Wonder Light

by R. R. Russell

  The boy raised his eyebrows. He folded his arms again. “There’s not a bit magic about unicorns.”

  “What about their horns?”

  “That’s just how they’re made.”

  Twig raised her eyebrows right back. He didn’t think horns that appeared and disappeared were magic? She shouldn’t be surprised. This strange boy might have grown up on the island, learning nothing more than what the woods had to teach him.

  “Miracle,” he whispered. “I like that word.” He was looking at his hands again. “My father’s gone too. I was digging. The ground was so hard…”

  He pulled his cloak tighter around him and shrank back into the brush.

  “Your father?” Had he been here with the boy, on the island? And now that he was gone, was the boy all alone?

  “Twig?” It was Janessa’s voice, calling from the stable yard.

  The Murleys had probably sent Janessa after her. She should go. But seeing the boy melting back into the shadows alone—

  She clambered over the fence.

  He stopped, startled, then turned his back on her. Twig wanted to hide in her shell, until he looked over his shoulder and said, “Are you not coming?”

  Chapter 15

  Twig slipped after the boy. She hadn’t meant to go anywhere, not really; she’d just wanted to—well, she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d intended to do when she jumped over that fence. Make sure he was okay, somehow. She should go back. But before Twig could figure out a way to make her excuses, they came to a hollow under the trees.

  In that hollow was a little shelter built of evergreen branches propped against a tree—and next to it, the wild boy’s stallion. His ears pricked up at Twig, his nose out, nostrils slightly flared, neck arched—the body language that Mrs. Murley had told Twig meant a pony or a horse was curious and eager to meet a new creature.

  “This is Indigo Independence. He’s—he was Wind Catcher’s mate.”

  His coat was the palest of gray, his mane and tail a shade darker. Slowly, Twig extended a hand toward him. He gave her a sniff, then stepped back, his curiosity satisfied. She was merely a harmless, scrawny girl, his eyes seemed to say. He kept an ear tuned to her, but he turned his attention to the boy, giving him a nudge of reserved affection. The stallion carried himself with an intelligence, a knowing sort of pride—the pride of one whose prowess had been tested.

  This was little Wild Light’s father. Would she grow up to be like him?

  “I call him Indy,” the boy said.

  At first Twig thought he was just stroking the horse’s forelock, but then the boy said, “Let’s show her your horn, shall we?”

  It rose under his palm, slowly spiraling, rougher, stronger, longer than Wind Catcher’s. A fine, deep blue stripe followed the spiral.

  “Unicorns aren’t as big as most horses, but they are more agile, more swift, and they have these.” He nodded at the horn. “They aren’t just for show.”

  “The noises in the woods…?”

  “Unicorns. There aren’t many; they don’t produce many young, but when they do, they grow quickly, and if nothing happens to them, they live long.” He gave Twig a piercing look. “You must make sure his filly is used to human contact. Unicorns are naturally wild—wilder than horses. We cannot afford for her to grow up wild.”

  What? Who exactly did this boy think he was? Who did he think she was? “But I—I might not be here long. The Murleys aren’t my parents.”

  “You’re not a Murley?”

  “No.”

  The boy frowned. “You’re just visiting?”

  “Well…not exactly. They’re my guardians, for now.”

  The boy lifted his chin as though he’d already won the argument. “One year—less, I think—and she’ll be ready to ride. She’ll be nearly grown, not like a horse.”

  “I don’t know anything about horses anyway. I don’t—”

  “Never mind, then,” he snapped. He took a clump of Indy’s mane in his hand and leaped effortlessly onto his back.

  He couldn’t go, not yet. Not like that. “What’s your name?” Twig said in a rush.

  “Ben.”

  “Ben what?”

  “Just Ben.”

  “Oh.” Twig didn’t know what she’d expected, but certainly something less normal than Ben. “Everybody calls me Twig.”

  He scowled and looked as though he were trying to decide whether it was worth his while to care what her name was.

  “I’ll be here for a year,” Twig said, trying not to think of Daddy. “At least. We’re throwaway girls, all of us. The Murleys have us because nobody else who can take care of us wants us right now. I’ll be here. I guess can help.”

