“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” said Colonel Glade as Scootaloo and a very unhappy Gilda landed in the Dragon’s Den. He was large for a griffon, but his tail was a little too short. Gilda had told her once that he lost the end of his tail in a fight with a dragon, but Scootaloo didn’t know whether to believe her or not. “I know you’ve been busy training the new recruits, but I have an urgent mission for both of you.”

“Does it involve sleeping?” Gilda mumbled. She was a little steadier than before, but Scootaloo could tell a massive headache was on its way.

Colonel Glade sighed. “Sergeant, how much did the captain drink tonight?”

“It’s difficult to say, sir,” Scootaloo replied. “She had seventeen shots of something. I’m not sure what.”

“Captain, I’m tired of talking to you about your drinking problem,” the colonel said.

“And I’m tired of recruits who can’t tell their wings from their tails,” Gilda replied.

“You’re a good soldier, Gilda, but if you can’t control yourself, I’ll be forced to relieve you of your rank and duties,” the colonel said. “This will be your last chance. I’ve been incredibly forgiving as it is.”

Gilda looked like she wanted to reply, but her headache must have kicked in, and all she could do was crouch on the floor with her talons pressed against her skull. Scootaloo had always been amazed at how quickly the griffons could process alcohol, but this ability wasn’t working to Gilda’s advantage tonight.

Colonel Glade rolled his eyes and turned to face Scootaloo. “My messenger said you had something you wanted to discuss with me,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Scootaloo, holding out the paper. “I was almost hit by a knife while I was flying near the cliffs. This note was attached to the handle.” The colonel took the note and looked it over. “I think we should increase security patrols for the time being,” Scootaloo continued. “Whoever attacked me is probably still out there.”

“Somewhere,” Colonel Glade agreed. “You’re lucky to be alive, sergeant. She doesn’t usually miss.”

“She, sir?”

Colonel Glade frowned. “Surely you’ve heard of Shadow Strike.”

“What?” Scootaloo jumped at Gilda’s outcry. The griffon was staring at the colonel with wide eyes. “Shadow Strike is here?”

“Was,” the colonel replied. “No doubt she’s long gone by now.”

“Not if I can help it!”

Gilda ran for the cave entrance, spreading her wings as she went. “Gilda, wait!” Scootaloo yelled, grabbing the griffon’s tail in her teeth as she passed. “Hooth Thadow Thtike?”

“Let go, Scoots,” Gilda yelled, whipping her tail out of Scootaloo’s grip. “I have a score to settle with her!”

“Captain, stop!” Colonel Glade ordered, but Gilda was past listening. She kicked off the ground and flapped her wings as the cave entrance drew near. “Stop her!”

Something moved in the shadows, and a moment later, bright green flames shot across the entrance. Gilda flared her wings and backed away, the hot air uncomfortable against her skin. “W-What was that?” Scootaloo asked.

A twelve-foot purple dragon with green spikes stepped into the light, causing Gilda to back away several more feet. Scootaloo had to fight the urge to run. A dragon? An actual dragon? Here?

“Name’s Spike,” the dragon said, brushing some soot from his scales. “Former assistant of Twilight Sparkle, current messenger between the Griffon’s Nest and Zebrica.”

“W-What’s your problem, huh?” Gilda demanded, her attitude overriding her shock. “Some punk’s throwing knives at our soldiers, and I’m gonna make sure it doesn’t happen again!”

“Gilda, hold your tongue,” Colonel Glade said.

“Don’t you know anything?” Gilda screamed. “Shadow Strike’s the reason Nightmare Moon’s still alive and Rainbow Dash is dead!”

“Enough!” the colonel roared. “I order you to be quiet!” Scootaloo didn’t realize she was still backing away until she bumped into the wall. In five years, she’d never seen the colonel pull rank like this. Gilda’s mouth hung open for a moment before she sank to the ground in a surly sulk.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with the briefing,” the colonel said. “Earlier this evening, Spike received an urgent message from our allies in Zebrica. Zecora is on the verge of discovering a potion that will nullify Nightmare Moon’s magical powers for a short time. This potion could be instrumental in our defense.”

“Great,” Gilda said. “What’s that got to do with us?”

“That potion is only good for us if we have it here in the Nest,” Colonel Glade said. “We need to get it from Zebrica.”

“So we should be looking out for zebra messengers?”

Colonel Glade shook his head. “The zebras have done us a huge favor by discovering it. We can’t ask them to bring it through Equestria, too.”

“So, what?” Gilda asked. “You want us to go to them?”

“Exactly.”

Gilda’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? It’ll take weeks for us to find a safe route around Equestria.”

“You won’t be flying around Equestria,” the colonel replied. “You’ll be flying through it.”

“Through it?” Scootaloo and Gilda said in unison.

“I know it’s dangerous, but–”

“That’s insane!” Gilda cried. Colonel Glade glared at her.

“Sir, Equestria is an icy, desolate wasteland,” Scootaloo said. “We’ll freeze before we make it to Zebrica.”

“If Nightmare Moon doesn’t catch us first,” Gilda added.

“I know it’s dangerous, but it’s a risk we have to take,” Colonel Glade replied. “Zecora’s potion is vital to the success of our attack. If we can’t stop Nightmare Moon here, our cause will be lost.”

“So how do you expect us to survive?” Gilda asked.

“That’s where I come in,” Spike said. “I can protect you from the elements as well as Nightmare Moon.”

“You?” Gilda raised an eyebrow at the dragon. “No offense, but you don’t look very tough for a dragon.”

“I was raised by Twilight Sparkle,” Spike replied. “I know more about magic than any dragon alive. If anyone can stand up to Nightmare Moon, it’s me.”

“We hope it won’t come to that,” Colonel Glade added. “Spike can provide warmth and shelter, but you must do everything in your power to avoid a confrontation with the mare of darkness.”

“Fine,” Gilda said with a sigh. “We sneak down to Zebrica, find Zecora, and bring the potion back here. Am I missing anything?”

“I believe you’ve summed it up quite nicely, Captain,” the colonel replied. “Spike will meet you at the training grounds tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir.”

The colonel dismissed them. Gilda and Scootaloo left the Den and glided silently toward their nests. “He’s right,” Scootaloo said at last. “We do need that potion.”

Gilda shot her a glance. “Can I tell you something, Scoots?”

“Sure.”

“I’d rather stay here and train the recruits.”