Rarity glared at Gilda from across the carriage, blinking away the hot tears that had spilled from her for nearly the entire ride. Clenching her hands, the soul-folk tried to bring them forward only for her arms to freeze midair. Rarity tugged again, scowling at the ethereal chains that held her back. She tugged at one, pulled it as hard as she could, but the translucent metal didn't budge from its base at the carriage walls.

“You're not going to get out of—“ Gilda started, only for Rarity to interrupt her.

“Don't you dare talk to me,” she snarled. “After what you did, you, you, despicable coward. You monster—“

“I'm not a monster.”

“Liar! You are exactly that!”

“I did what I had to,” Gilda hissed out, her teeth clenched so tight she heard them groan in protest. “Something an entitled bitch like you never had to do.”

“And killing Jack was something you just 'had to do?'” Rarity turned her head, willing herself to stay strong but crying through her words. “You putrescent slime.”

Gilda narrowed her brow. “I—“

They both lurched as the wagon stopped. Footsteps came to the cabin and Dmitri pulled the door open, looking at the two. Though she knew it wouldn't help her, Rarity looked behind the man, trying desperately to spot anything familiar in the open fields. A landmark, a house—something to give her a sense of direction, but, nothing.

“Gilda,” Mr. Dorcis said, cocking a thumb behind him. “Go up front. I want a moment of privacy.”

She stared at him, before slowly nodding, rising and passing by him as he moved to take her seat. Gilda shut the door behind her and after a beat, the carriage began its slow journey down the road.

“Well, here we are,” Dmitri said after a long pause. “Face to face.”

“Bastard,” Rarity spat.

He feigned hurt. “Why, Rarity Belle, I'm sure your father doesn't condone such language.”

“He also doesn't condone lying, you damnable lout!” she cried out, once more reaching for him, only to remain chained in place. He tsked.

“Temper, dear. Those chains aren't going anywhere. I should know, being the maker of them. Just make yourself comfortable, it's going to be a long drive.”

There was silence in the carriage, before Rarity shook her head.

“Why me?”

Dmitri raised a brow. “Is enjoying your company not an answer enough?”

“Enough with your games,” she said quietly. “What you did to Jack... all these months of anguish... why?”

“I didn't do anything to Jack,” he replied smoothly. “That was Gilda's doing, was it no—“

“Shut up,” Rarity snapped, her quiet voice speaking volumes. “Don't you dare argue semantics.”

He rolled his eyes. “It's simple. I wasn't entirely lying earlier. I need you to do a job.”

“You'll get no help from me. You'll have to kill me first.”

“Is that so?” he pondered, crossing his arms. “Well, I could say we have ways to get you to comply, the human body being a lot more durable than it seems, but that just feels so cliché.” He snapped his fingers, inspiration striking. “I know! Maybe I'll just ask your sister instead!” Dmitri reached into his pocket, producing a picture that made Rarity's blood freeze.

Her sister, the photo taken in the dead of night as she was asleep, her arms cradling a tattered stuffed bear.

“I'm sure she'd be a lot more cooperative. After all, being younger, perhaps she won't be as stuck in her ways as you are.”

“Don't you dare involve her.”

“I won't. Provided you work with me.”

Rarity's face scrunched up in anger. “What do you want?”

With that, Dmitri's grin widened.

Hurt.

That was the only thing she could say with certainty as she floated in a sea of dark. It hurt despite how numb she was.

Hurt.

She couldn't move. Couldn't breath. All she was aware of was the hurt she felt.

Hurt.

Hurt.

In the far reaches of her mind, she heard a weak thump. A thump, then another, then another. The sound beat in synch with her heart.

Her heart.

Her hand twitched. The blackness leaving her deaf and dumb peeling away slowly. A snake shedding its skin.

Jack groaned, the hard floor pressing against her back. She lay for a brief moment in the sunlight that came from the patio doors and reached up to rub at her face—

Pain erupted from her chest. She drew in a sharp breath and squinted her eyes shut at it. Glancing down, Jack noticed something. There, just above her breast was a small, narrow bolt from a crossbow embedded into her body.

Her anger flared, shaking a bit more of the sleep from her system.

Gilda.

