Invoking the old Forced Relocation laws had been Sweetberry's suggestion, and though
Sunsparkle shrewdly suspected it had been offered more to stop
her from bothering Sweetberry with any more questions rather than out of a desire to help, the
young queen didn't
care, as long as it got results.
In centuries past, before the Princesses had risen to unify the land, the city-states had wielded considerably more power. If they told their citizens to jump, they expected a response of "How high?" Amongst other considerable powers was the right to demand that ponies, as individuals or groups, relocate. This had been especially common among clusters of allied city-states. If one of them needed more healers, another would provide them. Or if more pegasi were required for reconnaissance, a ruler could ask another friendly monarch to send some over.
Of course, it had been ages since forced relocation had been common. Sunsparkle didn't think it had been used in millennia, at least. But according to Sweetberry's research, the law was still on the books and it didn't seem to conflict with any of the edicts of the High Queen and Royal Council, instead falling solely to the discretion of the lesser royalty of the individual fiefs. They could send ponies over, if they so chose.
They had chosen not to.
Sunsparkle was not wholly surprised; even at the outset, she had recognized the plan as one of desperation. But she would not accept defeat. She would find with Sweetberry and grill her for more ideas.
Assuming she could find Sweetberry.
"She's around here somewhere," Rainbow Dash said, waving a hoof vaguely to indicate the immediate area.
"Could you be more specific?" Sunsparkle asked without much hope.
"Well--" Dash began.
"Maybe she fell down the well," Sunny Daze giggled, rearing up to hook her front hooves over the lip of the well. "HELLOOOOOOO DOWN THERE!!" She paused, cocking her head, and a minute frown creased her forehead when she didn't hear an echo. "That's funny . . ."
"But she was in the garden?" Sunsparkle persisted.
"Oh yes," Rainbow Dash nodded brightly. "She said hello--well, actually I said hello . . . and then I said hello again . . . and then--"
"Ohhhh, look!" Sunny Daze interrupted, pointing a hoof. Sunsparkle turned to see what she was looking at and saw a large black bird cawing loudly as it flapped hastily over the garden, twisting its black wings to avoid the furious pecks of the screeching songbirds diving at it as they angrily pursued.
"That's a crow," Dash said.
"I know it's a crow, silly!"
"Getting back to Sweetberry . . ." Sunsparkle said, trying to steer the conversation back on course.
"Oh . . . oh, right. She went off to pick berries. Around here. Somewhere." Rainbow Dash looked around, as though expecting the mulberry pony to suddenly pop out of the bushes.
"Did you see her at the same time, Sunny?"
"Oh, I didn't see her at all," Sunny Daze explained. "I'm looking for her, because I wanted to show her--Oh! Look, there he is again!"
Sure enough, a sleek black crow swooped low through the garden, lazily landing with a flourish on a nearby branch.
"It's not the same crow," Rainbow Dash said. Upon seeing the confusion on the faces of the other ponies, he explained further. "One crow flies around and makes a lot of noise so the little birds chase it, and then another crow follows and eats all their eggs while they're unguarded. That's what crows do."
"Oh! That's mean!" Sunny Daze said indignantly.
Rainbow Dash looked somewhat mystified by this reaction. "It's what crows do," he repeated in confusion.
"I suppose it is," Sunsparkle murmured, regarding the bird. It tilted its head, regarding them with unsettlingly intelligent black eyes as it gripped the gently swaying branch. The young monarch followed its gaze and found herself looking at something small and inauspicious on the ground by Sunny's hooves. "What's that?"
"Isn't it neat?" the white pony asked, rolling it around under her hoof. "I found it! I was playing with Sparkleworks in the marsh--"
(Inwardly Sunsparkle groaned, foreseeing yet another screaming match between Sparkleworks and Wysteria.)
"--and it's all carved and things and it looks REALLY old and I thought to myself, 'Now who do I know who's really old?'--"
Sweetberry is going to kill her, the magenta pony thought.
"--and of course BERRY is!"
And if she calls her 'Berry' to her face, she'll maim her first. She leaned closer, if only to get a better look at the object that might well be the indirect cause of Sunny Daze's demise.
"Isn't it FANTASTIC?" the white pony giggled. "What do YOU think it is, Sunsparkle?"
"It's a rock."
"But look at all the carvings!"
"It's a carved rock," Sunsparkle said, unknowingly repeating Sparkleworks' assessment. "Well, I'm going to keep looking for Sweetberry."
"I'll go with you; I want to find her too!" Sunny Daze announced, pausing to pick up the stone and store it in one cheek again, making her resemble a lopsided chipmunk. Sunsparkle looked somewhat dubious about the company, but she didn't protest. Neither of them, as they trotted off, thought to say goodbye to Rainbow Dash.
He didn't mind, or even notice the lack. He was sitting quietly, thinking. He was not wise like Kimono or witty like Sparkleworks or learned like Sweetberry, but he sensed when things were wrong, and something was wrong now. No, wait, not wrong exactly, but off-kilter. For a long time he remained there with the breeze whispering around him, absentmindedly chewing the same mouth full of rose petals over and over, trying hard to define the cause of his unease.
He knew part of it was the well, the quiet, covered wishing well that he had never seen before.
And part of it was the small, odd stone that had found Sunny Daze.
But there was something else too . . . even if he couldn't quite identify it . . .
At last he identified it, and when he had he felt stupid and foolish and resolved not to bother anyone over such a normal, ordinary thing. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Like Sunsparkle, he had leaned in to get a better view of Sunny's prize, and when he had looked up again, the crow was gone.