by P. C. Cast
Spencer lunged for Jenna, wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist and pulling her backwards as one of the tentacles missed the girl’s arm, instead wrapping around her paddle and jerking it out of Jenna’s hand to pull it into its mouth.
“I got it!” Wilkes said, firing his bow into the water, but the arrow skittered off the creature’s wide head.
In one movement Nik stood, aimed, fired—and the arrow embedded itself in the feathers in the creature’s eye. The behemoth under the water exploded in an agony of movement, its thick black tail striking the canoe and causing it to tip precariously. Blood and gore poured from the creature’s eye, staining the water—calling to the Monkeys. They came like a school of deadly fish, slithering through the water slick and silent, closing on the dying Mouth and the boat.
Nik aimed and shot a Monkey through the forehead, causing the group to falter as they shrieked and chattered at one another—and then several stopped their projectile-like swim toward the fish and began tearing apart their fallen comrade.
“Paddle! Paddle! Get us out of here!” Nik shouted.
Mason, Jenna, Spencer, and even Wilkes grabbed paddles and bent their backs to stroking against the seething water. The little boat shot away from the convulsing body of the Mouth as the pack of Monkeys reached it.
Nik could only watch for a moment. Like they were a swarm that formed on water, they covered the fish and began reaching into its wounded eye with greedy, webbed fingers, pulling out great hunks of bloody goo. Gagging, Nik looked away. He put down his crossbow, picked up a paddle, and got the hell out of there.
* * *
That night, belly full of potato stew and blackberries, Nik pulled Mari into his arms. Flatrock was just that—a huge rock that lifted from the water. There was no vegetation on it except strange, scrubby bushes that looked more dead than alive, but he didn’t care. He was just glad the hardness he lay on wasn’t bobbing in the water.
“It was even more awful than you described, wasn’t it?” Mari murmured against his chest.
“It was horrible. I’m not sure which was worse, the Monkeys or the Mouth,” Nik said.
“Jenna’s still pretty shaken. Sora brewed cannabis tea for her—and Spencer and Mason. Are you sure you don’t want some?”
Nik tightened his arms around her. “You’re the best medicine I could have right now.” He sighed. “It’s hard for me to imagine being on this lake for another forty or more days, especially when making land between here and the other side means dealing with more of those creatures.”
“Well, Antreas says there are a few other spots we’re going to stop that are like Flatrock—where it isn’t possible for Monkeys to build their dens, so we don’t have to be worried about Mouths or Monkeys.” She snuggled into him. “We’ll make it, Nik. I know we will. Our Pack is strong, and getting stronger.” Mari lifted a little so that she could look into his eyes. “We’re going to have puppies!” And then her smile faded. “Wait, how long will Mariah be pregnant? Oh, Nik, please tell me that canine will not have to give birth in a boat.”
“She’ll carry the pups for about sixty days—give or take a week or so. It’s going to be close, but don’t worry. The Tribe has been watching over birthing canines for generations. If Mariah has to give birth in a boat, all will be well. Claudia will help her—and so will Rose.” Nik chuckled. “And Laru and I will help Davis and Cammy to not lose their minds. I think you’ll find that, like humans, birthing canines and the women who help them show a lot more sense about it than the men watching and waiting.”
“Those puppies are a great blessing,” Mari said.
“New life ushering in a new season for our Pack,” Nik agreed, kissing Mari on top of her head.
“Oh, that reminds me. Did you realize tomorrow is the last day of spring?”
Nik startled in surprise. “Wow, I’ve lost track of time. I had no idea summer was so close.”
“Yeah, me too. Antreas reminded us—and he also reminded us that we need to pick up the pace to be sure we get through the mountains before summer is over,” Mari said. “But we’ll do it. I know we will.”
“I believe you,” Nik said, tilting Mari’s chin up so he could smile into her beautiful gray eyes. “I feel like I can do anything with you and our Pack beside me.”
