Lyra yawned, trying to blink the tiredness out of her eyes as the train jerked to a halt at the Council Hall station. Today had not started well.

She had just settled into bed after another all-nighter at the library when her personal console had started to chime, alerting her to a new message. Despite her valiant attempts to ignore it, repeat chimes eventually forced her out of bed and to the machine. Based on the dozen or so messages received, Councilor Shimmer apparently needed to see her at the Council Hall as soon as possible, which, in Shimmer’s special language, meant drop absolutely everything you were doing and get there right now.

Ignoring the request and going back to bed had crossed her mind at the time, but pointlessly antagonizing Shimmer struck her as stupid. Not only would she continue the deluge of messages until she got a response, but Lyra also doubted Shimmer would reach out to her unless it was really important. The last time they’d spoken had been after Shimmer had voted to give Lyra’s council seat to Sombra.

So here she was, half-awake and with a stomach intent on punishing her for a dinner-slash-breakfast that consisted of nothing more than a stale doughnut and several cups of coffee, wondering what Shimmer could possibly want with her.

"Madam Heartstrings?" a guard at the base of the stairs asked, saluting smartly as his silver armor shone almost as brightly as the palatial council building.

Lyra cringed as an image of pegasi soldiers clad in gold guarding an alicorn princess flashed briefly through her mind. Hopefully whatever Shimmer wanted wouldn’t eat too much of her time. The sooner she could sleep and get back to work, the better.

"Madam Heartstrings?" the guard repeated, concern overtaking stoic professionalism, “Are you okay?”

"Sorry," she mumbled, shaking her head, "My breakfast isn’t sitting well with me. Is Shimmer ready to see me?"

He hesitated. "Councilor Shimmer is... well, technically she’s waiting for you. She just has a little bit of business she’s finishing first. If you’ll follow me? We should head up to her office."

Lyra put on a happy face. "Of course."

Business, based on what little she could make out from the hallway, consisted of berating and browbeating some poor, unlucky pony.

"I see Shimmer hasn't changed much," Lyra said, trying to drown out the muffled shouts with small talk.

"Well, you know, things are very difficult in Manehattan right now," the guard mumbled.

"They always were. It does sound like her temper has improved a little, at least. I don't think I've heard anything being thrown yet." She was sure that she saw the slightest brightening of the guard's expression. "Any chance you know what she wants with me? Her message wasn’t exactly informative."

"Sorry, but I’d rather not say," he grunted, gesturing at the door with his wing.

"Fair enough. I can’t say I blame you. Now does not seem like the right time to get on her bad side."

The office door finally opened, dispensing a rather gloomy looking pegasus. She certainly looked like a pony harangued by Shimmer: her eyes were downcast – rather, one of them was – and her wings hung limply at her side.

She offered Lyra a faint smile. “Don’t worry. Her voice was starting to give out near the end there, so you shouldn’t have to worry about too much yelling.”

Lyra returned the smile. “Thanks for wearing her out for me.”

“No problem.” The smile became just a little more earnest before she walked away.

The guard recaptured her attention with a polite cough. "Councilor Shimmer will probably want to see you now, Miss Heartstrings."

“Wish me luck?”

The guard offered no immediate response, but Lyra thought she heard him mumble “Good luck,” under his breath as he shut the door behind her.

Despite her exhaustion, Councilor Fancy Pants sitting behind the desk beside Shimmer did not escape Lyra’s notice. Today delivered bigger and bigger surprises. Shimmer contacting her out of the blue was one thing, but finding Shimmer and Fancy Pants in the same room and not at each other’s throats? Lyra dreaded to think what the rest of the day might hold.

“Good afternoon, Miss Heartstrings,” Fancy Pants said, inclining his head in greeting. “You are looking well! Life outside these hallowed halls seems to have agreed quite nicely with you.”

"Lyra," Shimmer grunted.

"Councilors," Lyra said, bowing. Definitely too much strange happenstance all at once. She doubted all of it could be coincidence. "What can I help you with?"

