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Stormchaser and the Silver Mist

Page 8

by Belinda Rapley


  Suddenly Phantom’s hooves clattered off grass and onto a firm track. As they careered along it, they flew into another mist patch. Charlie began to dread where the path might be taking her. She felt a cold sweat break out on her face. There was only one place in the Abbey grounds she did not want to be, one place that could spell instant death for Phantom…

  They flew out of the disintegrating pocket of mist, and instantly Charlie could see what she and Phantom were bearing down on with every stride. Charlie’s breath caught in her throat, and for a couple of strides she was frozen with fear. She didn’t know how close the others were behind her, or if their ponies were bolting too. She had to warn them, but the words got stuck in her throat. Then, at the last second, she managed to squeeze them out.

  “CATTLE GRID!”

  Just after the gun shot, Wish’s sensible nature had deserted her, and she had flown up the track like the devil was on her tail. Mia tried to get her mare back under some kind of control. But Wish had fought for her head, bunny hopping and launching herself into the air in protest. They were nearly at the end of the track, facing the new hedge before Wish finally steadied and began to calm down, even if she was still travelling at a speedy canter. Phantom, swifter than the wind, disappeared in front of her, but Mia knew that if she could slow Wish, Alice and Rosie would have more chance of getting their ponies under control, too. After she’d managed to cling on as Wish swerved violently at the hedge, she dared risk a glance over her shoulder.

  “Are you two okay?” she called out. She glimpsed Alice just behind her, struggling with a headstrong Scout, and Rosie grimly hanging on for dear life to Dancer’s mane. Dancer was throwing up great clods of earth with her pounding hooves; her head was low, her ears flat back to her neck, her eyes goggling.

  Rosie and Alice called out that they were all right. Mia was relieved they were both still on board, but she couldn’t be so sure about Charlie. Then she heard her friend yell, “Cattle grid!” and she felt her blood freeze in her veins. Cattle grids were death traps for horses. Mia passed the warning back to Rosie and Alice, then sat deep into her saddle and used all her strength to pull Wish up. Scout and Dancer almost crashed into the back of her, but it worked, and they all slowed. Then all they could do was sit and watch in horror as the pockets of mist on the path in front of them finally lifted and ahead, Phantom steered a runaway path directly towards the hideous, metallic trap.

  Charlie saw the broad, deep hole with its metallic frame, rushing up to greet her. Across the frame ran thick, solid metal poles. It was designed to stop cattle from leaving the estate grounds. But at the speed they were going, if Phantom didn’t see it, his front legs would plunge straight down between the gaps. Their momentum and the weight of Phantom’s body would carry him onwards, snapping his legs in an instant. It was as if everything were happening to someone else, not her.

  Charlie felt fear grip her throat. Phantom had been through so much in his short life. She’d nearly lost him once before, and she wasn’t about lose him now. The trouble was, she also knew there was no way she could stop Phantom in time. So Charlie did the one thing that might just save him. She sat down in the saddle and kicked for all she was worth, lifting her reins at the same time, crying, “Hup!”

  The black horse’s ears flickered. Then with a grunt, he was soaring into the air. Charlie tucked in close to him, not wanting for a second to unbalance her horse, or bring him down to earth before it was safe. She glanced down and saw the ugly dark hole with its great metal bars flash beneath her. Phantom arced powerfully, as if suddenly spooking from the danger beneath him. Then Charlie felt his front legs flick out, ready for landing. She desperately hoped it was far enough. She prepared herself for the jolt, and got it, almost bouncing out of the saddle as Phantom touched down on the dirt track the other side. He tipped onto his nose and scrabbled forward with his hind legs, desperately trying to get them underneath him. Charlie sat back to help as much as she could, and as soon as he recovered, Charlie squeezed on her reins. Phantom finally listened, all his fight evaporated and he skidded to a halt. Charlie felt her eyes blur, overcome by what had almost been. Without wasting a second, she turned to look for her friends.

  She was just in time to see them drag their ponies to a halt on the other side of the grid. Finally, Charlie let out a long, shaky breath; her fingers were trembling like crazy on the reins. Her legs felt like jelly. For a moment they all sat where they were, unable to speak.

