Repost of the Guardians story

Continued...

She flopped onto the bed, kicked off her shoes, shimmied out of her jeans and pulled her socks of, then crawled under the covers. She was asleep before her head hit the pillows.

10
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Shadow backed out of the trailer, hearing his hooves clunk against the drop ramp as he backed down it. He swished his tail, listening to the clatter of wheels as the Victorian and Meadowbrook carts were unloaded from the cargo trailer. He turned as his hooves hit earth and looked around. Ears pricked with interest as he saw other horses nearby. Major?s hooves hit the ramp, and Shadow was led out of the way and tied to a ring on the side of the trailer, The male Owner patted his neck and turned to help the female Owner unload Major. Major gazed around, his blood bay coat gleaming under the Summer sunlight. Shadow?s own coat shone like raven?s feathers, itself. He watched Major caper slightly, jigging his hind end to the side. Even though the track was long behind him, the Thoroughbred still got excited at shows. However, once he entered a ring, Shadow had seen the excitement turn to single minded concentration. He was a jumper now, show and cross country.

Shadow looked around again, watching the Owners cutting a bale of hay; good green hay, he noted. Two hay nets were brought out and two flakes of the hay were stuffed into each. His was tied up on the next ring, within reach. He reached over and lipped some out. The female Owner came over and began running a brush over his hide, and he chewed, eyes drifting shut as the firm strokes massaged his muscles that had tightened during the long ride. Fable?s bark, followed by Creek?s yip, told him that the dogs were out of the truck, and were on leashes. And not pleased with that. He gave a long sigh, shifting his weight to one leg. All to soon, the grooming ended. He opened his eyes and looked around for the female Owner. She wasn?t there. He snorted softly, then looked around again. Other Owners and their horses were heading to a truly massive barn. Group by group, they headed in, and soon, it was his and Major?s turn. Major was jigging again, snorting happily, and Shadow watched the gelding dance.

They reached the great door of the barn, where two humans waited, with thin slabs of wood with white sheets of what Daisy called paper. He?d gotten a scolding for trying to nibble the stuff before, and it hadn?t tasted all that good, in any case. The humans wandered around himself and Major, touching now and then. Daisy had called this health checking. Apparently, they were healthy, because Shadow and Major were led into the shady barn. Their hooves clattered and clopped on the isle floor as they followed the Owners down the isle, around a turn, down another isle, and then to two open stalls. Shadow eyed the stalls. Roomy, with thick bedding of fresh smelling wood shavings. He followed the female Owner in and stood as she unclipped his halter from the lead and left the stall, closing it behind her. He looked around. No food or water, but he knew there would be food and water put in soon. Major had the stall next to his, and through the low wall and barred division he could see the blood bay checking out his own stall.

?Posh quarters, eh?? The gelding asked, catching him watching. ?I?d guess so.? Shadow took a larger look at the stalls. They were very posh, indeed. The walls were dark red wood, the divider bars dark iron, smoothed to a gleaming black. The stalls were roomy, and beneath the bedding, he felt the soft give of rubber matting under his hooves. The water troughs were made of a stone that looked like a dapple grey?s markings. Marble, he thought absently. A faucet was fixed above the trough, and at the bottom, he spied a dark circle, and a piece of rubber lay next to the opening. The hay rack was the same kind of metal as the divider bars, also smoothed to a black gleam. He snorted in pleasure, then glanced over into Major?s stall. The same fittings, and on his other side, he saw that the horse on his other side had the same as well. It must be the same in all the stalls. The horse, a red chestnut Hanoverian, was a gelding, by his scent, and already tucking into his meal of fresh hay and grain.

Shadow gave a greeting nicker to the gelding, who looked up, showing a thin, zigzagging blaze from the center of his forehead to the very end of his upper lip, and studied him. ?Yes?? He had an accent, German as Daisy had called it. Shadow had known a Hanoverian on the old farm, an imported stallion, who was white as ivory, and a bit of a snob. Alabaster had been one of the few creatures Shadow could honestly say he didn?t like at all. He hoped that this gelding would be a gentler personality. ?Good day, sir. I am Shadow.? The Hanoverian stared at him, then nodded, after seeming to make a decision. ?I am called Gunnar of Bachmeier Farm. A pleasure.? He lowered his head back to his meal, and Shadow left him to his hay, turning to look across the isle. Oh be still his heart. She was beautiful. She was-- The mare snorted, whirled, and kicked the door of her stall, showing him a fine, spotted hind end and a glimpse of what her tail would usually be hiding before she spun and lunged at the door, neck stretching as far out from her stall as she could reach.

