Page 173 of Wind Rider

“Yep. Can’t you hear them from Scout?”

Skye shook her head as she sectioned off part of Ghost’s long, thick tail. “No, she only sends me images.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the way most horses communicate with their Riders. It’s easier for them to share pictures than it is to share language.”

“Is that what Ghost does with you?” Skye asked.

“No. He listens to me, but we mostly communicate through Anjo. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if he ever told you why he saved me from that snake last winter,” Skye asked softly.

“He didn’t have to tell me. I know why he saved you. It’s who he is—a stallion made to protect his Herd,” River said.

“Would you thank him for me sometime?”

River met Skye’s gaze. “I think he’d appreciate it if you thanked him yourself.”

Skye reached out hesitantly and rested her hand on Ghost’s back. She cleared her throat and then said, “Ghost, thank you for killing that snake. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to thank you. I do appreciate what you did, though, very much.”

The golden stallion lifted his head and nickered softly to Skye before closing his eyes again and resting against Anjo.

“He really is beautiful,” Skye said.

“Yes, he really is,” River agreed.

They worked on Ghost’s mane and tail for a time in easy silence. Though River had only been Lead Mare Rider for three months, she had already mastered the skill of patiently listening. It was one of her mother’s greatest strengths. River had grown up watching Dawn wait quietly for others to get their thoughts, and sometimes their courage, in order before speaking. So, River was utterly relaxed and enjoying the silence when Skye finally did speak.

“I wanted to warn you about Clayton.”

Skye’s words didn’t surprise River. She’d known Clayton a long time, and in that time she’d watched him change from a confident, friendly child into an arrogant, sullen young man.

The first two tenet laws of the Herd were: Never harm a horse, and Never harm a Rider. The penalty for breaking either law was to be banished from the Herd—but first a Rider had to be caught breaking the law and, unlike during the Mare Test, there would be no judges’ eyes watching and recording the happenings during the fifty long miles they would race that day.

It would be a prime opportunity for Clayton to attack Ghost or River—or both.

“You’re going to have to explain what you mean by that.” River kept her voice calm. She’d expected Clayton to cause trouble during the Run—the only thing she hadn’t expected was Skye to warn her about it.

The girl nodded and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke, and when she did, River heard tears in Skye’s voice.

“He says Ghost is his only real competition and he doesn’t think it’s fair that he’s running.”

“What Clayton thinks or doesn’t think about Ghost isn’t relevant,” River said, working hard to control the anger Skye’s words had begun to build within her. “The Mare Council decided it was up to me whether he competes or not. They support my choice to allow it.”

“I know that. Everyone does, even Clayton and the Riders who follow him—but they don’t agree with it. I heard them talking. Clayton told them he’s going to do whatever it takes to beat Ghost—even if that means hurting him.”

River’s hands stilled. “Then it’s not just Clayton. It’s those Riders, too.”

Skye nodded and wiped at her tears. “Most of the stallion Riders support you, except…” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t force herself to speak the terrible words.

So, River spoke them for her. “Except for the arrogant little group who worship Clayton. Does he have a specific plan? Do you know what he intends to do to Ghost?”

Skye sniffled and moved her shoulders restlessly. “The only thing I know for sure is that he’s going to try to make it look like an accident.”

“But that’s ridiculous. I’ll know it’s not an accident—and so will Ghost.”

When Skye didn’t say anything, River understood the awful truth.

“Clayton is going to be sure Ghost and I don’t survive the Run.”