Addie brought the horses as close as she could, but controlling three animals (without having one of the Air Gifts that let you either talk to or compel animals) was a difficult task. Those of the students who were able to control their mounts with their Gifts (something the Townies wouldn’t notice) were nearly ready to start.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Loch shouted.
Spirit tossed him a set of canteens, then ran for her own mount. She paused long enough to hook her canteens over the saddlehorn—they were full, and weighed at least eight pounds each—then thrust her foot into the stirrup and vaulted into her saddle. Three months ago she wouldn’t have been able to manage it, but since then she’d spent twenty hours a week—every week—on horseback.
Addie spurred her mount forward, out of the mob of struggling students, and Spirit and Loch followed. All three of them kicked and hit at the classmates trying to drag them from their saddles and claim their horses and gear. It was a relief when they managed to break free of the mob at the stables—at least now the only thing trying to kill them would be whatever was set up on the course.
There were four riders ahead of them—all from Oakhurst—and in the distance, Spirit could see a riderless horse running free. She couldn’t decide whether it had thrown its rider or simply escaped. She wondered where the Radial kids were, and what they’d thought about the start of the class. Welcome to Oakhurst, she thought sardonically. And you thought your high school was hell.
A fluttering scrap of orange tape tied to a stake marked the official start of the course. The stakes marked the path you were supposed to follow, but they were spaced far enough apart that it would be easy to miss one. Any unplanned detours would cost the rider precious time. And the entire course was overseen by spotters—Breakthrough goons—on horseback.
Today’s course headed due west. Uphill. The riders in front of them were drawing ahead quickly—the usual tactic was to go as fast as you could in a desperate effort to gain time, at least until you hit the first obstacle. But if they’re changing so many other things, maybe … Spirit thought. She kept her mount to a trot; Addie looked at her with irritation, but matched her pace. Technically, March was early spring, and the constant wind had scoured the winter’s snow from much of the ground, but that left patches of ice and—worse—places where the patchy snow had drifted into depressions in the ground, concealing them. The ground was treacherous. She was sure the Breakthrough people had done their best to make the footing worse than it would normally be, too.
Suddenly, one of the horses ahead of them went down. Its rider jumped free and rolled to her feet—it was Kylee—but when her mount lurched upright it was obvious he’d gone lame. Kylee was out of the running.
“Maybe she’s one of the lucky ones,” Loch said quietly.
“If she’s at dinner tonight,” Addie answered grimly.
* * *
When they finally reached the ridge running along the top of the slope, the three of them could see the Radial kids a couple of miles ahead—they were easily identifiable by their motley winter wear, in contrast to the Oakhurst uniforms. Spirit counted quickly. They all still seemed to be there. Suddenly the Townies’ horses begin to shy and plunge. A few moments later, the rattle of firecrackers reached Spirit’s ears.
“This is too easy,” Addie said slowly.
Spirit stared at her for an instant before she realized what Addie meant. “If the course was an obstacle course, it wouldn’t matter if we saw them in advance—they’d still be just as hard. But what if it’s a series of surprises, not obstacles? If we just kept the group ahead of us in sight, we’d know what each ‘surprise’ challenge was before we reached it.”
“Breakthrough couldn’t have made it that easy,” Addie said slowly. “Could they?”
Loch laughed bitterly. (Yeah, that’s a “no,” Spirit agreed silently.) A few minutes later they reached the place of the first “official” obstacle—but instead of another string of firecrackers, there was a low “chuff” and thick black smoke began to boil up out of the ground. In moments, they were blind.
“The only way out is through,” Loch shouted, coughing, but it was quickly apparent the horses wouldn’t walk through the smoke unless they were led. They dismounted, wrapping their faces in their scarves to shield themselves from the worst of it, and staggered blindly along the path. By the time they got through the smoke cloud, the kids from Radial were nowhere to be seen.
