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New Way Home (19)
🕑 Added 2025-06-06 16:00:07 +0000 UTCThomas was in their makeshift library when the sound of many voices broke his fragile concentration. It wasn't a difficult task to get him to put the magic aside: Thomas hadn't ever been an academic—or able to concentrate on tasks requiring focus without his prescription.
That was one thing he didn't think he'd be asking for from Equestria, no matter how long they were trapped here.
It meant any interruption could distract him, including this one. The doors banged open again and again, and many hooves clopped against the granite floor. Even all the way down the hall, the sound was still enough to make him sit up, snapping the book closed in front of him.
It wasn't his hooves that moved it. Between his experiences in the mine and some time to study what the experts had to say, Thomas had already learned enough to apply the basics of magic.
Not enough that he was effortlessly levitating things around, using the invisible hands that all the native unicorns seemed to have. But he could push things now, and hold them sometimes. How much more could unicorn magic achieve?
He wouldn't find out right then, because he backed away from his seat and slipped out of the “library” door into the hall to watch.
He wasn't the only one—Shauna was already there, lingering near the door to the ballroom across the hall. That was their new storage room, along with a “shop” of sorts, where the trapped ponies went to get things from the donations and earnings of ponies who worked.
Shauna touched her hoof to her lips, then stepped subtly back into the doorway, her ears still pointing in the other direction. Right, because their animal senses were good enough to hear like that.
They had been talking for a little while already, though those words hadn't stuck in his mind. Same problem as staying focused on magical books, really. Yet now that his attention was on it, he heard clearly. He recognized that voice from anywhere, Marked Pattern.
"You can't possibly expect my group to share accommodations with them. Frankly, those creatures shouldn't be anywhere near good Equestrian ponies. They're as much a danger to all the ponies of Salt Lick as they will be to my group. But if you must shove them somewhere, let it be a place these ponies and I will not be threatened."
"They probably hate us now," said someone else. Another of the native ponies, Thomas didn't know exactly who. One of the cowards who hadn't been willing to fight for their freedom but was happy to turn around and get his friends banished to walk down the mountain in the cold. "They will be violent at the first opportunity."
"Are you sure we're talking about the same creatures?" That was Tout Suite, his voice the usual artificial, performative friendliness he always showed. But for once, Thomas wanted to thank him for it. "I've been housing the refugees for over a week now, and I've not seen violence a single time. Few broken plates, because they're clumsy as foals. One earth pony broke the faucet on his shower, but I'm fairly sure that was an accident. Didn't know his own strength. Canterlot is covering the bill, so don't worry about your friends getting docked for it."
"Bill," Pattern repeated, voice cold. "You misunderstand the gravity of the situation. I thought our telegram was clear. These creatures are not true ponies, no matter how they look. They are adept at camouflage, as insidious as any changeling swarm. Yet the risk they pose is far greater."
"We know they were something else before," Sharp Command said. His voice was exasperated, as though he had been through the motions of this entire conversation already on the way over. "They've told us, many times. They're desperate to get home, get their old bodies back. They aren't hiding."
"They're killers," said that same other voice. Thomas thought it was a pegasus from the pitch, though he might be wrong. He was still trying to understand the dimorphism of the three tribes, and spending half his day in a library surrounded by unicorns was not helping. "Actual killers. They fought, and diamond dogs died. They started the violence."
"And they could kill again," Pattern added. "Anypony in Salt Lick is a potential victim."
Thomas could sit still through a great deal. He had managed to make it through AP testing, he could even endure long church meetings whenever Grandma was in town and insisted the whole family go with her. But this was too far.
It didn't matter if Shauna started glaring at him as soon as he moved. He ignored her, striding purposefully around the corner and directly into view. "We didn't start the violence," he called, loud enough that every pony in the lobby would hear. It had the desired effect: gasps, and even a muffled scream.
The crowd of ponies retreated from him.
More importantly, it meant they shut up and stopped lying about them. "We were enslaved by the diamond dogs," Thomas continued. "Along with you. That wasn't some polite disagreement. We didn't have an argument over what to eat. They worked people to death. Remember Seaside? When he broke his leg, and it didn't look like he was going to get better, they starved him. When Aster got pregnant, they beat her until she miscarried."
He reached the lobby, glaring down Marked Pattern with all the indignation a stupid horse body could hold.
