Stormfeather

"Star Stream!" Stormfeather and Star Stream both sat up in their beds in the Ponyville Hospital. Yesterday Stormfeather had helped foil Star’s ill-conceived wedding to her long-lost ex-special somepony, Mistletoe, who had given her a love potion derived from Changeling magic to starve her of love and convince her to marry him. Afterward, Stormfeather, Star, and their two friends Royal Gift and Broken Arrow had made a trip to the hospital. While the doctors weren’t able to explain the explosion of white magic that had knocked Star unconscious and began the commotion that led to Mistletoe being taken into custody, they suggested she stay the night anyway—and once they’d seen Stormfeather and Broken Arrow, they gave the same advice. Stormfeather had agreed, having no intention of leaving Star that night, but Arrow had given some excuse and scampered off. Stormfeather wished he’d stayed; she knew he was feeling as sore as she was. Royal Gift—the only one of them who seemed entirely recovered from the previous day’s excitement—galloped into the room. “It’s my father,” he said to Star without greeting. “He’s terribly ill!” “What’s wrong with him?” Star asked. “He’s got canters,” Royal Gift said, breathless. “Canters is deadly,” Stormfeather said. Star shot her a glance that said, You’re not helping, and she quickly fell silent. “I know,” Royal Gift said, looking distraught. Star went over to him and put her hoof around his shoulders comfortingly. “The doctors say there’s nothing they can do.” Desperate to be helpful after being so insensitive, Stormfeather suggested, “The library in the Castle of the Two Sisters has a section all about medicine. Maybe we could find some information there that would help.” “What do you expect to find in a bunch of old scrolls?” Star asked. “The doctors are the authority on modern medicine. If there was anything that could be done, they would know about it.” “Thanks, Stormfeather.” Royal Gift stood. “But Star’s right. I should get back to my father.” Star Stream walked with him out of the room. Stormfeather sat on her bed and stared after them. She hadn’t had an opportunity to take a good look at the resources in the castle, but she knew that sometimes ancient information didn’t make it down to modern times, even the best of it. If it was barely possible there might be something there to help Royal Gift’s father, she would feel awful if she came across it later rather than sooner. She hopped out of bed. It was time to check out of the hospital and get back to her primary objective in Ponyville: documenting ancient scrolls. — Approximately four hours and a strong cup of chamomile later, Stormfeather barged back into the hospital, saddlebag in tow. She’d found exactly the kind of scroll she’d hoped to find—now all she had to do was convince Royal Gift it was something worth pursuing. When she poked her head into the room where his father was meant to be staying, she was surprised at how crowded it was. She didn’t know Royal Gift had such a large family. She glimpsed her friend with Star at his side; catching the Unicorn’s eye, Stormfeather gestured to Royal Gift and then beckoned with her hoof. She backed out of the room and waited for Star to rouse Royal Gift and join her. “How is he?” Stormfeather remembered to ask when her friends slipped into the corridor. “Not well, but holding steady,” Star Stream answered. “I found this.” Stormfeather pulled the scroll out of her saddlebag and extended it toward Royal Gift, but it was Star who took it and unrolled it with her magic, holding it for both of them to read. Stormfeather waited anxiously for them to finish. Finally her friends looked up at her. “What is this?” Royal Gift asked. “It’s the scroll of a wise Unicorn healer called White Ring. She studied alongside Mage Meadowbrook as her apprentice before she disappeared,” Stormfeather explained. “But she left and went to the Appaloosan Mountains. Legend says she specialized in incurable diseases, just like canters.” “Stormfeather, this is only a legend,” Royal Gift said. “Not all legends turn out to be true.” “Mage Meadowbrook’s did,” Stormfeather reminded him. “This is a pony who worked closely with her. Why shouldn’t we assume she existed too?” “You’re not trying to suggest this healer might still be alive,” Star Stream said. “I’m pretty sure what happened to the Pillars was an exception, not the standard.” “Of course not. But if White Ring was one of Equestria’s wisest healers, and she worked specifically with incurable diseases, then her research is probably still somewhere in the Appaloosan Mountains.” Stormfeather stared at her friends, hoping her reasoning was sound—and that it was sinking in. “I don’t know about this,” Royal Gift said. “I don’t want to leave my father for some wild goose chase.” Stormfeather guessed that what he was really concerned about was the possibility of his father succumbing to the disease before they returned. But if White Ring was real, and they managed to find her research… “We can’t go gallivanting around the mountains without a good idea of where we’re going,” Star agreed. “We’d be lost and wandering for weeks, and that wouldn’t do anypony any good. And we certainly can’t ask Mage Meadowbrook.” “I’m in Ponyville on assignment from the Equestria Historical Society,” Stormfeather told them. “There’s bound to be ponies like me in the Appaloosan Mountains, plus geographers and mountaineers too. They’ll be able to tell us everything we need to know. They might even have found White Ring’s collection already!” “This is a whim,” Royal Gift reminded her. “And aren’t you still sore from the camping trip? Do you really want to go running off into the mountains again? What if this healer was never there in the first place?” “If your father gets worse,” Stormfeather responded, “wouldn’t you want to say you did everything you could to help him?” Royal Gift hesitated. Star Stream nudged him. “She’s crazy, but she has a point,” she said gently. Finally the stallion nodded. “Fine. I might regret it, but let’s try.” — Fortunately, there was a train that ran through the Appaloosan Mountains to a town called the Caracows, which was at the base of a waterfall running out of the mountains. It was the closest they could ride to their destination, and after contacting a pony in the Equestria Historical Society, Stormfeather was able to get the name of another researcher stationed in the Caracows who could help point them in the right direction. The train ride was a long one, and the ponies spoke little. Stormfeather spent most of it reading. She couldn’t, in good conscience, remove the old scrolls and books from the Castle of the Two Sisters and carry them on such a long trip, for fear they would be damaged; however, she had taken them to a reputable Unicorn copyist in Ponyville and had copies made to bring along. She searched them for information on where they were going and what they might run into. Star Stream glanced over a few of her copied pages, but Royal Gift spent most of the trip staring out the window, probably wondering why he had agreed to this with his father in such poor condition. Since the train was typically the only way ponies traveled back and forth between Equestria and Amarezonia, the land to the south, the Caracows was a bustling small city with a wide variety of creatures wandering its streets. Stormfeather recognized a few unfamiliar species from her books, but still felt horribly foreign walking among them. At least here she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about her larger-than-average wings. They were greeted in the train station by an enthusiastic violet Earth Pony, dark as the night sky with an unkempt mint green and purple mane, who introduced herself as Ink Stain. This was the contact that Stormfeather had been directed toward, and she seemed more than thrilled to show them to her home. As soon as she stepped through the door, Stormfeather recognized a kindred interest. Ink Stain’s house—a modest cottage much like Stormfeather’s own in Ponyville—was covered floor to ceiling in books and scrolls. Stormfeather hadn’t expected to find much information at all here, but it seemed Ink Stain possessed every written word in the Caracows. The researcher led them through the maze of books to a small stack in a corner. By the dust scattered on the floor, Stormfeather guessed these books had sat untouched for a long time until she’d sent her message about this mission. Ink Stain had probably uncovered them, dusted them, and set them aside as relevant information just before they’d arrived. Stormfeather glanced through them—completely zoned out as Ink Stain spoke to Royal Gift and Star Stream—and sorted through which ones she expected might be the most helpful on their quest. When she turned back, having chosen only a couple of the books and a scroll that looked like it had seen better days, she noticed that her friends had gained a few things as well. Ink Stain had loaded them up with maps and what few mountaineering supplies she had, and was describing a pony that may be able to help guide them into the mountains. As they left Ink Stain and began following the directions she had given them toward the mountain pony’s camp, Stormfeather began to feel very weighed down—not only by her packs, which were now a couple books and a number of maps heavier, but emotionally. Glancing at her friends, she could see that Royal Gift looked drained, almost as though he was losing confidence with each step further from his father’s bedside. Star Stream was expressionless, and neither looked at them nor spoke. She kept her eyes on the road ahead and led the way through the busy streets toward the edge of town. Finally, Star Stream stopped. The edge of town ran right up into the foothills of the mountains, so near that Stormfeather had scarcely noticed gaining the elevation. She stood beside Star Stream, Royal Gift on her opposite, and gazed at the rugged cabin before them. It was every bit the sort of place she expected to find a mountain pony—that is, just on the verge of falling down, as if its owner wasn’t home enough to maintain it properly. Stormfeather thought of her own little cabin, and wondered how many adventures she would have to go on before her home started to look like this one. “Do you think anypony’s home?” Royal Gift asked. “No clue,” said Star Stream. Stormfeather stared at the door, not sure whether she hoped the mountain pony was there or not. Without help, they had no leads and no hope of finding the healer, and this would be a wasted trip. But she also wasn’t certain she could handle another unfamiliarity. Royal Gift knocked on the door. There was no response, so he knocked again. "Hello? Anypony home?" The door opened without warning, causing Royal Gift to jump back in surprise. A white muzzle poked through the slit in the door. "What do you want?" it asked in an ambiguous, growly voice. But it wasn't the unfriendliness that caught Stormfeather off guard. The pony had fangs! "We were told we could find a guide here," Royal Gift said. "We're looking for something in the mountains." The door opened wider, revealing the bearer of the fangs fully. It was a mare the size of any other pony, with some noticeable physical differences—the fangs were one, and she also had tufted ears and curious, unfeathered wings folded against her side. The pony herself looked weathered as an old novel, all white with a dark amber mane cut straight but otherwise neglected. With her fangs and wrinkled leathery wings lending to the image, she looked exactly like something that had been left out in the rain too long. "What do you hope to find?" the mare asked. "We're looking for research by a Unicorn healer called White Ring," offered Star Stream. "We have reason to believe we can find it in these mountains." "You treasure hunters?" "No. My father is very sick," Royal Gift said. "We're hoping White Ring found something that could cure him." "Hmm." The mare nodded. "You're looking for the Maze." The ponies exchanged looks. "What maze?" asked Star Stream. "White Ring's Maze," the mare said, as if that explained everything. "Led ponies there before. Never been in." "Why not?" Star Stream prompted. "Too dangerous." The ponies looked at each other again. While this pony might be an experienced guide, it was clear they weren't going to get much information out of her. As they were trying to think of what to say next, the mare disappeared inside and reappeared a moment later with saddlebags and a bedroll on her back. “Let’s go,” she said, walking past them without a second glance. The three followed a few paces behind. “Have you ever seen another pony like her?” Royal Gift whispered. Stormfeather shook her head, but Star Stream said, “I think she’s a Bat Pony, but I didn’t know they were like ordinary ponies. I thought they were