by P. C. Cast
She didn’t notice the strangers at first; she was too busy stroking Ghost’s neck and telling the stallion how completely magnificent he was. River didn’t even understand something was wrong when Ghost staggered to a stop and lifted his head, blowing hard and scenting the air.
She felt his entire body tense just before he trumpeted a call that was filled with joy—complete joy.
River laughed and leaned forward to hug his sweat-drenched neck.
“That’s right! You won! You are Lead Stallion!”
But instead of turning to trot back to the celebrating Herd, Ghost leaped forward into a gallop, shocking River so completely that she had to scramble not to slide off his back.
“Hey, you’re done. Everything’s fine,” she tried to soothe the stallion, cuing him with her heels to stop.
He completely ignored her.
Strangers!
Anjo’s voice was inside her head and had River looking behind her for her mare, who was racing for her, with April clinging to her back. Her sister was shouting and pointing at the mountains.
At first River didn’t understand. She peered at the mountains, which Ghost was galloping toward, squinting against the sun that was just setting behind them, and then her eyes caught movement and she saw that a group of several people, perhaps thirty or forty, were pouring from the pass—and Ghost was heading directly for them.
* * *
Mari was filled with equal measures of joy and exhaustion as the Pack staggered down the last steps of the Rock Mountain pass. The steep path opened to greet a valley, green as their forest they’d left so, so far behind. Just the sight of the flat, verdant land gave the Pack the injection of energy they needed, and they gathered around Antreas excitedly.
“Is this really it? Really the Plains of the Wind Riders?” Danita asked.
Antreas slid his arm around her. “It really is.”
“Oh, Dove, I wish you could see it,” Lily gushed. She and Dove were at the front of the Pack, because since Dash had Chosen her, Lily had taken to walking beside Sora and Mari; she liked to talk puppy with Sora and healing with Mari. Currently, Dove and Lily were standing next to Mari. She had just rechecked the splint on Dash’s leg, declaring to Lily’s delight that he would probably only need to wear it for two more weeks.
“I’m sure it is quite lovely.” The irritated tone of Dove’s answer caught Mari by surprise. Over the course of their long journey Dove had proven herself to be extremely kind. Mari had never heard her speak to Lily in anger, but when Mari studied the blind girl’s face she saw that it was unusually pale. She looked obviously tense—upset even.
“Bloody beetle balls, are those Wind Riders?” O’Bryan pointed toward one end of the valley.
“Yes! Those are definitely horses!” Antreas said.
A cheer lifted from the valley, drawing Mari’s gaze to their right. “Do you know what they’re doing?” she asked Antreas. “There’s a whole group of people over there.”
“It looks like some kind of race. Well, I guess we won’t have time to prepare to meet the Wind Riders after all,” he said.
“We’ve had plenty of time,” Danita said. “For months we’ve been—”
“I have to get down there,” Dove interrupted. “Now. Lily, guide me. Quickly—quickly!”
Lily stared at her friend in confusion. “But, why do you—”
Instead of arguing with her, Dove reached out, searching with her hand, calling, “Mari! Moon Woman! I need you.”
“I’m here, Dove.” Mari took her hand.
“Help me. Please. I have to go to the valley.”
“Can you tell me why?” Mari asked.
“I—I do not know. I only know I must go there. Now.”
“Dove, we’re all going there.” Antreas spoke gently, clearly as concerned as Mari by Dove’s sudden mood change.
“Not fast enough! It has to be now! Faster than the Pack will travel. Please, Moon Woman—I beseech you!”
Mari looked at Sora, and the other Moon Woman shrugged.
“Okay, Dove. I’ll take you. Here, hold on to my arm. The path is still steep in some places—and there are roots you can trip over.”
“I have my stick. Do not think you need to slow because of me.”
“All right. Let’s go then.”
“I’m coming with you,” Nik said. “And so are Rigel and Laru.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mari said.
“Most Wind Riders have never seen a canine, but they know of them. I don’t like it that you’re rushing down there with them,” said Antreas. “So, I’m coming with you.” He looked over his shoulder at the rest of the Pack.
