As the sun went down the other villagers returned to their huts to rest for the following day. Feigning illness, Jinx had slept through much of the day in preparation of his departure. He didn’t think anyone would want to follow him, but they might have tried to stop him. As silently as possible he wriggled into the quartet of saddlebags he had filled with supplies: two bottles of clear water; a warm blanket; dried food for several days; a few yards of rope; the obsidian knife he had made with his father; a small, wooden bowl; and the small pendant his sister had given him years before. On top of that, he drew a heavy dark-brown cloak to help distort his silhouette in case anypony spotted him out their window.
Dusk turned to dark and Jinx listened carefully for his chance. There was the low murmur of voices outside his room indicating his father still had his newest “companion” over. He would send her away soon, with one of the few remaining pieces of jewelry that had belonged to Jinx’s mother. Jinx’s nostrils flared in anger as he remembered how father had moved onto the next mare barely a month after she had passed. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Jinx relaxed. He may have moved on quickly, but the past was the past. Jinx didn’t want his last memories of home to be ones of anger; he was leaving to put that anger behind him; to put all of the pain behind him.
The sound from the other room changed. A mare’s voice offered a farewell and a giggle while his father chuckled. It wouldn’t be long now before Jinx could depart. He listened intently for the soft sounds of movement to die away, then slowly peered out of the curtain to his bedroom. The main room was empty, though a small fire was still lit in the center. The beads of the outer partition were swingly slightly, whether from a breeze outside or from the exit of the mare he couldn’t tell. The curtain to his father’s room was closed, and Jinx crept out of his room toward it. At the slight sound of his father’s regular breathing, he relaxed a bit. Gazing around the room, he spotted the last thing he needed before he could leave: a tiny, hoof-bound book. He slipped the book into his bags and turned to go. He pushed through the beads and outside.
The air was chill, but not cold. The new moon was hidden from view, leaving the village dark. Jinx didn’t need the light, not tonight. He felt the familiar earth beneath his hooves and smiled. Turning east, he saw the lighter outline of the well-trod path out of the village. He walked slowly, to avoid unnecessary noise. As he passed the last hut, he felt a sudden urge to stop and look back. After taking a moment to push it down, he continued down the path out into the world beyond.
The land for miles around the village was relatively flat, but there was a small hill just a mile away, and as he reached it, Jinx couldn’t help but turn around to look at his home. In the darkness there was little he could distinguish apart from the lines of paths between the huts. Orange firelight still emanated from a few of them, lending the village a soft, warm glow. There were things Jinx knew he would miss about home, but he knew he couldn’t stay, not at the price the villagers had asked of him. He looked up at the stars to orient himself northward and started walking. He had a long night ahead of him.
Jinx was sweating slightly beneath the heavy cloak as he crested a second hill. Above him, the stars spun their cyclonic dance, marking the passage of time. Before his mother had died, his father had taught him how to read them, how each constellation would spin around a center point over the year and would rotate from horizon to horizon each night. The stars were set in their course, following the path laid out for them since their creation. Was Jinx also following his path, or had he gone astray? No. He couldn’t afford to have doubts, especially not this early in his journey. He could not return now, could not bear the knowledge of his own lack of resolve. He was committed to his decision even as his mind wrestled over whether or not it was right. It didn’t matter anymore; this was what he was doing, wrong or right.
Exile, self-imposed or not, was the only option he had if he wanted to keep his freedom. A sudden gust from the south broke his reverie, carrying with it the scent of burnt wood. The smell reminded him just how close he still was to home. He shook his head, looked up once more to ensure his direction, and started walking again.
The flat grasslands stretched in front of him, reflecting little of the starlight. Jinx walked with a steady pace, conserving his energy so he would be able to continue all night. Even in darkness, he knew the ground around him. Every zebra foal was encouraged to connect with the earth around his home, and Jinx was no exception. He was still within ground he knew as well as he knew his own hooves. That would be the case until he reached the rocky barrens, he knew. Yet even then, he knew what to expect. Past the barrens were the riverlands, as far as any zebra he knew had traveled, with the exception of his sister.
Five years ago, when the search for her had been called off, the elders had told him how her trail had led into a muddy bog where no zebra could possibly have survived. They had told him she must be dead, for if she were not, she surely would have returned. Jinx hadn’t believed it, hadn’t wanted to. Their mother had died only the previous year, and then Zecora had vanished. Jinx had insisted on joining the search, though he had known then as he knew now, that if a zebra left the village and kept going, even if they were followed, they would not be caught up to. No creature could eat up the miles as easily as a zebra determined not to stop, and why would he stop? There was little to break the single mass of the grassland between the river on the east and the savanna on the west. There weren’t even more than a half-dozen zebra villages in the area Jinx knew, though he assumed there were more in other parts of the continent. Perhaps, despite the stories he had been told, there were even zebras to the north. At once he hoped there were and he hoped there weren’t.
