“Where were you going?” Anthea asked finally. “If we hadn’t caught you?”
“To Upper Stonesraugh,” Meg said. “Well, I was told to go to Lady Pellegrin in Camryn and see if Blossom could reach you from there. But I was going to go to the village instead.” She gave them a shy smile. “You and Jilly are supposed to come with me.”
“Back to Bell Hyde?”
“No.”
Meg went to her saddlebag and pulled something out. It was a small velvet bag. She tipped two shining things onto her palm and held them up.
“Like I said, my mother has decided that it’s time to stop dancing around my father and his tantrums,” Meg said grimly. “She has asked me to give you these.”
Anthea and Jilly leaned over to look. There were two shining gold brooches in Meg’s palm. They were U-shaped rosebuds, like the queen’s personal seal, but there was a horseshoe around each one, plain as could be. A single diamond was set in the tips of the rosebuds’ petals, like a drop of dew.
Meg straightened and cleared her throat, her arm still outstretched.
“Her Majesty Queen Josephine has asked me to invite you to travel to the cities of Coronam and read a letter from her, absolving horses of any part in the Dag. She wishes you to further instruct the people in the Way, and look for those who may have it.
“And it is her wish that you accept these brooches as a symbol of your new status, as the Queen’s Own Horse Maidens.”
20
HORSE MAIDENS AT LARGE
“They’re shooting at us!” Meg screamed.
They charged down the road, letting the horses have their heads.
“I’m going to shoot back!” Jilly shouted, turning in the saddle.
“Jilly, don’t!”
Anthea cried out in a panic as her cousin pulled her pistol out of her embroidered coat. She crouched low on Florian’s neck, waiting to feel the burning punch of a bullet entering her side again. Anthea whipped at Leonidas with the end of her reins. They had to get out of there before someone shot them—or, worse, before Jilly killed someone.
The townspeople followed them much farther than Anthea would have thought. At least they were on foot, not in motorcars, and soon they fell behind the three girls on their horses.
Anthea still kept them running as long as she dared, though. Just in case. Just to be sure. But the horses were tired already, and finally she signaled for them to slow to a walk. They had automatically gone north when they left the town, and now they came to another crossroads and Anthea pointed them north and west without asking.
“You should have let me shoot at them,” Jilly grumbled.
“How would that have helped?” Anthea asked.
“It would have made me feel better!”
“They shot at us,” Meg said. “They shot at me. I’m a princess, and they shot at me.”
“Last year some farmers shot Anthea so that they could keep Florian,” Jilly pointed out. “They didn’t even know what he was.”
“I remember when you came to Bell Hyde the first time,” Meg said. “I remember … I thought … did the hunters know you were a girl?”
“Yes, they did,” Anthea said shortly.
Anthea let them pore over the details of last year’s debacle as they continued to walk up the road. Meanwhile, she thought about what they had just done in the small town of Pickerton.
They had ridden into the center of town, gesturing for those who saw them to come along with them. In the middle of the town, where a large church overlooked a cobbled square, they had stopped and asked to see the mayor. He was already on his way, still weak from the Dag and leaning on the arm of his son. Most of the town looked as though they had been ill, or were exhausted from caring for the ill, but the sight of three girls on horses clopping down their streets had brought them all to the square.
The people stayed well clear of the horses. Some of them had their children hidden behind them, or were shoving them into the doors of houses and shops and telling them to stay put. Anthea uneasily noticed that there were far more men than women. Had the women died, or were they staying away?
“Good day to you all,” Jilly called out cheerily. “My name is Jillian Thornley, and I am one of Her Majesty Queen Josephine’s Horse Maidens!”
Gasps rang out. Jilly smiled even more broadly, but Anthea felt cold beneath her heavy coat. Those weren’t gasps of awe and amazement. Those were the gasps of respectable people being shocked and offended, a sound she knew all too well.
“Jilly,” Anthea whispered.