  He peered down at her from under shaggy bangs. He dismounted, walked over to her, and folded his arms. Awkwardly, Twig folded hers too.

  “They killed my father,” he said, barely above a whisper. “My father,” he said louder, deeper, “who devoted his life to protecting them from each other, from people who would use them and destroy them. He taught me to do the same. He was Wind Catcher’s rider. He tamed her, and when she chose Indigo Independence for her mate, I tamed him too, even though he was the fiercest, the wildest yearling my father ever saw.”

  His voice lifted with admiration for a father who was now gone. “We guarded the island from intruders and kept its secret, just as the herders have always done. But they never had Dagger to deal with.”

  “Dagger?” Twig scrunched deeper into her shell at the way Ben said that name.

  “Midnight Dagger. When he was born, my father named him Midnight Dream. Indy’s horn has a twist of blue.” Ben traced his finger along that fine stripe in the grooves of the spiral. “But Midnight Dream’s entire horn is a deep midnight blue. When he turned to killing, Midnight Dream became Midnight Dagger.”

  “Killing?”

  Ben nodded. “Dagger is the leader of Lonehorn Island’s herd. They follow him because he’s strong in body, strong in spirit. But that spirit took a dark turn, and the others still followed his lead. When the Murleys came, and then all you girls, things got even more complicated.”

  “They want to be left alone.”

  “Unicorns are very territorial. They’ll kill another herd, down to the last foal, over territory. Herders keep the peace between them. Lonehorn Island’s herd has always known and accepted herders with their tame unicorns. They’ve never seen us as a threat. But Dagger started…”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  “They’re omnivorous. They can eat plants or meat. But the more flesh in their diet, the more they crave it. Too much of it and sometimes they become aggressive, not just fighting to protect their territory and their young, but becoming predators, active at night instead of during the day. In rare cases, they begin killing just to kill.”

  Twig stared wide-eyed at Indy’s horn, imagining what a predator could do with such a weapon.

  “We feared for the ponies on the ranch and for what would happen to any of you if you tried to defend them from an attack. We set up camp just outside the ranch. When we drove Dagger back, shooting one of his herd and wounding him, he turned against us. Once he’d healed, he came after us.”

  Ben blinked hard. Indy nuzzled him, and he buried his face in his mane.

  “Who else is here?” Twig whispered. “With you, I mean.”

  Ben raised his head. “Just Indy now. The others all follow Dagger.”

  “I mean people.”

  “Oh. I lived…somewhere else. With my father. We spent a lot of time here, but we had to go home to…take care of some things. When we came back to the island, things were bad. Dagger and some of the others had gotten so bold, so vicious, they jumped the fence and attacked a horse in the pasture.”

  Caper! “Casey—one of the other girls—she says they ate him.”

  Ben
didn’t deny it. “Dagger came after Wind Catcher, and Indy fought him, but I wouldn’t let Indy finish him off. I couldn’t stop thinking about the one I’d shot and killed the last time. I took an oath to protect unicorns.” He shook his head and his eyes filled with tears of regret. “My father was riding Wind Catcher, and he was injured in the fight. I had to get him out of there. That was all I could think of. But he died anyway, and now Dagger’s still out there. When he’s strong enough, he’ll be back.”

  “All that happened because of us, because the Murleys brought us girls here.”

  “It’s not your fault. Dagger is the reason my father’s gone, and Wind Catcher too…”

  Indy rubbed up against Ben, and Ben whispered back affectionately.

  “It’s nothing like the fairy tales, is it? They say only a maiden can tame the unicorn.”

  “It isn’t true. I looked Indy in the eye. I touched his horn. I dared to say his name and to teach him to answer to it.” He paused, blinking hard. It was a while before he met her eyes again. When he did, the faraway look was gone.

  “They said Mr. Murley built a higher fence after what happened to Caper. But you jumped it with Indy, didn’t you?”

  “Indy’s a spectacular jumper. He’s a natural, but I’ve also trained him to jump higher and farther. The others cannot jump it. But if they’re determined enough, they’ll find a way to get what they want.”

  Twig cringed.

  “Twig!”