an accidental mutation.” “Partly right,” the mare called from ahead. “We originally came from an accidental cross between a pony and a vampire fruit bat, but that’s a primitive version of our species. We prefer to be called Jervils, and in these parts, we’re common.” “And what should we call you specifically?” Royal Gift asked. “Toadstool, if you must call me,” she responded, “though I hope you don’t plan to.” She cast a glance over her shoulder; the look in her pale silver eyes was clearly a warning. — After that conversation, the ponies enjoyed a slightly awkward, not quite companionable silence. The journey was a long and arduous one, with many challenges along the way, and by the time Toadstool announced they had reached the entrance to the Maze, Stormfeather was beginning to wonder if they would have the strength to solve it. The entrance was little more than a crack in the cliffside, so well concealed that Stormfeather was glad they had enlisted the help of Toadstool to show them where to go; even with their detailed maps, they would never have known where to go or what they were looking for. Toadstool accepted her bits—with some amount of annoyance, explaining that Equestrian bits were not worth much in Amarezonia and that future transactions ought to be trades, if they could acquire anything worthwhile—and headed off again without so much as a farewell. The three friends watched her go until she disappeared around a rock pile. Then finally, Star Stream suggested, "Why don't we rest a while before going in?" Stormfeather and Royal Gift agreed. Nopony was eager to lose sight of the sky just yet, and they had no idea what the Maze would bring. Stormfeather wanted to get one last look at her scrolls by the light of day before they went underground. They had brought lanterns, but they had no way of knowing how big the Maze was or how many candles they would need. It was a good thing Star Stream had come along, and could use her magic to produce light if necessary. The next morning, it was Stormfeather who led the way into the cave after one last glance at her map, which was of little use beyond the first few feet of the entrance as nopony had ever mapped the Maze before. With a lantern in her mouth, her chest warm from the flame, she returned the old maps to her saddlebag and drew out a blank scroll. She was no cartographer, but they didn’t know what they would encounter in the Maze, and she wanted to make sure they could find their way back out. Despite her lantern, she couldn’t see how far the opening corridor went for the darkness. The cavern was narrow, so they had to walk single file, and the air was dense and heavy with dust. Stormfeather hoped they didn’t come across anything that would require all of them, because she could unfold her wings only enough to grip her scroll and a pen; Royal Gift and Star Stream wouldn’t be able to help her. After what seemed like an eternity of endless darkness, after passing at least three passages jutting off from the straight corridor, the walls began angling outward until it opened up into a cavern. Stormfeather stopped just inside, at the edge of a cliff leading to a deep crevice, and her friends halted beside her. At the bottom, she could just make out the reflective surface of murky standing water, but there was no way of knowing how deep it was or how long the crevice stretched. “How do we get across?” Star Stream asked. Stormfeather followed her gaze. It was distantly too far to jump, and going by Star’s question, the Unicorn apparently didn’t know any transportation spells. Stormfeather had brought rope, but she didn’t see anything she could tie it to, and she knew she wasn’t strong enough to carry her friends across. “Let me look,” she said around the lantern in her mouth, and, spreading her wings, descended slowly and cautiously down into the cavern. It was a long way down. When she got near the water, she heard Royal Gift call, “What do you see?” Stormfeather transferred the lantern from her mouth to one hoof and called back, “Just water.” Scarcely had the words left her mouth than a shadow passed beneath the water. With a powerful upstroke she instinctively jerked away from it, and just in time—jaws surged out of the water and snapped shut, wrenching a few blue hairs out of her tail. She saw several more shadows move under the water—six that she could see—and quickly rose out of reach. If she hadn’t passed the lantern out of her mouth, she probably would have dropped it, but it was tightly bound to her hoof. “There are alligators down here,” she called up. Looking down at the alligators circling underneath her, their eyes fixed hungrily on her, she added more quietly to herself, “Very angry.” “Is there anything else?” Royal Gift called from above. “Anything we can use to get across?” Being careful to keep her tail well out of reach of the snapping gators, Stormfeather slowly flew the length of the cavern, but she saw nothing of note—except a pair of what appeared to be drainage chutes, one halfway down the wall at one end, and the other practically on the ceiling at the other end. “Are those drains?” Royal Gift called from where he was standing, leaning over the edge to see better. “That seems odd.” “Well, whoever designed it must not have known much about drainage,” Star Stream commented. “Anypony can see that doesn’t work very well.” “Unless it was designed that way,” Royal Gift said. “But what would be the purpose?” Star shot back. “And why is the water so low?” Royal Gift added. Stormfeather only half-listened to their conversation as she watched the alligators circling below. Her friends’ questions were good ones, but neither had asked the one floating around in her own mind. It wasn’t totally unthinkable that alligators would live happily in a place like this, provided enough small creatures wandered in and fell into the cavern. But why were they so angry? She flew over and inspected the lower drain. It was dry. Observation of the other one yielded the same result. It seemed neither had drained anything in a long time. Stormfeather returned to Royal Gift and Star Stream, who were deep in an argument about something or other. “Those alligators must be hungry,” she said, but nopony heard her. She looked over the edge at the dark water below, then back at her bickering friends. “Those drains looked like they might open,” she said a little more loudly. Star Stream broke off a stinging retort toward Royal Gift and faced Stormfeather. “What are you saying?” “I think the drains can open,” Stormfeather repeated. “That is how drains work,” Royal Gift added, raising an eyebrow and exchanging a look with Star. Stormfeather shook her head in annoyance. “I mean I think they’re supposed to be open,” she reiterated. She pointed toward the lower drain, trying to indicate that the water was drastically lower than it could have been. “What difference does it make?” Star asked. “We either go across, or we go back.” “I agree,” Royal Gift said. “There are other passages. We could try one of those.” Stormfeather flew across to the other side of the cavern, where the tunnel continued. She knew their logic made sense, but she couldn’t help but wonder how they could be so sure that those other passages didn’t have confusing obstacles in them as well? And alligators may not be the nicest animals, but that was no reason to let them starve. If she could open the upper drain, maybe there was a water source from the mountain above that would flow in, bringing fish and frogs along with it. Looking around from her new vantage point, she noticed a small lever hidden by a rock, which she couldn't have seen unless she'd landed on this side. As she eyeballed it, weighing the consequences, Star Stream called to her, "Come on, Stormfeather. Let's try another way." Hoping she wasn't making a deathly mistake, Stormfeather pulled the lever. An enormous grinding sound went through the cavern, followed by a crash and what sounded like rushing water. A heartbeat later, murky water poured through the drain in the ceiling and quickly filled the cavern below to the level of the lower drain. A number of soft clicks sounded, and a narrow stone bridge emerged from the cliff just below Royal Gift and Star Stream, extending all the way to the side where Stormfeather stood. After a few more moments, the flow of water slowed to a drip. "I guess we might as well keep going," Star said, stepping onto the bridge and leading Royal Gift across. "Nice job, Stormfeather." Stormfeather ducked her head in acknowledgement and once again led the way into the tunnel, lantern clutched in her mouth. Only a few pony-lengths in, they came across a narrow gap beneath what appeared to be a recently half-raised door in the wall. Stormfeather wondered if the lever had also opened this door. If she hadn't pulled it, they wouldn't have been able to go any further even if they had found a way to cross the cavern. But there was no way to know for sure that the lever had opened the door, so the three ponies squeezed under it and continued without a word. The tunnel branched off multiple times as they went, but Stormfeather led them more or less straight, marking the branches on her map as she went. While she prided herself a navigator aboveground, here her internal compass quickly became disoriented, and she wondered if her map would do any good at all if she didn’t spend her lifetime documenting every passage and trap. Just as she was thinking about traps, there was a mechanical click and squeal as something dropped from the ceiling, metal flashing in the lamplight. Stormfeather stumbled forward purely by her self-preservation reflex, then looked back to see that Royal Gift was struggling painfully, encased in what appeared to be giant steel jaws that had come down from the ceiling. Looking at the detail etched into the metal, they reminded her a bit of the quarry eels she had read live in the Ghastly Gorge not far from Ponyville. “Stormfeather?” Star Stream’s voice sounded from beyond Royal Gift, but it was muffled. “I’m okay,” Stormfeather called back. The jaws glowed purple as Star Stream’s magic took hold of it, but it didn’t budge. “Nothing,” Star Stream said, sounding frustrated. “How are you doing, Royal Gift?” The stallion’s strained panting answered that question as far as Stormfeather was concerned. “Get me out,” he growled through gritted teeth. Stormfeather drew the lantern along the walls and floor slowly, looking for a trigger. She didn’t find one, but what she saw instead chilled her to the bone: another undeployed set of jaws was tucked into the ceiling of the tunnel only a pony’s length from where she stood. The lantern-light didn’t illuminate further, but she wondered what the odds were that there was only one more to watch out for. “Did you find anything?” Star Stream called. “There’s another trap in the ceiling,” Stormfeather answered. “The same. Nothing else.” Star muttered something Stormfeather couldn’t hear. Then, “I guess nopony brought a crowbar?” “I have a toolbox in my saddlebag,” Royal Gift wheezed. The color was draining out of his face and he looked exhausted. “Maybe you can disassemble it?” The metal lit up purple again as Star Stream tried to use her magic to reach Royal Gift’s saddlebag, but the jaws gripped him so tightly she was unable to open it. As she waited, Stormfeather peered at the second set of jaws in the ceiling. If it hadn’t deployed yet, there must be another trigger separate from the first. Whatever that trigger was, it must be on this side. She approached it cautiously, careful not to get within snapping distance. But as she came near, she heard another click and leaned back just in time to avoid the jaws as they dropped. In her haste, she let go of the lantern, and the jaws crushed the glass, snuffing the candle and leaving the ponies in complete darkness. “What was that?” yelled Star Stream. “Stormfeather?” “I’m okay!” Stormfeather called back, breathless. “Royal Gift?” “What did you do that for?” the stallion shouted. “Isn’t this bad enough?” Stormfeather backed up a few steps, but she had no idea where she was between the two sets of jaws now. She flicked her tail and felt it hit something; with another couple steps, she thought she must be close to where Royal Gift was, and she halted. With him behind her and the other set of jaws somewhere in front of her, she didn’t fancy taking any experimental steps into the darkness. The faint purple glow of Star Stream’s horn-light gave her just enough to reposition herself on safe ground. “Look, I’m going back a little way,” the Unicorn said. “Maybe we missed something.” Her hoofprints—and her horn-light—receded, leaving Stormfeather standing stock-still in the dark, with nothing but Royal Gift’s labored breathing to tell her she wasn’t alone. She wondered briefly if she ought to say something reassuring to