Jinx continued through the night, only pausing briefly to drink from one of his water bottles. As the sky began to lighten, he stood at the bottom of a hill he knew marked the end of the grasslands and the beginning of the barrens.Jinx climbed the rise just as the sun broke the horizon to his right. He stood still for a minute, watching the light spread across the grey expanse. There seemed no end to it from this vantage point, though Jinx knew he would be able to cross it over the course of the day. Carefully picking his way down the rocky side of the slope, Jinx entered the wasteland.
Each step Jinx took sent a plume of dust up from the arid soil. Within minutes his legs were coated so thoroughly that the alternating pattern of his fur was masked entirely by the grey earth. The air was quiet. His steps made little sound, being swallowed up by the emptiness. As he walked, Jinx watched for any signs of life even as he was sure nothing could possibly survive in these conditions. The sun cast the entire expanse in a bleached tone. There was no movement apart from Jinx’s, nothing to distinguish one spot from another. Even the air seemed dead. The shifting breezes he had gotten used to on the plains entirely absent in this place.
Looking back, Jinx was surprised at how little of a trail his passage had made. It seemed that the dust kicked up by each step also served to cover it once it settled. He experimented with stepping with deliberate force to leave an impression, but soon realized that doing so would slow his pace considerably and leave him exhausted. By the time the sun reached its zenith, Jinx had walked far enough into the barrens that he could no longer see the hill he had climbed down to enter, but he also still saw no end to greyness. He stopped for a few minutes to rest his legs and drink some water. He took off the heavy cloak and tried to stuff it into his already-filled saddlebags only to settle on folding it and draping it over the top of them. Perhaps after he went through a good portion of his food supply he would be able to stow it properly.
Rising to his hooves once more, Jinx continued in the same direction as before, at least he hoped so. With the sun directly overhead it was impossible to be entirely certain. Jinx shuddered at the thought of becoming lost in the barrens. It was entirely too possible. He had seen no landmarks, and could perceive no end to it in any direction. If he ever did lose his bearings, it would be far too easy to wander endlessly in circles. He picked up his pace slightly, hoping that doing so would let him find the far end of the barrens before nightfall. Jinx didn’t want to have to spend the night in such emptiness, though he knew he would have to rest at the end of the day. He couldn’t continue traveling through another full night.
In the distance ahead of him, Jinx thought he saw the shape of a hill rising above the rest of flat, arid landscape. Just as he realized it wasn’t a trick of his imagination, he noticed that the ground beneath him had begun to slope upwards. The incline was slight, but enough to make it more of an effort to walk at the same speed as before. A sudden, hot breeze came from the hill, carrying an acrid odor Jinx couldn’t place. The air grew several degrees hotter as he approached the hill, and the sharp smell grew stronger. Jinx paused at a point where the slope dramatically steepened. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the top of the hill shimmered with heat, as did numerous small mounds surrounding it.
Even as the sun began to set, there was a faint glow emanating from the top of the rise. The ground around him was relatively flat, and after laying the cloak and blanket down, it was even comfortable. The late-fall chill was warded off by whatever the source of the ambient heat was, but Jinx knew discovering just what was causing the increased temperature could wait until morning. He doubted it would change in any significant way while he slept. He set the saddlebags on one corner of the blanket and curled up to rest.
Despite his exhaustion, Jinx didn’t sleep well. The air’s acrid scent kept his snout twitching in irritation. The heat, which at first had been comfortable, grew to be oppressive as he lay there. So it was just before dawn when he packed his things back into his saddlebags, ready to climb the hill and leave the area.
The dirt of the hill felt different after the change in incline. It was more rocky and granular than dusty. The pebbles had rough edges that cut against his hooves, almost causing Jinx to rethink his plan to climb to the top. It wasn’t quite painful, but he was glad that the rock seemed to only be in the small area around the peak of the hill. He climbed slowly, each step sinking deeply into the gravel. As he approached the top, Jinx was surprised to feel the temperature of not only the air noticeably increasing, but also the temperature of the rocks. There were spots where the heat was so much that he had to go around them. He could see faint traces of smoke coming from the earth in those spots, though he didn’t see any trace of fire.
