“This,” Applejack introduces to a still-sleepy Trixie, “is Grand Auntie Applesauce.”

The bright green grandmare gives the star-cloaked mare a pleasant, if slow, wave as she boards Cherry Berry’s forest green balloon. “Finally! For years I’ve been telling Big McIntosh he should book some entertainment on this trip. Who knew all it takes is getting a mare in charge?”

“Good to meet you,” Trixie automatically replies, her years of performances letting her half pay attention to the elderly relative and half wonder how they will possibly fit seven ponies and their luggage in Cherry Berry’s not-terribly-spacious balloon. At least there are some racks on the side. It doesn’t really bother her, being referred to as the ‘entertainment’; in her experience, there are two kinds of elderly ponies: those too old to pay attention, and those who think they are too experienced to need to. Both make easy marks.

“Hurry your haunches, hinnies!” Granny Smith waves a light green foreleg with the sort of ferocity that would fail to disturb a flower. “Daylight’s burnin’, an’ this old nag is hot to trot!”

Trixie would believe Granny’s declaration if it hadn’t taken the four of them an hour to make the five-minute trot to Ponyville.

Applejack, after loading Auntie Applesauce’s luggage and helping Granny Smith board the balloon, turns to the light orange grandmare next in line. “Cousin Apple Rose.”

“Good to meet you.” Trixie grunts as Applejack squeezes the next mare in place. Only halfway loaded and she’s already itching to take her wagon instead of the balloon, packed tighter than a firework and just as liable to explode. Or the train, but she prefers to enjoy the attractions along the way, and it’s hard to do while speeding along like a bullet.

“You know,” Apple Rose remarks, lost in thought as she stares up at the balloon, “this hot air balloon ride reminds me of the time I climbed a tree. Have I ever told you that story?”

“Only about a million times,” Auntie Applesauce retorts, grumbling as Apple Rose pulls out a small horn.

“Huh?” Apple Rose asks, fitting a small horn in her ear and jabbing the bell end in Trixie’s face. “What did you say?”

Trixie’s nose scrunches up. Better head off any rambling yarns; she doubts they would let her sleep through their stories, liable as they are to nap through her own. “Who wants to witness the amazing magic of the Great and Powerful Trixie?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, even as Apple Rose has no trouble at all hearing and puts on an appropriately excited face. Auntie Applesauce regards her with a searching suspicion - she’ll need to be careful with her tricks around her - while the newly boarding Goldie Delicious gives an appreciative coo. Applejack boards right after, and Cherry Berry prepares the balloon for departure by lifting sandbags, tightening the straps, and turning on the flame. Goldie Delicious squawks something about leaving her napping cats behind, but it’s nothing a series of quick levitations can’t fix, and the now cat-covered grandmare gives a quick nod of thanks. While doing so she grabs a number of leaves, transforms them into random playing cards once they are out of sight, and starts a five minute timer.

Trixie dons her star-studded magician’s hat, then magically withdraws an ordered deck of cards from one of the many folds of her purple cloak. “This,” she says as she gives the worn deck a number of false shuffles, simple cuts that leave the order the same, and sets of four perfect riffle shuffles, “is a very special deck of playing cards.” Between one of the perfect riffles she flashes the contents of the deck, everything appearing jumbled together. “It has been signed by everypony Trixie has given a private show.” Auntie Applesauce squints, trying to read the flowing signatures, but Trixie has already resumed her fake shuffles. “Now, what are each of your favorite cards?”

While the four grandmares ramble about their choice the balloon lifts off the ground, only Applejack seemingly concerned about the lack of safety harnesses and parachutes. Trixie herself isn’t terribly worried; after all, it isn’t a pegasus operator but an earth pony. She grew up in Las Pegasus, and the danger isn’t anything a quick featherfall won’t fix.

As Trixie begins her performance she limbers up, not minding the cramped quarters as much. In fact, the close proximity adds a whole new dimension to her tricks, being surrounded and not able to use one specific angle to shroud her actions. It excites her, steaming away the fog of sleep like the bright morning sun. She barely notices as the balloon rises above the light layer of clouds and they begin their hours-long journey.

Once the grandmares give their choices - the unassuming Goldie Delicious picks the four of clubs, a first, while Apple Rose chooses the less common seven of hearts; Auntie Applesauce and Granny Smith go for the practically scandalous princesses of hearts and spades, respectively - Trixie takes the ordered deck and levitates it in front of her. With eyes closed she carefully pulls out the middle half - the two requested princesses now on the bottom - and deftly shuffles the four of clubs and seven of hearts next to each other. One more cut and shuffle cleanly brings all four cards to the bottom. With a grand flourish she peels off the requested cards, grinning to their light applause.

She passes each card to the requestor, along with a fine-tipped pen. The four is unmarked, the seven has a single signature, but both princesses have so many names scrawled one can barely make out the flaunting image underneath. They chatter among themselves as they sign while Applejack (three of hearts) watches the ground disappear with a certain longing.