him, but she couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound ridiculous under the circumstances, so she remained silent. After a few quiet moments, to her surprise, another mechanical grind sounded and there was a frantic clatter of hooves as another pony—she could only suppose it was Royal Gift—backed hurriedly away from her in the direction Star Stream had gone. “Stormfeather,” he said. “Did you do something?” “No,” she answered, immediately noticing that his voice sounded clear. There was no way to tell in the darkness, of course, but it seemed there was nothing between them—so the jaws must have returned to the ceiling. Another mechanical sound on her other side gave the impression that the other set of jaws had done the same. The tunnel glowed purple again as Star Stream came back around the corner. “Nothing back—” she began, but then stopped when she saw Royal Gift standing free and unrestricted in the corridor. “What happened?” “It just let go,” Royal Gift said. “Well are you okay?” Star asked, looking him up and down. Royal Gift was still breathing hard, and Stormfeather guessed he’d suffered more injury than he was letting on. “I’ll live,” he said. Star Stream looked at the jaws tucked safely into the ceiling. “Don’t move, Stormfeather,” she said, approaching them. As she came near, the jaws dropped, catching thin air as she leaped out of the way. After a few moments of silence and stillness, they retracted again. “They must be motion activated,” Royal Gift observed. “Well, that’s just fabulous,” Star said sarcastically. “How are we supposed to get past them if they’re motion activated?” “Can you do a teleportation spell?” Royal Gift asked her wryly. “If I could, do you think I’d still be standing here talking to you?” Star shot back. Stormfeather turned away from her bickering friends and faced the second set of jaws. She must have activated the motion sensor when she walked past, but the jaws had missed her entirely and snatched up Royal Gift instead. Maybe they had some kind of delay caused by age. If Star Stream’s magic couldn’t hold them back, and they couldn’t get past when the jaws dropped, she could see no other option. Giving an anticipatory flick of her mane, Stormfeather charged forward. She had only one full stride before she was in striking range, and her acceleration was only enough to get her most of the way through. She had to dive to make it the last few inches, and the snapping jaws clipped one hoof as she pulled it through. She pulled herself up and kept running, galloping as far as the light allowed her. A glance around confirmed that she was beyond the danger of any jaw traps, and she limped to a halt, cradling her hoof as it began to throb painfully. As she got a grip on her pain, she realized she could hear her friends shouting after her. Stormfeather hauled herself to her feet and limped back down the corridor, eyes on the ceiling in case there were more traps. But it looked like there had been only the two sets of jaws, and when she finally stopped by the nearest one, Star Stream and Royal Gift were only a few pony-lengths from her. After a bit of silence, the jaw traps receded into the ceiling. “What in Celestia’s name do you think you’re doing?” accused Star. “You can’t just gallop off into the dark like that!” “If you’re quick enough, they can’t get you,” Stormfeather said. Her friends looked at each other. “You go first,” Star said. “I’ll hold the light here.” Royal Gift backed up a few steps, then took off at a gallop. But his injuries were clearly hurting him, because he wasn’t fast enough—the jaws clamped shut on him again, and he howled in pain until they opened up again. He staggered out of them, obviously in a world of hurt, but Stormfeather couldn’t see how badly he was injured. Without a moment of hesitation, he charged forward again, but it was clear he was not okay, because he didn’t make it past those jaws either. When he finally stumbled free, he was so unsteady on his hooves that Stormfeather leaped forward to help. He leaned heavily on her, and she guided him to a safe spot outside the jaws’ range. “Is he okay?” Star called, worry shaking her voice. Even with him lying against her, Stormfeather could see gashes all across Royal Gift’s back, and she had accumulated a good deal of his blood on her own coat. Her throat closed, but she managed to squeak back, “Hurry up!” Star Stream galloped towards them and only just managed to evade the first set of jaws. The second set clipped her hoof as she surged through, and she fell forward onto her knees. But she quickly picked herself up and hurried to check on Royal Gift. “Hold him steady,” she instructed. “I’ll bandage him up.” After plenty of TLC, a meal, and a good long rest, Royal Gift was looking better, and all three ponies felt more enthusiastic about continuing—mainly because they had no desire to turn back and face those jaws again. They pulled out another lantern so Star didn’t have to exhaust her magic and more cautiously continued on, this time with Royal Gift in front; the mares had tried to dissuade him, but he had insisted that Stormfeather should focus on drawing the map and that Star’s magic was their best backup in case something unexpected happened, so he ought to lead. When they set off, and Stormfeather and Star Stream noticed how slowly he set the pace, they realized he must be in more pain than he was letting on, so they shut up about it. The tunnel stretched on and on, and when there were branches going other directions, the mares followed Royal Gift’s lead without protest. Then the tunnel opened up into a large, empty dome-shaped cavern that stretched bigger than a buckball field. The ponies walked cautiously into it, relieved to be out of the claustrophobic tunnel. Royal Gift walked toward the center and set the lantern down as Stormfeather and Star Stream began exploring the area. It seemed odd that after all they’d experienced so far, this room would be empty. As she approached one wall, Stormfeather realized that the cavern wasn’t empty. Her eye was drawn to the effigy of a cobra carved into the stone, so subtle that she might not have noticed if its head didn’t protrude from the rock. While the body was camouflaged, the head was intricately etched and carved with great precision. As she went for a closer look, the serpent’s eyes began to glow blue. Stormfeather knew this couldn’t be good, but she was unable to look away from the mesmerizing light. When she came muzzle-to-fangs with the cobra, all of a sudden a cylinder of blue light surrounded her, blocking off her vision so she couldn’t see the other ponies. Turning, she saw the ghostly form of a horse—that’s the best she could describe it—the size of Princess Celestia but without the horn, colorless and transparent like a wisp of smoke. It stood motionless behind her, towering over her with its enormous wings spread wide. Stormfeather took a cautious step toward it. The horse took a step toward her. She spread her own wings, and the horse didn’t respond. She told herself it was impossible to tell where its void eyes were pointing, but she couldn’t break the feeling that it was staring at her. She did not like it. To avoid having to figure out what she was supposed to do next, Stormfeather launched herself into the air and pumped her wings with all her might, surging to the top of the cavern. When she got there, she glanced around to see that the horse was right beside her, hovering in the air and matching her flap for flap. Stormfeather turned and flew away, but it followed alongside her, and the next time she looked at it, she thought she caught a sparkle in the deep black of its eyes. Properly freaked out, Stormfeather dropped into a dive. The horse did the same, pulling up exactly as she did right before hitting the ground. She zoomed around the cavern, looping and weaving and doing whatever she could think of to shake it, but the horse seemed tied to her wingtip. Stormfeather turned sharply in her path and flew straight up, and was surprised to see that the horse was in front of her now, chest to chest with her—and that it had color now. Stormfeather pulled up and stared at it. It was still hazy, but it was silvery in color, with a long, breezy blue-and-black mane and white hooves. Exactly like her. Stormfeather flew in a slow circle around it, and it followed her. As they circled each other, Stormfeather gave the horse a good look. It was obvious: it was her, but big as a princess with the same flowy mane and tail, with wings big enough for Stormfeather to hide in. Awed, Stormfeather ducked under it, and it joined her in a helix dive. They broke apart when they neared the ground and soared back up in an arc, meeting together in the center. The more Stormfeather flew and it matched her movements, the more opaque the horse became. Finally, the horse seemed lifelike, and Stormfeather landed back on the ground where she’d started. The horse landed in front of her, its eyes clear and a light cerulean, just like her own. It bent a knee and bowed, and this time Stormfeather was the one to copy. When it stood again, the horse spread its wings and lifted its muzzle, and its eyes glowed with blue light. Stormfeather felt her body freeze, and she was lifted off the ground by an invisible force. She felt some sort of magic permeate her, and then she was set gently back on the ground and the horse, the barrier of light surrounding them, and the snake’s glowing eyes faded. Stormfeather blinked as her eyes readjusted to the cavern. There were two other domes of light, one green and one brown, but she couldn’t see through them. She walked toward the brown one, which was closest, and after a few steps realized that all her soreness and pain was gone. She looked over herself carefully and stretched her muscles. Nothing hurt, and there was no sign of the nicks and scratches she’d accumulated over the week. She felt better than she had in a long time. The green dome dropped suddenly and she saw Star Stream waver and fall to the ground. Stormfeather galloped to her side. The Unicorn’s white coat was stained with magic burns and blood, and her breathing was ragged. The brown dome faded and Royal Gift saw them. He galloped over, his bandages falling off him, clearly feeling good again. “What happened?” he asked, reaching into his saddlebag for a first-aid kit. “I don’t know,” Stormfeather said. She held Star Stream as Royal Gift doctored her wounds as best he could, and then they made the Unicorn comfortable as they set up camp. Star was in no shape to travel, so they didn’t plan to go anywhere soon. — It was impossible to tell time in the cavern, but it was many hours before Star felt strong enough to walk with Royal Gift’s help. Her saddlebags were evenly distributed to her friends, and Stormfeather led the way again with her map in her wings and the lantern in her mouth. They had no choice but to continue as long as they were able. While Star had been resting, Stormfeather and Royal Gift had exchanged stories of what had happened to them. It seemed they had seen similar things, except Royal Gift had tried talking to the horse instead. It hadn’t responded, and he had realized it was mirroring him only by accident because he had been focused on looking for a way out. When he saw it becoming opaque, he caught on more quickly, and then it didn’t take long before it looked exactly like him and he was fully healed and released. Star Stream didn’t say much, but Stormfeather got the impression that she had tried to use magic to affect the ghostly horse, and when it used magic back, she thought it was attacking her and began to fight back. She couldn’t explain what had happened to end the illusion, but she didn’t remember the horse becoming opaque or looking anything like her. All she remembered was that there was an explosion of magic and she lost consciousness. The tunnel sloped downward, and as they walked, Stormfeather was aware of the air growing steadily colder, emanating off the stone walls like an open-ended icebox. She was so intent on observing the walls, looking for any sign that this might be another trap, that she didn’t see the shield embedded in the ground until she tripped over it. When she looked back, Royal Gift was poking it with his hoof. He managed to unearth it enough to pull it entirely out of the ground. It was round and looked old, made from stone, with an engraving of what appeared to be a Changeling on the front. “Do you think it’s magic?” asked Star Stream. “It doesn’t seem like it,” Royal Gift answered. “Should we leave it?” “It might be useful.” Royal Gift hauled the heavy shield onto his back. Stormfeather thought the extra weight would probably only slow them down, but she didn’t speak up—if it wasn’t for that, she would have taken the shield too. The air continued to get colder as they walked on, until