  Twig jumped and Ben stiffened. The shout was closer this time, and it was Mr. Murley, not just one of the girls.

  “Go,” said Ben gruffly. “Someone wants you.”

  Twig ran back. Mr. Murley stood at the fence. When he saw her, a smile replaced his look of concern.

  “Let’s go, Twig, before they eat all the waffles.”

  Waffles! She clambered over the fence, feeling a strange ache inside.

  “Twig,” Mr. Murley said as they walked side by side, “you need to stay inside the fence. It’s not safe to go into the woods alone.”

  Ben was in the woods alone—with his bow and his sword and Indy, yes, but still alone. Standing between them and a herd of wild unicorns that would soon be on the hunt again.

  Chapter 16

  After breakfast and chores, Twig tiptoed to Wild Light’s stall. Mr. Murley was in there, his lap covered in spilled milk, trying to feed her.

  “Hi there, Twig.” He grinned and started to rise, but Wild Light wobbled up too, bumping him back onto his bottom in her newborn clumsiness.

  Twig laughed softly as Wild Light tried to suckle Mr. Murley’s milk-soaked shirttail.

  “Can I try?”

  “Sure. Maybe she’ll find you less distracting, since you’re not covered in her lunch.”

  “Yet,” Twig said. Then she blushed, feeling dumb. What was she doing laughing, joking?

  Mr. Murley smiled and handed her the rag. “See what you can get down her. I’ve got to get into town and buy some supplies to feed her properly.”

  Mr. Murley left Twig alone with Wild Light. The filly steadied herself, then hopped straight up in the air, all four hooves off the ground, right in front of Twig. Twig yelped in surprise. Wild Light had only jumped a few inches, but it was such a funny, rabbitlike bounce.

  She nuzzled expectantly at Twig.

  “Calm down, now. I know you’re hungry, but you’re going to have to be still if you want anything to eat.”

  Twig pushed gently on Wild Light’s rump, and the filly folded her legs under her. Soon, Wild Light was half in Twig’s lap, the bowl of milk was spilled, and she was sucking milk drips from Twig’s hair.

  Casey peeked around the stall door. “Wow. She’s a messy eater. I’m supposed to tell you it’s time to learn how to halter Rain Cloud.”

  Twig rose, gently nudging Wild Light off. When Twig turned her back on the filly, she cried pitifully.

  “She doesn’t want you to leave, does she?”

  Twig didn’t want to leave Wild Light either. It didn’t seem right for such a new baby to be all alone.

  “I know,” Casey said. “We’ll halter them both!”

  “I don’t know…” What if the wild unicorns were just waiting for her to come outside? But Ben had said she needed to be tamed.

  In a moment, Casey had Rain Cloud by the halter and Twig had the prancing little Wild Light in the aisle. Casey led Rain Cloud to Wild Light and the pony and the unicorn stood nose to nose. Before Twig could stop her, Wild Light danced playfully around Rain Cloud. She jumped, her leap verging on a rear, right in the pony’s face.

  Twig heard a gasp of alarm. Mrs. Murley had entered the stable, and her eyes were big and round. But Rain Cloud just gave the filly one of his indignant snorts, then a glare of warning. Wild Light retreated a step and gave an I’m sorry—I got too excited whinny.

  Mrs. Murley took hold of Rain Cloud and led him away from Wild Light. “Girls,” she said sternly, “that filly is too young for a halter.”

  “I’m sorry,” Casey said. “I should’ve asked, huh?”

  “I know it’s exciting having a newborn filly, but we have to be careful to keep her safe. And introducing a new animal to a pony is a big deal. It can be dangerous.”

  “We didn’t want to leave Wild Light alone,” Twig said.

  “I know. And she might cry when you go, but she really needs to get some rest. Let’s put her back, and when Mr. Murley comes home with a bottle and some formula for her, you can help feed her again. It’s time for you girls to groom your ponies now.”

  ***

  Twig stood in the pasture, watching Rain Cloud and the other ponies. Taylor’s pony, a golden-colored mare named Chatterbox, trotted up to greet Rain Cloud. Rain Cloud’s ears pricked toward Chatterbox, and he nickered softly at her. He looked peaceful enough when he was with his friends, away from Twig.