?Don?t get any ideas, black one.? Was it possible for a horse to snarl? He backed away from his stall door and eyed the hostile mare. She was a Spotted Draft, and her eyes were the color of blue ice. Her face was mostly taken over by her white marking, and from what he could see of her body, she was a red chestnut tovero. Her eyes glared out at him from behind her red forelock, and her white nostrils flared angrily. An ivory champagne Spotted Draft gelding peered out from the stall next to hers, glanced at her, snorted and stretched out his neck, lipping at her mane. ?I?m sure he wasn?t getting any ideas, Rosy. Now relax, you?re making the humans worry.? He wheedled at the mare, and slowly her ears began to rise from the pinned position. After a moment, she tossed her head, snorted, and turned her rump to the door, head in the corner. The gelding turned his attention to Shadow, who fervently wished he could calm a mare that easily.

?I am deeply sorry about Rosy, sir. She doesn?t like stallions. I am Ghost, and we come from Dallas Farms.? Shadow glanced warily at Rosy, then approached his door. ?It?s alright, Ghost? Is this? is this her first show?? Ghost gave a chuckling whicker. ?Oh no. This is our sixteenth. We do combined driving competitions.? Shadow pricked his ears in interest. ?I?m a dressage and driving horse. I pull the Victorian and Meadowbrook carts.? Ghost gave his head a slow toss. ?Ahh.? Major poked his head out of his stall, peering down the isle. ?Here come our Owners with the food.? Shadow peered out of his stall. There they were, the male Owner carrying the hay bales that weren?t broken, and the female Owner wheeling the broken bale down the isle in a barrow. They turned into the stall next to Major?s then came out carrying flakes in their arms. Major and Shadow stepped back and waited until their food was placed in the racks before stepping forward to tuck into their meals.

The rush of water next to him made Shadow look around. The female Owner was filling his trough with water from the faucet. She turned the faucet off when it was full, and left the stall. He took a few more bites of his hay, chewed and swallowed, then wandered over to his water trough and drank deeply. Lifting his head, water dripping from his chin, he looked out, watching other horses being led to their stalls humans bustling back and forth, and after a while, he lowered his head, shifted his weight to one leg, and dozed, resting up after the long trailer ride.

11
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Horses nickered and whinnied, or kicked stall walls in some cases. His ears flicked back and forth, and slowly, he rose from his nap. The light was dim, but the faint breeze that came from what could have been windows had the scent of morning on it. He lifted his head, blinking, and looked around. Major was circling his stall, pausing now and then to peer down the isle. On Shadow?s other side, Gunnar pawed the shavings into a pile, rumbling softly, nostrils flared. Shadow stepped forward and put his head out into the isle, peering past Major, down the isle. Faintly, he could hear birds chirping and twittering, and even more faintly, he heard Fable and Creek yipping. The clatter of boot heels on the stone isle floor. His ears pricked forward as he listened. The Owners came around the corner at the far end of the isle, chattering to each other. He whickered a greeting.

The Owners disappeared into the tack stall and brought out breakfast in the form of hay. Shadow glanced at his own hay bag. He?d only eaten half before drinking and falling asleep. His breakfast rustled past in the female Owner?s arms, and he nuzzled her back as she stuffed the flake into his hay bag. She made that wonderful noise, laughter, and patted him as she turned and left the stall. He tucked into breakfast, chewing thoughtfully. He?d been seeing strange things over the night. And after a moment, he realized that Daisy had told him about these. Dreams? He?d been dreaming. Or having a very bad dream? The human filly, the one with the amazing itch scratching abilities. A male about her age, with light head fur. He didn?t like that male? His hind hoof stamped as his ears flattened back, blue eyes glaring into the hay, as he took a hard chomp out of it. Then he felt rather guilty. Wanting to hurt a human. He ought to be smacked with a crop.

But he couldn?t shake the dislike for the male in his bad dream. There was something sinister about the human male, in the way he had looked at Shadows? Girl? Shadow blinked, head jerking back from his hay bag, mouthful of hay whisping free of his slackened jaws. His filly? When had that possessiveness begun? He?d never? felt possessive before. Not even when breeding mares. Of course? He only saw those mares briefly, long enough to? Well. Enjoyable moments, but none completely memorable. He snorted. He?d never been embarrassed about that before. He turned away from the hay and went to the water trough, dipping his head and taking a long drink to clear the strange feelings swirling in his gut and chest. Clicking boots made his head lift, and he stepped over to look out. The owners of the Spotted Drafts were coming down, one carrying a tiny foal; a toddler, as Daisy had called human foals of that age.

