyone in particular, just look convincing enough that we can pass in a crowd."

"Sure!" Thorax lifted one of the drawings in his magic—the child from the car, who had called Twilight a unicorn. "They do have a lot in common. I'm sure you could at least improve your spell in a night. How much... hopefully a lot?"

"Good." Rainbow settled onto the cushion, her body wrapped up in an oversized-looking blanket. "Are you done with me? I kinda want my wings back."

Thorax meekly shook his head. "It would be better if you came back over here, uh... if you could? Please? Having you in front of me will make this easier. Changelings aren't... super big on making things from scratch. I was one of a few who learned from the queen herself. But even I'm only okay."

Rainbow groaned, getting back up. "Fine. But I'm keeping the blanket."

Author's Notes:

Hey, just wanted to share another awesome piece of fanart. We can thank Dogman15 again for having this done. Artist was StellarDusk, so props to them. Things aren't going well for Kara, but I do think this captured her image really well.

Chapter 46: Last Prep

Kyle hurried to find Kara, barely even remembering to close the message before she crossed the room. Fay followed behind her, floating lazily through the air. Kyle slowed in the doorway, waiting for her to catch up. The baby looked back in her direction, expression inquisitive.

“Don’t worry, Fay,” she said, her voice quavering. “Mommy will—” She stopped, trailing off. What was she saying? She slumped against the wall, reaching out to pull the baby against her with her wings. Fay squeaked once in protest, more surprised than anything. But she didn’t resist. Her little ferret dropped from her magical grip, bouncing to the floor. She froze there, whimpering and holding the baby up against her. Was she crying?

“Your family might be coming for you,” she squeaked. She wasn’t even sure the baby was listening, let alone comprehending. But that didn’t matter. “They should’ve been here a month ago.”

Fay squealed in her usual baby way, squirming up to rest her head up against Kyle’s knee. There was no recognition on her face, no more than usual. But she could see Kyle’s tears, and that was enough.

“Quit making that face.”

She stuck out her tongue, blowing a raspberry at her. She hesitated, apparently discovering the sound for the first time. She did it again, giggling hysterically. Kyle smiled despite herself, catching the baby before she could roll right off onto the floor.

“Something happen?” Kara stood in the bathroom door, staring at her. “Or is the middle of the hallway just the best place to hang out now?”

Kyle shook her head, struggling to her hooves. She settled Fay onto her back again, and this time the baby tolerated it. Though how long Fay’s patience would last, she couldn’t say. She gestured with one wing, and her sister approached. She leaned down, whispering. “Just got a message from Monday. Other magical creatures like Fay have been seen, in Riverside. They’re looking for her.”

Kara beamed back. “That’s fantastic news! Grown-ups of whatever she is... her family, maybe? They’ve got to know how to fix us! That’s great!” She leaned forward in an awkward hug, made even more so by Kyle’s motionlessness, and their mutual lack of arms. “Beginning of the end, eh?”

“I guess so.” Kyle’s tone was flat, but she managed to meet her eyes all the same. “Assuming they can find us here, and they’re willing to help. And the rumors are true, and…” She dropped to a low whisper. There was no telling if it made a difference. Maybe she should’ve cast her silence spell again just to be sure. But she didn’t. It wouldn’t be worth stopping to work for an hour when she wasn’t even sure Edgar wasn’t reading their email to begin with. “Even if they found us, they’d have to be allowed to get in. I dunno if Edgar would let them help.”

Kara fell silent, recognition slowly crossing her face. She bit her lip, before finally shaking her head once. “We could tell him everything. Maybe he could get in contact with them, invite them here to help.”

“Do you think we should?” Kyle met her eyes, inches away.

“Loyalty is everything,” Kara said. “If he approves, he’ll help, let them in. Maybe send someone to help them find their way here. If he doesn’t… I don’t know what Akiko can do. He might have more of them.”

“It would mean telling him about…” Something he probably already knew. Kyle helped Fay off her shoulders, levitating her there beside them. She couldn’t even say why she did it—the baby couldn’t offer her advice, she didn’t know what they were talking about. She waited anyway, half-expecting the baby to offer her input.

Fay did, sticking her tongue out and blowing another raspberry in their direction. “Well that’s not very helpful,” Kyle said, annoyed. “Do you want us to try and get you rescued or not?”

She didn’t answer.

“I think we should tell him,” Kara said. “But it’s your information. You’re the one who must explain who you’ve been talking to this whole time. And I guess Fay’s your baby. I’m just the sister who got sucked up in this whole disaster.”

My baby. Not for much longer, if the rumor was true. “Next time he visits,” she decided. “If they’re down in Riverside, it will take them ages to get up here. I’ll tell him when he visits.” He twitched, remembering something else. “Could you look after Fay for a few minutes? I want to practice some magic I worked out last night, but I think it might scare her.”

