So insignificant. So guileless. So . . . I suppose Rep would say cute.

But Wishful was a problem.

At first glance, he looked the same as the others: a colorful furball--blue, in his case--with a soft bristle of whiskers and deep, watery eyes. Nothing special. Just another bushwoolie. Just another slave.

But he separated himself from the collective mind of his kind enough to claim his own name . . . and iconoclasts are dangerous.

And yet . . . How could I have guessed? It seemed unremarkable, even convenient. Bushwoolies do not understand "me"; to them every command is directed at "we" and "us". Not so bad when you tell them to scrub the floors, but disastrous if you ask them to bring you breakfast in bed; by the end of the meal you'll be covered in eggs and orange juice as half a dozen bushwoolies "helpfully" jostle each other.

How useful, then, when I could start giving orders to one bushwoolie, and only one. No more pointing at the huddle when I issued commands; this one had a name. Very useful, though Rep told me only out of amusement.

Yes, bushwoolies amused him. Maybe that was really the first warning.

For a while, everything ran as smoothly as ever. Despite his slight strain towards individuality, Wishful acted exactly like a normal bushwoolie, obediant and docile. He seemed content to follow orders. It's their nature to be agreeable, their destiny to serve. Bushwoolies have no ambition.

Or so I thought. Looking back, I know I missed the point. This bushwoolie was Wishful; for what did he wish?

One day Wishful slowly waddled up to my throne as he had dozens of times before. He clutched a crystal basin to his body, a crystal basin with a shallow measure of green liquid sloshing about the bottom. I licked my lips; I could almost taste the sharp tang of the potion already.

"Here's your witchweed potion, Your Queenness." Wishful awkwardly hoisted the bowl above his head.

"Be careful with that!" I hissed as the basin nearly slipped from his hands. The slaves were getting sloppy. I might have to make an example of someone, I frowned. Wishful peered at me from behind the crystalline rim as I reached for the bowl. "Well?" I said. "What do you have to say for yourself, slave?"

Splinters of crystal flew as the basin shattered on the stone floor.

I sat very still. Yes, it's time to make an example.

"So." The blue bushwoolie froze as I plucked a jagged shard off the tiles.

"I seem to be out of witchweed potion." Being careful not to cut myself, I drew a finger across the glass, watching the film of green liquid pool around it. I ran my finger through my mouth, ignoring the unpleasant aftertaste as the magical energy jolted through me.

"That was careless of you, Wishful." I stood, at the same time using the newfound power to grow until my ears nearly brushed the ceiling.

"Get me some more."

The bushwoolie squeaked, huddled into a ball, and rolled right out of the room, propelled by fear or maybe my magically enhanced voice. Either way, satisfying. I began to sit down but quickly straightened; the throne wasn't built for giants. Besides, I wanted to make sure Wishful was appropriately cowed. Stooping through the doorway, I headed for the brewery.

The power never lasted long enough, never. I had already begun to shrink by the time I reached the brewing room. I paused, hidden by a snarl of machinery, all part of the extensive witchweed machine. The distiller was vaguely shaped like a cat, and the stomach of the creature boiled and churned with unprocessed witchweed potion. Gazing through the hulking, green-stained glass tubes, I saw Rep standing near the grinding pit, surrounded by a crowd of bushwoolies. Wishful, in the foreground, looked more determined than repentant as he gazed up at Rep.

"--told you to be careful!" the shape-shifting reptilian scolded, exasperated. "Now she'll get mad at me!" I felt a twinge of guilt. I am too hard on Rep, perhaps; they aren't easy to deal with. But he's too lenient, too soft . . .

"--and a whole vat of witchweed only makes a tiny amount of potion, so you've got to be careful," Rep was explaining in a too-patient voice. "You spilled a week of work."

"Too bad!" Wishful replied, not sounding the least bit sorry. "We're tired of being slaves!"

My eyes narrowed as I stared towards the other bushwoolies, but they looked nearly as shocked as Rep. Or were they? Already some were slowly nodding and tentatively murmuring, "Yeah, tired!"

Inspired by their support, Wishful threw his arms in the air and announced, "We're going to escape!"

"Escape?" I snapped, striding up and holding him above the pit of volatile green potion by the scruff of his neck. liquid. "I'll show you what happens to bushwoolies who want to escape!"

"Couldn't he just lose a privilege?" Rep suggested, only half-joking as he wrung his dark green hands. Soft.

"Yeah yeah, a privilege," the other bushwoolies agreed, huddling together.

"You have no privileges. You're my slaves." I casually tossed the blue bushwoolie into the vat. No more Wishful, no more rebellion--

"NO!" A light sweep of magic danced around Rep as he leapt into the pit, changing, shifting . . . and a moment later a dark green buzzard flapped out, clutching Wishful in its talons.

"How dare you?" I hissed. "How dare you betray me?" A backhanded slap sent him tumbling; I turned on my heel and stalked away.

A mistake. Authority is five percent strength and ninety-five percent perception. Back in the throne room, I paced, scowling, trying to decide what to do. I could spare Wishful's life, but I would appear weak. I could kill him, but I would appear indecisive.

Why did I leave? I knew what had to be done. I thought. I will allow nothing will stand in my way. I should've kicked him right back into that pit.

And yet . . . what would Rep have done? Would the Lacertilian have interfered again? Probably. He was fond of bushwoolies. Such a nuisance, Rep was.

Rep, who didn't understand power.

Rep, who didn't understand destiny.

Rep, who had defied me.

Rep, who had saved my life . . .

Foolishness can have a nobility.

