“Is he awake?” Russet rushed from the main chamber into the crammed side-den of Twitch’s burrow where Sylvia was shaking me.

I gasped, disoriented. The vision felt right behind my eyes. The voices helped keep my focus on the physical.

“Mostly. The bite reopened.” Sylvia sounded concerned.

“Bremen,” Russet stressed my name, “is it you?”

In the darkness, I could only make out vague shapes, but my nose caught the smell of my friends. My shoulder throbbed, an ache that spread down my foreleg and up my neck.

“Yes.” I quickly tapped out a three-by-three code. Hopefully, Konal wouldn’t understand the importance. “Konal was feeding off my anger and they were in danger. Twitch and... and Rebel. I think Rebel is or was having a vision of this vision or... I don’t know, his younger self was there. He saved Konal’s life after Konal saved Chiron.”

“Wait.” Sylvia looked puzzled. “In the vision?”

“The vision showed me one of Konal’s memories,” I answered. “Before they all died. They ran into a wolf pack, and Konal was going to sacrifice himself to save the others. But Rebel said he couldn’t die yet.” I shook my head. “That felt real. Twitch and Rebel, they felt real. Maybe Twitch’s soul couldn’t move on. He said Death couldn’t enter the vision, because of what Hue did.”

“She broke something between herself and Death,” Russet said. “But Twitch could enter because of his connection to you?”

“Yes.” I took a breath and sighed. I was still too angry. “Twitch said my survival will determine what happens to his soul. And he gave me a message about getting the foxes to move on: ‘Have a vision of Death’s name, He will allow them to pass on. Tell Russet: Death hides under the soil between ferns, ginger, and lilies.’”

“That’s an issue,” Russet said. “The Seerleaf will be ready at dawn, but we only got one dose from the divinorum. We’ll need to get all four foxes together to use it against them.”

“Perhaps we can convince Konal to help get everyone in one place,” I said.

Sylvia offered, “If we can send Chimera back, we might be able to get some help from Basil for a second vision.”

“But it’d be best to get them all at once,” Russet said.

Sylvia flicked her ears nervously between Russet and me. “But...”

“We’re tricksters,” Russet said. “It’s like escape routes. You run through as many of them as you can and hope that one of the routes is what you need when danger arrives. Tricks are like that. We have a basic plan, and we’re going to adapt and figure it out when it happens.”

“And what of Death’s name?” I asked. “I always heard it was Erebus. Although, he has many names in stories: The Black Rabbit. The Midnight Crow. The Fox with One Red Paw. The Bloodied Weasel. The Winter Wolf, although that last one was just Rebel’s legend in Hazelford.”

“Those are just titles. His name is Rhizome,” Sylvia said.

I looked at her, confused.

“From the riddle,” Russet explained. “Rhizomes are underground stems. They’re how ferns, ginger and lilies spread. At the worst, I can use that as a seed to seek His name with the Seerleaf. Why else would He have added that part?”

“I guess?” I frowned, but I wasn’t up for pondering that further. “Think it over when I go back to the dream. Tomorrow is a fourth day, and Chimera was planning something tomorrow.” I grunted as my shoulder sent out a fresh claw of pain. “All I have to do is lose to let Konal join them.”

“After you save Twitch and Rebel,” Russet said.

“I’m too angry to save them.” I thought about the rabbit that warned me before I woke up. I was frustrated with Twitch for leaving. And, as wrong as it was, I was angry he didn’t say goodbye when he left Hazelford. I was hurt that I had ruined our friendship. And I had been so focused on my own guilt that I hadn’t forgiven him for his actions. “Forgive yourself, your family, your friends.”

Sylvia distracted herself by checking the bite on my shoulder again. “But Konal made you say what you did.”

“But he found those words in my memories and thoughts.” My emotions were frayed, but that still hurt. “Twitch couldn’t hunt. We did that to him.”

“He forgave us for that long ago,” Russet insisted. “He didn’t have to accept our friendship. He could have rejected our teachings. He chose our world and knew what he would lose.”

“Yeah. But he...” And there it was. I let it out. “Being around me was too painful, but he didn’t even try to talk to me about it. He left and didn’t let us support him in finding a proper source of food. I know it’s too late to go back and do something different. I know he didn’t leave to hurt us. I need time to move past that.”

