Page 55 of Wind Rider

“Perfect,” River praised them. “This is exactly what I needed you two to do. Now, what comes next might be nothing—or it might be very crazy. I really have no idea. All I know is that earlier today the quartz crystal made me believe I could get the answer to what’s going on with Ghost by using the phantom crystal. So, here goes.”

River wiped the nervous sweat from her palms and then picked up the beautiful phantom quartz. It was a warm, sunny fall day—probably one of the last of them—and the sunlight caught the amethyst phantom in the center of the crystal, turning it into a purple halo around the stone. River clasped it between her palms, just as she had done with the quartzcrystal in class that day, lifted it to her third eye, and pressed the tip of it gently against her forehead. Within just a few heartbeats she felt the crystal warm and awaken. She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then spoke what had been in her heart on the ride to Ghost that day, which she hoped very much were the correct words.

“Phantom quartz, I am River of Herd Magenti, Rider of Anjo and daughter of Echo’s Rider, Dawn. I need your aid today. This stallion, Ghost, has left our Herd, and I do not understand why. My desire is to help him, and in order to do that, I must understand him better. What is it he seeks? How may I help him?” River phrased the questions in the same way she had heard her mother query crystals to tap into their wisdom. “I wish only for his best, and for what is best for Herd Magenti, so I ask that you part the veil between the seen and unseen worlds, and bring me the knowledge I require. It has been said!” River concluded with the ritual words that all Herdmembers used to seal a promise or anything of great importance.

Eyes closed, River waited—opening herself to the power of the phantom crystal.

Heat shot into her head. It wasn’t painful, but it caused River to gasp in surprise. She closed her mouth and continued to concentrate, allowing the power of the crystal to guide her. River was filled with relief and an incredible sense of awe as images began to flash against her closed eyelids.

A great ball of fire exploded into a forest, causing a ferocious blaze. Animals fled—though not away from the burning forest, buttoit. River realized there was something wrong with the animals, even before the fire consumed them. They were obviously sick—stumbling, salivating, and showing signs of a toxic madness.

Then the scene changed. She saw a huge wave of water, clear and beautiful. Riding the wave were a group of people, and with them were amazing animals that River recognized from drawings and descriptions passed from Herd to Herd as canines. Their eyes glowed the yellow of the sun, but not with anger—with strength and compassion. River wasimmediately drawn to them, so that she was shocked to her core when an enormous wall of dark blue water formed over the group of people and canines, threatening to drown them all.

Suddenly the vision changed and they were on the Plains of the Wind Riders. River even thought she recognized Rendezvous Site near the edge of the Rock Mountains. The crystal wave the people and canines had been riding washed them against a huge, verdant tree whose trunk had grown in the shape of a naked woman, depositing them safely among her branches so that they looked like beautiful birds.

And then Ghost was there! He stood before the tree, whinnying desperately as if calling for someone.

River’s attention shifted from the stallion back to the tree as a second wave—the one that was sapphire colored and oozed darkness and danger—surged around the tree, battering the thick trunk as it tried to drown the people and canines.

In the vision Ghost screamed a warning, rearing as if he would strike out with his hooves to fight the blue wave, but he could do nothing against its tsunami-like strength, and it consumed the tree and the land around it, turning what was green and thriving to death and destruction, though at the last moment a small bird burst from the tree, flying erratically straight at Ghost to collapse on the stallion’s back.

River was intrigued by the bird. It was small and gray—and its wings fell limp against Ghost’s golden coat, exhausted and broken.

River felt the stallion’s anger and despair. Hemustsave the bird! But instead of running away, Ghost galloped straight for the tree, with the bird clinging tenuously to his back.

The sapphire water surged around his flanks and Ghost swam, fighting the darkness that threatened to suck him under, and as the stallion fought the current the bird rallied, pulling itself upright and singing a song that reminded River of wind sloughing through the prairie grasses. As the bird sang, Ghost’s coat began to shine a brilliant gold, like fire, or the harnessed light of the sun—and the horrible water retreated from him, parting so that he could gallop to the base of the tree.

With a mighty effort, the bird flew from his back into the branches ofthe tree, as a great, silver moon lifted into the sky, shining down on them. Under the silver light the sticky, dark water began to retreat into the ground while the tree drank it in, growing straighter, stronger, and the trunk that was a woman glistened silver with magick as the land recovered, turning green with life again.

River gazed up into the branches of the tree to see that the people and their amazing canines hadn’t drowned, but were celebrating—clapping, singing, and howling in happiness.

The little gray bird burst from the branches of the tree to rejoin Ghost. The moment she perched on the stallion’s back, the bird was healed. Then the two of them, the lonely stallion and the strange gray bird, turned to look directly at Anjo and River—and River was filled with such sublime love and joy that tears flowed down her cheeks, the wordsYes! We belong together!echoing through her mind.

Then the stone went cold and the vision ended. Shaking herself—mentally and physically—River opened her eyes to see the two horses staring at her.

Anjo immediately nickered her concern and River went to her, stroking the filly’s neck and murmuring soothingly. Ghost lipped her shoulder and hair and River included him in her reassurances, telling both horses how special they were. When the three of them had calmed, River knew what she had to do.

She concentrated on her connection with Anjo, but she faced Ghost, stroking the big stallion’s golden forehead.

“You were there with us—with Anjo and me—weren’t you? You saw the vision, too.”

Ghost went very still, turning his head so that he could meet River’s gaze.

“I don’t understand it—not all of it—not yet. But what my intuition is telling me is that youmustsurvive. Something good is coming, and so is something equally bad—and you’re part of defeating the bad, as well as welcoming the good. You cannotdie this winter. You must rejoin the Herd.”

River felt Anjo’s emotions—and the filly was in absolute agreementwith her. Through their bond, she could feel that Anjo, too, was beseeching the stallion to come with them—to rejoin the Herd. And she could also feel Ghost’s resistance.

The stallion feared returning to the Herd.

“I understand,” River said somberly. “And I give you my oath as Anjo’s Rider that I will not let anyone harm you—ever.You were part of our Herd. You know my mother is Lead Mare Rider. She trusts me; I trust her. She will protect you, too.”

With a great sigh of release, Ghost stepped forward, resting his head against River, and Anjo nickered her relief as the stallion gave in.

***

The return ride was joyous. After Ghost agreed to rejoin the Herd it was like he suddenly became a colt again—galloping and bucking around Anjo and River as if his worries, along with his loneliness, were gone.

“Everyone is going to be so surprised!” River said, laughing as Anjo pranced, tail high. “Hey,” she whispered to her filly, and Anjo’s ears flicked back to catch her words. “Let’s play tag with him!”