He stepped away from the door as Rosy came to her stall door, not interested in being lunged at just after breakfast. However, all her attention was on her owners, her ears pricked, soft, rumbling nickers rolling from her flared nostrils. Real tenderness was in those blue eyes of hers. All the tenderness was aimed at the toddler, who made one of the strange gurgles they tended to make. Shadow watched the exchange, then drew back into his stall, turning to nibble his breakfast. A clipped nicker on his other side, from the Hanoverian, Gunnar, made him turn to look over his shoulder. The red chestnut was watching him with the deep brown eyes, ears pricked curiously. ?You seem restless, Sir Shadow. Anxious to get showing?? Shadow met the deep brown eyes for a moment, ?No. I just? had a strange dream.? The Hanoverian tossed his head. ?Ah, ja. Dreams.? Dark red tail swished, and then Gunnar returned to his own breakfast. Shadow went back to his. Twenty minutes later, he finished his hay, and drank deeply, then settled down for a nap.

Boots clattered, harness buckles jingled. Shadow?s ears pricked, and he blinked slightly before stepping over to the door and hanging his head out to see. His Owners arrived, carrying his Meadowbrook harness, the lighter leather that would show up against his black hide, and he snorted. Time to show. The female Owner snapped a lead line onto his halter and led him out, cross tying him in the grooming stall on the other side of Major?s stall. Shadow?s head and eyes drooped as the owners began giving him a thorough grooming. Could humans get any better? The soft buzz of the clippers made some of his drowsy contentment clear, and he eyed the clippers curiously for a moment. He knew what they meant. They wanted to shave the whiskers from his muzzle, which tickled every time, but had never hurt him, though when he was a foal it had been terrifying the first time. Now it was only a minor irritation, hardly worth any reaction.

As expected, the clippers buzzed over his nose, and it was tempting to twitch his nose at the ticklish vibrations, but he waited until they were done with him, before he chose to rub the ticklish spot over the female Owner?s shoulder. She laughed, and helped him out, rubbing a rough bristle brush over his nose, which only tickled more, really, but he appreciated the gesture. As always, the grooming ended far too soon for his liking. His harness was settled onto his back, and adjusted into place, and then he was led out to the trailer that had carried the carts, where the Meadowbrook waited, shafts rested in the stand rungs, waiting for him to be backed into it and hitched. He was turned, and backed into the shafts, and once in place, his harness was attached to the shafts? rings, and ten minutes later after extensive checks of security and safety, he felt the cart shift under one of the Owners? weight, and wondered who was at the reins. As soon as he felt the unique pressure, he knew that it was the female Owner. He felt the light tap of the driving whip, and stepped out, ready to go. Ready to show.


12
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Anna woke up to birds chirping and twittering outside, and mid-morning sunlight shafting into her bedroom from the window. She turned her head and groaned at the headache that said she had overstayed her welcome in dreamland. Really overstayed her welcome. She rolled onto her back with a yawn, wide and jaw popping. Then she sat up popping her neck with soft grunts, before scooting off the bed. Standing, she turned and straightened the bed, and changed into clean clothes, since she?d slept in the ones she?d worn yesterday. Who knew unpacking could be so tiring? She guessed it was the stairs? fault. All that up and down high stepping. And with her arms full of boxes. Maybe she could take up racing in school. Then she thought of her pale legs showing in shorts, and thought better of it. No? Maybe riding. She?d heard horseback riding was great for body strength and keeping trim. And who wouldn?t enjoy feeling powerful muscles working beneath one?s legs?

The big black horse came to mind, and for a moment, she surrendered to a fantasy of riding him across a field of wildflowers, but frowned when she realized her fantasy self was wearing what looked like a roman stola. How about simple breeches, or jeans? That was better! Her hair flying in the wind, his mane flowing over her knees. In the fantasy, she and the horse, moved as one entity, seamless and flowing. Flying. ?Anna!? Why was her mother striding across the field? Oh! Anna blinked away the fantasy and walked to the door. Fantasies would have to wait. Breakfast smells were wafting up to her nose, and she smelled waffles. So she descended the stairs, feeling drool pooling on her tongue at the smell of warm syrup; maple, with butter melting. When it came to waffles, her sense of smell seemed to jump up the meter of sensitivity.