they decided to stop and bundle up in all the clothing they had brought. But it turned out not to be as helpful as they hoped, because the temperature only dropped more the further they walked, and walking was the only chance they had at maintaining warmth. It was a complete surprise when they turned the corner and saw a shivering heap of clothes and dark pink mane lying against the wall up ahead, breath fogging into the air, with only the dim light of a fading lantern illuminating the tunnel. “Hey!” It was Royal Gift who left Star Stream on her own and galloped past Stormfeather over to the pony. “Are you all right?” The pony looked up at him. She was a purple Earth Pony, dressed all in green clothes clearly not made for cold weather, and desperation glowed dully in her magenta eyes. When she saw Royal Gift, she backed away fearfully, looking him up and down. As Stormfeather and Star Stream came up, her eyes glanced over all of them. “Are you real?” she whispered. “Very real,” Royal Gift assured her, reaching out a hoof toward her. “I’m Royal Gift. This is Star Stream and Stormfeather.” She took it, and he helped her up. “Are you all right? What are you doing in here all alone?” The Earth Pony stood very unsteadily, shaking violently from the cold. “I’m Easy Peasy,” she said. “I came to find White Ring.” “Us too,” Royal Gift said. “We’ve come to find a cure for my father. What about you?” Easy Peasy hesitated, not meeting his eyes, then said, “Myself. My muscles are getting weaker, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m a dancer. If I can’t dance…” She trailed off, terror sparking in her eyes. Royal Gift nodded in understanding, and she went on. “I’ve been lost in this Maze for days,” she wailed. “I thought I’d never get out.” She certainly didn’t look to be in very good shape. She was shaking so hard it seemed she was struggling just to stay standing. “You should come with us,” Star Stream told her. “We might as well go together, since we’re heading in the same direction.” Easy Peasy looked relieved. “Thank you,” she whispered. Star Stream pulled off her warm hat and offered it to her, then picked up Easy Peasy’s few saddlebags. Royal Gift gave her a blanket to wrap around herself, and the purple pony started to look better. But when she started walking, it was clear she’d been idle for a long time; she looked stiff, and she wavered every few steps. Stormfeather led the way again, with Star Stream beside her to lean on if she needed help, while Royal Gift followed behind helping Easy Peasy. It felt like an eternity before Star Stream and Stormfeather noticed the jaws at the same time. They stopped. The steel jaws looked exactly the same as the ones they’d encountered before. Easy Peasy looked terrified. “I was here before,” she squeaked. “I didn’t know what to do, so I went back.” “Don’t worry,” Star Stream assured her. “We’ve seen these before. They’re motion-sensitive. All you have to do is run.” Easy Peasy didn’t look reassured. “I’ll go first so everypony can see,” Star Stream offered, igniting her horn-light. Nopony could tell how many sets of jaws there were from where they stood, so Star resolved to keep galloping until she felt safe. But she wasn’t recovered from the ordeal of her fight, and she tripped on her way through, falling hard on the ground on the other side. Her horn-light fizzled, but stayed on. “Are you okay, Star?” Royal Gift called. Star Stream lifted her head and looked around. “No more jaws,” she mumbled painfully. She stood unsteadily and backed away far enough to give the next pony room, then sat down hard. “Just one set.” “Go ahead, Stormfeather,” Royal Gift said. “I’ll help Easy Peasy.” Stormfeather set the lantern down and galloped forward. The jaws snapped shut, pinning her around her middle, and she yelped in pain. At first she strained against them, but then she remembered the only way to get out was to stop struggling until they receded. She stood still, hardly able to breathe as her ribs were constricted. Finally the jaws retracted and she hurried out of their way, dropping beside Star Stream. She left several of her feathers behind, drifting to the ground and stuck to the steel teeth. Royal Gift nudged Easy Peasy forward. “Just do your best,” he said. “Gallop as hard as you can.” Easy Peasy looked at him with absolute terror. “I can’t,” she whispered. “M-my muscles.” “You have to,” Royal Gift said. “You can do it.” Easy Peasy nodded, took a deep breath, and launched into an unsteady run. If she didn’t have her training as a dancer, it was unlikely she’d have made it through, but she managed to somersault through with surprising grace, skidding to a halt unhurt on the other side. Royal Gift was not so lucky. Carrying the lantern, he couldn’t see his hooves, and he was crushed in the jaws’ grip. After a few moments of stillness, they receded and he walked out, fortunately not looking too badly injured. “Is everypony okay?” he wheezed. Star Stream’s horn glowed purple as she touched it to her hooves. The light wrapped around her, and when it faded she looked considerably stronger. Easy Peasy took out some sort of pill and popped it into her mouth, then sighed with relief. All the ponies nodded. They all felt better after the adrenaline and the running, but the Maze was still bitterly cold as they walked on, and despite their layers, each pony shivered tremendously—none of them had anticipated the southerly Appaloosan Mountains to be as cold as the Frozen North, and they hadn’t packed winter gear. Even beneath her mass of feathers, Stormfeather could hardly feel her wing-tips. They turned the next corner and the tunnel opened up into another enormous cavern, stretching further than the lantern-light allowed them to see and feeling eerily hollow. “What now?” muttered Star Stream as they stepped up to the edge of a glassy surface on the ground. It was a thick layer of ice, which covered, as far as they could tell, a large lake, frozen solid enough to walk on. They spread out and walked along the edge, but didn’t get far before it met the walls of the cavern. Scouting from the air, Stormfeather could find no other way around. It was Royal Gift who took the first step onto the surface, with Easy Peasy just behind him. Star Stream watched them go out several yards before she began to follow, and Stormfeather flew overhead, her wings aching from the cold, but not wanting to put any extra pressure on the ice in case it wasn’t as thick as it appeared. It was also Royal Gift who first saw the dark shapes in the water. He stopped over one of them, and the ponies gathered around, peering down at the blurry shadow beneath the ice. It was clearly some kind of animal, but not one any of them had seen before. “Let’s keep going,” Royal Gift said after a few moments. He sounded very uncertain and, for the first time, rattled. But it seemed he had resigned himself to the fact that there was no turning back. They continued, but at a slower, almost tiptoeing pace, glancing around at the ice as they went. Stormfeather hovered overhead with the lantern to light the way, hanging from her hoof so she could keep an eye out. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and at the same moment Royal Gift cried out a warning; the ponies on the ice clumped together as the ice cracked and a serpent-like creature slithered out of a hole onto the lake. Looking at it now, it appeared to be some kind of cockatrice, with a long snake-ish tail and the features of a black-and-white bird with flippers made for swimming. At first, Stormfeather wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it looked, but she didn’t like the way it was eyeing her friends. The cockatrice stepped toward the ponies, head low and flippers wide. “Don’t look it in the eye,” Royal Gift warned. Stormfeather flew down and landed as non-threateningly as possible beside her friends. She didn’t know much about cockatrices, but she knew caution when she saw it. Setting down the lantern beside Star Stream, she reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a pouch of the last of her oats. Avoiding eye contact, she stepped a pace forward and emptied the oats onto the ice, then backed away, gesturing for her friends to do the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cockatrice approach the oats and give it a few experimental pecks. Stormfeather held her breath; did this kind of water-dwelling cockatrice even eat oats? The cockatrice didn’t seem terribly interested in the oats as a food source, but when it looked up again, its body was relaxed and it sat down on the ice, curling its tail around itself as a barrier between it and the frozen ground. It blinked at them for a moment, then slithered back into the water, returning a moment later with a small insignia clutched in its beak. It laid the insignia beside the pile of oats, then went back down the hole and disappeared. The ponies gave an audible sigh of relief, and Stormfeather went to pick up the insignia. It was metal, with the image of a white ring. She turned it over to the others to look at, her stomach clenching with anticipation. Did this mean they were close? By her reckoning, the lake was about a mile across, but they had no more scares by shadows in the water. When they reached the other side and continued on through the adjoining tunnel, Stormfeather wondered if it was her imagination, or if the air was getting warmer. It was getting warmer. Stormfeather followed the warmest air whenever the passage forked, until all the ponies had stopped shivering. Then they reached another cavern where the air seemed to stop entirely, not warm, not cold. A circle of standing stones was aligned neatly in the center. Eyes open for traps but seeing nothing suspicious—nothing perceptible at all really—the ponies entered and walked into the middle of the circle. The air crackled and the hazy projection of a pony—a pure white Unicorn with a flowing mane—appeared below an arch. An image lit up on the flat surface of a short stool of a stone next to the arch—an image of a white ring, exactly matching the insignia the cockatrice had given them. With no hesitation, Royal Gift snatched the insignia from Stormfeather and placed it on top of the image. The projection of the Unicorn solidified, and swayed for a moment. The Unicorn shook her head and then blinked at them through yellow eyes. “Greetings,” she said with a dip of her head. “I am White Ring. Congratulations on finding your way through my Maze.” The ponies gaped at her in shock. They had thought they might find some scrolls or parchments, not the fabled healer herself! Then Royal Gift stepped forward and said, “Hello. I’m Royal Gift. I’ve come to get help for my father. He has canters. Can you come?” White Ring looked him up and down, clearly analyzing him. “I cannot leave this arch,” she said. “I am able to survive this way only if I stand within it.” “Please,” Royal Gift said, sounding desperate. “There is no cure for canters. I don’t know how long he has left.” White Ring turned away from him and looked at Easy Peasy. “And you, little one?” she asked gently. The purple pony peeked shyly out from behind Royal Gift. “M-muscular dystrophy,” she stammered. “That is easily done.” White Ring’s horn glowed and her magic swirled around Easy Peasy. The Earth Pony gasped, then relaxed into it. When it faded, she looked strong and her eyes shone with joy. “Thank you!” she cried, trotting around them all and spinning in a few choreographed dance moves. “I haven’t felt so good in moons!” White Ring ducked her head. Then she faced Star Stream. “You?” Star Stream looked at Stormfeather in confusion. “We’re here for him,” she said, indicating Royal Gift. “We’re his friends.” White Ring measured her words carefully, then nodded. “Very well.” She looked at Royal Gift again. “I cannot come with you, but I can give your friend a spell that will help.” Royal Gift looked hopefully at Star Stream. Star nodded and stepped forward. “Of course,” she said. “Come here.” White Ring beckoned her forward. When she was close enough, she touched her horn to Star’s and both ponies closed their eyes. Star gasped and stiffened as White Ring’s magic coursed through her, and when it was finished, she shook her head dizzily. “You have shown courage and dedication in coming so far through so many dangers,” White Ring said. “My knowledge is not free for all, but my help is. You have suffered much; I will heal your wounds and send you home.” Stormfeather was about to wonder how, but before she had the chance, columns of blinding white light crashed down on each pony. She screwed her eyes shut against the light, and when she opened them again, it took a moment to focus. She found herself on the floor of her own living room, back in Ponyville, and there was not a scratch on her and none of her muscles ached. She was home.