  Mia collected herself, and called over to Charlie. “We’re going to find a way over to you a bit further up.”

  Charlie nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak just yet, as tears of shock were suddenly welling in her eyes. She and Phantom were now standing on a lane outside the Abbey grounds, on one side of a stout hedge. There was an area further along where the hedge was a bit smaller, and the others popped their ponies over from an active trot. Even Dancer didn’t think twice – she was so pumped that she flew straight over.

  Once they were all on the lane, they rode over to where Charlie and Phantom were waiting. Charlie leant forward and hugged her horse around his hot neck, feeling utterly grateful that he was alive. The other three ponies were dark with sweat, and still twitchy.

  “Did anyone see Mr Pyke?” Charlie whispered. “I can’t believe he’d actually shoot at us like that – he must be mad! I feel like riding back in there and telling him as much, too!”

  Mia could tell that, as brave as Charlie might sound, she wasn’t really in the mood for going back into the Abbey grounds. Especially not to confront Mr Pyke.

  “Well, it’s not the first time he’s taken a pot shot, is it?” Alice reminded them, shakily.

  The others nodded, wondering how anyone could be so reckless.

  “Come on, we’d better get the ponies back,” Mia said. She meant it as much for her friends, as well as the ponies. She could see how pale the girls all looked, and knew that she must look exactly the same.

  “Okay,” Rosie puffed, her breath still coming in shallow gasps, “but we need to go to the village shop first.”

  The others stared at her, wondering if the fright had turned her a bit peculiar.

  “What on earth do you want to go there for?” Charlie asked, wanting to get home, and see Phantom safely tucked up.

  “I want to go there,” Rosie said, her jaw set, looking determined, “because I think we should sign that petition against the Abbey, and I think we should sign it now.”

  Rosie stepped into the shop just before it closed. She fished about in her pocket to see if she had any change hiding somewhere in the depths of her jods. She was convinced, as she walked up to the noticeboard to look for the petition, that some chocolate would settle her shaken nerves very nicely She’d left Alice holding Dancer. Her pony had tired quickly after her exertions, and was standing with her muzzle dramatically low, almost touching the floor. Dancer’s eyes were still goggly, but as Rosie disappeared inside the village shop with a ping of the door, the little pony was busy lapping up all the sympathetic pats she was getting from the other three girls.

  Rosie found just enough change to buy a bar of fudge. She had planned to have a bite and share the rest with the others. Only, with Rosie distracted by the noticeboard, the fudge had disappeared bite by bite without her realising. She had found the petition and borrowed a pen from Mrs Gleeson behind the counter. Rosie flipped over the first, completely filled page, and added her and her three friends’ names at the top of the next. Then she began to scan the first page to see who else had signed. Suddenly her eyes almost popped out of her head. She dropped the pen, started to choke on the last mouthful of fudge, and rushed to the door.

  “You… you…” Rosie gulped and coughed and spluttered. “You’ll never… believe… this! You… have… to see it!”

  Rosie dashed back inside the shop, leaving the others staring, mystified, at each other.

  “I’ll wait with the ponies,” Charlie offered, not wanting to leave Phantom. “You two go
in and see what Rosie’s on about.”

  Mia and Alice jumped down, wincing with pain as they landed on frozen feet.

  “This had better be worth it,” Alice said, hobbling into the shop. Charlie stood, peering through the window, while holding all four sets of reins. The others were only inside for a few moments, before they crashed out of the door again.

  “You’ll never guess what,” Alice said, taking Scout’s reins and jumping back into the saddle.

  “Just tell me!” Charlie said impatiently, handing the others back their reins and mounting again. She hated being the last to know news.

  “There are loads of names on the petition,” Mia filled her in, as she and Rosie jumped up and the four ponies started to walk the short distance home. “But, starting from the top, the first is Long Lane Livery…”

  “The next is Mrs Maplethorp,” Alice continued.

