by Kate Gordon
Lily and the Unicorn King
Kate Gordon
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Glossary
Free goodies to say thank you
About Kate
Acknowledgments
Coming next
Copyright © Kate Gordon, 2019
All rights reserved. The moral rights of the author have been asserted. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover illustration by Emma Weakley.
Cover design by A to Z Book Cover Design.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Any errors, including the use of the Māori language or references to Māori culture, are my own.
First edition July 2019.
ISBN 978-0-473-45123-3 (Kindle)
ISBN 978-0-473-45122-6 (Epub)
ISBN 978-0-473-45121-9 (Paperback)
Published by Relish Books.
www.kategordonauthor.com
Created with Vellum
Chapter One
Lily Masterton could feel her pony gathering himself to buck before they landed over the second jump.
She gripped tighter with her knees and fisted one hand into Rainbow’s long black mane. Then she took a firm hold on the reins to try and keep his head up.
But it wasn’t enough.
Rainbow touched down from the jump, front feet then back feet before launching himself skyward, his back arched like a rodeo bronco.
“No, no, no!”
Lily came off the saddle, her hand in the once-wild Kaimanawa pony’s mane the only thing keeping her in contact.
He landed with a dual thump of hooves then twisted up into a corkscrew movement.
That was it.
Lily flew over his shoulder, flipping to land smack on her back on the arena’s sandy surface.
She lay still, eyes closed as Rainbow’s hoof-beats slowed, stopped, then came back towards her. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration as the pony nuzzled her aching shoulder, all sign of his crazy antics gone.
Blinking, she swallowed hard. Why on earth did Rainbow buck every time they jumped a double?
Her chances of qualifying for the Pony Club championships were slipping away. What was his problem with a double-jump with one or no stride in between? If she couldn’t fix it, they’d never be able to complete a clear round of show jumping at the qualifying trials in three weeks.
Rainbow’s warm breath huffed on her face.
“All right, pony, I’m getting up now.” Lily scrubbed the tears away. No one was going to see her cry. Not her two best friends, Sasha and Chloe, who both had well-schooled ponies and thankfully weren’t training with her today. And especially not her mother, who would have plenty of questions about why she fell off.
“Are you okay, you silly boy?” she asked the glossy bay. It was hard to believe that only ten months earlier he’d been running wild with his herd in the mountains of New Zealand’s North Island.
He shoved her gently with his nose as if to say, “Well, come on.”
Lily dusted sand off her jodhpurs and swung back into the saddle. When your mum was famous in your district as a horse trainer and riding coach, one thing you learned to do was to always get back on the horse!
“Now we’ll finish with something positive, right?” Lily repeated another of her mother’s favourite lessons. She squeezed her legs for Rainbow to trot on. They made big half circles down the arena, the pony bending his body perfectly through the serpentine curves, his mouth gently accepting of the bit.
She’d taught him so much already, some with her mother’s help and some by herself. He was no problem to saddle, shoe, or float. He worked well on the flat and really seemed to love jumping, especially when it was just the two of them, tackling the rolling hills and log jumps of the Pony Club cross-country course.
So why did a double fence in the show-jumping ring cause such problems? Did the saddle pinch somehow with the quickly repeated jumps?
Lily squared her shoulders and sat down to push Rainbow into his ground-eating canter. She was going to work out what the problem was and fix it.
Heading Rainbow to a single jump – a low one – her stomach was suddenly tight with anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t jump anything else in case there was something wrong with the saddle or girth. But by the time the thought was finished, Rainbow had lifted off. Instinctively, she moved with him, so they cleared the jump perfectly to land easily and canter towards the next one.
They popped over another one just as sweetly, so with a big pat on his shoulder, she asked her beloved pony to walk. She guided him out of the arena to cool off with a stroll under the gum trees which lined the driveway of her family’s farm.
At the barn, she slipped off Rainbow’s back. “We’re going to fix this, right?”
With a gusty sigh, the pony rubbed his sweaty head on her shoulder.
“Sounds like an ‘I guess so’ sigh, so I’ll take that.”
Lily banged in through the back door, hungry and smelling of horses, and ran smack into her grandmother’s arms.
“There you are, my little mokopuna.” Her Māori nana smelled of native trees and herbs and the food she loved to share with family and friends. “Come give your Kuia a hug.”
Surprised but happy to find her grandmother in their kitchen, Lily wrapped her arms as far as she could around her cuddly grandmother and squeezed tight.
There was nothing as comforting as a hug with Kuia.
“Kuia! I didn’t know you were coming to stay.”
Her grandmother smiled at her only granddaughter. “I’m here to harvest some kawakawa while the time is right, and I might stay a while after that too. You have a beautiful patch of kawakawa plants on this farm, thanks to your clever mum and dad having the foresight to look for such things when they chose this property near the sea.”