"I'm glad we're doing this," Star Stream said. "To make up for last week."  "You didn't enjoy the storm?" asked Royal Gift playfully.  "Not when I'm camping in it," Star retorted.  Given the storm that had interrupted their plans to camp in Everfree Forest the week before, the ponies had decided to organize a hike into the nearby mountains to make up for the trip gone awry. Stormfeather had been asked to go along as a replacement for Whistling Wind, who was still laid up with an injured hoof since Star Stream’s sleepover. Stormfeather had been surprised when she was invited, and she still felt like she was intruding, but the other ponies continued to be friendly and welcoming towards her. Although since they hadn't yet asked her many questions about herself, she knew the possibility was high that she would have to answer a few on the hike. With that in mind, she trailed along at the back of the pack, hoping to prepare herself as well as observe her new companions a bit more.  Star Stream, she already knew, was competitive and dauntless, and she and Royal Gift seemed to be constantly interacting in a dynamic that somehow managed to be both playful and testy. If she hadn't spent a night at her house, Stormfeather wouldn't have known Star Stream had a soft side, but the Unicorn's staunch strength hid a deep kindness and caring for others. Royal Gift seemed to purposefully antagonize Star, but at the same time there was something almost gentle about him. This was the first time Stormfeather had spent much time with the dark brown stallion, but already she could sense an energy about him, and a calm confidence that put her at ease. He hadn't really spoken to her, but she found him trustworthy. Maybe it was because of how he'd taken control during the storm and guided them all to shelter, but she thought she'd be willing to follow him anywhere.  Broken Arrow was the strangest of all. Stormfeather knew almost nothing about him, but she could sense more about him than any of the other ponies she'd met. He seemed to want to be everywhere, part of everything, but he also seemed withdrawn and unwilling to connect, although Stormfeather couldn't explain why she got that impression. Right now he was up front, but he seemed unable to decide whether he wanted to explore ahead or stay close to the other ponies. For some reason, he seemed deeply familiar to her.  As she was observing her companions, Stormfeather was brought back to the present by Broken Arrow calling over his shoulder from where he hovered up ahead. "Hey, there's a wagon up ahead!"  Stormfeather caught up with the others and they joined him, moving together down the path toward a small, brightly colored wagon pulled by an equally small pony. The pony turned as they approached and Royal Gift called out a greeting. He was a pony, but a species which Stormfeather had not seen before. He had a short, curved horn and a limp, dull mane that hung nearly to his knees, with a tail to match.  Royal Gift took the initiative in introducing everypony, and then asked, "Where are you headed?"  "Ponyville, for the moment," replied the pony, "but only for a short stop. I'm an entertainer doing a circuit of Equestria. This is my first time here."  "In Ponyville, or Equestria?" asked Star Stream.  "Both," the pony said. "Where are you from?" Royal Gift inquired.  "The Fields of Forever," answered the pony. "It's on the other side of Ponyland." "I've never heard of those places," Star said as Royal Gift shook his head agreeably. Stormfeather placidly followed suit. She wondered if this conversation would eventually lead to swapping species—or names.  "It sounds a bit familiar," said Broken Arrow. "Ponyland is beyond what you would know as the Griffish Isles. The Fields of Forever—my home—is even further." The pony looked skeptically at them all. "I guess you've never seen an Abada before, have you?"  Royal Gift and Star Stream began trying to convince him that they had, quickly adding that they simply hadn't known the species, while Arrow said laughingly, "I know an Abada." Stormfeather stayed quiet, feeling completely in the dark about what was happening, and hoping her silence thus far would render her lack of culture invisible.  "How's the trail up ahead?" Royal Gift asked at last, changing the topic as smoothly as he could.  "Pretty good. No obstacles the way I came," reported the Abada. "Well, you're not far from Ponyville," Royal Gift told him. "Just keep following the road. You'll be there within a candlemark."  "Good luck with your show," added Star Stream.  "Enjoy your trip," the Abada responded as he pulled his wagon past them. As they parted ways, Stormfeather made a mental note to look up the Fields of Forever and Ponyland when she returned home. True to the Abada’s word, the ponies didn’t run into anything else along the trail until they reached a flat open spot on the mountainside. There, they stopped and looked out over the expanse of Equestria lying before them. “I can see my house from here,” Broken Arrow joked. Stormfeather settled herself on a boulder, trying to act like her muscles weren’t aching. Star Stream and Royal Gift looked tired as well, and it was a while before any of the three of them stood up to enjoy the view. Broken Arrow didn’t seem wearied at all as far as Stormfeather could tell. “We should keep going,” he urged them. “I bet we could make it to the top in a couple of hours.” “Are you joking?” groaned Star Stream. “We never said we were going to the top,” Royal Gift said. “We only said we were going to camp in the mountains.” “But the view will be way better from up there,” Arrow said. “I bet we could see Canterlot Castle.” “That’s easy for you to say,” Star retorted. “You can fly. My hooves are aching.” “Come on,” Arrow urged. “It’s just a little further. Don’t you want to say you made it to the peak?” “We’re not here to prove anything,” Royal Gift reminded him. “It’s just a camping trip.” “Stay here if you want to,” Arrow said, standing and shaking out his wings. “I’ll go up by myself.” “We shouldn’t split up,” Star said. “It’s dangerous.” Stormfeather knew Star was right. She also knew that she didn’t want to take another hoof step. She had come on this trip to get to know these ponies, not because she was interested in mountain climbing. She wasn’t even sure she was enjoying the experience. “Then I’ll go with him,” Royal Gift offered, standing slowly. Stormfeather could see the stiffness in his legs and got to her own hooves. “No, I will,” she said before she realized what she was doing. “I can fly.” “Nopony should go!” Star said, her voice rising. “It’s a stupid thing to do!” “It’s just a little way, and if we fly, it’ll be even faster,” Arrow shot back. “It’s dangerous for all of us the more we split up,” Royal Gift added. “Then let’s all go,” Arrow said, as if he’d won. “You’re crazy if you think I’m taking another step.” Star sat back and crossed her forehooves stubbornly. “Stop!” cried Stormfeather. “We will fly, and be back in an hour or two. You two set up camp.” “It’s a bad idea,” Star told her. “You shouldn’t go.” She looked at Stormfeather, but if she was trying to communicate something silently, the Pegasus couldn’t read it. “Fine.” Broken Arrow unfurled his wings. “But you’re missing out.” Stormfeather took flight after him. Her wings felt heavy, but she was grateful to fly instead of walk. A strong gust of wind gave her a boost, and she soared alongside the brown stallion. He stayed quiet as they flew, and seemed to be keeping a slight distance between them. Was he uncomfortable flying beside her because of her large wings? Maybe he just didn’t like her very much. Or maybe he was as uncomfortable as she was. She had no idea why he’d pushed so hard to go further, and she didn’t feel comfortable asking him. But a deep unsettling feeling told her that this was a very bad idea. The wind got stronger and stronger the higher they flew. Peering down, Stormfeather could just make out what looked like a statue carved into the rocky mountainside. She glanced at Broken Arrow, who didn’t look like he wanted to talk, and decided instead to drop down toward it to get a better look. When he noticed her descent, Arrow followed. Blinking the wind-chill tears from her eyes, Stormfeather could make out the carving of an Earth Pony with a hoof raised toward the trail. It was difficult to tell whether the hoof was in a halting or a pointing position, but Stormfeather didn’t feel very good about either option. “What’s that for?” Arrow asked. He was the closest he’d flown to Stormfeather so far. She shrugged. “A message?” she suggested. “Hmm,” he answered, and flew on. Stormfeather stayed close, feeling more uneasy by the moment. Ponies didn’t just carve ominous statues into mountainsides for a good time, and the air was getting colder and colder as they approached the peak. The ground below was covered in frost and ice, not yet melted by spring’s warmth. Stormfeather’s feathers felt frozen by the time they finally touched down on the peak. The wind was blowing so hard that it was hard to stay upright, in flight or on hoof. Stormfeather could scarcely see anything through the layer of gray clouds shrouding the peak, and she kept her gaze carefully fixed on Broken Arrow’s red tail. She wasn’t about to lose him on this mountain. She may not have wanted to come in the first place, but she was determined they would both make it back. It was impossible to talk over the wind. Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary to, because they both spotted the lights at the same time. The Pegasi watched, dumbstruck, as the lights steadily got bigger. Then, before they could fully register what was happening, a metal lantern-looking object with a blue flame flew at them—Stormfeather would have said it charged, if she believed it was sentient. She wanted to dodge, but her muscles, stiff now with both exhaustion and cold, refused to respond. Arrow launched a kick at it with one hoof, catching it directly in its center. The odd lantern was knocked back a few paces and landed in the snow. Unfortunately, more were swarming forward. Stormfeather turned toward the three on her side and spread her wings wide, then charged forward. She smacked one with a wing, body-slammed the next, and narrowly missed the third. She stomped on the one under her hooves, then flinched as metal scraped against her flank. “Stormfeather! Fly!” neighed Broken Arrow. Looking up, she saw that he was already aboveground, hovering overhead, fighting to stay stable in the screaming wind. The lanterns clustered around her, and she felt her shoulder burn as one of them struck her. Stormfeather thrust out her wings and spun in place, hoping to knock them all down, or at least far enough away to give her time for the downstroke that would send her into the sky. She only felt herself strike a couple of them, but her movement—and the rushing wind—gave her what she needed to launch herself upward. Arrow dove down at the others, pushing them away from her and giving her an extra wingstroke to get away. He circled back upward to join her, and they hovered several lengths off the ground, hoping the lanterns couldn’t fly. “What in Equestria are those?” shouted Arrow. Stormfeather didn’t answer because she had no answer. The lanterns were made of metal, that much was clear, but the rest was a mystery to her. All she knew was what she could see: a metal frame with a blue flame lingering inside the glass compartment at the center. They were clearly animated by magic, though it was impossible in the fog to see whether there was a puppeteer nearby, or if they were permanently living constructs. If there was a sorcerer pulling the strings, it was likely that flying would not be an effective method of escape. Beside her, Arrow faltered as the wind changed, his smaller wings struggling to keep him aloft. “Let’s go,” Stormfeather yelled to him, not sure whether he could hear, and began to crest the mountain, hoping the peak would shelter them from some of the wind assaulting them from all sides. Arrow followed, but at a much slower pace, flapping furiously just to stay upright. Stormfeather glanced frequently over her shoulder to make sure he was still managing, but she had no idea what she would do if he lost control. The pattern of the wind was much different than it had been when she’d flown in the storm the week before, bashing and rebounding off the mountain and funneling at her like a chute. But for the most part, the wind caught and cushioned against her, gathering beneath her wings and sifting through her feathers. It was bitterly cold, but at the same time, somewhat refreshing—and the freezing air quickly soothed the burn on her shoulder. The wind gradually decreased as they descended, and finally Stormfeather landed on the trail just below the Earth Pony statue. Broken Arrow landed beside her, shaking violently. “Are you okay?” Stormfeather asked. “I think so,” he answered, wincing as he flexed his wings. Stormfeather could see the frost layering them; glancing to her side, she could see the same on her own wings, but her denser feathers had insulated her from the effects of the cold. “Did you get hurt?” Arrow asked through chattering teeth. “My shoulder and flank,” she answered, and examined each carefully. Her shoulder was numb, the frost covering the burn having stopped it from spreading very effectively. Her flank had bled, but the cold also seemed to have staunched it. They were both lucky to have gotten away with such little injury. “What happened?” Arrow said again, still shivering. “What were those things?” Stormfeather shook her head. “I don’t know.” She made another mental note. This camping trip was going to send her home with a mountain of research to do, if nothing else. “Let’s go back to camp.” He nodded and followed shakily as she lifted into flight again. She could see that it was an effort to keep his stiffening wings flapping, but she also knew that the exercise would warm them up much faster than walking. The sooner he defrosted, the more control he would regain—and the quicker they could both get to camp and turn in for the night. After the exhausting climb and the battle, all Stormfeather wanted was to curl up in her sleeping bag and sleep. By the time they reached camp, Arrow was flying normally, though considerably slower than when they’d left. Stormfeather could see that he was as tired as she was now, though somehow she knew that most of his exhaustion wasn’t physical. He’d been the one to insist on going to the peak when everypony else had disagreed, and it had put them in serious danger that he’d had no idea how to fight. Stormfeather could almost read his thoughts: If he hadn’t been so desperate to push himself, this wouldn’t have happened. What if everypony was still upset with him? Surely they had good reason to be? Suddenly feeling a rush of empathy, Stormfeather touched him lightly on the shoulder with her wing-tip as they landed, wanting him to know that she didn’t blame him for what happened. He glanced at her, but she didn’t see any recognition of what she was trying to communicate. He probably assumed it had been a mistake, a mild glitch of exhausted wings. He went to greet Royal Gift and Star Stream, and left Stormfeather with a drooping heart.