She reached down and grasped the bolt, giving it a tug. Jack flinched, squinting at the sharp sting of the bolt as it refused to budge. Scowling, she clenched the bolt tighter in her palm and grit her teeth. Summoning her weakened strength, she tugged with all her might. For a moment, it seemed like her efforts were in vain, then it slowly, agonizingly withdrew. She heard a pop from within her, and the only thought that came to her was, It was stuck in my ribs.

Free from her flesh, she held it up, sweat caking her face.

Another thought came as she looked down at her slowly weeping wound.

A fraction of an inch; hell, a fraction of a centimeter, and the bolt would have slipped past her ribs. Into her heart.

“S-shit...” she stammered out.

A knock came from downstairs and moments later, Jack heard the door open.

“Hello?” a man's voice called out. “Ms. Belle?” Silence, then, “We got a tip regarding a domestic disturb—“

Dead silence. Jack could guess that he saw what she did when she first walked in.

The earth-folk wasn't always bright, especially when compared to some of her friends, but she could guess where that 'tip' came from.

There was no time to explain what was going on to the guy. The questioning alone might take hours. Or worse, he might not believe what Jack was saying. She could be looking at a prison cell until it all got sorted out.

She had to get out of here, there was no other answer.

Jack pushed herself up and nearly toppled over. Her legs were weak, limp. She was standing with the strength of a newborn foal. Summoning what she could of her strength, she walked towards the patio.

It was a crap-shoot, but there was no other way; it was her only chance. She couldn't reason with him, the way the place was looking, she couldn't hide, and she sure as hell couldn't subdue him as she was right now.

Pushing open the patio door, she made it to the guard rail and threw her dead leg over, then the other. She turned, intending to lower herself down as much as she could with her arms, only for her strength to give out.

Jack landed like a limp sack of grain, all her breath getting knocked out of her as pain radiated in waves from her side. Rising, she quickly checked her body over as she limped away from the scene. Nothing seemed broken, just beaten to hell.

Making her way through the field Rarity's boutique sat in, Jack spared a glance behind her. She wasn't sure the guard saw her escape after all that—the woman hoped and prayed he didn't, but she couldn't be sure. For all she knew, he would be on her heels any second.

Jack forced herself to take a breath for just a moment—just a second as she made her way down Ponyville's main strip. Panic came to her, she was running blind, with no real plan.

Catalog, dear, the voice of Rarity said, bemused. Just talk yourself through your plans and how to solve them.

“Yeah,” she agreed to the thought, her voice raspy. “OK. I don't know where Rarity was taken. That's the big one. I can solve that by...”

Nothing was coming to her. She cussed, spitting to the side until a memory clicked.

“Twila. Rare's a soul-folk. Twi can do a magic spell ta trace her. I can find her.”

Emboldened, Jack started walking again, towards the academy. Feeling slowly started coming to her feet as whatever had affected her started to clear out of her system.

“An', an', I'm gonna need my stuff. An' a horse ta catch up ta 'em.”

She nodded. Cataloging. She'd make Rare proud yet.

“It's simple really,” Dmitri explained. “You're leaving a message with your father.”

Rarity paused. “What do you want with him? What does he have to do with this?”

“Everything,” he answered. “He has everything to do with this.”

“My father is a good man. There's no way he slighted you without reason.”

“Oh, it's nothing so dull as personal revenge,” Dmitri replied. “It's simply business.”

“Business?” Rarity repeated. “You murdered Jack and tortured me for months now for business?”

He quirked a brow. “And it being personal for me would of made you feel better how?”

The tailor said nothing. He let a small laugh out.

“As I thought.” He crossed his leg and stared out at the passing scenery. “Now, should I tell you my reasons, or are you going to interrupt me again?”

Rarity remained quiet. Not out of obedience, but for the simple matter that she was so hurt, so offended, that no words came to her.

“As a woman of your stature knows, I make my living off the railway. The country lives and breathes off the railway—off the tracks, the trains, the carts under my name. Your father threatens that. Still threatens that.” He snapped his fingers towards Rarity. “You're going to tell him that certain groups have taken an interest in you. You're not going to name anyone, or anything associated with me, my company. Nothing. I won't repeat myself. You're going to tell him that if he doesn't immediately withdraw from Macon and cancel the engine prototype deal he reached with the Maconites, we'll...” He grinned. “Well, I'll let you figure out what to say there. You always did have a flare for the dramatic, didn't you?”