“One moment,” Shimmer grunted, her horn glowing softly.

Lyra barely managed to stop herself from jumping as the door behind her locked, the heavy bolts sliding into place with loud snaps, followed quickly by every surface of the room beginning to emanate a faint teal. She recognized it as a soundproofing spell. “A lot of eavesdroppers hang around your office these days, Shimmer?”

"We apologize for this,” Fancy Pants volunteered while Shimmer completed her spell, “But the matter we wish to discuss with you is a delicate one. We would not want anypony to... accidentally overhear us. We are simply taking some preventative measures to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I see,” Lyra managed, wishing that she’d slept. She was out of practice with political intrigue, and trying to handle it while half-asleep did not appeal to her. “And what exactly is this matter and, more importantly, what does it have to do with me?”

Fancy Pants looked to Shimmer. “Shall I?”

"No. I think we can cut straight to the heart of the matter instead of wasting time listening to you talk around it," Shimmer said, her horn returning to normal. "Sombra is making a bid for power. A big one. He wants the council completely under his control."

"I seem to recall somepony telling you that Sombra was going to be trouble when he joined as a representative for the Crystal Empire," Lyra said, unable to fully restrain her sarcasm.

"Yes Lyra, you’re practically a master of divination.”

“Sunset,” Fancy Pants chided, “Mind your manners.”

Shimmer rolled her eyes. “Look. This isn't like the petty politics that got you thrown off the council. This is serious. Sombra is pushing for the council to take direct control of every station in the Empire. No more station governments, no more stations laws, no more station trade, no more independent stations. You get it? The council would command everything, and Sombra plans on being the pony calling all the shots."

"That… that’s ridiculous!” Lyra protested. “Even if he wanted to do something like that, even if he controlled every single member of the council, he couldn’t. Not even Cloudsdale would tolerate that! It’d be civil war!”

Fancy Pants cleared his throat. "Unless he had the tools to make sure such efforts were futile. A legendary magic relic, for example."

Silence filled the room as Lyra stared at the two of them, letting the implications of that statement sink in. They couldn’t be serious, but neither pony would dare joke about something like this. The thought of that vile unicorn having even more power sent chills down her spine. “Is that why you called me in?”

Fancy Pants held up a hoof. "Before we go any further, I think you should understand the severity of the situation we are—"

"Please don’t patronize me, Fancy Pants. I was on the council. I understand exactly what is at stake. Anything we do at this point is going to be, at best, just shy of treason. If any of this goes wrong or gets out, serious trouble will not even begin to approach an accurate description for what we will be in."

"That's... accurate, yes," Fancy Pants said, taken aback.

Shimmer tapped her hooves impatiently on her desk. “Is everypony on the same page? Great. Now, tell me Lyra: what do you know about the Elements of Harmony?"

"A little bit." Lyra couldn’t tell if she kept the surprise off her face. She hoped she did. Trying to explain the fact that, yes, she’d just started reading about them and it had triggered repeated hallucinations would probably be difficult.

"Well, I need to know absolutely everything you know about them. Right now. Then I need you to go scour every book and every terminal and every bit on the network for more information on them."

“You really think he’s trying to find the Elements of Harmony?”

“We’re sure,” Fancy Pants said.

Shifting from hoof to hoof, Lyra considered her options. This didn’t seem like the right time to tell Shimmer that she had already already been looking into the Elements, or that she had started hallucinating right then. “All right. I’ll need some time to put what I have together, though.”

“Fine,” Shimmer snapped. “Just do it quickly and send it to me. Oh, and one more thing before you go.”

“Yes?”

"Are you still friends with that idiot DJ-what’shername?"

Fancy Pants cleared his throat. "Pon-3. Her actual name is Vinyl Scratch, I believe."

Shimmer waved a hoof dismissively. "Yes. Her."

"Vinyl? No, not really. We haven’t talked in forever. Why?"