"Live, then, Wishful," I whispered into the darkness. "But it is a reprieve, not a pardon."

The following weeks tumbled together; I put aside the bushwoolie problem and concentrated on the big picture. The ponies dominated this area as both rulers and citizens, to the extent that few creatures remembered the country's real name, Equinna. After a few generations, "the ponies' land" evolved into "Ponyland." Officially, the royalty discouraged the name; all sentient creatures were equal in the law of Equinna.

In practice, some species were more equal than others.

The laws of power are the same in every land. It's comforting.

I had set up the underground lair in the shadows of the largest inland city, Dream Valley. It would be difficult to gain control of the valley, but no other city would provide adequate protection against the pony royalty's assault. Magic strengthened Dream Castle's walls and the ponies' powerful armada would be useless.

Fortunately, because of the ill-advised freedoms of the land, the mercenaries would sweep in and take the castle before the ponies even understood the danger. Two armies hovered on the edges of Ponyland's borders, already paid, and I negotiated with a third in testy letters; a pity that their greed delayed my plans.

Meanwhile, Rep pushed the slaves to increase production of witchweed potion, sped along by hints that I would not tolerate lackluster efforts or dissent from his furry charges. With the heavy grind of machinery thrumming in the background, I analyzed the defenses of Dream Castle again and again.

Though the castle's rose-marble turrets and walls towered tall, the magical beasts within would undoubtedly be responsible for most of the casualties. Each unicorn's powers differed, with the strongest able to take down a squadron unassisted. The Rainbow ponies' abilities were even more eclectic, ranging from the amusing to the deadly.

The Vallians would obviously notice if the unicorns--nearly a fourth of the city's population--gradually disappeared, so I reluctantly decided to deal with the most powerful of them just before the battle royal. Handled properly, the assassinations could even distract the ponies from the armies without as they dealt with the killers within. A simultaneous strike against the royal capital, Crystal Castle, would delay the princes and princesses, hopefully eliminating a few.

That left only one obstacle: the Rainbow of Light. Strange that a battered locket would be such a threat, but it surfaced again and again on musty pages and eroding monuments. Centuries had passed since Ponyland's great wars, and some considered the Rainbow of Light to be only a legend, myth mixed with metaphor, but I wasn't going to risk it. Even if the locket was only an intricate piece of goldsmithing, it symbolized something greater. A flag is more dangerous than a sword.

Majesty, queen of Dream Castle, held the artifact; the stealthiest of the assassins could take down two birds with one stone, I reasoned. If only I could bring the third army in line quickly . . .

I tapped a finger thoughtfully against the arm of the throne, then drafted a stern letter to the uncooperative general, a take-it-or-leave-it offer. Blotting the ink carefully, two neat folds and a daub of heated wax sealed the message. I suppressed a yawn as I pressed my signet ring into the softened wax, leaving the impression of a stylized feline head. No other signature would be required or included; the pigeon should make the flight safely, but it never hurt to cover your tracks . . .

I sent the bird quickly, watching it disappear amongst the blazing stars before returning indoors. Leaning against the throne's heavy back, I closed my eyes for a moment. In the background, the witchweed machine droned softly. "Tomorrow," I murmured, curling up. "Tomorrow it begins . . ."

I woke with a start. Splashes of sunlight lit the floor, piped into the underground throne room by a series of mirrors and ducts. Blinking, I rubbed my eyes, at the same time working a crick out of my neck. "I've got to stop falling asleep on the job," I muttered irritably. Frowning, I glanced around the room. Something was . . . wrong. I couldn't quite pinpoint it, but . . .

With a sudden skitter of claws, Rep tore into the room, almost overshooting the door. "Catrina!"

"Rep? What? What's wrong?"

He slumped against the doorframe, trying to catch his breath. "The . . . the bushwoolies! The witchweed machine!"

"The bushwoolies." I listened. "The bushwoolies have stopped working? You let them stop?"

"I--that is--Catrina, that's . . . that's not exactly true." His fingers twitched nervously.

"Well, if they're still working," I said sweetly, "then why isn't the witchweed machine running?"

"They--" He choked on the word. "They escaped."

Stillness poured down the halls of the underground citadel.

"I j-just woke up and they were gone," he gulped.

"Escaped." I drew in a deep breath. "But they were locked up at night. You did remember to lock them in?"

"Yes, yes, I swear! But the sun ducts," he pointed to the small rectangular passages set high on the walls, the interiors gleaming with light. "They were small enough to go through!"

I cursed under my breath. We had spent hours planning the sun ducts of the underground lair, crawling through the narrow passages and tilting the mirrors to just the right angles. Back when I had larger slaves in mind. Back before I knew about bushwoolies.

Now I wished I'd never heard of the little hairballs. How much did the bushwoolies know about my plans? Had Rep or I mentioned the mercenaries around them? The costs of moving in the armies? Did they know about the assassination plans? They never seemed to be paying attention, but I wouldn't have put anything past Wishful. Did they understand the scope of invasion?

And more importantly, would they tell anyone in "the ponies' land"?

I rose and swept towards the brewery with Rep in tow. "Where are we going?" he asked nervously.

"First we're going to stock up on witchweed potion," I said. "Then it's time for a little damage control."

Just outside the hidden entrance to the lair, a trail of trampled brush and bits of colorful fur marked the bushwoolies path, but soon their tracks split into two smaller trails, then three, then four. "Wishful," I muttered spitefully, peering into the forest. "Only he would think of splitting up. Come on."

"Now what?" he asked, anxiously gripping the wooden vial hanging around his neck.