“Are you upset that my Pepperpuff was too slow?” Russet asked.

“What? A little, but anyone else wouldn’t have been able to hit Fang before he shook Twitch. You did your best.”

Sylvia winced. “I’m the one who collapsed. If I could have made that run, you wouldn’t have had to stop, and taking Fang hostage wouldn’t have been needed.”

“They were too fast,” Russet objected. “We would have been caught, anyway.”

“We’re all family here, Sylvia. We supported each other the best we could.” I sighed a little. “Twitch did what he thought was best when he left. I thought if we could only meet with him and get him back to the Storyteller conference, we’d be friends again. But we’ll miss it, and that’s not his fault. It hurts, all of it hurts, but, had he stayed, it would have hurt him more.”

I spoke the words, but I needed time to feel them. Time I didn’t have. Still, the conversation died as I attempted to get my emotions under control.

Eventually, Sylvia asked, “If I’m family, then who are the friends you have to forgive?”

“Someone who’s lost their way and can’t pass on. Someone who hurt us to protect his brother. Someone who doesn’t deserve to be stuck between life and death. No one deserves that.” I gulped. “Maybe you two can reason with Konal. He hates Chimera and wants Fang and Talus free of him as much as we want to save Fig, Cinnamon, and Basil. I’ll try to get you what information I can, like how Fig tried to warn us. So keep an ear open for it.”

“Everyone is a friend, even foxes,” Sylvia observed. She turned to the side and flattened her ears. “That’s a difficult life to live.”

Russet gave a nod. “Though friends may die by fang and claw... Right?”

I couldn’t speak the proper response; I wasn’t sure Foxvale would survive.

Russet frowned and instead offered a blessing. “May Prince Twilight find you a safe path.”

I settled back on the floor as they left. Would dying in the vision hurt? I’ve been injured in dreams before, dreamt a bobcat bit off my front foot. It took almost all day before hopping on it felt normal again. That was when I learned to control my dreams. So many nightmares, but I knew I could wake up if I needed and that dreams could not hurt me. This vision was different.

A storyteller has to be willing to walk up to their worst nightmare, ask if it wants to talk, and be prepared for what it might say. Konal would be worse. I was entering his den, where there would be no escape.

Blackfeather didn’t believe in enemies. I wanted to follow my father’s path, but I was scared.

My body shivered against the thin layer of snow in Twitch’s burrow. But there shouldn’t be any inside, only in the vision.

The cold was more intense this time; the snow nipped at my paws. There was no sun or moon in the frozen haze, only a dull light that reached through the branches. The cold ignored my fur, feeling icy right against my skin. A thin trail of red stretched out in front of me, where Konal was fighting my friends.

Despite the snow, the sounds of the scuffle carried through the woods. A shout followed, “Konal, I’m the one you want!”

I broke into a run, but hit a wall of snow covered brambles. Konal’s response was muffled as I dug my way through it. The vision had returned, but this wasn’t where I left. My fox-self was about to make a mistake.

I shouted, “They’ll die,” as I broke through.

Konal rolled to knock Rebel off his back, causing Twitch and fox-Bremen to jump back. The scene just before I woke up.

“Because of your anger,” I insisted.

Fox-Bremen and I faced each other for a heartbeat, then he turned back to the scuffle. We watched as Konal tossed Twitch into the air and sent Rebel skidding along the ground. I thought, what had the white rabbit said to me?

“Forgive yourself, your family, your friends.”

Fox-Bremen tensed, and the scene slowed. He tried to rush forward, but was unable to get his feet out of the thickening snow. It felt deeper and threatened to pull both of us into a frozen embrace. It was happening again. My past-self was still angry. He hadn’t accepted his fate, hadn’t forgiven himself or Twitch. I wasn’t sure if I had either.

“Wake up!” I ordered. Hopefully, the vision would be disrupted long enough for me to do something.

My old self closed his eyes. The scene slowed more as he remembered his body and Sylvia shook him awake. Twitch’s descent into Konal’s maw stopped as the fox faded into the real world. I took a breath and forgave myself and Twitch again. At last, the snow let go of my legs.

I leapt. For jumping, few animals are better than rabbits. Despite the distance, I collided with Twitch, knocking him away from Konal’s jaws.