She flips the bottom card of the deck before presenting it as though it is right side up. “Place your cards back in the deck,” she commands, looking away. “Hide them anywhere you want. Top, bottom, middle. All together or separate, it makes no difference to the Talented and Ineludible Trixie!”

Each grandmare slides their card into the levitated deck, which Trixie squares up. She takes a deep breath as if intently concentrating.

“Can you use your hooves?” Goldie Delicious asks, snapping Trixie out of the moment.

She puts on a fake smile. She should refuse on principle, make some joke and continue the trick as planned. But - perhaps unbeknownst to Goldie Delicious, who may or may not be trying to trip her up - she has spent many an hour in the back of her wagon, far more hours than she might have liked, practicing with razor blades until she never nicked a hoof or trimmed a fetlock, so unlike many other unicorn performers who rely entirely on their magical talents. She has her sire to thank for that, though she hated the practice until she got good enough to fool even him.

“I once knew a unicorn as good with his hooves as he was with his horn,” Apple Rose begins with a wistful sigh, clearly about to ramble all the way to Las Pegasus. She glances at her fellow Golden Horseshoe Gals. “Did I ever tell you that story? He used to get me on my back, and then-”

“Yes,” Trixie interrupts with a stretched smile. A tiny voice in the back of her mind goes ‘Eww, old pony sex’. Though she has known a grizzled stallion or two, silvered manes sparse and wrinkled muzzles pulled taut, who got her going as well as any in their prime. She snickers at the glower Applejack gives the floor. “Horn or hooves makes no difference to the Adroit and Ambidextrous Trixie!”

She snatches the deck from her aura - not before hoofing the short stack of fake cards - and flips the whole pile over to disguise the cards running counter to the others. Two quick shuffles (the edges are cut such that a backwards card is easy to find) puts the chosen cards on the outside of the fakes. She spreads the deck out on the rail, all faces showing, and with a flourish flips the lot over to reveal their four signatures staring up at them. The praise is more muted this time, at least until she furiously snatches the section of cards and hurls them into the air. The grandmares gasp, decrying her reckless action and shaking her, pleading for her to light her horn and save the cherished cards. Their cries turn to cheers as the cards transform back into leaves, stomping and hollering as she reveals the four chosen cards, still safe in her hooves.

“The Magnificent and Marvelous Trixie has many such tricks up her sleeves!” Trixie grins to their applause, pulling out a single red apple and three cups. “Now, many lesser magicians perform this trick with easy-to-compress balls and fake cups. But watch closely, and see if you can follow…”

Applejack grumbles from the bottom of the balloon as minutes pass into hours as surely as balls and bits and baubles pass around the showmare’s starry cloak. She wants to watch closely, to follow Trixie’s every move and spot when the switch is made, when the apple fails to swap from hoof to hoof yet seems for the life of her to have done so, or when she slips an apple under a cup and presents another fruit as though it were the same one. She struggles to place her frog on exactly why the deceptions bother her. Yet they do, like she is the apple being reduced to a core by every bite the juggling Trixie takes, only for another apple with the exact same teeth marks to appear rolling out from where tail meets tunic.

She tries to focus on something else, but there isn’t much going on besides the sun making her slow journey across the sky. Why does this bother her so much? Sure, she had a sordid past with lies; the worst was the time when her brother ended up in the hospital with his leg about to be cut off. She swore them off then and there, and has mostly held since. She enjoys the occasional game of poker, sure, but after gaining the Element of Honesty the game (and others like it) lost any appeal. And she doesn’t think it is just because she can sense, like a pony stepping into the shade, when they bluff or outright lie. There seems something wrong with bolstering one’s ability to bluff, even just to play games.

But maybe that is it? It’s not that it seems wrong, it’s that there is something wrong with deceiving others. Even when those others want to be fooled, to try to figure out the con before the game is up, to dream up their own tricks and deceptions. And here Trixie is, wowwing the crown not with her dexterity (though she has that in spades) but with deceit!

She doesn’t want to call the showpony out, not when the grandmares are enjoying the performance so much. Trixie has kept Apple Rose from getting even one story out, which has to be a record. Not that she minds the rambling tales, but if she wanted to follow twists and turns she’d be uprooting stumps. Goldie Delicious stomps with the rest when one of her cats appears under a startled (well, pretending to be startled) Trixie’s hat. Even Auntie Applesauce has kept her biting comments to a minimum.

Is the whole town of Las Pegasus going to be like this? Applejack scowls as the city goes from a speck on the horizon to a hoof-sized sparkler. She feels sick to her stomach. Does the Cutie Map somehow think they are going to turn the entire town towards truth?

She takes a deep breath as the landing platform approaches, a few pegasi flitting about and assisting. Well, if it is, she’d better start now.

Next Chapter: Ch. 157 - Mutated Growth, Part Three Estimated time remaining: 7 Hours, 16 Minutes