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Summer Spell (9781743437261)

Page 3

by Wood, Karen


  Harry scowled. ‘Horses are stupid.’

  ‘You’re just jealous,’ said Haylee. ‘Because nobody turned up to watch your silly juggling act at the talent show!’

  ‘As if!’ said Harry.

  ‘Everybody quiet,’ said Mrs Alamango. ‘Haylee, continue with your news, please.’

  ‘Well, I have heard that the Trickstars will be performing at the Summer Festival,’ Haylee continued. She looked at the triplets and went suddenly bashful. ‘Can I come and help you groom the horses? I know lots of grooming tricks from my dressage competitions.’

  Ruby and Kit nodded and smiled. Lexie shuddered. She was already anxious enough about having to perform at the Summer Festival. Haylee’s gushing was making it worse.

  At lunchtime, Lexie forced down her cheese sandwich, which smelled like it had been in her lunchbox for weeks.

  That afternoon, Kit tried another mix of herbs; she was still trying to find the right antidote to the nightshade. ‘This time I made it with echinacea,’ she said, spooning more green mush into Lexie’s mouth. ‘It’s supposed to be good for healing.’

  Lexie was willing to try anything. She held her nose and gulped it down.

  Grampy walked into the kitchen with the white trick-riding saddle in his arms. ‘Time to get serious,’ he said, before turning to leave the room. ‘I’ll see you in the barn.’

  Lexie, Ruby and Kit stared at each other, wide-eyed. Up until now they had not been allowed to ride in the special saddle. They had only practised with a smaller version, a roller, which was a single strap around the horse’s girth with two handles. They pushed their snacks aside and raced after Grampy.

  When they got to the barn, he was putting the saddle on Featherfoot. It was bigger than a regular saddle, with a large horn at the front. Two big loops dangled from either side. Lexie guessed they were to put her feet in. It had more handles at the back and grips along the sides.

  After tightening every strap and buckle and checking it twice, Grampy led Featherfoot from the barn. The horse held his crest high and lifted his feet proudly.

  At the headquarters, Grampy showed them how to touch down with two feet and spring back into the saddle. ‘Touchdown!’ he yelled as he galloped past. The girls watched in awe. Lexie would never have believed Grampy could still be so agile.

  He demonstrated the layover, then held the front of the saddle while he did a neck split. He stood in the foot straps and arched his body forward. ‘And this is the Hippodrome Stand!’ he said.

  Lexie wondered how she would ever learn all those tricks.

  ‘It’s not really about the fastest and strongest,’ said Grampy. ‘It’s about doing it correctly and, most of all, it’s about team work. You make each other strong.’

  Grampy had them practise every trick at a standstill until they got it right. Then they tried some of the easier moves at a slow canter.

  By the end of the afternoon, Lexie could do a Side Fender, hanging on one side of the saddle while Featherfoot loped across the field. She was relieved to find that Featherfoot’s smell hadn’t changed. It helped her feel confident and strong.

  ‘That’s it,’ Grampy called out to her as she watched the ground rush by under Featherfoot’s giant hooves. ‘You’re getting the hang of it now!’

  Later that evening, Lexie led Featherfoot to his stable and gave him a large biscuit of hay. She filled his trough with fresh water and rubbed him over with a towel. As she stood outside his stable watching him eat, she worried about the buckle. They had just started to learn proper tricks and it was only two weeks until the festival.

  Ruby and Kit appeared on either side of her and she felt their hands slip into hers. ‘Hope, courage and compassion is all we need,’ smiled Kit.

  ‘A remedy for the spell would be good too,’ said Lexie.

  ‘Still not working?’ asked Kit.

  Lexie shook her head. Since she’d left Featherfoot’s side, everything was back to rotting seaweed and mouse poo.

  That night, she lay on her bed and pored over Grandma Levinia’s diary. Her grandmother had been a legendary trick rider. She must have written something on how to deal with nerves.

  As Lexie flipped the pages with Kit and Ruby by her side, the room took on its familiar bright glow. The smell of jasmine and orange blossoms lifted from the pages. It was the first lovely scent she’d smelled for days. Her skin tingled and she smiled. ‘Grandma Levinia,’ she whispered. Then she heard the magical voice.

  The buckle’s strength is still inside you. Be brave.

