//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Winnowing // Story: Everfree // by Dusk Quill //------------------------------// Starlight pushed open the door he had just unlocked, sticking his gun through first and sweeping the room from the entryway. After his run-in with that unholy monster, he wasn’t taking any more chances. All he wanted to do was find his team and get the hell out of this forest.         The room that had previously been locked up was a laboratory of sorts. Beakers and flasks lined the many desks and tables in the long room, all filled with various colored liquids. Papers and journals lay strewn about between the glassware, and the floor was littered with broken quills by the dozen. Somepony had clearly been hard at work in here at some point in time.         Starlight trotted slowly around the edge of the room, taking in everything he could in stride. Half of the papers he saw seemed to be written in a language he didn’t understand. Symbols and shorthand notes that meant nothing to him jumped in disarray across the pages. The more he studied the notes, the more subtle hints he began to pick up on.         The first was the date written on each of the experiment reports and personal notes. The year was from the beginning of the third age, just shortly after the exile of Nightmare Moon—hundreds of years ago, if he remembered his history correctly. That can’t be right, he thought. It looks like somepony’s been here much more recently than that. The second thing he noticed was the difference in hoofwriting between some of the reports. There were at least two individuals working in here. Something told him those undead ponies running around outside weren’t the ones behind this…         Starlight set the papers down again and began examining the desks. One of the two was piled high with test tubes, each a varying shade of either green or purple. The papers accompanying each detailed an experiment for testing blood for some sort of disease, and what the colored results meant. From what he gathered, the blood in the vials was all in different stages of infection and decomposition.         Whoever’s blood they were testing, they were dying fast, Starlight surmised and felt grim pity overcome him. Perhaps this place had been a hospital? But then where was all the medical equipment? He moved quickly on to the next desk. This one was scattered with semi-transparent crystals, also of different colors and sizes. Some were as small as a paperweight, and others as big as his head. The sealed scroll next to a pair of crystals detailed a hypothesis on how the different crystals could amplify different types of magic. He didn’t understand a lick of it, but it must have made sense to a unicorn.         So unicorns were working here… I wonder what they were trying to accomplish…?         Starlight snagged one of the smaller clear crystals and tucked it away in his armor. Maybe somepony else could shed some light on what they were, and what exactly had been going on here.         With a roar of anger, Blackjack brought his hoof across the pony’s skull in a harsh kick. He felt the bone give way under his horseshoe, and heard the snapping pop of bones dislocating, and then the creature dropped his other leg and went limp. The bat pony crawled across the wooden floor away from the temporarily incapacitated enemy, trying to catch his breath as he pressed himself up against the wall. This thing was relentless, he had to give it that. Since it had begun chasing him, he had been unable to lose it for more than a minute. It was like the pony had locked on to him, and wanted his blood alone.         Blackjack winced as he pulled his leg up to his body, inspecting the wound. The zombie pony was certainly after his blood, that was for sure. The deep gash in his leg from where the pony had tried to take a chunk out of his muscle was bleeding badly. His face and upper chest had been scratched and clawed up in the other scuffles he’d had with his persistent nemesis, though they weren’t as severe as his leg and shoulder were. He’d probably have to hobble back to the medical station again when he lost his pursuer.         If I can make it that far… He had never thought so gravely before in his life. Blackjack had always been the optimistic one on the team. Whenever the others lost sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, he pushed them on. But now, sitting bleeding on the floor in some uncharted town in the middle of nowhere, he couldn’t help but wonder who was going to push him on when he needed somepony to lean on.         He heard a soft hiss of air to his side. He didn’t need to look up anymore to know the zombie was getting up again. His moment of respite was over, but the wooziness he was starting to succumb to begged him not to keep running. His survival instinct was stronger, however, and using the wall for support, he rose uneasily to his hooves. His legs trembled as the strength was literally sapped from him.         He shot a smoldering glare at the skeletal pony also struggling to get up again. “You ready to keep going, partner…?”         The pony growled back in response while it snapped its neck back into place.         “That’s what I thought…” Blackjack all but threw himself down the corridor as the chase started up again. It hurt to keep running on his injured leg, but adrenaline did its best to mask the pain and keep him going.         