Upon reaching the peak, Jinx stared in wonder at the sight before him. The hill was sunken in the center, as though somepony had piled up a mound of dirt, then compressed the middle of it. Where there had been traces of smoke coming from spots outside the center, here there were clouds of it. Surprising to Jinx, these clouds didn’t rise out of the hill like smoke he knew, but rested close to the ground. There was a steady current of wind flowing out of the cloud, carrying that hot, dry, and sour air up to him. He stood, staring at the swirling gases as they formed mysterious patterns in the early morning light. Jinx simply stood and watched for several minutes, until he noticed his head beginning to ache. He turned away and was about to begin his descent down the northern slope of the hill when his head suddenly reeled and he lost his balance.
His vision flashed to black as he tumbled down the edge, away from the clouds of gas. Rolling down the slope of sharp gravel, Jinx knew something was wrong. He couldn’t seem to breath properly, his chest burning with need. He tumbled uncontrollably to the point where the ground changed from gravel, back to the powdery dust of the rest of the barrens. Jinx was still for a moment, then began choking and sputtering as the dust settled back over him. The dirt burned as it fell into the cuts his reckless tumble had caused all over his body. Sharp lines of pain pierced through the haze of confusion as he lay on the hard ground, trying to breath properly again. Several minutes later, Jinx felt his head beginning to clear, though it just brought the aches in the rest of his body into focus. Something about the air at the top of the hill had to be poisonous, he realized. He shuddered at the thought that if he had tumbled just slightly in the other direction he would have ended up deep in the clouds of gas, if that was even the bottom of the hill’s center.
As Jinx got to his hooves, he looked up the slope to see if any of his possessions had come loose and scattered across the area. Luckily, only the blanket and cloak he had had just resting across his flank had fallen free. He trotted up a few steps to recover them, and then went back to the area of dusty ground before shaking them clean and laying them back over his bags. He glanced up at the sun to assure himself of his direction and continued north. Jinx mentally chided himself for not taking the opportunity to look for an end to the barrens from the top of the hill. He still had no idea how much further he would have to go, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to spend more than another night in the dead landscape. He was covered head to tail in dirt and dust, and while the cuts he had received falling down the gravel hillside had all been superficial, they were still painful. The dirt and dust had stopped any bleeding, but the wounds stung, and he could feel bruises forming up as well. He briefly considered washing himself off, but realized how foolish it would be to use his water supply for that when he had no idea when he would next be able to fill his bottles up.
He trotted at a slower pace than he had the day before, taking extra breaks to eat and drink. He passed by several more hills like the first, choosing to circle around each instead of risking another climb. It meant he wasn’t following a straight course from the village anymore, but safety far outweighed the potential of minimizing the distance he traveled. He finished his first water bottle on his noon break, holding it high to ensure he had drained every drop, before replacing it in his bags. Far in the distance ahead, he could make out a change in elevation more pronounced than any of the gravel hills. Jinx could only hope that it marked the end of the barrens and the beginning of the riverlands. He walked resolutely forward, prepared to be disappointed, but smiled as the indistinct shape ahead changed to resemble the same rocky slope that had marked his entry into the barrens from the plains.
It was still early afternoon as he climbed up the steep ridge to be greeted by the sight of green. There was life to the earth once again, and where there was life water could not be far behind. Jinx perked his ears as he continued walking, hoping to pick out the sound of running water. The vegetation wasn’t dense, and Jinx could tell that, apart from the few insects he spotted, little lived this close to the barrens. He wasn’t likely to find a large source of water this close to the barrens, but he knew that somewhere up ahead he would find both a good place to rest the night and a river. After all, it couldn’t be called the riverlands for nothing.
The sparse plant life grew more dense as Jinx continued further north. Vibrant green ferns grew in clumps where Jinx assumed water was near enough under the ground to sustain them. In the distance, Jinx could see the indistinct edge of a tree-line. He approached it, walking faster than he had in the barrens, excited at the prospect of walking through the thick of the plantlife after having spent so long seeing nothing else alive. Plants had always fascinated Jinx. Some had power, he knew, when combined with certain shamanistic rituals, but others had a natural effect that any pony could harness with the right knowledge. He smiled as he recognized several of the different species spread across the landscape. None were particularly potent or useful to him at the moment, but he did kneel down to cut a few leaves of lamb’s ear to use whenever he could get a chance to clean his cuts and scrapes before moving onward.