The sun was just drying the dew from the grass when Stormfeather stepped out of her cottage, empty saddlebags in tow. The storm that had enveloped Everfree Forest two nights before and which had introduced her to her first Ponyvillians had come near enough to the town to have brought down some branches and debris around her cottage. She gazed around the clearing. This was the first time she had a chance to get a good look at her new home; she and the other ponies had stayed at the Castle of the Two Sisters for quite a while when they'd awoken the morning after the storm (which was yesterday), and then she had walked back to town with them to learn the route in case she ever decided to walk rather than fly–and she was still self-conscious about showing other ponies her larger-than-average wings, even though she had flown in front of them during the storm. She hadn't got back to her cottage until late yesterday evening, when the sun had already begun setting. The clearing was small, and contained only five cottages including her own. Hers was the only one this side of the path, with the Clock Tower a little way down on the same side. The other four cottages were in a line slightly separated in pairs, with Stormfeather's cottage approximately equidistant between them. She assumed they were occupied, but she had no way of knowing for sure. Certainly nopony was stirring at the moment, if anyone was there at all. Feeling safe she was out of prying eyesight, Stormfeather unfurled her wings and took off. She wanted to follow the path into town, but flying was still faster than walking, so she flew just off the ground so she could land quickly if anypony was coming along the trail. But the forest path was deserted, and she glided lazily past first a distinctive but homey cottage, then a small cattle barn, the inhabitants of which must still be asleep inside. Then she landed and began to walk as the forest thinned, finally opening up to reveal Ponyville. Town Hall was the first building she could see, just on the other side of the river. She wasn't certain where the marketplace was, but she took her best guess based on what she'd seen during her brief flyover the day she'd arrived. Fortunately she didn't have to walk far before she heard somepony call her name. Stormfeather turned to see Star Stream trotting after, and waited for the white Unicorn to catch up. "How are you?" Star Stream asked once she was within speaking distance. "Fine," said Stormfeather. "I'm looking for the marketplace." "Come with me, then," Star Stream said. "I'm going there too." Stormfeather was happy to let her lead, and fell in beside her as Star Stream went on, "How's your house?" "It should be suitable," Stormfeather answered. "I should come and visit sometime," Star Stream suggested, but before Stormfeather could reply she continued, "not tonight, though. I'm glad I ran into you. Whistling Wind and I are having a sleepover at my house tonight. Want to come? It's okay if you want to settle in first. I know it's short notice." Stormfeather was genuinely surprised. She'd only just met Star Stream and Whistling Wind a couple days ago, and now she was being invited to a slumber party? She wondered if this quick progression was normal for Ponyville ponies. The idea of engaging in a real social event (she didn't count running for their lives from a freak Everfree lightning storm) with near perfect strangers made her uncomfortable, but she did want to make friends here, and Star Stream and Whistling Wind seemed nice enough. She wondered, though, if she would find anything in common with them once they started getting to know each other. "Okay," she said. "Great!" Star Stream said, and she sounded sincere. "You can help me pick out food then. I don't know what you like." Her comment sounded like an inquiry, so Stormfeather said, "Um…apples?" Star Stream laughed. "All right then. Apples first. Then I'll give you directions to my house." — When Stormfeather arrived at Star Stream’s house early that evening, it was hard to tell whether Whistling Wind had already arrived; she didn't expect two ponies would make enough noise to be noticeable, and the house was quiet as far as she could tell. But since she was early, she assumed Whistling Wind wasn't there yet—which had been her hope. Star Stream seemed like a very friendly pony, and Stormfeather had enjoyed going to the market with her, but the thought of going up to the house and knocking on the door unattended made her shiver. What if she disturbed Star Stream because she had arrived early? What if she'd misheard the directions and this wasn't the Unicorn's house after all? No, it was a far better option to wait until she saw Whistling Wind coming, and then pretend she'd arrived at the same time. Then they could approach the house and go in together. Then Whistling Wind and Star Stream could share the expected greetings, and Stormfeather could just tag along. This having been decided, Stormfeather glanced around to make sure nopony was watching, and flew up and perched on the roof of a nearby house. She had seen other Pegasi on the roofs earlier, so she guessed Ponyville residents didn't mind them coming and going. Besides, she had every intention of leaving it as she found it. For the moment, she would pretend to be merely watching the sunset. It was some time before Whistling Wind finally came into view. Stormfeather dropped down off the roof so it would look like she was just rounding the corner on her own journey. She put herself in clear view of Whistling Wind and walked slowly, giving the Earth pony every chance to see her. Finally she did. "Hello," Whistling Wind called out. "Are you going to Star Stream’s party too?" Relieved to fall into step beside her, Stormfeather answered, "Yes. We met in the market this morning and she invited me." "Good," Whistling Wind said. "How have you been?" "Fine," said Stormfeather. She hoped this awkwardness would fade once they got inside. As she'd hoped, Whistling Wind went right up to the door and knocked. Star Stream opened it, greeted them, ushered them inside, and after sharing a few pleasantries that Stormfeather didn't find at all pleasant, said without preamble, "So the plan for tonight has changed slightly." Dread threatened to seep into Stormfeather's shoulders, but Whistling Wind leaned forward in anticipation and asked, "Oh? How so?" "I ran into Gift and Arrow on my way back from the market, and they asked what all the food was for." Stormfeather could now see that Star Stream’s eyes were glowing, and relaxed slightly. "So I told them, and they have challenged us to a scavenger hunt." "What kind of scavenger hunt?" "We came up with a list of things to mark off." Star Stream pulled out a piece of paper and placed it before them. "First ones finished and back here win! We start promptly at sundown." Stormfeather was about to ask what kind of night life Ponyville had, but before she could Whistling Wind said, "What do we win?" "Hopefully a little respect!" Star Stream waved a hoof dramatically. "So are you in?" Stormfeather felt awkward again. Not knowing the town, she felt there was little she could contribute to the game. But Whistling Wind was already enthusiastically agreeing, so she nodded. "All right. Sundown isn't far off, so we'd better make a plan." Star Stream and Whistling Wind leaned close together over the list. Swallowing uncomfortably, Stormfeather looked over their shoulders. She loved scavenger hunts. She just wished she'd had more time to learn about the town before she'd been roped into one. — The mares set out promptly at sundown, not intending for the stallions to get so much as a step ahead of them. Star Stream was in the lead with Whistling Wind half a step behind, and Stormfeather trailing along after them, feeling more and more like a meddlesome parasite one can't exactly get rid of, but does one's best to ignore. She didn't even know what most of the items on the list were, let alone where to find them. It seemed Ponyville had a rich and interesting history as well as residency, something Stormfeather certainly hadn't anticipated when she took the job from the Equestria Historical Society and moved here. Oh, she knew about some things, like the fact that Princess Twilight Sparkle had lived here and the adventures she'd undertaken with her motley group of friends, but never did Stormfeather imagine she might find herself on similar misadventures. Not that she considered a nighttime slumber party scavenger hunt anywhere near the scale of taming the unruly Spirit of Disharmony, fighting bugbears and Ursa Minors, becoming an Alicorn, or redefining friendship for creatures across and beyond Equestria. Frankly, Stormfeather had hoped to meet just one pony with which to occasionally share tea or a good book. Though she wouldn't say she considered them friends yet, now she had four potential future companions. As she followed along, it seemed that Star Stream and Whistling Wind didn't particularly need her, for which she was glad. They traveled at a brisk pace up and down streets until Stormfeather was beginning to doubt her navigational skills, but then finally broke out into a fairly large square, and Stormfeather realized they'd made it to the Town Hall by some backwater means. "'Leave your hoof prints at Town Hall,'" Whistling Wind said, reading out the item from the list. "Come on, Stormfeather. It only counts if all of us do it." Stormfeather followed as they tramped through a bit of mud below the deck, then hopped up to leave the residue on the wood. Other partially-dried prints were already there. "They're ahead of us already!" observed Star Stream. "We'll have to shuffle our hooves to catch up," Whistling Wind said. "If we split up, I can get the bucket of water from the river and meet you in the Grassy Pentagon for five dandelions." "Great! Come on, Stormfeather. Follow me!" Without waiting for her consent, Star Stream leaped off the deck and took off at a gallop. Stormfeather scrambled after her, stumbling from the mud caked unevenly to her hooves. Fortunately the white Unicorn was easy to follow in the dark. Putting on a burst of speed, she managed to catch up with her… only to realize that Star Stream was slowing down as they approached a row of houses. The Unicorn gave Stormfeather a gesture to stay quiet, and Stormfeather nodded in understanding. They continued as quietly as hoofsteps would allow, but Stormfeather knew they were lucky the ground was still springtime damp. Star Stream slipped behind the houses, and Stormfeather followed, only hoping that if she was caught, she wouldn’t be caught alone. The area behind the houses opened up into a grassy square; Stormfeather could feel the richness of the soil as soon as her hooves sank into the lush greenery. “Five dandelions,” Star Stream whispered. She’d lit a tiny ball of purple light at the tip of her horn, and was poking through the grass with her muzzle to the ground like a dog tracking a scent. Stormfeather began looking around, though without a light of her own, she had a harder time of it, essentially stuck to the patches of light cast by the windows of the nearby houses. She was just leaning out of the darkness toward a dandelion when the sound of an opening door halted her in her tracks. Hardly daring to breathe, and moving at a pace a snail would consider casual, she turned her head just enough to see. A Zebra emerged from a nearby house, a leafy potted plant on his back. He set the plant down, then peered around the Grassy Pentagon. Out of the corner of her eye, Stormfeather could see that Star Stream had extinguished her horn-light, but her white coat was still practically glowing. The Zebra stood there for a moment, as if wondering if he ought to say something, but if he had seen them, he didn’t seem too bothered. Then the sound of laughter peeled out of the open doorway, and the Zebra turned and went back inside. As the door closed, Stormfeather let out a heave of breath, snatched up the dandelion, and joined Star Stream. Now that she had almost been found out, her belly was clenched with the desire to get out of there as quickly as possible. “One more,” Star Stream whispered, her voice muffled by the dandelions in her mouth. “There!” she pointed with her hoof, and Stormfeather swiftly plucked the flower she had indicated. Then Star Stream jerked her head, and the two mares tiptoed out of the Pentagon as silently as they could. “That was close!” Star Stream said as soon as they were clear and trotting briskly toward their next location. “Isn’t this fun!” Stormfeather didn’t respond, her teeth clenched on her two dandelions and her skin shivering. She didn’t like the way her feathers trembled. Maybe the thrill of it was getting to her, and she was only feeling the anticipation of the competition. Maybe the cool spring air had chilled her more than she’d realized. But she couldn’t help suspecting that the source of her quivering was the deep gut feeling that she was doing something wrong. Whistling Wind galloped up to them, her hooves clattering on the street. A bucket was clutched in her teeth, sloshing water all over her chest as she ran. She slowed as she joined them. "Great, Whistles!" Star Stream said, and levitated the five daisies and two apples—Where did those come from? Stormfeather wondered—into the half-empty bucket. "The fountain is the only thing left, and then all we have to do is beat the stallions back to your house," Whistling Wind narrated. "They probably still have a lead on us," Star Stream said, breaking into a gallop, "so let's shift our tails!" They ran until they broke out into a large courtyard ringed with what appeared to be shops, with an outdoor stage at one end. In the middle was a large fountain lit by starlight, merrily spurting water into the night. If they weren't in such a hurry, Stormfeather would have enjoyed the serenity of it. "We've beat them!" Star Stream crowed triumphantly. "Let's win this!" The three mares gathered around the fountain. "All we have to do is hang the bucket up there," said Whistling Wind, setting down the bucket next to Star Stream. "Use your magic, Star." "Hold on. There's no sign of the colts yet," Star Stream said. "This isn't just a sleepover; it's Stormfeather's Welcome to Ponyville party." She levitated the bucket over to Stormfeather. "You should do the honors." Stormfeather still didn't feel entirely