"We've no time to lose. If the bushwoolies tell the ponies our plans . . ." I paused. The ponies had not forged and held their empire by being forgiving and forgetting.

"We should leave, then," Rep said instantly. "Get out of the country while we still can."

"As brave as always," I said drily. "No, we're going to speed things up, that's all."

"But the mercenaries--"

"--are not needed for today's exercise. Give me the vial." He reluctantly handed it over. "Good. Now follow me."

"We're going towards the castle?" Rep asked.

"Right. I want you to get a good look at some of those ponies. There." Faint shouts of laughter floated up from the valley as the ponies rushed around in a multicolored swirl. Nearer, just beyond the copse of pine trees, four ponies lazed under the sunset. Two unicorns bantered back and forth a little while a yellow earthling slept. Nearby, a white pony with pink hair jumped for apples, tripping over her own hooves more often than not.

"Now what?" Rep whispered, crouching behind a pine tree.

"Try turning into one."

"What?"

"Shift into a pony form," I said impatiently.

"I've never tried an equine shape before," he protested, but he leaned forward, examining the ponies. "I think I've got it." His form blurred and shifted until a fair approximation of a dark green pony stood before me.

"Let's back up a little," I said softly, noticing that the light blue unicorn had looked up, puzzled, when Rep had begun his transformation. We moved deeper into the forest. "Not bad, but the muzzle needs to be shorter . . . their ears are sharper than that. Yes, that's good." I frowned. "But you don't have a symbol."

"I can change my shape, not my colors," the shapeshifter said.

"This will have to do, then."

"Catrina . . ." He shifted his hooves. "I . . . I can't kill anyone. Not even for you."

I looked at him sharply. "Did I say you would have to?"

"Well, no. I just thought . . . if you wanted me to turn into a pony . . ."

"I know your limitations." A trace of scorn crept into my voice. "There would be little point in sending you on a task you were bound to fail."

"My 'limitations' saved you once," he replied quietly.

I turned away. "I haven't forgotten." A pause. "Perhaps you'd like to hear my plan before you leap to any more conclusions?"

"Yes, alright." He sounded resigned.

"You will be infiltrating the castle." He gaped. "Don't talk to anyone. Dream Valley gets many merchants and visitors, so you should be all right. And try to keep in the shadows. Symbols are important to ponies."

"But--but--"

I hurried on, cutting off his protest. "Queen Majesty's thone room is on the first floor, in the dead center of the castle. You remember what the Rainbow of Light looks like, Rep?"

"Er . . . it's a locket, isn't it? A heart-shaped locket."

"Right. A gold locket worked with rubies. Wait outside the throne room and when you see a pony carrying the locket--it will probably be Majesty herself--knock her down, grab it, and get out of there in any form you can."

"You want me to steal the Rainbow of Light? In front of all those unicorns?"

"Wait until you're in front of a window and change into a bird or something," I said irritably. "I'm counting on you, Rep."

"Maybe my 'symbol' should be a big red and white target," Rep grumbled. "What makes you think they'll even take the Rainbow out of the throne room?"

"Oh, they'll take it out." I stared at the ponies talking and playing beyond the forest. "Leave it to me."

Rep shook his head. "Oh Catrina, you've grown so cold . . ."

"You do have good ideas sometimes," I purred. "Now go, Rep. Go."

I waited to make sure he had time to get inside the castle, then uncorked the vial. The witchweed potion's metallic tang scored my throat as I swallowed. The power burned within me . . . I concentrated, dragging the steel grey clouds until they swallowed the sun.

"What's happening?" one of the ponies cried from the glen.

"It's growing so cold . . ."

"Sparkler! Powder!" The voice floated down faintly, as if someone was bellowing from a great distance. I swirled, stared upward, just as the rainbow-haired stallion leapt from the highest pine boughs. My heart jumped to my throat. If he had overheard my instructions to Rep--but no, the cold winds had just woken him from his nap. Yes, that was it . . . I hoped.

"Skydancer! What's going on?" the lavender unicorn called. I backed farther into the forest as she moved forward. Clouds . . . I needed more clouds . . . and wind. Concentrate!

"I don't know--" he spiralled lower. "Maybe you should ask her!" He looked straight at me.

Spotted. But too late for them. I held out a hand and a bitter wind shrieked, slamming the pegasus into a ponderosa. Plummeting, spinning as the wind caught beneath his wings, he landed safely but awkwardly, hunkering low and digging his hooves into turf as a flurry of snow whistled around his companions. As the bluster roared into full gale, the storm swept over the valley, screaming around the marble turrets of Dream Castle. The wind tossed the pegasi like autumn leaves as the earthlings and unicorns struggled over deepening drifts. The ponies screamed orders to each other in panic, rushing towards the castle; the unicorns reared offensively, not knowing where to strike.

But in the glade, the yellow pegasus shouted over the wind. ". . . there . . . cat . . ."

The lavender unicorn flailed over a six-foot snowbank, charging in my general direction. As she stumbled forward, the blue unicorn closed her eyes and aimed a volley of lightning bolts into the trees. A snap of electricity singed my cloak as I swirled to one side. If Rep didn't come soon . . .

Suddenly, I spotted a creature half-obscured by snowflakes struggling over the lip of the hill. A dark green pony? No, a small dark green dragon clenching a pendant in its claws. He fought against the wind, but I didn't dare let it slacken with lightning bolts still sizzling around me. If the unicorn could aim that well in zero visibility . . .

"Rep! Over here!"

He lurched forward, wings beating, and now I saw that something weighed him down, something slightly whiter than the snow. A pink-haired foal stubbornly clenched her teeth around the locket's chain, leaving furrows in the snow as Rep dragged her along.

