by Chen Jiatong
“Viggo, you’re in charge,” Zelvia said. “We’ll follow the traditional rules.”
“Your wish is my command,” an old, gravelly voice replied.
An ancient gray horse, all skin and bones, emerged from the crowd. He looked like a walking skeleton. He was tall, with swollen eyes. His legs, which couldn’t have possibly been any thinner, wobbled as they struggled to hold up his body.
“Following the rules that have been—ahem—that have been passed down among wild horses for many years—ahem—this race will take place in a manner that is friendly and fair,” Viggo said, pausing from time to time to cough, “and honest, in the spirit of friendship toward these animals who’ve come from afar”—he lowered his head to look at Dilah and Ankel, then smiled and nodded—“and this pursuit of true strength, which we shall witness with our very eyes …”
Viggo droned on and on. The other horses were no longer paying attention and had begun whispering to one another.
“If my memory serves me, the last time I presided over one of these things was three years ago—ahem—it’s still fresh in my mind … At that time, both sides were—”
“Let’s dispense with the formalities and start the race!” Zelvia said impatiently.
“All right,” Viggo reluctantly agreed. “The two competitors are—uh … let me see … Darcy!” Darcy bowed like a gentleman. The wild horses cheered and stamped their hooves. “And Kassel!” There was only a trickle of support among the horses. Dilah called out, “You can do it!” and Ankel furiously clapped his paws.
“The starting point of the race is, well, it’s right here. Both competitors must run to—ahem—that dead tree in the distance, then turn around and run back. The first one back here is the winner.”
Darcy and Kassel lined up, facing the dead tree in the distance. Darcy sarcastically wished Kassel good luck. The tension in Kassel’s heart was written all over her face. She glanced back at Ankel and Dilah, clearly terrified for their safety should she lose. Ankel crept over to Kassel and whispered something in her ear. Kassel looked down and listened attentively, then nodded.
“Ready, set … go!” Viggo shouted in his squeaky old voice.
Kassel and Darcy took off, galloping as fast as they could on the bumpy terrain, manes and tails whipping behind them, hooves kicking up dust and thundering against the hard dirt. Dilah and Ankel stood in front of the watching horses, trying to make out Kassel and Darcy amid the dust. Darcy seemed relaxed. Kassel trailed a few paces behind and though she fought to keep up, the gap between them was widening slowly.
A rare smile crossed Zelvia’s lips as Darcy pulled farther ahead. Some of the horses cheered. Dilah paced back and forth, squinting anxiously into the dust cloud. He glanced over at Ankel, who sat on the ground, an expression of concentration and confidence on his face.
Darcy seemed dissatisfied with his lead and picked up the pace another notch. His long, slender limbs appeared to fly over the earth, kicking up gravel in all directions. Dilah watched Kassel closely: The younger horse had noticed Darcy speeding up and was straining to catch up, sweat foaming on her coat, but the gap between them continued to increase.
A number of the wild horses stopped watching at this point. Darcy was so far in front they assumed he would win. The race had lost its suspense. But Ankel still sat there, riveted. So Dilah kept watching, trusting in his friend.
A few moments later, Dilah noticed that Darcy was slowing down. Had he run out of steam? No … on closer inspection, squinting into the distance, Dilah realized that Darcy’s hooves seemed to have trouble handling the jagged rocks on the ground.
Though Darcy tried to hide it, his pace grew hesitant as he tried to pick the smoothest route toward the tree. Kassel, however, maintained her original speed, showing no sign of discomfort. The gap between them started to shrink rapidly. Dilah yelped with joy and excitement. The smile had vanished from Zelvia’s face. What had happened?
A few paces away from the dead tree, Kassel caught up to Darcy. The wild horses burst into an uproar.
“Woohoo—awesome!” Dilah yelled. A few of the horses cheered.
Kassel reached the dead tree, turned gracefully, and galloped back toward the watching horses, tossing her head jubilantly. Darcy was clearly flustered and struggling but he kept his head down. The tide had thoroughly turned. Darcy trailed farther and farther behind as Kassel raced to the finish line. As she reached it, the horses erupted in excitement. Dilah yapped excitedly, jumping up to congratulate his friend.
