Bitterroot panted, trying to tell herself that it technically wasn’t murder, since Gale was already dead. It wasn’t very convincing. At least her heart wasn’t racing. She turned back to Trace, but Trace was already gone. She strode away from the fire. “One down, three to go!” she screamed into the smoke. “And your unicorn’s lost her horn!” She pivoted her ears, ready to pinpoint the next pony.