Then Mari kissed him, washing the horrors of the day away with her scent and taste and touch—and her love.
CHAPTER 19
PRESENT DAY—PLAINS OF THE WIND RIDERS—MARE TEST
On the last day of spring River woke well before dawn to ready herself for the Mare Test. Truth be told, she was amazed that she’d had to wake. She hadn’t expected to sleep. At all. But sometime after moonrise River had slept soundly enough to have a strange dream. She and Anjo and Ghost had been on the prairie, aimlessly searching for someone. River couldn’t quite understand who was missing, but in the dream she felt that person’s absence deeply—almost as deeply as if Anjo had been missing. Ghost felt it, too, and was even more upset by it; River knew him well enough by now to read his moods, even if she didn’t have the same connection with him she had with her Anjo. The stallion was depressed, and as they searched the prairie he became more and more agitated, neighing with heartbreaking sadness and loss, until tears leaked down his face, as they had at the Presentation when he didn’t Choose a Rider. They searched on and on, until they came to the Rendezvous Site, which was near the base of the Rock Mountain range.
Suddenly a dove flew from the mountains, heading straight at Ghost. The stallion’s ears pricked forward, then he lifted his magnificent head and called a greeting that shook his whole body. The dove landed on Ghost’s back, perching there and rubbing its beautiful head against the stallion’s silver mane while Ghost nickered happily.
Then the dove turned its head to face River and Anjo, and River was overcome with emotions. She’d never seen such a lovely bird. Its feathers were all the colors of a mother-of-pearl shell. River felt a wash of incredible tenderness for the bird, and was instantly drawn to it—and at that instant she realized this was the same gray bird she’d seen in the vision the phantom quartz had sent her, the bird that had been wounded and chased by the evil blue wave. River’s heart hurt for the little dove. She wanted to keep it safe—to cherish it—and that was even before she noticed that the sweet creature had no eyes.
“Dove?” River called out in her dream, and that’s what woke her.
“Oh, good, you’re up.” April hurried into the small tent River shared with Anjo during bad weather. That night the weather hadn’t been bad, but the mare had slept inside with River anyway, as Anjo understood that her Rider was anxious about the coming Test and rested better with her mare near.
Anjo raised her head and blinked sleepily at April, nickering a greeting under her breath.
“Good morning to you, too, Anjo. I’ve put your grain mash in a feeder next to Deinos. She’ll keep you company while you eat,” April said.
River sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Thank you, April. And, Anjo, don’t forget—no grazing. Just eat the mash and then drink a little water and come back here so we can wrap your legs and dress your mane and tail.”
Anjo nuzzled her Rider, lipping her hair playfully.
River giggled and kissed her muzzle. “Yes, I know you’re not nervous, but I am. So, hurry back.” The gorgeous mare trotted out of the tent, leaving the sisters alone.
“Anjo does look magnificent. She’s completely shed her winter coat, and I love that she’s such a beautiful mixture of gray and white that she looks almost as silver as Mother’s Echo. And the black up to her knees is distinctive. I hope her foals have her coloring,” April said as she handed her sister the tray she’d carried into the tent. April stared at the oatmeal and nuts and the healthy dollop of honey in the center of it.
“She does look good, and she’s in peak shape.” River stared at the bowl. “I don’t think I can eat this.”
“You have to. You’ll need the energy—just like An
jo. And do not forget that about midday you need to eat the apples and nuts in your travel pack, and give Anjo—”
“A few handfuls of the molasses grain,” River interrupted, speaking through a big bite of oatmeal. “I know, I know. And I’m eating. Promise.”
“I think I’m more nervous for you today than I was before Deinos Chose me.”
“Stop it! My stomach is already turned inside out. April, what if we do a terrible job? What if we don’t just lose, but lose badly?”
Hands on her hips, April turned to face her sister. “What does Anjo say about that?”