“I am Princess Margaret,” the princess said, urging Blossom forward. “I have here a letter from my mother, the queen—”
“How dare you!”
One of the few women there had shouted out. She had a red patch on one cheek of fresh scars from the Dag. There was a small boy half-hidden in her apron, but now she shoved him into the arms of the man beside her.
“How dare you use the name of our good queen this way?” The woman shook her fist at them. “How dare you use her name to come here and spread this filthy plague! Is it not enough that hundreds of us are dead? Do you have to kill the rest and defame the queen, too?”
That was when several of the men had pulled out guns. That was when the Pickerton constables had moved to the front of the crowd. When Meg had shrilly insisted that she was a princess, and someone had spat at her.
That was when Anthea, her heart in her throat, heard a memory of a gunshot and felt the ghost of a pain in her side. She spun her horse around, and began to ride, straight back the way they had come, straight out of that town.
The others followed her, and the townspeople followed them, and there were warning shots fired over their heads. They didn’t get a chance to show off their new brooches, or leave any medicine, or ask what else the people might need. They could only run, and keep running.
“Where to next?” Jilly asked as they stopped at a crossroads. She pulled a map out of her saddlebags and unfolded a portion.
“We’re going to Upper Stonesraugh,” Anthea said. Her heart was still hammering.
“Along the way we would hit quite a few towns,” Jilly said. She pulled a pencil out of her pocket and started to make notes.
“A few towns?” Meg sounded panicky. Blossom whickered and ramped sideways a little, sensing her rider’s mood. “How many is a few?”
“They won’t all be like this,” Jilly said breezily.
“They will,” Anthea said.
She rubbed Florian’s neck. Then she reached over and stroked Leonidas as well. Her heart broke a little. How could people not love these beautiful creatures on sight?
“My mother has done her work too well,” Anthea said. She didn’t add, “And so has your father,” not wanting to hurt Meg’s feelings.
Anthea felt a tear slip down her cheek.
Beloved.
I’m all right.
You are not.
I didn’t think it would still hurt so much.
“Well,” Jilly said, “what should we do? We have to press on!”
“To Upper Stonesraugh,” Anthea said, choking on the name because of the thickness in her throat.
Jilly looked at Anthea, her mouth open. “Are you crying?”
Anthea steeled herself for the teasing, but instead she looked over to see Jilly reining in Caesar, pulling him close to Florian. Jilly dropped her reins and threw her arms around Anthea.
“It will be okay,” Jilly said.
“It won’t,” Anthea said. “It just won’t! We’re going to fight this battle all our lives and we’ll never win.” She began to sob, huge ugly gasps, heaving into her cousin’s shoulder.
“Get down,” Jilly said. “We’ll fall!”
“Florian won’t let me,” Anthea hiccupped. “I can’t fall off Florian.”
I would never let you fall, Florian said, stung by Jilly’s words.
I am sure she only meant that I would make her topple off, Anthea said soothingly.
&nbs
p; Nevertheless, Anthea got herself together, and managed to sit up straight. She took out a handkerchief and mopped her face. Then she offered another to Jilly, whose coat was honestly so tightly fitted that Anthea wasn’t sure it still had pockets.
“Can … can we just go straight to my mother’s village?” Meg asked, turning Blossom in a tight, nervous circle. She seemed even more upset by Anthea’s weeping than she had been by being shot at.
“We really, really should,” Anthea said.
“Can’t we try even one more?” Jilly wheedled. “Just a tiny village?”
“We can’t,” Anthea decided.
She had been worrying about something the entire journey away from Upper Stonesraugh. She had been distracted by Meg joining them, distracted by the new Horse Maiden brooch that graced her coat. Distracted by their reception in Pickerton.
But she could not be distracted anymore.
“Finn has not sent a message,” she said. “At all. Nothing. No ‘all is well,’ or ‘I found an amazing book.’ Nothing. Nor has Caillin MacRennie.”
“We are very far away,” Meg said doubtfully. “Aren’t we?”
