Glacier woke up cozily wrapped in a purple blanket, on a bed with carved oak banisters that belonged in a palace. It was the last place he expected to be. He looked around the room in complete confusion. There was a decorated vanity table, wall sconces holding unlit candles, and a framed painting of a black Arabian horse with a tiny white star on her forehead. She had Apollo fascinated. He was pacing back and forth in front of the mare’s image methodically.

  “Apollo? Where are we?” he grumbled.

  His ghost turned to him, perplexed. “I was hoping you would have an idea. Who would have a painting of Rhapsody but me-or perhaps my sister?”

  Glacier stood up slowly, finding his balance. He yawned, and wandered closer to the painting. “You’re sure this is the same horse? I mean, there’s like a thousand Arabians that look like that.”

  “No, it’s definitely her. The date is during her lifetime, just after mine. Now that I think of it, this room may have belonged to her,” Apollo explained.

  “Was purple her favorite color or something?” Glacier said offhandedly, running a hoof down the violet curtains.

  Apollo laughed. “Do you think I know that mare’s secrets? I only knew her for five short months before I died. Even the time I spent haunting the palace was largely fruitless.”

  The doorknob squeaked and turned, and Glacier jumped at the sound.

  “Oh! You are awake. I was getting worried,” a little grey pony said, peeking into the room.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” Glacier demanded.

  “Calm down, have a seat. You’ve had quite the ride to get here. You’re in the ancestral home of Onyx,” he explained. “I’m Doctor Greg.”

  Apollo snorted and stomped the floor. “We’re in the bronc Rebel’s house? What are they doing with a picture of Rhapsody on the wall?”

  Glacier laid his ears back. “I am not calming down until you tell me what is going on. What am I doing here?”

  “We’re trying to give you a safe haven. I imagine your friends back home don’t think of you quite the same, now that you’ve nearly killed a mare and summoned the spirit of a dictator in the public square,” Doctor Greg said.

  Glacier stared at the pony a moment, completely confused. Greg mostly ignored his distress, and poured two cups of tea, offering one to him. He refused it. He looked around the room, racking his brain for something he knew he was missing. The purple dress draped over the top of the wardrobe door reminded him.

  “Where are my daughters?”

  Greg sipped from his cup. “Home in Norfolk, I believe.”

  “I need to go look after them. Do they even know where I am?” he panicked.

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  “I don’t think they know you’re here. Is their mother not around?” Greg replied.

  Glacier slapped the tea out of Greg’s hoof, shattering the cup on the floor, and shoved past him. He tried the door, but the knob wouldn’t budge. He grabbed Greg by the collar of his white coat and shoved him against the wall.

  “You’re going to let me see my girls right now, or you’re going to regret ever being born,” Glacier said through gritted teeth.

  The door slammed open, revealing Orion and Ashley. Glacier turned to look at them, but did not let Greg go. Orion grabbed him by the mane and let his dark magic come forth, throwing him off of Greg and sending him to the floor.

  “What in Epona’s name is going on?” he shouted.

  “You tell me,” Glacier said. “I should’ve known you and your nag of a wife would be responsible for this.”

  Ashley was appalled at his words. “We are not married. I’m old enough to be his mother. And if you call me a nag ever again, I’ll make you think about it for the rest of your life.”

  “Leave him as he is. He clearly needs more time to cool off,” Orion said.

  “Cool off? I’d like to see you cool off after being thrown into a-”

  Orion held him down to the floor while the three of them hurried out and locked the door behind them. Glacier continued to scream obscenities. Orion sighed and put a hoof to his forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Greg. I wouldn’t have asked you to go talk to him if I thought it would end that way,” he said.

  Greg brushed down his wrinkled coat. “Oh, it’s no matter. He is more combative than I anticipated, but certainly not the most aggressive I’ve met.”

  “You’re busy enough without having to worry about that loose end. How is Marshall holding up?” Orion asked.

  “You may as well come talk to him. Miracle has been a great help, I think she will make a wonderful nurse. The fracture is healing nicely, but Marshall is disheartened, of course.”

  Orion dropped his head and let his ears droop. “I should talk to him, but I can’t help but think that the whole thing was my fault.”

  “How could it be, Orion? Laci made her own choice. None of us are proud of it,” Greg said.

  “When I rescued her, I took an oath. I promised I would protect her. I never thought I would have to protect her from herself.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for everything, Orion. You’ll just have to do your best to fix it,” Greg comforted.

  “How am I supposed to fix it when I don’t even know exactly where she is?” Orion said, exasperated. “Horse breakers in Jersey. Why on Earth would they go after her? They’re going to get themselves killed.”

  “I agree, but we can’t spend the rest of our lives mulling about it in a corner. Come talk to Marshall,” Greg said, opening the door to the infirmary.

  Marshall looked even smaller and more pitiful than Orion remembered, curled up on the hospital bed with a fragile expression. His tiny ears were stuck backwards with pain and worry, and his eye was triangular, staring at the ceiling blankly. Miracle stood beside him, rearranging bags on the IV pole.

  “Marshall,” said Greg. “Someone is here to see you.”

  He looked over without lifting his head, and saw Orion standing in the doorway, arms folded apprehensively.

  “Orion! Come here,” he beckoned.

  The Friesian strode over to Marshall’s bedside, and fixed his mane with a hoof. “Oh, Marshall. You must hurt terribly. Your spirit hasn’t left you, I hope.”

  The Warmblood shook his head. “I’m three years old, Orion. I’ve got a lot to do before I die.”