Rune fought to keep himself upright in the blistering cold, turbulent wind crying and whipping against his sides. His sight ran blurry like a window being pelted with rain, and his eyelashes were frosted with snow, but he could still see Isabel. She was moving, always moving, legs and tail tight with fear, head bobbing watchfully. Lilith was beside her, as promised, comforting her constantly.

  “Steady, Isabel. Rune and I are here. It won’t be much longer,” she said.

  Rune heard other voices in the distance. Singing, laughing, champagne glasses clinking. The chatter of young mares filling the hall. He slipped on the ice and pitched forward, but leaped back onto his feet before he fell, pushing Alissa back up.

  “Everyone hold up! Rune, let’s get Alissa down off of you,” Lilith said.

  Rune tossed his head to try to shake the visions. “I’m fine, really.”

  “No you’re not. Ariel, help me get her down,” she directed. They began to slide her down off of their backs.

  “What’s going on?” Orion called out.

  Rune screamed at the sight of blood spilling into view. There was no snow now, just bare pavement beneath his feet. He backed up and panted fearfully.

  “Help!” he called out, but the accented voice of a mare came from his lungs.

  He looked up and saw a massive cream draft mare, with thick mane and feathers like spun gold. She was splattered with blood, as was her gigantic sword, which she raised above her head furiously. Foals were screaming and running away, there were bodies of rabbits littering the town square, and the great mare let out a powerful war cry as she galloped toward him, sword aimed for the head.

  He jumped away from her blade at the last moment and grabbed her by the mane, dark magic biting down on her mind. The mare cried out in pain, dropping her sword and curling her neck fearfully. With a strong surge of dark magic, she fell to the ground, face planted into the asphalt and bleeding everywhere. Rune let go of her mane and backed away, the world swimming around him, blackening at the edges. There was cheering erupting from the crowd behind him, and they ran toward him, tossing their heads and whinnying with delight. He turned to watch them, lost his balance and smacked into the ground, warm blood rushing out of his nose.

  He could hear pieces of his own reality creeping in, Orion trying to talk to him, but it was quickly lost to the noise. He felt like he was falling endlessly into a dark pit, heart plunging to the bottom of his chest.

  The smell of rubbing alcohol burned his nostrils, and the sound of beeping machinery flooded his ears. The mare of his vision was immediately terrified, snapping awake and breathing hard. She tried to rise, but a hoof pushing down on her chest stopped her.

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  “Relax, honey. You’re alright,” an older chestnut mare told her.

  She swung her forehoof at the horse’s face and let her magic go, screaming with terror. They tried to restrain her, but she stood up too quickly, ripping the catheter from her arm, sending droplets of blood and fluids flying. She was sprinting down the hall, wanting to get out of that place at all costs, and didn’t stop running until she made it out the front doors. She fell to her knees, staring at the ground as it spun around her. Heart pounding, tears rolling, painful memories intruding. A bird flitted into her view and pecked at the grass, interrupting her spiral and sending Rune to another memory.

  “Which one is that, Papa?” a little filly asked.

  She looked up at her father, who was a stunning Trakehner stallion, sleek bay color, icy white socks and star. He was watching a bird flying through the trees, and studied it closely as it finally landed on a branch to rest, cooing its song.

  “Collared dove,” he said confidently. “They are visitors too, just like us.”

  She watched the grey bird flap away in wonder. “Papa, how did you get to know all these birds?”

  He laughed and ruffled her mane. “It took a long time. I don’t have nearly as much time to spend on those things anymore.”

  “Why not, Papa?”

  “I want nothing more than to spend it all with you. The birds, they will be here forever. But you are going to grow up fast,” he said. “And I want to be there for all of it.”

  He scooped her up in his arms and held her tightly, and she could hear his heart beating against her little face. He smelled like toasted marzipan and cinnamon sticks. Rune did not feel the filly’s comfort, though. He felt growing pain pounding on his forehead. The ground beneath them began to crumble and part, splitting their worlds in two. The little filly reached for her father, but he was too far, patiently standing on the edge of the cliff and watching as she drifted away. She looked down into the chasm, but the rocky land miles below was impassable. She cried out for him, even after the fog had long consumed him, tears rolling down her face for all of time.

  Rune’s chest jumped as he crashed back into his own realm. He was lying flat on his back in the snow, half buried into it from his struggle. Orion and Nathan leaned over him, trying to wake him from his visions.

  “Rune! It’s alright. We’re right here,” Orion said.

  Rune took a moment to catch his breath, and slowly sat up, bracing his hoof on Orion’s shoulder. “We’re in trouble.”

  “What do you mean?” Nathan asked.

  Isabel approached Rune cautiously, with deep worry in her eyes. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know,” Rune said. “But I’ve got a feeling she won’t like us, and she has an army behind her.”