She turned the corner to find her parents in the kitchen, her father digging into a plate of three chocolate chip waffles with strawberry slices and whipped cream, and her mother just pulling the waffle iron open and forking out the fresh, steaming waffles. Perfect waffles. Her mother knew waffles like a star pasta chef knows his spaghetti recipe. Perfect waffles every time. Without fail. These waffles were Anna?s favorite. Strawberry chunks mixed into the batter. She felt her empty belly growl extensively as she slid into the chair next to her father. Her mother fixed up her waffles, then slid the plate to her. ?Welcome back to the world of the living, sweetie. I though you might be hungry. All this unpacking is exhausting, eh?? Anna nodded with a sleepy grin. Her mother continued, a mischievous grin crossing her lips. ?Well, I have a surprise for you that will wake you up.? And chewed a mouthful of waffle, eyes on her mother, waiting to see what the surprise was.

Cathy reached into her shirt pocket and whipped out three pieces of paper. ?Tickets!? She crowed. ?Tickets to a horseshow. The one you?ve always wanted to go to.? Cathy grinned at Anna. Anna felt her face crack into a grin as well. ?Thanks, Mom! When do we go?? Cathy held up her purse, and Anna noticed that both she and her father were dressed to go out. Cathy?s curly brown hair was done in soft waves to her shoulder blades, and her face was very lightly done up. Mineral make up. Cathy MacCarthy needed no heavy makeup to be beautiful. ?We go in an hour. Now go shower up, and get back down here. After you eat, of course. And drink your orange juice.? Cathy winked a green eye, then took her own, plain waffles out of the iron. Soon, they were settled down, eating, chatting about small things. Then Anna swallowed her last bite, gulped down the rest of her juice, and hurried up the stairs.

A half hour later, Anna headed down the stairs, dressed, brushed, and ready. She whipped around the corner and joined her parents outside in the car. Then they were motoring away to the show.

~*~

Anna climbed out of the car, stifling a groan. It had been a long ride, four hours. The trip was part of her father?s job as the Equine Photographer for the Equus Magazine. The show would be noted in the magazine, and he had been chosen to photograph it. Horse smells and sounds were everywhere, trailers were parked off in a huge gravel lot. Anna took a deep, long breath. Paradise. She followed her parents as they made their way to the stands, where they paused at the concession stand to get popcorn, cotton candy, and licorice. Also bought were fries, burgers and soda. Anna sipped some through the bendy straw as they went to find seats reserved for her father and his family. Her father grinned as he slid his camera under his seat, sitting back and digging into his fries. Anna delicately nibbled her cotton candy, gazing out into the arena. It was huge! The size of a medium football field. They had arrived between classes, and some horses were warming up. It looked like Dressage would be the next class. Ten minutes later, the arena was cleared of horses, and a tractor came out to smooth the ground.

When it finished, arena attendants ran out, carrying the small fences that would be the dressage arena. Then the arena was clear, and the bell dinged, calling the first competitor. The announcer?s voice echoed over the audience?s heads. ?Carolyna Bachmeier, from Bachmeier Farms, on Gunnar, a Red Chestnut Hanoverian Gelding.? The Announcer went on to give a little information on both horse and rider, but Anna only half listened, her attention on the horse. Their silent performance was beautiful, smooth and flowing, Gunnar?s movements flowing into each gait with precise obedience. Every move was like silk. The performance came to an end, with Gunnar halting squarely to face the Judges booth, and his rider did the final salute. The crowd applauded loudly, some supporters of the horse and rider team whooping or whistling their appreciation. Anna clapped too, and during the whole performance, her father had been snapping photos, getting angles and moments on film. Or digital memory chip?

The bell dinged. The announcer Echoed. ?Debbie Hull, from Hull Farms, on Stand The Storm, a light dapple grey Danish Warmblood Mare?? And like with Gunnar and his rider, information followed the introduction. Anna leaned forward, as her father began snapping his photos. Soon, her father got a gesture from someone in the arena. Got to go, gals. Love you!? He threw them a thumbs up, and slipped off, cameras and supplies in hand. Anna hardly noticed him leave, offering a quick, vague ?Love you too, Dad.? while her eyes were locked on the performing horse and rider. Stand The Storm moved like a ballet queen, every step delicately, placed, and her tail flicked side to side as if she were listening to some horsy music in her head during the trot sequences. Her lead change was superb. Then, during the extended walk, something spooked the marble marked mare, and she bolted across the arena, snorting loudly enough for Anna to hear her clearly. Her rider regained control with an understanding grin, and took her horse through the walk again, this time with no bad reactions other than residual skittishness.