“We can make it down there just fine,” Sora assured him. “Go with them!”
Mari could feel the tension that gripped Dove’s slight body as she pulled the Moon Woman forward with her, forcing her to half slide, half jog down the widening path.
They’d reached the floor of the valley when one of the horses—the golden one Mari had watched race ahead of the other three—stopped, faced the mountains, and trumpeted a cry that seemed to fill the air around them.
Dove’s body jerked at the sound, and her grip tightened on Mari’s arm so desperately that they would leave fingerprint bruises the next day.
“Take me to him!” Dove cried.
“But, he’s a horse. And there’s someone on him,” Mari said—utterly confused.
“Doesn’t look like that matters. He’s heading our way,” Nik said.
“Nik, Mari, be sure you keep Rigel and Laru close,” Antreas warned.
Mari had just projected a picture to both Shepherds of them remaining close by when the creature stormed up to them, followed by a white horse with dusky mane and tail being ridden by a dark-skinned girl who didn’t look any older than Dove. They were coming fast, trying to catch the golden horse—and behind them, farther back, came a whole group of horses, all carrying riders.
Then another girl, perhaps slightly older than the one on the white horse, who also had dark, beautiful skin and a mane of black curls dressed with the same purple ribbons so many of the horses wore, dropped from the golden horse’s back.
This close, Mari could see that the golden horse was covered in sweat. His sides were heaving and he was breathing hard. The girl had her hand on his shoulder, and was speaking earnestly to him, but the massive creature paid no attention to her. Instead he sprinted forward—directly at Mari and Dove.
“Don’t move!” Antreas said.
“Ghost!” the girl cried, running after him, but as the white horse caught up with her the girl suddenly stopped—her eyes widening in a look of compete shock.
To Mari, time seemed to move very slowly. She was able to see the younger girl slide off the white horse’s back, and the horse immediately drop to her knees so that the older girl could mount her. And then she watched as they chased after the golden horse—who was staggering to a halt right in front of Dove.
No one moved. No one spoke. The only sounds were the golden horse’s labored breathing and the approaching hooves of the white horse.
She reached them quickly. Mari had managed to tear her gaze from the golden horse, and she was looking at the girl as she and her mount joined the frozen group.
The girl dismounted before her white horse had come to a stop. She hurried to the golden horse’s head.
It was then that she saw Dove—really saw Dove—and Mari watched a myriad of emotions cross the girl’s expressive face: shock, disbelief … and then, quickly, both were overshadowed by joy—pure joy.
“I am River,” she said, speaking directly to Dove. “May I ask your name?”
Dove dropped Mari’s arm and turned her face toward River’s voice. “I am Dove.”
River staggered then—as if Dove had punched her—but when she looked up her smile was beatific.
“Where is he? Where is my Tulpar?” Dove asked, stretching out her hands blindly before her.
The huge golden horse made a nois
e then, low in his great chest—and Mari didn’t need to understand horses to recognize the love that resonated in that sound.
“I can hear you! I can hear you!” Dove said, searching with her hands.
“Here. He’s right here.” River stepped forward, gently guiding Dove’s hands to the horse’s head.
At her first touch, Dove’s hands shook—but as soon as she spoke Mari realized she wasn’t shaking from fear, but from excitement.
“You’re wet! And hot! And you’re breathing so hard,” Dove murmured to the horse.
“Use your hands to find his nostrils.” River spoke in a calm, steady voice, though Mari could see that tears were cascading down her cheeks. “When you reach a nostril, blow in it and he will be yours forever.”
Dove didn’t hesitate. She moved closer to the horse, following her hands, until she pressed her lips to the horse’s muzzle and blew into his nostril.
The massive animal sighed then, with a great, wavelike sound, as if he was releasing a lifetime of loneliness.
“Never! You will never be alone again!” Dove said as she rushed forward, throwing her arms around the trembling horse. “It’s okay! It’s okay,” she soothed as the horse bent his head and nuzzled her, nickering softly over and over. Dove ran her hands up his neck, and then laughed with glee. “Oh! You’re so big!”
