All the King's Horses (20 page)

‘Tiffany!’ I yelled.

‘Back up!’ yelled Colin. We raced up and grabbed her, but the minute our hands touched hers, there was music and spinning and colours, and when it stopped, the sun was out, and we were standing in an enormous green field with groves of trees and rolling hills.

‘Oh no!’ whispered Colin. ‘They’ve got us.’

‘Maybe it won’t be so bad,’ I said. ‘I mean, it’s pretty here.’

Tiffany looked all around, and her face slowly changed from the way it had looked all week to the way it had looked when she first saw Dandy. ‘Where are we?’ she breathed.

‘Er … it’s hard to explain.’

‘Never mind then,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s just … I think I’ve been here before. Not really, of course. But … you know those places you always go in dreams?’

‘Oh!’ I said. And Colin and I looked at each
other
– because we’d both realized it was the place we’d seen her daydreaming about when we’d gone to her house with Hob and Lob.

‘If it’s the place,’ she said, looking more and more excited, ‘there should be horses … oh, here they come!’

She pointed to the left, and I saw a couple of horses at the top of the hill behind us. Tiffany whistled, and one of them nickered and started down to visit; a few others followed him, and in a minute, the whole herd of horses we’d seen in Tiffany’s daydream was walking towards us, snatching up mouthfuls of grass as they came.

‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ said Tiffany happily. ‘I’d never want to be out in the open with a herd this big anywhere else. But here, they seem to know they’re safe, so they never spook, and they’re very careful.’

She was right. As the horses circled around us, there was no pushing or nipping or jostling at all. Tiffany walked between them, stroking faces, patting necks, straightening manes, and talking, always talking, the way Grandpa had in the barn. By the time we caught up with her, she was on the far edge of the herd, patting a mare that stood between her and a foal.

‘Look!’ she called softly. ‘A new filly.’

We helped Tiffany convince the mare that we
wouldn’t
think of taking her baby away from her, and after a minute, she let it step around her and sniff us. It was covered with dark brown fur, but you could see it was going to be black, and it had an adorable white star. Tiffany leaned over and kissed it, and the little thing rubbed its head against her.

Colin patted the mare, looking at her appraisingly. ‘If Grandpa
is
here, he’s going nuts,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen so many terrific horses. I wonder who they belong to.’

‘They belong to all of us,’ called a beautiful golden voice. ‘But they’re in my care.’

We looked around, and there, coming out of a grove of oak trees, were three stocky brown mares with glorious manes and tails, their coats shining in the sun. One of the mares walked half a length in front of the other two, and on her back was a lady in a dark brown dress and long red-gold hair with a lot of grey in it. She wasn’t beautiful the way women are supposed to be beautiful, but she had the most wonderful face I’d ever seen, and something in it told me that we were as safe as the horses were, even though we were in Faerie.

‘Welcome, Children of Lugh,’ she began; then she saw Tiffany, and something changed – just a little – about the way she looked.

‘This is our friend Tiffany,’ I said. ‘She’s here because … well, we didn’t mean to come ourselves, and it was totally an accident … but she’s been here before in dreams …’

‘Indeed she has,’ said the faerie rider, looking at Tiffany with a smile that seemed sad.

Tiffany slid one arm around the filly’s neck, staring. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered.

‘I am Epona,’ said the lady, ‘and I have charge of all the horses in Faerie.’

‘Even Enbharr?’ said Colin, forgetting his manners.

‘Even Enbharr,’ said Epona, and her smile wasn’t sad at all, now. She slipped off her mare and walked towards us. ‘He is the sire of this little one.’

Tiffany stepped away from the filly as if she were afraid she shouldn’t have touched it, but Epona shook her head. ‘There is nothing to fear,’ she said. And then, in exactly the same tone of voice, ‘Come here, child.’

We looked at each other, wondering which one of us she’d meant, but then the filly started towards her with a funny baby prance, and we realized she’d been talking to it. She stroked its neck, then ran her hands down its legs, and Colin and I glanced at each other; she really knew what she was doing. When she was
finished,
she put her arm over its withers.

‘She’s perfect,’ she said affectionately to the mare.

Tiffany nodded, but Colin nudged me and drew me back a little way. ‘Should we tell her about Jenny and Grandpa?’ he whispered.

