Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“My father has powerful enemies,” he said darkly. “We have need of powerful weapons. And I never meant for you to touch the iron—just hold it in case you feel menaced.”
“By whatever comes to the circle besides Lachlan?” I asked.
He nodded. “You can open the bag and fling the contents if you need to.”
“Even if a bunch of cute little pixies are what come with him?” I asked.
I was thinking of Tinkerbelle again. She had been my favorite Disney character when I was a kid—I even had a Tinkerbelle birthday party when I was six and a costume, complete with wings made from wire coat hangers and nylons that my mom had put together for me. She worked really hard on those wings and I had worn them to several successive Halloweens until I got too big for them.
Bran raised an eyebrow at me.
“Do you really think that pixies are safe to be around? Do you know how many travelers they have lured to their deaths? Just because something is beautiful or alluring doesn’t make it benign.”
“Like Morganna, I guess,” I said.
He nodded.
“Case in point. Now, I’m going to put out the offering—you just be certain to stand in the center of the circle.”
I nodded.
“I’m not moving an inch,” I promised.
“Good.”
Stepping outside the circle himself, he put down a bowl and filled it halfway with milk. Then he added a generous dollop of honey, raised his arms, and began to chant.
27
“House of O’Connor has come to bring a gift,” Bran chanted. “I call upon the unseen forces and the winds between the worlds to carry my words. Come to me now, Lachlan O’Rourke, for I have need of you and a debt rests between us.”
I wondered what debt he was talking about—he’d said that this Lachlan guy would come just because he was curious but it sounded to me like Bran was calling in a favor.
But the next minute, any speculation was driven completely out of my mind because a rushing wind suddenly whipped through the trees surrounding the circle, making their branches creak and sway in the moonlight.
I gasped as the cold air buffeted me, taking a few steps back as it did, so I was nearer the edge of the circle than the center of it. The shadows of the tossing branches obscured anything outside the ring of salt and a bunch of dry leaves came swirling around my face, like I was suddenly in the middle of a mini-tornado.
Batting at the leaves, I took another step back. Something gritted under the sole of my sneakers—it must have been the salt Bran had used to make the circle in the first place but I didn’t know that—I only knew I was trying to get away from the chilly wind and the tornado of leaves.
“Well, well, O’Connor,” a voice drawled. “Why have you summoned me to the dull human world?”
“I need your help in removing a glamour,” I heard Bran say but I couldn’t see him or the other speaker.
The leaves were still swirling around my head, almost like the wind had a mind of its own and was trying to drive me backwards.
The minute I thought that, I looked down and realized I was outside the circle. How had that happened? I had promised to stay in the center, hadn’t I?
I started to go back but behind me I heard a soft, inquisitive sound almost like a horse. Wait—a horse?
Overcome by curiosity, I turned my head and saw the most beautiful white horse I’d ever seen standing directly behind me. It was pure white from head to toe and it glimmered silver in the moonlight. Its large, liquid black eyes were staring into mine and then, somehow, I heard it calling me.
Come to me, little one. Come, human child, it whispered in my ear—or maybe in my head—I wasn’t exactly sure where that sweet, silvery voice was coming from but really, did it matter? The horse was gorgeous.
Show me a girl who didn’t go through an “I Love Horses” phase when she was a kid. I know I certainly did.
There was a period between the ages of ten and twelve—which was when I first started noticing that boys were kind of cute—that all I could talk or think or dream about was horses. I read every book I could find about horses—Man o’ War, King of the Wind, My Friend Flicka, Black Beauty—if it had a horse as a main character, you name it and I read it.
I also begged my mom for riding lessons. We couldn’t afford that but she did take me to a stable regularly, where one of the owners let me learn to groom the horses and spend time with them. I was in absolute heaven. At that point in my life, all I wanted was my own pet horse to love and care for and ride all day long.