Jack entered the school's lobby, dodging the looks and questions coming at her far too fast for her liking. As she got closer to her dorm, clutching the weakly bleeding injury Gilda left her with, the crowds thinned out and she was left with a few minutes of quiet as she climbed up the stairs to her room.

Opening the door, she noticed Isabelle napping on her bed, blankets covering her and letting out an occasionally weak groan. Jack hesitated for a moment, only a moment, then shook the other awake.

“Mmm?” Dash groaned out, her scratchy voice thick with sleep. “What?”

“Dash, it's important, get up.”

“It better be,” the sky-folk grumbled, stretching and opening one rose-colored eye.

“Rare's been taken.”

“Taken?” Dash repeated weakly, rubbing at the top of her head and sitting up, tossing the blankets to her feet. Picking up the string of her bra, she threw it back onto her shoulder, then smacked her lips, crossed her legs under her and waited for the farmer to clarify.

“An' I don't know where!” Jack exclaimed, rubbing at her mouth, then tilting her head back, a feeling of helplessness briefly overtaking her before she found strength to talk once more. “Gilda and this other fella...”

Dash narrowed her brow, her sleep-addled brain finally clearing up. “What did Gilda do?”

“She shot me.” Jack said, moving her hand to show the flesh wound. Dash's eyes widened in shock. She turned her gaze to Jack's mouth, the farmer started to promptly speak again. “She shot me an' took Rarity an' I don't have a Goddamn clue where she is.” The brown-skinned woman gave a pleading look towards Isabelle, then undid the buttons on her shirt and walked to the bathroom, bringing out a roll of gauze. “Dash, find Twila, wherever she is, an' tell her I need her.”

Dash nodded. “Yeah. Hang tight, bro. We'll get you fixed up.” She moved to her dresser and pulled some clothes out as Jack patched herself up. “I can't believe Gilda tried to kill you.”

Jack sighed, looking down to the slowly reddening bandage around her torso. “I can't believe I'm still breathin'.”

Moving over to the chest at the foot of her bed, Jack opened it and withdrew a small bottle; pain medication from a shoulder injury that felt like a lifetime ago. She poured out a pill, dry swallowed it, then, after consideration, swallowed another. It wasn't much, but it would hopefully stop the ache of the bolt wound, and maybe keep her on her feet longer if she got hurt.

Jack wasn't planning on getting hurt, but, then again, she wasn't planning on anything like this either.

“I shouldn't of trusted her.” Dash said after a long uncomfortable pause. She looked over at Jack, then started to get dressed. “A little bit ago, she said she had to do a job. When I asked her about it, she said it was something that wasn't going to hurt anyone. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I should of done something different.”

Jack took a breath in thought. Shaking her head, she moved over to her leather armor and began to don it piece by piece. “Ya ain't a mind reader. This jus' is what it is.”

“I guess.”

Dash took the words to heart, looked Jack over, then, noting the woman having trouble getting the chestpiece clasped behind her, Dash moved towards the farmer's back, first tightening the buckles that kept the armor together, then wordlessly helping her with the rest. Once Jack was armed, Isabelle nodded and stepped back.

“I'll get the girl, bro. Back in a flash.”

“Y-yeah.”

Nodding once more, Isabelle ran off, leaving Jack to stare somberly out the window for a few fleeting minutes as she tried desperately to keep her nerves in check.

Jack's reprieve was short, far shorter than she needed, before Twilight burst into the room, pushing up her glasses with a finger and shaking her head quickly.

“I came as fast as I could, is what Dash said about Rarity true?” Twila asked in a blur of words.

Jack turned, taking in a breath. “She got grabbed, Twi. Please,” she took the soul-folk by the shoulders and stared down at her, “I'm beggin' ya, find her. Do that trackin' thing ya did with Blueblood an' I swear I'll do the rest.”

“I'm not letting you do this by yourself, Jack,” Twila replied, staring up evenly at the farmer. “We're not letting you do this by yourself.” She looked across the room and spotted a chair, then sat down on it gently, her hands at her knees. “I'll find her, and we'll go to her, you, me, Dash, Chylene and Pinkie. We're all in this, together.”

Jack shook her head. “I can't ask ya ta do that. It'll be too dangerous. If any of ya get hurt, I dunno what I'll do. This is my fight, sug.”

“Enough talking,” Twila replied, shutting her eyes then gesturing out with her palms. A small translucent board appeared in front of her, which soon outlined a map of Cabello. “From what Isabelle said, I know Gilda was there, which gives me a bit of an advantage to picking up a trail, but describe the man to me as well, Jack. Any detail, any detail at all. If I can identify him, we can find Rarity, I'm sure of it.”