“Not too far for Constantine,” Anthea said. “They should have sent a message by now. He should have brought Constantine out of the standing stones to let us know they were all right.”
“Constantine?” Meg said in shock. “Finn brought Constantine south of the Wall again?”
“Well, your mother told him to,” Jilly said. She put her map away and turned Caesar toward the left-hand branch of the road.
“No she didn’t,” Meg said, turning Blossom to follow Caesar. “She never would have endangered Finn and Constantine.”
“I’ve seen the letter,” Jilly said. “She clearly said to ride Constantine there, and show him to the villagers.”
“No, in Thea’s letter she advised her to take Florian,” Meg argued. “So that the people could see how strong their bond was. But in Finn’s she said to leave the herd stallion home.”
“What letter?” Anthea pulled up. “She hasn’t sent me a letter since days before Finn was told about the village.”
“She showed me both,” Meg said, reining in Blossom and looking back at Anthea in confusion. “She sent them at the same time. She hadn’t gotten very many letters from you since the Dag spread so much; she thought you were just busy, but she never would have sent a letter to Finn and not to you, too.” Meg wrinkled her nose. “I’ve honestly been a little jealous of you, and Jilly,” she admitted.
Normally Anthea would have been flattered. Normally she would have rushed to reassure the younger girl. But she was frozen in place.
Beloved?
Someone stole my letters, my love. Someone changed Finn’s letter.
“We have to get to the Last Village right now,” Jilly said in a strangled voice.
21
THE FIRE BURNING
They were still a day’s ride from Upper Stonesraugh when it happened. Jilly was just telling Meg about Caillin MacRennie, and saying that they would soon be at the abandoned tower where they had left him.
“But has he checked in?” Meg asked.
“Yes,” Jilly said. “Until we went a little too far south.”
“But he hasn’t since we got closer,” Anthea said grimly. “I have been having Florian hail Brutus since last night, and he has no clue where Brutus is.”
“He’s probably gone to help Finn,” Jilly said.
That made them all fall silent. If Finn needed help, and Caillin MacRennie had gone to him … that was just confirmation that something was wrong, wasn’t it?
Suddenly the road rippled. Everything rippled, and Anthea heard a crash and a cry. She clutched tight to Florian’s neck. He stopped, all four legs braced.
Leonidas whinnied and half fell, half leaned into Florian, pressing Anthea’s leg painfully into the saddle. The other horses all stumbled or stopped dead, including Blossom. Meg slid unceremoniously off her mare and landed in a heap on the road with a small cry.
Anthea freed her leg so that she could dismount and help, even though Jilly was already on the ground and hurrying to tell Meg to get back up and remount. Anthea had one foot out of the stirrup and was swinging it over Florian’s rump when it hit her.
Help! She’s here! Quickly!
Anthea fell the rest of the way out of the saddle, but her left foot stayed in the stirrup. She landed hard on her back with her feet in the air, accidentally kicking Florian in the side with her flailing right leg.
He leaped forward, startled, and dragged her a little. Leonidas rushed to cut him off before he could drag Anthea very far.
“You fell, too?”
Jilly’s face was incredulous as she came around the two stallions and looked at Anthea. Then she freed Anthea’s foot from the stirrup and let it fall to the ground with a thud.
“Did you hear that?” Anthea whispered.
“What?” Jilly didn’t bother to whisper. “Everyone but me falling?”
“I need a leg up,” Meg said, still sounding out of breath.
Thea! Thea?
“Do you hear that?” Anthea demanded.
She lurched to her feet. Her heavy coat and leather gloves had prevented her from being scraped by the dragging, but she had grit and dirt in her already dirty hair, she was sure, and she was bruised and still a little winded.
But this took precedence: She could hear someone speaking to her through the Way. And she didn’t think it was a horse.
“Jilly.” Anthea grabbed her cousin’s arm. “Did. You. Hear. That?”
“I felt something, but I didn’t hear anything,” Jilly said. “It felt like an earthquake,” she added.
