Spellbound Fireflies (3 page)

Scootaloo breathed out a tired, “You got it, Rainbow.”

“Alright then. You did good today, squirt. Keep it up and we’ll have you flyin’ loops in no time. I’ll catch ya Saturday.”

“Alright.” She gave her honorary big sister a tired smile. “Thanks. For helpin’ me.”

She grinned and ruffled Scootaloo’s mane fondly. “Any time, Scoots.” She turned and trotted to the park bench. “Need a lift back to the library?”

“That depends,” Twilight murmured coyly, “Are there any books you need to check out?”

“Need to check out somethin’, anyway. Now hop on, you.” Twilight giggled, slinging her saddlebag around her neck. She nimbly climbed onto Rainbow Dash’s back and the two took off, drifting lazily towards the library. Scootaloo gave them a weary wave as they left and hobbled to her scooter. Strapping on her helmet, she automatically opened her wings to push-start and nearly fell over.

“Ow…” she grimaced. Sighing, she kicked off with her hindlegs and slowly made her way through town. Grinning at the duck-shape in the shingles, Scootaloo leaned her scooter up against the wall and went into the foster house. She trudged over to the couch, collapsed face-first and groaned.

The sound of plates being set down merged with the voice emanating from the kitchen. “That you, Scootaloo?”

“Yes, Mrs. Taker.”

“Don’t forget your chores.”

The filly groaned. “I’m really tired. Rainbow Dash started teaching me to fly today. Can I get up early and do today’s chores before school tomorrow morning?”

Mrs. Taker stuck her head through the doorway, her bob-cut crimson mane framing the thoughtful frown on her straw yellow face. “Your school got the head of the weather team to teach flying? She seems too important for that.”

Scootaloo pushed herself up from the cushion. “No, Rainbow Dash said she wanted to coach me on my own.”

Her frown deepened. “Well, if this is extracurricular, it can’t get in the way of homework or chores. Or do you not want to go to that sleepover tomorrow?”

Sighing, Scootaloo dragged herself back to her hooves and cantered to the cleaning cupboard. “I’ll get my chores done, ma’am.”

“Homework, too.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mrs. Taker returned to the kitchen. Scootaloo pulled the spray bottle and washcloth from the cupboard and slowly marched herself to the windows. She finished wiping the last pane, a small sigh of relief escaping her throat, when the front door opened. Mr. Taker stepped into the living room and set his hat on the coat hanger, running a dusky green hoof through his short-cropped salt and pepper mane.

Scootaloo recited, “Good evening, Mr. Taker,” in a drained voice, slowly trudging back to the cupboard. The stallion nodded once and cantered into the kitchen.

Mrs. Taker poked her head into the living room and said, “Dinner in an hour, Scootaloo. Homework now.” The filly nodded numbly and hoofed up the stairs. The burning pain in her wings and back had subsided to a dull throbbing, which only highlighted the tension and fatigue in the rest of her frame. She sat heavily at her desk and pulled the week’s worksheets front and center, grasping a pencil in her mouth. She blinked sluggishly and fought to focus on the math problems in front of her. She scrawled down two answers she was pretty sure were wrong when Mrs. Taker called her down to dinner.

Scootaloo made her way to the kitchen and took a seat at her small, personal table set in the corner. She ate in silence while Mr. and Mrs. Taker sat at the dining table and talked in low murmurs. The strenuous exercise suppressed Scootaloo’s appetite, but she forced herself to clean her plate; Rainbow Dash had warned her against eating too lightly and sabotaging her work-out. When she finished, she brought her dishes to the sink and washed them quickly, setting them in the drainer when she was finished and plodding from the kitchen. As she left to climb the steps, the Taker’s conversation jumped in volume. Scootaloo didn’t bother trying to listen in anymore; all she ever heard was shallow chit-chat.

Although the sun was barely halfway under the horizon, Scootaloo flopped onto her bed when she got back to her room. Just before her eyelids could drift all the way closed, they snapped open, bleary and bloodshot. “Right…” she grumbled, “Stretches…”

The pegasus pushed and pulled at her uncooperative legs, rocking back and forth on her mattress. With a grunt of effort, she thudded to the floor on her back. She whined wordlessly into her empty room. Rolling over to her stomach, she pushed herself to standing on shaky hooves. “C’mon Scootaloo, just fifty wing-jacks and some stretches. This isn’t too bad…” She opened her wings and felt sharp protests race up her spine in jolts. “Ow…”

She slowly turned her head, tentatively regarding her inviting pillow and imagining the sweet lullabies it would sing to her if she just put an ear to it. Her eyes wavered and she hung her head. “I’m just too tired,” she mumbled to herself, raising a hoof to pull back the blanket.