Jinx had always tried to listen in on his sisters lessons, and once his mother had caught him, she began teaching him as well. By the time Zecora had been marked as a full shaman, Jinx had learned almost everything she knew, with the exception of the things his mother had insisted only the shaman and her apprentice should know. Jinx hadn’t resented that, in fact, he had been more than happy to leave the mystical secrets to Zecora. After she had died during her vision quest, however, the tribe’s elders had begun pressuring him into completing the study with another tribe so he could act as the village’s shaman himself. For the last five years he had been able to put off the need. At first he had insisted on staying to act as the tribe’s healer, but when the elders had him train another colt in the use of medicinal herbs so he could leave knowing the village was in good hooves Jinx had known he wouldn’t be able to remain a part of the village without becoming their shaman. He had done his best to ensure the village would not be too much worse-off from his departure, but he knew that he couldn’t have planned for everything. He just had to hope he had indeed left the village in capable hooves with his student.
The tree-line ahead was mostly comprised of large broad-leaved plants that rose at least five yards into the air. The canopy wasn’t closed, but there were only small gaps between the tops of the trees. The trees were packed close enough together that Jinx knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his relatively straight course for any considerable distance once he went inside unless he ran into a river that ran north. Even then, it would likely be much harder to walk along the banks of a river than to just head in as northerly a direction as possible. Assuming there was something past the opposite boundary of the riverlands, his best bet of finding it was in continuing to travel in as straight a path as possible. Jinx felt his ears abruptly twitch. Focusing on his sense of hearing, he could clearly hear the sound of running water coming from directly ahead. He pressed forward, pushing aside low-hanging branches and stepping over the ferns and grasses that layered the shady ground. He pushed aside a final branch and nearly fell into the stream that was several inches lower than the surrounding foliage. He eyed the bottom of the stream cautiously. It looked perhaps a few inches deep in most places, and it wasn’t flowing particularly quickly, so Jinx jumped into it.
The water was cool and refreshing. Jinx could feel the weight of caked dust falling off of his limbs as it dissolved in the water. He had judged the depth accurately enough so his possessions were still dry apart from the small amount of water that had splashed up from his impact. The smooth stones of the stream-bed didn’t feel slippery, but Jinx was careful as he crossed to the far bank, where the ground was flatter next to the water. He stepped out of the stream to set his things down, and then returned to wash off the rest of the dirt and dust that had accumulated in his coat.
After cleaning himself as best as he could, Jinx returned to his bags to press the lamb’s ear he had gathered earlier to any scratches that hurt noticeably more than others. He lay in the shade on the side of the stream drying off and relaxing. When he noticed the sky through the holes in the canopy being to grow dark, he started looking for a suitable place to spend the night. He searched for a few minutes before he returned to the side of the stream. While the ground here wasn’t particularly comfortable-looking, at least it was level. Jinx made himself comfortable on top of his heavy blanket and covered himself with the cloak. Appreciative of how much better he felt with all the dust from the barrens washed off of him, Jinx comfortably drifted off to sleep.
Jinx eased slowly to wakefulness. He yawned and stretched, working some of the stiffness out of his limbs. It had been a very quiet night, which surprised Jinx. He had expected the area to be teeming with insects and other fauna, but he hadn’t heard so much as a night bird. It was mildly disturbing, but Jinx couldn’t place why. He looked up at the sky to try and judge the time, but the canopy, while not closed, blocked more than enough of the sky so Jinx couldn’t figure out where the sun was. It seemed to be full daylight at least, and the sun wasn’t directly overhead yet, so Jinx assumed it couldn’t be more than late morning.
He ate a quick breakfast out of some local flowers and greens. While palatable, he decided to stick with his supplies for any further meals in the riverlands unless things started to look dire. He had no way of knowing how far north the area extended, or if whatever was at the other end would be as bad as the barrens, but he would only find out one way. After refilling his water from the stream, he drank his fill of the cool water and continued north. As he pushed through the foliage, Jinx realized that he still felt tired; his trip through the barrens must’ve been more exhausting than he thought. He decided that he would stop earlier this evening than he had last night.
Jinx continued until he realized the sky was getting dark. He didn’t think he had lost track of time while he was awake, but he only judged it had been a few hours. How could I have lost so much time? I never even ate lunch. Something about that seriously bothered him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment. He had passed a few more streams during the day, but didn’t want to spend the night among the dense part of the plant life. He resigned himself to pressing on until he found a clearing, or at least a relatively open area he could spend the night in. When he tripped over a fallen tree he hadn’t seen right in front of him, he realized it was far too dark to keep looking for an ideal spot. Granted, the tree had been covered in a thick layer of moss the same color as the rest of the plants he was walking over, but if he was tripping over trees he didn’t want to press his luck and end up hurting himself.
