Totem reaches Applebaum first, then stops. For once, she finds his inclination to focus solely on the mare physically closest to him endearing: his eyes roam over her taut muscles with concern instead of a baser intent. She can see him puzzling out how to best assist her in reaching the top.

An insurmountable challenge in her current state.

“Hey,” Applebaum starts, quiet and hesitant. Her muscles cry in agony from the strain of holding on so tight, and she feels - knows - that if she lets go with one hoof to relax for just a moment the rest might give out entirely. She turns to face the shadowed wall, resting her face against the cold and pebbly surface. “If we don’t make it, if Ah don’t make it, then-”

She stops when a hoof firmly presses against her muzzle. “Hey, none of that.” Totem gently turns her head and strokes along her chin, taking full advantage of her inability to swat his hoof away. She finds she really doesn’t mind so much. “We’re going to get you patched up, and then we’ll be well on our way.”

“But…” Applebaum trails off, glancing down. She gulps; the easily pierced walls are perfect for the stabbing appendages of the manti trailing them, their dozen long legs steadily skittering along. Radiant Hope has nearly made it to them, taking awkward hops to get higher, but at least her vine seems sturdy enough. Tempest Shadow guards the rear, somehow switching between climbing and taking swipes with the long pole in her mouth, or swapping to a hoof for better reach. “They’re gonna kill us!”

“No, they’re not gonna kill us,” Totem counters in a bright, wistful voice. He sounds like they’re relaxing at the top of the library in Canterlot, staring at passing clouds and guessing what shape the pegasi are modeling that day. “You’re gonna get young planted in your belly!” The green of Applebaum’s eyes shrink to pinpricks, the remainder filled with dread. “You’ll watch as they grow inside you, and eventually force their way out and feed on you!”

“Totem!” Applebaum shrieks, wishing she could cover her ears against the horrors, or her eyes against the grisly sight. “Ah don’t wanna hear what’s gonna happen if they get me!”

“Get you?” Totem sounds genuinely confused. “That’s what’s gonna happen if we get out! I mean, eventually.” He pauses for a brief moment, hesitantly asking, “Unless you... don’t want foals?”

“That’s!-” Applebaum’s forehead goes to her bad hoof, leaving her scrabbling against the stone, Totem helping hold her up. She thunks her head against the hard surface when rubbing hurts too much, wishing the pain was a better distraction. “That’s not how you describe such a beautiful event!”

“Oh yeah?” Totem snorts, his muzzle a thin smirk, like he’s glad he’s distracting her. “How would you describe it?”

Applebaum doesn’t want to answer him, or listen to whatever else he says. Instead, she watches Tempest Shadow engage the highest climber. Maybe if the unicorn loses she’ll drop off and aim her head at the ground. Then they can do whatever they want with her, but she won’t feel it.

But every strike rings true, Tempest true to her namesake, a whirling storm that parries the seeking thrusts and caves in the weaker joints when they stab at her exposed hindlegs. The monster pushes higher, vicious mandibles attempting to close the distance, only for a solid strike to land between two of its many eyes. There is a loud squishing sound, and a spurt of hemolymph, and the whole creature goes limp and tumbles down, crumpling into a pathetic heap in the shadows at the base of the cliff.

Their other two pursuers, given the choice between a similar fate or taking an easy meal, even if it is their brethren, choose the latter. Sharp hisses guard their retreat, twice as fast going down, until they are replaced by the crunch of crushing chitin.

“That was awesome!” Applebaum exclaims; she’s instinctively called to join the other two in thunking her hooves against the stone in celebration, but she can’t let go. She even misses Totem’s hoof supporting her back, much as she might be angry at him.

Bends and dents prevent Tempest Shadow from fully retracting her rod. She sighs with frustration, but rather than release her weapon she keeps it grasped in her muzzle, freeing her hooves to climb. She regards Applebaum coldly, ignoring their heaping praise. “Do you still have your rope?”

“Y-yeah.” She flicks her head at her saddlebags, afraid of the fervor still in Tempest’s eyes. Totem rummages through them to pull out the coil and passes it behind her. She watches with amazement as Tempest Shadow fearlessly lets go with both forelegs, balancing on precarious hoofholds, to wind two loops around her withers. Several tight knots later and the broken-horned unicorn begins climbing, the other ends secured to the pole.

They go slow, painfully so. Totem and Radiant Hope stay at her sides, helping find hoofholds and clearing away areas she indicates as treacherous. Tempest Shadow takes the brunt of her weight every time she needs to climb a step higher, the pole firmly resting on her forelegs, gritting her teeth when they are free. And then, when she has a bit of slack, takes the pole back in her muzzle and swaps between vines and shallow depressions to take another short step.

Applebaum looks upward and locates the two kirin still staring impassively. She wonders what would have happened if Tempest Shadow hadn’t beaten back the mantis. Would they have helped? They aren’t dropping heavy rocks on them, so they can’t be too hostile. Right? Or are they merely waiting for the fiery Niriks to show up, and they’re keeping an eye on them in the meantime? They give no indications of their intentions, aside from waiting, so she goes back to focusing on the climb.

