“Good.” Mum scrolled and tapped at her phone, opening an email. Then she pulled from her jacket pocket a small clay bowl, a pack of matches, and a few plastic bags of what looked like dried herbs and stones. “I’ll explain what I’m doing so you both know, too.”
I nodded, looking at Ermie out of the corner of my eye. He was trying very hard to not look like he was watching or caring.
Mum put some small black stones, which stained her fingers, into the little bowl. “Charcoal. Smaller pieces light better. The big chunks are a pain. Anyway,” she struck a match, “this is a very simple spell. I’ve already mixed the herbs, and I’ll share the list with you later, Heather. There are several that are frequently used in psychic and communication spells. The sound of the bell will be in our heads, all three of us. For that effect, Kay told me to use bellflower, which happens to be in bloom now.” From her back pocket, Mum pulled out a napkin-wrapped bouquet of the purple and blue flowers that grew on the embankment below the garden wall. I guess all this prep was what she’d been doing when she’d left dinner early. The thought made me think of Joe, who was always prepared. When we’d been making our plan on capturing the kelpie, he’d covered just about every detail, from weapons to bait to even having an extra torch.
We all grew silent as Mum squatted over the bowl, sprinkled on the herbs, and placed one of the plucked flowers on top. I wrinkled my nose as the fresh flowers wilted. They smelled… well, not as nice as I imagined burning flowers smelling, but not as bad as when Lily left her curling iron on her hair too long. Picking up and settling the bowl on a thick towel in her hand, she brought it over to us. Mum fanned the wisps of smoke. “None shall pass this threshold without our knowledge. Any passage shall be as clear as a pure bell ringing within our minds.”
Ermie wrinkled his nose, but didn’t back away or sneeze on the smoldering pot. Mum walked out of the stable, and we followed. She started walking anticlockwise around the barn, which she said was also for protection. However, when we got to the back half of the kelpie’s pen, the ground was sodden and wet from the little pond he’d made on this side—worse, probably from the earlier rainstorm. Mum had to quickly step back to keep from sinking a good inch or two.
Shall I carry you? Ermie asked.
“Yes, that would be good of you,” Mum said.
Once we were all situated on Ermie’s back, Mum told him to walk slowly as she fanned the smoke and added fresh flowers to the charcoal. She kept repeating her “None shall pass…” words. It didn’t rhyme or anything, like the other spells I’d heard or seen, but I could feel it like the other spells, like the gentle hum of static electricity against my skin or that quiet in church after a hymn is done. Even in my nose, when I breathed, I felt that sensation. It didn’t scare me though; it was comforting.
Upon reaching the front entrance of the small stable again, we dismounted, and Mum left the little pot at the entrance of the barn, still smoking, and had us collect our blades. Looking at Ermie, she stated in her no-argument tone, “I’m heading inside now. If we have visitors, I’ll be out immediately. Also, Heather is armed and she has her phone. If anything happens to her…”
I understand the consequences. He wrinkled his nose, showing his teeth, even though he kept his head at his shoulders in submission. To just me, I “heard” him add, Not that I would let any harm come upon you. I do not know what that might do to me. It might be far worse than your wee iron blades.
And here I thought we were becoming friends, I mentally shot back.
Before our conversation could continue, Mum added over her shoulder, “And…as Michael and Jack did salt around the big barn, it would make sense if you checked that, too.” With one more nod, Mum left the stable, taking her iron blade with her.
Ermie shot his head up and stared at my mother. He didn’t say anything, and while I could sense he was feeling a number of emotions, I also sensed he did not want me to know what he was thinking.
So I did my best to pull my mind away from his. Because friends respect privacy.
And as annoying as he was, part of me, I realized, really did want us to be friends.
It wasn’t a far walk from Ermie’s stable to where my dad and Mr. McInnis had laid down the salt. I didn’t see it right away, but Ehrwnmyr nearly yanked my arm out of my shoulder as he stopped short of it, backing up.
That will work.
“So, why does the salt line work on you when magick isn’t supposed to? And Mum’s bell spell thing?”