“He’s a stallion. Actually, he just won a race that makes him the most important stallion of our Herd,” said River as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Of course he is,” Dove said. “He’s too magnificent to be anything but a leader.” She smiled radiantly, speaking to the stallion again. “No, my Tulpar, I am not afraid of you. How could I be?” Dove turned her head then, searching, as she said, “He wants me to ride him. River, would you help me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
River moved to the side of the stallion as he dropped to his knees, and then she helped Dove swing one leg over his wide back as she fitted herself into the wet blanket strapped to him.
“Yes, I am ready!” Dove said. Gently, slowly, the stallion stood.
Then Dove’s smile shifted—changed—to an expression of pure shock.
“I—I can see! I see! Through my magnificent Tulpar’s eyes, I can see!”
Mari staggered in shock against Nik, whose arm went around her. Behind them she heard Antreas gasp as well.
“Mari! Look at you!” Dove’s eyeless face was pointed straight at Mari—but it was Tulpar’s eye the Moon Woman smiled through her tears into.
“Rigel! And Laru! Oh, look how beautiful you are! Nik! Antreas! You are all so beautiful!”
“I don’t understand what’s happening, but it is beyond wonderful,” Mari said.
“Yes, it absolutely is,” said River, smiling up at Dove. “River!” Dove said as Tulpar’s gaze shifted. “Thank you! Thank you! Tulpar was so, so lonely. You helped him—you loved him—while he was waiting for me. I owe you a debt I can never repay.”
River’s honest face flushed. “You owe no debt at all. Ghost—I’m sorry—I mean Tulpar is family.”
“I hope that means I am now family, too. And that’s Anjo! Tulpar, she is spectacular!”
Anjo nickered softly.
There was a sound from the mountain pass behind them as the Pack poured out onto the valley. Tulpar’s head turned in their direction.
“Oh, Tulpar! That is my Pack—those are my people. They will be your people, too! We just traveled so far. Over water and finally through those mountains and—”
The change came over Dove the moment Tulpar’s gaze lifted from the Pack to the mountains. The joy slid from her face like tallow from a candle and was replaced by a look of absolute terror. Tears cascaded down her suddenly pale cheeks, and when she spoke her voice had taken on a familiar singsong tone that had Mari’s blood turning cold with fear.
“I see it now—they who follow
Blue like a wave—dark as the grave
We must fight Him—we must fight Him—with our last breath
He brings destruction and blight
He is Death!”
THE END … for now.
AFTERWARD
AN ADDITIONAL SCENE FOR A SPECIAL WALMART EDITION
Dove collapsed, falling limp against Tulpar’s neck. River didn’t hesitate. She rushed to catch the eyeless girl as she began to topple from the stallion’s back. Tulpar was nickering in distress while he craned his neck around and tried to nuzzle Dove.
“River! What’s happening?” On Deinos, April thundered up, followed by a wide-eyed group of Riders, including a few haggard and sweat-covered stallions and their Riders—though a quick look confirmed to River that neither Clayton and Bard nor Skye and her Scout were among the group.
“Stop!” River held up her hand and her sister pulled Deinos to a halt. “Keep the Herd back until I call you.”
“Of course!” April kneed Deinos around to face the horses galloping up.
“Anjo! Steady Gho—I mean, Tulpar,” said River.
Instantly, the big golden stallion stopped nickering in distress, though he did continue to nuzzle Dove.
The girl Dove had called Mari ran up. She had a big canine by her side, though he hesitated, remaining respectfully clear of the stallion’s hooves, while his eyes never left Mari.
“Does anyone have water?” Mari asked as she dropped to her knees beside Dove.
“Yes, in his saddlebag. I’ll get it.” River hurried to yank free the water skin, causing the blanket with Clayton’s rolled-up, deadly lasso to fall free. Grimly, River crammed it back into the saddlebag. She’d deal with Clayton and his treachery as soon as Dove and her newly bonded Tulpar were settled.