River snorted, sounding a lot like her mare. “She says we’re not going to lose.”
“Well, mares know things. Didn’t she tell you she knew I was going to be Chosen at my very first Presentation?”
“You know she did, because I told you that.”
“See—mares know things. Especially Lead Mares.”
“She’s not Lead Mare,” River said.
“Yet,” April said.
“But we’re so young, Anjo and me. I counted seven teams that arrived from the other branches of our Herd—seven teams, April. And all but one of them are older than Anjo and me. Do you know that Alani and her Doe have entered?”
April sighed. “I do. They’re a strong team from the Herd Magenti East.”
“Strong and experienced. Doe is ten, and that makes Alani twenty-six. They know a lot more than I do.”
“But they aren’t you and Anjo. No one else is—you two are special. Now get over here so I can work on your hair.”
“I don’t know why we bother.” River sat in front of her sister, and April began combing out her thick raven’s-wing-colored curls. “Anjo and I are going to look like a mess by the end of the Test.”
“Of course you will, but everyone understands why. Forty miles and whatever insane tests the Mare Council has for you over the course of those miles will take a toll. But the Herd will remember how you looked when you and Anjo pranced to the starting line and shot off, leaving everyone behind.”
“Hey, don’t expect Anjo to set the beginning pace. Didn’t you hear that Willow and her Gontia decided to join the Test? Gontia can beat Anjo in a sprint.”
“In a sprint, sure. But not over forty miles,” April said.
“They’re strong competition. Willow is two years older than me. She’s had two more years to condition her mare,” River said. “Luce and Blue are a strong team, too. They’re passionate about winning. I’ve watched them preparing. Ever since that day in the mud trap Luce has made Blue’s conditioning a priority. Add that competition to the seven teams from the other Magenti Herds, and I’m really worried.”
“Riv, pull yourself together. You’re forgetting something really important. No one knows more about what it takes to be a Lead Mare Rider than you. Well, except for Mother, who is actually our Lead Mare Rider. You’ve been watching Mother for a decade. And for the past three years, since Anjo’s Choosing, you’ve been accompanying Mother as she goes about Herd business. This year you even attended the Mare Council with her. Our people know that. They’ve watched you earn the leadership role you’ve grown into, before the Mare Test. And you know Herd members seek you out, especially for your opinion on their horses.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But I would be one of the youngest Riders ever to win a Mare Test.”
“Youngest doesn’t mean that you also wouldn’t be qualified. Look, Riv, our Herd, Magenti Central, is the largest of all five of our branches. We hold the best of the Magenti territory—we have the strongest, smartest, fastest horses. You know what you’re doing, and the Herd is pulling for you.”
“Not the whole Herd,” River said.
“Oh, who cares about Clayton and his minions? Skye and Scout can’t beat you,” April said.
“They’ve been training hard since the mud trap, too,” River reminded her sister.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re a better Rider and Anjo is a better mare. And, sure, Skye has her little group of followers, but they’ll all shut up once you and Anjo win today. Plus, can Skye really awaken a crystal?”
River shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve seen her do it a few times in class.”
April scoffed. “A few times? In class? Please. You could awaken a crystal in your sleep. Even if something bizarre happens and Skye beats you in the Test, she must awaken a crystal so that the entire Mare Council can feel its properties—in front of the whole Herd. That’s a lot of pressure, and Skye does not perform well under pressure. You do.” She handed her sister a small mirror. “What do you think?”
River stared back at her reflection. April had braided her dark hair close to her scalp, weaving thin purple ribbons decorated with embroidered silver mane from Echo. Her braids fell all around her shoulders to almost reach her waist. Dressed with Magenti’s purple, River looked fierce and ready for battle.
“I think you did a great job. Thank you,” River said.