They finished their performance with a ragged halt, and a salute from the rider that looked somewhat self mocking. Stand The Storm looked rather embarrassed as they left the ring. Twenty minutes were taken to smooth out the gouges Stand The Storm?s hooves had made in the arena sand, while other attendants tried to find out what had spooked the mare. From what Anna could see, they found it. A fluttering flag, bright red in color, that had been blown from one of the flag strings over the stadium stands. It had been steadily blown toward the arena at such a subtle rate that no one had n noticed it. Order was restored to the arena, and the area was cleared again, the attendants and Anna?s dad stepping back, though her dad stayed closer so that he could continue to take pictures. Cathy reached over and squeezed Anna?s hand. ?Doesn?t he look so professional?? asked Cathy, green eyes sparkling as she gazed at her husband. Anna smiled. ?Yeah. He looks great! I?m so glad he finally got his dream job.? The two MacCarthy gals smiled at each other. Then the bell dinged.

?Russell McAllister, from Standhope Estate, on Moon Dancer, a white grey Arabian Stallion.? Anna gave a soft ?Ooh? as the stallion pranced into the arena. He moved like light on water, graceful, majestic. His mane and tail had been left unbraided and flowed like silver water with his movements. The rider halted his horse, a neat, square stop, before they began their performance. It was almost flawless, but Moon Dancer missed a stride when the time to go from a walk to a canter came. Other that, the performance was wonderful. They finished with a neat stop, and a salute to the judges. So far, out of the three horses who had shown so far, Gunnar and his rider where at the top, and Moon Dancer was second, followed by Stand The Storm Anna couldn?t really recall the riders names right off the top of her head, so she didn?t even try.

Three more horses later, and the show paused to smooth the arena again. Anna took that time to use the bathroom, and get a refill of soda, as well as popcorn. She hurried back to her seat, dodging people, and sank back down in time for the next horse. Ding! ?Amelia Hansen, of Hansen Farms, on Shadow In The Night, a black Friesian Shire cross Stallion.? Hansen Farms. Anna leaned so far forward in her seat the top layer of popcorn tumbled out of her bag. It was the horse. Big, powerful. Majestic. He moved into the ring, and the crowd seemed to hush. Or maybe it was her imagination. Every muscle rippled, and his black hide shone like silk with a raven feather sheen. His mane had been left free, as well as his tail, and the woman on his back sat straight and tall like a queen, and yet seemed to be attached to the stallion as though they were of one entity. Just like her fantasy.

Shadow In The Night and Amelia Hansen halted, and Anna imagined she heard a drum pulse once as the stallion halted, standing square and proud, neck arched. Then the dance began. Not one step was missed, not one gait was anything but superb. The stallion?s presence was powerful, shown in every movement. Anna was enthralled. Shadow. His name is Shadow. And he lived right across the road. The stallion and his rider halted, Amelia Hansen saluted. The stadium applauded their pleasure. Anna felt that the applause didn?t do the performance justice, but she felt too breathless to do anything but clap hard enough to hurt her hands. Shadow and his rider left the ring. A minute later, Anna could breathe. Cathy looked at her daughter?s wide eyes, then poked her shoulder. ?Anna?? Anna blinked a few times. ?What, Mom?? Her mother?s green eyes looked slightly concerned. ?You look like you can?t breathe, honey. Or like you saw a ghost, and liked it?? Anna blinked again, then smiled. ?That was the horse who saved me.? Cathy blinked, then smiled back. ?I see. You were right. He is gorgeous. Well, we should definitely visit his owners.?

Anna?s face reddened. ?Oh, mom, I can?t! They?d probably think I?m just a crazy teenage girl.? Cathy shook her head, giggling. ?You have got to get over this shyness. I don?t know where it?s come from. You?ve never been shy before, sweetie.? Anna glanced toward the arena, where another horse and rider were performing. The rider was having trouble with her horse, who was feeling his oats, and completely unfocused. ?I think it?s just because I?m new here. I guess I?ll brave up soon enough.? Cathy huffed a laugh. ?You had better, or high school might be kind of lonely.?

The remainder of the competitors? performances went by in a blur, as Anna had lost some of her interest. Her mind had wandered to the black horse, Shadow. She had once thought that her dream horse was a beautiful white Arabian, with flowing mane and tail, and fiery gentleness. Now? Her new dream horse was real. Powerful, kingly. And she had even touched and rubbed him. Most girls? dream horses were only in their heads, perfect in a way no real horse would ever truly be.

The dressage ended, and the Dressage arena pieces and cones were carried off. Over the next hour or so, the stadium jump course was set up. Anna regained interest as the staff people set up the jumps, and when they were done, the riders went out on foot to get a close up look of the obstacles. Could Shadow jump? Finally, the riders walked away, and the arena was cleared of personnel. The ding came. The announcer called out the introduction. It was Gunnar and his rider again. The red chestnut gelding moved with efficiency, head lifted high as he entered, as though surveying the course. Then they went into the course. Gunnar cleared the course with equine professionalism, and at the end, he flicked his dark red tail as though satisfied that he had done his job perfectly.

