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go away when the spell faded.
Which suddenly made me wonder. "Cornelius," I called, running to catch up. "How long does this spell last?"
He shrugged.
Wonderful.
These townspeople were going to be awfully mad when they realized what we'd done.
The horses, unfortunately, were just as fooled as everybody else. They whinnied and reared in terror as tongues of flame flickered across the straw and up the supporting timbers. Even Phoenix, the drooping, swaybacked mare we'd almost bought, kicked at her stall, which was more energy than I'd have thought she had.
Each of us picked one of the ten other horses. Enough tack for all of them was hanging on the walls, but since I was the last one in, I had to take the saddle that appeared to be on fire.
"Steady, steady," I murmured to my chestnut-colored horse as he tried to circle in the narrow stall. I knew what to do, but it wasn't easy. Fastening the bridle first, I looped the reins around one of the timbers to hold him fast. He couldn't turn his head, but I could see his white-rimmed eyes trying to catch glimpses of me from the sides. "Steady." If those hooves came down on me, or if he bit me, the computer stimulating my brain would cause me to feel pain.
I checked to see how the others were doing. Better than me, but not by much. The only exception was Nocona. Being Indian, he didn't have to bother with a saddle, and he seemed to have a natural way with the horses. Not only had he gotten his horse bridled already, but now he was preparing Phoenix so we could use her for carrying packs. Even as I watched, he wrapped the lead rope around her stall's gate and looked us over to see who he should help.
Me, me,
I thought, but I wasn't going to ask, and he went to my mom.
"You all right?" I heard him ask.
"Just getting a headache from all this smoke," Mom answered.
I jerked my hand back in time to avoid my horse's teeth. "Stupid horse," I muttered. "Can't you feel it's not burning you?" In fact, the flames seemed to be fading, not quite so intense as before. "Spell's going," I warned the others.
But instead of being thankful for the information, Robin said, "Come on, Harek. How come you're always last?"
I gave the cinch belt one final tug, then looked up. Glaring. Daring Marian to pipe in with agreement. She didn't.
Mom did. "Ready, Ar—Harek?"
I backed the horse out of the stall and swung up onto him. Conditioning was with me: the action felt natural and easy. I dug my heels into the chestnut horse's sides, and he was so high-strung we practically flew out of the stable, despite the semblance of fire by the door.
The others were right behind me.
Outside, Cornelius's dragon still swooped and incinerated. None of the townsfolk seemed to have noticed yet that there was a patch on the creature's tail where you could see through to the sky beyond.
Our horses' hooves thudded against the packed dirt of the street as we headed west. Away from the fire. Out of the town. Toward Sannatia.
5. FOREST
As soon as we passed the last buildings of the town, we were surrounded by tall trees. They pressed thick against each other, overhanging the narrow path on which we rode. Roots and creepers snaked across the way, forcing us to slow the horses' pace. In places, two or three of us could ride abreast. Mostly we went single file.
We rode in silence, each of us glancing back frequently to see if we were being pursued and scanning forward for any new danger. We could hear all sorts of small skitterings, and once a dark shape hurtled itself into the underbrush as we rounded a curve, but so far the biggest danger seemed to be the path itself, and the likelihood that one of the horses would trip and injure itself or its rider.
After a while the final traces of Cornelius's imitation fire disappeared from my horse's saddle. The dragon and the fires it had set in the town must have disintegrated by now also. There were going to be an awful lot of people mad at us. But, so far at least, nobody
Which suddenly made me wonder. "Cornelius," I called, running to catch up. "How long does this spell last?"
He shrugged.
Wonderful.
These townspeople were going to be awfully mad when they realized what we'd done.
The horses, unfortunately, were just as fooled as everybody else. They whinnied and reared in terror as tongues of flame flickered across the straw and up the supporting timbers. Even Phoenix, the drooping, swaybacked mare we'd almost bought, kicked at her stall, which was more energy than I'd have thought she had.
Each of us picked one of the ten other horses. Enough tack for all of them was hanging on the walls, but since I was the last one in, I had to take the saddle that appeared to be on fire.
"Steady, steady," I murmured to my chestnut-colored horse as he tried to circle in the narrow stall. I knew what to do, but it wasn't easy. Fastening the bridle first, I looped the reins around one of the timbers to hold him fast. He couldn't turn his head, but I could see his white-rimmed eyes trying to catch glimpses of me from the sides. "Steady." If those hooves came down on me, or if he bit me, the computer stimulating my brain would cause me to feel pain.
I checked to see how the others were doing. Better than me, but not by much. The only exception was Nocona. Being Indian, he didn't have to bother with a saddle, and he seemed to have a natural way with the horses. Not only had he gotten his horse bridled already, but now he was preparing Phoenix so we could use her for carrying packs. Even as I watched, he wrapped the lead rope around her stall's gate and looked us over to see who he should help.
Me, me,
I thought, but I wasn't going to ask, and he went to my mom.
"You all right?" I heard him ask.
"Just getting a headache from all this smoke," Mom answered.
I jerked my hand back in time to avoid my horse's teeth. "Stupid horse," I muttered. "Can't you feel it's not burning you?" In fact, the flames seemed to be fading, not quite so intense as before. "Spell's going," I warned the others.
But instead of being thankful for the information, Robin said, "Come on, Harek. How come you're always last?"
I gave the cinch belt one final tug, then looked up. Glaring. Daring Marian to pipe in with agreement. She didn't.
Mom did. "Ready, Ar—Harek?"
I backed the horse out of the stall and swung up onto him. Conditioning was with me: the action felt natural and easy. I dug my heels into the chestnut horse's sides, and he was so high-strung we practically flew out of the stable, despite the semblance of fire by the door.
The others were right behind me.
Outside, Cornelius's dragon still swooped and incinerated. None of the townsfolk seemed to have noticed yet that there was a patch on the creature's tail where you could see through to the sky beyond.
Our horses' hooves thudded against the packed dirt of the street as we headed west. Away from the fire. Out of the town. Toward Sannatia.
5. FOREST
As soon as we passed the last buildings of the town, we were surrounded by tall trees. They pressed thick against each other, overhanging the narrow path on which we rode. Roots and creepers snaked across the way, forcing us to slow the horses' pace. In places, two or three of us could ride abreast. Mostly we went single file.
We rode in silence, each of us glancing back frequently to see if we were being pursued and scanning forward for any new danger. We could hear all sorts of small skitterings, and once a dark shape hurtled itself into the underbrush as we rounded a curve, but so far the biggest danger seemed to be the path itself, and the likelihood that one of the horses would trip and injure itself or its rider.
After a while the final traces of Cornelius's imitation fire disappeared from my horse's saddle. The dragon and the fires it had set in the town must have disintegrated by now also. There were going to be an awful lot of people mad at us. But, so far at least, nobody
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