The Bloodwolf War Page 10

  As Tatuk had said, two vixens snapped and snarled at each other in front of the hollow. Gem whinnied. “Stop it, both of you. I won’t have discord in my land. If you can’t live together in harmony, you’ll have to leave. As much as I’d hate to banish you to the cold winter, I will if you don’t stop this nonsense.”

  The original owner of the den grovelled and begged forgiveness. One of her ears had been torn and dripped blood. The new arrival crouched low and apologised.

  After wielding her horn and healing the injured fox in a sparkle of emerald stardust, Gem addressed the newcomer. “I’ll help you create a den under the adjacent oak. That way you’ll have someone to help raise your litter and teach them manners.”

  Using her horn and hooves while the foxes dug with their paws, she carved a shelter for the vixen between two massive roots. The smell of damp earth mingled with the moss and leaves they used to line the nest for the new family. As she departed, Gem could hear the vixens swapping stories about the horrors they had experienced at home. Although happy they would become friends, her concern for the future grew from their news.

  With a heavy heart, she climbed to the ledge where she comm­unicated with Echo.

  He answered immediately, sharing her worry regarding Fleet’s ancestry. Tell me again who his parents were.

  Gem passed on the names of Fleet’s sire and dam. He believes Sapphire’s dam might have been called Mist and came from west of White Water Cliffs, though he’s not sure. Other than that, she shared nothing more about her ancestry with him.

  Echo was silent for a few moments. Mist? I had a daughter by a horse mare with that name. It might be possible. Warmbloods live much longer than normal horses. That would make Fleet my great-grandson.

  His response confirmed Gem’s suspicions. Would that be enough to allow him to pierce the veil? He’d only be a noncorn with an eighth hot­blood.

  It must be, and why we must take Sapphire’s vision seriously. You must contact Moonglow and seek a prophecy.

  Worried what reception she might get from the First Unicorn, Gem hesitated. Will she speak with me?

  I don’t see why not. Call her now. No, wait; you’d better have Fleet with you in case she has questions. I doubt his power will be enough for him to talk with her at Tern Island.

  Gem breathed deeply to calm herself. Fleet stood shoulder to shoulder with her on the ledge, his excitement at contacting another unicorn in contrast to her nervousness.

  Waiting longer would achieve nothing. She directed her thoughts out to Moonglow. Can you hear me? It’s Gemstone, Diamond and Echo’s daughter.

  Gemstone! I never thought to hear from you. Diamond says… Oh, never mind. Tempest tells me… What was it? You have a warmblood companion? How nice. Or maybe not. I never did hold much with the company of horses.

  Relieved Moonglow sounded welcoming, albeit muddled, Gem related Fleet’s arrival and his dam’s vision. Echo suggested I contact you for a prophecy. Can you help?

  Wait. If one comes, you’ll know. A strong warmblood? How fascinating. But troubles? I don’t know about that. Everything’s fine here. Hang on.

  Gem’s mind went silent, as if all her thoughts drained away. None of her senses pierced the void, not the whisper of the wind, or hard stone beneath her hooves, or the warmth of Fleet’s body touching hers.

  She waited, not daring to move, her eyes clamped shut.

  Golden feathers there are five

  Time and rock has healed

  Strong and straight have stayed alive

  Only the true can wield

  Sensation returned to Gem, the shuffle of Fleet’s hooves loud on the loose stones, and the dryness of her tongue rasping against her teeth. What does it mean?

  Did Diamond not tell you? Jasper saved Aureana’s feathers. They must have regained power. From contact with Equinora. Or maybe not. Who knows?

  Her dam had told her of Dewdrop’s death, and the goddess being unable to revive her. But what did this mean for Equinora now? Before she could ask, her mind blanked again.

  Hidden deep in peaks of white

  Guarded by a bear

  Transform red and black to right

  Horse must venture there

  Once again, sensation returned, leaving Gem dizzy. I still don’t understand what this means.

  Your horse must get the Snowhaven feathers. Then go to Obsidian Caves and use them on Shadow.

  Moonglow added no more to explain her words other than that prophecies came to her only in critical situations.