Dark yellow orbs, set and fierce in a sea of lavender blue, bore into her from her mind’s eye. Her head snapped back up and she firmly planted her hooves on the floor. Scootaloo set her jaw, spread her wings and began to jump. With each jump, spreading her legs out and drawing them back together, she pumped her wings up and down. She counted off to fifty through grit teeth, her violet eyes locked in a death glare with fierce, imaginary yellow ones.

“Alright!” Apple Bloom shouted, pumping her hoof in the air, “I’ve been dyin’ ta do somethin’ like this!” The filly raced up the ramp to the Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhouse, her hooves thundering across the wood.

Sweetie Belle grinned and bounced excitedly next to Scootaloo, keeping pace with the slowly cantering pegasus. “Aren’t you excited, Scoots?”

“Sure am,” she said, “Gotta make up for missing Wednesday.”

“Yeah, Apple Bloom’n I missed having you there. But you’re probably glad you didn’t come; my sister gave us make-overs.”

Scootaloo stuck out her tongue and made a retching noise, her eyes bugging out. “Yeah, maybe it was for the best.” Sweetie Belle giggled lyrically and the her friend grinned. They got to the ramp and Scootaloo sighed as her muscles ached in protest, going up the incline.

“You feelin’ alright, Scoots?”

“Yeah. I just hurt all over after yesterday.” She ruffled her wings and winced. “Rainbow Dash said It’ll get a little easier after I’ve been workin’ for a while.”

“It’s still so cool you’re learning to fly from Rainbow Dash,” the unicorn gushed, hurrying up to the landing. She turned and waited at the top, her eyes shining brightly. “I wish I had a magic coach. Mom and Dad are so busy I never really get a chance to learn anything from ‘em. Rarity’s the same way.” Sweetie huffed, but the smile didn’t leave her face. “Rainbow Dash is the best flyer around; it must be amazing learning from her.”

Scootaloo got to the landing and shook out her legs. The ache in her limbs had taken on a sharper quality throughout the day. When she was still she felt close to normal, but when she moved it was like she was trying to lift Big Macintosh off the ground. “So far all it’s been is painful.” She wrenched her head to the side and groaned in satisfaction as a ripple of pops ran up her neck. “Well, let’s go inside. Apple Bloom’s shaking the whole tree waitin’ for us.”

They joined the excitedly vibrating earth pony inside and sat in a circle, clacking their hooves together and shouting, “Cutie Mark Crusaders Sleepover!” in unison.

Apple Bloom asked, “So whaddya girls wanna do first? We got stuff for s’mores, we could tell ghost stories, play games…”

“It’s not even dark yet,” Scootaloo reasoned, “So let’s wait on the campin’ stuff. Why don’t we play a game?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Wanna go play tag?”

The pegasus’ sore shoulders and hips groaned in protest. “How ‘bout something that doesn’t require moving?” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I dunno how much fun I’m gonna be until I get used to all this exercising.”

Apple Bloom smiled apologetically and put a hoof on the filly’s shoulder. “That’s alright. Flyin’s really important to ya, Scoots; I know I’m not gonna give ya a hard time for workin’ yourself ragged for it.” Sweetie nodded emphatically in agreement. “I got some board games. We could play Basilisks and Ladders?”

Scootaloo smiled warmly at her friends. “You girls are the best.” Apple Bloom bounced to her hooves and hurried over to a shelf. She pulled out several board game boxes and carried them over to her friends on her back. The three fillies ran through the stack, pausing only to light their lantern when it got too dark to read the spaces, talking and laughing the whole time.

Sweetie Belle giggled, exclaiming, “You stung my bumblebee!” pulling the last piece from the board in a gentle glow of magic. “You win, Scootaloo.”

Apple Bloom boxed up the game and cantered over to the table, picking up the lantern in her teeth. She set it down in the center of the group and pulled the lid off. She turned up the flame until it was just licking the top of the lantern and grinned. “Y’all wanna make s’mores now?” At their nods she tossed Scootaloo a bag of marshmallows and hoofed over some sticks.

Scootaloo pulled the bag open and grinned maliciously. “So how ‘bout some ghost stories?”

Sweetie Belle shivered. “I’m still getting over the Olden Pony story. Is there somethin’ else we can do?”