“I don't understand, why not just buy the rights for the engine when it arrives here?”

“It would delay my plans for far too long before turning the profit growth I need,” he explained.

“But for what end?” Rarity finally asked. “You're already rich, what do a few years of suboptimal profits matter?”

“Rarity, Rarity, Rarity,” Dmitri said, rolling his eyes playfully. “If I keep in accordance with my plans, with my profits, then in a few years at most, I'll be crowned king.”

“King?” she repeated. “Don't make me laugh.”

“It's no laughing matter, my dear. Who do you think funds a majority of the council members working under Celestia and Luna? You don't think I've been handpicking candidates to replace members at every available opportunity? I'm halfway to my goal. A scandal here, an early retirement there, and then I can have the majority of the council under my command. And from there, all they have to do is elect to say that Celestia and Luna are unfit to rule, and that they have the perfect replacement in mind.” He laughed. “Not all revolutions are built upon blood. Sometimes the ballot works just as well.”

“And what right do you have to claim the throne? Why do you deserve it?”

Dmitri smiled, the action sending chills down Rarity's spine. “The same way Celestia and Luna deserved it. By bloodright.”

Jack shuffled forward down the main strip, keeping her head down low as she walked the streets, dodging glances thrown her way. As she pressed on, a nagging part of her kept reminding her that they could be looking for her. There was no way she made it this far unscathed. Someone had to have seen her leaving the scene.

Her answer came but a moment later. A carriage rolled up behind her. As it got closer, she heard a familiar voice speak to her.

“Get in, Apple,” Will commanded.

Nodding, she hoisted herself up and they took off, the horses briskly trotting down the way.

Once they reached the outskirts of town, Will spoke. “You've got some red on you.”

Jack let a weak snort of laughter pass by. “Jus' a lil' nick. Stings, but it ain't gonna kill me.”

“It still bleeding?”

She shrugged. “Slowin' down now. Don't worry about it.”

Will easily shrugged as they rode along the path. Eventually, he turned to her. “So, care to inform me why the police are looking for you?”

“Guess they did see me after all,” Jack said to herself.

“It's not like you're a hard thing to miss.”

“Reckon not,” she admitted, leaning her head back to rest against the carriage.

Another lull in conversation, and Jack spoke once more.

“You gonna ask what was goin' on, or...?”

Will shrugged. “I know my student wouldn't do anything dumb for no damn reason. Why should I care about specifics?”

“I ain't sure the police'll see it the same way,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the vanishing town.

“Which is why I lied and told one of the guys looking for you that you headed towards the train.” He cocked a thumb to his chest. “I think that'll at least buy you some time.”

Nodding slowly, she stared at the road ahead. “I don't know how I'm gonna do what I need ta do. I mean, I got some idea of what needs done, but...”

“I couldn't tell you either. But I know you'll figure it out. You—hell, the whole clan of Apples—you guys are too stubborn to quit.” As the school came into sight on the horizon, Will spoke again. “When we get you to the academy, I'm going to head back to town.”

“Why?”

“Going by the odds, someone saw us riding together. We both stick out like sore thumbs.” He nodded. “I'm going to lie again and said I took you north, a bit towards Middleburg. Might buy you some time to gear up and get out of here.”

“But what about you?” Jack asked. Will brushed off the question with a shrug.

“Worst case they make me an accessory to whatever it was you were doing. I'm in good graces with the Princesses and a vet of the griffon wars, though. I'm sure if I explain the situation, I'll be no worse for ware.” He gave a friendly tap to Jack's shoulder. “But I'm sure you don't have the time for that kind of luxury, I'm guessing.”

“I don't,” she admitted. “If I don't hurry, Rarity is gonna be in some major trouble.”

They pulled into the academy proper. Will set the horses to a brisk trot as they cut through the crowd of students lounging about outside. Before Jack could say anything, Will leaned over, giving the woman a gentle hug.

“Be careful. I'll see what I can do on this end.”

“I'm gonna try ta be,” she replied, returning the embrace.

With that, Jack jumped off the carriage and entered the building, only sparing a glance to watch Will ride off like a possessed man.