The temptation was to make up lost time, but this was hardly the first time they’d done an endurance ride, and carelessness or haste would cost them dearly. It soon became apparent that Spirit’s first guess had been right: today’s course had specifically been designed to spook the horses—everything from firepots spraying jets of fire into the air, to strips of tin strung on wires. It didn’t matter what the riders ahead of you encountered; you’d almost certainly face something different. Keeping the horses from bucking—or bolting—was a constant challenge. “We’re lucky nobody’s buried claymores,” Addie snarled as she fought her mount to a halt one more time. By now the Radial kids had left the course entirely. A couple of them had turned and ridden back toward town; the rest of them were paralleling the course from a safe distance.
“Don’t give them any ideas,” Loch said grimly.
He looked as tired as Spirit felt. Addie was the best rider of the three of them, and even she was having trouble. They had roughly two hours to cover ten miles, but they had to follow the course, and most of the time their mounts were going backward and sideways. By now the Oakhurst riders—the ones who’d made it out of the stable yard, at least—were scattered all along the course. Some of the students who hadn’t been able to equip themselves back at the stables were making up for it by ambushing those who had. The course itself wasn’t the only hazard.
Up ahead, Spirit could see a sheet of corrugated tin roughly thirty feet by four feet laid out on the ground. It flapped and wobbled; when the rider she was watching began to cross it, there was a combination of hollow booming and the nails-on-chalkboard sound of horseshoes on metal. But the horse and rider crossed it smoothly.
“How is he?…” Spirit said.
“Derek has Animal Control,” Loch said bleakly.
The rider following Derek tried to do the same thing, but she didn’t have an Air Gift (obviously), and her mount kept shying away from the frightening surface. She dismounted and tried to lead her horse across, but it refused to budge. Another student trotted past her, and at the booming clatter, the balking horse simply bolted back the way it had come. Its rider ran after it desperately.
“There’s no way to get through this course without using magic,” Spirit burst out.
“But with the Townies around—not to mention the spotters…” Loch said.
“I hate this— This hypocrisy!” Addie burst out. “First they tell us it’s forbidden to use magic to get through the course—and then they make it impossible for us to do it!”
“They’re teaching us to cheat,” Loch said with a crooked smile. “Isn’t that special?”
“Well, there’s more ways than one to cheat,” Addie said grimly.
She dismounted and tied her scarf over her horse’s eyes, then helped Loch and Spirit do the same with theirs. Then they waited until another rider with one of the Animal Control Gifts galloped his horse across the obstacle. Addie led all three horses quickly after him; Loch and Spirit defended her from other students who wanted to take her horse for their own.
After that there was a short stretch of the course where nothing was actively trying to kill them. There were flags flapping at the edges of the trail, some flashing lights, and a few simple jumps, but compared to what had gone before, it was a cakewalk. Some of the riders spurred forward, hoping to make up lost time. Loch pointed silently off to the right, where the course made a sharp turn and began to angle downhill. Only about half the riders saw the markers and made the turn—by now Spirit, Addie, and Loch were in the back half of the party, ha
ving lost so much time at the tin bridge.
“I vote we turn around and go home,” Addie said, only half joking. The course so far had led them in a half circle; they were now only a mile or two from the stables.
Something small and black and furry skittered across the trail right under the feet of Loch’s horse, making it dance and plunge—and then bolt. By the time he got it reined in and back on the trail, Spirit could see the black furry thing was just a piece of fake fur on a guide wire. She was watching it carefully as she approached the spot—and then her horse slipped and staggered, nearly throwing her. She looked back and saw a sheet of mirror-smooth ice gleaming where its hooves had disturbed its sawdust camouflage. She risked a glance at her watch. At least another half hour of this before the class was over. If they hadn’t reached the finish line, at least they’d be able to ride off the course.