“We could play Truth or Dare,” chimed Apple Bloom, squishing a marshmallow onto the end of her stick. “That’s always fun.”

Sweetie Belle beamed. “Okay!” Scootaloo shrugged and nodded, rotating her marshmallow over the small flame. “Who goes first?”

“Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo shouted, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare!”

“I dare you too…” she cast her eyes around the clubhouse, her face lighting up with a grin when she spotted the broken wheel, all that remained of their ill-fated golden apple float, propped up against the wall. “…Ride that wheel like a unicycle with your forehooves!”

“That’s easy!” the earth pony hopped up and trotted briskly to the wheel. She grabbed onto the axle with her forelegs and kicked off the ground. Long red tail flopped onto the back of her head, Apple Bloom tottered around the clubhouse, zigging and zagging on the wheel. “See, what I tell ya? Piece a caa—!” Apple Bloom’s center of gravity teetered backwards and the wheel shot out from under her. It skidded into the wall and fell to an axle, wobbling like a top, while the filly fell to the floor with a thud. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hid their snickers behind forehooves while Apple Bloom rubbed her sore rump.

“Go ahead an’ laugh, girls,” she muttered. Her friends collapsed onto their backs, cackling madly. Apple Bloom’s frown slowly cracked and she rejoined the circle, laughing with them. Eventually the two sat back up, wiping the mirth from their eyes and grinning. “Alright, ya got me. Sweetie Belle! Truth or Dare!”

The filly rubbed her chin with a hoof, her lower lip pursed out. “Truth, I guess.”

Apple Bloom’s smile became predatory. “Between me an’ Scoots, who do ya like the best?”

Scowling, Sweetie Belle huffed. “That’s so not a fair question. Dare, then.”

Jumping back to her hooves, Apple Bloom grabbed Sweetie Belle by the shoulders and whispered into her ear. Scootaloo watched the unicorn’s eyes shrink to pin pricks. Her face lit up. “What is it?!”

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, but Apple Bloom clamped a hoof over it. “You’ll see Scootaloo. S’mores first!” After they ate their treats, Apple Bloom turned the flame on the lantern down to a low flicker and skipped outside.

Scootaloo followed the other two fillies from the clubhouse, a questioning eyebrow raised as they quietly made their way through the orchards. They entered the farm yard and snuck towards the house, creeping over to a pile of hay. Apple Bloom surreptitiously peeked over their cover. The farmhouse lay dark against the evening sky, a lone beam of amber shining bright from an upstairs window.

“Perfect!” Apple Bloom chimed, her voice pitched in a low stage whisper. “Looks like my big sis is still awake. Alright, Sweetie Belle, go for it!”

The filly swallowed heavily, craning her neck around the hay before slowly crossing the thirty feet of open space between their hiding spot and the front porch.

Scootaloo’s raised brow grew higher. “What’s she—”

“Hush, Scoots. Just you watch an’ see,” Apple Bloom said with a small giggle.

The little unicorn, head low to the ground and tail tucked around her, took quick but tiny steps, closing the gap as quickly but quietly as possible. At the edge of the porch, Scootaloo could see her friend’s chest heave in and out with several deep and steadying breaths. A trembling hoof settled on the step up to the landing and slowly pulled Sweetie Belle onto the porch. With tiny, controlled steps, she made her way soundlessly to the house. She rose onto her hindlegs and grasped the pull-string to the brass bell hanging by the door in her teeth. Scootaloo’s grinning face, stained with mischief, turned towards Apple Bloom. “Ding dong ditch?”

“Yep,” she snickered, “Three times.”

“You’re evil.”

“Why, thank you kindly.”

Sweetie Belle’s chest heaved with a deep breath and she swung her head violently, bringing the bell to riotous life. She dropped the chord from her jaw and sprang off the porch, galloping with abandon across the yard. The jangling continued to roll through the air as she dived head first into the hay pile, wriggling out the other side to join her friends, stray bits of gold caught in her mane.

They peered around the edges of their cover, watching light flood out of the bay window. Applejack’s silhouette was framed in the open doorway. Her Stetson turned side to side as she searched the porch. The fillies heard indistinct muttering as Applejack shut the door. The downstairs window went dark a moment later.

Apple Bloom stifled a giggle behind a hoof. “Alright, now go do it again.”

“Wait a minute!” Sweetie Belle balked, “Let her get all the way upstairs first!” Scootaloo joined the earth filly in clamping hooves over muzzle, playfully poking Sweetie in the ribs. “Knock it off, I’ll go in a minute!” she hissed.