Beneath the Governor's Mansion, Hockfall

Imprisonment, she found, was not quite the ordeal as Laird Highpine seemed to think it would be. The lack of food irked her, yes, but she would be long gone before it ever truly troubled her.

The rush of the Hock, muffled by the stone walls around her, kept the issue of water fresh in her head, and had she not been Twilight Sparkle, it would have been taunting, infuriating. But there in that dank dungeon it was with a grin that she listened to the river beyond. A small globe of water, pulled from the dripping, leaking walls around her, floated to her lips, and she drank - hopefully the spell had worked out any impurities. It did not fill her protesting stomach, but she ignored her hunger. She couldn't let it hold her back.

Down the corridor, the rasping snores of a guard could be heard, but with the thick iron bars of the cell door blocking her way, she couldn't see where the slumbering pony sat. Wouldn't happen in Canterlot, Twilight mused.

Once again she turned her attention to the door. It had fascinated both her and her ego to think that the Knights upstairs believed it could hold her. With a minor effort of will, the lock turned without its key, letting the gate swing freely. Too easy.

The cap over her horn, she had realised, was adamantium-infused. The valuable metal absorbed magical energy rather than contain it like its geological cousin, mithril. Mithril horn caps were unpopular amongst jailers due to their capacity to fragment and explode if their wearer were to release abnormal amounts of magic suddenly, as a prisoner might under stress. Adamant alternatives simply dampened the wearer's magical output, reducing the scale of mana spikes, but adamantium's higher price meant that a lot of criminals and wardens alike still ended up with shrapnel injuries.

Unfortunately, whoever had made this particular cap hadn't intended it for Twilight Sparkle's use. Though it sapped at her magic, she had plenty within her, and where lesser unicorns would be utterly subdued, for her it was merely a minor obstacle. Her magic was barely fettered.

Pretty handy, Twilight thought, smiling to herself, appreciative that her captors hadn't realised her capacity. It gave the means to drink, sustaining life - and to escape, sustaining hope.

The tricky part, of course, was not so much overcoming the physical aspects of her imprisonment, but actually in the timing, and locating her friends. She knew there to be cells adjacent to hers; but they were empty, and she would be surprised if Pool and Highpine chose to hold her companions separately should they find them. It was a morbid thought, but their treatment of her - especially Highpine's - suggested that they would not be below torture, for which they would need her friends here. So while she shuddered to think of the consequences should they actually be caught, their absence reassured Twilight that they were somehow safe.

But where?

Her plotting was interrupted by the creak of a door at the corridor's far end. Twilight gasped, and, under the spluttering of the roused guard, relocked her cell.

"Come on, man, look sharp!" It was the governor, she realised. Maybe they meant to start questioning her. "If it were the Laird coming down here you would likely get more than just a reprimand."

"Aye, sir," replied the guard from out of sight. "D'ye want me ta open the prisoner's cell for ye?"

"Nae- No, thank you. I merely wish to have words with her." The clop of hooves on flagstones signified Pool's approach.

When the governor appeared outside the cell, she saw that he was worse for the wear than when he had met Twilight two days past - or at least, she assumed it were two days, for they were under the Bridge-City's surface, and no daylight shone in. He had been on edge when they had first encountered each other, but now he looked positively haggard.

"Knighthood doesn't suit you, Pool," Twilight murmured. She had sat, leaning against the back wall of the prison, letting her eyes fall half-lidded. "Imprisoning an innocent mare isn't your style."

Plunge Pool cast a worried glance in the direction of the guard, before turning back to face her. He fidgeted with a hoof, eyes darting this way and that. Is was as if he sat in the cell, and Twilight outside it. The way he carried himself was of a stallion under duress, and Twilight was all but certain he would pour his heart out to her if he were not terrified of the violent Laird upstairs.

"I'm merely here to remind you," he said, voice calm despite his jittering, "that you can end this now. Laird Highpine intends to start interrogating you tomorrow. He has his agents looking for your friends inside the city, and has ordered my guards to detain them if they try to pass the city limits. If you give me the Elements then I will arrange for them to go free."

"I would if I had them," Twilight replied, uninterestedly. Plunge Pool's gaze snapped to her, and for a moment she thought he was about to lose it and let fly at her like he had in his office, but he restrained himself. For the first time she noticed the mark on his flank - white eddies of water, a circular pool ravaged by the force of the waterfall that fed it. "Wait, you know what? I probably wouldn't."

Don't make him angry, Twilight cautioned herself. He was asking for my help when we met. He'll  be reasonable as long as he thinks he could still get it.

"On your own head be it," the governor murmured, before turning to walk away. As his blue tail swept out of sight, Twilight only became more convinced that the man wanted to help her, one way or another. Perhaps he really was desperate to avoid war. He  had even gone so far as to tell her that Applejack and Rarity were - as far as he knew - still in the city, something she was sure Highpine would like to keep from her.

If they haven't been found, then they must be hiding. So they've got to know something about what's going on, she determined. Somepony must have helped them - could it've been Longhorn? I can't think of anyone else...

Her stomach groaned, the days of rich eating behind her only making the absence of food more painful. Even had she no greater purpose here, she would likely still be desperate to flee if only for a good meal. They had eaten like royalty on the train, and had food just as good at Sweet Apple Acres, but now the mere prospect of a crust of bread set her mouth watering, and this only two days into her starving. She knew a pony could survive longer than this without food - but she certainly didn't want to find out what that was like. She only wanted to leave.