I glanced over my shoulder and I found myself looking straight into Epona’s deep brown eyes. They didn’t scare me, the way Jenny’s eyes had when I’d met them at the Gordons’, but they told me that she already knew that we knew about Jenny and Grandpa – and much, much more. I shook my head at Colin, feeling very young and stupid.

Epona turned away, looking thoughtful; then she said, ‘I have to take a young horse to the new palace of Faerie; would you three like to ride there with us?’

‘Oh yes!’ we said, all together.

‘Very well, then.’ I didn’t see any signal, but the two brown mares that had been on each side of her stepped forward to Tiffany and me, and a dappled grey pony trotted out of the herd and stopped in front of Colin. I vaulted on my mare (thanking Grandpa in my mind for teaching us how), and in a minute we were following Epona’s mare and a pretty black three-year-old through the fields. Our horses were … well,
Grandpa
had always told us (and anyone else who would listen) that a good trainer wanted to make his horses move as beautifully when they had someone on them as they did when they were free. I’d understood, of course, but I’d never
felt
what he was talking about until right then. There were no reins or stirrups, but the horses were so perfectly collected that we could trot along without bouncing at all – and when we came to an oak grove and Epona started to canter, Tiffany laughed for the first time since I’d met her.

I brought my mare up next to hers. ‘Isn’t it great?’ I said. ‘We should sing something!’

Her face changed a little. ‘I don’t know any songs. My parents don’t like me to—’

‘– All it has to be is something cantery,’ said Colin quickly. ‘Like a nursery rhyme.’

Tiffany frowned, and I thought,
gee, she doesn’t even
… but then she smiled. ‘What about
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
…?’ she said, right in time to the horse’s feet.

‘Perfect!’ I said. And we joined in.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty together again
.

It
was
perfect – so perfect that we said it over and over, until Epona looked back at us, and we realized how stupid nonsense must sound to a faery. I suppose that should have shut us up, but it made us silly instead, and we laughed so hard that the hills around us began to echo.

Epona led us on, shaking her head; we quieted down and began to look around, because it was very pretty. We were riding towards a range of misty mountains, and the grass on the hills was filled with delicate spring flowers – and I thought of home, where the melting snow was uncovering weeds, rusty cans and broken bottles. The hills around us got steeper, and at last, we stopped at the top of one of them to rest the horses. Epona circled her right hand three times, but I was too busy staring at the view to ask why. Below us was a lake, deep, still and almost black. Marble cliffs of a craggy mountain rose out of its far shore, so perfectly mirrored by the lake that if it hadn’t been for the ripples of swans swimming in the water, it would have been hard to tell which cliffs were real and which were reflections. At the top of the cliffs, just below a peak half-covered by clouds, stood a palace. It wasn’t finished yet – two of its four towers still had scaffolding all around them – but the finished towers were tall and gold, and the walls
glistened
white and silver between arched windows that shone like diamonds. As we gazed at it, two swans rose out of the lake and flew majestically in our direction.

‘Oh,’ breathed Tiffany. ‘I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.’

‘Me neither,’ I whispered – then suddenly the swans circled us, banked, and landed a few feet away. The three-year-old shied at the great pounding of wings, and even my mare kept me busy. When I looked again, the swans were gone; Mongan and Cathbad stood next to Epona.

‘Welcome, Children of Lugh,’ said Cathbad, bowing to us.

‘And to you too, Fay Child,’ said Mongan, bowing to Tiffany.

All three of us bowed as well as we could, being on horseback; when we straightened up, something about the way the faeries were looking at Tiffany made me uncomfortable.

‘Um,’ I said, ‘we were admiring your palace. It’s … wonderful.’

Cathbad nodded. ‘It’s being built by the greatest craftsmen in the Otherworld for the king we will soon crown.’

‘And nothing but grief we’ve had in the building of it, with the rush and all,’ muttered
Mongan.
‘It’s a good thing kings only happen once a century or so.’

‘The rush?’ I said, frowning.

Epona nodded. ‘It must be ready for the king’s coronation. That’s the greatest occasion in the Otherworld: everyone comes to honour him.’

She smiled at us. ‘
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
, as your rhyme says.’

