by Steve Farley
Alec took a deep breath and tried to take stock of what he needed to do now. Medio was dead. There was no way to tell whether Spiro and the others would blame the Black for causing his death or spoiling their ceremony. No one had tried to prevent Alec and the Black from escaping the place or made any attempt to pursue them when they left. The entire gathering, even the Acracian guard, had just stood there stunned, as if in a collective trance, while Alec had mounted his horse and ridden off. Surely they’d come out of their stupor before long, and Alec didn’t want to be around when they did.
He leaned forward and spoke softly to his horse. They pulled to a stop, and both looked back toward the mountaintop. Alec could see the flaming horse effigy still burning on the distant mountainside. He watched for signs of movement on the road behind him and saw none. Nor could he hear anything but the unnatural silence that always seemed to permeate these woods.
The Black held his head high, his ears pricked. Alec watched the stallion for any signs that the horse sensed something in the wind. After a moment, the stallion dropped his head, seemingly unconcerned. Perhaps Medio’s followers weren’t as loyal as they were professed to be. Certainly no one seemed to be chasing after him, Alec thought, at least not yet.
Questions raced through his mind, and he forced himself to think ahead. He still had no idea how to get out of this place. Would the guards try to stop them when they passed through the acropolis? Were the citizens of Acracia evacuating the city after the quake, or was the main gate still closed?
They reached the fork in the road, and Alec turned the Black toward Tarta. He could only hope Xeena was still there.
In the distance he could see the tower, and soon they reached the outskirts of the town. Alec found his way to the cottage where Nicholas lived and was relieved to see Xeena in the yard with her grandfather. Nicholas was trying to get the front door back on its hinges. He stopped working when he saw the Black and Alec.
Alec jumped down from his horse’s back.
“You found him,” Xeena said. “Where was he?”
“Don’t ask,” he said, “I can’t even begin to tell you.”
“Come have a glass of water,” Nicholas said, leading Alec through the open doorway. “It will clear your thoughts.”
Xeena stayed with the Black, who lowered his head and began grazing hungrily on Nicholas’s overgrown lawn.
“You were at the temple ceremony?” Nicholas said as they stepped through the open doorway. Alec didn’t answer, but the man must have read Alec’s expression and guessed the truth. “Then you know,” he said.
Inside, the house was in shambles, with piles of broken dishes and glass, collapsed shelves and cracked walls. Alec took a drink of water and felt new strength spiral through his head and body. It made him talkative suddenly, and Nicholas listened as Alec told him what had happened at the temple atop Mt. Atnos.
Nicholas smiled. “So Medio is no more,” he said. “The king is dead. Long live the king.” He gave Alec a deferential bow of his head. “You will be a wonderful governor, and all Acracia looks forward to your reign.”
Alec laughed at the thought.
Nicholas’s expression became serious. “That is not a debate, Alec, or a request,” he said. “You and the Black were chosen. You cannot insult the gods by refusing to take your place among them now.”
“We can’t, huh?” Alec said, and laughed again at the absurdity of it all. “Why can’t Spiro be chosen? He is the chamberlain.”
“True,” Nicholas said. “He was the next in line, until your arrival here. But such is Fate. Spiro could never command if you fled the realm. There would be chaos. For Spiro to rule, you would need to meet your fate as Medio did, via the red road—an offering to the sacred mares.”
“Chaos?” Alec said. “That would be an improvement from what I’ve seen around here. This mixed-up paradise of yours could use some chaos.”
“Please consider your position,” Nicholas said. “You cannot defy the will of the gods.”
“Do you seriously think I want to give up my life and stay here, as governor, or king, or guest, or anything else?” Alec said. “And what about Xeena? Do you really believe this is the best place for her?”
Nicholas did not answer, but the mention of Xeena plainly troubled him and he looked vulnerable suddenly. Alec walked back outside and Nicholas followed.
“We have to go,” Alec told Xeena. “We have to get out of here.”
Xeena looked at him. Her voice was stiff. “We can’t leave yet. People could be hurt. They need our help. And what about Popi?”