Darcy crossed the finish line moments afterward, limping slightly, the arrogant smile on his face replaced by shame.
The crowd of horses went wild as Viggo officially announced Kassel as the winner. They stamped their hooves in appreciation, the earth shaking from the rumble. Even those who had laughed at Kassel minutes ago gazed on her with new respect. Dilah sensed this would start to change how the herd felt about domesticated beasts.
Zelvia stood grim faced and silent, watching his failed champion, his eyes burning.
“You’ve embarrassed me, you worthless piece of trash!” he hissed. Darcy hung his head.
“According to the terms agreed upon before the race, Kassel is allowed to return to your tribe without any conditions, and we can go,” Ankel said to Zelvia.
“Of course …” Zelvia said grudgingly, and Dilah could tell that every word felt like pulling teeth. “I never go back on my promises.”
Words can’t express how grateful I am to you, my friends!” Kassel said to Dilah and Ankel as they drew away from the crowd to say their farewells. The sun was low in the sky, its blue deepening to violet. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You don’t need to thank us,” Dilah said, smiling. “Knowing that you can stay with your herd is enough.”
“I’ll walk with you for a bit, to see you off,” Kassel suggested.
The three young friends walked southward across the Kvik Valley, surrounded by rocky hills. The desert turned from gold to red, a fiery glow lighting the horizon. A few crows perched on dead branches, swathed in evening sunlight, their drawn-out caws echoing across the valley.
“Ankel, I still can’t figure it out—how did Darcy end up losing to me?” Kassel asked.
“It’s not that Darcy did poorly—any of the wild horses would’ve had the same problem,” Ankel said, grinning.
Dilah frowned. “But Kassel is a wild horse.”
“True, but she’s different from the others,” Ankel said. “Well, she is now.”
“Different?” Kassel asked.
Dilah suddenly understood. “Of course!”
Kassel still looked blank.
“You’re still the same as them. You just happened to benefit from human wisdom,” Ankel said.
“The horseshoes?” Kassel asked, her eyes widening.
“Yup. Zelvia despises humans, but you have to admit they know quite a lot.”
Kassel shook her head. “I still don’t understand, Ankel.”
“Humans don’t put horseshoes on their horses to mark them as slaves, but to protect hooves from sharp stones and rough terrain, so that horses can run safely even on this rocky ground. Your horseshoes shouldn’t be a sign of shame: You might not have wanted them, but they’re a powerful tool,” Ankel said, smiling at Kassel kindly.
“Is that why you suggested the race should happen on the mountain?” Dilah asked, full of admiration for his clever friend.
Ankel nodded. “Kassel had no chance of winning a short-distance race held on level ground, but on difficult terrain, she had an advantage.”
Kassel blinked. “I remember what you whispered to me before the race …”
“I told you to keep running no matter what, even if you were losing. I was worried you’d lose heart after falling behind at the beginning.”
“Did you see the look on Zelvia’s face after you won, Kassel?” Dilah said, laughing.
“Priceless!” Kassel snorted.
The three laughed and joked as the
y walked through the dusk, so it was only when they briefly fell silent that Dilah’s ears suddenly pricked up. He hadn’t been concentrating before, but now he could hear faint sounds echoing through the rocky outcrops on their left. The sounds quickly grew closer. He heard the scratch of multiple footsteps padding over the ground, and soft panting. He whirled around, and froze in fear as he realized who was emerging from the long shadows nearby.
A dozen or so blue foxes, headed by a lean white fox with deep-set, bloodshot eyes, his hind leg dragging. Carl. The pack was travel worn and dusty, but their eyes gleamed as they ran toward Dilah, whose paws felt as if they were glued to the sun-warmed ground. Carl’s eyes narrowed as they fixed on him.
Ankel and Kassel turned to their friend questioningly. “Is that—” Ankel started.
“Yes. That’s Carl,” Dilah said, his voice weak with fear. He’d thought Carl and the blue foxes had lost his trail, assuming him dead and the moonstone lost.
“We finally found you.” Carl beamed, his sharp teeth catching the dying sunlight. “Long time no see, Dilah. You’ve grown.”