Jack moved to the bed and sat, squinting in thought.

“Uh... kinda pale. Sorta salt an' pepper hair. White goatee, lanky. His name was... Dmitri, I think.”

Twila paused at the name before giving a small wave of her hand, her fingertips gliding along the magically created board.

“What was his mark? Did you see it?”

“Nah,” Jack replied. “Didn't see nothin' on that.”

“So we're looking at an earth-folk or sky-folk.” Twila gestured on the map and focused, exhaling and letting her body droop. She remained like this for a long, awkward pause, the only sign she was alive being the slow rise and fall of her chest. Finally, she opened her eyes and shook her head.

“Rarity's aura is being suppressed. Like there's something they're containing her in.”

“There was a carriage,” Jack replied.

“If it was lead-lined, that could easily do it,” Twila agreed. “If I just had some time, I could do this. I've been around her long enough that I know what her aura feels like. I'm sure I could find her.”

“Every second we take, she gets farther away.”

“I know that, Jack. Believe me. But it's not like I can—“ She paused. Looking down at her hands, she muttered. “Jack. Hold onto my arms and don't let go.”

Curious, but cooperative, Jack moved a chair to the woman and grabbed her by the wrists. Twila exhaled, and before Jack's eyes the world seemed to change. It rippled, reminding Jack of a bubble going through the water, and its color drained, soon leaving everything first in a bizarre sepia tone, then the world itself faded to an eggshell white, blinding Jack.

Once her vision returned, she saw that they were in a pure, featureless void, the only objects still present and accounted for the chairs upon which they sat. She looked up at Jack.

“You can let go now,” Twila said, her voice echoing in the empty world.

Jack did. Then stood and gave a slow circle around her, equally amazed and alarmed at where she stood. “What is this?”

“A bridge to my Dreamscape. Allow me another moment.”

Twila exhaled, and a room popped into existence. There was no better way for Jack to describe it. At first, nothing but the white void, then everything. Jack found herself recoiling in surprise, bumping into a large desk as she took in the high-class room. A bright sunny day streamed in from the large bay windows overlooking a port town, not a cloud in the sky. Twila leaned over the desk she sat it, moving dozens of papers across the table top.

“We have time now,” Twila replied, exhaling, then continuing before the inevitable questions. “Time here functions differently in the Dreamscape. For every minute in the real world, you can experience ten here.”

Jack nodded and took to pacing on the carpet as Twila read over the papers at her desk.

“There's scotch in the dresser by the windows,” the soul-folk remarked. “It will do nothing to you on the outside world, but in here at least, it should calm your nerves.”

Jack did just that, pouring herself a hard, stiff drink and staring out the window at the people down below. There must have been hundreds of them, all going through their daily routine on the cobblestone streets. All save for a figure, standing on a building in the distance adorned in an ebony-black cloak. Jack squinted at the figure, trying to place him and his odd appearance. He stared forward, unnervingly, not a single fiber twitching from what Jack could see from here.

A knock came at the door and a younger man entered, a towel at his arm and his gray eyes scanning the room thoughtfully.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he politely addressed, turning to Twila. “Madam? I'm surprised to see you here.”

“It's an emergency, Wadsworth. I'm collecting some information and then we'll be departing.”

“I understand. Though you need to hurry, madam, we're due for rain later in the day.”

“Rain?” Jack remarked. “There ain't a cloud in the sky.”

Wadsworth offered no reply, instead giving an urgent glance Twila's way and briskly leaving the room.

“What was that 'bout?” Jack asked, scratching her head.

“Never you mind. Let's get to work.” She tapped some of the loose papers on the table. “I looked through my records and think I found who we're looking for,” the woman announced. Swallowing the rest of the hard liquor, Jack turned and approached where Twila sat.

She tapped a piece of paper; a holograph appeared on the wall in front of them, sputtering to life alongside an image matching Jack's description of the man that had kidnapped Rarity.

“Him?”

“I guarantee it,” Jack replied. “How did ya...?”

“Dmitri Dorcus. I had a suspicion about him ever since I started looking into his grant fund. I simply wanted to verify it with you to make sure it was the correct man.”

“Well, it's right on the bits. How does this help save Rare?”

“We can get an idea where he's taking her.” She gestured, and a large map of Cabello appeared against the wall. She made a few more quick gestures, and dozens of yellowed dots decorated the open land, scattered in all directions.