Sunset tapped a hoof on her desk, studying Lyra closely. She finally said, "We think she might be with somepony who has one of the Elements."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “You actually think somepony has one of the Elements right now?”

"They have something that might be one of the Elements. Some magical object or another was discovered while they were remodeling the Wonderbolts Academy. It matched what few descriptions of the Elements we had, so I called in pretty much every favor I could to get the thing delivered to me before Sombra could touch it.” The rapping of her hoof on her desk intensified. “Unfortunately, the courier I hired to deliver it lost the damn thing in the city. Did you see the news this morning?”

“All I’ve done this morning is eat breakfast and rush on over here,” Lyra grunted.

“Long story short: We think some groundling ended up with the Element, Sombra sent the Council Guard to deal with it, they made a mess of that DJ’s club, and both her and the groundling who might have had the stone disappeared. Unfortunately for us, when it comes to a citywide hunt, Sombra’s going to have an easier time than us.”

Lyra sighed. Some things never changed: Vinyl never knew when to keep her snout out of other ponies’ business. "I'll be sure to let you know if I hear anything from her.”

“Good. How soon can you give the two of us a briefing on the Elements?”

Lyra stifled a yawn. “Is tomorrow morning okay?”

Shimmer prepared to object, but Fancy Pants spoke up first, “That will be fine, Miss Heartstrings. We both appreciate your willingness to assist in delicate matters like this.”