While she was still summoning her fortitude to ride on, there was a crump as if some kind of mortar had been fired, and the air was full of fluttering squares of paper. Spirit was about to scoff—compared to what they’d already gotten through, this was nothing—when the paper squares began to burst into puffs of flame. Flash paper, she realized after a shaky moment. Her horse was too exhausted to do much more than dance skittishly: if this had happened when he’d been fresh, he’d probably be in Radial by now. All their horses were exhausted. The next part of the course should by rights be something that called for speed and stamina.
They were passing the stand of trees now where the five of them had made their last stand against the Wild Hunt just before Christmas. “Remember when dealing with a demon lord of Hell was the worst we had to worry about?” Loch asked, smiling crookedly.
Spirit opened her mouth to answer, when suddenly there were screams from behind them. Not of surprise or anger or even fear.
Of utter terror.
Everyone Spirit could see ahead of them just kept going, and she wished desperately she could do the same thing—ride on and ignore whatever was happening behind them. It was the safest thing to do. The three of them had already stood out enough today—anything more would be even more dangerous.
But QUERCUS said kindness is my greatest weapon.
She reined in and turned back. Loch and Addie were riding behind her; they’d stopped, and Loch was looking back the way they’d come.
Oh please let that be an illusion oh please—she thought desperately. But she knew it wasn’t. It was some kind of animal—huge, with pale tan fur mottled in gray. It didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen in her life—except maybe the saber-tooth tiger CGI from the Discovery Channel. It had attacked one of the horses. The rider—it was Derek—was trapped under the horse, screaming as the animal ripped his horse to ribbons. His Gift of Animal Control wasn’t driving it off—or he was too badly hurt to use it.
The horse thrashed weakly. The ground was dark with blood. Spirit could smell it.
There were only a few riders behind Derek—some of them had stopped to stare, others were detouring around the monster to continue on. At the edge of the trees, Spirit could see a Breakthrough spotter sitting motionless, watching the scene with interest.
What do I do? What do I do? Panic was a harsh metal taste in her mouth. She didn’t have any magic—and neither Loch nor Addie had anything that could attack at a distance. She looked from Loch to Addie. Both of them were staring at the monster in a kind of hopeless terror. In another moment it would be done with the horse—and then it would kill Derek. And there was nothing any of them could do but watch.
Suddenly there was the crack of a rifle shot. Spirit saw the spray of dirt kicked up by the bullet—it had struck near the monster, but it missed.
The next one didn’t. Spirit saw a red mark appear high on its shoulder, and then its blood was flowing, staining the pale fur. It flung its head up and roared, then sprang away from the dying horse. For a moment it seemed to stare directly into Spirit’s eyes. Its eyes were yellow-green, and its mouth was red with blood, and her first impression had been right: if it looked like anything, it looked like a monster tiger. Then it bolted in the direction of the pine wood.
“Hey! Get going or we’re never going to be able to go on that pizza date!” Muirin cried. She brandished her rifle high over her head, like a cowboy in a Western. She was riding a pretty little black mare—not one of the horses supplied for the Endurance Riding course, and not fitted out for a cross-country hellride—and wearing brightly fashionable (nonregulation) winter riding gear.
Now that the danger was over, the Breakthrough goon was on his walkie-talkie, calling for a Jeep and a first aid team. Spirit could hear Derek sobbing as he pushed uselessly at the dead horse’s body.
“Way to be inconspicuous, Murr-cat,” Addie muttered.
Spirit hesitated, thinking she should dismount and do whatever she could for Derek. But she didn’t get the chance.
“Come on!” Addie said irritably. She reached out and grabbed the reins of Spirit’s horse, dragging it with her as she turned her own mount back to continue the course.
* * *
Of the twenty students in the class, fourteen reached the finish point, and three of them were disqualified for not having the proper equipment. Of that fourteen, six had visible injuries—sprains, bruises, cracked ribs, broken bones.
But at least it was over.
And day after tomorrow we do it again, Spirit thought in exhausted incredulity.