She had been looking out on the way down, hoping to spy an escape route. From what she could tell, there were access doors to the Underbridge within the mansion's basement - so that serviceponies and soldiers alike could access the maze of gantries that lay between the bridge and the river, and move about as they needed to. That would be her way out.

From there she would try and pin her friends down with magic. She wouldn't risk using the Elements, though that would make it easier - if Cowlmane was still searching for them he might notice as she tried to link the pendants to their bearers. Twilight could improvise an alternate tracer once beyond the mansion. It would take longer, but hopefully be safer, and that was the important thing.

She couldn't just teleport out, of course. She intended to make for the Underbridge, which she had never seen - a blind jump could easily land her in the river channel. She would try muffling her movements and leaving when the guard fell back asleep, as he inevitably would. He had slept all through his shift yesterday, while the other two seemed more attentive - or at least, they didn't snore. As she had never seen them, Twilight wasn't willing to take her chances.

If Highpine was coming down to start interrogating her tomorrow, she would have to move now, before the pony on duty finished his shift. The next could be more attentive. That only gave her a couple of hours to get out - and with that being only a guess, she wasn't going to dally around.

Wait 'til he starts snoring, she told herself. Give it ten minutes or so to be safe, then go.

But what if it's not just him? a troubled voice nagged at her from the back of her head. What if somepony's standing watch outside? She swallowed nervously. She wasn't hoping to fight. She was desperately hoping against it. In vain, Twilight couldn't help but think. It was never going to be an easy trip.

A soft snort from around the corner informed her that her jailer was once more in the dreamscape. Do me a favour and keep him there, Luna, she pleaded silently, as she began to wait. Twenty seconds, forty seconds, sixty. One, two, three whole minutes and more - her arbitrary grace period was seeming more and more like over-cautiousness.

But maybe she couldn't be careful enough - slip up, and the Hockfall Guard would come down on her like a bag of hammers. She had fallen into a mess she could only escape from the way she came in - calmly. No resistance, just taking it in her stride. Otherwise, violence was inevitable.

Seven minutes passed without the guard rousing, and in Twilight's mind, that would have to do. Beneath the absorbent cap, her horn glowed with purple light as the door to her prison swung silently open. All you needed to stop must unicorns was an out-of-reach latch and a cork on the horn. But Twilight grinned as that pride, quite unlike her, came back - that would not do for Twilight Sparkle.

But then the door to the chamber creaked open a second time, and Twilight stepped back, cursing under her breath as new hooffalls sounded. Her concentration slipped, and the magic dumbing her cell's gate failed as it clanged shut, but mercifully the noise was hidden still - ironically under the ranting of the newly-arrived guard, as he bellowed at what was presumably his subordinate for sleeping on the job.

"...Already bin warned once!" he was yelling in that thick, Fetloch accent. "The big man upstairs'll have yer hide if he thinks the prisoner's even eyein' up the door."

"Aye, captain, sir!" the unfortunate fellow blustered. "Sorry, captain, sir!"

"Sorry won't wash with Laird Highpine. Git outta here, go on. I'll take yer shift until Puffinfeather comes in at twilight, then we'll see about amendin' the rota. Git somepony competent in here."

There were further, hasty, mumbled apologies as the dismissed guardspony stumbled out. A huffed sigh told Twilight she was alone with the new captain, and she had to suppress her own exhalation of utter despair. She slumped back down against the stone wall of her prison as hooves on stone clopped towards her once more, and the newcomer drew into sight.

He was a unicorn, clad like the other Hockfall guards in clinking grey chain mail, rather than the gold or silver plate mail of Canterlot's stewards. His grey eyes frowned at her from a white face, his brown mane cut just long enough for his fringe to sweep around the base of his horn, no longer. A moment passed between them in which nothing was said, Twilight expecting him to merely go and sit back around the corner, taking her hopes of escape with him.

But then he smiled, expression softening. Twilight frowned in kind, unnerved, and then gasped, sitting up as a point of golden light appeared at the tip of his horn. Leaping up, she readied a spell of her own, certain that this captain - whoever he was - had an agenda of his own.

But this spell was not typical unicorn magic. No aura shone around his horn, and as she watched, the ball begin to oscillate, moving from side to side above his head, at first slowly, then faster and faster between two unseen points.

Twilight gaped, her own magic forgotten as the Fetlocher's coat began to darken, his muzzle thinning and browning apart from a strip of white from his horn to his chin. But the horn was also beginning to fade away, literally vanishing into thin air as two black prongs materialised on either side of it. It was between these that the magic ball bounced, blurred now as the illusion dissipated and Twilight found herself once more face to face with a creature she had hardly been expected to see.

"Longhorn?" she asked, incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come and admire the decor," the gazelle replied, sarcastically, the light of his alien magic fading. The coat of mail had faded with the rest of his disguise, leaving him clad in his trademark hat, and with a cloth bag slung over one side, though lacking his instrument. Twilight merely scowled at him. He ignored her, and reaching out, hooked his two-toed hoof over the gate's middle bar and pulled the cell door ajar. "It appears they forgot to lock you in, Doctor Sparkle."

"Oh, no," Twilight explained. "That was me. I, uh - I unlocked that."

"With magic?" Longhorn eyed her up, a solitary eyebrow rising sceptically - but the other quickly followed as shock dawned on his face. "Twilight!" he exclaimed. "The horncap!"