  Charlie started. “So, the first two the people who’ve objected to the Abbey shutting off their rides have ended up with their ponies being let loose! It’s like it’s some kind of revenge or something!”

  “And wait for it,” Rosie pressed on. “The third name on the list is—” But Rosie didn’t get a chance to finish.

  “Don’t tell me,” Charlie jumped in, “it’s Mrs Greenfield, from Greenfield’s Riding School.”

  “Got it in one!” Rosie said, all fired up.

  “So who signed the petition next, then?” Charlie asked, as the ponies pricked their ears and lengthened their stride, recognising that they were on their way home.

  The others looked at each other, then at Charlie.

  “Fran Hope,” Alice said.

  They all thought about the ragged collection of animals up at Hope Farm, every single one of them dear to Fran’s heart. But for Charlie, there was one animal that was dearer than all the rest. Pirate. Her beloved first pony, whose paddock at Hope Farm sat right alongside the road…

  BY the time the girls got back to the yard that afternoon, the chilly darkness was already closing in. The four friends were still a bit shaken from what had happened at the Abbey, but there was no time to sit down. They led their weary ponies into the stables, and untacked, groomed and checked them thoroughly for injuries.

  All Charlie wanted to do was collapse, but she knew that Phantom was her first priority. Although it was cold, Charlie stood Phantom in the yard and hosed his lower legs down with cool water. She ran her hands down them, relieved that the hard tendons down the back of his cannon bones were not showing any lumps or swellings. Then she dried his legs off, and wrapped them in stable bandages.

  Each of them rugged up their ponies extra cosily, then lugged stuffed haynets into their stables. While the ponies tucked in gratefully, the girls turned on the yard lights, and made up the feeds. They took them back to the stables, and left the ponies to finish eating in peace.

  Next, it was Cracker and Frostie’s turn. The girls made up more feeds, then trudged over the sheep field in the almost darkness. As they appeared by the rickety wooden railings the two horses whickered and trotted up to meet them, ears pricked. They nose dived into the buckets, eating alongside each other companionably, raising their heads to chew and have a relaxed look round.

  “As soon as we get back to the yard,” Alice said, “we’d better ring Fran. We need to warn her about the names on the petition list.”

  The others agreed, as they stood watching the two horses chomp their feed contentedly. Charlie stood, resting one gloved hand on Cracker’s stocky neck. She could feel that he was toasty and warm in his rugs. Once Cracker had finished, Charlie bent down and scooped the last morsels of food from the curve of the feed bucket, and swished it into the middle. Cracker nudged her hand out of the way, and greedily lipped the last few mouthfuls.

  “I know it might sound horrible,” Charlie said, “but I don’t want these two to go to Fran’s now, not if there’s any chance that Hope Farm might be targeted next by the Abbey, or Billy at least. I’d hate for anything to happen to either of them.”

  “Me too,” Rosie agreed, quickly. “Can’t we ask Fran if they can stay here? I can see if Dad can fix that spare stable.”

  But Mia, forever the sensible one, shook her head. “That stable won’t get mended overnight,” she pointed out, “and this field is seriously insecure. All we can do is let Fran know what we suspect, don’t you think?”

  The others agreed, reluctantly.

  Mr Honeycott had been out and topped up the horses’ hay and water earlier in the day, so after the girls had hugged the horses goodnight, they headed back to the yard. By now, it was dark, and the Christmas lanterns flickered and the tinsel sparkled under the bright stable lights. But instead of heading towards the stables, the girls made their way to the hay barn. They picked out their way by torchlight and bundled in, climbing the ladder into the loft. The barn sat just behind the stables, overlooking the paddocks. From there, they could just about hear their ponies when they snorted, or stomped a hoof.

  The Pony Detectives snuggled down amongst the hay bales. Rosie had sneaked some freshly made cinnamon rolls from the farmhouse kitchen, and as they huddled together and ate, they finally started to warm up. There was a sudden pitter patter of light footsteps and Rosie flashed the torch round in the dark. Pumpkin’s green eyes blazed, and he meowed as he headed over, looking for a toasty lap to curl up on. He chose Rosie’s. She wrapped the blanket around him, as well as herself, tucking it under his chin.