“What are these?” Jack asked, leaning on the desk to get a better view.

Twila rubbed at an earlobe. Behind them, a cloud briefly passed by, obscuring the sun for a moment.

“These are all properties that Dmitri owns, be they businesses or private residences. I'm not a betting woman, but he has got to be taking her to one of these places.”

Jack tilted her head. “How can ya be sure?”

“I can't,” she admitted, putting a hand to her chin. “But if you're a rich tycoon personally kidnapping someone, wouldn't it make sense, keeping her at a location you own? He wouldn't want to move her to a second or third party's location, it's illogical.”

Jack bit at her lip. “I'll trust ya, Twi. Now what do we gotta do?”

“Eliminate the impossible,” Twila answered, pointing at the map. “I think we can get rid of all the southern locations on the map, and all the areas more than a day or two's travel by carriage. He would have needed to take the train for anything longer than that transit time, I believe. The longer the travel, the greater chance he would have of being caught.”

With a wave of her hand, the southern section of the map, and a fair amount of the eastern side, lost their dots, turning black.

The room groaned, hit by a hard breeze. Twila grimaced, but continued working, giving another gesture to eliminate another dot from the west.

Jack did a quick count. Eight.

“So yer thinkin' she got taken ta one of these?”

“That's about as narrowed down as I can get.”

Jack threw her hands to the side. “They're scattered all over the place.”

“It's the best I can do without a catalyst. And I don't think we have time to find one. They'd clearly be back in St. Charles. Plus...” She exhaled, leaning onto the desk. “I'm... weary. I don’t think I could gather the strength to call on my Dreamscape again for a good long while.”

Jack stared down at the floor, thinking. The room grew still as each pondered the event, and over time, the room became lit with a queer, strange twilight, rose in color. A warning of a storm.

An idea came to Jack after a long pause.

“Hey Twi,” she started quietly. “What exactly makes those catalysts again?”

“They have to be an object exceptionally dear to the owner. Something of sentimental value.”

Jack reached forward, offering her hand to Twila. “Try me,” she said.

“You?”

“Yeah,” the farmer agreed. “It's a crapshoot, but I ain't sure what else we can do. You said yer too weak ta get back here, an' with people lookin' fer me in town, I sure as hell can't go back right now.”

“Looking for you?”

“No time ta explain it all, sug.” She moved her hand a bit, drawing Twila's attention towards it. “Jus' let's give this a shot an' pray it works.”

Twila nodded, taking Jack's hand. “I don't know if...”

“Try an' let's see.”

Twila concentrated, as the wind groaned against the room again. She wrapped both her hands around Jack's palm and shut her eyes. Jack felt the tips of her fingers first tingle as if they were asleep, then start to throb, pulsing from the tips all the way down the base of her hand. Wincing at a small twinge of pain, the world surrounding them blinked briefly, not even a heartbeat's time, changing the surroundings back to Jack's dorm, where Twila sat, still clutching both of Jack's wrists so tight that they were numb, even under the armor. The pleasant comfort of the drink she had vanished, leaving Jack stone-cold sober, and the soul-folk herself stared straight ahead, hundreds, no, thousands of miles away, her bloodshot eyes paying no heed to what was happening.

And just like that, the image reset itself, taking Jack back to the room Twila herself conjured. Just as Jack was about to ask what that was, a wash of nausea came over her, and she shut her eyes.

The wind was chill. Not unbearably so, as they lay in the yellowed grass and stared up at the sea of stars. Jack gave a sigh of contentment, one hand behind her head, the other wrapped easily around Rarity's womanly form.

“Ain't nothin' like this,” Jack commented, chewing on a strand of hay. “I used ta sneak over onto this field all the time growin' up. Watch the stars with my friends.”

“Mmm,” Twila—Rarity replied, Twila corrected, distancing herself as far mentally as she could from the scene as she stared from Rarity's perspective. Like with Blueblood's catalyst, though, she couldn't help but be invested in the goings on. A bit player in the show.

“I got pretty good at constellations,” Jack said, gesturing to a small turning cluster of brightly shining stars. “Like that lil' group there? They call 'em the Minotaur’s spoon.”

Rarity squinted at the stars Jack pointed at. After a moment, she nodded. “It does sort of look like a spoon, doesn't it?”

Twila mentally corrected Jack. The constellation was actually part of the Ursa Major, which, according to records and Celestia's own word, was named as such from the existence of a monstrous ebony bear that was encountered well before even King Arthur's time.