The pony hissed and charged after him. It was much faster than the crippled stallion, and within moments, it had caught up again. Blackjack spun and lifted his pistol, firing every shot he had into the pony until it collapsed with a yelp to the floor. His rifle had long-since run out of bullets, and he was on his last magazine for his sidearm too. It was almost as if he could literally feel his sand of time slipping out of his hooves at an alarming rate.         Blackjack stumbled down the hall and turned the next corner. A staircase in front of him led up to the second floor again. He had been running around blindly in a circle. A snarl behind him let him know it was too late to go back and find another escape route.         Propelling himself forward as fast as his hooves could carry him, the panting, struggling stallion limped up the stairs. Just as he reached the top, he heard the clatter of steps coming up hastily behind him. That pony was right on his tail. Giving another shout, Blackjack bucked his good leg out, catching the pony in the jaw just as it lunged for his flank. He heard the satisfying sound of bone breaking, followed by something heavy tumbling down every single step to the landing below.         This time, Blackjack didn’t waste any time in looking over his fallen opponent. He took off, practically breaking down the door at the top of the stairs and barreling down the corridor it led to. He had never been to this section of the mansion before, and had no idea which way to go. He took a blind guess, and ran around a corner, down a little further, and pushed through a solid metal door.         Cool air hit his body like a wall, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth inside the house. The door had led to a balcony on the west side of the mansion. Hurriedly throwing the door shut behind him, Blackjack muttered a silent curse at the lack of a lock on it, and hobbled down the length of the balcony. The balcony wrapped around a corner of the building, and when Blackjack rounded it, he saw that it led absolutely nowhere. The wrought iron balustrade ended the narrow path at an old, mossy bench.         A sharp twinge in his leg sent Blackjack collapsing to the cool stone floor of the balcony. He cried out and grunted as he fell, every single muscle in his body feeling like it was on fire. His lungs hurt, and his head was throbbing. He couldn’t continue any longer.         The bat pony crawled across the floor to the bench and pulled himself up into the seat. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. A light rainfall had begun, and the misting drizzle felt glorious against his sweaty, clammy skin. His heart was racing faster than he thought it should be, and quietly contemplated if he would ever see his friends again, or his home, or anything outside of this damned place.         Blackjack slowly lifted his hoof, reaching into his armor and pulling out a shiny brass necklace with a medallion on it. A symbol of a cutie mark lay etched into it. It was his fiancée’s—it had been her engagement gift to him. His entire body felt heavy and fatigued as the life literally ebbed away from him in a steady flow of blood that pooled around his hooves. He thought of the life he was losing, and everything he never got to live for, all because of those cursed creatures.         The door opened with a loud noise. Blackjack’s ears twitched slightly, listening to the sound of slow, deliberate hoofsteps getting closer and closer to him. His hoof tightened around his medallion and his pistol simultaneously. He didn’t know how many bullets he had left, but he was going to make them all count for something. If he was going down, he was going down swinging. He wouldn’t have expected any less of himself.         A low, violent hiss broke the quiet. His pale green eyes slowly opened again, and he glared down at the zombie pony standing a short distance away from him. It had him trapped. In the cooler air, he could see the creature’s breath hanging like a fine, deadly mist before its sharp teeth. He vowed not to give it the satisfaction of an easy kill, and if he could still escape, he would.         The zombie gave a twitch and took a slow, threatening step towards the collapsed bat pony.         “All right, partner. You wanna fight…? I’ll give you a fight…” he muttered, his voice dark and gruff.         As the pony took another step closer, Blackjack cocked the hammer on his gun.         Daybreak whimpered quietly to himself as he cantered aimlessly down the long corridor. This mansion seemed a lot bigger on the inside than he had anticipated. He suddenly wished he hadn’t run off without Starlight. The passageway was cast in a dim orange light from candles spaced intermittently along the walls, throwing warm light across paintings of ponies and landscapes of the surrounding forest.         He didn’t know where the hell he was, but it had to be somewhere in the mansion’s basement level. He distinctly remembered running down a flight of stairs, and a few minutes later, here he was. Maybe I should go back, he thought as his hooves carried him forward regardless. He hadn’t seen any of those monsters in forever. Perhaps Starlight had actually killed them, and there were no more?         