As the scene started to move again, Twitch and I hit the snow, unyielding and slick, like ice. I managed to catch a claw in it as we bounced, and we slowed and stopped away from Rebel, who was still trying to get back on his feet. I stepped away from Twitch.

“Konal!” I shouted. “I’m the only way to save your brother!”

He growled as proper motion resumed. “Killing you is the only way!”

I ran, and I let Konal follow.

No matter how the vision distorted them, it was built from my memories. There was one escape route I’d run since I was a kit, and the vision took its shape easily. The stream north of Hazelford, where the river passed quickly. The single rock in the middle, a comfortable bound into the water. It was timeless, a mixture of every time I made that double-hop.

Mere lengths ahead of Konal, I leapt off the bank and onto the rock. Konal, in his rush, filled with the power of the vision, went to jump the stream in one bound. Just as he should. Just like every predator wished they had done instead of going for that rock.

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Had I thought of escape, it would have caught me. Instead, I dug my claws into my river perch. Dig my front claws in to stop me from moving forward, tense my back leg, coil like a snake ready to strike. And a gentle hop with my other leg, to snap my whole body into a kick.

It was the memory of every time I’d used that move. The seasons of practice, snapping Upset’s jaw on itself, knocking a hawk out of the air as I struck his head as he dove, and unfortunately, hitting the unmovable Chimera. It was enough.

Konal yipped in surprise and we both tumbled into the rushing stream. We crashed through a thin layer of ice and into the frigid water that almost claimed my life when I was young. The cold bit our limbs and we were dragged helpless where the memories took us.

The current crashed us into flashes of my past: my first fall down a cliff; when I was dropped by a hawk; Chimera biting my shoulder, leaving red in the frigid water. I managed to get myself upright, but I couldn’t get out; the ice was too thick.

Jaws broke through from above and caught my shoulder. The blood trail tried to pull me back, and the joint popped out of place as Rebel pulled me from the stream. I collapsed, choking up water.

“Are you okay?” Rebel asked.

“Sorta.” I coughed. My lungs hurt, but that was fading. The cold clung to me and my shoulder was still bleeding, still with that cursed trail ending at Konal. I could feel him being pulled away, but once he got past the ice, he’d be back.

“How can we beat that?” Twitch asked, looking over my shoulder. “We can come up with any trick we want and it won’t be enough. Maybe we could fake your death?”

Rebel shook his head. “The wound connects you. So long as that exists, Konal will know you aren’t really dead.” He sniffed at the blood trail. “It’s part of this vision. We can’t cover it up.”

“I know,” I said. “I have to give him my body and hope that Russet can convince him to help.”

Twitch studied my face and my ears before pulling on my foreleg and painfully fixing the joint.

“You’re not ready.” Rebel walked around me. “You believe in your father’s teachings, but they are only that. Your father’s, not yours. You’ve forgiven yourself for one thing that happened, but the other is still a rift. You still have enemies.”

“That’s a trick I can do,” Twitch said. “If I am Death’s paw, his messenger, then I will bring my own message.”

Almost in response, the trail of blood started to widen. Konal must have gotten free of the stream. He was on his way back.

“Brother...” Twitch took a few steps. “I think I can see it. My memories of the day before I left. Of my last talk with my father.”

Wylding’s burrow almost flowed from the ground. A dark, cozy hollow, gifted by a rabbit instead of taken by predation. We observed a younger Twitch lamenting to his father.

“That’s why I need to leave,” the young Twitch said. “He doesn’t want me. I mean nothing to him.”

“Son, that’s not true,” Wylding said. “He’ll always be your friend. He’d give his life for you.”

“But he won’t have feelings for me.”

I wanted to object, but he was right. I didn’t see him that way. I couldn’t be what he needed.

The old weasel sighed and shook his head. “No, he won’t. It is a shame that not all love is felt by both involved, but such is the way of the world. I stayed here for my great love.”

“Mom?” Twitch asked. “But she left.”

“Your mother and I were not interested in staying together. We both wanted children. When we had some, she took your sisters and you stayed with me.” Wylding sat back. “No, my love has always been for Blackfeather.”

As far as I knew, uncle Wylding had never told my dad about this. I certainly didn’t know it.