“Eyup. An' from what I heard, way back 'fore civilized time, there was a legend that said if the constellation ever disappeared, that meant the giant livin' up in the stars was hungry, an' was gonna eat the world by the spoonful.”

“And what about that one?” Rarity questioned, pointing farther up. Jack let out a hum in thought.

“Uh... That's the chariot. See? Kinda like spokes on a wheel. An' in the center's the north star.”

“I do know that one at least, Jack.” Rarity smiled, squeezing in even closer to Jack and resting the back of her head against the farmer's hard shoulder. “Sailors used it often to find their way.”

“Eyup. They did that kinda navigation all the time. By constellations an'... uh, there was a tool they used. Was kinda like...” She held out her index and middle finger in a “V” shape. “An' it was a measurin' device."

Twila wanted to scream at Jack that the word she was looking for was “sextant,” but could only observe the situation. Rarity looked towards Jack, catching more than an eyeful of the farmer's cleavage; Twila mentally blushed, grimacing until the tailor trailed her gaze upward, to Jack's lips.

“Faithful,” Rarity remarked, covering up Jack's hand with her own. “Perhaps not the most eye-catching. Perhaps not the most idyllic. Stories are not made for the north star, yet it's one of the most important objects in the night sky. It's taken care of anyone willing to look for it, with no questions asked. It simply is there to protect and guide the needy.”

Jack let out a small laugh. “Where that all comin' from, sug?”

“I don't think people appreciate it as much. Amid the talk of lovers, that star fades into the background, while ones like the Rose, the Serpent, the Horse take center stage.”

“Shoot, yer better at callin' 'em out than I am.”

“Read enough romance novels, and the names become second nature,” she replied easily. “Though their location is elusive to me.”

Jack turned to her side, resting a hand to her jaw and staring at the soul-folk with eyes so pure and emerald that Twila—Rarity, that Rarity felt as if she could get lost in them. Twila felt every slow, warm breath from Jack cross over her flawless skin.

“We've got all night, sug,” Jack whispered. “I reckon I can teach ya.”

“You're getting better,” Rarity remarked coyly, her hand reaching out and brushing one of the farmer's bangs back.

“Who knows?” the farmer said. “Maybe one day I might even get ya ta get a cute lil' blush goin'.”

A throaty chuckle. “We'll see.”

With that, Rarity leaned forward, as did Jack. They met in the middle and shared a long, tender kiss.

Twila snapped free from Rarity's memory and awoke to Jack vigorously shaking her.

“It's ok, I'm fine,” Twila said.

“Fine?” Jack remarked. “I've been standin' here fer a good ten minutes. Ya got any idea how worried I was fer ya? Not ta mention that if somethin' happens, how in the hell would I leave?”

“If something happened, you'd simply return to the school. This is far more a dream than reality for you.” She looked down at her hands, then gestured, using magic to turn on a light switch on the other side of the room to combat the darkening clouds that filled the sky. “But with the catalyst active, I can get at least an idea of where she's at.”

Twila made another gesture; the map in front of her vanished, and instead a screen appeared, showcasing the point of view of someone.

Jack didn't have to guess twice on who it was.

The screen's gaze shifted across the small carriage Rarity was housed in, glancing briefly to the side and out a window, where a sea of strange red and violet roses littered the fields outside, then at the translucent shackles adorning her wrists. Then, finally, at the man sitting in front of her.

“Dmitri...” Jack growled out.

He quirked a knowing brow at Rarity, then snapped his fingers. Instantly, the image died, and Twila fell backwards from her chair, letting out a surprised swear.

“What the hell was that?” Jack asked, running over and picking Twila up. Outside, the wind increased in pitch before dying down again.

“The carriage was lead based, so I knew it wouldn't let me be there for long. But that...” the scholarly woman shook her head. “Jack, Dmitri seems to be a soul-folk as well. He just preformed a counterspell, that's why I got blown back and our image died. Are you sure he wasn't hiding his mark, something like that?”

“Hell, I dunno, Twi. Ain't like I had much time ta look the fella over.”

“But even then,” Twila continued, taking to pacing. “Even then, that was a powerful counterspell from such a great distance. I doubt I myself could perform one unless it was a closer proximity.”

“Meanin'?”

“Meaning he might not be a soul-folk at all.”

Thunder let out a small rumble in the distance. Twila glanced nervously out the windows and at the sky threatening rain.

“I don't care what he is. He's got Rare, an' I'm gettin' her back. Plain an' simple.”

“It's suicide, Jack. If he is what I think he is, there's no way you'll match up against an all-folk.”