  Gem passed on the conversation to Fleet, who had been unable to hear Moonglow. He said nothing as they headed back to the lake, giving Gem the chance to absorb the information.

  Yuma rested against the base of her favourite tree, carving a hand-sized lump of jade. The figurine had Fleet’s muscled contours and thick mane and tail, as well as his heavy-boned head, unlike her own chiselled features. As much as she admired the artistry, the image troubled her. “Please don’t make a unicorn. We’d rather remain unnoticed.”

  Yuma accepted her request. “There’s so much I have to learn. I’m glad my father sent me away, even if this journey isn’t quite what he had in mind.”

  Gem touched his shoulder gently with her horn. “I’m glad you feel that way. Fleet must go to Snowhaven and Obsidian Caves to save the herds from annihilation. I hope you’ll go with him.”

  “Of course! I’ll do anything I can to help. My people are under threat too. I should have returned to them ages ago, but I see now that my path lies elsewhere.” Yuma stood and untangled Fleet’s mane.

  Fleet ignored him and pawed the air, squealing at Gem. “I’ve only just found you! I must stay. The riddles don’t say I have to be the one to go.”

  Gem stamped her hoof. “This is not a request. You sought help from me. Moonglow’s prophecy is an instruction from the goddess. She said, ‘Your horse must get the Snowhaven feathers.’ Of course it means you.”

  Fleet’s skin rippled as if swarmed by biting insects. “But the snows still ravage the lands outside Shimmering Lake. At least let me wait until spring. The prophecy didn’t say I had to go right away.”

  Yuma interrupted their argument. “Where are Snowhaven and Obsidian Caves?”

  “You’ll need to head east until you reach Lost Lands, a forest of bogs.” Gem described Obsidian Caves to the north within spires of volcanic rock. “They smell of rotten eggs. Snowhaven is further east. Their tips are covered in snow all year round.”

  Yuma nodded. “I know where you mean. I’ve seen them only from afar. I don’t know anyone who’s ever been there. That’s wolf country.”

  Gem agreed they were dangerous places. “Tatuk has offered to show you the way. He’ll also report to me on your progress.”

  Fleet turned his back, his tail clamped tight to his buttocks. “I thought unicorns were supposed to protect the herds. Why does it have to be me to go?”

  Gem struck with her foreleg, catching Fleet on the shoulder. “You have no choice. The goddess has spoken. That is how we help. Besides, I can’t have you remain here now you’ve opened your mind, especially as you can’t conceal your thoughts. Learn to do so quickly, else you may find others listening in.”

  “What about the wolves on your boundary? How will we get past them?” Fleet paced around the tree, kicking up puffs of dust.

  Gem sighed. “Tatuk will show you another pass, further to the north. They won’t be expecting anyone to leave that way. And if you do encounter wolves, you should be able to outrun them with your strength and stamina now your wounds have healed.”

  “But the poison remains in my veins. I’m still plagued by nightmares.” He struck the ground with a hoof and snaked his head, his thick mane writhing like a tangle of black serpents. “What will you do with so many animals arriving, or if bloodwolves pierce your barrier? I should be here to de
fend you.”

  Anger brewed within Gem. Why did horses always become so argumentative once they mated? “I’ll do what I always do—help in any way I can. The best way you can defend me is to stop Shadow from sending his beasts out.”

  Her gaze lingered on Fleet, Yuma, and Tatuk in turn. “Moonglow agrees Sapphire’s vision is dire, and her prophecy tells you what you must do. There can be no delay. You must leave Shimmering Lake tomorrow.”

  Chapter 9

  Sensing a patch of clover, Tress pawed at the snow, teasing the frozen lobes free with her lips. Her tongue numbed as she sought more, her stomach rumbling with hunger. Giving up, she studied the dark skies. “Let’s see if the oats have been put out yet.”

  Breeze stirred under the tree, snow crusted in her flaxen mane. “They won’t be. It’s only just past midday.”