In frustration, Jinx kicked the fallen tree. He was rewarded with a large strip of bark that flew out from the impact. Jinx paused at that; he ran a hoof along the rest of the tree, feeling the dry, yet oily bark. He could do something with that. A few minutes of work produced a trio of usable torches. Each likely wouldn’t last long, but if he could light one, he would be able to continue onward hopefully long enough to find a suitable resting place. He tucked two of the torches into the top of his saddlebags, and stuck the third hard into the ground in front of him so it stood upright. After striking his flint several times, a spot on the torch began to burn. Jinx waited patiently as the fire spread, and he tucked his knife and flint back into his bags. He knelt down, took the torch firmly in his jaws, and then straightened back up. The surrounding area was cast in a weak orange glow. Jinx noticed something different about the foliage from how it had looked before the sun went down. Small pods of fungus were growing everywhere. Each grey-brown mushroom appeared to be swelling rapidly, but they shrunk momentarily whenever Jinx tried to bring the torch close enough to examine them. They must only grow in the darkness, Jinx surmised. A quiet, almost imperceptible puffing noise drew his attention behind him, and his eyes widened as a small cloud of dark-purple spores shot out of a mushroom that had grown to the size of his hoof. Immediately after expelling the cloud, the fungus started to shrivel and disintegrate. Jinx stepped backward from the spores, starting to grow worried. Off to his left, another mushroom burst, sending a near-silent cloud right at his face. Jinx inhaled reflexively and immediately wished he hadn’t. A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, almost causing him to drop the torch. The spores must have a soporific effect! Jinx suddenly realized that he hadn’t lost track of time during the day; he had lost track of time during the previous night. He knew he had to get out of there, and fast.
Jinx breathed heavily through the torch in his mouth as he ran. He could feel the energy in his body being sapped with each passing moment. It was no longer a wonder that he hadn’t heard any wildlife in the riverlands; he doubted anything that did come in deep enough to be affected by the spores ever came back out. As he ran through the trees, Jinx could see mushrooms in his peripheral vision swell, puff out a cloud of spores, and disintegrate. He could only hope he didn’t run right into any more clouds, or he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stay awake; fear could only stimulate him for so long.
Jinx noticed small bits of the burning bark beginning to fall from the torch and skidded to a stop. It would be better to stop running for a moment than to try running in darkness. Swiftly stabbing the lit torch into the ground, he knelt down to pull a second one out of his bags. The second torch lit immediately upon contact with the first, and Jinx gave a weak smile. He knocked the first torch over into the dirt, stomping hard on the embers to ensure he wouldn’t start a dangerous fire. Even as he started to continue his flight, he found himself staring right at an immense fungus mere inches away from his face.
Instinctively, Jinx swung the torch in his mouth at the pod, causing it to wither in the direct light. He sighed heavily in relief, and pushed past the shriveled lump. As the night deepened it seemed like the fungi were able to grow larger than the hoof-sized stalks he had first noticed. Whether that meant he was only running deeper into heart of the infestation or if it was just a result of the night, Jinx couldn’t tell, but his only choice was to keep running and hope for the best.
He was utterly exhausted when he reached a clearing. The ground in a large circle was completely devoid of plant life and—Jinx was relieved to see—fungi. He looked around warily. Something like this couldn’t have happened naturally; somepony had to have created it. There were marks on the surrounding trees where branches had been cut away, and the ground had evidence of recent digging to uproot the undergrowth. In the center of the area was a small circle of stones and the charred remains of a small campfire. Whoever had done this must’ve been planning to stay for a considerable amount of time given how much effort clearing this large of an area must have taken, but it was equally clear that they weren’t here now.
Jinx settled himself near the fire pit and eyed the edges of the clearing, looking for any clouds of spores. They didn’t seem to spread very far individually, so it seemed that for the moment, he was safe. And if the clearing was any indication, its previous inhabitants had been protecting themselves from the spores here as well. Lethargically, he pulled his cloak and blanket off his hindquarters and lay down to sleep. In the morning, he could look more closely at the campsite, and possibly even determine which way whoever had created it had gone.
Jinx opened his eyes in the sunlight. He raised his head from the ground to look up at the sun shining from directly above—it was noon. He looked at the surrounding campsite. Just as there had been no evidence of the fungus the first time Jinx had woken up in the riverlands, there was nothing here either. He ate a quick meal of his dried supplies—there was no way he was going to eat any more plants that had been covered in spores overnight. Jinx paced around the cleared space looking for evidence of where whoever had made it had gone and come from. There were two sets of tracks leading into the space from one direction, but three sets coming out the opposite end. Jinx had no clue what that could mean.