“Thank you,” Mari said as she took the water skin and poured a little on a strip of fabric she ripped from her tunic, dabbing Dove’s pale face with the wet cloth. “Dove, can you hear me?”
The girl’s body trembled and she sucked in a gasping breath. “Tulpar? Where is my Tulpar?”
The stallion whinnied softly and lipped her hair.
“He’s right here.” Mari took one of Dove’s hands and guided it up to Tulpar’s muzzle.
Dove’s trembling stopped immediately as she stroked the stallion’s muzzle and wide forehead.
“Dove, the vision you had—how immediate is the threat? Is Death here? Now?” Mari asked.
River felt a jolt of fear as she waited for the girl’s answer. Were the dark words Dove had spoken before she fainted true and not just a strange, poetic metaphor for the life they left behind? What was this “death” that followed them?
Dove lifted her head. “No. It is like what I felt about the Saleesh. The horrible thing is in the future, but it is there. It will happen. He will come.”
“He?” River asked.
Mari met her gaze. “Death. He’s coming.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I get visions,” Dove said. “I believe they are from the Great Goddess of Life. And through Tulpar’s eyes She showed me Death descending on the valley.”
“But not immediately, right, Dove?” Mari asked.
“No, not immediately. We have time. Though my intuition tells me not a lot of it,” answered Dove.
“I’m going to need you to explain exactly what you mean,” said River.
“There is a lot to explain,” said Mari. “And we will tell you everything we know.”
“That sounds like a good start, but first we have stallions that must be tended. We’ll need to—”
“Please do not take Tulpar away from me! Please!” Dove’s voice broke on a sob.
River quickly crouched beside Dove. “You don’t need to worry about that. A Rider is never, ever separated from her Companion horse.”
“You-you mean l-like when a puppy chooses her Companion?” Dove asked shakily. “Once that happens the two are never separated.”
River’s gaze flicked from the young canine who was waiting several feet from them, staring unblinkingly at Mari, to her own Anjo,
who stood just a few feet from River, watching her just as closely.
It is the same bond, Anjo spoke inside River’s mind. The canines are just as connected to their Companions. I can feel it—all horses can.
“Yes, it is like the canine and Companion bond,” River said.
Dove stopped trembling and nodded, her shoulders collapsing in relief. “Then you understand.”
“Of course we do. When a horse Chooses a Rider it is for life. You will never be apart from Tulpar. He would not allow it.” River said.
“Exactly like our canine-Companion bond,” said Mari.
“I feel better. I can stand now,” Dove said.
“Okay, but take it easy.” Mari and River helped Dove stand. The girl leaned against Tulpar’s damp side, visibly drawing strength from the magnificent stallion. The moment it was clear that Dove was stable again, Mari turned to River.
“This is not how I imagined our first meeting would go, but my people and I are very glad to be here on the Plains of the Wind Riders. You already know her name, but Dove is also our Seer.”
River couldn’t stop her smile. “I am not surprised that Tulpar Chose a Seer. Did you know that our Herd, the Magenti, are led by Crystal Seers?”
“I know that you are led by women and that you are bonded to the magnificent creatures you ride, but I don’t know much more than that—though I am eager to learn. I am Mari, Companion to Rigel, and one of the two Moon Women who lead this group that we call our Pack.” Mari bowed her head respectfully as she opened her arms in a greeting that showed she carried no weapon and offered no ill will.
“And I am River, Rider to Anjo, who is Lead Mare of Herd Magenti–Central.” River, too, bowed her head respectfully, crossing her wrists over her heart in her own traditional greeting. “Welcome to the Plains of the Wind Riders.” River gazed over Mari’s shoulder to the group of sweaty stallions and concerned-looking Herdmembers gathered several yards off with April. River noticed that her mother was in the center of the group, gazing confidently at her daughter—and she felt a surge of gratitude for her mother’s obvious faith in her ability to lead the Herd, even during an event as bizarre as a rogue stallion Choosing an eyeless stranger as his Rider.