  Snows had come earlier than any horse could remember. Without hay and oats, they would have suffered many losses. Two old mares had already perished, their skeletal bodies devoured by hogs. The people had burnt what little remained, unable to save even the torn hides or hair. The clan spent a lot of time gathering fuel, collecting dried dung in addition to fallen branches. Flowering Valley had too few trees to chop down for firewood. Families trekked long distances to gather timber for new dwellings.

  Tress nudged her friend’s neck. “Let’s go anyway. I could do with a canter to warm up.”

  The palomino turned her head away. “You just want to see who the delegate is who turned up yesterday. Streak won’t be happy if we interfere with his negotiations.”

  Tress stamped her cold hooves. “You’re so boring. I thought you’d be interested in where we might end up.”

  “Of course I am. That’s why I don’t want to be rude. I don’t want to belong to King Flash.” Breeze shifted her weight, not showing any intention of moving.

  Tress huffed. “I’m going to the creek then. I can’t stand around doing nothing. There’s not enough grass to bother digging.”

  Before Tress could act, a pair of stallions approached. Lifting their knees high through the snow, they made a magnificent sight. Streak led the way. “I’ve been looking for you two. Why are you never with the other mares? Come and meet Wolfbane, the delegate from Oakvale.”

  Tress and Breeze shook the snow from their coats and trotted to meet the newcomer. They stretched their soft noses forward to blow into the bay stallion’s nostrils. Not as tall as Streak, his solid frame rippled with muscle. Shaggy hair hung from his lower legs, heavy with wet snow.

  Wolfbane pranced in greeting. “You’re certainly worthy to be Oakvale mares. I had heard of the beauty of King Streak’s offspring.”

  Tress arched her neck at the praise, lifted one foreleg, and squealed as she struck at the snow.

  Streak barged between Wolfbane and the fillies, snapping at the delegate. “These two aren’t for my brother. They’re destined for country far to the east and will have to cross Flash’s territory. I’m only introducing them so your warriors won’t interfere with their progress.”

  The heavy bay stallion was obviously disappointed. Tress had heard he was Head of Warriors and likely to be the next Oakvale king. “I don’t want to go far away. I like it here. Why can’t I wait a few more years?”

  “You’ll go where you’re told when you’re told.”

  After flattening her ears at her sire, Tress pricked them towards Wolfbane. “What’s so important a noble warrior is acting as delegate?”

  Wolfbane stood proud. “I also come with news of serious danger. Wolves from Dark Woods have crossed River Lifeflow and are massing in Great Forest.”

  Stepping forward, Tress quivered all over. “Surely that’s more reason for you to stay in your own territory. Do you think they’ll come as far as Flowering Valley? They must be hungry. I didn’t think they liked open country.”

  Streak nipped his daughter on the shoulder, driving her back from the visiting stallion. “These wolves are unlike any we’ve heard of. Bloodwolves. They’re as tall as you, with crimson eyes and blood-red fur. They killed two colts before the snow made stalking impossible. And they hunt alone instead of in packs, so there’s less chance we can smell them.”

  Wolfbane added that injured horses didn’t recover. “They suffer terrible depression and don’t eat, and their wounds don’t heal. At least three more bachelors are likely to die before winter is over.”

  Streak addressed both fillies. “We must be vigilant. Do you think I order you to stay with the mares for fun? Go and join Starburst.”

  The risk of danger had never occurred to Tress. In her short life, no wolves had been sighted within the heart of Flowering Valley. The hogs were no threat. A shiver ran down her spine. She thought of the young stallion, Fleet, who had visited in late summer. All she knew was that he had headed northeast on a task set by her sire. At least he was heading away from the bloodwolves. He interested her, even if he was rude and ignorant. She felt a strange affinity with him being the only other black she had met. Now she doubted she would ever see him again. That troubled her.

  Another nip on her neck broke in to Tress’s thoughts. Streak pressed her away with his broad chest. Breeze had already headed towards the main herd. Tress obeyed and trotted after the palomino, her head buzzing.

  Later that evening, content with a belly full of hay and oats, Tress and Breeze wandered to the creek for a drink. Most of the mares had drifted back to the shelter of the trees. A cool wind tugged at Tress’s mane and tail. “I bet there’ll be ice on the water soon.”