Jack clenched her hands tightly, and slapped a fist to her palm. “If Will can take on Luna, I can take on Dmitri.”

Twila shook her head. “You don't believe that do you?”

Jack put a hand to her arm and let a frown cross her lips. “Ya know what Rarity means ta me. I can't jus' go on without tryin' ta get her back, Twi. I love her too much fer that.” She looked towards the wall. “Now, if ya can, I need where they're at. Did that catalyst thing help ya figure out locations any?”

Twila stared at Jack for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “To an extent.” She made a circle with her finger; an image of a red and violet rose appeared. “These are indigenous to the northwestern provinces of Cabello. Meaning that...” One last motion with her palm decorated the map with a small cluster of green. Dead center stood a solitary yellow dot. “Here is your best bet.”

The rain came down. Hard, heavy, and chilling, sucking away any warmth the room previously had.

“Great. Let's get outta here now.”

Twila shut her eyes and concentrated. After a long pause, she opened them again, looking perturbed, even frightened.

“Somethin' the matter?”

“N-no. It's fine. Everything's fine.” She held out her palm and gave a quick shake of it. For a brief, fleeting moment, their world appeared, Twila still clutching Jack's wrists painfully, and the soul-folk's left eye letting out a single crimson drop of blood, before returning them back to Twila's Dreamscape.

“Twi, what the hell's goin' on?!” Jack exclaimed. “Yer bleedin'!”

Twila reached up. Sure enough, a line of crimson flowed from one of her eyes. “I-I gotta get out of here,” she said to herself, gesturing once more to no effect.

Thunder blasted by the room, the light Twila turned on blinked and briefly lost power before coming back on. From below them, Jack heard a heavy, hard knock.

“He's at the door,” Twila muttered, running her hands through her hair. “He's coming and he's at the door.”

“Who's coming? What's goin' on? Twi!”

A heavy crash from downstairs and the sound of a man yelling in protest. Wadsworth. He was silenced soon enough. Footfalls grew closer and closer, louder and louder.

“Get us out of here, Twi.”

“I-I can't! I just tried!”

Jack desperately looked around the room. “I thought ya had this under control?”

“I did until—“

A heavy knock at the door reverberated through the room. Once. Twice. Three times. Thunder cracked through the sky, and a bolt of lightning blinded them. The lights went out, leaving them in pitch black dark.

“He's here,” Twila whimpered, panicked. “I-what am I supposed to do?!”

“Jus' calm down. I'll g—“

“No, you don't understand! He's—“

The doorknob turned. Slowly. Deliberately slow. Lightning propelled again across the sky. Twila licked her lips, grimacing.

“There's a way out. For you, at least.”

“What?”

“Go to the balcony. Hurry.”

The door opened and a nightmarish hooded figure emerged, a black veil obscuring his shadowed face. It stood, wordlessly observing them as they ran to the balcony doors.

Twila threw Jack against the stone railing and slammed the door shut behind them.

“Jump!” she ordered, the rain pelting her face.

“But—“

Twila shook her head. “If you trust me in the slightest, jump!”

Jack instantly responded to Twila's commanding shout, climbing the balcony's railing. She turned, offering her hand to Twila.

“I can't do that.”

“Twila—“

The soul-folk looked askance, then shot forward, shoving Jack. The farmer felt time slow down as she was thrown off balance. Her heart lept up her chest and adrenaline seeped into every fiber of her being.

The rain, every drop easily noticeable as it made its descent to the far-off streets and buildings below. The people lining the streets, frozen in time, many of them mid-stride. Jack turned over. Twila, her hands still extended, a wordless apology on her face. Behind her, the hooded figure, mere feet away, his arm outstretched and showing a pale, clammy hand. Further still, an odd object. A strange, raven-colored sphere encompassing almost half the width of the large mahogany desk it sat on and seeming to grow.

Her sense of time came back and she fell down, head over heels screaming.

Jack jerked up, yelling and thrashing her arms desperately against unseen specters. Twisting, she rose from the chair she was in and onto her feet, her hands raised aggressively, before she finally started to realize she was back in her room, safe, with her wrists throbbing in agony at how tight Twila was holding onto them earlier.

Her emerald eyes shot open. Twila.

Jack looked over at where Twila was sitting and there she was, the chair she was in tipped over and the soul-folk herself collapsed onto the floor, both her eyes blindly staring to the ceiling and leaving crimson trails down her cheek.

The farmer swallowed back the raw panic she felt coming to her and turned on her heels, sprinting out her dorm and down the hall.

“Chylene!” she called. “Chylene! Ya gotta help!”