But he didn't even really care if any of these assholes believed. They'd already shown what kind of people they were when they convinced the town to banish them all to the mountain without a guide, maybe to die in the wilderness somewhere. "Guardspony Sharp Command, these ponies are lying to you if they say we're a threat. We did not harm ponies. We fought for our freedom. I'm sure you would've done the same. They want to get rid of us because we remind them that they're cowards who could've fought their way to freedom and saved the lives of every suffering pony the dogs killed. Our only danger to these ponies is a reminder of their guilt."
That silenced them for a moment, but not as long as Thomas would've liked. But if he got his way, they would never talk around him again. It was just going to be lies anyway.
"They admit to it," Pattern said, gesturing at Thomas. "No, we can't say which of them has killed and which didn't. They fought together, coordinating to violence and deliberately slaying our captors. They killed so many that the dogs fled. I wouldn't be surprised if they razed their home as well, and all the innocents within."
"We did no such thing," said another voice. Shauna appeared beside Thomas, standing just as confident as he was. Maybe even more—she was their leader after all, and the one who had led their military efforts in escape. "We didn't pursue fleeing dogs, though it would've been strategically wise to do so. We left their camp and the dogs it contained, even though many of them were probably guilty of horrific crimes too. We fought for our freedom and we won, that's all."
She looked to the soldier, raising one wing before her in something like a salute. "Sharp Command, you know I've been forthright with you since our arrival. I have never misrepresented my group, or peaceful intentions to return home. We will not hurt Salt Lick, or these ponies."
"But I agree with Marked Pattern on one thing," Thomas added, interrupting.
"We would be happier not sharing space with them too. Those ponies are complicit in banishing us from Motherlode when we were injured, hungry, and vulnerable. We saved their lives, and they repaid us with mistreatment. The further apart we are, the happier we'll be."
Sharp stepped between them, looking nervously from Marked Pattern, then over to Shauna. "I wish we could... make you both happy, I do. But we only have one hotel. Besides, these new ponies won't be staying for very long. We're already working out the train schedule to get everypony back to their homes. None of them are going to be in Salt Lick more than a month."
He turned back to Tout Suite. "Can you put them on a different floor? There must be a way to arrange that these ponies don't have to spend much time together."
"Yes, well..." He shuffled nervously through the ledger behind his desk, making a few marks there. "Rooms are no problem, we have that. But we only have the one kitchen, and two already overworked staff to do all the cooking. It's extremely rare for my establishment to have consistent occupancy this high, let alone to have ponies who spend every meal inside. Most who travel out here are seeing the sights, and might attend one meal in a day."
"You will find a way to make it work," Sharp said. Then he turned, marching directly over to Shauna and stopping in front of her. "And you. You better be telling the truth about your ponies not being a threat. Because if I find out anything happened to one of these, it's going to be bucking awful for your case with Canterlot. You are not going to put me in that position."
"I'm not," Shauna said, confidently. "I will make sure of it."
"She'll fail," Pattern muttered. Maybe he was trying to make it seem like he was just talking to the ponies around him. But he spoke so loud, he might as well be shouting across the room at them. "These are humans. They can't help being murderous and violent. Anypony who read about them would know that."
It did take considerable self-control from Thomas to stay nonviolent in the face of talk like that. But Marked Pattern was an old creature, shriveled and weak. It was a small miracle he had endured as long as he had through the diamond dogs' awful treatment. If the pony saying all those awful things had been his own age, and healthy enough to take a punch, Thomas would've gladly provided a demonstration of human violence.
But he wasn't, so he could only storm off, while Shauna remained in the lobby to watch. The ponies obviously wanted her gone, but that stubborn mare just stood there anyway, watching and listening to every word.
She would have to do it alone, or Thomas would probably do something to make things much worse for every human waiting for their trip back.
He returned to the “store” ballroom, which they'd now turned into a sort of common room and public square for all the refugees trapped here. Lin was waiting for him by the door, in energetic conversation with Ethan about something. Probably flight related, judging by how often they were outside.
Maybe next practice, he would be bold enough to talk to Lin about the other important things. He could've done it tonight in their room, but Thomas was too honest with himself. He knew he wouldn't try.
"What's happening?" asked Adrien, stopping him in the doorway. "Sounded intense."
"Some old friends," Lin said, approaching Thomas along with many others. "Finally made it down from Motherlode."
"Yeah," he said, looking away from her. "They're going to be living here with us."