“I’m sure you do.”

~~~~~

Octavia had not expected the doctor to have much to offer for breakfast, but the ancient box of Full of Oats oatmeal came as an unwelcome surprise. The dust covering the box did not worry her, as she knew from experience that they remained perfectly edible – quite possibly literally – forever. Unfortunately, she suspected that their amazing shelf life came from the fact that they consisted entirely of synthesized starches and cardboard.

The thought of eating junk like that again disgusted her, but she knew it would at least fill her grumbling stomach. Besides, she could see the Doctor’s bowl held barely half as much as theirs. Complaining would be unfathomably rude.

“I’ve gotta say, Doc: this stuff is awful,” Vinyl said after a few bites. “Quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Vinyl!” Octavia snapped. She lowered her voice and added, “He is giving us food he probably can’t afford to spare! Appreciate it!”

“I do appreciate it. It still tastes like soggy paper.” She pushed the half-full bowl towards Octavia. “Want the rest? I’m not really hungry, and this stuff ain’t helping.”

Octavia glanced questioningly at Hooves.

“A loss of appetite for a few days wouldn’t be that unusual,” Hooves said. As if anticipating Octavia’s next question, he added, “And don’t worry too much about me. I ate while I was out.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, taking the bowl from Vinyl and finishing it in sullen silence. Even if it tasted awful, wasting food deserved to be a crime.

“Do you mind if I ask you both whether you know what you are planning to do next?” Hooves asked.

Vinyl shrugged. “Not really. I kinda figured we’d just chill here until my head stopped hurting and Trixie got bored of whatever little errand she’s on. If you didn’t mind, of course, doc.”

“There is no way we could do that,” Octavia said, frowning.

“Why not? I mean, I’m still a patient, he’s still a doctor, and you’re still… something funny and flirty.”

“Vinyl!” Octavia snapped again, the carpet absorbing the impact of her hoof on the ground. “This is not a joke! We are in serious trouble and we should not be bringing it down on innocent ponies! If Commander Lulamoon found him housing us—”

“Chill, Octavia,” Vinyl said, cringing as she flattened her ears, “Or at least yell more quietly. Damn, now my head really hurts.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, softening her voice. “I just… I am just trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do now.”

The unicorn shrugged. “Just gotta lay low for a bit, Octavia. This sort of thing always blows over if you give it enough time. Then you just put in a few words with the right ponies, spend a few bits, show ‘em a good time, and everything is cool again.”

“Yes, and I am sure that works fantastically for a unicorn. I highly doubt they’ll be so happy to let an earth pony off that easy, especially when she kicked Commander Lulamoon across your club’s floor!”

“You what?” Vinyl burst out laughing as she continued, “And you’ve been calling me an idiot! What in Tartarus would convince you to do that?”

“Because it was the only thing I could think of to save your stupid flank!” Octavia snarled.

Vinyl’s laughter stopped abruptly. “What?”

“I didn’t know what Trixie was going to do to you and I couldn’t just let her hurt you after how bloody nice you’d been to me! But no, of course, I forgot for a moment that you’re some stupid, rich unicorn who can just do whatever she wants without any repercussions! I am incredibly happy I wasted whatever slim chance I had of getting out of this helping you! But I do suppose it is not a total loss! At least you find the fact that I’m going to be spending the rest of my life working in the asteroid colonies hilarious!” Her chest heaved as the words spilled out of her, and it took a moment for her to realize that she had advanced on the abashed Vinyl until they were muzzle-to-muzzle.

Hooves cleared his throat politely.

Octavia sat back down, her cheeks burning as she turned away from Vinyl.

“I… sorry. I didn’t know. I just—”

“Forget it, Vinyl.” Taking a deep breath, Octavia tried to calm herself down. Yelling at the unicorn – in front of a pony who was graciously sheltering them, no less! – would not help anything.

“I really didn’t—”

“I said forget it. I need to worry about my problems right now, okay?”

“Could I interrupt for a moment? I might have an idea.” Hooves asked.

Octavia nodded. “I would certainly appreciate the advice of almost anypony at this point,” she said, looking askance at Vinyl.

“Miss Scratch, you went to the Celestial School for Gifted Unicorns, correct?”

The unicorn stopped staring sullenly at Octavia and glanced up. “Huh?”

“I assume you went to the Celestial School?” Hooves asked again, though Octavia got the impression he just wanted to confirm something he already knew.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, my parents made sure I got in. I didn’t do very well or anything though, so don’t expect any magical miracles from me or anything.”

“But that does mean you know some important ponies, right? Ponies who might be able to, say, take the stone from Miss Melody and smooth the whole issue with Commander Lulamoon over? Or at least run interference until she can take an extended vacation outside of Manehattan?”

“Well, I mean, I know a lot of ponies but… I don’t think many of them could or would do me any big favors right now,” she mumbled. “Lyra maybe? She might still talk to me, and she has a lot of friends in the government.”

“Lyra? As in the former Councilor Lyra Heartstrings?” Octavia asked, hope swelling in her chest. If anypony could help her, it would be a pony with connections to the council.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up..” She must have caught the dangerous look Octavia shot her, as she quickly added, “I mean I’m totally happy to talk to her or anypony else I know to try and help you out, Octavia. I just…” She offered a limp grin and continued, “Nevermind. The doc here is right. I’m sure if I harass enough ponies, somepony’ll help just to shut me up.”

“I appreciate it,” Octavia mumbled.

“I believe it might be better if I were the one to approach your contacts, Miss Scratch. Setting aside the fact that you should spend today resting, my understanding is that you might also be in a little bit of trouble?”

Vinyl hesitated before answering, “Well… sorta, yeah, I guess.”

“Then you should probably keep your head down as well. I imagine it would be quite difficult to help Miss Melody while trying to talk your own way out of custody.”

“Yes,” Octavia answered, enunciating carefully in the hopes that Vinyl would understand. “It would be very difficult.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s no way that—”

“No, Vinyl. I will tell you right now that if you get yourself imprisoned or do something similarly stupid trying to help me, I will quite seriously never forgive you. We should just do what Hooves suggests.”

The unicorn sighed and then cringed, before laying down. “Ugh. I think all the yelling did a number on my head. It’s really starting to hurt again.”

“Then I think it’s time you got back into bed, Miss Scratch,” Hooves said. “I’ll mix another draught to dull the pain and help you sleep, then see if I can get a hold of Miss Heartstrings.” He stood up and stretched his legs, before turning to Octavia. “I assume you know better than to answer the door for strangers?”

Despite herself, Octavia smiled. “I believe I can handle it. Are you sure you’ll be alright, though? I… we are asking a lot of you.”

Hooves returned the smile. “You have actually asked very little of me, Miss Melody! I’ve practically had to force my help down your throat.”

Octavia’s eyes flicked between Vinyl and Hooves. “I suppose I am just not used to ponies being so kind or generous to me. There always seems to be a cost for help.”

“There usually is.” Hooves set his hoof on her shoulder, “But you don’t always have to be the one to pay it. I recommend you simply take your breaks where you can get them. You never know when you’ll get another. ”

