Stormfeather and the Maze

"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.