Jinx had three useful choices. He could head due north and try to get out of the riverlands before night, he could try to trace back along the trail in whatever direction the two sets of tracks came from, or he could follow the three sets. Presumably, whoever had made this clearing had forged a safe path into the riverlands from wherever they were from, so Jinx should be able to work backwards using their trail to find more old campsites. But there were no guarantees that older sites were still protected enough from the fungi. If he followed their trail he should be able to reach newer sites and possibly even catch up to them. Deciding to follow the outgoing trail, even if it was leading southwest, Jinx packed his bags and set out.
The trail was not only easy to follow, but easy to walk. The zebras who had made it weren’t just traveling as Jinx had; they were blazing a trail. The strangest thing about the trail was that at least half the time, one of the sets of hoofprints disappeared. Sometimes there would be two sets again, but the third didn’t walk out of the trail, the prints just vanished only to reappear briefly further down the path before vanishing again just as suddenly. Jinx paused to study one point where the tracks rejoined the others and noticed how the first set of impressions was noticeably deeper than the rest, as though the zebra had jumped; but that didn’t make any sense: it wasn’t possible for zebras to fly.
Just as the sun began to set, Jinx reached another clearing, this time situated next to a brook. The trail continued on the opposite end of the water, but Jinx resolved to wait the night in this one. Hopefully not getting a face-full of spores would allow him to rise in the morning tomorrow and he would be able to cover more ground. He settled himself in the center of the circle and fell asleep.
It was sunrise when Jinx woke this time, and that made him smile. He couldn’t say why, but he had a feeling that today would be a good day. He ate quickly and drank his fill of the brook’s water before wading through the shallow water. His steps light, Jinx managed a quick pace until after noon, when he paused for lunch. He was surprised that he hadn’t run into another clearing at this point, but as long as he found one before dark he wasn’t too worried. It wasn’t as if they would have suddenly stopped needing them after the last one.
Jinx continued forward at a trot. The tracks were easy enough to follow, and Jinx could afford to move quickly without risk of losing the trail. The path kept a steady southwest line until without warning, it turned due west. At the point where it turned, the third set of tracks reappeared again and this time remained with the other two. Jinx could see nothing in the immediate area that could indicate a reason for the shift.
Jinx still hadn’t found a new clearing when the sun began to set. He couldn’t understand it; he knew he hadn’t missed any turn-offs, but it didn’t seem possible that zebras forcing a path through the trees and undergrowth could have not needed to stop for the night by now. He backtracked a few paces, and, sure enough, all three sets of tracks were clearly visible, side by side. It simply didn’t make any sense. There had been spots along the path where it had been clear that they had stopped for a period of time, but nothing like the clearings before. Jinx snorted in frustration: there was nothing else to do but press forward until he could find a campsite. He certainly wasn’t going to risk sleeping in the thick of plants which would undoubtedly be covered in spores within minutes.
When the sun’s glow was fully extinguished, Jinx was running at as close to a full gallop as he could manage, his last torch gripped tightly in his mouth so he could see far enough ahead to ensure he was still following the tracks. He thought he saw the shadow of spores to his left, and he ran all the harder, nearly tripping over a large fern that he didn’t have time to swerve away from. Far ahead of him, the trail opened up to a clear expanse and Jinx almost cheered in relief. He slowed to a trot and took his first step into the open area when he noticed how the ground was different here. His hoof caught in the ground and he tripped. Just before his face hit the ground, he spat the torch out to the side.
Instead of the hard impact Jinx expected, his face splashed into a thick muck and stuck. He pushed his muzzle free only to feel his front legs slip deeper into the mud. Quicksand! Jinx realized. This wasn’t an artificial clearing. The torch had landed slightly clear of the quicksand and was still burning. There was a slight glare of reflection at the edge of the patch of quicksand marking It took an effort of will, but Jinx resisted the urge to shake the mud clear of his face; that would only make him sink more. As still as he was, he could feel himself slowly sinking. Normally this wouldn’t worry him much; quicksand was annoying, but hardly dangerous on its own, but there was still the problem of the spores. He didn’t see any at the moment, but he had no doubt that if he stayed put for too long he would.