~~~~~

Hooves whistled to himself as he ducked between a pair of buildings, hopped a rail, and started trotting across the narrow maintenance ramp with practiced ease. He preferred not to use this route too often, but the paths he had to the hundredth tier were limited.

In retrospect, he wondered if it might have been better to tell Miss Melody that she wasn’t actually Manehattan Station's most wanted at the moment. Unfortunately for her, as stressful as her position was, Hooves considered a false sense of security far more dangerous.

Hooves snorted, remembering the network news program he’d caught while shopping. Sombra himself had appeared to represent the council and speak to the ponies of the Empire.

“...the incident last night at Crazy Horse was an unfortunate tragedy, but I am happy to report that nopony was injured and the damage to one of Manehattan’s most beloved clubs was kept to a minimum.”

“While I cannot condone Commander Lulamoon’s actions – and will be discussing them with her directly to ensure that such a thing does not happen again – I ask that all of you join me in attempting to understand them.”

“When the Council Guard receives information about a threat to the Empire and its citizens, they must take quick and decisive action. The slightest delay could result in a tragic loss of life and property, and that is something we will not allow. That is why the Council asks that all citizens of the Grand Equestrian Empire comply swiftly with any and all requests from a member of the Council Guard.”

“In this case, Commander Lulamoon’s zeal for protecting the citizens of the Empire caused her to act without complete information and, as a result, she and the guards under her command inconvenienced several innocent ponies. I’m sure we can all appreciate that Commander Lulamoon simply wants to protect the citizens of the Empire, but, to reiterate, I will be discussing the Council Guard’s current methodology directly with Commander Lulamoon and other members of the council to make sure that we can avoid similar disturbances in the future.”

“Finally, let me say that, like so many of you here in the Manehattan Station, I hope for a swift reopening of Crazy Horse. In fact, I will be extending a personal offer of assistance to the club’s owner, Miss Vinyl Scratch. I would hate for her to have to reschedule Sapphire Shores’ upcoming appearance. I can’t be the only pony looking forward to it, can I?”

Hooves had made the connection between that announcement and the two mares quickly enough; even ponies in the lower tiers liked Crazy Horse and Miss Scratch featured prominently the advertisements. The only question that had remained was the circumstances that led to the two of them ending up at his clinic instead of somewhere more appropriate. Luckily for him, walking in on their conversation had clarified that.

The path got a little tricky up ahead, forcing him to navigate a complicated array of pipes, wires, and narrow squeezes between buildings. These maintenance ramps were intended to allow access to the station’s inner workings, but they didn’t make it easy.

He shook his head as he finally reached the maintenance lift and stepped over the chain that blocked the gate, ignoring the rusty and battered “Out of Order” sign.

If Hooves trusted his instincts, then Miss Melody’s situation was even more dangerous than she thought. The entire thrust of Sombra’s speech seemed to be that everything on the station was fine and that the Council Guard had just made a mistake. Hooves knew that that treacherous unicorn wouldn’t say something like that unless he planned on using it to blindside you later.

He wanted Miss Melody to think she was safe and the rest of the station to know nothing about her. Add the offer of peace to Miss Scratch that he’d made, and it all added up to a set of circumstances in which it would be very easy for a single earth pony to disappear without any fuss. Unfortunately for Sombra, like most unicorns, he wasn’t half as smart as he thought he was.