I gave her permission and willingly submitted to her spell. The barrier is not a spell cast upon me. Its effect is on the area. He paused. If I really wanted, I could cross it. But it would be extremely uncomfortable. For others, it would result in pain, illness, or worse, depending upon their intent.
I nodded, grimacing.
Those who would breach this would hurt or kill anyone on this property, yet you are uncomfortable with them getting hurt to prevent this? Really, you are precious.
I glared at him. “Stop calling me that! Unless you mean to say I’m, like, some…rare treasure.” I tossed my waist-length braids the way he tossed his mane. I was rather proud of them, and really, that little bit of vanity wasn’t a fraction of his.
Ermie cocked his head and regarded me as we started to follow the perimeter of the salt line. You are. To your family and loved ones. That is why they are going to such lengths to protect you. He nodded his head at the salt. This will, indeed, keep out the red caps, and they are as stubborn as they are pernicious. It is only to me that your sympathy and pacifism hasn’t value as a treasure.
“I doubt it has much value to Calbraith and the red caps.”
On the contrary. It has much. If only for the purpose of using it to torture you and get you to do as they want, for the sake of preventing pain and violence to the ones you love, even the ones you don’t exactly love. The more you wish to prevent others’pain, the more they will use it to force your hand. Or…to entertain them.
“Thanks for that set of perfect nightmares.” I shivered in the damp air, despite the sun.
Would you rather I give you an unrealistic portrayal of the situation and leave you unprepared?
“I wish. But, realistically, no.”
I knew you had some wisdom within you.
I rolled my eyes, even though I had a sense this was another somewhat-compliment, which was definitely better than his usual insults. We followed the barrier around the shire stable. The mares danced nervously as Oppie made a show of running at the fence, ready to kick it down. Ermie had nearly killed him when they’d last met.
I stopped us. “Any chance you can tell without getting any closer? I don’t want them breaking out.”
Ermie tossed his head and took a step towards the Shire stable. I could sense him looking down his nose at Oppie, half-ready to put the Shire stallion in his place.
I lightly smacked his shoulder with the loose end of the lead rope. “Focus! Salt line. Working or not?”
He snorted at me. I cannot tell at this distance. But, to elaborate on my theory, if nothing else, your father is thorough. Likely to a fault, I’d not be surprised. If you would rather me not agitate your poor, mortal beast, we should be able to move on without much concern. The kelpie lazily turned around, tail up, neck arched, chest puffed, and sauntered away from the Shire horses.
“Really?” I muttered, elbowing his hip, which made him snicker out loud and in my head. “And you’re not supposed to be leading me!”
He paused, midstep, one front hoof off the ground, and watched me move around him out of the corner of his eye. I cannot leave your side without your permission, and your mother made it quite clear I could not abandon you to harm. You needn’t the rope.
“We need to practice you at least trying to act like a horse if we’re ever going to be around other people.”
Your mother mentioned nothing like that. His tone was teasing.
“No. But if we do, you know, start to get along, and you actually want to do stuff with m
e, we’ll have to keep it hidden that you’re a kelpie.” It was my turn to regard him sidelong as he chewed on that bit of information.
Since we couldn’t get closer to the Shire stable, we had to backtrack to go around the salt to make it to the big barn. We didn’t say anything during the walk, but it was, surprisingly, a comfortable silence. As we approached the main stable, though, I knew we were in trouble. People were out there. Wasn’t everyone supposed to be inside? Crap!
“Heather!” It was Max’s voice. He started to jog over. Behind him, I recognized Coach David.
Crap! I shouted in my head to Ermie so hard, he stepped away from me. A million issues buzzed in my head. The first one that formed itself into a mind-spoken sentence was, Make yourself look like a normal horse and…not a stallion.
I could tell he got the gist of what I meant by “not a stallion” as his response in my head made me think of those comic book lightning clouds of “#$%!”
We’re not allowed stallions at camp. If the coach sees you…intact, there will be a huge issue of you going near the other horses, and if I say Mum said I could, it looks like I’m getting special treatment for being her kid.