  Lexie touched her stomach where the belt buckle should have sat. ‘From weakness comes strength,’ she whispered. ‘I really hope that’s true.’

  A fortnight later, Lexie rode through the festival in a flowing yellow dress. Her trick-riding slippers were covered in sequins. Featherfoot’s long mane fell over his powerful shoulders, woven with dandelion flowers and white ribbons. More were plaited into his tail. Haylee had done an amazing job.

  ‘We look rather awesome, if I do say so,’ said Ruby. She sat on Tinker, her orange dress flowing gracefully. ‘Haylee can groom my horse anytime.’

  ‘She’s so clever,’ Kit said. She turned around and made sure her pink skirt was spread out over Kismet’s hindquarters.

  Lexie stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the hundreds of faces that stared at her as she rode past. She took a calming breath. There was nothing to worry about.

  Even Harry the horse-hater had been pleasant to them. He had come to say hello when they first arrived. Lexie turned away from him to check Featherfoot’s hooves, expecting a mean comment. But he gave her horse a pat on the neck. ‘He looks good,’ he said. There was no sarcasm in his tone. No mention of farm nags or pulling ploughs. Weird.

  ‘Thanks,’ she’d replied, without looking up at him. She couldn’t afford to. One scornful look from Harry would shatter her fragile nerves.

  There was a short silence. ‘Okay, well, see ya,’ he said. ‘Have a good ride.’

  Lexie had watched him walk off with his hands in his pockets, whistling. Why was he being so nice? She shrugged and put it down to the happy festival atmosphere.

  Now Lexie’s fingers trembled around the reins and her heart beat so fast she thought it would burst through her chest. She took shallow breaths, trying not to inhale the aromas that wafted through the air – whether they were real or imagined, she had no idea. Kit had tried a different remedy every day, and nothing had worked.

  Then Lexie saw them. A mob of Hexleys, with carrot-coloured hair, stood by the hay bale maze. Silvanus, Sabina and Seth were dressed in red and blue costumes, which dazzled with stars. Their black horse wore a red mask and blue boots like an action hero.

  As the Trickstars rode past, several pairs of eyes followed them. Shadrak nodded civilly, and Grampy, walking alongside the girls in his black velvet top hat, returned the greeting. When they were almost past, Silvanus reached out and took hold of Featherfoot’s bridle.

  ‘Your cheek strap’s twisted,’ he said. He turned back to his family and laughed. ‘They can’t even get a bridle on properly! They’ve got no hope of winning a trick-riding duel!’ He turned back to Lexie and gave her a mocking smile. ‘Let me help you with that.’

  Before she knew it, Silvanus’s hands were working on the bridle.

  ‘Hey, get off it,’ said Lexie. ‘I’ll fix my own bridle.’ She slipped off her horse’s back, but the job was already done. The bridle strap lay smoothly against Featherfoot’s cheek.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said and shot her a shifty grin before scampering back to his family.

  Lexie pulled Featherfoot away and scowled. How dare he touch her horse? Or her gear!

  She inhaled with annoyance, caught a waft of mouldy hay and spluttered out a cough. If only that boy was as helpful with his spell remedy.

  ‘Don’t let him rattle you,’ said Grampy. ‘The only person we need to worry about is the mayor.’

  Lexie took a moment to compose herself before jumpin
g back onto Featherfoot. In a small field, people played fruit bowls. They rolled oranges and apples along the ground, knocking over stacks of packing cartons. On the sidelines, people shouted and cheered.

  She rode past the outdoor art exhibition and the vegetable sculpture contest. There were cooking demonstrations and spaghetti-eating challenges, wine stalls and cake stalls. Children sang and danced. She continued towards a giant white marquee, her sisters either side of her.

  ‘This is a shemozzle!’ snapped a loud voice, as they rode past. ‘A total shemozzle!’

  ‘It’s the mayor,’ whispered Ruby.

  Inside the marquee, Mayor Thomas, a tall, thin man with a balding head, paced in circles. He wore a grey suit and tie. A heavy gold ceremonial chain hung around his shoulders.

  Something inside the marquee caught Lexie’s eye. ‘My buckle,’ she gasped.