Giving the lift’s maintenance panel a swift kick caused it to slide open, allowing Hooves to reach the magic circuits that powered it. Most magitech devices weren’t that complicated. A little reading, a little hooves on practice, and anypony could hack most of the hardware on the station. Re-enabling the lift, making sure it still wouldn’t be picked up by any of the station’s systems, and setting it to ignore the ID check for the hundredth tier only took about ten minutes of work. Then he simply leaned against the lift’s wall, whistling and watching the city crawl by.

This plan wasn’t foolproof, of course. No plan was. But Sombra had plenty of enemies on the council, and as long as the stone went to one of them, he would have much more important things to be concerned about than Miss Melody.

Hooves had expected Miss Scratch’s pool of contacts to run a bit deeper, but that couldn’t be helped. Miss Heartstrings worked as well as anypony.

The lift jerked to a halt as it reached the top and Hooves stepped off. The maintenance ramps up here were much easier to navigate, but he decided against using them. Actual maintenance happened this high in the city, and explaining his presence to a workpony would be tricky. They didn’t tolerate other ponies messing with the delicate hardware that kept the hundredth tier comfortable and beautiful.

He squinted as he escaped the tunnel-like confines of the maintenance ramps and stepped into the brilliant lights of Eon’s Square. Crossing the tier was easy, at least. Despite the number of pegasi and unicorns surrounding him, the ramps up here were broad enough that twenty ponies could stand shoulder to shoulder and still leave room to walk around them. Besides, most of the ponies that lived in the upper tier stayed out of his way; if an earth pony was up here, they were usually taking care of some mild – and probably filthy – irritation that more important ponies couldn’t be bothered with.

The apartment block Miss Heartstrings lived in sat on the backside of the square, buffered from the noise and lights by a towering mall. The building’s security barely existed, but, to most ponies, living in the hundredth tier proved security enough. Still, he couldn’t help but flinch as his hoofsteps echoed through the hallway. Old instincts died hard.

The risk here felt minimal, but Hooves had long ago learned that feelings were poor substitutes for vigilance. Still, the odds that Miss Heartstrings would collaborate with Sombra were unfathomably low.

He’d paid a lot of attention to the debates leading up to her dismissal from the council: Sombra had done everything short of publicly crucifying her to prove he made more sense on the council than she did. Her history, her hobbies, her relationships… absolutely everything had been spilled to the general public in an effort to discredit her and give the new liaison from the Crystal Station a seat of power.

Humiliations like that rarely faded.

Rounding a corner, he spotted the correct apartment. The console set into the wall had been covered by the overgrowth from a few potted plants – apparently Miss Heartstrings did not care much about receiving company – but a little foliage could hardly deter him.

Taking a deep breath, he tapped the console with his hoof and waited. After a few moments the console’s screen blinked on, revealing the countenance of a haggard unicorn staring blearily into the monitor.

“Yes?” she asked, barely keeping her voice from dipping into a growl.

“Miss Heartstrings?”

“Yes?” she growled.

“I am sorry to disturb you, but I was asked to deliver a message. From a Miss Vinyl Scratch?” He studied the screen, watching as the irritation vanished into her wrinkling brows.

“Vinyl?”

“Yes, Miss Heartstrings.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Miss Heartstrings. She was hoping you might be able to help her out. A friend of hers is in a little bit of trouble.” The fact that she didn’t seem that surprised told him more than she’d probably intended. Her hesitation to respond only further confirmed it: she already knew something about the situation. “We don’t have to talk about this right here. You could invite me in if you liked? Where we could talk privately?”

That gave her pause. “Yes,” she said after a moment, “I suppose I could.” She pressed a hoof to the panel and the screen went dark as the door slid open.

The interior put Hooves in mind of the library’s stacks; no other place on the station would have held even a fraction this many books. Most ponies preferred reading on consoles. Besides, even if they did own books, they certainly would take better care of them.

