Wind Rider

by P. C. Cast

  “Well, thank you, but that is far from a sure thing. I’m just glad we have a year and a half more to prepare. The Stallion Run and the Mare Test are being held the same year—aren’t you glad for more time as well?”

  Clayton shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know, sometimes I’m glad—because preparing is good. The Run is tough, and no telling how many incredible stallions and Riders will enter, but there’s something to be said for getting it over with, too.”

  “I definitely know what you mean,” River said.

  “So, what’s this mission you and Anjo are on?”

  “It’s about communication. We awakened quartz crystals today. You know they’re a stone of communication, right?”

  He nodded and smiled. “I do. I’ve been studying crystals. I figured understanding them will help me when I’m Rider of our Herd Stallion.”

  His eyes seemed to burn into River at the unsaid rest of his thought, which she guessed had something to do with mating with the Rider of the Lead Mare—though that was absolutely not a given, even should he and Bard win the Run. Sure, some Lead Riders of the Herd’s Mare and Stallion did become mates, but definitely not all of them. River’s father was Rider of Herd Cinnabar’s Lead Stallion, and different men had fathered each of her three sisters—with only her youngest sister being the offspring of their current Herd Stallion Rider, Jasper. Dawn often said that she liked to change her men with the seasons, which was more than fine with her daughters.

  “That’s a good idea,” River said, motioning for Anjo to kneel so she could mount her. “I think more males should understand the properties of crystals. It doesn’t matter that they can’t awaken them—it’s good knowledge to have, especially in a Herd of Crystal Seers.”

  “As usual, you and I agree.”

  River raised her brows at him, but decided that arguing with him was pointless, especially as she and Clayton did agree on many things—just not on their mutual attraction.

  “Well? Can I help you with your mission?” he asked.

  “No, but thank you. This is a solitary mission that Anjo and I have to conquer together.”

  “Aren’t they all with you two?”

  Clayton’s voice was light, as if he were kidding around with her, but River saw the truth in his eyes, and this time instead of looking sad or disappointed, he looked annoyed and angry.

  She met his gaze steadily from astride Anjo’s back. “No, they aren’t. Every day I do things with the Herd. Yesterday Anjo and I helped teach the children how to dress a horse’s mane with ribbons. This morning Anjo and I partnered with Luce and Blue to teach the sunrise Flow class. I’m not a hermit, and there’s nothing wrong with me needing and wanting alone time with my filly.”

  “Hey, whoa, I was just kidding. No need to snap at me.” He raised his hands in surrender.

  “Oh, horseshit, Clayton. Don’t hide your true feelings like that. You’re mad. That’s easy to see. And you have no reason to be. I’m being myself. I’ll always be myself. I love our Herd. I care about the people and the horses, and someday—if Anjo and I are judged worthy—I want to be the best Lead Mare Rider I can be for everyone. Nowhere in my life is there time for passive-aggressive crap and game playing.”

  Clayton’s eyes blazed with anger. “Why do you always insult me?”

  “Why do you always try to push me into a relationship that I have been very clear about not wanting?”

  Without another word Clayton spun on his heels and stomped away, with Bard trotting behind him.

  River sighed and said aloud, “I’m going to have to do something about him. It’s been six months since he returned from Herd Cinnabar—six whole months since I told him clearly that I’m not into him like that. And it’s not like we were lovers before he left and I suddenly changed. I’ve always made it clear that I am not interested in mating with him. He’s just not listening.”

  Anjo snorted and tossed her head fretfully, sending worry to her Rider, along with a mental picture of Clayton—face red, punching a tree.

  River laughed. “Well, he’ll hurt his hand—that’s for sure. Come on, let’s go. There’s a stallion we need to find and, thankfully, he’s not bonded to Clayton.”

  River clucked to Anjo and turned the filly with the gentle pressure of her outside leg, and as soon as they were past the camp boundary she stepped up into a smooth canter. As she passed, she waved at a Watcher stallion—one of several Rider/stallion pairs who kept watch over the Herd, day and night. Then they headed away—away from the prying eyes of the Herd.