“H-how did you know I was still alive?” Dilah asked, his voice trembling, glad of Ankel and Kassel standing close on either side.
“When we didn’t find your body under the cliff, I ordered my foxes to search for the moonstone along the beach. Eventually, we picked up your tracks. We lost you a few times, but at last …” He gazed hungrily at the moonstone package around Dilah’s neck.
Dilah backed away slightly, his fur bristling.
“I’m sure you can guess why I’ve come, but this time it’s different …” Carl paused, his face serious. “I want us to work together.”
“What?” Dilah hadn’t expected this.
“Yes. I need your help.” Carl limped closer to Dilah. “You know how to use the moonstone, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Dilah coldly replied.
“Don’t try to fool me,” Carl growled. “I’ve noticed your direction—it’s straight and true. You know where you’re heading, which means something is guiding you. I’m certain you’ve figured out how to use the moonstone to find Ulla’s secret treasure.”
Dilah was silent.
Carl softened his voice. “That’s why we need to work together. If I were to steal the moonstone from you, I’d waste time figuring out how to use it. It’d be better—”
“It’d be better to make Dilah go with you to find the treasure, and then get rid of him at the earliest opportunity, so that you could have the treasure all to yourself?” Ankel finished for him, drawing himself up tall.
“Who are you?” Carl scowled. “And this one too?” He gazed up at Kassel, snarling.
“It’s none of your business who we are,” Ankel said, his voice full of disdain. Kassel tossed her head dismissively.
“Did Dilah make a couple of friends?” Carl looked at Ankel with contempt, then continued, returning his attention to Dilah. “Whatever. You’re a smart fox. You’ve come a long way on your own, but you can imagine the difficulties and obstacles you’ll face on the rest of your journey. You can’t find Ulla’s treasure alone—or with these two creatures. But if us foxes work together, I know we can make it. What do you say?”
“What about Jens?” Dilah asked, realizing the patriarch of the foxes was missing from the pack.
“He’s gone.” Carl spoke slowly and deliberately, his expression unreadable. “Tragically killed by an avalanche.”
Despite the sun’s waning heat, Dilah felt cold to his core.
“I’m the new patriarch, Dilah. You might say that helping me is your duty as an Arctic fox.” He swished his tail. “So, what’s your answer?”
Dilah didn’t have to think twice. “No, never! I’d never work with you,” he said firmly.
“You’re sure you won’t regret it?”
“Of course I won’t regret it!” Dilah said bluntly. “You would have killed me for the moonstone before. How can I possibly trust you now?”
“Then it seems that our negotiations have failed …” Carl barked out a command and the blue foxes began closing in on Dilah and his friends.
“So this is how you foxes like to solve problems,” Ankel said.
“Let’s start with this pesky weasel,” Carl said, narrowing his eyes at Ankel. “Although he’s little more than a snack …”
“Then throw me in as the main course, and you’ll have plenty to fill everyone up!” Kassel stepped forward, shielding Ankel. “If you can catch me, that is.”
Carl looked up and stared icily at Kassel, as though he’d just noticed her.
“This is none of your business, wild horse. Get out of the way!” Carl snarled.
“And if I won’t?”
“Dilah’s a fugitive from our fox clan. I’m taking him back now. Stay out of our fox affairs!” Carl warned, his sharp teeth bared. Despite his lame leg, the white fox was strong and muscular—and he had twelve blue warriors at his back. Dilah knew Kassel couldn’t withstand them all. He hated the thought of his friends getting hurt.
“Take Ankel away, Kassel. Let me handle this,” Dilah said, his voice low and persuasive. “Please.”
But the horse shook her head. “No. I will never abandon a friend in a time of need!” Kassel proudly declared. She turned to face Carl. “I don’t care if he’s a fugitive—I won’t let you have Dilah.”
“As you wish …” Carl barked a second command.
In the blink of an eye, several Arctic foxes pounced on the horse, digging their sharp claws into her back. She reared up, the whites of her eyes rolling. A few foxes lost their grip, tumbling to the ground and leaving streaks of blood on Kassel’s white coat.
“Ankel, hide!” Dilah shouted desperately. He knew the weasel couldn’t survive a fox attack. Ankel retreated quickly behind a nearby rock, hiding in the deepening shadow.
