Princesses of Equestria

Chapter 23: Explanation, and Invasion

Home. There's no place like it. Once you break back in, anyway. And speaking of 'braking' ...

Queen Armonia decelerated before she smeared herself on Equinox Greens' ward. Though she possessed magical power far greater than during her previous visit—and she'd pierced Intellectus's defenses even then—caution must be taken.

Sphinxes were not known for their stupidity, and Intellectus was no exception. He'd spotted her coming miles off, and a test shot confirmed her suspicions. That old fossil had strengthened his ward twentyfold. And all he'd had to do was take the camouflage off.

Constantly maintaining a concealment spell large enough to hide a ward covering hundreds of hectares required preposterous amounts of energy. And why bother hiding Equinox Greens anymore? Armonia knew where it was, and Intellectus knew she knew. So, he'd put those preposterous amounts of energy to better use.

Equinox Greens' new and improved ward glinted with the faceted resilience of diamond. A falling meteorite wouldn't have dented it. A tidal wave wouldn't have budged it. Even Armonia's test shot, which could've blasted all the way through Canterlot mountain, had made only a hoof-full of cracks, quickly mended.

Of course, Armonia's best shot would split the troublesome thing wide in seconds ... and leave her exhausted enough to give Intellectus an opening. Armonia wasn't born yesterday. The Guardian of Equinox Greens had more up his sleeve than magical walls. Much more.

Binding chains; fast as striking cobras, solider than steel. Hieroglyph-patterned ward armor that had, on one particularly memorable adventure, shrugged off the town-levelling swipe of an ursa major. Warp portals that made him next to impossible to pin down.

Then there were the clones; elemental doubles that knew every trick their master did. That ursa hadn't stood a chance against Intellectus's pride. And nor would Armonia if she didn't play this smart.

From the outside, Equinox Greens' ward was totally opaque. If she cut loose now, Intellectus would simply dispel his barrier, warp right next to her, summon his pride, chain her from head to hoof, and use the flail again.

Armonia shuddered. She'd only seen Intellectus cast that particular spell once (the second time it had stunned her before she even saw it coming), and she wasn't keen for a repeat performance.

When she was eleven, an elder dragon warlord, eager to add Queen Eponia's Heartstone to his expansive collection of treasures, had gathered his horde at Equinox Greens' threshold. Then, he'd paced forth—a juggernaut of molten scale whose steps rent the earth—and he'd called Intellectus out.

Intellectus shut off the ward. Used the flail. Turned the ward back on. And left a horde of stunned dragons staring at the spot where their warlord had been. He'd landed miles away in Canterlot lake and, upon regaining consciousness three days later, had slunk back to his cave without protest. As had his horde.

Armonia eyed her own. The phoblin legions had finally caught up with their mistress, and formed a writhing mass that dwarfed Equinox Greens' dome. Seven hundred thousand fear elementals precisely. Enough to bury a city. Drown an army. Conquer a realm.

And provide a big, fat, juicy target for the flail. If she ordered them to attack the ward, Intellectus would doubtless drop it, armor up, distract Armonia with a couple of copies, and crush her phoblins into greasy stains.

Which left plan C: do the crushing instead.

Armonia would need to time the moment perfectly. Intellectus mustn't suspect a thing. A terse command, and seven hundred thousand phoblins formed a dome of their own, completely encasing Equinox Greens in pitch blackness. None laid a claw on the barrier. Only their Queen would have that honor.