comfortable with what they were doing, but she was touched by Star Stream's gesture, so she took the bucket in her teeth. She hesitated, reminded herself that her companions had already seen her large wings and didn't seem to mind, and then hesitated again. If she hung the bucket on the fountain, it would be left there until morning. It wasn't permanent or necessarily destructive, but could it be considered vandalism? What if they got in trouble? Star Stream and Whistling Wind were looking at her expectantly, and she could see the competition glowing in their eyes. They wanted to win, but they'd also chosen to include her. All in all, she had enjoyed the hunt, and having ponies to hang out with. Besides, they wouldn't vandalize anything for a silly game, would they? Surely hanging a bucket on a fountain was no more a crime than leaving muddy hoof prints at Town Hall? Stormfeather flew up toward one of the fountain's spindly "arms," bucket in tow. She was just about to hang it when a shout caught her by surprise. As she turned, the shadowy shape of a Pegasus loomed up in front of her, and she nearly dropped the bucket. Then she recognized Broken Arrow. The clattering of hooves told her that Royal Gift was also approaching the fountain. He must have been the one who shouted, because Broken Arrow held a bucket in his mouth as well. "The bucket!" shrieked Star Stream as Whistling Wind went to block Royal Gift. "The bucket, Stormfeather!" Broken Arrow took advantage of Stormfeather's distraction and lunged in an effort to reach the fountain first. Quick as lightning, Stormfeather swung in front of him, taking up a defensive position with her wings spread wide. She clutched the bucket in her teeth. She knew she had little hope of landing her bucket first, but maybe she could prevent him from hanging his. Broken Arrow tried feinting to the side, but Stormfeather stuck with him, matching every dodge and lunge, the two of them engaging in a dance of offense and defense. He was quick, but her large wings formed a barrier he couldn't evade. Stormfeather faintly heard Star Stream and Whistling Wind shouting at her to just hang her own bucket, and since she was closer, Stormfeather could understand their logic. But they weren't Pegasi. What did they know about flight acrobatics? She tuned them out and focused on the bucket in Broken Arrow's mouth. If she could make him drop it, he'd have to retrieve it, and she would have enough time to hang her bucket and get a head start back to Star Stream’s house. She dipped and kicked with a forehoof, trying to hit his bucket from the side. She nicked it but he held on, and lashed out with his own counterattack. Now they were exchanging strikes as well as blocking and dodging. Stormfeather felt herself quickly losing control of the situation, and started to panic. It was only a matter of time before he got the better of her, and she will have let her new friends down. Just how seriously were they taking this scavenger hunt? Would she be able to regain their respect if they lost because of her? She did not want that to happen. "Arrow!" shouted Royal Gift, and suddenly a bolt of purple shot toward them, narrowly avoiding hitting Broken Arrow. As he dodged to the side, the magic shot hit the pinnacle of the fountain, which popped off to reveal a white orb. As the ponies watched, the orb glowed swiftly brighter until it was a blinding white. Then it radiated light outward. Stormfeather threw her hooves over her eyes, screwing them shut. She assumed the others were doing the same. Suddenly she felt the bucket being pulled from her mouth. She let go, and a moment later the impression of the blinding light stopped pressing against her eyelids. Tentatively she opened her eyes a slit. The darkness had returned, but it took a moment before her eyes readjusted. Then she saw her bucket overturned over the orb, blocking it from view. No light seemed to be coming from it anymore. Stormfeather flew down and landed beside the other ponies. Broken Arrow hung his bucket and joined them. Royal Gift and Whistling Wind put their hooves down, having covered their eyes the same way Stormfeather had. "What happened?" Whistling Wind asked. "I don't know," said Royal Gift. "Star Stream?" Star Stream hadn't moved since the light. She stood motionless at the edge of the fountain, seemingly staring at the bucket capping the top. She didn't seem to have heard. Royal Gift approached her, reaching out a hoof toward her. "Star, are you okay?" Star Stream jolted as if his touch was electric, then turned to face them. "What?" She looked confused for a moment, then leaped past them in a dead gallop. "Let's go, girls, we can still win this! Last one to my house is a rotten apple!" The ponies looked at each other, confused, then took off after her. At first they weren't trying very hard to catch her, still more concerned about her wellbeing than the competition, but as they ran the thrill of the race started to get to each of them. Before long, it was a race. When they got to Star Stream’s house, it was Royal Gift who was in front. He had overtaken Star Stream to win comfortably. Stormfeather had managed to keep pace, but hadn't managed to draw even with Star Stream. And somewhere along the way, Whistling Wind had tripped and hurt her hoof, so she limped in a few moments later. Broken Arrow was with her, but it was unclear what had hindered him. "We win!" Royal Gift was announcing as they all gathered by the door. "You cut me off," Star Stream accused him. "I would have won easily if you hadn't jumped in front of me." "I didn't cut you off!" Royal Gift argued. "Royal made it to the house first, so we win," Broken Arrow said. "We agreed." "We agreed that the first team to reach the house wins," Star Stream argued. "The last of both of our teams got here at the same time, so it's a tie." "That was never the rule," Broken Arrow protested, but Royal Gift just shook his head, already giving up on the argument. "Well, whoever won, Whistling Wind's hoof needs to be seen to," Star Stream finally declared, moving over to Whistling Wind's side to help her into the house. "What about you? Are you okay?" Royal Gift asked her. "Of course," Star Stream answered, not looking at him. She seemed to be making a point of cold-shouldering the stallions as she assisted Whistling Wind. "Why wouldn't I be?" "What happened at the fountain," said Royal Gift. "Stormfeather clearly hung our bucket first, and with style. You can't argue about that," Star Stream said, shooting him a silencing look. "We definitely won that task." As she tended to Whistling Wind, the other ponies exchanged glances. But then Royal Gift and Broken Arrow shrugged. They didn't seem to think whatever had happened to Star Stream was that serious. Stormfeather relaxed, trusting that they knew the Unicorn better than she did, and if they weren't concerned, she wouldn't be either. Maybe Star had a habit of forgetting things. Maybe she'd been so focused on the competition that she'd jumbled or missed some details. Stormfeather took her friends' lead and shrugged it off. This was her first sleepover in Ponyville, and it wasn't over yet.

The sun was not far from setting as the last train of the day lumbered into Ponyville Station. Only a few ponies filtered out when the doors open; the last train is rarely the most popular, and is typically only taken by those who missed their intended earlier ride. One of the last among them was a silver mare, stiff from her journey. She stopped for a moment to consult the Ponyville map. The Equestria Historical Society had lined up accommodation for her outside of town, near a Clock Tower. Fortunately Ponyville was a small town, so it didn’t take long for Stormfeather to find the landmark on the map. Unfortunately, the Clock Tower was all the way on the other side of town. Stormfeather sighed, then spread her wings and launched into the air, somewhat shakily due to her loaded saddlebags. She rose into the twilight sky as the first stars begin to show. She always preferred to fly when she got to a new place; it helped her establish a mental map, and it was far easier to navigate when she could see from above. Besides, she had too much to do to risk running into anypony tonight. She hoped the Historical Society’s accommodation wasn’t too hard to find. By the map, it appeared to be surrounded by only a few cottages, but she would hate to have to knock on somepony’s door to ask for directions, especially this time of night. Ponyville had a reputation of being a friendly place—it housed the castle of the Princess of Friendship herself, along with her school—and Stormfeather was simply too eager to get on with her appointed business to deal with well-intentioned ponies. Ponyville was serenely still as Stormfeather glided overhead. She saw one or two ponies below, heading back to their homes after some evening outing, but they did not notice her, as her form failed to cast a shadow as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. She was glad she wasn’t living in this part of town—it was too congested for her taste. She flew past Town Hall on her way out of Ponyville. According to the map, all she had to do from here was find a small lake and follow one of its adjacent streams toward the Clock Tower. She was glad it was a clear night; if it wasn’t for the reflection of the stars on the surface of the lake, she may have flown right over it. Stormfeather dipped down until she could feel the night-cold rising off the lake, and headed for an opening in the trees along the shoreline. She was right: A stream flowed between them, which she followed for a few wingbeats before rising up to fly just above the canopy of the forest—though she could tell by the trees that it wasn’t a forest at all, but an orchard of some kind. Before long she spotted the bell tower glowing in the moonlight, and she headed towards it. As expected, there were only a few cottages dotted around its base. She descended and landed as quietly as she could along the path between them. It was hard to see the numbers in the dark, but she managed to find the correct one—the only one on its side of the path—and inserted the key she had been given. The cottage was a small one, but more than sufficient for Stormfeather living on her own. Since she only had what she was carrying in her saddlebags, it only took a few moments for her to unpack—and then repack, for she had no intention of turning in for the night after having spent so much time sitting on the train. It was time to stretch her wings. Stormfeather trotted out of her new house and took to the sky, much more spryly than before given her lighter saddlebags. She relished the feeling of the wind tingling through her feathers as she angled south, toward the Everfree Forest. Perhaps it wouldn’t be advisable for a pony to go into the strangest sector of Equestria alone, but this was why she had come to Ponyville in the first place. The Equestria Historical Society had sent her to observe and document the books and scrolls in the library of the Castle of the Two Sisters, and do what she could to preserve them. As she started over the canopy, she began to wonder if she had made the wrong decision. It was impossible to see the ground through the thickness of the trees, even if she wanted to. She had assumed she would be able to see at least the towers of the partially-ruined castle, but in the dark it was hard to tell what might be a tower and what was merely a tall tree. What’s more, the sky was darkening fast as clouds began to gather. It looked like a storm was brewing—which meant it would be very dangerous for Stormfeather to stay in the sky much longer. Uncontrolled weather patterns. So it was true. The canopy was thick, but she managed to find a slight opening and angled for it. It was so narrow that she had to tuck her wings in order to fit through it; given the darkness and the unusual size of her wings, this didn't go quite as she envisioned, and she lost a few feathers on the way down. To soften her landing, she quickly flared out her wings again as soon as she was past the canopy, and found herself plunging into a thick patch of undergrowth. The spread of her wings caused full impact, and she landed with a heavy and apt oof. It was at this moment that she discovered the rumors of the thickness of Everfree Forest were absolutely true. With a short struggle and some awkward flapping, Stormfeather managed to disentangle herself from the foliage and found a slightly less overgrown area in which to pluck the stray twigs and fronds from her feathers. It wasn't until she had finished that she realized she had done this entirely by feel; the jungle was far too dark to make out anything. She groped in her saddlebag and pulled out a lantern, which she lit and held aloft in her mouth. A shiver ran down her spine. Somehow the shadows cast by the lantern made the forest seem even more eerie than it had in pitch darkness, and rain had begun to fall. There aren't many jungles in Equestria, and Stormfeather quickly realized that her moderate forest navigation skills were useless in a place where the sun never reached the ground. There was no sign of a trail, and it was impossible to listen for running water over the sound of the rising storm. She would have to pick a direction and hope for the best. It felt like ages of aimless wandering before Stormfeather heard rustling in the undergrowth. She put her lantern down and backed swiftly a few paces away, hoping that keeping the light between her and whatever-it-was would at least put them on even ground. She shook the water out of her wings and took up a defensive stance, knowing that there wasn't enough room to take flight to flee. If something came for her, she was earthbound, and she would have to think quickly. To her surprise, it wasn't a massive beast that pushed its way out of the undergrowth, or one of Everfree's infamous timberwolves—it was an Earth pony, pale orange and muddy, with her lavender mane sopping wet, and a large backpack lashed up with gear. "Hello!" the mare called over the downpour. "We saw your light. Are you camping near here?" Stormfeather blinked and allowed herself to relax, but she was so surprised that it took a moment before her brain registered that she was supposed to respond. She shook her head and went to stand over her lantern, where the pony could hear her better. "I'm looking