“A complete coincidence, as you very well know, Ma,” came Lily’s mother’s voice from across the kitchen. “It was just the right farm.”
“Which your ancestors told you, but you say you can’t hear them,” replied Kuia, repeating an argument Lily had heard all her life.
Kuia believed in the old ways, like their ancestors keeping watch over the family from the spirit world. It seemed to Lily that her mother tried not to offend Kuia while she and Dad ran the farm in a modern way.
“As much as I love my heritage, the truth is our ancestors are dead; they are no longer in the real world,” said Mum, slapping a cupboard shut as if to emphasise the point.
“So you say, Tessa, so you say.” Kuia snagged another hug with Lily. “Would you like to come and pick kawakawa with me before school tomorrow? There is much I can teach you.”
“Oh.” Lily looked over at her mother, who just smiled as if to say, ‘over to you, kiddo’. “I'm not sure if I’ve got time, Kuia. I am busy training Rainbow for the Pony Club championships. It’s only three
weeks until the qualifying competition.” She needed to train before and after school if she was going to fix this jumping problem.
“Hmmm, is that right?” Kuia looked at Lily’s mum and rolled her eyes in that way she had. “I seem to recall similar excuses from my own daughter many years ago, and now my granddaughter is telling me the same thing.”
Kuia headed to the lounge where Lily’s little brother, Liam, was playing with his toy trucks on the carpet. “Maybe this young man will accompany his Kuia.”
“Brrrmmm, brrrmmm,” was the two-year-old’s response, making everybody laugh.
“Ah, well, it’s good you know what your priorities are.” Kuia eased herself down onto the rug beside Liam and began pushing a truck towards his. “But one of you is going to learn what I have to teach you before I pass from this world. Someone must take on our rongoā knowledge so you can pass it on to the next generation when the time comes.”
“We’ve heard it all before, Mama,” said Mum. “And you know I’ve already learnt plenty about Māori herbs and native plants.”
Harrumph was Kuia’s reply as Mum turned to Lily. "How did you get on today, pet?"
“Um, okay, I guess.” Lily headed for the pantry.
“Fall off, did you?”
“Might have.” Lily crammed a biscuit in her mouth. “Why?”
“Because there's sand all over your back.”
“Oh.” Lily stepped onto the back-door mat and tried to brush the sand off, embarrassed her mother had seen evidence of the fall. Another one. “Yeah, Rainbow and I have been having a few problems with the doubles.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Maybe, but I’d like to try and figure it out myself first.”
“Fair enough.” Tessa smiled as she sliced carrots. “You know where I am if you need me.”
“Yep, I sure do.” Lily gave her mum’s back a quick hug. She liked that her mum never pushed her to accept help with Rainbow, unless it was for her own safety. Not like Chloe’s mum who made her do extra maths lessons when Chloe was already the brightest girl in their class. It was sad Chloe never had as much time for riding as she and Sasha did.
“How long ‘til dinner?"
“About twenty minutes. How about you set the table?”
“If I'm quick, can I use the computer before dinner too?”
“You better get moving,” replied her mother as she swung the oven open.
Roast lamb wove its delicious smell around Lily as she typed in show jumping troubleshooting and scrolled through the search results. There were lots of videos of trainers fixing tricky problems, but nothing matched Rainbow’s issue with double jumps.
One trainer took a Kaimanawa pony through the very basics with a series of small jumps. She groaned. No time for that, surely.
A kiss on the top of her head from her dad interrupted her.
“Hello, Lily,” he said.
“Hi Dad,” she replied vaguely, wondering if she’d over-faced Rainbow with jumps that were too big too soon.
Liam thumped his fist on her leg. “Illy. Illy.” He grabbed her hand and tugged.
Tessa whisked dishes to the table. “Good boy, Liam, you get Lily off the computer.” Lily clicked the internet browser closed. “Goodness, Lily, you’re as bad as your father when you’re watching something. Wash your hands now. Aren’t you lucky Kuia set the table for you?”
“Oh, sorry, Mum.” Lily rushed to wash and dry her hands, then kissed her grandmother’s cheek as she sat down beside her. “Thanks, Kuia.”
Pieces of conversation about her parents’ day on the farm drifted by Lily during dinner. Dad was worried about something, but she was working out the details of how to redo the basics with Rainbow and get back to where they were now. She had three weeks. Would it be enough?
She tuned in when she heard Kuia saying something to her mother about native plants like the pōhue vine and toetoe grass. Kuia said they might strengthen Tessa’s newest horse, a young bay filly who’d been tied to a fence on the road by a farm on the other side of the forest from theirs. Thin and scarred with many injuries, the filly was in a sad way when their vet had driven along the road last week. The vet immediately called the police and then Tessa, who often took on rescue horses. The police were investigating the owner who seemed to have disappeared.