Much to Spirit’s surprise, four of the Radial kids—the Weber twins, Adam Lewis, and Kennedy—joined them at the rendezvous point to return to the stables with them. On the ride home, Addie and Loch prudently took the opportunity to distance themselves from Spirit and from each other, and Spirit found herself riding with Kylee (who was on a different horse than the one she’d started with) behind the Townies.
“I thought it was going to be, you know, a big deal,” Spirit heard Brett said to Adam. “You know—something more than a few rags tied to sticks.”
“Well, the tin cans were pretty noisy,” Adam answered fair-mindedly. “And I think somebody set off a couple of firecrackers.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Kylee said quietly. She glanced sideways at Spirit, and the two of them shared a moment of perfect understanding. To listen to the Radial kids talk, there hadn’t been any smoke bombs, any firepots—and certainly no prehistoric monsters.
What was that thing? Spirit wondered again. And what is it doing here? For the last six months, Oakhurst had been stuffing her brain with magic and spells and Gifts and Schools—and nowhere in any of that had been anything about saber-tooth tigers. She shivered—as much from dread as from cold and exhaustion. If they were going to start being attacked by monsters during every class, nobody was going to survive to attend the Spring Fling.
When she heard the sound of galloping hoofbeats coming up behind her, she didn’t even look up. She knew who it was.
“Hi,” Muirin said brightly, reining up beside Spirit. “Miss me?”
Spirit studied her critically. The rifle she’d defended Derek with was nowhere in sight. Maybe one of the course spotters had taken it away from her. “Yes,” Spirit said honestly. “If you hadn’t been there, Derek—”
“Pas devant les domestiques,” Muirin said lightly, nodding toward the Townies. Not in front of the servants … Spirit took the hint and shut up. She wondered yet again if this “new” Muirin was really an “old” Muirin—Muirin the way she’d been before she was sent to Oakhurst. Was this witty callous stranger who took nothing seriously just an act she was putting on to fool Breakthrough?
Or to fool them?
FIVE
By the time they reached the stables, Spirit was ready to fall out her saddle with sheer exhaustion. They had to unload and unsaddle their horses, but at least they didn’t have to do anything else—this was one area where staff actually took care of things.
Spirit signed the checklist saying she’d unsaddled her horse (it was probably possible to cheat and say
you had when you hadn’t, but she didn’t think anyone would dare) and thought longingly of just walking into the stables and collapsing on the nearest pile of straw. She was so tired she didn’t even care if she missed dinner.
But when she turned around, Muirin was standing at her elbow.
“Come on, come on!” Muirin demanded. “Come and see my surprise! All of you—Addie! Loch!”
After all the trouble we’ve gone to pretending we don’t know each other, and she does this? Spirit cut glances with Addie and Loch, and both of them looked just as confused and upset. But there was nothing to do about it but follow Muirin—or risk being the center of an even bigger scene.
* * *
Muirin’s “surprise” was waiting in the motor pool parking lot. Among the half dozen Jeeps and big black SUVs, the bright blue “sport” SUV stood out like a peacock in a henhouse.
“Not very sexy,” Muirin said grudgingly. “I mean … a Nissan. But it’s got four-wheel drive, so I don’t have to leave it parked until June!”
“Oh my god,” Addie breathed. “It’s a car. Muirin…”
“What did you have to do to get that?” Loch asked, disgust plain in his voice.
“Hey,” Muirin said, tossing her head. “At least I can ask the date of my choice to the Fling.”
There was a gleam of—triumph?—in her eyes as she looked at Loch. Loch simply looked weary.
“Well, don’t think it isn’t Topic A,” Muirin said archly. “Everyone’s talking about it. Guess it’s a good thing you picked Burke, huh, Spirit?”
Spirit couldn’t keep from wincing, even as she wondered whether Muirin was actually being as spiteful as she sounded—or was delivering a disguised warning. But at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder—would she have fallen for Burke if she hadn’t known Loch was unavailable?
Sacrifices Page 7
