A large lump formed in Inkie's throat. "I would suggest-" Maverick began. "Quiet, Maverick, I'm thinking," the voice snapped. "You!" It said abruptly and Inkie felt a poke in her sternum. "What is your name, young lady?" "Ink Quill." "Ink Quill, eh? And the other one?" "Primrose Peach!" barked Primrose. "Primrose Peach and Ink Quill, eh?" The mares nodded, and so did Maverick. "Well, Ink Quill and Primrose Peach, how would you like to die?" Maverick cringed, as if this happened a lot. "Eddie, I would prefer if you didn't kill them." "And I would prefer if you didn't call me Eddie." "Yes, sir. May I have a moment with them, please?" "If you must."

They were then dropped about a hundred feet, and were then surrounded by mirrors. "What is happening?" Primrose demanded. "More specific, please," Maverick said calmly. "What is up with that voice?" Inkie asked. "This is his realm. And, um, saying his real name gives him power over whoever said it, so, for now, we'll just call him Eddie." "And he said you've been in his realm for-" "Nine years, yes. Not the best years of my life, but it was better than the alternative." "Which was-?" "Time's up!" Came Eddie's voice. They were then jerked back upwards.