In the time Honour had been reflecting, the three of them had reached the twenty-sixth floor of Canterlot's ancient defensive bastion, and the headquarters of its premier defenders. Behind the reception-desk, a sergeant major stood up and snapped to attention, as did a dozen other functionaries and clerks in the front office. The guards at the entrance hadn't bothered to give them a military escort; after all, the Royal Engineer already had one. They'd just pointed up and told them that Hoofstrong was on the twenty-sixth floor.