Stand The Storm was jumping as well. The mare?s performance was much better than her dressage performance, as her previous skittishness fell away to a steely focus, ears pricked, head lifting high before each jump before she took off like a bird, seeming to float for a moment as she soared over, before she alighted on the other side with a sassy flick of her tail after each jump. Her rider had excellent form, to Anna?s less knowledgeable eyes, her hands kept good contact, and her heels were down. The team came through with a clear round. Since Anna wasn?t familiar with the points systems in horse shows, even though she?d been an avid watcher of horse show broadcasts, she didn?t pay much attention to the scores. So she went off of what the announcer said. Gunnar was in the lead here so far. However, after Shadow?s round in Dressage, Gunnar had dropped to second place, with Shadow at the top. This pleased Anna. She liked both horses. But she liked Shadow more.

?Alaxander Hansen, of Hansen Farms, riding Major Inclination, A blood bay Thoroughbred Gelding.? A flashy red horse with black points, four neat socks, and a broad blaze came into the ring, ridden by a tall man who rode with the same calm grandness of Amelia Hansen. Major Inclination?s ears were up, pressed forward, and he looked eager to get jumping. And they did. Major Inclination was an amazing jumper. He cleared the jumps with room to spare, soaring with the precision of a falcon. At the end of the round, he was raised to place second, after Gunnar. He flicked his tail, and his rider swatted his neck affectionately as they cantered out of the ring. More horses came, and Anna was with the crowd in groaning when a rail came down or a horse refused.

Finally, the Jumping was over. Anna yawned widely, even though she?d had plenty of sleep. The show was over for the day, and her dad came up, looking very pleased with his photography work. ?I think I got some really good shots that the Magazine will like. Now! Before we head home, would you like to take a walk to the barn and have a tour?? Anna stared at her dad, then grinned. ?Sure!? She popped to her feet, feeling wide awake again. Her parents headed down the isles and out of the stands, with her close behind. They walked across the large parking lot and into the huge barn. People and horses bustled back and forth, people called to each other over the hubbub, horses whinnied and snorted, hooves kicked the stalls, or clopped on the isle floors. Anna drank it all in with a strange euphoria. Her day couldn?t be better.

Hooves clopped behind her, and then a loud nicker rolled like thunder, just behind her head. Hot breath, soft muzzle. She looked around and behind herself. Big dark blue eyes peered out at her from behind a think, inky forelock. Shadow. And he was delighted to see her, if that was what could be gathered by his quivering nostrils and the soft nickers whuffing from the shuddering nostrils, as well as the pricked ears. The woman, Amelia Hansen, looked at her horse, then at Anna. ?He likes you. Usually he ignores strangers.? Anna?s eyes dropped to the floor. ?Well? We?ve actually met before. I live in the house across the road from his pasture. He saved my life. I wasn?t paying attention to the road when I was walking by, and didn?t see or hear the car coming down the road. He did, I guess, and he neighed really loud. That made me jump, in time to see the car and get out of the way.?

She drew in a deep breath after that long explanation, wondering if the woman that was her neighbor would think she was making things up. She chanced an upward glance. Amelia Hansen studied her, then smiled. ?I believe you. He?s always been a great guy. Even saved me a few times. Once, he held in his breath when he was being saddled. He was five then. Well, we were out far, just him an me, and he startled, and the saddle slipped, dumping me to the ground. Well I tell you, I have never seen a horse look so horrified before. I?d broken my wrist, and fell headfirst, so I wasn?t sure if I should move. He stayed around, then took off for home. From what my husband tells me, he charged into the yard, screaming like the devil was on his tail. Charged right up to my husband and tried to drag him by his shirt sleeve toward the trails. My husband finally realized that I wasn?t walking after him and got on Shadow, who got the bit in his teeth and ran off with my husband, straight to me. He?s an amazing horse. So I?m not in the least surprised that he saved you.? Mrs. Hansen had the prettiest smile, Anna decided, and she beamed that smile at Anna, who reached up at the insistently probing muzzle to rub the velvet soft nose.