“An earthquake?” Meg squeaked. “I didn’t think we had those in Coronam!”
Beloved? It was not an earthquake, Florian said.
The Now King, Leonidas said, looking anxiously up the road. We must go!
Finn?
Anthea wasn’t sure whom she was talking to, the horses or the boy. She didn’t really care.
Finn? Finn!
“I’m going to boost you onto Florian,” Jilly announced. “We need to go, whatever is happening.”
Caillin MacRennie! Anthea called now.
She absentmindedly took the reins and let Jilly grab her leg and hoist her toward her saddle with much grunting. Florian dipped his shoulder and bent his knees and Anthea found herself more or less in the saddle. Jilly did the same thing for Meg, but Anthea was only vaguely aware of this. As soon as her rear end had hit the saddle, Florian was moving. She put her feet into the stirrups and adjusted her long coat as they walked up the road.
Leonidas’s lead line had come loose from Florian’s saddle, but he followed with his head at Anthea’s knee, his ears straining forward. Anthea reached out and grabbed his bridle, then gathered up the lead so that he wouldn’t trip on it. She unfastened it and shoved it into one of his saddlebags. Leonidas actually stopped and then hurried forward again, snorting.
You are a good and loyal stallion, Anthea told him. I know that you will follow me. And I know that you will run if I tell you to run.
Run?
To the north, to the farm, she told him. If the danger is too great, if we need to get a message to the farm, can you go alone?
I … I can.
Good, very good.
“We should do a gallop,” Jilly said.
They did. They walked and trotted and galloped as best they could without hurting the horses. When they passed the tower where Caillin MacRennie should have been, Anthea told them to keep going. She could not sense any horses except their own, and that meant that Caillin MacRennie was gone as well.
They stopped to eat, to feed the horses, and then they kept riding. It snowed a little, then rained, and they kept riding. They were all tired, but they knew they had to keep going, even though they hadn’t heard anything from Finn since those first cries.
Then they turned down the road to Upper Stonesraugh.
Florian started to gallop and Anthea did nothing to stop him. It was dark, the road was terrible, and they were exhausted and scared. But now they could all hear it.
Stop her!
What is happening?
Guard the king! Guard the king!
No good!
What is that?
Thea! Thea, run!
The words jumbled around in Anthea’s brain. Some were from horses, others from humans, but it was almost impossible to tell which was which. It was obvious that the horses, and the other girls, were hearing these things as well.
Meg looked like she might swoon, and Anthea sent a message to Blossom to fall back if she needed to keep her rider in the saddle. They had been riding so hard and so long that it was almost dawn again, and Anthea knew that they should stop and approach with greater caution, but one glance at Jilly told her that she wasn’t the only one anxious to keep moving. Anthea had never seen her cousin’s face look so serious, not even when Uncle Andrew had gotten sick with the Dag.
With the dawn coming on behind them, they reached the rim of standing stones and looked down on the destruction of the valley that held Upper Stonesraugh.
“What happened?” Jilly said in a hushed voice.
Constantine is not here, Florian said.
“The manor is on fire,” Anthea choked out. “Finn!”
Come quick! Finn’s voice shouted in Anthea’s mind. Past the manor! She’s taken Constantine! Your mother has Constantine!
22
A MONSTROUS MACHINE
They abandoned the packhorses, to follow as they could. Anthea had already freed Leonidas, so he just stayed alongside Florian, but Jilly had to stop and untie Buttercup, and Meg and Blossom were moving very slowly.
Or so it seemed to Anthea.
She and Florian were both tired, but they found the strength to race along the track that outlined the village, the same path they had used before, running along behind the cottages and the pigsties and the chicken coops. But this time there was a difference. This time there were people.
There were children hovering in doorways, as though they’d been told to stay inside but wanted to watch. There were women with their sleeves rolled back and their faces flushed despite the cold, with buckets in their hands. There was a pair of elderly men carrying a washtub between them so that they could use their canes.
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