‘Wow!’ said Colin. ‘Would
that
ever be a sight!’

Tiffany had been looking more and more excited. Now she urged her mare towards Cathbad. ‘Sir – if Sarah and Colin come to the king’s coronation, could I come, too?’

The faeries looked at each other; Cathbad cleared his throat. ‘Fay Child,’ he said slowly, ‘Sarah and Colin have unusual privileges. No other mortals can travel back and forth between the Otherworld and their own.’

‘I see,’ whispered Tiffany, looking down. Suddenly she looked up, her eyes wide open. ‘No mortals can travel
back and forth
! Does that mean I … can’t go back? Now?’

I looked at Cathbad’s inflexible face and suddenly went cold all over. ‘That’s … that’s not true, is it? I mean … you’ll let her … just this once … ?’

We all stared at the faeries; they were absolutely silent.

‘Please …’ I begged.

‘Shh,’ whispered Tiffany. ‘You don’t understand; I don’t
want
to go back.’

‘No, no,
no
!’ we both said together.

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ said Tiffany. ‘I want to stay here – always.’ She looked shyly at Epona. ‘I could help you with the horses.’

Cathbad laid his hand on the neck of Tiffany’s mare. ‘Fay Child,’ he said, ‘Mortals must live in their world, and faeries in the Otherworld. If a mortal child stumbles into the Otherworld, as you have, the Rules which permit her to return exact a concession, lest that child be damaged by eternal longing to return. Thus, you must go back to your world. And when you do, you can never visit this one again – in person or in any other way.’

‘Any other way?’ said Tiffany, staring at him. ‘You mean, in dreams?’

‘Yes. You will never dream of the Otherworld again.’

Mongan turned away and looked over the lake.

‘Not even … even in daydreams?’ whispered Tiffany.

‘Especially not in daydreams,’ said Cathbad.
‘For
those carry you here most frequently.’ Tiffany looked at Epona, but the beautiful, sad face was just as firm as Cathbad’s. ‘It will be painful at first,’ she said, ‘but you won’t lose the Otherworld entirely. In fact, you will lose less of it than you would have if you had continued with your daydreams. If mortals dream of Faerie too often, gradually it slips away from them, and only the dreams remain. When that happens, they drift into the Grey Land, and no-one, faery or mortal, can save them.’

‘Then let me stay here!’ begged Tiffany. ‘Here where everything is beautiful, and all the horses are trained right, and nobody is ever hurt!’

The three faeries exchanged glances; but Epona shook her head. ‘The price of staying is too high, Fay Child,’ she said gently. ‘Go back to your own world.’

Tiffany put her head down on her horse’s mane. ‘No, no,’ she sobbed, ‘please …’

But even while she was speaking, the mountain and the lake and the palace began to spin, and when they stopped, we were back in the cloverleaf, with the junk all around us and the traffic roaring by in the rain. Grandpa was sitting on the side of a fallen-over stove, dialling the telephone. Tiffany was sitting on a wrecked car, crying and crying.

Colin cleared his throat as he looked at her. ‘Geez.’

I nodded, wondering what we should do; I’d never seen anyone cry like that before. ‘You collect Grandpa and start home,’ I said finally. ‘We’ll catch up.’

They started off, but as soon as she heard the junk shifting around, Tiffany raised her head and slid off the car. I walked beside her, and if it hadn’t been so uneven, I would have put my arm around her. ‘Listen,’ I said. ‘I know this is going to sound really strange after what you saw today, but Epona’s right. If you have to stay in one place or another, it’s much better here.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ she whispered. ‘Not for me.’

‘Yes, it is,’ I said stubbornly. ‘The Otherworld is beautiful, but … look, we accidentally got to the Grey Land she talked about – at least, I think we did – and you can’t even
imagine
how awful it is. And … I can’t explain it exactly, but even when the Sidhe are being nice, like today, they’re sort of scary. And I don’t think it’s just them – except maybe Cathbad and one called Manannan, who wasn’t there today. It’s the Otherworld, even when it’s all horses and mountains and lakes and flowers, because you always
feel
the Grey Land, sort of
hovering
…’ I gulped. ‘What I mean is, it’s
dangerous
there – like downtown, only worse, because you aren’t ready for it – and if you stayed there for long, you’d be finished.’