It was wishful thinking, but it was what kept him moving. At the end of the hall, Daybreak could see a door, ominously framed with brightly burning torches. The door was made of some kind of darker wood, or had been painted black. Either way, it looked the opposite of inviting.         Daybreak warily approached the door, kicked the padlock off, and opened it with a shaking hoof. He bit at his lower lip, cringing when the door squeaked on its old hinges. The room beyond was not what he had been expecting. A large, square room made of stone and tile lay mostly cloaked in darkness, with only a faintly burning chandelier overhead, tossing rays of fiery light around. The walls of the room were made entirely of mirrors, and reflected everything, giving the room an impossibly infinite appearance.         The stallion stepped around the door, shutting it as quietly as possible behind him. The side of the door facing into the room was scratched up, deep claw marks flayed into the solid wood. Daybreak felt the blood drain from his face. He reached for the handle again, deciding against hiding in this room in a split second, cowardice making his decisions for him.         A low hiss came from the ceiling above his head.         Daybreak yelped and stumbled backwards a few paces, pointing his gun up into the shadows. There was nothing there. His weapon trembled in his quivering grasp, and he could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. Ever so slowly, the pony eased himself backwards toward the center of the room, sweeping his eyes left and right as he moved.         “H-Hello…?” he called out into the emptiness. “Is somepony there…?”         He got no response. Daybreak swallowed back the knot in his throat and tried to steady his breathing. If he couldn’t see anything, there must have been nothing there. His mind was playing tricks on him.         Daybreak hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until his lungs began to hurt. He let out the air in a drawn out sigh, dropping his weapon and sitting back on the cool tile floor. This place was getting in his head and playing with him… Left with time to his thoughts, guilt began to gnaw at his conscience. Maybe I should go find Star…         A flash of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Daybreak spun around hastily, gun up and pointed everywhere. His reflection stared wide-eyed and terrified back at him, pointing a mirage of a gun into space. Mirrors—it had just been the mirrors fooling him. With a sigh, he calmed himself down, setting his gun to the side as he took a few relaxing breaths.         He stared at his own reflection in the mirror for a while. His mane looked disheveled, and his coat was covered in dirt and mud. Ordinarily, he would’ve considered them trophies of a job well done. In this case, they looked more like scars, reminding him just how hard he had to try to just stay alive. He sighed. It would be good to get home, find the nearest shower, maybe a good meal…         Somewhere in between his homeward bound thoughts, something had dropped down behind his reflection. Daybreak looked up curiously into the mirror. It looked like a long, thin strip of flesh. Feeling his heart miss a beat, he spun around quickly and saw—nothing. There was nothing but empty space behind him.         He furrowed his brow, but the mirrors on the other wall showed the same reflection, with something hanging down beside him. What the…? he thought, looking all around the room. It was completely empty. So what is that in the mirror?         Daybreak peered closer at the mirror, trying to discern what he was seeing. And then he noticed something shift just slightly up at the top of the mirror, on the ceiling. He looked up, and still saw nothing. Then he felt something squeeze tightly around his neck.         With a choking gasp, Daybreak was hoisted off of the ground and suspended in midair. He tried to breathe, but it felt like somepony was tightening a rope around his neck, trying to garrote him. Daybreak could feel warm, wetness pressing into his throat, cutting off his oxygen intake. He choked and wheezed, his hooves scrabbling at his neck. He couldn’t see anything though!         What—? His eyes darted around, and settled on the mirror. There, in the shiny surface, he could see his reflection, being suspended in the same position he was, with the strip of flesh coiled like a snake constricting around his neck. His eyes dropped to the ground, spotting his gun lying what seemed like miles away.         Daybreak’s muscles began to feel like lead and his vision faded to a black blur. He could hear his heart pounding in his head, strong and slow, as his heart rate dropped. In a matter of moments, he knew he would be dead. Struggling and squirming in the air only seemed to burn the oxygen in his blood even faster. A few seconds later, his hooves dropped from the thing choking the life out of him, and he hung limply in the air. Another second later, he had accepted his fate.         The next, he heard a cry and a gunshot, and then the world came rushing back to him.         Midnight Dasher felt an invigorating rush of relief hit her when her hoof finally touched down onto solid ground. The ladder seemed to have gone on forever, and at some point she wondered if she was climbing into the center of the earth. Still lost in the darkness, at least she had the luxury of terra firma beneath her again.         