Alec shook his head. “You don’t understand. We have to get out of here. Right now.”
Nicholas glanced at Alec, a steely serenity in his expression now, as if he had resolved his inner conflicts and made up his mind. Then he put his hands on Xeena’s shoulders and looked her straight in the face. “Alec is right,” he said. “You must leave, child.”
“I’m no child,” Xeena said. “I’m—”
Nicholas gave Xeena a hug. “You are unafraid, Xeena,” he said, “and I respect that. But listen, you must go. It is too late for me. You have drunk only lightly of the water here; perhaps it is not too late for you.”
“We have to go now,” Alec repeated firmly.
Xeena untangled herself from Nicholas’s arms. “I am not going without you,” she said stubbornly.
Alec looked at the young man who he now accepted was indeed Xeena’s grandfather in the body of a man less than half his age. How that happened, he hadn’t a clue, but he had to accept it.
Nicholas shook his head. “I could not join you, even if I wanted to. The effects of Acracian waters come at a price. Without it, not only would the benefits of the blessed nectar be reversed, but also whatever illness, injury or age had been masked by the effects of the water would return, and be compounded.” The young-old man sighed wearily. “I suppose no one really knows. No one has ever left Acracia and returned to say otherwise.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Alec said. “We have to try. We are not staying here.”
“I don’t understand, Popi,” Xeena said. “Your family loves you. You have to come with us. You have to try.”
“Do not grieve for me, Xeena. I am comfortable here. When my time comes, I will go the way of the others before me.”
“But why?” Xeena pleaded.
“I am a citizen of the Acracian realm, loyal in heart, mind, body and soul. Here we do not die from old age or disease, but for loyalty. It is our responsibility to keep in step. If we have violated Nature’s law, we must wait for her judgment.”
Alec listened to Nicholas. He didn’t understand the reasoning, and it didn’t matter anyway. There was no more time to waste.
“We have to go, Xeena,” he said. “Come on.”
The Black suddenly stamped his hooves, lifted his head and shrilled. “Ho,” Alec cried.
Approaching the yard was Spiro flanked by the three white mares and the gray stallion from the temple pit. The horses’ eyes were alight with hunger, their muzzles smeared with blood.
“Salutations, Governor Alexander,” the chamberlain called out. “Your chargers await you.”
Nicholas took Xeena by the hand, and they stepped closer to Alec and the Black for protection. Then, at a vocal cue from Spiro, the four horses spread out and took up positions around the black stallion and the three humans huddled in his shadow. The horses moved at a slow, unhurried walk, their noses close to the ground, like slinking wolves, predators zeroing in for the kill.
These were not horses as Alec knew them, and he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight. How could he fight creatures he could not understand, horses with human blood on their lips?
The circle tightened. With a savage cry, the Black bolted for Nicholas’s cottage, as if trying to draw the flesh-eating horses away from Alec, Xeena and Nicholas. But the mares remained where they were, and only the gray followed. The Black ducked through the open front door of the cottage
, and the gray rushed in after him. The sounds of smashing plates and splintering furniture mixed with the screams of the two stallions. A few seconds later, they came bursting outside and the battle spilled into the front yard.
The three mares watched as the Black broke off the fight and circled around one side of the ruined cottage. The gray stallion responded by climbing a ramp made of sections of fallen roof and slinking over to the edge. As the Black came into range beneath him, the gray leaped down upon him like a mountain lion pouncing on its prey. Then both horses were on the ground, rolling and thrashing their hooves as they tried to get up again.
“Popi!” Xeena cried out.
Alec whirled to see Xeena caught between Nicholas and Spiro. Nicholas had her by one arm and Spiro by the other. Both were pulling her in different directions. Alec rushed at Spiro and knocked him to the ground. Nicholas fell upon Spiro and they began to struggle. Instantly the pack of mares returned to claim their captives.