He spread his hind legs as best as he could, spreading out his weight before trying to start wiggling one of his forelegs free. He couldn’t stop himself from constantly checking over his shoulder at the edge of the pool to see if any mushrooms had started growing. Of course, the extra motion made it more difficult to get his leg free up to the knee so he could start working on his other foreleg. He had just gotten his last leg free enough to allow movement when a fly bit him hard on the rump, causing him to flinch. His whole body twitched from the unexpected pinch, and he slipped just enough on his balance that all the work on his final limb was undone. Cursing the stupid fly, he began to pull the leg free again. He pulled the limb out of the mud and inched his way back toward the edge of the pool he had thrown the torch to. In the minutes it had taken for him to get himself free of the quicksand it had gone out, but there was enough moonlight shining into the clearing that Jinx could see where the path he had been following curved around the quicksand on the edge and continued on the opposite side. He sighed, and turned to start following the track again when he heard the sound of voices.
“I’m telling you, Windshear, I heard something, and we’re going to check it out.”
Coral Vellum sighed. “I’m telling you Windshear, I heard something, and we’re going to check it out.”
Windshear always seemed to take perverse pleasure in belittling her.“Well, Coral, I didn’t hear anything, and you know Rugged’s just humoring you.” He laughed. “I’ll bet half my bits that there’s nothing out here but us and your imagination.”
Coral snorted. If she hadn’t insisted on looking herself, she knew Windshear would have just flown around the campsite for a few minutes before pretending to have searched and found nothing. He was lazy and arrogant, but all too necessary a companion for the expedition. Still, he might be right about this. There hadn’t been anything dangerous in the area except for the mushroom spores, and that hadn’t been so much dangerous as annoying. Ahead of her, Coral could see the reflection of her light spell on the quicksand pool they had passed around earlier in the day. “Fine then, we can go back in a minute; I don’t see anything...” Her voice trailed off as she saw a figure on the opposite end of the pool. She could tell it was equine, but there was something wrong about its hindquarters. She opened her mouth slightly in surprise and was about to tell Windshear to look when it spoke.
“What are you?”
* * *
Jinx’s eyes widened in surprise. Across the pool of quicksand were a pair of equine far different from any he had seen before. One, a pale blue stallion, had wings on his sides, and the other, a pink-colored mare, had a glowing horn atop her head. They seemed surprised to see him, but more surprised than confused. The blue one took to the air and flew over the quicksand to hover a few yards away from Jinx. Tilting his head to the side, he said, “What do you mean? We’re ponies, and you’re a zebra. Did you hit your head or something?”
“Windshear!” the pink mare chided, “it’s more than likely that any zebra this far south haven’t seen different types of ponies in centuries! This is incredible.” She raced along the side of the pool and said, “Wait just there; it’s absurd to talk to each other from across the quicksand.”
Jinx frowned. “But what about the spores—”
“Spores?! They only grow in the eastern half of the forest. Didn’t you know that?” The blue pony eased himself to the ground next to Jinx and extended a hoof. “Name’s Windshear. Have you really never seen pegasi or unicorns?”
Jinx eyed the hoof suspiciously. What did the “pegasi” expect him to do with it? However, it seemed that introductions were in order, so Jinx inclined his head in a slight nod. “My name is Jinx, of the northern plains tribe.” When he looked up, the hoof was still extended. Windshear awkwardly lowered the hoof, frowned slightly, and shrugged. Wings seemed to allow for more expressive body language as well as flight.
Slightly out of breath, the unicorn skidded to a halt on the other side of him. “Coral Vellum, but you can just call me Coral; everyone does.” She beamed at him. “Really though, this is just fascinating. This means the pre-Equestrian era records were accurate! Do you know what this means?”
Jinx was completely baffled. What was she talking about?
Windshear groaned. “It means you’re going to give us all a history lesson and talk all our ears off. Can’t that at least wait until we get back to camp?” He gestured back the way they had come. “It’s just on the other side of the quicksand here, not more than a hundred yards or so, but a little ways off the path.”
Jinx was still slightly nonplussed, but as Windshear turned to go, he fell into step behind him, with Coral on his side. Jinx asked, “Why aren’t you camped in line with the trail anymore?”
Coral answered, “Well, once we were clear of the fungus-filled part of the woods, it made little sense—let alone irresponsibly destructive—to create an artificial clearing for us to sleep in when Windshear could easily find a natural one not far from our path just by flying up for a few minutes.”
Windshear looked back at them. “Well, it’s not that simple, but it beats hauling any plants we can’t use for fuel or food out of the area.”
Coral continued, “It’s much easier on the horn too. Magic is wonderful, but it can’t do everything.”
Jinx tried to take all of this information in, but it was still a lot. “I know about some magic, but nothing I know of could be used to create this path, or the clearings before.”
Coral said, “It’s a combination of telekinesis and teleportation that I developed as my graduate project at the School for Gifted Unicorns. I just grip the objects and send them Outside.”