With a soft hum, Midnight trotted down the narrow passageway, following the one direction she could go until she could progress no further. The passage had led to a dead end. What? But that’s impossible, she thought, and began checking the walls for buttons or switches, or another puzzle. Amidst her frantic searching, she pressed against the walls, and then against the one in front of her. It began to shift a little.         Grinning widely to herself, Midnight pushed the wall with all her strength, and, a few pushes and grunts later, warm light flooded into her eyes. She slinked out from between the gap she had created—and gasped in horror as the sight before her. The room she had entered was made entirely of mirrors, with nothing in it aside from Daybreak, hanging in midair. His wings were beating, but they moved in strange patterns, certainly not what was keeping him airborne. His face had flushed a purplish color, and his legs swayed weakly in the air, as if some invisible noose was hanging him.         “Daybreak!” she cried out, confused and terrified at the same time.         That was when her eyes caught the mirrors. In the reflections, Midnight saw what looked like a long tongue wrapped around her friend’s neck, and the shape of something on the ceiling by the chandelier. Wasting no time to consider what was going on, Midnight lifted her gun and fired a single bullet into the space where the reflection showed the creature. The bullet vanished with a dull thwack and a high-pitched wail echoed around the room.         Daybreak dropped to the ground hard and lay sprawled across the tile. Midnight rushed up beside him, looking over the stallion as he coughed and gasped for air. It looked like she had made it in the nick of time. A sound crossed between a hiss and a screech came from nowhere, the noise hurting Midnight’s sensitive ears.         “Wh-What the hell?!” Daybreak said, scrabbling for his gun.         Midnight chewed on her bottom lip, eyes darting to every corner of the room rapidly. “I was about to ask the same thing.”         The room was silent and still for the longest time. Midnight slowly got back up, checking for whatever had attacked her teammate. It was like the monster had just vanished. And then she caught a blur of motion in one of the mirrors, and turned quickly. In the mirror’s sheen, she could see the back of something. It was scaly and hard, and looked almost reptilian. But there was nothing in front of her.         “Oh, my sweet Luna…” she heard Daybreak say in a terrified whisper.         Her head turned around. He was staring at one of the mirrors behind her. Midnight glanced back, and felt her blood run cold. The mirror showed the creature staring right at her. It looked like it might have been a pony—if ponies could crossbreed with lizards. The pony’s fur had been replaced with reptile-like scales. It had no discernable facial features: no nose or eyes. The pony was grinning at them—a sort of macabre smile carved into is face. Its teeth resembled those of the Sunny Town population: jagged, twisted fangs like steak knives gleaming at them in the light. From the pony’s maw, a long, vile tongue extended well beyond normal length, almost as long as the creature itself.         “What in the name of Equestria…?”         The pony in the mirror leapt upward, springing impossibly high and disappearing from sight. Midnight spun around, searching the other mirrors for it. She could just barely make out glimpses of it in the tops of the mirrors, crawling around on the ceiling like a spider.         “Where is it?!” Daybreak asked, his voice cracking. “Where is it?!”         Midnight didn’t respond. She was too busy trying to track the creature. The room had fallen silent, and she heard a soft sound of a hoof on stone above her head. She glanced up, and felt a force strike her chest hard enough to send her flying back with an oof. She hit the ground hard, and looked up, only seeing Daybreak on the other side of the room.         The mirrors told a different story. That creature was standing between her and the stallion, now advancing on him. Midnight lifted her gun and fired a short volley of shots where the thing supposedly was, and was rewarded with another shriek of anguish. She watched the reflection of the invisible creature bare its teeth and lunge at Daybreak, catching the stallion between the ribs and hurling him through the air and into the wall. He impacted the mirror, shattering it instantly, and collapsed to the ground in a heap.         “Day! Are you all right?” Midnight asked from across the room, keeping her eyes and ears alert for any signs of their unseen foe.         Daybreak coughed and eased himself back into a standing position. “Y-Yeah, I think so.”         “We need to end this, now,” said Midnight, pressing her back up against the cold surface of a mirror.         “Screw that! We need to run!” Daybreak made a run for the door.         “And what’s stopping it from chasing us? At least in here we can see it!”         Midnight’s words held validity, and froze Daybreak in his tracks. She watched him for a few moments, wondering if he was going to come back and fight or run off.         “Day, I need your help. I can’t see it anymore.”         Still, Daybreak refused to move. Shooting an angry glare at the pony, Midnight saw the pony twitch, and felt her anger die instantly. Blood was trickling down his chest, like something had pierced his flesh. He wasn’t moving because he couldn’t move. That thing had him!         “Daybreak, no!”         The pony’s head snapped grotesquely to the side, and the sickening sound of the stallion’s vertebrae popping out of place turned Midnight’s stomach over. Daybreak’s head hung limply to one side as he remained frozen by the door. She looked behind her at the mirror opposite the door, and saw the monster holding her teammate’s throat in its jaws, its head twisted in motion. It had broken Daybreak’s neck.         No mirror by the door… Couldn’t see it… Daybreak…! Midnight’s thoughts were a flurry of guilt and fear. Daybreak’s body dropped to the floor like it was nothing more than a puppet. The creature hissed and bared its teeth at Midnight Dasher, Daybreak’s blood staining its fangs—and making it visible.         Clenching her teeth in blind fury, Midnight took aim at the semi visible head, and fired every shot left in her rifle into her enemy. The creature snarled and flopped to the floor, flailing about for a moment before leaping to the ceiling again. Midnight had had enough of this. She was going to kill this thing if it cost her every bullet she had.         Another empty room. Fleethoof suppressed an irritated growl as he slammed yet another door shut and took off down the corridor. His search for Midnight Dasher had been fast and frantic, hastily checking every room he came across on both levels of the mansion. So far, he had turned up nothing.         Where would a secret passage even let out? he wondered as he came across a dusty storage closet. Nopony was inside. His teeth gnashed together so hard it hurt, and down the hall he went again. He had considered simply shouting her name into the void and seeing if he could hear anything, but the chances of attracting unwanted attention were far greater than the possibility of finding his partner.         Hell, I don’t even know if she’s in this side of the mansion anymore—let alone in the mansion at all! Fleethoof checked the last room in the first floor corridor. It was locked tightly.         That was when he heard the subtle laughter of a little foal on the air. His ears perked up. It was the same sound he had heard in the Everfree Forest earlier. He strained his hearing, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. It almost sounded like it was coming from the end of the corridor.         He bolted to the end of the hall and rounded the last corner—and flinched as he nearly ended up tumbling headfirst down a flight of stairs. A scene of flailing hooves and beating wings returned his balance, and the pony took the stairs at a much more graceful rate. He hadn’t realized there had been a basement level.         The basement ended up being a long, dark corridor with nothing but a door at the far end. How ominous… Let’s see what’s behind creepy door number one… Fleethoof hurried in his approach, and as he drew nearer the door, an unshakable feeling of dread overcame him. Something didn’t feel right…         Pulling the heavy wood door open, Fleethoof felt solace replace the tension. Midnight Dasher was sitting in the corner of the room, her back pressed up to a wall of mirrors, clutching her gun for dear life. When he stepped past the door, her wide, golden eyes darted to him, and a smile spread across his face.         “Midnight! You’re okay!”         “Don’t come in, Fleet!”         But Midnight’s cry was far too late. The next moment happened in slow motion to Fleethoof. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he saw a dark mass on the floor just in front of him. He looked down, and only caught a glimpse of the shiny purple armor of a Lunar Guard. That was when something squeezed around his throat and lifted him off the ground.         Fleethoof gave a strangled cry and fought with all his might against his attacker. His hooves kicked wildly in the air, trying to find purchase with whatever was holding him. He looked around, anxiously trying to see what was happening. There was absolutely nothing around him. The sticky, warm pressure threatening to crush his windpipe spoke otherwise.         Across the room, he could see a look of pure terror in Midnight’s eyes. She must’ve known what was happening, and looked utterly powerless as she pointed her gun aimlessly around him. Fleethoof beat his wings in frenzy—and felt the tips of his feathers brush against something cool and scaly above him.         Not like this! His hoof going for the knife on his vest, Fleethoof brandished the blade and swung it with all his strength through the air above his head. He felt the knife slice through something solid, and heard an ear-splitting shriek like a banshee as he dropped to the ground. He landed flat on his hooves, breathing hard while stumbling across the room to the far wall beside Midnight.         “What… the… fuck…?” he spoke between gasps of air.         Midnight said, “The mirrors!”         