Fay was not happy to be separated. But she knew Kara, and with a little persistence, she finally let her lead them away. Kyle turned back to the bedroom, shutting the oversized door behind her and dimming the glowing overhead lights. She searched all over for a target, finally settling on a little sculpture against the wall. It looked like a bright blue heart, wrapped in coiled brass. Or maybe gold. You haven’t seen the inside of this place, have you? Is there enough money in here for you to care?

Kyle spread her spell-diagram out on the floor, aiming her horn squarely at the statue. She settled slowly onto the floor, letting her wings relax. By now she had plenty of practice casting her own spells.

She felt the energy leave her a second before she heard the crash of impact. She lifted one wing, shielding her eyes as the sculpture exploded, hissing and steaming from the point of impact. She jerked back, avoiding huge chunks of glass that glowed along their edges. The bright gold wrapping apparently connected to a core of metal through the sculpture, and it fell to the ground, torn in the center from the impact.

Now that's a spell. Kyle held still, breathing heavily from the effort of the magic. But she didn't care. Kyle gathered up her spell, tossing it into the pillow moments before Kara appeared, racing through the open doorway and looking around wildly.

"What the hell was that?"

Kyle pointed to her horn, then the pile of broken crystal on the floor. "I think I figured out how to break stuff." How long would it take to memorize that? Maybe she could scrawl out one that didn't hit as hard in case she needed to hit a person instead of a sculpture. If magic can do that to rock, what would it do to bones and skin?

"Damn." She turned to find Fay floating in the air behind her, holding her toy in her mouth. Her eyes fixed on the broken statue, confused. "I can see why you didn't want company for that. Do you need more time practicing?"

"Not until I memorize it. Then I'll have to see if I can make it work again the second time." She turned to go, ears perking as something echoed through the Lodge from nearby. It was the phone.

Yeah, should've figured someone would hear that. Kyle hurried over, scooping up Fay along the way. It wasn't like she felt invincible after doing things once—but she didn't want to leave a baby alone with broken glass.

She answered the phone the same way she had last time, with Kara just beside her. It wasn't that surprising that Grandpa would have sensors watching them. Even without cameras in the bedroom anymore, a gunshot going off in the middle of the Lodge would probably be easy to detect.

It wasn't Grandpa, though. Akiko's voice was her usual mixture of nervous fear and barely suppressed eagerness. "Is everyone in there alright?" she asked. "My protection spell just went nuts. Did anyone else just break in? I can call the guards."

"No," Kyle said. "Nothing like that, we're fine. I, uh... I kinda sorta accidentally blew something up. I was, uh—I was trying something more than just glowing with my horn. Yeah! I thought that I must have the same powers as Fay does, since I look like her. It didn't go quite the way I wanted."

"Oh, really? Pity you didn't do it where I can see. Looks like... yeah, cameras don't show into the converted space. That room is still too hot for a human crew to come in and reinstall them. What happened, precisely?"

Why should I tell you? You're the reason Fay blew up. If you didn't poke her, she would probably leave us all alone. "I knocked over a piece of art. It's not that big a deal, it can't be that different from my usual levitation. I'm sure I just knocked it over."

"That wouldn't set off this ward," Akiko argued. She wasn't confrontational exactly, but her tone brooked no argument. "It only registers magical attacks. Levitation like yours couldn't trip it by mistake. A new power is worthy of investigation. It might hint at your true origin."

Are you going to say anything about creatures like us being seen back in the real world? Maybe then I'd know we could trust you?

The answer was no. Akiko did not mention it. "It's probably good enough for my assistant and I to come and look around in the new space. You can show me what you tried to do, and the results. The new information might be critical in returning you to normal."

You don't sound like you really care about that. "It's fine," she said. "Honestly, there's nothing to investigate. We'd rather have a break after yesterday. Fay is still recovering."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. When Akiko finally spoke, her words were slow and deliberate, like she was explaining something Kyle should've understood already. "Fay doesn't have to be there, but you do. If you care at all about being changed back, then listen to me. The longer you spend in a body that isn't yours, the harder it will be to change you back.

"Permanent transformation isn't easy. The body you know you should have resists the one you do have, and eventually reasserts itself. Our alien specimen has cast spells that violate those rules. But unless she chooses to do so again, the way to change you back will have to overcome your physical inertia.

"I'm already in the drafting stages of a thaumaturgical prosthetic. When worn, it would fully return you to your original body. This device will be harder to design and operate the more complete your transformation becomes. Every day, every week, every month lowers my chances of success."

It wasn't anything like telling her that aliens were coming for Fay after all, though in a way it might do just as much to build her trust. Monday never suggested anything like that. We can't be changed back, so just have us wear something.

"Me, sure. Not Fay. Every time people try to mess with her it goes badly. You can come in and talk to me."