Xeena dashed away as Nicholas and Spiro wrestled each other on the ground. Alec sprang to his feet. There among the horse pack, he saw the shoe-thieving mare from last night. Her attention was focused on Nicholas and Spiro, her lips pulled back in a wolfish snarl. Both Nicholas and Spiro seemed unaware of the mare as she closed on them and moved in for the kill. The two men were fighting on their knees now, each trying to pin the other to the ground.
Without thinking, Alec took a quick step back and leaped astride the mare’s back. She immediately reared and Alec leaned forward, his legs wrapped around her neck. He locked his ankles and began squeezing with all his strength.
The mare pounded her forehooves in the dirt and then suddenly stopped her bucking and thrashing. She reeled around, shrilling defiantly. A piercing cry answered her. It was the Black, returning from his combat with the gray, who was now nowhere to be seen.
All three mares turned their attention to the stallion charging into their midst. Spiro and Nicholas continued their fighting, Nicholas pleading desperately for Xeena to stay away. Shoe Thief bucked, then shot into the air.
The Black reared back, plainly startled by seeing Alec astride the mare. Shoe Thief lunged at the Black, and the best Alec could do was swing his free hand at her head to try pushing it away from the Black. She pushed back and fought to take hold of the stallion’s neck with her teeth. Alec struck again, and this time the blood-maddened mare turned away from the Black. With one great heaving of her body, she threw herself into the air again. Alec lost his seat and flopped to the ground. In an instant, Xeena was standing over him, giving him a hand and pulling him to his feet.
“Get up,” she cried. “It’s Popi … He pulled me free and then …”
Alec looked to where Nicholas and Spiro had been fighting. Both had fallen beneath the mares’ hooves. The two mares squealed and sparred with each other as they fought over the broken bodies and bloody, ripped-up clothes.
Alec put his arm around Xeena and turned her away. Only a dozen yards off, the Black was still battling Shoe Thief. She reared up, her lips pulling back to show long, sharp teeth. The Black rose on his hind legs to meet her.
Shoe Thief flicked her head and came at the Black’s neck, not trying to take hold this time but nipping almost playfully, letting the stallion feel her teeth, as if it was all just a game. The Black pounded the earth with his hooves. The mare collected herself and stood ready to attack.
There was the sound of onrushing hooves, and Alec spun around to see yet another horse crashing toward them. It was Celera, the albino mare, her head and tail held high. With a defiant war cry, she thundered to a stop, then stepped between the Black and Shoe Thief, her neck arched in disdain. The two other mares trotted over to join their sister and face the albino. Alec took Xeena by the hand and pulled her closer to the Black.
Celera screamed at the mares, and they replied in a chorus of frenzied whinnies and animal snarls as she stood between them and their prey. Celera stood her ground, keeping the other mares back, as if to protect Alec, Xeena and the Black from the flesh-eating white sisters.
The mares hesitated before challenging the ruby-eyed albino. One finally lowered her head and thrust forward. Celera easily sidestepped the charge and let fly with her hind hooves. The white mare crashed to the ground with a squeal of pain. After another moment’s hesitation, her sisters tried to move closer. Celera stamped the ground threateningly and then lunged, striking out with the skill of a practiced warrior.
As the mares fought among themselves, Alec pulled the Black away and swung onto his back. He grabbed Xeena by the arm and pulled her up behind him. “Hang on,” he cried over his shoulder.
The stallion whirled and took off, racing for the road as fast as a horse carrying two riders could run.
“Go, Black, go!” Alec cried.
They startled a herd of goats as they zoomed past. As they turned down the road to the acropolis, Alec heard something behind him, the defiant call of a horse. He turned to see Celera racing after them. Alec urged the Black faster, hoping beyond hope that Xeena could manage to hang on as the stallion lengthened his stride on the open road. He glanced back over his shoulder again. The albino was still there, chasing after them and getting closer. At least there was no sign of the other mares on the road behind her. That was something to be grateful for.
As they reached the outskirts of the acropolis, Alec could see more signs of destruction from the earth tremor here—broken columns, collapsed pillars and stone debris. The Black had to slow down, but so would Celera. What the Black couldn’t get around, he jumped over. Somehow both Alec and Xeena remained on his back.