“I’m going to paint your face now, and as soon as your mare gets back I’ll paint designs on her, and then we can braid the ribbons into her mane and tail and wrap her legs.” Anjo snorted as she entered the tent, with April’s newly bonded filly close behind. “There you are! And right on time.” April smiled at Anjo, and then rubbed her filly’s wide head.
“Hey there, Deinos. Thanks for getting up early with us.” River stroked the filly’s slick neck. “Her coat is really beautiful. We don’t see many black-and-white paints in the Herd. I think she’s going to grow into an exceptional mare.”
“That means a lot coming from you.” April smiled happily. “I’ll look forward to which stallion you decide she’s best bred to someday.”
“I will, too,” River said—taking a moment to relish the possibilities of the future. She would love nothing more than to lead Herd Magenti into another era of prosperity, peace, and strength—and part of that leadership would be choosing which mares are bred to which stallions and when.
“Hey, hold still and close your eyes. I know this is going to get all messed up as soon as you start sweating, but you and Anjo are going to look incredible until then.”
River did as April commanded, relaxing under her sister’s expert touch as she used lavender and white to highlight her dark eyes and then painted the wavy lines that symbolized a river—her namesake—on her cheeks. River was glad her sister was there, especially as her mother couldn’t be. It was against Herd law for the Lead Mare Rider to show favoritism toward any of the Candidates who would take her place, and that included her daughter. Dawn and Echo would give the signal that would begin the first leg of the Test—a five-mile race to Bitter Creek, which is where the first of the Mare Test obstacles was set—and then the outgoing Lead Mare and Rider, along with the majority of the Herd Magenti, would cut across the prairie to be at the finish, where they would greet every pair. Dawn and Echo would wait with the rest of the Herd as the Mare Council tallied each pair’s score. Then the Council would give Dawn a slip of purple ribbon on which would be embroidered the name of the new Lead Mare/Rider team. Dawn would then read the name of the team aloud to the entire Herd.
After that there was one more Test—perhaps the most important of them all, because if the Rider failed that Test she would never be allowed to be Lead Mare Rider. The Rider of the Lead Mare of Herd Magenti must be able to awaken a crystal before the Mare Council and the Herd—and be a strong enough Crystal Seer that the Council felt the crystal’s awakening. If she could not do that, whoever the Council had placed second would be given the same opportunity—and so on until a Lead Mare Rider who was also a Crystal Seer was chosen.
The Mare Test was quite a bit different from the Stallion Run. For the stallions and their Riders the Run was a race—a test of strength and stamina. But a Lead Mare team needed more than strength and stamina—they needed wisdom, compassion, intuition, and courage, as well as being fast and strong. And then beyond all of that, the Rider of the Lead Mare must be a Crystal Seer.
Th
e stallion who crossed the finish line first was always named Herd Stallion. Quite often the first mare team that crossed the finish line was not named Lead Mare and Rider.
“Hey, where did you go?” April asked.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about the Test, and also about how difficult today must be for Mother.”
“She’s ready to step down. She’s made that clear,” said April as she opened the wooden chest that held her sister’s most cherished possessions and lifted the amethyst necklace that used to belong to their grandmother. In the flickering candlelight it winked and twinkled magickally as April fastened it around River’s neck, where it nestled against her bronze skin, spreading warmth and contentment throughout her body.
“Oh, I don’t mean that. A decade is long enough to lead. Mother has earned the years of relaxation and respect that are waiting for her. I meant that it must be difficult for her to be forced to stay away from us while I get ready. I’ll bet the only person more nervous than you and me is Mother.” River’s fingers brushed against the smooth purple stones, gathering the warmth from them and letting their comforting aspect soothe her.
“I’ll be with Mother as soon as the Test begins. And don’t forget—she has a lot of faith in Anjo and you. Speaking of your mare, I was asking if you want any symbol besides your two-wave river lines painted on her hips.”
River’s intuition spoke before she’d even processed the answer. “Yes. On one hip paint a dove in flight and paint two wavy lines on the other, as well as on her chest.”
