Page 172 of Wind Rider

With a contented sigh, Anjo put her head down. She lay beside Ghost, who was still sleeping soundly. The stallion did not usually spend nights inside River’s tent, but she’d been unwilling to let him out of her sight with the Run looming. Though Anjo assured her he wasn’t nervous at all, Ghost had willingly slept beside Anjo and River.

Not sure what had awakened her, River rearranged her pillows, intending to try to sleep. The lack of any sounds from outside the tent told her that it was before dawn—and the lack of April bursting in and insisting they were going to be late told her it waswellbefore dawn.

“River!”

River sat up in bed, listening intently.

“River!”

Quietly, River tiptoed to the door flap of her tent and peered out into the darkness—and almost accidentally smacked Skye in the face with the flap.

“What are you doing out here?”

“May I come in?” Skye whispered, looking around as if she expected to be followed.

“Well, sure. But keep it down. Anjo and Ghost are sleeping.” River stepped out of the way and Skye followed her quickly inside the tent.

“This will only take a second, and I’m sorry to bother you before the Run, but there’s some things you need to know,” said Skye.

“Then tell me.” River was careful to keep her voice and expression neutral. Since the Mare Test, Skye had stopped the haughty, antagonistic behaviors she’d shown before, but the young woman was still followed around by a cliquish group of girls—most of them April’s age and new Riders. And, of course, she was rarely away from Clayton. River had decided the best way to deal with Skye and Clayton was not to give them the attention they so obviously craved—but the Lead Mare Rider couldn’t help but feel annoyed that Skye, whose life she and Anjo had saved, hadn’t seemed to mature or grow, and was instead still catering to a selfish man and a group of immature girls.

Skye fidgeted nervously. “Do you mind if we sit?”

“I do.” River spoke honestly. “I probably won’t be able to sleep more, but if I’m going to be awake I might as well begin combing out Ghost’s mane and braiding the ribbons into it. So, what is it you need to tell me?”

“I could help you,” Skye said.

River stifled a sigh. Maybe Skye was reaching out to her in friendship—maybe she wanted to change, wanted to be a better mare Rider. River understood it was her responsibility to encourage Skye, even if she’d chosen an inconvenient time.

“Okay, sure. Just wait here while I let Ghost know you’re coming in.”

River went to the far side of the tent, which smelled of horse and the straw bedding that was changed daily. Anjo raised her head, instantly sighting Skye.

Why is she here?

She has to tell me something. Would you wake Ghost and let him know we aren’t alone? Tell him Skye and I are going to begin dressing his mane. Tell him he doesn’t have to stand—yet.

I will. It will be good for Ghost to rest as long as he can before the race.

I know, silly. Do not worry. Ghost and I will be fine.

Anjo snorted, and then Ghost’s eyes fluttered open. He raised his head and looked from River to Skye, before he rested it along Anjo’s back and closed his eyes again.

“Okay, he knows you’re here. He’s going to keep resting while we braid his mane.” River spoke as she went to her chest and gathered wooden currycombs and purple ribbons, as well as the wide, soft-bristled brush she’d use to groom his golden coat to a lustrous shine. “Here’s an extra comb. Want to start on his tail while I work his mane?”

“Yes. I can do that.” Skye approached the stallion cautiously. “He’s really big this close—bigger even than Bard.”

“Yeah, he’s well over sixteen hands. He’s grown like crazy this past year, and filled out, too.” River sat behind the stallion’s neck while Skye moved to his tail.

“Do you talk to him?” Skye asked.

“Well, yeah. All the time.”

“Does he answer you?”

“You mean with words like Anjo does?” River took a section of Ghost’s silver-white mane and began working the comb gently through the tangles.

“You can hear words from Anjo?”