"Get rid of her and let's go!" I cried as the shapeshifter pulled himself into the forest. I pulled him behind a tree as lightning sang through the spot where he had stood.

"Sparkler!" the lavender unicorn called into the wind as she leapt forward. Her words were half blown away. "Stop! Baby Moondancer!" The hail of lightning died.

"Ow!" Rep howled as the baby unicorn placed some well-aimed kicks at his legs. As I tried to pull her away she swiveled and sunk her teeth into my hand.

"Give back the Rainbow!" she demanded as I shook her loose.

"Baby Moondancer, get out of there!" someone screamed. The ground trembled with hoofbeats.

"I'll take the locket and you. Rep, a ride!"

"You're too heavy," he protested as I leapt onto him with the squirming foal under one arm. But with a running start, his dragon wings caught the wind leftover from the snowstorm. We swept into the air, heading homeward as darkness fell on Dream Valley.

"Let me go!" the baby pony squalled as I dragged her into the underground citadel.

"Catrina, what are we going to do with her? The ponies will be looking for her," Rep said, shifting to his natural form.

"They would've come searching for their precious Rainbow anyway," I replied, tossing the unicorn into the bushwoolies' former quarters and locking the door. "A hostage will give us an edge. Besides, we need new slaves." I tossed the empty vial beside an iron spigot. Nothing to fill it with now.

"You're going to enslave the ponies?"

"Why so surprised, Rep? You know we need them for the witchweed machine. You didn't protest when we put your precious bushwoolies to work," I added, irritated.

"That was different. The bushwoolies lived here anyway and . . . they weren't smart enough to be unhappy. Well . . . except Wishful."

"The bushwoolies are gone. Wishful's gone. The ponies are here. What did you think we were going to do with them after taking over Dream Castle? Politely ask them to leave?"

"But enslaving them all?"

"The ones that survive."

"Catrina . . . can't we just leave the ponies alone?"

"If we didn't have slaves, who would make the witchweed potion?" I asked testily.

Rep absentmindedly fingered the broken crystal from the throne room. "Suppose you didn't have the potion anymore."

"Why wouldn't I want the potion? It makes me powerful!"

"I remember you before you were powerful . . ."

"And I remember being imprisoned into a dank, musty prison cell by those who were," I said drily, checking the gauges on the witchweed machine. "I will not be caged again."

"When you become what you hate, you're always caged," Rep said quietly, staring at the shards of glass cradled in his hands.

I stared at him for long minutes before speaking. "Give me the locket." He wordlessly handed me the Rainbow and slipped out the door.

I slipped it around my neck as I stood encircled with frozen machinery. Only the refining pit simmered on, throwing strange green-tinted shadows along the walls. I shifted my feet, feeling suddenly angry but unsure why. After a moment, I began gathering up the spintered crystal. I dropped a fragment into the vat, watching it glow and melt as the liquid bubbled around it, and felt a little better. One by one they fell, dissolving, splattering against the stone walls of the pit as the potion roiled and rose. Nothing would stand in my way. Nothing. No one.

"One more," I said, standing. Turning the last fragment over in my hand, I heard the door to the hallway creak. I turned to ask Rep what he wanted.

The crystal shattered into a thousand tiny splinters against the stones.

"Wishful."

"You'll be wishing you hadn't messed with us in about three seconds."

I drew in a breath as five ponies crowded into the room: two unicorns, two earthlings, and the rainbow-haired pegasus. The ponies from the glade . . . with the blue unicorn glaring across the brewing pit with particular malevolence.

"Good job, Wishful," the yellow earth pony said. "We'd never have found it without you."

"Hey, even the best flier would have trouble tracking a black-cloaked cat on a black night in a black forest," the pegasus murmured, tilting his head. "But now that we've traced Cat Woman to her lair . . ."

The ponies moved forward cautiously, edging around the gaping pit. "You give back Baby Moondancer right now!" the white pony said, a slight tremor in her voice.

"And the Rainbow of Light!" added the other earthling.

"You want the Rainbow?" I wrapped my fingers around the locket and jerked it off, breaking the chain. "Go get it." A flick of my wrist sent it skittering across the floor straight towards the gaping pit. I backed away, watching the ponies scrambled in a confusion of hooves and manes. The purple unicorn almost managed to grab it before tripping over the white pony. The pegasus dove, too late to catch the flashing pendant. "No!" one of the earthlings cried as the sizzling green mixture engulfed the Rainbow of Light.

"Oh yes," I purred, quickly unlocking the deadbolts to the slaves' sleeping quarters and pulling out the baby unicorn. "And now you'll do as I ask, I think."

"Let her go." The pegasus spoke quietly, eyes gleaming.

"Skydancer!" The foal struggled, twisting her head to bite when I shifted my grip. "Sundance!"

"Hang on, Baby Moondancer!" The white pony looked as though she might break into tears too. Weakling.

"If you really want me to let go . . ." They tensed as I gripped a handful of petal-pink hair and held the filly aloft above the churning pit.

"Catrina, no! That's going too far!"

I blinked in surprise as Rep leapt out of nowhere and grabbed my arm. What did he think he was doing? "Let go, you fool!" A swift elbow jab sent him reeling.

"You asked for it, Catrina."

I stared in disbelief as he charged, shifting into the form of a dark green bull in midstride. Rep? He leaped, he lunged, and I lost my hold on the baby unicorn as I stumbled backwards. As the ceiling fell away, a white and pink blur flashed above me, catching the baby pony.

"I did it, Posey!"

