Where had they gone? She knew her way back out of this part of the forest, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to leave just yet. After all, she had to prove that she would be a good solo adventurer because it was a vital part of the druid life. She couldn’t see when she was in tree form but instead could feel the wind flowing through her leaves. She tried to use her sense of smell but found it lacking as well as her sight, so she stretched as far as she could, both up and down, trying to imagine the sunshine bathing her leaves and the ground strengthening her and holding her upright. She let go at that moment and basked in the feeling of being loved and supported by the All-Mother, Sephine.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in that feeling—that moment—but as though awaking from a dream, she became aware that something or someone was near her and was sheltering behind her trunk. Gin was pleased to discover that her sense of hearing was intact in her tree form, and she listened as carefully as she could. She could hear what sounded like horse’s hooves moving very slowly around her trunk, and she wished vehemently that she could see who was guiding that horse. Had Nelenie and Ben come back for her? Where would they have gotten a horse?
Finally, Gin could stand her own curiosity no longer and shook off the tree form spell. She fell to the ground, stunned as she always was when she came out of that illusion. As she opened her eyes, she saw black hooves pounding the mossy ground in front of her. Hot breath hit the top of her head, and when she lifted her head to look at the rider of the horse, she found that it did not have one. Instead, her eyes met the fiery gaze of a creature of legend that roamed the darker parts of the forest—the dark mare. Gin couldn’t breathe. The horse was looking her over, snorting periodically and moving her muzzle closer to catch Gin’s scent.
“Tiny,” the horse said, the voice frightening Gin to her core. “Wood elf. Afraid. Lovely.” She nudged Gin with her nose. “Well, get to your feet little one, I will at least give you a head start.”
“A head start for what?” Gin asked, her voice quivering, betraying her fear. She had heard tales of the dark mare her entire life but had assumed they were just fairy tales told to Elven children to keep them in their beds at night rather than roaming about the Forest.
“A head start to run for the lighter parts of the Great Forest, where I will not be able to catch you,” the mare replied, licking her lips. “Hurry now, or I will forget that I am merciful.”
Gin stood and pulled her pack up onto her shoulders. “You and I both know that I can’t outrun you,” she said. She tried to control the shaking in her upper body. “So this is all for sport, isn’t it?”
“You are clever for one so young,” the mare said, shaking her mane and snorting. Sparks billowed up from her neck and dissipated into the air. “Clever, but foolish at the same time. You should be making your escape, and yet you stand here and talk to me? Are you not afraid of me?”
“Of course I am,” Gin said, knowing that her fear was billowing off her in waves. “But I am also sad for you, and if killing me makes you less miserable, then I think it is a small price to pay. Why would I run and prolong the inevitable?”
“Humor me,” the horse said, her head very close to Gin’s and her breath stifling in its heat.
“It is not a fair game if you see me run,” Gin said. She suddenly remembered that the dark mare was afraid of wolves. It was one of the few things that she feared and would not attack.
“Life is not fair. Now, on your mark, little druid, I don’t have all day!”
“Yes, of course,” Gin replied, working out the words for an illusion spell in her head as she took a step or two back. “You will stay there?”
“I will count to ten,” the mare replied. Gin dashed away from her, trying to find a tree she could hide behind while she cast her spell. “One. Two…oh, bother, what comes next?” Gin flattened herself against the tree and began her casting. “Eight? No, that isn’t right. Oh, well, I guess… TEN!”
The sound of rapid hoof beats grew louder and louder. Gin felt her arms elongate, and she could not help but bend over as her body shifted into that of a black wolf. She sprang from behind the tree, causing the mare to rear up on her hind legs, whinnying with fear. Gin snarled and took a step toward the creature, which turned tail and ran back the way she had come. Before she dismissed the illusion, Gin sprinted toward the lighter part of the forest. She did not stop running until the sun hit the fur on her black muzzle, and she wagged her wolfy tail as she slowed to a halt. She shook off the illusion and stood and stretched, proud of herself for having overcome her fear and taken on the fabled dark mare—and lived to tell the tale.
“Now, Nel and Ben had better hope they don’t find me before I find them!” she snarled as she ran toward Alynatalos.
Sath smiled at her. “I must admit I didn’t care much for the first part of the story, but then again, any time you say that wizard’s name, it turns my stomach,” Sath said. “But this story only affirms