"It takes more than a little adamantium to hold me back," Twilight replied, grinning, but the gazelle shook his head.

"No," he urged, "you-"

There was a bang as Twilight's forgotten spell exploded within the dampener and it shattered like a china plate. The prisoner screwed her eyes tight shut, but she could still see the room around her blaze white for a moment. Fragments bounced across the cell and clanged off the bars, a couple coming to rest in the corridor outside. The pair fell silent for a moment as they looked around once more, taken aback.

"Funny," Twilight said, numbly, "I didn't know adamantium could do that."

"We should go now," Longhorn said, ignoring the comment. "Somepony upstairs may have heard that." He pulled the gate wide open and led Twilight to the door. "We'll get out through the Underbridge."

"That's what I was planning," Twilight said. "It's pretty close, there's a service entrance just up ahead."

"It must have been there when they first built the mansion," Longhorn mused. "I think this house is built on the site of the former keep - that'd explain the dungeons, at any rate."

"Tell me about it later," Twilight insisted as they came to the door. It was a sturdy affair, thick planks reinforced with iron. A big round iron ring served as a door handle, and it was with some trepidation that Longhorn laid a hoof on it.

"Wait," Twilight hissed, her horn flaring with silent magic as the hinges were encompassed in purple light which glowed for a second, before fading out. "Alright."

Longhorn pulled, and the door swung silently open. The grating squeaking of its hinges that had accompanied the real guard's exit were gone.

Unfortunately, the guard himself was not.

"Captain Cone sent me back to-" he began to explain, before the presence of the antelope and the prisoner registered. "Hold on-" His objection was silenced as Longhorn darted forwards, ramming him square on with his horns. The hapless soldier toppled to the ground with a grunt as Longhorn reached up and pulled his hat off, patting out a newly-formed dent.

"Quickly!" Twilight hissed, stepping around the body and onto the staircase leading upwards, the gazelle following. It was only ten or so steps before they reached a second staircase heading downwards to the left, from which the sound of rushing water drifted to their ears.

They turned, cutting down this new corridor, hurrying as quietly as hooved creatures could when running on stone.

"Shouldn't we have moved him?" Twilight asked.

"You were the one hurrying off," Longhorn retorted pointedly. "It's too late now anyway - once we get into the Underbridge, there's no way they'll catch us. It really is a maze down there."

The light dimmed as they ran, and Twilight had to light her horn to show the stairs ahead. It wasn't long until they came to a set of iron double doors, barred with a thick, heavy-looking plank on their side.

"This must be how they stopped intruders getting in through the tunnels," Longhorn observed. "Can you lift the bar off?"

Twilight nodded, already grabbing it in her aura and hefting the wooden beam to one side. "I won't be able to put it back on though," she cautioned.

Both creatures halted in shock as a shout of anger echoed down from above. In her surprise, Twilight dropped the heavy beam, and it clattered to the flagstones.

"Horseshit," she gasped, the gazelle raising an eyebrow in response. Whether he was amused or indignant, there was no time to ask which, as before more words could pass between them, urgent hooffalls began to reverberate through the stairwell.

"Come on," Longhorn urged her, shoving the door open. She followed without argument, darting after the bard as he began to sprint down the narrow gantry they had emerged onto.

If it hadn't been for their urgency, Twilight was certain she would have had to stop for several minutes upon emerging into the Underbridge. It was quite removed from anything she had expected from Hockfall, much like Canterlot's own crystal caves in its otherness. Some twenty feet above her sat the bottom of the bridge, while less than five below her, and clearly visible through the slimy metal mesh she navigated, was the Hock. A slight chill had pervaded in the dungeon, and it was more noticeable now, Twilight shivering and hoping that their flight would warm her up.

Longhorn darted to the right as they came to the end of the stone wall of the governor's mansion's basement, and they found themselves in a stone alleyway, running on slick rock of indeterminate type until they emerged on the other side and back onto the gantries. The place was a maze. It wasn't neatly planned or organised - pillars and walls were sunk into the river channel at seemingly random intervals, and the cris-crossing walkways simply went were they needed to be, following a pattern that eluded Twilight. Alone, she would have got hopelessly lost down here.

Alone, I wouldn't be being pursued, she thought to herself, almost involuntarily. No, I shouldn't be blaming him.

She shook the complaint from her head, trying desperately to hold the gazelle's pace, but a couple of minutes later he dropped out of sight around a corner. Slowing, the unicorn's breathing grew heavy. She was no athlete, and her time without food, however brief, had taken a toll on her.

"Twilight?" Longhorn called, trotting back into view. "Are you...?"

"I..." Twilight panted, "I'll be fine... I just need a moment..."

"I understand," he replied. They waited together in the dank as Twilight's breathing steadied itself, Longhorn looking back warily as she recovered. He didn't give her long - thirty seconds, forty, a little more perhaps - before Longhorn motioned her on again. "Come on," he gently insisted, "we can't rest on our laurels just yet."

"I don't hear anypony," Twilight remarked, almost unthinkingly, as they set off once more at a jog.

"But would you?" Longhorn asked. "Listen."

Twilight cocked her head for a moment, but she really should have realised his point sooner. Down here, in the vaulted Underbridge, the roar of the Hock was louder than ever before. It had been in the background for days now, and she had all but forgotten it. If somepony had indeed matched their course, they wouldn't hear them until they were too close to evade.