Celera closed in behind them as they reached an open field that led to the acropolis. Alec spotted a fissure that had been rent in the wall from top to bottom. It was a miracle. The earthquake had opened a passageway to the outside!
This was their only chance, and Alec turned the Black toward it. The stallion saw it, too, and needed no further urging from Alec. He knew where he was going now. The albino kept up her pursuit. Unburdened by one rider, much less two, Celera was soon only a length away and closing.
Celera cried out as she narrowed the gap between them. It was not a war cry this time but a haunting, forlorn, almost pleading sound. Whatever it meant to the Black, he did not stop.
Soon the two horses were running neck and neck toward the jagged opening in the wall. Careening through the passage, they emerged on the stretch of grass lying between the wall and the moatlike canal bordering the city. At last the Acracian walls were behind them, and they were free. What a relief!
The two horses rushed to a place where the canal narrowed to little more than a stream. Reaching the edge at the same instant, the runners leaped into the air, flying across the enchanted waters to the other side.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alec could see something happen to Celera as they touched down on the opposite bank. A whooshing sound filled his ears, like something bursting into flames, much like the sound Alec had heard when the wooden horse caught fire.
The mare didn’t fall, but something was clearly wrong with her. She stumbled to a stop. The Black, too, stumbled and slowed to a halt, breathing hard. Alec let go and both he and Xeena tumbled to the ground, rolling through the grass.
All at once, Alec’s left ankle throbbed with pain, the one he thought he had twisted days before. As Nicholas had warned, all the pain that Alec hadn’t felt for the past few days was returning with a vengeance. His entire body ached as if he had suddenly been struck by an intense case of altitude sickness.
Alec looked up at the Black standing unsteadily beside him, clearly shaken, his body trembling. Xeena lay groaning on the ground. The stallion threw back his head and whinnied to Celera as she tried to come closer.
The mare teetered on her legs and could barely move. She was still standing but was also transforming before Alec’s very eyes, aging years in seconds and then even faster. It was as if she were drying up, as if all the moisture was draining from her body. Suddenly h
er magnificent white coat seemed to turn to paper, wrinkling and cracking and finally dissolving into a heap of dust.
“Alec,” Xeena called. “Are you okay?”
Alec heard Xeena but he didn’t turn to see the girl. His eyes remained fixed, as the Black’s were, on the pile of dust that was all that remained of the albino mare.
“Did you see …” Alec started to say. He blinked, still disbelieving his own eyes. It was true, he realized. Celera was gone.
“What happened to the albino?” Xeena said. “Did she fall in the water?”
Alec shook his head. “She just … vanished.” He pointed to all that was left of the mare, little more than ashes and dust. The Black paced back and forth, waiting and watching, as if trying to reason what was happening. The stallion cautiously approached the ashen remains of Celera, sniffed the ground, then whinnied and pulled back.
A mountain breeze blew up around them suddenly. The breath of wind picked up the pile of dust, and the particles flew into the air, becoming a grayish puff. Alec watched as the dust swirled along like a tiny dust devil, floating back across the stream to the other side. Once there, the swirl turned inside itself, becoming what looked like a cluster of windblown paper, quickly taking on thickness and shape and the form of a white horse. Once returned to the other side of the river, the dust reassembled into Celera, just as quickly as she had dissolved.
The reconstituted albino mare reared up and shrilled to the Black. The stallion cried an answer and charged to the river’s edge but did not jump. He threw back his head and called to the mare again.
Celera stood still, watching him silently. Then, with one last, plaintive cry, she spun around and ran off to vanish beyond the city walls.
The Black watched her go. He cried again, but no answer came. The stallion paced back and forth on the embankment, neighing wildly and pawing the ground as if anxious to jump across the river to the other side.
Alec tried to call out to his horse, but he could barely find the breath to speak. In a minute, the Black stopped his pacing, raised his head and sniffed the wind. Then he turned to where Alec lay sprawled on the ground.