Amanita had found the bridge, as Catskill learned once she reached it. It was much like she’d remembered it: narrow, with only room for three or four ponies side by side, and not much in the way of railings. Partly due to ruin, partly due to this particular bridge not being a large one to begin with. Catskill slowed her pace as she ascended the low arch; the stones were beginning to ice over.