There were a few more unworded, rebellious cuss sentiments as he tossed his head. I saw the vaguest shimmer of his glamour and sensed his submission to my command, even though he felt it foolish and somewhat offensive to his “stallion-hood.” “Is that the new horse you were talking about?” Max asked me, smiling as he started walking beside me. “He is beautiful. And he does look a lot like Stormy.”
Stupid horse name.
Ignoring my irritated kelpie, who took a long sniff in the direction of Max, I continued towards the main stable. While my family’s herd all shared a run-in, most of the horses each had individual stalls that opened into their own turnouts to avoid fights between horses who didn’t know each other. The few who we knew got along or who had arrived together also got to share a turnout area. Mum, Ginny, and Mickey work together to do a lot of planning before the camp even happens. As Coach David approached me, I knew I had bigger problems.
“Heather, is your mother around?”
“She was just with me, but she got a text and ran inside but told me to find you out here while I took my horse for a walk. He’s been antsy all day.”
“Antsy?” Right. Good word for being stuck in a pen, knowing what is out here.
Not. Helping. I thought back at him, continuing to speak as the coach raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’ll text her so you know.” Mum was a writer. She totally made stuff up for a living! I pulled out my phone and texted, “Coach David wants to make sure you know I found him by the main stable safely like you said to do,” and hit send, passing the phone to him.
It seemed to take forever for the phone to buzz-ring back. I figured Mum was doing some quick investigation on some detail to cover us. After all, it was her rule that none of us were supposed to be outside without an adult. And I couldn’t exactly tell Coach David that I was pretty sure that being four hundred years old made Ermie an adult, and the fact he was soul-bound to me made him responsible. Maybe.
“So, what’s his name?” Max asked, holding out his hand for Ermie to sniff. Ermie snorted, taking a step back and looking over Max’s head towards the turnouts. “Easy boy, I won’t hurt you.”
“His name’s Ehrwnmyr. Ermie for short.”
“That’s an odd name. Does it mean something in some language?”
Ermie snorted again. From the “ick” and step of Max, I’m pretty sure it was a bogey-filled one, too.
I shrugged, eyes still on my phone in Coach David’s hand. “It’s the name he came with.”
The phone sang and buzzed with Mum’s reply. With a nod, the coach handed it back to me. “Tell her she’s welcome, I didn’t get the text, but Stormy’s calmed down a lot more now.” He offered me a smile. “I didn’t mean to accuse. Your mom just seemed very worried about the dog attacks and reminded us all at dinner to not let any of you, even one of you—” I figured he meant me and my siblings, “—outside without supervision.”
I typed all that in, concealing a sigh of relief, and asked, “Is Stormy on the other side of the stable? Can we see him, too? Mum said they looked a lot alike.”
“They do.” Coach David gave Ermie an appraising look. “They’re both impressive. And from what I hear, both are pretty headstrong boys.”
Behind me, Ermie turned what I knew was his “chuckle,” normally an eerie, almost-human sound, into more of a horselike whuffle.
Coach David continued, “If you two can build strong relationships with them and condition their temperament a bit more, I bet they would make great eventing horses. Dressage, even. They’re not too drafty.”
Eventing? Dressage?
Things people do with our horses, like competitions and shows and stuff. Coach David trains people in the States to compete all over the globe, I answered. I still sensed his confusion, which was fine. It wasn’t like I could actually use him in a competition. Ten times stronger and faster than regular horses? Yeah, that would go over well. Knowing some of the high-level show people I knew, he’d be less investigated if he swallowed someone’s spoiled kid whole than if he over-performed.
You’re not blocking your thoughts, and that was an extremely entertaining idea that I fully support.
It was all I could do to not stop short and jab my elbow into his chest. Not that I had a chance to, though, as he stopped as soon as we had a clear view of the other side of the turnouts.
He snorted deeply several times, tail up, chest puffed, eyes almost bugging.
Coach David put a hand on my shoulder. “I think this is far enough. I’d rather not get either of them worked up. We should head back.”
“One sec,” I said, looking at Stormy who, for his part, had frozen in place, staring at Ermie. “Please.” Calm the crap down or Coach David won’t let us see him better.