Now called Kahurangi, meaning ‘precious child’, the filly was improving every day. Kuia thought some native plant essences might help.
“Both are good for healing physically and emotionally, for giving her the strength to stand tall and overcome the despair of her previous life. Her injuries sound more than skin-deep,” Kuia said, her wrinkled eyes fixed on Tessa.
“They certainly are, the poor thing. I’ll think about it, Ma.” Tessa got up from the table to bring a cake for dessert.
“Didn’t we use that general herbal tonic Kuia made for us when that cow went down after calving and the vet was sure wouldn’t get up?” said Dad.
“Oh, did you?” Kuia replied with a smile. “And how did that go?”
“The cow was up in twenty-four hours, Ma, but it could just have easily been the antibiotics finally kicking in.”
“If you say so, love.” Kuia kept smiling. “But I don’t think so.”
Kuia’s success with native plants got Lily thinking. What if there was something physically wrong with Rainbow that meant he somehow hurt deep inside with the jump-land-jump process needed to clear a double. Or what if it was an emotional hurt from being mustered out of the wild? Kuia might know something that could help him. Lily picked up the cake her mother had put in front of her and chewed as she thought.
“A thank you would be nice, Lily.”
“What?”
Her mother was hot on good manners and looked at her sternly.
“Oh, sorry, Mum. Thank you. It’s a yummy cake.”
“Okay then. When you’re done, you can clear the table and fill the dishwasher, please, while Dad and I get this little monster to bed.” She grabbed Liam’s hands before he fed another piece of cake to their dog, Sky, who hung out under the table every mealtime.
“I’ll get the bath on,” said Dad.
With Liam wriggling under one arm, Lily’s mother headed out of the dining room, leaving Lily with Kuia.
Lily swallowed. “Kuia? Do you think a plant like pōhue vine can help a horse you think is well and healthy? Would it harm them if there was nothing physically wrong that needed to be fixed, but maybe there was something wrong emotionally?”
“Pōhue is helpful in many ways, but it is always better to be able to assess the creature first before deciding a possible remedy. Is this for your Rainbow?” Kuia helped her pile up the dishes.
“Yeah.” Lily rinsed plates and stacked them in the dishwasher with Sky at her feet happily accepting the leftover potato from Liam’s plate.
“Why do you think Rainbow has something wrong with him?”
She explained the bucking and why that might be happening.
“You are a clever mokopuna, my sweet. Yes, he may have an old trauma or perhaps an emotional scar. You and your mother train these horses with love and kindness, but they were taken from the wild, mustered by helicopter, forced into yards and trucks for the first time in their lives. That must be traumatic for them all. Maybe you can help me make a tonic tomorrow.”
“Sure, that would be great, Kuia, thank you!” Lily hugged her grandmother. It was time away from training, but it could also be just what Rainbow needed.
Kuia advised Lily how to give the herbal mix to her pony. “It will be interesting to see if you find a difference with him in a few weeks.”
As she finished her chores, Lily felt happier having a plan. I’m going to go back to our jumping basics for a week and give Rainbow this tonic. Then I’ll see how he is. I don’t want to ask Mum for help. He’s my pony, and I want to train him myself.
Kuia settled herself in front of the TV, and Lily kissed her cheek. “I’m just taking Sky down to say
goodnight to the horses. I won’t be long.”
“Alright, love. The moon will be rising soon, and it’s nearly full. Remember that marama hua brings out all the taniwha. You know they’re water creatures, so don’t go near the creek!”
Her grandmother’s chuckle followed her out the back door.
Lily shivered as she latched the garden gate.
The golden light of the early summer dusk was fading into smudgy blues and purples, and one big star shone near the horizon. Jupiter, she decided, remembering some of what her father said about the night sky – he loved all that stuff. The air was filled with the never-ending roll of surf on the beach down below the big horse paddock.
If only Kuia hadn’t mentioned the taniwha. She wasn’t easily spooked, but gee, no one needs to hear about giant mythical lizard-like creatures and how they like to moon-bathe near water... especially when the moon was going to rise soon.
She hoped the horses weren’t near the creek. Just in case.
Walking quickly, she crossed the yard. A creature flashed behind the barn. What was that?
Sky shot into view around the corner of the barn.
Oh... Her breath hissed out in relief.
“Don’t scare me like that!” The black and white dog danced at her heels, his eyes sparkling. “Yeah, you can laugh. You knew it was you. I didn’t.”
Looking across the big paddock, she saw Rainbow and her mother’s Kaimanawa mare, Gracie, over at the far fence, companionably hanging their heads over the top rail with young Kahurangi. Good, they weren’t close to the rocky creek that ran through the paddock down to the private beach which curved around one corner of their farm.
