“Hard left!” I yelled. My wings clipped against Grit’s as we yanked our stallion through a plot of tall weeds. I was beginning to recognize where we were when Docks was torn out of our hooves. Braking hard, I whipped around expecting to see my friend getting dogpiled and torn to shreds. Instead, I found that he had shrunk to the height of a normal pony. No, not shrunk.