  It didn’t take long. It never did. How Ghost found them, River wasn’t sure, though she believed it had something to do with Anjo. It seemed the filly and the stallion had bonded and she somehow called to him, though River had never known of a psychic bond happening between two horses. Anjo and Ghost’s bond was so strong that the stallion had followed them from the Herd’s spring campgrounds north to their summer ground, and again east to the Ozark Plateau and their fall grounds. And River was certain Ghost would also follow them to the Quachita Mountains and the Valley of Vapors and the hot springs that kept them warm and safe, even in the most terrible of winters.

  Just thinking about winter had River shivering—and not for Anjo and herself. As the days grew shorter and colder, and the Herd prepared to move again, River was more and more concerned with what would happen to Ghost if he tried to weather the winter in the Quachita Mountains—outside the warmth of the Herd’s hot springs valley.

  The golden stallion galloped up to them, trumpeting a welcome which Anjo echoed, and River thought—not for the first time—how much she wished she could ask her mother’s advice about this mysterious stallion and his connection to Anjo, and to her. But she agreed with her filly—no one need know about Ghost. Not yet. The stigma of a Riderless horse and the belief that there must be something very wrong with him was just too great. What if the Herd decided he must be driven away? Or worse, euthanized?

  “Anjo and I won’t let that happen, and today I got help with how we can find an answer for what is going on with you, handsome.” Ghost had paused in his greeting of Anjo to lip River’s leg gently. Still astride her filly, she rubbed his wide forehead and automatically began combing her fingers through his tangled forelock. “This should be very interesting. I hope you’re open for a little, um, exploration.”

  The stallion nuzzled her and then started trying to mouth her saddlebag open, making River laugh.

  “Yes, I brought your carrots! I wouldn’t forget them.” River slid from Anjo’s back and opened the pack, offering the bunch of carrots, as well as a bag of hearty feed, to Ghost, who settled in to munch contentedly. As usual, River brought a helping of grain for Anjo, too, and her filly joined Ghost.

  While the two horses were eating, River prepared. This was something else she wished she could have asked her mother’s advice about, but as that wasn’t possible, she followed her intuition and used all of the knowledge she had already gained in her Crystal Seer classes.

  From her saddlebags she took out a blanket and spread it on the ground near the horses. Then she brought out a full skin of water, a narrow length of leather cord, and the two crystals she’d been guided by her intuition to bring—the quartz crystal she’d used earlier in class that day, and the amethyst phantom crystal Clayton had given her six months before, on the day Anjo had Chosen her as Rider.

  First, she washed the crystals, pouring clean water over them and then laying them on the blanket to dry. River had recharged both crystals the previous night during the full moon, before she had any idea she would be using the phantom stone.

  Then she sat cross-legged on the blanket and picked up the quartz crystal. “But you made me realize the answer to my question of what to do about Ghost could be found with him, or at least found with him if I had a crystal that could help show us the way.” River took the leather cord and wrapped it around the crystal, tying it tightly so that it wouldn’t slip, before knotting the cord and slipping it
over her neck, letting the clear stone rest against the skin between her breasts.

  She placed a hand over the stone, pressing it against her skin and feeling it warm as it awakened for her again. River spent several minutes focusing on the crystal. She didn’t lift it to her third eye—she was saving that place for the phantom crystal. It didn’t seem to matter anyway. Along with the crystal warming, she could feel her thoughts sharpening and the typical mental babble in her mind quieting.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when she noticed the horses had finished the carrots and the grain and were grazing lazily side by side. River called Anjo to her, and the filly trotted eagerly to River’s blanket.

  River concentrated on her connection with Anjo, and then she made the hand gesture that Anjo had been trained to recognize as asking her to lie down. Then she imagined Ghost lying beside her—the two of them facing River where she sat on the blanket.

