“No!”
I shout at the same time as Alianor. She runs to stop Trysten as Doscach veers toward the ram. The ceffyl-dwr rears up and comes down on the ram’s broad back. The beast bellows, and Doscach spins and kicks, hitting the ram and knocking him back. Before the khrysomallos can recover, Doscach is beside me, lowering his head. I grab his long green mane in one hand and the dropbear in the other, and I swing onto Doscach’s back as I shout for Jacko.
I don’t need to bother with that last part—the jackalope is already in flight. He lands perfectly in front of me and hunkers down, holding on. Doscach lunges, but the ram is barreling straight for him.
A whinny from above, and then a shadow passes overhead. Sunniva dives straight at the ram, who lets out a bellow of terror. A khrysomallos ram might be able to defeat a small pegasus filly, but apparently he’s never had one dive at him from the sky.
The ram falls back. A ewe leaps at Doscach’s flank, but I kick her off. Then both the ewe and the ram fall behind as the ceffyl-dwr gallops away.
“Go!” I shout to the others. They don’t need me to say it twice. I’m safe, and they’re the ones on the ground with the angry herd.
Doscach zooms past them, and when I twist, Sunniva is diving at the ewes, who are already scattering. And the nekomata? It stands on the ledge, watching as if this day is turning into one its kittens will tell their kittens about: the family legend of the time a human, dropbear and jackalope escaped a crazed flock of khrysomallos, aided by a dive-bombing pegasus.
When we’re finally safely away, the monster sheep having given up the chase, Trysten stares at me with a look not unlike the nekomata’s.
“It’s my ceffyl-dwr,” I say as I hand the dropbear down to Dain. “My companion. The pegasus, too.”
Trysten chuckles. “I presumed that, though at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if a ceffyl-dwr and a pegasus randomly joined forces to save the royal monster hunter.”
“They didn’t ‘save’ her,” Dain says. “They just helped. Rowan would have been fine.”
“I appreciated everyone’s help,” I say, as I swing off Doscach’s back. “So you guys got tired of waiting for us back home, did you?” I say as I rub his nose. “It helps to have a pegasus to scout, I bet.” I glance at the others. “They must have spotted us when we entered the canyon.”
I give the ceffyl-dwr a strip of dried meat from my pocket, and he slurps it up. Sunniva lands, as graceful as a feather, and two-steps, shaking her roan-red mane ever so prettily.
“I haven’t had apples in three days,” I say. “Nor carrots or anything you like. Just this.” I hold up another strip of meat, and she sniffs and trots away.
“Last time she’s helping you, ingrate,” Alianor says. “Hey, Sunniva, you have apples at home, you know. As many apples as you can eat. Why not just admit you actually came for your princess?”
Sunniva just keeps trotting, tail high, wings rippling.
“Or maybe she came for Doscach,” Alianor says. “He wanted to see his princess, and she couldn’t bear to be without her handsome water stallion.”
Sunniva stops and glances at us, and it’s coincidental, but even Wilmot smiles as he claps a hand on Doscach’s back.
“Well, there’s not much water here,” Wilmot says. “Not anymore. But since you’ve decided to come along, I suppose we’d best stick to the riverbed for easy walking. Everyone stay in the middle, please. Out of a nekomata’s range.”
“Actually,” I say, “the nekomata’s hind legs allow it to leap an astonishing—”
I catch Alianor’s narrow-eyed glare and stop.
“Sorry,” I say. “Not the time. Just stick to the middle.”
Trysten falls into step beside me. “I’d like to hear more about the nekomata. Maybe not whether they can reach me here, but I’m definitely interested in learning about them.”
Dain makes a noise that sounds like a snort, but when I glance over, he’s busying himself feeding the dropbear.
“Oh, I can tell you all about how far nekomata can jump,” Alianor says. “I have stories you don’t want to hear.”
“And if we do?” I say, smiling at her.
“Well, then.” She waves a circle. “Those who want the horrible tales, gather close. Everyone else, keep your distance…and watch the cliffsides.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
We’ve stopped for the night. We walked as long as we could before finding a place to sleep. We don’t leave the riverbed for that. We’re at an astonishingly wide part of it, with the mountains beginning to rise on both sides, and the empty ground is actually safer than venturing into the dark hills. Or it is as long as we post two guards, able to watch the expanse of open land. There’s a small river here, too, one that might even be the remains of the Michty.
While the others eat, I sit by the stream and watch Doscach play. It’s not quite deep enough to submerge him, and he reminds me of myself and Rhydd, playing in the shallow stream behind the castle. We’d lie flat on our stomachs in a weird half swim, half slither as we pretended we were exploring a deep lake. That’s a whole lot harder to do for a long-legged horse, but he finds the deepest part and throws water like a baby in a bath.
He’s making Sunniva jealous, too. She doesn’t understand the appeal of water beyond drinking. That’s made me wonder whether pegasi avoid it or whether she’s just never learned to swim. Clearly, though, Doscach is having fun—alone—and she is not happy. She trots along the bank, occasionally dipping a dainty red hoof in, only to yank it back and shiver.
“Such