Jinx frowned. “But we’re already outside.”
Coral excitedly began explaining, picking up speed as she went: “Everything we can see is inside space as we know it: you, me, the trees, the air, the water. But when somepony teleports, they go Outside for a fraction of a second before they come back Inside somewhere else. It’s like—”
Windshear coughed loudly, and looked over his shoulders to roll his eyes at them. “Don’t try to think about it too hard. No one but her really understands it, and unless you’ve got an invisible horn on your head it doesn’t even matter.”
Jinx had thought he understood how magic worked from the shamanistic studies, but he had only understood a fraction of what Coral had been talking about. Of course, it was obvious she had magic he didn’t simply by looking at the light shining from her horn. Light without fire would certainly be a useful thing to learn, and he would have to see if it was something he could do later. At least he now knew that he wouldn’t be trapped in a spore-induced sleep anymore, and these ponies seemed friendly enough.
As they reached the end of the trail, Windshear turned off to the right, and Jinx could see the glow of a campfire from between the trees. Coral said, “Oh right, you need to meet Rugged. He’s in charge of the expedition, and I’m sure he’d love to learn about where you’re from as much as I will.”
As they walked into the small clearing, Jinx took in the campsite. There were three small dark green tents erected equidistantly around the small campfire. A pile of cooking supplies off to one side of the fire glinted in the firelight, and Jinx could smell the remains of a stew. Jinx saw a brown pony with a grey mane rising to his hooves at their approach. “Who needs to meet me, Coral?”
Coral gestured at Jinx and let her light spell go out. “This is Jinx. He’s from around here.”
Jinx cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly say that. I’ve been traveling for several days already.”
Rugged’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he walked away from the fire to meet them. “S’far as I know, zebras don’t often leave their tribes, though maybe I’m wrong. As Coral just said, th’ name’s Rugged Terrain; I’m in charge of our little expedition here. You’re more than welcome to share the fire tonight, and we’re planning on sticking around for another day or so here if you’re in no hurry to move on.”
Jinx nodded. “I appreciate the hospitality. I’ve actually been following your trail for the past few days, wondering if I’d catch up with you.”
Windshear raised his eyebrows at that. “Following us? What for?”
Jinx said, “I wanted to avoid spending the night getting poisoned by mushroom spores, but as Coral mentioned earlier, that doesn’t seem to be a threat anymore.”
Rugged let out a huff of annoyance. “I wouldn’t have called them a threat so much as a nuisance. Unless you mean to say that you entered the forest without even knowing about the spores?”
Coral whistled. “You’re lucky to have made it out of there alive then. There aren’t any animals within miles of the spores; that’s why I was so insistent about checking out the noise earlier. I knew it had to be something out of the ordinary.”
Windshear groaned. “Great! Now Coral’s going to think every single idea she gets will be important.”
Rugged settled back down in his previous spot by the fire and motioned for the others to join him. Coral eased herself down by Rugged’s left, Windshear flew to the opposite side of the fire, and Jinx moved to lay beside Coral. Coral replied, “Well even if it does, I somehow doubt that you need to worry about my ego growing large enough to eclipse yours.”
It was obvious to Jinx that this kind of banter was a common occurrence between the two and that both seemed friendly enough despite their differences. Jinx turned to look at Rugged Terrain. As the closest member of the group to what he was used to, Jinx decided to ask him about the others. “Rugged Terrain, this may seem to you to be a silly question, but I’ve never seen anypony like any of you before. I’ve known zebras all my life, and you certainly seem familiar with my kind, but what exactly are you, and where do you all come from?”
Rugged Terrain glanced at Coral before answering. “Well, the simplest way to explain it is that we’re all just different kinds of ponies, like you. Windshear’s a pegasus, Coral’s a unicorn, and I’m an earth pony.”
Coral broke in, saying, “We’re all from Equestria, which is far to the north, on the other side of the mountains. There are all kinds of ponies in Equestria, including a—very—small number of zebra.”
Jinx asked, “If you’re from so far away, why are you here?”
Rugged offered a slight grin. “We’re explorers. The Princess commissioned us to create an official map of the area on this side of the mountain range. I’ve been beyond the Equestrian borders before, so I was asked to take our map-maker and historian here”—he waved at Coral—”and this hawk-eyed bird-brain out as far as I know any pony has gone, so we can all add a sizable chunk to the known territory.”
Windshear twitched. “‘Bird-brain?’ I’ll have you know I graduated from the Eyrie with honors.”
Coral snorted. “Yes. One of the only schools with avian faculty: birds.”