I twisted, dug my claws into the unyielding stone . . . still falling . . .

"You sure did, Sundance . . ."

The heat seethed around me now . . . nothing to hold on to . . . the liquid leapt to consume me . . .

With a jerk, I caught hold of something. My feet scrabbled less than a foot from the hissing potion. I looked up, trying to draw a breath through the thick heat. My hand curled around the single outcropping in the pit, a brick half pulled from the smooth, uniform wall. The rim of the pit haloed Rep and the ponies, dark shapes staring down.

"Rep," I struggled to remain calm, keep my voice calm. "Rep, help me."

"I don't know, Catrina." His voice floated down. "If only you could change . . . and be good again . . . "

Silence.

"Catrina?"

"I will not be caged again." My voice was flat. Someone else's voice. I stared into the volatile green liquid.

"But Catrina!" His voice rose with anxiety; he swirled towards the intruders, fingers spread in a wordless plea.

"She destroyed the Rainbow of Light," one of the ponies said--I couldn't tell which. "She kidnapped Baby Moondancer! How can we trust her? No."

"Everyone deserves a chance." Noble, foolish Rep . . . probably the only creature in the world who actually believed such tired cliches. "The witchweed machine--she can't do anything without that." And I'd always thought Rep was so truthful. "If she promises to destroy it--"

Another silence. My arms ached. Then a voice, hesitating. "We . . . will see what we can do."

Rep looked down. "Catrina?"

The witchweed machine. It took forever to build.

"Catrina?" Rep sounded nervous. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I promise."

"Catch," Rep said simply, leaning as far over the pit as he could before sending the wooden vial tumbling end over end. I caught it with my free hand, popped it open, and held it to my lips. Empty . . . almost. But a single drop dribbled down, clung to the lip of the vial.

I lapped it up, gathered the power around me, and fly straight up, reveling in the power. The ponies gasped, collectively gathering around the baby unicorn, as I hovered with a sharp smile.

"The witchweed machine, Catrina!" Rep edged in front of them. "Remember what you said!"

I drew in a breath. Five ponies. Five ponies and Wishful, crouched by the door, ready to run.

Lightning bolts tore from my eyes as I turned, sending a spray of schrapnel flying as the intricate machinery exploded. Rep and the ponies cowered as twisted shards of metal hailed around them, flinched when the combustible cylinders exploded in a white-hot blaze.

"My magical shield will protect you," I said calmly. The ponies eyed me with suspicion, Rep gazed at me with hope, and fire flared in my eyes as I bared my teeth in a smile.

The journey to Dream Castle was subdued. The pegasus soared above the pines, following my movements intently. The earthlings led the way, occasionally glancing over their shoulders, wide-eyed. Behind, the unicorns marched in unison, their faces set with ice and doubt. The baby carried Wishful on her back, and both were strangely solemn. Rep walked beside me, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed at the stars and tripped over the woodland clutter once in a while. I stared straight ahead, absently twisting the cats-head ring on my left hand.

Soon the rose-veined castle loomed before us. Faint torches flickered around the perimeter, casting strange shadows on the creeping ivy. The diamond-symboled unicorn turned as we drew near the vast entrance leading to the main hall of the castle.

"Wait here," she said to our eclectic group, then disappeared in a flash of magic. The night stretched as the ponies shifted their hooves and Rep wrung his hands. I stood silently, gazing at the tarnished portcullis barbing the ceiling before the doorway. Yes, the rules of power were the same in every land . . .

The blue unicorn reappeared just as suddenly. "Baby Moondancer, Cupcake has supper ready for you in the kitchens." With Wishful still on her back the foal ran off, apparentally unscarred from her exciting day.

The purple-haired unicorn turned to the rest of us and added, "This way."

Her hooves clattered against the flagstones of the entranceway, then sank into the plush red carpet striping the hall. I walked steadily, glancing at the portraits and tapestries lining the hallway.

Rep's eyes were locked on the carved double doors ahead, however. "The throne room," he murumured. The blue unicorn threw him a sharp look and seemed about to say something, but merely snorted and moved forward to pull the door-tassel instead.

Blue and silver standards shifted as the massive doors slowly, noiselessly swung inward. Black marble ribbed the cathedral ceiling and I could see my releflection in the pearl-white floor, a single seemless slab of stone polished and smoothed to perfection. Broad marble steps, also white, rose to the dais, bisected by the blood red carpet. Power. The room reeked of power.

Atop the dais a blue-maned unicorn stared down, her red robe sweeping around smooth white hooves. Her voice rang clear. "I am Majesty, queen of Dream Castle."

"And I am Catrina." I curtseyed deeply, keeping my eyes on the unicorn.

"Rep," was all my reptilian friend could squeak out.

She pinned Rep with a single glance. "You stole the Rainbow of Light."

Rep nodded nervously, although it had not been a question.

"It was lost, Sparkler tells me."

Behind me the rainbow-haired pony sighed.

"An unfortunate accident," I said.

The queen raised an eyebrow. "Accident?"

"That's not true--" the purple unicorn began indignantly, tossing her white mane, but Majesty cut her off with a look.

"Yes, well . . . I tossed it to the ponies and unfortunately it fell short and slid right into my brewing pit," I explained.

"I see." Pause. "What do you brew?"

"You are familiar with witchweed? Five leaves, and purple flowers in the spring." The queen nodded, so I continued. "If ground up, mixed with certain other ingredients, heated, and distilled, you can make a potion from it. It gives the drinker magical powers . . . but only for a time . . ."

"The snowstorm."

"My work," I acknowledge. "I am sorry."