"You're right," she said, stepping up her pace, "no time to be tardy about things. Where are we headed?"

"Your friends are hiding in a basement just up ahead," Longhorn told her. "We'll pick them up, quickly, but then we have to get out of the city. Before too long they'll try to lock down the Underbridge ."

"How are we going to get out?" Twilight asked, worriedly. "There are already guards on every exit, and we're supposed to be leaving by train. The station is outside the east wall."

The bard shook his horned head. "Change of plan," he informed her. "There's one unguarded route - one that I'm fairly certain Pool and his minions won't put too much stock in. There's a hidden staircase in the Underbridge. The Traitor's Way. We can use it to descend to the Marshlow-"

"The Marshlow?" Twilight gasped. "No. That'll throw us off by weeks - months, even! I - look, I don't know how much you know, but we have to hurry. Now the Knights think we're moving east our - we have a decoy, a distraction we set in place some time ago. They aren't stupid, it won't hold up much longer now. They'll start investigating what we're really after."

"I know what you're planning," Longhorn said, as they entered another of the stone alleyways. Above them, the ceiling came down by a few feet, and, looking up, Twilight could see a circular iron ponyhole set into the roof. "Your friends told me. Here."

As he frowned for a moment, Twilight gasped as another ball of light formed between his horns. It shot up over their heads to bounce off the circular hatch with a clang. Twilight flinched, stepping back, half expecting to hear the clatter of angry guards from behind them, but nothing moved save for the swirling river.

Then the hatch itself began to glow, encompassed in a bright blue aura, as, with some difficulty, it was heaved away and across the stone above, scraping loudly before coming to a clunking stop, yet still no soldiers showed their faces. The only face to appear looked at them from above, a mussed blond mane swept to either side of a worried-looking muzzle.

"Applejack!"

"Twilight," her friend replied, relief washing over her face. "Git yerself up here. We ain't got long."

The Palace of Night and Day, Canterlot

Princess Celestia paced, impatient gold-shod hooves clinking against the balcony flagstones. Before her lay all of Canterlot, from the upper districts on the mountain terraces to the factory-towns and outer farmlands in the valley below. She could see the Equestrian Assembly, with its top flag proudly waving. She could see the Marble Arena, almost hear the whoops of the crowd in her ears. She could smell the barest whiff of chimney-smoke in her nostrils as it rose from the chimneys of train funnels and furnaces. And, not for the first time, she found herself not caring for any of it.

It was nighttime, and that did not help the issue. The indescribable wholeness she felt during the day was greatly comforting to her, but now, just gone dusk, she felt... Mortal? No, she was still above that - far, far above mere mortality. But she was lessened, somehow, diminished in the absence of a power that was still by rights and means within her.

The fact that she could not explain her own lacking merely made the feeling all the worse.

There was the faintest click behind her, and she jumped at it, whirling to see her sister enter the bedchamber with a scroll floating before her.

"Sister," she gasped, relief and worry suffusing her tones, "what news?"

"She is safe," Luna replied, earnestly. "They will move when she is rested."

"And how does she fare?" the elder princess pressed, still deeply concerned.

"The brutes tried to starve her, but our agent says she was surprisingly fit and well upon her return."

"Of course," Celestia muttered to herself, spirits lifting. "Twilight knows what she is doing, she remembers the spells. You remember Admiral Allweather's spell? The water one, the orb. She loved that little cantrip,  I taught it to her when she was nine. Oh, goodness, I should never have doubted her, Lulu, I never-"

"They are not out of the city yet, sister," Luna reminded her, cutting her off. Striding out onto the balcony she unfurled the missive, hoofing it over for her sister's eyes to see. It was not, as she had expected, a letter from Bluebell or Twilight. Rather, it was a report from the Intelligence Agency. A profile of one of Canterlot's least prolific enemies. "You need to focus. This stallion was visiting Hockfall. We think it was just our bad luck he happened to be there at the same time as Twilight."

"Laird Highpine," she murmured. "That raving lunatic. Fancies himself a Knight, am I correct?"

"More or less," Luna affirmed. "No faith in the principles of War or the Order. He simply envisages himself a better leader than you or I, and knows that he lacks the power to take what he wants. That along with an addiction to alcohol and wrestling make him a nasty brute, and he's got most of the High Fets under his proverbial wing. He may not sit well with the Order, sister, but he's got plenty of the dumb muscle that they actually need."

Celestia sighed, shaking her head. She fell silent as both sisters turned to the cityscape below. The night's revellers thronged the streets, happy pegasi darting to and fro through the air above. Cheering and music and singing drifted on the air, and the best part? This was no special occasion. This was just another night in the capital of Equestria, another happy night.

"They are all liars," she muttered, "and they believe their own falsehoods. How is it they can say we rule poorly when their own laws oppress their people, and yet our city prospers as it does tonight?"

"A lie comes easily to a coward's tongue if it will shift the blame," Luna replied, "but there is little we can do about it. Interfere and we give cause to their argument. At least while we ignore it we know it is false. That said, we are not perfect either," she added, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps a third alicorn in Canterlot will make them change their minds about opposing us."

"And give us the strength to extend our gaze - not our power, but our presence, that which the Heartlands feel. Your love has made them prosperous, sister." Luna did not falter as she continued. "But Twilight does not believe she will be able to return."