She scooped the baby out of the air, pushing her towards Kara. "Go on, take her out front. Just get some distance and keep her away until they're gone."

Kara nodded. Fay didn't seem terribly interested in compliance—but with a little tugging, she finally let go, looking pleading as Kara dragged her away.

"We're on our way in," Akiko said. "It's time to accelerate this, before you and Kara run out of time."

Chapter 47: Day Crew

Twilight could've spent months tinkering with this new transformation spell and the strange species that was its result. Ideally her dimensional piercing equipment would be outfitted with something like what Clover had done to the mirror portal, but more versatile, converting all who set hoof through it into the dominant species of the world they visited. Such a conversion might even fool native spellcasters, at least long enough to learn as much as they wanted and get home.

But there would be no chance for any of that now—given the urgency of retrieving Flurry Heart, they didn't even have the time to perfect the transformation into "humans."

Perfecting a transformation spell into an alien species with only a half-terrified changeling to simulate the new bodies for her was far from ideal. In the end, with Rainbow and Thorax serving as models, she was able to adjust the spell enough to match the basic ratios they had seen during their brief visit.

"Still feels like I'm going to snap off one of these little ankles," Rainbow complained, as Twilight was finalizing her spell. "Are you sure we couldn't make an exception for wings? We don't know that these humans don't have their own version of pegasus ponies. Did you say you saw some flying on your first visit?"

Ultimately she would have to create a spell that wouldn't be dispelled by the casting circle, so it could last during the whole visit. So long as none of her friends got too far away from her, the transformation could last. But leave her presence by too much, and it would unravel.

"We saw machines flying, not humans," Twilight said, letting her frustration leak through. But spelling all night and going directly into a trip to an alien world was hardly filling her with excitement. If she tried to take some time to sleep, Cadance would go instead. And possibly start a war.

"I don't even know if she could do that," Thorax said. "Not to doubt the princess, I wouldn't second-guess. But a blanket transformation spell like the one she's made is already incredible. Making it smart enough to transform some creatures one way, and others another way... I don't even know how to think of magic so powerful."

I'll have to bring you back in if we ever get the bits to start exploring the other entwined worlds full-time. Maybe changeling magic is the key to a portal that can make the explorers into anything they need to be.

"I guess we should visit Rarity?" Rainbow asked. "She has some final adjustments to make." She yawned, shaking out her lengthy arms. Rainbow had slept through much of the night, waking only occasionally when Twilight pulled her out to change the spell. But she'd stayed loyal to the mission to the end, which was all Twilight could've hoped for.

"Yes," Twilight answered. "To Rarity, and... to get Thorax situated somewhere he'll be treated with proper respect after helping us. How soon do you want to go back to the Empire?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose..." he said, shuffling a few steps away. He didn't seem tired exactly. Did changelings even sleep? "I don't think you should send me back until the mission is over, though. Even though I'm not cut-out for covert infiltrations... I had my fill of those with the swarm. But you might need to tweak the spell, or maybe you'll need to impersonate someone specific. Better just to stay here until it's all worked out."

"Thanks." Twilight waved over Gallant Gallop, one of the crystal guards she knew. "Escort Thorax here to my quarters to rest. He's not a prisoner. Your job is not to guard him, but to ensure that he's given all the kindness that I would be shown. Is that clear?"

Gallant nodded, saluting to her. "Yes, Princess. Thorax, I can show you the way. Unless there's somewhere else you'd rather go first."

"No," he answered, tone almost wistful. "Please tell me how it goes when you return, Twilight.” He stared down at his hooves, wings buzzing in agitation. "Tweaking with them so much makes me almost wish I could meet one in person, just to see how close I came without meeting one. If only the queen could see me now..."

Rarity hadn't stayed up all night, but that was probably for the best. Their outfits were nearly ready, using the size and shape of the beings from the mirror portal as a base.

Noon found the entire group assembled in the portal room again, this time looking and feeling quite a bit smaller in the huge space. It wasn't just that everything was higher up, though that part specifically didn't exactly make her eager to continue the experiment.

I'll never get used to not having fur. Seeing all her friends huddled close together, all standing on two legs—it was absolutely amazing how fast they'd mobilized. Now we just have to save Flurry Heart. If they failed now, it wouldn't just devastate her parents. In a way, all Equestria was watching.

"Explain what you're trying to do this time," Cadance instructed. She lingered near a technician, wearing a replacement spear over her back. As though she'd be coming along with that absurd thing. They had scared off that world's humans with their size and appearance alone. If they brought weapons, the woefully undersized creatures might die of fright right in front of them. "Why the disguise?"

The question made sense. With the exception of Rainbow, the others were having trouble even standing up. If they ever had to do anything serious, Twilight would have to undo the spell first.