for the Castle of the Two Sisters," she yelled. "At night?" A second mare, a Unicorn, probably white under the smudges of the jungle storm, came out of the undergrowth behind the Earth pony, using her magic to clear her path. "I thought I might see it," Stormfeather explained, lifting a wing slightly to indicate she'd been scanning from the air. "That explains why you're here. No flying in this weather," the Earth pony said. "You're just a little ways from the trail." "You'd better come with us," the Unicorn added. "We were camping with our friends when the storm hit. Safety in numbers!" She led the way back through the undergrowth, barring the foliage with her magic. The Earth pony followed close behind, and Stormfeather picked up her lantern and hurried to catch up. She certainly hadn't planned to meet anypony tonight, but she had to admit the Unicorn was right, and besides, maybe they could point her toward the castle. When they broke out of the undergrowth, they came upon a pair of brown stallions shivering on the trail. "What did you find?" called one as soon as he saw them. "No campfire. Just a lantern," the Unicorn replied, and revealed Stormfeather. Seeing all the heavy backpacks these ponies were wearing, Stormfeather suddenly felt very exposed and unprepared. "What are you doing out here?" asked a stallion, whom Stormfeather realized was a Pegasus. He was clinging his wings so closely to his body that she almost didn't see them. "She's looking for the Castle," the Unicorn told him. "Right now?!" The Pegasus looked at her in disbelief. "Maybe we ought to go there," suggested the other stallion, an Earth pony. "It could give us shelter from this storm." "Good idea," said the Earth mare, and the other two nodded. "Come with us," the Earth stallion said to Stormfeather, picking up a lantern and taking the lead. "The castle's got to be around here somewhere." As the others fell in behind him, the Earth mare extended a hoof in greeting to Stormfeather. "I'm Whistling Wind," she said, her voice barely audible over the canopy crashing overhead. Stormfeather clopped her hoof against Whistling Wind's. "Stormfeather." "Nice to meet you." Whistling Wind led the way after the other three ponies and indicated them from front to back. "That's Royal Gift, Star Stream, and Broken Arrow. What a night for a camping trip, eh?" Stormfeather nodded, but didn't feel particularly moved to reply. She was soaked through and cold, and she didn't have much cover from just her saddlebags. She looked at Broken Arrow with his wings slicked against his sides, and for once she was grateful that hers were larger than normal. Wet as they were, at least she had an abundance of feathers to help insulate her. Besides, if they were folded, nopony would notice they were the wrong size. Whistling Wind looked as if she was going to say something else, but before she could the sky flashed again. It was barely visible to the ponies under the dense canopy, but the sound of it nearly tossed them forward. They paused and turned their gaze upward, and dread rose in each of their hearts as smoke began to roll from the branches above them. "Go!" neighed Royal Gift, and bolted into a gallop. The others sprinted after him. Hoping beyond hope that he knew where he was going, Stormfeather followed. Her gratefulness for her amply feathered wings dissipated as they became soaked through and heavy. She fixed her concentration on keeping sight of Whistling Wind's purple tail, slicked dark and waterlogged, but with the flashing lightning and dense undergrowth, a few times she thought the other ponies had left her behind. Still she refused to look back, trying to ignore the crackling of flames and sucking of air behind her. She had no idea how long they had been running before Royal Gift stumbled to a stop. The others gathered as closely around him as possible, though the undergrowth was unforgiving and it was nearly impossible to hear one another above the storm as it was. "I lost the path," Royal Gift said as soon as he had enough breath to shout. "I don't know where we are." "I'll fly up and look around," offered Broken Arrow, spreading his soggy wings. "Don't be stupid," Star Stream snapped. "You'll be fried." Broken Arrow looked sheepish and Whistling Wind piped up, "We shouldn't keep moving without knowing where we're going. It's too dangerous." "There's nowhere around here to wait for the storm to pass," Royal Gift pointed out, "unless you don't mind pulling thorns out of your mane." Thunder boomed again and the ponies started. Looking around at their terrified faces, Stormfeather knew she had to make a decision. She was a decent navigator, and even in the storm, she had experience with camping that they could use. If she only knew which way the castle or Ponyville was, she was certain her sense of direction would lead her true. But in such a thick jungle, it would be very difficult–or impossible–to figure out which way was north. Maybe it was a good thing her wings were so large after all. In one swift movement, she reached over and tossed her saddlebags to the ground. "No time to argue," she said, unfurling her wings, and with a powerful downstroke she launched herself into the air. She thought she heard one of the ponies call after her, but the voice was drowned out by the storm. Probably for the best. Beneath the protection of the canopy, flying was easy. Getting through and beyond it, however, was another story. It would have been hard enough to fight through the thick branches on a calm day; during a storm, it was like flying through a tornado of razor-sharp leaves and pointy sticks. By the time she finally broke out, she was scraped, bleeding, and barely knew which way was up. What's more, she couldn't risk hovering too high above the trees with the lightning flashing. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. Within heartbeats of her escaping the canopy, the blackness was shattered by a streak of lightning so nearby Stormfeather felt it singe her wing feathers. The resulting static nearly sent her into a tailspin, but her broad wings held her steady and she caught a fleeting glimpse of a tower. The castle! Stormfeather kicked up her tail, pinned her wings, and dropped into a dive. Getting down through the canopy was much easier going up, and she shot down like a missile, nearly bowling over Broken Arrow, who had apparently begun to fly after her but hadn't made it all the way through. She just managed to slow her descent enough to avoid breaking a leg upon landing, but she still stumbled. Star Stream reached out to steady her, but Stormfeather didn't want to risk losing her mental map of the tower, which was quickly fading. She shrugged the Unicorn off. "This way," she gasped, grabbing her saddlebag and slinging it onto her back. She took off at a dead gallop, not waiting to see if the others were following. She'd caught only the barest glimpse of the tower and the surrounding terrain, and she knew the navigational instinct to follow would remain only for so long. She ignored the booming of thunder and the cracking of what she daren't imagine was fire, and busted through the thick undergrowth. All that mattered at the moment was reaching shelter–it just so happened that it was also her intended destination. She was running so fast and was so focused that she didn't notice when the ground suddenly vanished beneath her. She found herself falling; she heard one of the other ponies cry out, and felt an invisible grasp snag her tail. Broken Arrow flew up beneath her and steadied her until she realized she needed to flap her wings to stay aloft. "Thanks," she gasped to him, and nodded back to Star Stream, who had grabbed Stormfeather's tail with her magic. Beneath her, a river roared, black and angry in the storm. If the ponies hadn't caught her, she would have been swept downstream, with no hope of breaking free. "I know where we are now," Royal Gift called, and took the lead again. Stormfeather was relieved to fall in behind him; her recall was fading fast, and her legs were aching. She could tell by their weary gaits that the other ponies were quickly tiring too–at least Star Stream and the Pegasi were. Earth ponies were known for their endurance, and both Royal Gift and Whistling Wind seemed strong. With Royal Gift leading, it wasn't long before they found themselves galloping across a tedious bridge overlooking what appeared in the dark to be an abyss. Stormfeather could only guess what lay at the bottom. The ponies rushed into the castle as lightning split the sky once more, and fell relieved onto the stone floor. It was a few moments before Stormfeather caught her breath enough to look around. It was very dark, but she could tell by the feel of the air against her ears that they were in a large room, probably a great hall, by what she knew of castles. Star Stream lit her horn so somepony could find a torch, and Stormfeather's instinct was confirmed. From a logical standpoint, she could only imagine the creatures that might make their homes here; while not what she would call welcoming, the castle was shelter. "That was crazy, flying into the storm like that," Whistling Wind said to Stormfeather as Royal Gift lit a torch. "You could have been killed." "Is that why you're called Stormfeather?" joked Broken Arrow, wringing out his wings. "We needed direction," Stormfeather said, shrugging. If she'd been on her own, she probably would have stayed in one place and waited until the storm let up, but she didn't mention that to anypony. "That was good flying," Royal Gift said. "Definitely better than Arrow could do," Star Stream added, and the ponies laughed at Broken Arrow's protest. "That's not fair. Her wings are bigger than mine!" Stormfeather clutched her wings to her side, embarrassed, but Star Stream said, "It's a good thing they are. We wouldn't have made it here." "Why were you looking for the castle?" asked Whistling Wind. "I came for the library," Stormfeather explained. "Do you happen to know where it is?" This time it was Star Stream who answered. "Toward the back. It ought to be warmer in there." She stood, and the ponies all hefted their bags again to follow. They headed down a corridor without a word. Now that the sounds of the storm were muffled by the stone walls, Stormfeather felt a bit awkward and wondered if she should say something. Their hoofsteps sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. Whistling Wind seemed as uncomfortable with the silence as she was. "It's been a long time before anypony came to Ponyville for the Castle of the Two Sisters," she commented. "What are you looking for?" "Stories," said Stormfeather. "I don't know how much use you'll find here," said Star Stream. "The library's probably full of old archives and outdated magic scrolls." "The best stories are those we have lived ourselves," Stormfeather answered. The other ponies fell silent again. Finally they passed through a doorway and it opened up into a large room full of shelves overflowing with books. Stormfeather stops in her tracks and gazes around in wonder. There was far more here than she had expected, and she knew in an instant her journey here was not in vain. Royal Gift began to say something about setting up camp and spreading their things out to dry, but Stormfeather didn't hear him. She walked up to the nearest bookshelf and unstrapped her saddlebags, sighing in relief as the sodden bags dropped to the floor. Almost immediately she sneezed, sending a tiny cloud of dust up off the nearby books. She walked down the row, her excitement and anticipation building as she read the titles. Oh yes, she thought. I could spend a very, very long time here. Before she could get too engrossed in the books, however, Royal Gift called out, "Come dry off." She returned to the others to find that they had started a small fire. Stormfeather felt uncomfortable having an open flame close to the invaluable treasure trove of information, but she didn't say anything. She was dying to spread her wings to dry, like Broken Arrow was doing, but despite Star Stream's kind words, she still felt self-conscious. The others were tossing their manes and laying out their camping gear around the fire, trying to get everything close enough to dry off. Stormfeather went to retrieve her saddlebags from where she'd dropped them by the other shelf. Back at the fire, she opened them up, and sighed as she lifted out a couple of dripping notebooks. She was glad they were unused ones, so she hadn't lost any valuable notes, but she hated to admit they were probably beyond saving. Her quills and ink had fared better, and fortunately her written permit from the Equestria Historical Society was laminated, so it had survived the storm unscathed. Her sketchbook was a bit water damaged on the edges, but the hard cover seemed to have taken the brunt of it. Surprisingly, her pencils were the most damaged, the graphite practically dripping off them and the wood heavy with water. But, after a thorough drying, they ought to be salvageable. When she tuned back in to the conversation, Whistling Wind was saying, "It's a good thing Ponyville has its own weather. A storm like this would wipe out my crops, even this early in summer." Noticing she was now paying attention, Star Stream asked Stormfeather, "How long are you in Ponyville?" "Indefinitely," Stormfeather replied. "I'm doing archives for the Equestria Historical Society." "So that's why you wanted the castle library," said Broken Arrow. "Stormfeather–I thought your name was familiar," mused Royal Gift. "I work in Ponyville real estate. I set up your house for you. Did you see it yet?" "Yes, it should do nicely," said Stormfeather. "Where is it?" asked Broken Arrow. "Out by the Clock Tower," Royal Gift told him. "That's pretty far out," Broken Arrow commented. "It's a good location if you're going to be here a lot," Whistling Wind said to Stormfeather. "You're lucky you can fly here instead of walking through the forest." "As long as it isn't stormy!" Broken Arrow said, and they all laughed. Stormfeather looked at the ponies around her and wondered if she'd found friends so quickly after arriving in her new home. They seemed friendly enough, and there was no denying the rough evening had bonded them somewhat, but she couldn't say yet whether she considered them friends. One thing was certain, though: she sure was glad she knew somepony.