Celestia shook her head. "Neither do I. But I cannot say for certain whether she is right or not until we know for ourselves."

"We should have offered her more comfort when the letter arrived."

"Then we would have been lying." Celestia frowned at the ground, the whole matter angering her. "I simply hope she reconciles the matter with herself before she reaches the Forest."

"Do you not think Miss Rarity would do an adequate job of protecting the Gate?"

"Not so. But I do know that you and I would both prefer Twilight to live beside us through the ages."

"I know," Luna muttered, "but what if she must live it out alone?"

"Then the world is not as just as I had hoped," her sister replied, "but maybe a little fairer than if she didn't go at all."

Bluebell's Basement, Hockfall

Rarity watched as Twilight chewed, ravenously attacking the thick, stodgy bread and thinner broth that they had been subsisting on for the past two days. To her, it had been torturous after more than a week of fine dining, but trying to look at it from Twilight's point of view, she could see the appeal.

They had been hiding out in what Bluebell called her 'safehouse,' but it was really little more than a basement, hidden beneath an old apartment building who's landlady the Intelligence Agency had paid off. Stone walls and spartan furniture gave away none of the glamour Rarity had read of in spy novels, but then again, a great many of her expectations had been subverted recently. Why should this one have been any different?

"The Princesses know you're safe," Bluebell was saying, "and they've approved our plan of action. We'll head for the Sunken Stairwell as soon as you're ready."

"They got your letter sharpish this time," Applejack grumbled from where she stood in the corner, anxiously keeping half an eye on the ponyhole cover.

"Aye," the mare answered, the slightest trace of a Fetloch accent filtering into her Heartland tones. "The mana-mail system is mired in bureaucracy. When a simple reconnaissance agent in a no-problem town like me, here, has their permissions expire the office is hardly quick to renew them."

"I'd hardly call it a no-problem town, not now," Longhorn pointed out, a wry grin on his face.

"I'm sorry I missed you in the plaza," Twilight apologised between mouthfuls. "I saw you under that cloak and I thought you were the threat."

"I understand," Bluebell replied, softly. "Just - well, after my partner disappeared I had to keep a low profile."

"Oh, yeah, Canterlot agents normally work in pairs, right? What?" Twilight asked, as Rarity shook her head slightly.

"I'll explain later," Bluebell promised, even quieter than before as she turned her face away. "But now we really should go."

"Can we be sure that the Underbridge is safe now?" Rarity asked, concerned.

"Not for certain," Twilight answered, "but at a guess there aren't enough guards in Hockfall to cover the entire network of gantries without raising suspicion amongst the populace, if at all."

"And if we run into trouble, I'm sure Doctor Sparkle here can just sweep it away," Longhorn joked. "I've never heard of a unicorn breaking an adamantium horncap before."

"An adamant..." Rarity muttered, shocked. "Twilight..."

"Um." Twilight mumbled.

"Twilight, darling, what's your hornpower?" Rarity asked, pressing the matter. "I know you haven't told the truth when I've asked you in the past! You said five hundred-"

"Well, holy-"

"Applejack!"

"Geez!" the farmer exclaimed. "Sorry! But five hundred is a heck of a lot. Ah mean, back when RD was on tornado duty she was pushin' for everypony to break ten wingpower. Five hundred-"

"Hornpower and wingpower aren't the same," Twilight cut in, "They use completely different scales. Hornpower is calculated to a standard index of one hundred, using test results from all over Equestria. A hornpower of one hundred is standard. Typically these are unicorns who use their magic purely for simple telekinesis. Any form of practice or speciality typically drives the number up."

"My hornpower is one hundred and eighty," Rarity explained, "one hundred and eighty six, to be precise. And because I am precise," she added, "years of working with great attention to telekinetic detail has aided in that."

Applejack frowned. "So then you're, like... I dunno-"

"Nearly as strong, magically, as two average unicorns," Rarity affirmed. "You have to remember that there are creatures out there in the hinterlands who never learn to express their magical capabilities. Twilight, on the other hand, has spent the majority of her life working to manage them. When they reported that your brother had a hornpower of two thousand I began to have my doubts. When-"

"The scale is far from perfect," Twilight was protesting over her, "I wrote an article about it, how-"

"Enough," Bluebell said, firmly, whipping away the empty bowl with which the scholar had lowered her face, a look of slight shame revealed there. "This is talk for safer times. We need to go, and we need to go now."

"Very well," Rarity said with slight reluctance, standing as her companions pulled on saddlebags, grabbing her own from where they lay against the wall of the underground chamber.

"What are you two going to do?" Twilight asked Bluebell and Longhorn. "Are you coming with us?"

"Both of us have been associated with you, so it's not safe for us to stay here," Bluebell answered as they gathered around the iron hatch. "The Princesses asked me to accompany you as there's little left I can achieve here."

"I shall also accompany you," Longhorn added, "but after we exit the Marshlow I'm afraid I must head west again. The Princesses have summoned me back to Canterlot. It seems I may know too much."

Twilight nodded, readying her magic to lift the cover. "They - these guys told you everything, right?"

"As much as they thought to," the bard confirmed. Twilight gave no indication of her approval or otherwise.

Rarity watched as the heavy iron disc was hovered aside once more.  For her it had been a great effort of will to heft the plate, but Twilight did it without pausing for thought. Once more she wondered how powerful her friend was - if magic was her innate talent, then surely her readings were higher than she was letting on. They had to be.