  Breeze sipped at the sparkling stream where it burbled over pebbles in the shallows. Unlike River Lifeflow marking the western border of Streak’s territory, the small creeks criss-crossing the rolling grasslands were narrow enough to jump. Breeze’s pale hooves glistened where tiny waves lapped over her toes. “Last winter we had the queen’s milk.”

  Tress savoured the memory of the sweet drink she had suckled for the first nine moons of her life. “It’s good she’s dried up. She’s definitely expecting again.”

  The fillies chatted on about what the future might hold for them. At least it sounded as if they would be staying together. Breeze lifted her head, water dripping from her muzzle. “Do you think Streak negotiated for you to be queen at the new territory? I wonder if the land is open like this, or forested like Oakvale.”

  Tress didn’t answer until after a long drink, the cold water slithering into her gut like a snake of dread. “I expect there’ll already be a queen. We’ve more chance of rising up the ranks if we work together.”

  They paused as Wolfbane cantered towards them. Snow sprayed as he pulled up a few horse lengths away. “I’ve been waiting all day to find you two alone.”

  Glancing around to make sure Streak was not in sight, Tress tossed her tail and pranced on the spot. “It’s nice to see you again. Why do you want to talk to us?”

  Wolfbane sidled closer. “I know where Streak aims to send you. It’s an awful place and the queen is a bully. She’ll never let you wander like you do here.”

  Taken aback, Tress flicked her tail in annoyance. “She’ll respect me if her king has traded well for us.”

  The bay stallion snorted. “Once the swap is done, there’s no going back. You’ll be made to have a foal every year and have no say in how it’s raised. I’ve spoken with my sisters who have gone there. They’re keen to be the ones selected to come here in return. King Scar has offered six proven mares for you.”

  Shocked at Wolfbane’s words, yet at the same time delighted the other king considered her worthy, Tress didn’t like the sound of King Scar. She’d heard of mares being killed by stallions if they misbehaved. “Perhaps by spring Streak will have a better offer.”

  Wolfbane stepped between the two fillies. “Another reason I’m here, rather than a junior delegate, is that I’ve been sent to aid the black stallion on his mission to find
a unicorn. Your sire sent a runner to warn King Flash of Sapphire’s vision. Why don’t you come with me instead of being sent east?”

  Breeze moved away. “We could never go against our king’s will. Even if we wanted to, he’d send warriors to chase us down.” She told how, the previous year, a mare had run away with one of the bachelors. Streak had sent horses after them, killing the rogue stallion and returning with the mare. The king had mounted her until she slipped her foal and he sired her progeny.

  Heedless of the dire warning, an adventure to find a unicorn appealed to Tress. “How will we be able to leave without being noticed?” Tress wavered, her inner desires tugging against her rigid upbringing. “What do we do once we find them? What if we don’t?”

  Wolfbane seemed to have a solution for all her arguments. He pushed his case further. “Think of the glory that would be added to your name if you returned with help from the unicorns. You’d be so valuable you could choose your own future, maybe even challenge Starburst as lead mare.”

  Leaving the suggestion hanging in the air, the stallion spun and galloped away, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll come and find you when it’s dark.”

  Breeze headed for their usual resting tree.

  Tress ignored her and sought out Starburst. “Is it true Breeze and I are to be sent east in spring?”

  Starburst continued to graze. “Don’t worry, Blackfoot will escort you. You’ll be safe.”

  “I don’t want to go. What if the king is horrible? What if the queen doesn’t like me?” Tress shadowed her dam, adding her desire to stay close to Flowering Valley.

  The mare switched her tail in irritation. “Streak has made a good match for you. You’ll go where you’re told. I suggest you improve your manners if you want to be accepted. You’ve a lot to learn.”

  Seeing she wouldn’t get any support from Starburst, Tress joined her friend at the solitary cottonwood on the river flats. Most of its golden leaves had fallen, mingling with old droppings and seedpods to provide a soft footing. The old trunk showed scars where horses stripped bark to chew. One twisted branch had been worn smooth where the fillies scratched their withers and rumps.