"We followed my tracking spell here," Twilight explained. "But on the last visit, it felt like she had moved again."

"I know that much," Cadance said. "The Radiant Hope is already being prepared. The portal would be loaded as we speak, except that you insisted on taking this trip."

"We don't know why she was moved, or by who," Twilight said. "We can't win a race if that's how they're going to do this. Worse, if they know we're using a tracking spell, they could intentionally obfuscate us. They could forge false connections between Flurry and objects, scattering them across the planet. Before we resort to raw force, we'd like to ask questions."

"I just figured that if she's been here until recent, she's gotta have some mighty brave creatures keeping her safe," Applejack said. She seemed to be doing her best to show no discomfort at all in her new position. She even had a new version of her hat, albeit much reduced in size from what she normally wore.

Even so, Twilight could see her wobble when she moved, slightly unsteady with every step. It had taken Rainbow the better part of an hour to be past that. Her own passage through the mirror portal had taken about the same time before she got used to it. "All the other creatures were right terrified of us last time."

"Hopefully that means they know where Flurry went," Fluttershy added. She kept her hands in the pockets of her bright blue overalls, which was obviously meant to contrast with her soft yellow skin.

Was it weird that Twilight thought they all looked out of place without fur? It was far stranger than looking at a naked pony ever could be.

"Don't take too long," Cadance ordered. "And if you even think you need help, call. We can have soldiers there in an instant to assist you."

But the more we open a portal to the same place, the thinner our world gets. That's why the mirror only stays open for few days at a time. If the Worldgate stays open too long, we'll punch a hole that never closes.

"If it happens," Twilight said. "Unless it looks like they're trying to keep Flurry or withhold information about her, we'll probably just flee like we did last time. We're not trying to start an international incident. Just in and out."

"Which is too bad," Pinkie added. "That kid really wanted to see a unicorn for herself. We'll be disappointing her."

“Wait, how did you know that?” Twilight tilted her head to the side. “I don’t remember…”

But Pinkie only grinned back. She wouldn’t be getting a straight answer.

Crossing over didn't take long. Twilight half expected the portal-sickness to come much more severely now that she was transformed. Or worse, that the transfer would somehow deform her transformation spell. She'd slipped a copy of it into her much-smaller bag of supplies, in case she needed to recast.

But when the disorientation finally faded and she took her first steps, she found her body unchanged. Same strange bumps on her chest, naked purple skin, long legs. If anything, these new bodies were more natural to her. Less like dolls, and more like another direction that life could've gone on Equus itself, if primates had won out over equines.

They had picked the same location for their return, so the trees and shrubs were familiar to her. While her friends recovered, Twilight pulled out her tracking spell—now so large that it took up half the backpack she wore by itself. She held it in both hands, feeling the jerks as it almost pulled free of her grip.

She had almost let herself hope that Flurry was here, and her first trip's measurements were wrong. Alas. She took a few steps, feeling the pull as she walked. It didn't vary even slightly in her grip—another sign that she was far away.

Yet as she moved, there was another faint twitch from the tracking spell. It tilted momentarily to one side, pointing towards somewhere far closer. It was off in the same direction they'd gone last time, and not far away.

Then the effect vanished, and the tracker returned to pulling her far to the north.

"So what's the plan?" Rainbow asked. "We walk right up to the first alien we find and ask where they took the baby?"

"No." Twilight rolled her eyes. We're the aliens here, Rainbow. We're lucky they're friendly enough to let us take Flurry back. "She's further north. Probably way past the Empire. But there's another signal closer. It's weak... it could be left over, or it could be because somepony is trying to hide it. Either way... I think we should look."

"I still think we could a’ made the trip lookin' like ourselves." Applejack adjusted her hat, scanning the forest around them. "I know it ain't quite the same thing, but changing like this feels like we're lying to creatures. Pretending we're something we're not."

"You don't have to tell them you're really a pony," Rainbow said. "They'll be able to tell just by watching. Just try to go on all fours again, that seemed natural." She giggled, but Twilight cut her off with a harsh glare.

"We have to get going, before the princess decides to come in after us."

They set off, back down the same path they had taken last time. Twilight took the lead, with the tracking spell in both hands. Soon they were down the hill. Twilight couldn't levitate them over the fence. Not without her horn. Obviously, her magical abilities were still present—but the transformation could only take so much pressure for things that shouldn't be there before it crumbled. She didn't have a horn right now.

Presumably the spellcasters among this species had their own technique, one that didn't involve horns. But without knowing it herself, Twilight was nearly helpless in that regard. It was a good thing her friends were so resourceful, and the natives seemed so peaceful.

They reached the road, exactly where they'd found it last time. Only now instead of cars passing on either side, it was utterly deserted. If Twilight really squinted off in one direction, she could just about make out a shiny red barricade blocking off the road, and a few parked black and white cars on either side.