“Blackfeather never saw me as a predator. He only saw someone with the potential to tell stories like he could. The first predator to join his order. I almost mistook that for love.” Wylding sighed again, and his ears flattened with memories of pain. “I guess it was easier for me to accept he’d never feel the same. I mean, we met while he was courting Sundew, so that was clear.”

“But,” the young Twitch objected, “Bremen isn’t... He doesn’t have someone else. He just doesn’t want me.”

“You should talk to him before you go,” Wylding said.

“I can’t.”

“But–”

“I can’t,” Twitch repeated. “He’ll ask me to stay, and then I’ll never be able to leave. I can’t live my life waiting for him when we both know he won’t change.”

“Are you sure?”

“I need time to think. To accept that what I want, he can’t give me. Maybe find someone else?” The young Twitch curled up on the ground. “But if I talk to him, I’ll stay... and I’ll tell him I’m okay and I’m happy, and I won’t be.”

“I’m sorry,” both Wylding and I said together. I let the memory of Twitch’s father continue.

Wylding nudged his son. “I raised you to be a talker, to be friends with prey. I knew it was possible that you might fall in love with one. But... I guess you are too like me. We both love what we cannot have.”

“Dad,” the young Twitch asked, “how can you be happy like that?”

“I just am. Blackfeather is in my life, and the possibility of having him as a mate wasn’t as important to me.” He frowned and gave the young weasel another nudge. “But, that’s me. You are different and that’s okay. If this isn’t where you want to end up, there’s no shame in that. There is no judgment; you are simply not me.”

I watched in silence. The pain I felt at Twitch leaving without word vanished completely with the reason revealed. Maybe I wouldn’t have asked him to stay if we talked, but that was just wishful thinking. Maybe I could have given him the freedom to find his own path, but even at the start of my journey to Foxvale, I did not have the strength to let go of my brother.

“My father was hurt by his choice to stay and I didn’t want that for myself.” Twitch, the older Twitch, leaned into my side. “I should have said something, but I didn’t have the strength. That’s why I talked to Russet about what happened, so maybe he could explain it to you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I managed to say.

The burrow began to shake, with digging sounds getting closer. Rebel looked around. “He’s here.” I briefly wondered how the young wolf fit in Wylding’s burrow, but let it go as a dream. The walls peeled back like the leaves of a briar, as Konal’s claws tore the memory apart.

Rebel bit one of Konal’s paws, causing the digging to hesitate. “I know where we need to go.”

We ran away from Konal, but he followed close.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“I didn’t bite an enemy,” Rebel said as we fled. “I was protecting you. If you strike him, that must be why.”

I let it drop and called back, “Where are we going?”

“His worst fear.” Rebel skidded to a halt in the snow.

Before us, one of Konal’s memories took shape. His old self was injured, Regent’s bite fresh on his rear haunch. He limped back to the snow-covered burrow the four of them were living in.

The older Konal saw this and stopped. “No.”

Fang came out. “Brother? Brother!” before bounding up to the memory of Konal.

The scene shifted. We were in the burrow as Talus examined the wound. The trail of blood from it led right to my shoulder. Was Konal overcome by the memory? Had he merged with it?

Konal, current and past as one, asked, “Will it heal?”

Talus shook her head. “No. The leg will be crippled.”

Chiron was silent, with a look of pity on his face.

The shame gnawed at me—at Konal. That sweet, adorable face with ears flattened in mock distress hurt more than the bite. The young fox Konal had taken in along with Talus, that Konal had shown compassion for, who Konal attempted to console after whatever happened between Chiron and the warren, Konal watched his eyes harden.

“Who can’t keep up now?” Chiron asked before storming out.

“Wait...” Konal forced himself onto his three good legs and hobbled out of the den.

I watched them go and shuddered. “Twitch, would you have looked like that if we talked?”

“I don’t think you would have said something that mean to me,” Twitch responded. “But, maybe a little.”

“I’m sorry I was upset that you left,” I said. “Thank you for—I guess we didn’t talk, but you know what I mean. Thank you for showing me your reasons.”

“Talkers are supposed to be reborn as prey.” Twitch licked my ears. “Maybe I’ll find someone in my next life?”

Rebel gave a trickster-grin. “Maybe you both will.” He stood up. “Bremen, here you are both predator and prey. You get to be a rabbit, while remembering what it’s like to be a fox. That’s why you are here, because you can empathize with him.”

