Panicking, Bitterroot bolted down an alley. She pinned herself against the wall, breathing deeply yet not getting any air. Who was that pony? How did she know where Bitterroot was all the time? Was she leading her into a trap? There had to be something more going on, and Bitterroot didn’t like it one bit. No tailing job had ever been anything like this. But should she expect anything less when chasing a necromancer?