That's probably for the best. Now we don't have to test our transformation any sooner than we have to. "Up there." She pointed off to one side, where the road turned towards some large homes separated widely along the side. She had to really manhandle the tracking spell to point where it didn't want to go, but if she held long enough she could just manage it. With a little persistence, it occasionally twitched back to the direction they were moving.

"Before anypony notices us," Twilight added. "Follow me." She glanced both ways, then darted across the street, her friends close behind.

Chapter 48: Body Paint

Twilight needed little help to find the magical hotspot they were searching for. The closer they got, the more the tracking spell seemed to prefer this destination over others. They huddled close together, with her friends stumbling jerkily towards their destination. Only Rainbow and herself could do a passable imitation of one of the locals.

The girls will get it. If we have to stay here for any length of time, they'll get it. Unfortunately there was little reason to suspect that this would be the last leg of the trip. The tracking spell wouldn't make such a profound mistake. As they walked, Twilight considered how long Flurry would've had to stay in one place to make an impression deep enough to sense.

It wouldn't just be time. She would have to cast powerful enough magic to leave traces behind. Maybe she broke something. When this was over, Twilight and a dozen other ponies would be getting published for it. Maybe traveling across the Worldgates would change Equestria too.

She was less than happy about the sense in the back of her mind that they were being watched. It wasn't like any single individual was following them, like one of the trenchcoat-wearing villains in those novels Rarity liked. She felt the hair stand up on her neck, and saw eyes from her peripheral vision that never manifested.

There are others here looking for travelers. We made an impression the first time.

After a short distance the tracking spell took them past homes that would've fit in perfectly in the upper district of Canterlot, heavily featuring marble and stained glass. Some of the construction sensibilities were even similar, though she'd never seen anything quite as excessive as these anywhere in Canterlot. Maybe that was why they lived out here in the countryside, where they could build their own little palaces.

The spell took them towards one of these—though the house was big enough that it actually pulled them closer to one half than the other. She considered it for a moment, then turned to look back at her friends.

"This the place?" Rainbow asked, the only one who was keeping pace with her without difficulty. She stifled a yawn with the back of her arm. "Looks... a little run down."

"Don't tell them that," Rarity hissed. "We're here for information, maybe even Flurry herself. Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Nopony do anything crazy," Twilight said. "I don't feel... safe here. Oh, and stay close. The transformation spell on you won't go further than a kilometer, and probably won't make it that far. If it fails, it won't just come back when you get close again, I'll have to recast."

"Yeah, ah know," Applejack said. "We're not gonna make a scene."

The home had a towering fence of wrought iron, but the paint was flaking away in places and rust had begun to collect. The grounds were slightly overgrown. But the glass around the front was clean, and there was a car parked in the driveway.

If nobody's home, how can we get in without raising suspicion?

They could cross that bridge if it came to it. For now, Twilight strode straight up to the front doors, dodging through a gate that didn't properly close. She lifted the oversized knocker, then banged it loudly.

The others hurried to keep up with her, doing their best imitations of her casual attitude. But even Rainbow had a hard time with human body language—that would take more practice.

They waited, long enough that Twilight began to get nervous. Maybe they'd have to try breaking in? But... no, there were shapes on the other side of the glass. There was nothing for it: Twilight waved.

A figure took shape on the other side, a female human she guessed was about the age of her own parents, maybe a little younger. She opened the door a crack, staring skeptically out at her group. She froze in the doorway, staring at them in utter disbelief. She pointed a feeble finger at them one at a time.

"I think you girls must be lost. There's no sorority party happening here. Try a few doors down. This might not be the best place to be walking around in body paint."

She moved to close it, but Twilight pressed one hand on the door, putting just enough pressure on it to make it hard to close. "Please, ma'am, we're not here for a party. We're..."

She lowered her voice to a whisper, as much to make the other human feel comfortable as to make them harder to overhear. "We're here looking for a pony foal. About this big, pink with purple and blue mane. Was she here?"

Twilight wasn't the best at reading human emotions, but she was probably better than any other Equestrian alive. That was recognition on the woman's face, with a twinge of fear. The human let go of the door, stumbling backward a step. "Did Edgar send you? I'll tell you what I told the last bruisers he sent, I haven't gone to the police. Alan and I are staying out of it, just like he asked."

It was their turn for surprise. But some of her friends were faster at this. Rarity cleared her throat, nudging the door gently open with a foot, but not stepping inside yet. "We have no relation to—whoever that is. But it sounds like it would be better to have this conversation inside."

"Her family sent us," Twilight added, hopefully. There were family pictures on the wall behind this woman. Maybe that would mean something to her?

The woman's shoulders slumped for a moment, and she glanced nervously behind them. Maybe afraid of whoever might be watching this very conversation. But after a few seconds, she nodded. "Inside then."