"The coast is clear," Bluebell announced, peering down. The fugitives unfurled a small rope ladder, hooking it to the rim of the hole before beginning to clamber down. Bluebell and Applejack descended with practiced ease. Twilight struggled a little, and the bard was especially cautious about the safety of his mandolin, which he insisted on bringing, but curiously capable of getting himself down.

Rarity, however, found the experience... novel.

Ladders are not meant for ponykind. Their use requires a certain skill - hooking a hoof over each rung before making one's ascent. While the equine races typically favour shallower staircases, with ladders thinner rungs are preferable to them, for it is simpler for them to get some semblance of a grip. Even then, though, it takes a certain dexterity and experience to climb with ease, even on a stable ladder. On a rope structure - with inconstant rungs and positioning - it is considerably harder, even for beings with opposable thumbs.

This is, of course, merely a long-winded way of saying that Rarity fell from the ladder to the stone floor below.

She may or may not have yelled - although if she had made a sound, it would likely have been more of a squeal, so she grudgingly admitted to herself. But more important right now was the acute pain in her back, on which she had landed.

"Rarity!" Twilight gasped. "Oh - goodness-"

"Aaa-" The white mare started to scream before Bluebell clamped her mouth shut.

"Hold it together, Rarity," the spy mare hissed, as pained tears began to creep from Rarity's eyes. "You're stronger than this, right?"

I'm not, Rarity thought, I'm really not.

This was never supposed to have happened. They should have been in and out of the city in a day, on to Oslokai, on to the airship, on and on and on without setback. But the idea that that would ever have worked was ludicrous. She should have never come. She wasn't strong like Applejack, or clever like Twilight, or brave like-

"Ah!" she squealed as something prodded at her back.

"Just bruised," Longhorn said, speaking to everypony. "She'll be fine. Come on, Miss, we've got a way yet to go."

Rarity muttered wordlessly under her breath as she took his proffered hoof and rose, the injustice of the past couple of days starting to weigh heavy on her. She was stuck down here in the cold, dank, slimy Underbridge, where, Bluebell had told her conversationally, some untreated sewage from the poorer districts of Hockfall ended up. She was a fugitive, unkempt, adrift, soon to be cast out into the wilds.

And all this came about when you offered to help crown - or even become - goddess of death. It was never going to be a smooth trip, she reminded herself, ruefully. As they say, hindsight is perfect. Her teeth chattered involuntarily in the unheated gloom.

"What will we do once we reach the Marshlow?" Twilight was asking Bluebell up ahead. If Rarity's understanding was right - having been underground for two days already, she couldn't be sure, but at a guess they were heading north-east. They moved against the current at any rate, the water flowing away from them through the dim tunnels. Twilight had lit her horn to give them light, but they followed Longhorn's lead, weaving through the Underbridge towards their unseen goal.

Her back ached as they trudged on, but she tried to put it to the back of her mind. They had greater concerns now.

"Your sister-in-law, the Princess Cadence-"

"What?" Twilight exclaimed, "Cadence's estate? No. I'm not putting her or her daughter in danger-"

"Twi', listen," Applejack interjected. "There ain't no place safer than Cadence's we can aim for right now. It's just a few days walk from the edge of the Marshlow, and it's got its own guard unit. If we're followed, whoever's on our tail'll think twice about a scuffle when they get to Cambridle."

"The Knights aren't ready for war yet," Bluebell continued. "If they think they can grab the Elements from you on their own terms, then they'll take their chances, but if they actually come up against the Guard, Canterlot will come down on their heads, and they aren't ready for that yet."

"Could they ever be?" Rarity asked, the conditional nature of the earth mare's statement bothering her.

"We think there are twelve High Knight Commanders across the world," Bluebell began, "but there are several more lesser members of the Order beneath them. Between them, we estimate they could muster a force to rival the Royal Guard, but they lack the power to take on an alicorn. That's why they need the Elements. What each of them wants to do after the royal sisters are deposed - well, they don't agree on that."

"We didn't know the Knights had control of Hockfall," Twilight added, "but now that we do, I'd guess it's the closest defensible city they have to Canterlot. If Highpine or Governor Pool strike against the Crown then Princess Celestia will probably instigate some kind of martial law. The other Commanders across Equestria would publicise this as imperialism, but it'd set their plans way back, at least in the short term."

"Is that what you think the Princesses should do?" Bluebell asked.

"No, I didn't mean that-"

"Hush!" Longhorn hissed, halting. They stumbled to a stop, there on a steel gantry between two slime-ridden walls. Rarity was greatly glad for the hoofrails, for it was only wide enough for one pony, and slippery under her hooves. While she was quite capable of swimming, she didn't fancy her chances against the Hock's current, to speak nothing of the waterfall beyond the Underbridge.

She wasn't sure which bothered her more though - the treacherous current, or the hurried hooffalls headed their way. The light from Twilight's horn went out, but the gloom did not overcome them, for as the purple-tinged glow died an orange flickering from before them took its place, growing ever closer and companied by the mingled grunts of stallions.

Rarity took a nervous few steps back. "Twilight-"

The mage's horn erupted as the first guardspony appeared from the stone passageway ahead. Longhorn yelped, ducking as a bolt of lavender light sailed over his head, followed by several in rapid succession. When the first one struck the leading guard, he didn't have time to should before he vanished in the glow, his fellows joining him as the latter missiles hit. A rearguard remained untouched, but he faltered, terrified at the fate of his comrades, and Longhorn had ample time to rush forward and ram him as he had the colt in the dungeons. The stallion crumpled like wet newspaper, although his superior would later claim that such was by far more useful.