"I'll bet," Sparkler snorted.

"She destroyed the witchweed machine," Rep said suddenly. "She is sorry."

Majesty looked towards the ponies.

"She did destroy the machine," the yellow earthling admitted reluctantly. "And she protected us from the explosion with some kind of shield."

"After nearly deep-frying Baby Moondancer, yes," the pegasus stallion grinned mirthlessly.

"That was an accident," I said quickly. "I never intended to drop her. I was . . . bumped." Rep shifted uncomfortably beside me.

"Why did you take the Rainbow?"

"I heard it was--" I was about to say powerful, but changed my mind. "--magical." Feeling that wasn't enough, I added, "I wanted it for myself."

"Greed, then."

"Yes."

"I see. And what happened to the locket after it fell into the pit?"

"It sunk," Rep said softly.

"Did it melt?"

I frowned. "Presumably."

"But did you see it?"

"Well, no."

"Hmm."

Rep and I exchanged puzzled glances as Majesty gazed distantly at the ceiling and absently tapped a hoof.

"Sparkler. Please escort our two . . . guests . . . to the top floor of the North Turret. Powder, fetch two unicorns to keep watch."

"Moondancer and Sunbeam," the pegasus suggested with a devilish grin.

"No, they'll want to stay with their foal. Try Gusty and Moonstone. Sky Flier, if you can't find one of them."

Powder nodded and teleported away.

"Skydancer, Posey, and Sundance, I have some questions for you three." Majesty glanced towards me as I trailed after Sparkler. "Your observations should be most . . . enlightening."

The conversation was cut off abruptly as the double doors slammed behind me.

The unicorn kept a suspicious eye fixed over her shoulder as she led the way. Once in a while a sleepy pony gaped from a side door or twisted her head to stare after us, but not often at that late hour. Soon Sparkler was prodding us up a steep spiral staircase.

"Catrina . . ."

"What, Rep?"

"Nothing."

At last the stairs flattened, transfiguring into a small, straight hall with a rough-hewn door on either side. Rep leaned his hands on his knees, puffing slightly, as the unicorn kicked the doors open. "One in each," she said simply.

I paused, frowning, before pushing into the lefthand room. The door closed behind me with an audible click. I glanced around my new quarters. A light coat of dust powdered the room, from the simply made pallet to the battered wooden desk and chair. A slightly chipped bowl and pitcher sat on an end table, along with a candle. Of course, there was no way to light it, but a full moon glittered through the window. Not so bad. It had probably been a real guest room once, abandoned for lower chambers.

I went to the window and pressed my hands against the glass, staring at the moonlit landscape far below. From the hall, I heard the unicorn guards exchange their greetings. But I believed in destiny . . . and myself.

Nevertheless, I leaned there a long time, washed in moonlight.

The next morning, I listened closely at the door as the unicorns bantered. Majesty had sent a pair of Guardians to search the underground citadel.

I sat down on the bed. Predictable, but unfortunate. I thought of the neatly stacked letters and maps and of two (maybe three) mercenary armies hovering just outside Ponyland's borders, and for once I couldn't see a way out.

I was still trying to think of a plausible explanation when a pale unicorn with rich green hair shoved the door open and abruptly said, "They want you in the throne room."

I followed, not looking at Rep as he stepped beside me. The great doors rolled open again; Majesty still stood on the dais, but now a colorful collection of officials and advisors surrounded her, as well as the five ponies who had challenged me--had it been only last night? Two of them wore ribboned damsel hats. Princesses. One wore a tiara and balanced a silver scepter in the crook of one leg. The High Queen.

But though the princesses outranked her, only Majesty spoke, a courtesy perhaps granted because we stood in her fief. We went over the familiar ground. Had I caused the snowstorm? Yes. And I sent Rep for the Rainbow? Yes. And the baby pony? She wouldn't let got of the locket . . .

As I wondered how long I would have to repeat myself, two earth ponies trotted in, nodding to the gathered councillors and bowing deeply to Majesty and the royalty.

"We have returned," the white stallion announced, as if no one could tell. His body was covered with patterned flames to match his yellow and red hair.

"The Rainbow?"

"Not a trace of it," sighed the other pony, a completely blue mare. "Though if we search the drainage system--"

"We will," Majesty said. "Anything else of interest?"

I concentrated on my hands, not allowing them to clench. I am Catrina. I will succeed.

"Well--"

I will succeed. Destiny . . .

"--only a pile of charred papers. Burnt beyond deciphering."

"Recipes," Rep said suddenly. "For the potion. I heard the ponies running around the halls and, and I didn't want anyone else to use it. I didn't want anyone to use it," he added in a softer voice, "ever again."

I drew a deep, deep breath. "You did the right thing, Rep." On the dais, a few ponies murmured their approval. I bit back a desire to laugh.

Majesty frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I think we've covered everything. You stole the Rainbow of Light, but didn't mean to destroy it. You took the baby, but did not intend to harm her."

Some of the advisors muttered to each other at that, but the yellow princess suddenly spoke. "Without the Rainbow of Light or a hostage, she would not have had an advantage. I believe her on this point. She isn't the type to act in rage."

"Still, the Rainbow was lost," said the other princess, a lavender unicorn.

Both drew near the High Queen, speaking in low voices. I caught a word here and there; "kidnapping" and "Rainbow" and "rehibiliation." And "dungeon."

The high ruler of Ponyland listened intently, turning first towards the purple-haired earthling and then to the lavender unicorn. At last she nodded, speaking to them in a soft but decisive voice. Both princesses nodded, their gem-studded symbols flashing as they quietly stepped back.