The rest of the foxes charged at Kassel’s legs, her tail, her neck. Kassel bucked, desperately trying to shake the foxes off her body—but there were too many. Dilah rushed over to help, but he was knocked down and slammed hard into a rock. His head felt heavy; the world around him spun. As he regained focus, he realized Carl was standing over him, viciously staring him down, his sharp claws pinning him to the ground. In the sky above them, the moon was rising and stars began to dot the velvet sky.
“Tell me the secret of the moonstone!” Carl growled.
“Never!”
Dilah clenched his teeth and kicked upward with all his might, his paws connecting with the patriarch’s belly. Carl was caught off guard and fell backward onto the sandy earth ballooning around him in a cloud. Dilah started to run over to Kassel but Carl recovered quickly, lunging at him a second time and easily overpowering the younger fox. Dilah’s head hit the ground once more, his ears ringing. Carl nipped at the seaweed cord around his neck and tore the moonstone from his chest. He dangled it over Dilah’s face. Dilah tried his best to break free, but Carl was too strong.
“You’re still a far cry from your father,” Carl said, gazing down at the smaller fox.
Dilah’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” he said.
Nearby, Kassel neighed fiercely and Carl’s attention was drawn away. The horse’s two front hooves flew up as she kicked out with extraordinary power, flinging an entire clutch of foxes off her body. The Arctic foxes retreated, slinking into the shadows. Kassel was fuming, the veins on her forehead bulging, her nostrils flaring and sweat foaming alongside the blood on her coat. Now she had the upper hand. Her front hooves stomped down on a vixen rushing toward her. Kassel bucked her back hooves, and a second fox was knocked into the air, landing several paces away and staying motionless on the ground. The other foxes circled Kassel warily now, bristling with nerves.
“Attack!” Carl demanded of his remaining foxes, still disregarding the small fox under his paws.
Dilah took the opportunity: He snatched the moonstone back from Carl’s jaws and set the package firmly in his mouth. Carl’s attention
snapped toward him and Dilah growled, low and deep.
Hooves pounded the earth nearby. Kassel was charging at breakneck speed, right toward Carl and Dilah. The patriarch leapt out of her path, releasing Dilah, who scrambled to his feet, the moonstone safe in his mouth. Kassel skidded to a halt, her hooves furiously scratching the ground, kicking up plumes of dust. A safe distance away, Carl seethed with rage, his chest heaving violently.
“Attack her!” he barked again, but when the remaining blue foxes hesitated once more, Kassel rushed forward aggressively. The Arctic foxes scattered in panic. Despite the blood streaking her white coat, Kassel was stronger and there was nothing Carl could do about it.
“Today’s your lucky day,” Carl hissed at Dilah, “but we’ll meet again, Dilah—and if your big friend isn’t around, you’d better be afraid.” He turned away and slunk into the dark red remains of the dusk, his blue pack following at his heels.
Ankel peeked out from behind his rock, joining Dilah and Kassel when he saw the foxes had left.
“Are you all right?” Kassel asked the two smaller animals.
“That’s what we should be asking you,” Ankel said. “You’re covered in blood.”
But Kassel tossed her head dismissively. “Pah! Just scratches. When I was a young foal and my mother taught me to run, I often fell and ended up hurt much worse than this.”
“Kassel,” Dilah started, “without your help today, we wouldn’t have …”
“Consider it a thank-you.”
“Carl and the foxes are still nearby. We need to lose them,” Dilah said. “And you need to get back to your herd and recover. Let’s say goodbye.”
But Kassel shook her head. “Before we do, I have an idea to help you ditch the foxes as quickly as possible …”
“Woo-hoo—this is so cool!” Ankel shrieked. He rode on Kassel’s back as the horse barreled along, his small paws clutching her mane, his whole body whipping in the wind. “I’m flying!”
Dilah laughed as he too held on tight. Kassel galloped through the yellow valley. At full speed, no longer checking her pace so Dilah and Ankel could keep up, she was impossibly fast. Behind them, the huge red moon rose higher and higher. Dilah yapped loudly, enjoying the thrill of the speed.