Page 25 of The Bookworm and the Pegasus Tamer

“Don’t be angry with him,” she murmured. “I’m the one who called for someone to come. And besides, he managed to keep hold of the ropes amid the chaos, which I am excessively grateful for. I have no desire to go down there again to retrieve them.”

“You are not going near that crevice again,” Danton said fervently, gathering her into a hug, both of them still seated on the ground.

Eleven

For one moment, Aurelia let herself rest in Danton’s warm arms. Her heart rate was still slowing back toward normal, and she could have happily stayed in the safe circle of his hold for hours.

But Phoebe’s cry reminded her of their surroundings, and she pulled back. They had both just had a significant scare, and Danton was offering her comfort. She shouldn’t read more into it than that.

“I was with the horses,” Phoebe cried, rushing up to join them. “But one of the pegasi said you fell.”

“I’m all right,” Aurelia said.

“Your dress isn’t,” Phoebe exclaimed, and Aurelia gave her a sad look.

“Don’t remind me.” She glanced upward at the sound of beating wings.

More pegasi had arrived, including two more stallions. Between the black stallion, Echo, and the two new stallions, they should be able to pull the filly out. She waved them down, and all four pegasi landed, crowding the space at the top of the ravine.

“You’ll need to let these men ride you,” she told the wild pegasi, hoping they would accept the necessity. “They need to hold the ropes.”

The pegasi all gave their agreement, and she turned her attention to the men, supervising them as they respectfully mounted on the bare backs of the pegasi, each with a rope end and its corresponding canvas end in hand.

“Don’t drop them,” she told the men, unable to help herself.

The men nodded fervently, casting looks at Danton. Clearly they were too nervous to speak after the near disaster, but they all looped the ropes securely around their bodies to anchor them in place.

Each man carried one end of rope and one end of canvas, and the pegasi divided into two pairs, two hovering above Bramble’s left side and two above her right side, depending on the ends of the rope borne by their riders.

On Danton’s command, they moved upward in unison. Phoebe and Aurelia clutched at each other, their breaths held as the ropes went taut and began to strain.

One of the men cried out, but he didn’t let go of his end of rope, and the four pegasi moved upward a fraction, rising in perfect unison. Bramble gave a loud whinny and popped free, the pegasi in the air shooting suddenly upward.

That hurt! she called, and Aurelia laughed in relief. She sounded annoyed, not truly injured.

The stallions immediately lowered her onto the top of the crevice beside the two girls. As soon as they had done so, their riders flung down the ropes and canvas, and the stallions swooped in to land.

Aurelia and Phoebe ran forward to disentangle Bramble from the ropes, examining her from all sides and murmuring sympathetically over her scratches. A few small trickles of blood ran down her flanks and shoulders, but they would heal quickly and easily.

“You’re a very fortunate girl.” Aurelia scratched her neck, and Bramble leaned into her with a whuffing noise that made the girl laugh.

Don’t reward her! The black stallion sounded furious, but Aurelia defiantly held her place.

“She’s so young. And she must have been terrified. But she was extremely helpful when I was getting the ropes around her.”

I should hope so. The stallion turned a baleful eye on the bay filly, who hung her head.

“We are pleased to have been of assistance and relieved for your herd mate’s safe rescue,” Danton said. “Can we ask a favor in return?”

I have spoken to the herd, the stallion said. We know of no healing plant, and we have no experience of a sickness that can strike down a whole herd.

Dismay pulled at Aurelia’s legs, but she drew strength from Bramble’s warmth beneath her hands.

“You’ve never heard of any herd being struck down by illness?” she asked. “No illness at all?”

The stallion blew out a breath and stomped one hoof. Pegasi are strong and healthy.

“And yet there is clearly at least one illness capable of striking you down,” she said. “So there must be a reason why it never afflicts those of you who live in the mountains.”