All eyes turned to the High Queen. The white pegasus tilted her head, examining me with clear blue eyes. "Perhaps your actions sprang from malice, perhaps from greed. Within the bounds of the law, your reasons matter little. Abducting a foal is bad enough, but destroying Equinna's most powerful and sacred artifact . . ." She shook her head. "Certain factions are clamoring for severe punishment. Lifetime imprisonment. Death, perhaps."

"I . . . would prefer death to dungeons," I said stiffly.

The White Queen glanced toward the five ponies who had stormed my citadel. "So I've heard. Yet the decision is not yours."

"Still . . . the laws are primarily meant to protect our citizens; punishment is secondary and sometimes unnecessary. Sometimes." She eyed me sharply and I kept the hope from my face.

The depthless blue eyes swept on, surveying the room as the silver highlights glittered in the pony's mane. "We've heard from Catrina and her associate, Rep, as well as Skydancer, Sparkler, Powder, Posey, Sundance, and (briefly) Baby Moondancer. Two Guardians have investigated the situation--" She looked at Majesty inquiringly.

"Flare and Blue Moon," Majesty provided. "Sparkler is also a Guardian, Your Highness."

The pegasus twitched her wings a little at the formality, but only said, "Plenty of reliable witnesses, then. Unless we've missed anyone, we can--"

"Missed someone? Oh yeah, you missed someone. Yeah, yeah."

Behind me, whispers of surprise rippled through the crowd. Beside me, Rep tugged on my sleeve with both hands as he twisted toward the doorway, wide-eyed. And I, I stared straight ahead and made my hands lie straight and stiff against my cloak.

"One of your subjects, Majesty?" the High Queen said, recovering.

"I've never seen such a creature before," Majesty answered. "What are you, little fellow? What's your name?"

"Name? Oh yeah, I got a name. Yeah, yeah." He was waddling towards the dais now, leaving bits of blue fur sticking to the floor. "I'm Wishful."

I stole a brief glance at Rep from the corner of my eye. It was fortunate that Lacertilians, a dark green race, couldn't really blanch.

"That's right, that name did come up earlier," the yellow princess pony said. "You were at Catrina's lair with the ponies?"

He nodded.

The turquoise-haired princess took a step forward, the ribbons bobbing on her damsel hat. "You heard the testimony about the kidnapping? About the Rainbow?" And when the bushwoolie nodded, she asked, "Do you have anything to add?"

Wishful peered up at the dais. "No, oh no, ponies' statements are right, mm-hmm, yeah."

"But perhaps you have something else to share?" the white pegasus said softly. "We would appreciate any information you have on these matters. Witchweed. The Rainbow. Documents."

Wishful turned slightly, subtly, studying me. I saw the coldness in those eyes and lost all hope For all my worries about unicorns and princesses, I had not seen the threat right under my nose. He knew everything.

His expression grew thoughtful as he shifted to Rep. The shapeshifter's fingers, twitching nervously since he'd entered the throne room, now writhed in a tangle of worry. The Lacertilian's eyes tightened with anxiety as he met Wishful's gaze. Rep shot half a glance towards me, then met the bushwoolie's stare with pleading eyes. Hunching, he mouthed one word: "Please.

The bushwoolie looked away, up at the royal ponies towering about him, glittering with power. The seconds stretched.

"Ponies know everything about everything, yes they do, yes yes."

The High Queen watched him for several minutes, unblinking, before turning toward the white unicorn. "Majesty, if you could possibly find a place where Starburst, Sparkle, and I could discuss the situation with you . . ."

Majesty clearly knew a command when she heard it, even disguised in polite phrases. She hit the floor sharply with her hoof, three even beats. "Meeting ajourned."

Hours later, the royal ponies reemerged. It would be hard to say who was more startled by the their decision . . . myself or the other ponies.

"That's IT?" Sparkler squawked.

"Oh, I say! All they have to do is stay in Dream Castle?"

"That's not fair!"

"They DESTROYED the Rainbow of Light!"

"Yeah, how are we going to protect ourselves now?"

"That green one attacked Majesty! I saw it myself!"

Majesty frowned and beat her hoof for silence, but the chaos continued. Rep and I leaned together as the Guardians surrounding us began physically beating back the crowd.

"A-HEM." The mob turned towards the white pegasus hovering high above the dais and a sudden silence fell.

"That's better." The High Queen drifted to the floor. "I realize that not all of you agree with our decision." The ponies grumbled and shifted. "However, the decision has been made. It is our opinion that Catrina and her associate are no longer significant threats to any citizen of Equinna. The unique circumstances that led to the unfortunate loss of the Rainbow of Light--" She raised her voice as the attending Rainbow ponies began growling. "--have been laid to rest. And if their crimes arose out of indifference and ignorance, what better way to teach them the error of their ways than by confining them to Dream Castle?"

The ponies muttered among themselves. "Yeah, but--"

"Of course, I will be glad to reverse the decision if they show signs of backsliding . . . though I'm sure they won't accomplish much with everyone in the castle watching them."

They mulled that over in silence, nodding thoughtfully. Of course, no one would be able to pull the wool over their eyes . . .

I watched the white pegasus carefully. Too bad I didn't have anything to take notes on.

Then again, if she thought she could rehabilitate me, how smart could she be?

That evening, I brushed my hair, carefully pulling it up before fastening a strand of pearls around my neck. Rep, wearing a top hat and tails, popped his head through the double-doors of my chamber. "Almost ready, Catrina?" he asked.

I turned from the vanity, frowning as I fingered my cats-head ring. "Strange that they would let us attend their ball . . . so soon."