“I think I understand,” I said. “Let’s get you both out of here before Konal comes to his senses.”

“Thank you. We can leave from where Twitch entered.” Rebel leaned over and lapped my head. “I look forward to meeting your father and you. When you see me again, remind me of this. I’ve waited a long time to talk with you about this.”

“I will.”

With that, we quickly made our way back to Twitch’s abandoned burrow. The snow slowly drifted down as we traveled. Even though Rebel was there, it felt like finally returning home with my brother, who had forgiven me for driving him away. The burrow, once again, had a large central chamber, with the small side kettle where my physical body was sleeping. Across from that was where Russet had told his story and a dark place that beckoned.

“Will you be okay?” I asked Rebel.

“Death and I are on good terms,” the wolf said. “He’s been helping me find dying animals when I hunt, so I don’t have to kill. I think he’ll let me pass.”

With that, Rebel headed into the dark, almost swallowed by the wall.

One final time, I butted my head against my brother’s chest. “Thank you. I will tell Russet about this, and I will never forget.”

Twitch thought about it, then playfully nipped my ear. “My father joined Blackfeather out of friendship and love. Treating a weasel as a friend cost Blackfeather the respect of the watch-rabbits, and cost my father his place in weasel society. Neither would choose differently. Being your friend cost me my ability to hunt, and yes, it cost me my life. Even now, I would choose no other path.” Twitch gave me a nod. “Remember what I said. I am proud to have lived in your world. Nice to see you remain there.”

My father had no enemies. That wasn’t luck or fortune. It was a choice he paid for every day. Forgiving Konal was not forgiving an enemy. It was discovering the friend who was lost. It was time to get Konal out of this vision.

“Though friends may die by fang and claw, the warren lives on through hope and stories,” I responded. “The world lives on. My friends will live on. Though I may die, I have to attempt to reach him.”

We held each other from when the tears came until they passed. My shoulder ached, and the blood trail was growing again. Konal was approaching.

With one last nudge against me, Twitch stepped into the dark place and was gone. A few more tears flowed; I didn’t want Twitch to be dead. Regardless, the time had come to talk to my new friend.

I left the dream-burrow. The blood on the snow made a clear trail. Konal wanted me to follow. To find him. The vision didn’t seem as hostile as before. My anger was gone. Only a little fear remained. I decided to meet him in the bramble-ring where storytellers gather, where the storyteller reunion would begin in the morning.

He was waiting for me when I broke through the briar into the center.

“There’s no seer left to save you; these brambles will not hide you.” Konal snarled, “Run, little rabbit.”

I did not run.

“I’m here to help you.” I stood tall on my hind legs. The fear I had carried forgotten. Konal was not my enemy; he was my best ally against Chimera.

Konal paused at my confidence.

For the first time, I noticed that despite the cold, my breath was not visible. Strange what you see when it’s your time. “You need to know what’s happening and how we can stop Chimera.”

“With a creature as pathetic as you?” He shook his head. “A rabbit, nothing more.”

“I am done fighting you.” My ears flicked forward. I settled slightly, tensed to move if needed.

Konal lunged forward. So fast. Somehow, I jumped to the side in time.

“We can stop him if we work together,” I pleaded.

“You have accepted your fate?” Konal laughed. “How will you help if you can’t stop me here?”

One of my ears flicked at that. “If I defeat you, will you help me against Chimera?”

“Sure...” More laughter from Konal. “No matter. You can’t beat me. Not by force and certainly not by talking. You may have slowed me down, but my power here is limited only by my imagination.”

That was it. An opportunity I was finally ready to see.

“A real storyteller can use someone’s imagination against them. Yet, without enemies, why would one want to?” I laughed, beyond fear, anger, or regret. The shadow that my father cast over my life was gone. Ironic, given this was exactly something he’d do. “Thank you Konal. Thank you for the chance to see my brother again. I will repay you.”

I was finally ready to make my own story.

“No more tricks!” Snarling, Konal loomed over me. He was every painful memory, every loss, every time I failed. The vision warped; Konal cut off all light and replaced the familiar with nightmares. A mountain sized maw opened, rage and despair within.

I simply looked up and smiled. Not a predator’s grin; no, I was his prey.