They took the opportunity eagerly, before she could change her mind and shut them out again. Twilight couldn't let that happen now, not after clearly finding someone who had contact with Flurry. Her mother would be demanding answers when they got back to Equestria. For their sake, those answers better be good.

The stranger led them to an expansive sitting room with plenty of fancy furniture. There was a slightly worn look to the old couches and polished tables, though Twilight couldn't place it exactly. Her spell kept pointing past them, out through the back wall of the house.

There couldn't be another row of houses, could there? There's not enough room, they're too huge. The tracker says it's close.

"So, who are you exactly?" the woman asked, as soon as they were situated. "I'm Theresa. My son is the one who first found the, uh... what did you call her?"

"Foal," Twilight said. "Her name is Flurry Heart. Alicorn foal. I'm her aunt, Twilight Sparkle. These are my friends." She introduced them in turn, though only Rarity seemed in any hurry to talk to the human stranger.

Theresa reacted strangely to their names, as though she was remembering a joke with each one. "How did you know she was here?" she asked. "Not that I wouldn't welcome more information about what the hell is going on." She raised an eyebrow. "Like... aunt, you said? I should be laughing at this story."

She wasn't laughing though. She wrapped both arms around one of the musty pillows, squeezing it so hard it seemed like it might start vomiting stuffing any moment.

"This." Twilight held up the tracking spell in both hands, balancing the disk in arms that were only just wide enough to hold it comfortably. It wasn't her fault everyone here was so small! "I don't know how much you know about magic, but this is a tracking spell. This doll used to belong to Flurry, and we followed it here."

Theresa reached toward it with one hand, but pulled it back quickly. "Just like the one in the stable." She rose, tossing the pillow aside. "I wouldn't believe a word you've said, except that it seems to match perfectly. You don’t look like you're related to a horse, but everything else seems to fit. At this point I'd take advice from an infomercial if I thought it would get my kids back."

She led them through the house, past the scowling faces of ancient humans frozen in stone and wood. Twilight couldn't be sure, but she thought she could make out hoofprints in the soft wood, lingering near the stairs. But these were far larger than anything Flurry should've had, easily as wide as her hands.

Someone had tried to buff them out, with only moderate success. Rarity hesitated near the stairs as well, pointing. "Forgive me if I sound impolite, ma'am, but... these hoofprints look like they're from a grown pony, not the foal we're looking for. Are we not the first to come inquiring after the foal?"

Theresa shook her head. "You're the first ones who came looking for a baby. My father-in-law knows everything, but we came to him for help, not the other way around. My son made those, after being exposed to the baby."

"Oh dear." Rarity's face fell. "I hope you'll share all the details with us."

"Maybe I will," Theresa said. "We'll see. I'd like to hear what you can tell me. You should see the stable first—that's where my son took the baby while he was caring for her. The results speak for themselves."

She wasn't wrong. The tracking spell practically bucked itself out of Twilight's hands. This was certainly what it had sensed. Flurry's magic had recreated her Equestrian nursery here in another world.

The details were almost perfect, or close enough that Twilight’s brief memory of the place matched. She picked up a stuffed toy, the twin of the one on her tracking spell. She wanted to examine it further, but manifesting magic here would require breaking the illusion. Considering the state of this woman, she was probably better off waiting.

"Would you mind if I took this?" she asked, tucking it away. "It will be very helpful to determine the nature of Flurry's magic here."

"You said your kids were ponies?" Pinkie asked. "Is that why they wanted to help Flurry out so much?"

Theresa shook her head, expression darkening. "They are now, thanks to that—" She choked back something darker, before eventually muttering, "baby." She slumped back into the oversized nursing couch. "I'll tell you everything. But before I do, I want your word that you'll help fix my kids. I thought Edgar... I was skeptical before he sent us away. Making us lie, like we're only a few hours from coming in thanks to some imaginary quarantine... of course magic isn't radioactive. We hid them at home for a week and nobody lost their hair."

What in Tartarus is she even talking about? They were burning time, and potentially contending with other creatures just as interested in the foal's fate.

"Ah can't speak for Twilight," Applejack said, adjusting her hat with one hand. "But I'm under the impression we're not just here to bring Flurry back. Didn't you say this was about fixing things like they were? That would include... whatever happened to yer kids."

"Right." Twilight removed a clipboard from her pack, holding a pen uneasily in one hand. "Please, tell me everything. There's another mother where we come from who just wants her daughter back. I'm sure we can help you both."

Theresa nodded. She glanced nervously at the open door behind them, gesturing for Applejack to close it. Then she told them.

Chapter 49: Prototype

Kyle felt the gnawing sense that something was wrong the longer she waited. Now she had the word of Akiko, but how much had that even meant so far? Was she just wrong about the way she thought the magic would work? Or lying to get us to cooperate?