"Well, we will be living here for a long time," Rep said softly. "Maybe they want us to meet the ponies right away."

"Don't get your hopes up, Rep." I slipped a fur-trimmed cloak around my shoulders. "It will be a long time before they forget what we ar--were."

"We'll give it time," he agreed, sweeping open the door. "Come on, Catrina; your public awaits!"

I shook my head as I swept out, but couldn't restrain a smile. The situation was turning out better than I could have dreamed and it was good to see Rep . . . happy. Side by side, we wandered down the vast halls, with a unicorn trailing along behind us. Just for our protection, of course. Majesty had assured us that they would not be needed after a week or two. Fools.

Two great, gilded doors led to the Grand Ballroom, with its sweeping staircases of blue marble leading to a large fountain leaping under the colored lamps strung across the room. I padded down the stairs, drinking it in. Ponies laughed and danced, some swirling away in fancy dress, feathered masks and sweeping capes. Sea ponies reared out of the fountain, spraying nearby dancers with water as they tossed their manes and sang their a strange melody. Two had the striped manes of sea mages, and when they blinked their eyes, streamers of golden light shimmered over the ballroom. Outside, a full moon peered through the glass-paneled doors, accompanied by a canopy of stars. A perfect night. The High Queen and her retinue had remained to celebrate, and a knot of admiring ponies crowded around her as she subtly, politely tried to dodge away. Interesting.

Of course, Rep and I gathered our fair share of attention as well. Ponies whispered to one another, staring and gaping. Some, Guardians perhaps, simply lingered nearby, apparentally in deep discussion with the other partygoers. But if I crossed towards the punch bowl, they just happened to drift away from their conversation and follow. Amusing.

To my surprise, none of the crystal punch bowls actually held punch, though the colorful mixtures they did contain seemed to vary in potency. One unicorn was already dancing on the fountain's slippery edge, singing off key. As I watched, he slipped and fell in. And he still didn't sober up. I shook my head and turned away.

The night wore on, Rep cautiously edged into the crowd, snubbed for his efforts, but persistently hovering at the edge of polite conversation. I, I stood silently, watching. Watching the ponies. Watching the royalty. Watching the watchers.

Watching Wishful too; he had brought his band of bushwoolies, and they bounced and danced as the ponies nudged them. The High Queen herself lowered her head for a look, smiling at their antics. I kept my face smooth, but my fingers tightened around my glass. Doesn't she see they're beneath her?

A weighty thump from the left interrupted my thoughts; I glanced over to find a pony, this one an earthling, passed out across the appetizers. Apparentally ponies believed in celebrations that left streamers tangled across the floor and the more enthusiastic carousers unconscious in the punchbowl. I shook my head again. This was what creatures did with "freedom."

Perhaps because of the increasing number of dormant ponies or perhaps because of the bleak greyness of the eastern sky, Majesty drummed her hooves for silence and began a closing speech. "My friends, as we gather here on the eve of the Summer Solstice--" So that's what they were celebrating. I stopped listening as she rambled on, thanking the ponies, thanking the High Queen, thanking the Rainbow. Weak.

"Quite a party, wasn't it, Catrina?" Rep carefully stepped over a groaning earthling as the last few ponies trickled unsteadily out of the ballroom. A unicorn

"Indeed," I said, making myself smile. It was hard to wear a mask around Rep, but I would learn, I would learn . . .

"Goodnight, Catrina! Sleep well!"

"Sleep well, Rep." I sighed as I grasped the golden door tassel to my new room. Suddenly, something tugged at the bottom of my robe. If that's Wishful . . . But no, I found myself staring down at a knee-high purple dragon clutching an envelope in one hand.

"Excuse me," he said in a strange, young voice, "but I'm supposed to deliver this. Compliments of the High Queen!"

"Oh?" I blinked. "Thank you."

I locked the door to my room, lit the lamp on my desk, and stared at the coat of arms emblazoned on the blue wax. The imprint combined Ponyland's official seal with the High Queen's personal emblem, a teardrop overlaying a crown. A heartfelt plea to stay on the straight and narrow, I guessed wryly, trying to smooth a stubborn lump out of the envelope. So gullible.

I gave up searching for a paperknife after realizing that ponies would have little use for them, instead neatly tearing open the seam of the envelope with a claw. I carefully inserted my claws and drew them up to pull out the letter--then frowned. There was no letter. I peered into the envelope. No papers at all, but there was a lump of something worked into a corner . . . I flipped the envelope over and gave it a firm shake.

Something rolled out. Something small and disc-shaped and red.

I stared down at the cats-head seal, turned it over with a trembling hand. Steamed up and pried off so carefully that I could barely see the knife marks on the back.

I set the seal down in the dead center of the desk. The last letter. The last letter. What had I written? More than enough. "With compliments from the High Queen." Oh shades.

No, don't panic. Think it through. She sent it to me. But she had the letter, the letter to the third, accursed mercenary general. (Damn him! See what his greed had cost me!)

The cat's eyes glared up at me. A warning.

Fair enough. I'll play your little game, live a petty life in this rose-tinted castle. My eyes narrowed. But someday . . . someday . . .

Tonight I sit, turning the seal over and over in my fingers, awash in moonlight. Remembering. Reflecting. It was Wishful who started it all, but I'm past anger. He can't help being what he is.

No more can I.

The thumbprinted wax glistens. They will regret locking me in this domestic prison. Compassion is weakness.

They threw me for a loop, but I can't restrain a grim smile as I slip the seal into my robe.

Cats always land on their feet.