Rarity covered her eyes with a hoof, fearing violence, but couldn't help but watch in horror as their would-be attackers (or so she presumed) disappeared. "Twilight..." she said again, horrified, as Twilight and the bard stepped calmly forward into the space the guards had occupied before.

"Teleport spell," Twilight said, nonchalantly. "Dumped them back in the governor's mansion."

"Sweet Celestia..." Rarity breathed. Teleportation magic was something she'd never herself achieved. It required strength of mind and body, needing much energy to fuel and great concentration to accurately employ. But Twilight was trembling where she stood, she noticed, and she realised with a grimace that her friend was pushing herself to the limit.

"What did you want me to do, kill them?" Twilight asked, half-jokingly.

"Don't say that," Rarity snapped back as they started walking once more. "Don't ever say that. It'll never come to that."

"Sounds mighty optimistic of ya," Applejack muttered. "I don't think they're the only fellas lurking down here waitin' for us."

"Not far now, though," Longhorn said, cheerfully.

That creature! Rarity complained to herself. He's incorrigible. Stop smiling for a moment, would you? She was almost glad that when she glanced back at Bluebell the mare was still grim-faced. At least I'm not the only one taking this seriously.

There was a flash of light, and Twilight's staff appeared at her side, floating along next to her in the faintest purple glow. Rarity gulped at its appearance. Staffs were not exclusively weapons, merely conductors for magic - but she was under no illusions as to why Twilight had drawn it. She could not afford to tire herself with the safety of their enemies again tonight.

They walked for five tense minutes more without further incident. It was not long until they came to a chamber - the metal path they had been walking on gave way to a stone floor quite unlike any others they had seen before in the Underbridge. It was wide and square, the size of a large room, a wealthy mare's parlour perhaps (though far less inviting). A circular plate, seemingly iron, was set in the middle, much like the cover of the ponyhole they had escaped through, although about thrice as large, plain and undecorated.

"Governor Pool won't have had guards down here and not thought of this place," Bluebell muttered, "there's no way he doesn't know about it, it was crucial during the Long War. It's called the Traitor's Way for a reason."

"Maybe," Longhorn said, "but do you see any soldiers?"

The party stopped, having spread out around the plate. Rarity glanced agitatedly around - there were four of the gantries leading onto the platform, one from each compass point, each entering into one of the Underbridge's dark stone alleyways between the pillars. Every time her gaze shifted, she thought she saw something move, but she couldn't be certain, nervous as she was. Perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her.

So when Twilight wheeled around, pointing her staff upriver, she yelled and dropped to the floor, hooves over her head, quivering. But no spells were loosed.

Twilight's head was cocked to one side. From where Rarity stood (for she stood again, rising slowly) she could not see her friend's face, but she assumed a look of interest rested upon it. She'd known Twilight long enough to spot her little head-tilts and tail-flicks when she was intrigued by something unexpected. Right now, though, unexpected was not something Rarity had been hoping for.

"Cowlmane," Twilight said, calmly. Eyes wide, Rarity watched as a hooded pony stepped forward from the shadows, hooves inaudible over the Hock as they clinked against the iron he walked on.

"Magus Sparkle," he replied. Was that reverence in his voice? Awe?

"Are you here to stop us?" Twilight asked him, still calm.

"Yes," he answered, "and no. I could never hope to stop you, Magus Sparkle. Your power is far beyond mine." So it was respect, then, that was there in his words, Rarity realised. "I do not even wish to stop you, regardless of the fact I could not. But I must try, or at least be able to claim to. I cannot go back and lie to my masters."

"Nopony can be a servant of two masters," Longhorn said. Cowlmane's gaze remained fixed on Twilight. The two stared each other down, unflinching and uncertain. Their horns remained inert; they summoned no spells.

"Strike me down," Cowlmane urged her. "Do it and go. You'll buy yourself time, save yourself hurt. Let them think we fought."

"Don't you care about stopping us?" Twilight asked. "If you serve the Knights, how can you just let us slip away?"

"The Commanders upstairs think they are ready to take on Canterlot, one way or another," the robed pony sneered. "They are not, and nothing they can take from you will change that. You are not as strong as they think, Twilight Sparkle, and I will not let them destroy our order in their haste. Now, strike me down."

"Not as strong? They've already underestimated me-"

There was a grunt from the shadows, Cowlmane's head swinging around just too slow to catch the pair off hind hooves that clunked against his skull, felling him. He collapsed, a quiet groan escaping his lips as Applejack turned and stepped forwards, face grim and set. Twilight had been concentrating so hard on her adversary that she hadn't seen the farmer move. "I wish you hadn't done that," she murmured.

"Whatever he was gonna say, I don't care to hear it," AJ huffed back. "Ya can't trust him, Twi'. And anyway - I gave him what he wanted."

"I-"

"It's done now," Longhorn cut across, drawing both of their attention. "We shouldn't linger on it." Beside him, Rarity had taken a nervous step backwards, eyeing the fallen body with scared, wary eyes. Bluebell glared at the fallen mage, eyes smouldering, but said nothing. "We should have been gone by now."