Just so long as they stay away from Fay, it will be fine. It's probably my turn to get blasted with some strange magic anyway.

She wasn't wrong to expect them to come through the office. Akiko stepped through the open doorway, a heavy case under one arm. She smiled, as though she hadn't been responsible for some of the worst of Flurry's suffering. She's like Grandpa. Cares more about us than the baby.

Maybe that was the right way to think, in an objective sense. But Kyle couldn't accept it. She might be the reason her life was ruined, but she was also just a baby. "I hope you don't mind taking me through the area the child... altered, before we try this," she said. "I would like to collect samples."

Kyle nodded absently. Taking samples from an empty room seemed far better than what Kara had been put through.

"Sure. You were here when she did it, so you know where it is. Over here." They left the open office door behind, Kyle leading Akiko to the boundary where stone changed to crystal. Akiko felt the edge with one hand, whistling at the transition.

"This isn't surprising—it's consistent with what she did to you. But It's still astounding to see power like this coming from a creature so small. Imagine what you might be capable of, with a rational thinking mind instead of the desperate instincts of a child."

They passed into the bedroom. Akiko kicked the door closed, spreading the contents of her case out on the regal desk positioned against the wall. Sample containers, just as she'd suggested. "You think I can do more than just levitate things around?"

Akiko's eyes narrowed, as she lifted a tiny sample hammer in one hand, and a vial in another. "Don't be coy with me. Your grandfather pays for others to understand this stuff—I'm one of the experts. Someone's been performing spells in here since you arrived. Given the lack of corpses or holes in the universe, I'm going to guess that someone is you."

"I—"

She raised a hand, cutting Kyle off as she stalked past her and over to the wall. She struck it a few times, chipping off bits of crystal into the vial. "I would experiment with it too. Magic is an incredible gift. The amount you've been given is... call it unfair, call it unprecedented, or maybe just unbelievable. I theorize that you're now the equal of the most powerful wizards in the world. What they have to do with centuries of experience and carefully shepherded power, you have flowing through your veins for free."

That doesn't sound like a good thing. It sounds like I'm as much of a resource as the baby is.

She should probably just keep her mouth shut and start looking for a way out. But Kyle was already on the edge of her rope, all the more thanks to the pain they'd put Fay through. "If all that's true, why would you help me? It sounds like Edgar and all the other people who make decisions would want to just keep us here forever."

Akiko said nothing for several long moments, ostensibly occupied removing a few threads from the bed. Then she settled them in place, and removed a large metal object from the case.

It was a cast iron ring, with coils of different wire wrapped around its various sections. At one point was a shard of triangular crystal, glowing from within. Several other precious stones were stuck seemingly at random around the outside, with little wires and filaments connecting them.

"I wouldn't squander that gift if it came to me," she said. "I'd embrace it. Wherever my life was going before, it couldn't be as significant as all that. Think about all the good you could do. Your grandmother died of... cancer, right? You could've cured her. Properly mastered, the magic you have now would make you one of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world. And this tool will let you keep your humanity at the same time."

She spun it slowly, aiming the crystal towards her. "Well, after a fashion. This version is an experimental solution, like a... breadboard prototype of sorts. If it works, we'll miniaturize it."

If it works. Kyle could feel the pressure of it against her horn, like an invisible heat-lamp.

"You built it already?" she asked, mouth hanging open. "How?"

"Spells can be digitally prototyped," Akiko said absently. "I don't want to get your hopes up, it is just a first attempt. Its application at this stage is quite limited, as you'll soon see."

She settled down on her haunches, glaring skeptically at it. If she looked closely, the familiar runes she'd been memorizing were all over it, but more densely packed than anything she could've put together.

Akiko might work for her grandfather, but compared to her, Kyle was a magical kindergartener. Monday hadn't even speculated about something like this. "What limits?"

"A finished prosthetic would restore you to your previous human form, possibly adjusting to match the aging you would be experiencing. This was made to be useful to you, or your sister, or any other victims of the specimen’s wild magic. It works according to the principle of equivalent exchange. It's easier if you just try it."

"How?" Kyle's suspicion faded, replaced with something far simpler. Could she really be back to normal now? Weeks, maybe months of confusion with her own body and suddenly it was all fixed? It sounded too good to be true. But she had volunteered to be the one to test things.

"Just touch the conflux of wires there at the center. Be warned, it will draw on your own internal magic to power it—a spell like this would take me weeks of preparation. With your power, you should be able to use something like this continuously for weeks without issue. If my projections are accurate."

Akiko deposited the strange device on the bed in front of her, taking a few steps out of the way. She pulled out a tablet computer, lifting a stylus in one hand. Of course you'd be taking notes. There's no privacy here.