Mrs. Hansen threw up a finger and grinned. ?Ah! He even got a medal for it. I have the picture in my wallet. Our old dog Daisy has a few feats of bravery to be told, too. You?d think the dog was Kindred.? Cathy McCarthy?s attention was caught. ?Kindred? Oh! You read them too?? The women grinned at each other. Anna looked at her mother and Amelia Hansen, blinking. And the fellow Trilogy readers were off, chattering about the characters of the books, as they walked down the isles, Shadow clip clopping behind, nuzzling Anna?s shoulder now and then. She obliged him each time, petting him or rubbing his nose, all of which he seemed to like. Anna giggled softly as she listened to the adults. They sounded like young women just out of high school, talking about the newest movies. They reached Shadow?s stall, and in the stall next to them, the blood bay Thoroughbred, Major Inclination, nickered through a mouthful of hay, temples dancing as he chewed. Shadow nickered back, then nudged Anna?s shoulder. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw him holding his head high, looking prouder than a peacock. It was like he was showing her off to his friend. She giggled. ?I think he?s showing me off to your Thoroughbred.? Now that the ice had been broken, she didn?t feel so shy anymore. She even felt brave. Amelia surfaced from Trilogy talk and looked at Shadow. ?I think you?re right. He seems mighty pleased with himself.?

Anna grinned, lightly prodding the stallion?s shoulder. He lowered his head, lipping at her shoulder. Amelia Hansen chuckled. ?He?s in love. Look at those eyes.? Shadow had the most doe eyed look you?d ever see on a horse. ?Why don?t you come over sometime? Your father and mother are welcome too. I know your father was the photographer for the show this year. I?d like some more new photos of Shadow and several of our other stallions for our Farm?s site. These horses are part of how we make our living. Alaxander has an at home job part time though. He paints landscapes and wildlife. And horses of course.? Anna felt her bravery slip a little, until Shadow nuzzled her cheek. More time to get to know this big marshmallow? Yes! But? ?I don?t know how to ride.? Anna lowered her eyes to her hand, which was combing through the silky black mane of the stallion, who looked like even that was sending him to cloud nine. Amelia grinned. ?Well, we?ll just have to teach you, now won?t we? We have several school horses, but? I think Shadow would be jealous if we put you up on one of them.? Amelia grinned, winking one sparkling blue eye at Anna. Cathy clapped her hands lightly. ?It?s settled! Whenever you?re free, we?ll be happy to come over. James will be delighted! He?s been thinking of going into Friesian Photography since they?re such regal horses.?

Anna felt like she could fly. Her dad walked up then, and introductions were made. James McCarthy was just as happy about visiting as his wife had implied. Afternoons, all days. Anna was so happy she could leap in the air and clap her hands, whooping wildly. But since she was in a barn full of expensive, possibly flighty show horses, she settled for a wide grin. She was going to learn to ride. And Shadow would be her mount. Could things get any better than this? They stayed for a while, talking while Shadow was put in his stall and Anna even got to help groom him. Both horse and girl were absolutely thrilled, and Anna found she had a talent at making black hide shine. ?A shine like that, your lessons are free as an eagle.? Amelia remarked, running her hand over the freshly groomed hide. Shadow turned his big head, one blue eye peering at Anna, locking eye with her for a moment, and she rubbed the shiny neck. Then it was time to go. Anna reluctantly stepped out of the stall and closed the door, and Shadow draped his head over the door to watch as they sad their goodbyes. Amelia smiled and said ?You come right on over whenever you feel like it in the afternoons, okay?? Anna looked up at the woman. And smiled. ?Okay.?

This, Anna thought as she watched the country-side sweep by her window as they drove home, was the best day ever.


13
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Shadow stared after the human filly as she and her dam and sire walked away down the isle, turned the corner and left his sight, feeling somehow deflated after the euphoric past few hours he?d been enjoying so thoroughly. He?d had a good show yesterday, and a great one today, and then on the way back, he?d caught the scent. Her scent. She smelled like the lilies that grew near his turn out paddock gate, along with the normal smells of human youth, and the hints of adulthood. He?d been treated to her amazing petting abilities several times as he was led to his stall, never once turned away. And then she?d helped the female Owner groom him. That filly had some amazing grooming skills. Even better than the male Owner, and that was saying something, in his opinion. But why did time have to fly so swiftly in times of happiness? Too soon, they were leaving, and the filly with them. He wanted to go too. But he was unable to do anything but watch her go. When they left his range of vision, he sighed and turned to his hay, which had been ignored until now. He lipped it up, chewed, swallowed, and went for more. After a while, he settled down to sleep.


pMeanwhileq


Daisy stepped into the clearing, eye sweeping the moonlit grove with wise intelligence as she took a place at the center. A soft, moon like glow spread over the old Golden Retriever until she was completely engulfed. It pulsed, thrummed, and her shape began to change. Muzzle shorted, fur receded, her body straightened, morphed gently, as her legs lengthened and her forepaws became hands, toes becoming fingers. In all, the transformation was swift, smooth and practiced. The glow receded, and the woman glanced up at the moon, which hung swollen like a mother?s breast in the sky. ?Almost time now.? Her voice was rusty, a wise woman?s voice. Vocal chords more accustomed lately to barks and growls and whines would smooth out with some time.