  It sat, freshly polished and resting on a white satin cushion, inside a glass case. Just the sight of it pulled at Lexie’s heart. She had half a mind to gallop straight through the tent and snatch it back. She felt the same urge swim through her sisters.

  ‘Probably not a good idea,’ said Ruby, reading her thoughts.

  ‘Of course not!’ said Lexie virtuously.

  Inside the marquee, the mayor continued to grumble. ‘Why aren’t there any zucchini and fetta tarts this year? And where are those trick riders?’

  ‘They’re just arriving,’ said a man next to the mayor. Lexie recognised him as Fred Grover, the president of the festival society.

  Ruby and Kit smiled and waved. Lexie tried to hide behind them, but it was difficult to go unnoticed on top of a big horse and wearing a costume. She gave a stiff smile that came out more like a grimace.

  Loud music suddenly burst from the overhead speakers, thumping through the festival and making Lexie’s head pound. It made Featherfoot jump. Lexie looked towards the trick-riding track that had been prepared for their act. The Hexleys were riding onto it, ready to begin.

  Fred Grover took the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he boomed, ‘I am excited to present to you an event that goes way back in history to the Russian Cossacks. Prepare to be spellbound by two heart-thumping, hoof-beating, trick-riding teams. The Hexley High Flyers and the Trickstars will duel for the title of best trick-riding act on the coast of Australia. Please welcome into the arena … the Hexley High Flyers!’

  Lexie clutched Featherfoot’s reins as he began to prance excitedly beneath her. Her hands trembled and she took a huge breath. It was beginning, her only chance to win that buckle back. She had to get control of her nerves.

  The Hexleys’ black horse burst into a gallop, thundering across the track. On his back, Sabina and Silvanus leapt to their feet with their arms linked. They looked striking, each with one leg out behind them, capes flaring. An impressed murmur ran through the crowd and people began to cheer them on.

  ‘Double Spritz,’ muttered Ruby. ‘They’re good.’

  But as they reached the end of the track, Lexie noticed them stumble out of the trick as they sat back down. Silvanus dropped too quickly and pulled Sabina off balance. Her face flashed with frustration.

  The horse stopped sharply.

  Seth went next on the skewbald horse. It launched into a gallop. Seth pounced to his feet and stood tall, arching his body into the wind. Lexie watched in awe as he bent all the way over backwards, put his hands on the saddle and flipped over, landing on his feet.

  ‘Wow!’ said Ruby and Kit together.

  Seth finished and the black horse took off again. This time, Sabina and Silvanus rolled forward and did a double shoulder stand. Sabina hung off one side and Silvanus hung off the other. Somehow they had managed to clip their capes to their slippers, and the satin streaked out behind them like flags in the wind.

  ‘Very tricky,’ murmured Kit.

  ‘Original.’ Ruby nodded approvingly.

  Lexie watched as the two younger Hexleys fumbled through the exit again. As they pulled themselves upright, both riders tried to sit in the saddle. They elbowed and jostled each other until Sabina finally won the spot.

  Lexie quickly turned to the mayor to see if he had noticed. His eyebrows were raised, but she couldn’t tell if it was disapproval, or astonishment at the tricks.

  As the Hexleys rode back and forth across the track, their tricks got more and more daring. Seth sat behind the saddle and brought his knees up to his chin.

  ‘He’s going to do a Death Drag,’ said Ruby excitedly. ‘Oh wow, I’ve never seen anyone do it before.’ She put her hands to her mouth.

  Lexie looked into the marquee again. The mayor’s attention was rapt.

  Seth hooked his feet behind the saddle and lay back over the horse’s rump. His body trailed behind the horse’s galloping legs and tail. His hands dragged through the sand. There was an explosive cheer from the crowd.

  Kit stood in her stirrups and clapped loudly. ‘That was amazing!’

  ‘You’re cheering for the wrong team!’ hissed Lexie, though she had to admit the trick was spectacular.

  Seth curled back up onto the horse. As it stopped at the end of the track, Lexie saw its stride break as it momentarily stumbled. Next to her, Kit winced. ‘Ouch!’

  The Hexleys seemed not to have noticed. Lexie was horrified to see Sabina and Silvanus climb up behind Seth. They pushed the horse on again. This time it went noticeably slower and Silvanus kicked at its flanks, urging it to go faster.