Kyle settled herself firmly on the ground, then touched her hoof to the center and waited. There was a single frightening second where she was afraid nothing at all would happen. Maybe it was a trick, or worse—maybe this tantalizing hint of humanity would be snatched away.

Then something yanked her downward, and she fell... into herself? Air rushed past her for a second or two, then stopped just as quickly. Suddenly he felt knees pressed painfully to the floor, and the cold chill of air against bare skin. Instead of easily reaching down to the bed, his arm straining in the socket at the distance.

His head spun, but he couldn't see much of anything through a blinding curtain of blue. But how could that still be there?

Akiko was scribbling furiously behind him. He turned his head, reaching up to brush away the hair as best he could. "Careful, don't let go!" she called. "You don't have to hold the center, but please keep the prototype in contact with your body. If you let go, the illusion will fade."

Kyle took a single deep breath, fighting his embarrassment. I'm naked again. Of course I would be. I'm naked all the time. "For an illusion, this feels... very real."

That wasn't his voice. If anything, it was higher than it had been a few moments ago. More like Kara before she was changed. And there were other troubling details. His chest shouldn't be pulling him down. "Oh." He swallowed, adjusting his grip on the metal disk with one hand. He lifted slowly, turning to face Akiko. More importantly, there was a mirror behind her.

Though the intervening hair prevented anything like a good view, there was no mystery about what that reflection showed.

Kyle looked older than he should've been, though that might've just been the hips and chest. His legs shuddered, and he nearly lost his balance—but he managed to stay standing, lowering the spell as best he could. "Can I have something to wear, please?"

"We're almost done," Akiko answered, waving a dismissive hand. "That's why I shut the door, Kyle. And why we did it in here. No cameras."

She finished whatever she'd been scribbling, grinning eagerly. "Try your other hand, if you would. I'd like to know if the dexterity feels right. Maybe write something on my tablet here."

She held it up, and Kyle drew. It was strange, and he expected his fingers to glue back together as he moved them. But they didn't. His frowny face came out a little lumpy, but recognizable.

"I'm not sure what's to be disappointed about," Akiko said, pocketing the screen. "This is phenomenal news, Kyle! We have a working real time energy conversion model! More importantly, we've demonstrated that your magic and ours is compatible. This alone might be evidence of the deterministic model of thaumic expression. We didn't invent any of it, merely discovered it. Unless the universe itself is pressing you into this pattern by virtue of being here, and not wherever the specimen came from."

Kyle's hand was already starting to shake. "I didn't think—I don't know if I want this." He pointed at the mirror, then lowered it again to cover his chest. "I wasn't a girl before, Akiko."

She froze, staring at him. She stayed that way for a good long while, as though she didn't even understand what he'd just said. "Oh, you mean... sex. I warned you about that. The simplest illusion is one that maps one species to another. The specimen created you to be its mother, yes? That remains true here. It wouldn't necessarily remain true in a finished prosthesis."

She leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially. "Actually, there's no reason anything about your finished spell would need to match what you were before. With your magic, we could power any illusion we wanted. Supermodel, movie star—anyone you can imagine. That's the beauty of embracing the magic. Physical constraints are meaningless, the will is all that matters."

Kyle stared back at his reflection for a few more seconds, the weight of Akiko's words settling on him like bricks. If I had to choose what I would look like right now, could I do it?

He knew one thing for sure, he wanted to be there for Fay. But maybe that could be part of this too. She'd be hard pressed to explode all over the place if she was a human baby. And if she was, I wouldn't want to give her up. Other things weren't so bad either. Being Kara's sister meant they could be closer without feeling weird.

"I don't know if I'm ready to choose that," he said. "This feels... weirder than being a horse. If that makes sense."

"Not really." Akiko turned away absently. "But I've never been very good at people. You have time to decide, in any case. The next step will be a miniaturized version. Then we move on to tailored individual copies for you and your sister. Possibly the specimen, if it would do any good."

Kyle almost replied—then he heard the scream. Not the baby's, though maybe he wouldn't have been able to hear that through so many layers of intervening crystal. No, this was a man's scream, as though someone had just lit him on fire.

In a single swift movement, Kyle lifted his hand from the prototype, tossing it onto the bed.

The spell didn't fade immediately, as he'd expected. The world seemed to shrink as she fell back to the crystal floor, eyes wide with pain and confusion. She wanted to move, but felt so... numb. She struggled to rise, or even to scream. But the words wouldn't come.

"Oh, right, I should've warned you. There's a bit of... I guess call it sensory withdrawal. It will pass in a few minutes. But if you'll excuse me, I need to deal with the other experiment. Thanks for your help."

She scooped the prototype into her satchel and flicked the door open.

The screams got much louder as she opened the door. Not Fay—a stranger. But so close, they had to be in the enclosure.

"I'm... coming," she croaked. But she couldn't. Not right away.