It takes the better part of half an hour before they are near the top, a distance Applebaum might have traveled in two minutes in a pine tree. It took fifteen times as much grit, too, and by the end her limbs are screaming with every lift and set and probing test, then wedging each hoof into crevices she only trusts because her cutie mark doesn’t warn her otherwise. And then Tempest Shadow scurries up the last crest and bodily hauls the exhausted earth pony the last few feet with far less pomp than she feels deserving of such a grueling endeavor.

The sun greets her with a gentle caress where it peeks through thick, leafy branches, warming the soft earth and bright green grass. She can’t help but embrace the ground, wishing it was the blades of Sweet Apple Acres, her dam ‘like as not to come cantering ‘round with a bottle of sweet cider after a hard day’s work.

“I have heard earth ponies were tough.” Every word from Tempest Shadow’s mouth sounds forced, the scowl on her face not quite able to pull to a smile. “You did well.” She nods once before turning toward the kirin. “Good job,” she says, almost as an afterthought, the kirin disappearing into the brush.

“Thanks,” Applebaum mutters, cautious to the guarded unicorn’s praise. Tempest doesn’t seem happy that they got there, only that she did, and can move on to the next stage in her plan, whatever that is.

But she doesn’t have the energy to complain. She splays out, whimpering, cradling her injured foreleg. All the wrong muscles hurt, places she didn’t even know she had muscles to hurt. She’s grateful Radiant Hope is with them; there’s no chance the injury might permanently lame her, as it might if she was forced to take days to limp out of the jungle on her own.

She watches Totem drag the struggling unicorn up the last bit. He barely seems to notice her weight, while Tempest Shadow cursed under her breath the whole time. Radiant Hope looks like Applebaum feels, stained with brown mud and red dust until her purple coat looks like a mix of hers and Totem’s. Their motley dam, in a sense, and she ignores her own plight to inspect Applebaum with a mother’s look of concern. It sets the young mare at ease, having somepony watch over her, much like her own dam would.

Radiant Hope wearily coughs out a bit of dust as she carefully touches the injured foreleg. “Let me know if this hurts,” she commands, if tenderly, back in the persona of a doctor. She works her way from elbow to hock, horn alight as she concentrates. She watches like it’s one of their foal’s games, trying to build a bridge with as few as pieces as possible, so every block has to balance as far as it can go and any erroneous movement or lapse of attentiveness might trigger a collapse.

“Urgh,” Applebaum complains right as Radiant Hope gets to the fetlock. It doesn’t hurt as bad as it did before. “Right there.”

“Okay, good. Just a sprain.” Radiant Hope gives Applebaum a beaming smile, the young mare almost able to see her pulling out a lollipop like she’s been a good foal for Doctor Sharps. “Try to stay off of it; in fact, we should bandage it up tight against your barrel. If you want.”

The unstated issue being that, if they need to run, an injured foreleg is better than none at all. “Can ya tie it in a slipknot?”

“Of course.” Radiant Hope guides the leg until it rests against Applebaum’s barrel, then runs the rope around and around until she’s trussed up like a Hearth’s Warming present. Once she has it in position and secure her horn flares, a pink glow surrounding and seeming to seep into Applebaum’s leg. “Sorry,” she explains almost as a distraction, pins and needles pricking into every side of her fetlock. “I’m not as good with knots as Tempest. She practically lived on an airship.”

“Ah ain’t complainin’,” Applebaum says as she tests the knot. It’ll work, and if she needs she can slip her leg out and hobble along a bit better than with three legs. “Totem, come along.” She winces at the prospect of guiding him forward instead of calling him to her. She offers him a hopeful smile. “Help me along?”

“Sure,” Totem returns, and his utter willingness to do what she says grates on her. Or maybe it’s the bland way he agrees to anything and everything.

“The spell will help speed along your body’s natural healing,” Radiant Hope explains as they hobble after Tempest Shadow. It certainly feels like it’s knitting itself back together. “There are short term solutions, but they tend to not work as well long term. Too high a chance of healing wrong. It’s good we got to it so quickly. Well, quick enough." She chances a glance backward, scowling at the cliff. “Too late, and your body starts making adjustments as best it can, which may not be how you want it to heal.”

“Is that why you couldn't heal Tempest’s horn?” Applebaum asks, almost at a whisper. She isn’t sure how sensitive the unicorn is about the subject. They have to pick their way through thick underbrush, and she worries Tempest might overhear.

The corners of Radiant Hope’s muzzle pull to a grimace. “Some parts don’t regrow. Teeth are one of the few exceptions. Horns…”

“Ah get it,” Applebaum says, contrite. Then they push a few thick branches aside, stopping next to a stock-still Tempest Shadow.

In front of them lies a deserted village. Houses are built into and around the trees, much like Fluttershy’s hovel. Market stalls overflow with colorful fruits, the same kinds as the trees. A fountain in the middle bubbles with clear water while quiet streams crisscross the open center. Yet there is no trace of the two kirin they were following, or anypony at all!

At first, the experience is unnerving. It takes her a moment to figure out why: she can’t hear a thing. Not a single buzzing bug, the whistle of wind through the branches, or the gurgle of water splashing into the pool. Even the pulse of blood in her ears seems muffled. Silence reigns, its dominance total and complete.

She can’t even scream when a cold, hard edge presses against her throat.

Next Chapter: Ch. 105 - Fireborn, Part One Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 23 Minutes