He stepped carefully over the piles that littered the tiled floor, struggling not to demolish one of the precariously stacked piles or step on the pages of an opened book.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been too busy to clean lately. Lot of work to do.” She levitated a stack of books off of a cushion. “Would you like to sit?”

Hooves shook his head. “No, but thank you Miss Heartstrings.”

She released her magical grip on the books, letting them fall unceremoniously back onto the cushion. “Snack then? Something to drink? I could use coffee.”

“No. I would rather just discuss Miss Scratch and her friend. Mostly whether you think you can help them.”

Shrugging, Lyra trotted to the space that apparently served as the apartment’s kitchen and began fussing with a dispenser built into the wall. “So, why does Vinyl need my help?”

“It is a little forward of me to ask, but can we do this without lying, either directly or indirectly?” Hooves asked. “What happens next depends a lot on trust. I’m reasonably certain you already know what this is all about.”

Lyra turned away from the dispenser. “Who are you?”

“Just somepony who wants to help Miss Scratch and her friend. That’s all.”

Lyra bit her lip and stared at him, no doubt trying to penetrate the placid smile he met her gaze with. Finally relenting, she sighed and asked, “Her friend is an earth pony? Named Octavia Melody?”

Hooves nodded.

The dispenser chimed, the metal panel sliding back to reveal a steaming black mug. Lyra levitated the drink to her as she found a cushion to sit on, nearly dropping it as a yawn broke her concentration. A long swig delayed her next statement. “Do you know the Council Guard is looking for her? And do you know why?”

“Perhaps,” Hooves said.

She threw up her hooves. “Are you going to tell me anything at all?”

His smile broadened a bit. Ponies tended to be so impatient. “Maybe.”

“Fine. Unfortunately, I can’t help them myself. I know somepony who wants to help them, though.” She glared at him. “See, I can be vague and irritating too.”

He let Lyra’s snarkiness slide. The earnestness of it all helped set him at ease. She seemed to be being straight with him. “That’s fine. I think that’s enough to come to an agreement. A meeting between our mutual friends, perhaps? On my terms, of course.”

“I can’t promise anything, you know,” she grumbled, taking another sip from her mug. Her eyes were looking brighter and more alert already. “Well, nothing except for the fact that I doubt they’ll like the idea of a meeting on your terms.”

“I suspect they’ll find a way to work with them.” Hooves finally sat down, though he kept the front door in the corner of his vision. “Your friends – who I expect are on the council – will meet us at a location of my choosing, at a time of my choosing. They will send a message to the network account I give you by nine on the day they want to meet, and I will respond with the time and place of the meeting. They may bring one of their personal guards with them. I won’t accept any intermediaries. If they meet our conditions, they can have the stone.”

“And I suppose you’re all going to want, what, a million bits or something?”

“No. You can let your friends know that our requests are quite simple: pardons for Miss Scratch and Miss Melody, as well as a little assurance that Miss Melody will be safe once the stone is out of her hooves.”

Lyra stared at Hooves. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m sure Miss Melody wouldn’t mind a million bits, but I feel the less we ask, the more we’re likely to get.”

“Probably.” She let the mug float to the floor, every ounce of liquid drained. “I’ll need—”

“I’m reasonably sure you can get me at least a yes or no tonight, particularly if you let them know that my best advice to Miss Melody would be that, if your friends can’t help, she toss the stone out an airlock.”

“Don’t do that!” Lyra shouted as she jumped to her hooves, knocking the empty cup aside.

Hooves watched her horn carefully as he gestured for her to sit back and smiled reassuringly. “I promise you, I would much rather not do that. I just think it is important to impress upon you and your friends the reality of the situation. Obey a few simple precautions and smooth things over for a pair of ponies that have nothing to do with whatever this little game is, and you all get exactly what you want. Don’t, and you might force otherwise reasonable ponies to take desperate measures. Okay?”

“Fine,” Lyra grunted, “I’ll get you an answer tonight.”