The moon was full. And nearly at it?s peak in the star strewn sky. Liquid brown eyes gazed up at the stars, finding the North Star, and many other points of constellations. She wore garb that could be called Elven; a silvery gownlike robe of silk, sleeves belled, skirt flowing to the ground like water. Bronzed skin set her silvered blond hair a stark contrast, and a feather or two was braided into the silvery waves. Her hair itself fell well beyond her waist, draped lightly in thin silver strands to which many moon stones were attached, catching the moon?s light with a milky glow. At the center of the grove, she waited, calmly alert, until at last, movement rustled in the shadows of the trees.
The German Shepherd was larger than most of his breed, and instead of the usual generic markings of the breed, he was an inky black, and his eyes blue. A streak of white fur marked his left shoulder. The glow surrounded the dog, and as it faded, a man stood in his place, ice blue eyes sharply interested, set in a tanned face that held he same regal, lordly features of the dog he?d just been. Midnight hair held a streak of silver at each temple, and fell to broad, aristocratic shoulders. He wore a masculine version of the woman Daisy?s robes, though he wore trousers in the stead of skirts. Icy eyes fell on the golden woman, and he bowed slightly at the waist. He greeted her in a deep voice that still held the dog?s growl, though it smoothed as he spoke. ?Guardian Aleera. You called us to a gathering. May I ask why??

The woman Daisy, now revealed as Aleera, nodded. ?I have called, but I will give my reasons when all have come. Though I will say that part of the reason is that we are bringing back a tradition that has fallen in past years.? The man frowned, but nodded, accepting Aleera?s answer. ?It is high time the Guardians came together, each full moon, as we once did.? Aleera added. Movement made their heads turn. A large white tom cat stalked into the glade, white fur start under the moonlight. Green eyes surveyed the two Guardians haughtily, before the glow surrounded him. In the place of the cat stood a lean man, smaller than the dog Guardian by a foot, lean and slight. Bright green eyes glared out from behind strands of white blond hair. He wore the same silvery robes, and they complemented his pale coloring, making him seem almost ghostly. He wore a head band, set with one moonstone at the center of his forehead, glinting under the moonlight.

Aleera and the other man greeted the cat with a slight bow. ?Belenus.? Belenus flashed a sharp grin, bowing in return. ?Aleera, Asar.? His voice was light, almost high, and melodious. Their heads turned as a Welsh pony stepped into the glade. She was dapple grey, her mane and tail snowy white. The glow came, and a pleasant, plump woman in the same dress like, silvery silk robes as Aleera bent her head in a bow. ?Guardians.? Aleera smiled at the silver haired woman. ?Camilla.? Camilla looked around. ?Any more coming?? Aleera nodded. ?I?m hoping they all come.? Camilla nodded and stepped over to Asar, peering up from her diminutive height at the tall man. ?Hello, Asar.? Asar stared down at her, ice blue gaze questioning. ?Camilla?? Camilla stepped away and wandered to a boulder, spreading her skirts as she sat upon it, gazing around at the other three.

And steadily, they came. Another cat, a black queen with orange eyes. She became a slender, tall woman, inky black hair falling to her waist in a raven sheet. Laine. A large Malamute dog who became a huge, grizzled, heavily bearded older man with sable and salt hair and beard. Aeroan. In all, there were thirty. Soon, the glade was full, but still, Aleera waited. And finally, the soft tread of hooves on grass. The stallion who entered moved with a powerful substance. He was very tall, powerful, standing at eighteen hands by the withers. His fetlocks were feathered like a Friesian, and his mane and tail swept the grass. He was a deep, fiery chestnut, his points a flame white, and he glowed under the moonlight with his own light., and his eyes were a bright gold. What set him apart ever more, was the clear horn that grew from his brow. It glowed with light akin to the sun?s rays, steady and strong.

Beside him, a dainty, pearl white mare stepped elegantly. Silver tresses of her mane gleamed like gossamer silk, and here tail rippled under an unfelt breeze. Pale silver eyes surveyed the gathered Guardians. Her own horn was a milky white, like the moonstones some of them wore, but it glowed softly on its own. As one, the Guardians bent their knees in a bow. ?Solaris, Luna.?