  Charlie held the torch as Mia pulled out her phone. Mia’s fingers were almost too frozen to activate the screen, but she managed to tap in Fran’s number and press Call. Then she put her phone on speaker and gave Fran an update. She didn’t mention that they’d sneaked into the Abbey grounds, and had the fright of their lives, or overheard Billy and Archie’s argument. But Fran didn’t sound overly convinced by the connection the girls were making between the petition list and the horses being let loose.

  “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Fran sighed. “Although… the local gossip is that Billy Pyke might be involved with what happened at Greenfields last night. According to some, he’s done this kind of thing before… Anyway, I will keep an extra eye out, petition list or no petition list. Luckily we’ve got enough barns here to move all the horses and ponies into them overnight. The weather’s so bitter at the moment that I was half thinking about doing that anyway. It’s more work, but I don’t think the horses will mind too much.”

  Mia felt an instant flood of relief, knowing that if the horses at Hope Farm were kept in overnight, they’d be safe.

  “Now, about this Friday,” Fran continued. “My lorry’s being serviced at the garage, so I’ll have to lead Cracker and Frostie in hand. Fancy helping?”

  “Of course we will,” Mia said. Even though she was happier that Cracker and Frostie wouldn’t be out in the fields at their new home, she still couldn’t quite manage to feel happy about them going. It already felt like Blackberry Farm would be too quiet without them. But she also knew that the horses couldn’t stay on the common land forever.

  “Perfect,” Fran said. “In that case I’ll see you this Friday at 10 a.m. And try not to worry about Pirate, or the other horses. Like I said, I’ve got eyes all over the place at the moment, believe me.”

  After Mia ended the call, she grabbed her notebook from under one of the hay bales. She slid out a pen, which she kept pushed down inside the notebook’s spiral binding wire, and removed the lid.

  “So, we’ve got three mysteries,” Mia recapped, running her finger over the clues already written on the page. “The first is Cracker and Frostie.”

  “And all we’ve got on that is the half a footprint clue,” Rosie said, reading over Mia’s shoulder. “And a tyre track.”

  “And the fact that someone dumped them in the middle of the night,” Charlie added.

  “Then there’s the mystery of the horses escaping from Long Lane, Mrs Maplethorp’s and Greenfields,” Alice said.

  All the girls brighte
ned at mention of this one, because there was more to go on. Mia flattened out the newspaper article on the hay bale in front of them, which had reported Mrs Maplethorp’s ponies getting out of their paddocks.

  “A powerful motorbike’s been heard at each place where ponies have been set loose,” Charlie said. “And we found out today that Billy’s got a motorbike.”

  “On top of that, Billy’s got a history of doing this kind of stuff, too,” Alice added, “according to Mr Perryvale’s hints, at least, and local gossip.”

  “And we know Archie found something at Greenfield’s Riding School, in the grass right next to the field where the ponies were let out,” Mia said, scribbling down notes. “We just don’t know what. But I bet it was something that pointed towards Billy being guilty, judging by Archie’s reaction.”

  “And Billy wanted Archie to keep something a secret from Nick and Mr Pyke,” Alice said, “which makes it sound like Billy’s acting without their help.”

  “Although half the village seem to be pinning the blame on Billy,” Charlie added. “So I don’t really see how he could keep it a secret from Nick for long.”

  “Don’t forget that the owners of each place that has been targeted so far have signed a petition to get rides at the Abbey reopened,” Rosie continued, playing with Pumpkin’s soft ears. “So, that points the finger of blame directly at someone from the Abbey. Add that to our other clues, and that someone has to be Billy.”

  Charlie nodded. “We all heard Billy saying to Archie that he couldn’t afford to let the Abbey polo club fail. Maybe he’s trying to scare everyone into dropping the petition so they leave the Abbey alone.”

  Mia paused for a second in her writing. “But that doesn’t actually add up, does it?” she said, scratching the tip of her nose with the end of the pen. “Frightening everyone on that petition list is not the way to increase the club’s popularity round here.”

 

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