The bard stepped forwards, onto the circular plate. Crouching, he inspected it for a moment in the dim light before pressing a cloven forehoof to an unseen point. He had to fumble for a moment, but then a clanking mechanism began to grind into motion, and the cover began to slide away, sideways, into the floor, revealing a spiral staircase below.

"Thank goodness that worked." He grinned. "Relying on old tales for escape plans is never the most reliable strategy, but it seems this time we were lucky."

Twilight hmed at that but said nothing. Instead, she simply waved her companions on with a nod, lighting her horn once more as they descended into the darkness. The stairs were steep for a pony, but high-ceilinged, allowing them to focus on their hooffalls without worrying about their heads. Longhorn entered the stairwell last. Twilight, ahead of him, couldn't see what he did, but she heard the plate cover slide shut again, blocking the passage to those ignorant of it.

Not that that included the Knights. Cowlmane had been waiting for them, of course, but he seemed inclined towards letting them escape, which was... Worrying. Helping the Knights was not something that Twilight wished to do, but how could she not when any course of action aided one faction?

She shook her head, trying to forget the problem left behind and focus on that ahead. That being that they were tired, would likely be pursued, and had half of the Marshlow between them and any trustworthy face - not to mention that she couldn't speak the truth of their mission to the bard, for she didn't truly trust him either, no matter what her friends may already have told him. Now she was worrying about a whole new problem, she realised. Unable to stop thinking altogether, she fretted in the dimness, her jaw working as she struggled with the problems in her head.

After some fifteen minutes they reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a narrow tunnel, with brackets in the walls that might once have held torches. By the time they reached its end, they had heard no sounds of pursuit behind them, but Bluebell was not satisfied.

"This could easily be a trap," she warned, as they came to a plain, stone door. "The Knights know of this passage." She would not allow them to open the door until Twilight had distributed the party's weapons from their secret place, save for the Elements. They felt a little silly then, when they pushed through into the early morning outside armed with axe, staff and dagger, only to find the expanse of the Marshlow awaiting them and nothing else.

"Clear," Bluebell grunted, stowing her own dirk. Some way to the west, the waters of the Hock rushed down from the cliffside. They were a little east of the city, and had finally crossed the great river. But they were far from safe, they knew, Twilight throwing more than one nervous glance back at the city, and spotting her compatriots do the same.

But they pressed on, their faces each set with a different kind of determination. Applejack's was grim, yet with the same kind of intent she usually held when dedicating herself to the task. Rarity's was uncertain, somehow, as if she knew that there were worse things in store for them than the mud of the flats but that she desperately wanted to complain about it anyway. And Bluebell's  smouldered with a different kind of strength entirely.

"You won't be able to magic yourself out of trouble again," their new companion warned her. "If they chase us out here you can't just drop them out of sight. You may even have to kill."

"I would if I had to," Twilight replied, unflinching, "but I don't know about the other two."

"I don't know if you could either," Bluebell said. "Just because your body can fight doesn't mean your mind will let you."

"I know what we're resisting here. We stand between the Knights and a new civil war."

"The big picture won't matter when you look a dead stallion in the eyes and realise that he-" Bluebell caught herself, stopping. "You know what? Never mind. If you think you're ready to fight, I won't try and convince you otherwise. It might save our lives, even if it costs somepony else theirs."

"Have you ever... Have you ever killed another pony?" Twilight asked, uncertainly. Was this something she could really ask?

"I've killed four," she was told, Bluebell not looking her way as she spoke, focusing on the way ahead. "And I'd kill again, easily. Especially if it were the Knights against us. They... They killed my fiance, Twilight," she said, faltering for the first time since they met. "When we discovered Highpine and Pool were meeting privately, we delved into the matter so we could report to Princess Celestia. They caught us and threw him off the Terraduct, and then our letter was lost. Nopony warned you that the Knights were in town. He died for nothing."

"Not nothing," Twilight said, trying to soothe the mare, whose voice was starting to thicken and eyes to cloud. "You saved Rarity and Applejack. They were never taken hostage, they - you saved them, Bluebell," she insisted. Bluebell did not reply, but she blinked away her tears. Her resolve to escape seemed even stronger after that.

The sun was rising as they rejoined the Hock, one of its smaller channels filtering out into the reedy marshlands sluggishly curving around to block their way, forcing them to turn and follow it. Rarity was yawning obviously and the rest of the party carried tiredness in their eyes.

Seeing this, Twilight turned and muttered to the spy, "do you think we're far enough away to take a few hours rest yet?"

Bluebell glanced back at the city of Hockfall. They were travelling south-east, away from the cliff's foot, but they could still see the bizarre township in the distance. She looked back to Twilight, as if to answer, but then her face fell and her eyes widened. Twilight's head snapped round to look, only to wish that she hadn't.

The corpse of a giant brown earth pony festered in the muddy channel. Lying on its side,  where the fur wasn't matted, it had rotted away, leaving great holes in the creature's flesh. The two legs that floated on the surface were bent at sickening angles, and a trail of dried black blood down the side of its face, which had once contained eyes, hinted to Twilight that maybe it hadn't been an earth pony after all.

"Not yet," Bluebell replied, to her credit, calmly. They veered inland for the sake of their friends who had been fortunate to be behind them and not see the dead stallion. Twilight decided she agreed - or at least, she would take the excuse. She had no idea how the poor creature had died, but she did know that while she had been tired before, she probably wouldn't be sleeping for another few hours now.