It is… He is… He started to say, waves of sadness and… something else…in his words. Then he snapped. I don’t answer to your Coach David!
But I do. And if he says we have to leave, I have to make you leave or there will be problems.
Ermie snorted again, then shook himself. He relaxed his stance some. Three turnouts down, so did Stormy.
“There. Maybe they are related, and they recognize each other,” I said, hoping that would explain their odd behavior. Ermie snorted again, and I felt the equivalent of a comic-book exclamation point in my head. With no further explanation, I decided to continue. “I think we can get closer now.” Of course, I could see the salt line around the perimeter of the turnouts, and Ermie had to stay away from that anyway. Without waiting for approval, I headed towards Stormy.
“So, if you don’t know what his name means, why did you keep it?” Max pressed. He was walking on my other side now, some distance from Ermie.
“It seemed to fit. And he likes it.”
No comment came from the kelpie gallery. In fact, all I felt was almost a high-pitched strum of energy and emotion. It made my own heart beat harder and faster. Looking at Max’s hurt face, I realized my answer to him had been clipped. I offered a smile. “Sorry, it’s just… I want him to get used to the other horses, so we don’t have to keep him separated.”
“The other horses seem more nervous around him,” Coach David said. And they were. I knew they were. Nearly all had slunk back into their stalls and watched us warily through the doorways.
“And Stormy hasn’t taken his eyes off him,” Max added.
I sensed him about to question us getting closer, and I totally sensed that this meant a lot to Ermie, though he was hiding an awful lot, so I quickly asked Max, “So, did you name Stormy or was that the name he came with?”
“He came with the name, but it had been storming, a bad lightning storm, that morning before he arrived. And it’s a cool-sounding name, I thought.”
Still no comment from Ermie. He may not have even been paying attention to our conversation at all.
<
br /> “It is. And I think Ehrwnmyr sounds cool too. And Ermie.” Actually, Ermie made him sound almost cute, I thought, which could very well be problematic, all things considered.
“Fair enough,” Max said, giving me a shy smile.
I returned his smile, though my focus was more on Ermie, who was both strutting and wary, eyes absolutely glued on the other horse. We were almost to Stormy’s turnout.
“Heather, I think this is close enough.” Coach David’s voice was more of a command. “I’ve never seen horses act like this before.”
No!
“Hold up,” I said, wiggling Ermie’s lead rope. I hadn’t either, but I knew these weren’t horse-horses, too.
No!
Before I could form some command in my head, Ermie jerked his head hard, pulling the rope from my hands with a burn. In two canter-paces, he was by the gate. He and Stormy trotted back and forth, sniffing each other’s noses and snorting deep grunts, more normal horse behavior, but not much less scary.
I started to run to them when Coach David grabbed my shoulder and pulled me behind him. “Don’t get between them, Heather. They could fight.”
If only I could tell my coach that the equine he was nearest to could kill him faster than any other horse.
Be good for Coach David! Don’t hurt him! I mentally shouted, trying to stay close to the coach. Max, then, grabbed my arm, concern in his indigo eyes.
“Don’t. It’s not worth getting hurt over. Coach knows far more about horses than either of us if they’re going to fight.”
I yanked my arm from Max. Coach didn’t know about kelpies, though.
Coach David was approaching from an angle that left him the most room to get away if he had to. I saw Ermie’s eye on him.
Please, don’t hurt him! You promised you would be good if we let you see Stormy!
Whickering, the kelpie stepped back from the fence and the salt line. Stormy put his head over to sniff more. Ermie reached to him, licked his nose, and trotted a wide circle around Coach David and back to my side.
There was no mischief caused save for your reactions. His voice in my head was soft and, dare I say, gentle. Let me see your hand that held the rope. I opened it up for him, scowling at the bright red. He nuzzled it, and though I couldn’t see through the glamour, I felt the brush of the tentacle fur. Then, he totally shocked me with a sloppy lick across the hand. It will heal. I apologize for causing you pain.
The Earl's Childe Page 16