  Anjo immediately did as River asked, buckling her legs and lying down. Then the filly tossed her head and nickered to Ghost, who was standing close by, watching with open curiosity. He was more hesitant, but eventually he folded his legs and, with a groan that had River smiling, lay beside Anjo, facing River.

  “Perfect,” River praised them. “This is exactly what I needed you two to do. Now, what comes next might be nothing—or it might be very crazy. I really have no idea. All I know is that earlier today the quartz crystal made me believe I could get the answer to what’s going on with Ghost by using the phantom crystal. So, here goes.”

  River wiped the nervous sweat from her palms and then picked up the beautiful phantom quartz. It was a warm, sunny fall day—probably one of the last of them—and the sunlight caught the amethyst phantom in the center of the crystal, turning it into a purple halo around the stone. River clasped it between her palms, just as she had done with the quartz crystal in class that day, lifted it to her third eye, and pressed the tip of it gently against her forehead. Within just a few heartbeats she felt the crystal warm and awaken. She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then spoke what had been in her heart on the ride to Ghost that day, which she hoped very much were the correct words.

  “Phantom quartz, I am River of Herd Magenti, Rider of Anjo and daughter of Echo’s Rider, Dawn. I need your aid today. This stallion, Ghost, has left our Herd, and I do not understand why. My desire is to help him, and in order to do that, I must understand him better. What is it he seeks? How may I help him?” River phrased the questions in the same way she had heard her mother query crystals to tap into their wisdom. “I wish only for his best, and for what is best for Herd Magenti, so I ask that you part the veil between the seen and unseen worlds, and bring me the knowledge I require. It has been said!” River concluded with the ritual words that all Herdmembers used to seal a promise or anything of great importance.

  Eyes closed, River waited—opening herself to the power of the phantom crystal.

  Heat shot into her head. It wasn’t painful, but it caused River to gasp in surprise. She closed her mouth and continued to concentrate, allowing the power of the crystal to guide her. River was filled with relief and an incredible sense of awe as images began to flash against her closed eyelids.

  A great ball of fire exploded into a forest, causing a ferocious blaze. Animals fled—though not away from the burning forest, but to it. River realized there was something wrong with the animals, even before the fire consumed them. They were obviously sick—stumbling, salivating, and showing signs of a toxic madness.

  Then the scene changed. She saw a huge wave of water, clear and beautiful. Riding the wave were a group of people, and with them were amazing animals that River recognized from drawings and descriptions passed from Herd to Herd as canines. Their eyes glowed the yellow of the sun, but not with anger—with strength and compassion. River was immediately drawn to them, so that she was shocked to her core when an enormous wall of dark blue water formed over the group of people and canines, threatening to drown them all.

  Suddenly the vision changed and they were on the Plains of the Wind Riders. River even thought she recognized Rendezvous Site near the edge of the Rock Mountains. The crystal wave the people and canines had been riding washed them against a huge, verdant tree whose trunk had grown in the shape of a naked woman, depositing them safely among her branches so that they looked like beautiful birds.

  And then Ghost was there! He stood before the tree, whinnying desperately as if calling for someone.

  River’s attention shifted from the stallion back to the tree as a second wave—the one that was sapphire colored and oozed darkness and danger—surged around the tree, battering the thick trunk as it tried to drown the people and canines.

  In the vision Ghost screamed a warning, rearing as if he would strike out with his hooves to fight the blue wave, but he could do nothing against its tsunami-like strength, and it consumed the tree and the land around it, turning what was green and thriving to death and destruction, though at the last moment a small bird burst from the tree, flying erratically straight at Ghost to collapse on the stallion’s back.

  River was intrigued by the bird. It was small and gray—and its wings fell limp against Ghost’s golden coat, exhausted and broken.

  River felt the stallion’s anger and despair. He must save the bird! But instead of running away, Ghost galloped straight for the tree, with the bird clinging tenuously to his back.