  ‘No,’ said Kit beside her. ‘The horse is hurt. They have to stop.’

  The horse galloped on bravely. Sabina climbed onto Seth’s shoulders. Silvanus climbed onto Sabina and held his hands high above his head. The three riders sat one on top of the other, like a rocket.

  The crowd roared with excitement. In the marquee, the mayor stood and clapped loudly.

  ‘Can he not see that the poor horse is lame?’ said Lexie.

  ‘Apparently not,’ Kit said.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the Hexley High Flyers!’ said Fred Grover. There was a roar of cheers from around the grounds. The Hexleys pulled the horse to a stop and drank in the applause from the crowd.

  ‘I have to help it.’ Kit dismounted and rushed towards the injured animal.

  Lexie looked back to the marquee, to where the mayor still clapped. Next to him was the glass case, her buckle shining brightly within it. She watched the Hexleys lead the limping horse away from the track and felt her heart sink.

  Was she prepared to sacrifice Featherfoot like that to get her buckle back? No way.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ruby, giving her a wink. ‘Don’t give up. We still have a chance.’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, don’t go away! We have more action on the trick riding field. In just a few moments we will have the Trickstars!’

  Lexie watched as Analita and Haylee carried props into the arena and set them in the correct positions.

  Featherfoot drummed his feet and arched his neck proudly. He began pulling at the bit, eager to start.

  Grampy wore an old brown suit. The trouser legs were too short, revealing two odd football socks. As he ran a hand over Featherfoot’s nose, he peered more closely at the reins Lexie had been holding.

  ‘The stitching has been cut,’ he said, pointing to where the reins buckled onto the bridle. He shook his head. ‘Lexie, get off. The bridle will break as soon as you pull on it!’

  Lexie jumped to the ground and inspected the bridle. Her mouth tightened with anger. ‘I bet it was that Hexley boy,’ she said angrily. She looked up and saw Silvanus watching them from a distance, and remembered him grabbing the bridle earlier. ‘Of all the low and dirty tricks!’ she called out.

  He shook his head and lifted his hands. ‘What?’

  ‘Analita,’ Grampy called. ‘We need another bridle, quickly! This one is useless.’ He began checking over the other horses’ gear too, but Lexie’s was the only one sabotaged. If Grampy hadn’t noticed, it would have ruined their act, and it could even h
ave been dangerous.

  ‘Please welcome to the arena the Trickstars!’ the announcer boomed.

  Analita rushed to get a new bridle and hurriedly buckled it onto Featherfoot. ‘Are you sure the saddle is safe?’ she said.

  Grampy put the flap of the saddle down. ‘Yes,’ he said. But his face was grim. ‘I never thought they would stoop so low.’

  Lexie looked across the field to where Kit still tended to the black horse’s injury. Seth held its bridle. She couldn’t see Silvanus. ‘Hurry up, Kit,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, any moment now…’ The announcer was beginning to sound annoyed. An impatient murmur rumbled through the crowd.

  Kit sprinted back to the track and vaulted onto Kismet. ‘I gave him Grandma Levinia’s poultice recipe,’ she said, looking much happier. ‘I think Blacky strained a fetlock.’

  Lexie vaulted onto Featherfoot. Her sister’s compassion, even for their bitter rivals, shone in her face. She looked at Ruby, whose eyes were bright with hope. She knew that neither quality came from the golden amulets they wore – they came from within.

  ‘You can’t be courageous if you’re not afraid to begin with,’ she repeated to herself, and nudging Featherfoot into a canter, she led her sisters out into the ring. Their dark curly hair streamed out behind them, threaded with ribbons. Their satin dresses billowed in the wind.

  But they only got halfway along the deep sandy track before the horses skidded to a halt.

  In the middle of the track, Grampy sat on a bale of straw, swigging on a giant bottle of watermelon wine.

  Ruby put her hands on her hips. ‘Move, old man!’ she said, projecting her voice to the crowd. ‘We’re trying to do a trick-riding act!’

  Grampy gave a shrug and a hiccup, then tipped the bottle up again. He lifted it so high he began tumbling over backwards. He collapsed behind the bale of straw, his feet in the air.

  Around the arena, the audience laughed. Lexie snuck a glance at the mayor to see that he, too, was chuckling.

 

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