“Of course you’re riding,” Cecily insisted. “Lilian won’t mind you borrowing Lilith, and who knows when we’ll have weather as beautiful as today’s again.” She pointed at the door where the autumn landscape stretched beyond.
“Lilith is super smart,” Myra added with a reassuring smile. “She won’t give you a hard time.”
Lilith let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort of judgement. I glared at the helmet in my hand. Lilith. I could only hope they’d named her like people named those small dogs. Drastically unsuited.
The frost-covered meadow shimmered in the sunlight outside the stables. Cecily galloped ahead while Myra stayed by my side on Acorn’s back. I guided Lilith on foot, holding her bridle. She was right, Lilith seemed harmless. At least for now. But I still felt more comfortable moving on my own.
“How come you’ve never been here before?” Myra asked, her voice almost fully muted by the wind. “At Thornhill.”
I looked up at her, the sun warming my cheeks. “My mum never told me about her family,” I answered.
She tipped her head, pulling Acorn’s reins. “And you were never curious?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I guess I wasn’t.” I always accepted our small family of two. “And what about you?”
Myra pursed her lips, thinking. “Lilian took us in a little more than a month ago. We lived in a children’s home before.”
So theywereorphans like me. Cecily turned Ghost around, circling back toward us and halting just a few meters ahead.
“It’s such an amazing day, isn’t it?” she asked from the saddle. “Come on, Elodie, give good old Lilith a go.”
I glanced at the dark horse, and, as if sensing it, she did the same, turning her massive head toward me and nudging my shoulder with her nose. I flinched, pulling my head away, but I still pet her muzzle and her stark white blaze. She was soft, almost silky.
“You just have to hold on.” Myra smiled.
I bit the inside of my cheek. That didn’t sound as promising as she must have thought. I looked into the horse’s warm eyes and sighed. Placing my boot into the stirrup like I’d seen the girls do, I pulled myself up, the muscles straining in my arms. Lilith shifted beneath me, and my breath caught, my grip tightening around the saddle’s edge. But she didn’t throw me. She moved slowly, like she understood. Like she was letting me try. I felt a strange mix of unease and excitement as her powerful muscles moved beneath me like a waterbed as she slowly bounded forward.
“There you go!” Cecily called, trotting closer with a wide grin. “See? Now we can stay together.”
I kept my eyes on Lilith, still half-expecting her to decide she would throw me off, but she just kept walking with ease. At least one of us was relaxed. The distance slowly stretched between us and the stables. The chilly air clawed through my hair, its fingers tangling in the strands while it drew roses onto my cheeks. It was colder up here, exposed on Lilith’s back, but she radiated warmth beneath me like a moving fireplace.
We had just reached the middle of the frost-dusted meadow when a dark shape flickered at the edge of my vision. It was drifting near the tree line, like a shadow pulled loose from the earth. My palms grew slick around the reins. It followed me after all.
I glared around warily, but saw no threat. Maybe it was different this time. Maybe it was just letting me know that I could never escape it. I forced my eyes away, willing the shadow to vanish, but it glided closer, drifting soundlessly across the meadow like a lost ghost.
My breath hitched when it passed Myra’s horse, and Acorn reared. Myra slid back on the saddle, tossing her grip. Cecily screamed like she herself was in pain as her sister hit the ground with a sickening thud. Acorn continued into a gallop while Ghost pawed the ground. Lilith stayed still, unbothered. Cecily dismounted and ran to her sister, kneeling beside her in the dewy grass. The shadow vanished as if it too got scared of its own actions.
I scanned the meadow, cautiously, then I nudged Lilith forward. She didn’t move. Instead, she sniffed at the frosted grass, unfazed by the disturbance. I climbed off her back, taking the distance between me and the twins on foot.
Myra sat on a log, gripping her shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut with pain. Cecily mumbled something into her ear, and that was the first time I couldn’t hear her clearly. Until now, she seemed incapable of speaking at anything less than full volume.
“I’m sorry, I must’ve scared you.” Myra suddenly looked up with her big honey-molten eyes. “I don’t know what happened.”
I blinked.
She’d just fallen off a horse and she was worried about scaring me?
“Are you alright?” I asked, twisting my bracelet, the cold calming my nerves.
She nodded. “It’s probably just a sprain.” She smiled, though it seemed forced. The fall looked much more serious to be just a sprain. “What have you got there?” she asked while Cecily checked her over. My fingers tensed around the crystals. When I didn’t answer, Myra tilted her head with a flinch. I hesitated, then lifted the sleeve of my sweater revealing the green bracelet.
“It was a gift from my mum.”
She nodded, and I tucked the crystals back into the safety of my sleeve.
A loud neigh echoed across the meadow, drawing my attention to the horses. Ghost chased Acorn into a full gallop, and the two of them ran further away by the second, while Lilith remained exactly where I’d left her. Sniffing at the grass, snorting occasionally—probably the frost stinging her nose.
When I turned back to the girls, Myra was on her feet, circling her shoulder.