  The sapphire water surged around his flanks and Ghost swam, fighting the darkness that threatened to suck him under, and as the stallion fought the current the bird rallied, pulling itself upright and singing a song that reminded River of wind sloughing through the prairie grasses. As the bird sang, Ghost’s coat began to shine a brilliant gold, like fire, or the harnessed light of the sun—and the horrible water retreated from him, parting so that he could gallop to the base of the tree.

  With a mighty effort, the bird flew from his back into the branches of the tree, as a great, silver moon lifted into the sky, shining down on them. Under the silver light the sticky, dark water began to retreat into the ground while the tree drank it in, growing straighter, stronger, and the trunk that was a woman glistened silver with magick as the land recovered, turning green with life again.

  River gazed up into the branches of the tree to see that the people and their amazing canines hadn’t drowned, but were celebrating—clapping, singing, and howling in happiness.

  The little gray bird burst from the branches of the tree to rejoin Ghost. The moment she perched on the stallion’s back, the bird was healed. Then the two of them, the lonely stallion and the strange gray bird, turned to look directly at Anjo and River—and River was filled with such sublime love and joy that tears flowed down her cheeks, the words Yes! We belong together! echoing through her mind.

  Then the stone went cold and the vision ended. Shaking herself—mentally and physically—River opened her eyes to see the two horses staring at her.

  Anjo immediately nickered her concern and River went to her, stroking the filly’s neck and murmuring soothingly. Ghost lipped her shoulder and hair and River included him in her reassurances, telling both horses how special they were. When the three of them had calmed, River knew what she had to do.

  She concentrated on her connection with Anjo, but she faced Ghost, stroking the big stallion’s golden forehead.

  “You were there with us—with Anjo and me—weren’t you? You saw the vision, too.”

  Ghost went very still, turning his head so that he could meet River’s gaze.

  “I don’t understand it—not all of it—not yet. But what my intuition is telling me is that you must survive. Something good is coming, and so is something equally bad—and you’re part of defeating the bad, as well as welcoming the good. You cannot die this winter. You must rejoin the Herd.”

  River felt Anjo’s emotions—and the filly was in absolute agreement with her. Through their bond, she could feel that Anjo, too, was beseeching the stallion to come with them—t
o rejoin the Herd. And she could also feel Ghost’s resistance.

  The stallion feared returning to the Herd.

  “I understand,” River said somberly. “And I give you my oath as Anjo’s Rider that I will not let anyone harm you—ever. You were part of our Herd. You know my mother is Lead Mare Rider. She trusts me; I trust her. She will protect you, too.”

  With a great sigh of release, Ghost stepped forward, resting his head against River, and Anjo nickered her relief as the stallion gave in.

  * * *

  The return ride was joyous. After Ghost agreed to rejoin the Herd it was like he suddenly became a colt again—galloping and bucking around Anjo and River as if his worries, along with his loneliness, were gone.

  “Everyone is going to be so surprised!” River said, laughing as Anjo pranced, tail high. “Hey,” she whispered to her filly, and Anjo’s ears flicked back to catch her words. “Let’s play tag with him!”

  Anjo snorted and then sprinted toward Ghost, who had been bucking and kicking around them, and nipped his rump playfully before galloping off, with Ghost in pursuit.

  The game continued as they came to a stream. River used her legs to guide Anjo under the branches of a massive weeping willow, hoping that Ghost would gallop past them—but the stallion was on to them, and he stuck his head within the hanging boughs, nipping Anjo’s rump before he raced into the stream, splashing water everywhere.

  Anjo shot after him, but River was laughing so hard that the filly had to slow, especially as they headed into the stream, to keep her Rider from uncharacteristically sliding off her back.

  So, they were several lengths behind Ghost when they emerged from the water. Collecting herself, River fisted Anjo’s mane and gripped her tightly with her thighs.

  “Let’s get him!”

  That was all the encouragement the filly needed. She surged up the bank and galloped after Ghost.

  Then everything changed.

  A Rider burst from a clump of trees, giving chase to Ghost. Anjo startled, and River was so shocked to see anyone else that she slipped halfway off the filly’s back, causing Anjo to slow again to keep River from falling.