  “How’s the filly?” Regina said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Lonely.”

  “I wonder what happened to her mom.” Regina was quiet for a second. Then, “My mom’s in jail,” she said.

  Regina was waiting for her to say something, maybe to ask, For what? Maybe to say, Mine too. But Twig didn’t feel like saying anything. She didn’t know if her mom even knew where she was. Twig had sent her a letter just before what happened to Emily. Would she write back? If she did, would Keely answer it for her? Would she tell her what she’d done with Twig?

  Maybe, in jail, Mom would be clean enough to care. Maybe. Mom hadn’t put up much of a fuss when the police came. After they took her away, the police had found Daddy, and Daddy had wanted Twig. He’d been looking for her. He’d hugged her and called her Twig, in that way that made her love being Twig. But Daddy had come with Keely.

  Mrs. Murley approached the girls. “Let’s go get Rain Cloud’s tack ready, Twig,” she said, “and then I’ll show you how we catch him and get him saddled up.”

  Mrs. Murley laid some sort of padding and a saddle in Twig’s arms. It was much heavier than Twig expected, and her skinny, worn-to-wobbling arms nearly dropped it.

  Mrs. Murley pretended not to notice as she draped an incomprehensible tangle of leather straps over her own arm. “I’ve been riding Rain Cloud. He’ll be glad to have a break from such a heavy burden.”

  Twig would be glad to have a break from heavy loads herself, but not if it meant riding Rain Cloud, who’d probably spent the last hour in the pasture plotting and laughing his snorty pony laugh with his friends about how he was going to send the new girl flying. Twig considered tossing her armload up in the air and making a run for it. Maybe there was some more poo for her to scoop up, another wheelbarrow to dump.

  Twig nodded every now and then as Mrs. Murley demonstrated how to saddle Rain Cloud. She followed dutifully as she led the pony out to the stable yard.

  And then Mrs. Murley said, “Now just put y
our toe in the stirrup and hold on there.”

  Twig considered refusing. Didn’t ponies bite? How far back could Rain Cloud’s mouth reach? Regina was smirking at her. But Rain Cloud seemed tame enough, and she didn’t want to look like a total wuss. Twig grabbed the pommel and put her slippery-soled, pointy toe in the stirrup and hauled herself up. She peeked at the ground. Not too far. Thank God Keely had gotten her into a pony ranch and not that horse ranch in Texas that Twig had seen when she pulled up Keely’s Internet search history.

  With Rain Cloud’s lead in hand, Mrs. Murley said something to the pony and started to walk them slowly around the yard. Rain Cloud trotted forward. Twig squeezed her thighs and tried not to flinch. Falling wouldn’t be so bad, as long as she didn’t get trampled. Mrs. Murley was saying something about the reins, but Twig was busy planning how she’d ninja roll to safety if it came to that.

  “Twig, honey, just relax your legs and hold the reins nice and gentle. When you squeeze, he thinks you want him to go faster.”

  Twig stopped squeezing. The last thing she wanted was for Rain Cloud to go faster.

  Chapter 17

  Are you ready, Twig?” Mr. Murley said.

  Twig took a deep breath. She wasn’t, not really, but Wild Light needed her. At first, Mr. Murley had taken care of Wild Light, but he’d let Twig bottle-feed her, and though she’d figured Mr. Murley would want the filly for himself since Caper was gone, he’d stepped aside, quietly and gradually letting Twig take on the responsibility for Wild Light.

  Twig had worried that Wild Light’s horn would pop up like Pinocchio’s nose and give her away, but there had been no sign of it since the day she was born. What if she wasn’t caring for her right and it wasn’t growing at all? What would she tell Ben when he came back for her—if he came back for her? There hadn’t been a glimpse of him since the day after Wild Light was born, since he’d introduced her to Indy.

  The filly was just two weeks old, but she was already bouncing off her stall walls—sometimes literally. She could spring up in the air nearly to the height of Twig’s shoulders without a running start. Today, they were going to turn her out for the first time, and that meant introducing her to the ponies. Twig willed her hand not to tremble as she held Wild Light’s halter. What if they didn’t like her? She was so different.