The mirrors? Fleethoof’s eyes turned to the walls of reflective mirrors, and saw what had so nearly ended him, and had killed another Nightwatch soldier. The gray, scaled pony was completely invisible to the eye, but its reflection gave away its position. It was lying on the floor, blood spilling from its mouth as it clutched at its extensive, dismembered tongue. So that’s what was choking me.         Fleethoof drew his pistol and followed the reflections, drawing down on where the pony was and squeezing off two shots. The bullets hit the creature in the chest and sent it stumbling back into the wall. Fleethoof grinned, and trained his sights where its head was. Gotcha, you son of a—         The pony disappeared as it leapt to the ceiling again, just out of sight from the mirrors. Fleethoof felt his expression drop, and icy fear stung at his heart. Where had it gone? He spun around, checking the ceiling and the mirrors all at once. Beside him, Midnight was doing the same.         And then a mirror from across the room shattered into a thousand pieces. The ponies spun around, staring at the broken mirror. What had happened to it? Midnight had just begun to ponder that, when another mirror behind them broke as well.         “It’s breaking the mirrors!” Midnight said as she realized what was happening.         “Stop it!” Fleethoof’s shout was punctuated by another breaking mirror. This time, the pegasus spun to face it and fired three shots blindly at the destroyed mirror. They impacted the wall harmlessly.         The room was quiet again for a long, tense moment. No more mirrors smashed, and no sound was made from any of the living beings in the room. Fleethoof held his breath, feeling his pulse race as he tried to anticipate the creature’s next move. His hoof flexed over his pistol. Midnight was breathing slow and hard, staring down at the floor as she strained her hearing to pick up on something—anything.         Fleethoof heard a sound behind him, like something gently tapping against glass. The fur on the back of his neck bristled and every muscle in his body tightened up. As fast as he could, Fleethoof spun and pointed his gun at the mirror. The reflection showed the underbelly of the creature. It was poised on the mirror’s surface, ready to strike.         The monster hissed intimidatingly and pounced the pony. Fleethoof grunted as he felt the invisible force make contact with his chest. He hit the floor hard, his gun going off and cracking another mirror. With no way of telling what was happening, Fleethoof’s hooves shot instinctively into the air above him, and felt the cool skin of his enemy press down against his grasp. He could hear the snapping of its teeth and smell its hot, musky breath washing over his face.         “Fleet!” Midnight’s cry caught the pegasus’ attention for all of a second.         “Midnight, don’t shoot it!” he said through clenched teeth, pushing against the monster with all his might. “No more bullets! Just—grr, just finish it!”         Midnight was confused. “How?!”         “Stab the motherfucker in the heart!”         Midnight paused for a moment, letting his command sink in. If bullets couldn’t do any damage to it, maybe piercing its heart would do the trick. Eyes narrowing, Midnight pulled a serrated combat knife from her armor and rushed up to Fleethoof. She didn’t need the mirrors to know the thing was right on top of him. Estimating where its chest was, she gave a loud battle cry and drove the blade down through the air. The blade of the knife vanished into thin air as she felt it penetrate something solid, and a gurgling gasp came out of thin air.         With Midnight doing severe damage to it, Fleethoof was able to force the invisible predator back enough to lunge up at it. He wrapped his hooves around its neck with a growl, and with all his strength, twisted in opposite directions. It took a tremendous amount of force, but he was rewarded with the sound of bones popping out of place. The creature gave a choking cry and gave a spasm in Fleethoof’s grasp.         Fleethoof pushed the creature aside with a grunt and grabbed his knife as well. With a quick glance to a mirror to confirm where the body was, he yelled and drove the blade down into the front of the pony’s chest. It gave a sound like a ball deflating, and lay still. Fleethoof waited a few moments to confirm it was dead before drawing back again, his breathing shallow and fur damp with cold sweat.         Midnight stood behind Fleethoof, pointing her gun past his shoulder at where the dead creature lay, making sure it didn’t move again. With a soft grunt, Fleethoof pulled his and Midnight’s knives out of the corpse, giving it a kick for good measure.         “I’m ready to go home now…” he muttered under his breath as he passed the knife back to Midnight.         As he stepped away from the scene, he heard Midnight Dasher put two bullets into the body. She spat angrily down on it and said, “That’s for Daybreak.”         Fleethoof gathered up his fallen gun and glanced over at the crumpled corpse of Daybreak on the floor. Pity overcame the stallion. Daybreak had probably died terrified and confused. He wished there was a way they could bring the body with them, but knew it was impossible. At least you don’t need to be afraid anymore, Daybreak, he thought, trying to bring himself some solace as he and Midnight trudged back to the door and made their way back up into the mansion.