“Well Doc, what’s the good word?” Edith Norris asked, her aching foot propped up on one of her kitchen chairs as she leaned back on another. It was mid morning in the kitchen and Edith had spent the past half hour having her foot poked and prodded by the local doctor.
“Well Edith,” the doctor said, as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink, his somewhat faded white coat with “Jamison” on it catching some of the splash, “this likely isn’t a shock to you, but your foot’s broken. That’s what tends to happen when a thousand pound horse steps on it.”
“Dammit, that’s just what I needed,” Edith said, biting off a curse. “Well, it’s not so bad, I guess. I can hobble around on some crutches for a couple of weeks around the house, ride one of the tractors around when I’m outside.”
“A couple of weeks?” Doctor Jamison said, chuckling. “Oh Edith, someday you’re going to have to tell me why all you farmers keep trying to work yourselves into the ground. I’m going to have to put that foot into a cast, and it’s going to be six to eight weeks before it heals.”
“What?!” Norris exclaimed, bolting upright in her chair. “I can’t afford to take that kind of time off work. Are you crazy?”
“As I recall, Edith,” Jamison said, still smiling as he pushed his patient back down to a resting position, “you have an excellent group of farmhands and that young horse witch of yours has been coming along quite well as your second-in-command, from all reports.”
“Chiara isn’t ‘my’ anything,” Edith said, crossing her arms and sending a stern look at the doctor. “She’s an adult woman coming into her own. I’m proud of the turnaround she’s made in her life.”
“Uh huh,” Jamison said, getting a few things out of his kit bag. “I noticed you didn’t object to the whole ‘horse witch’ part of that.”
“What’s there to say?” Edith asked, a hint of a smile starting to soften her own features as she thought of the young woman who was fast becoming her protege. “She’s a witch, she rides a horse.”
“Edith,” the doctor said, pulling out an electric shaver and beginning to lightly remove the hairs from the injured foot, “you ride. So do I, and I’ve seen her in town on that mare she found in the woods. That girl sits a saddle like she was born to it, and with that horse under her… Well, let’s just say there’s something special going on with those two.”
“Being special didn’t stop Luna from stepping on my foot,” Edith said, with a wince as the shaver’s vibrations buzzed the broken bone in her.
“Even the best make mistakes,” Jamison said, finishing the most painful part of the shaving as quickly as he could. “Any luck finding out where that mare’s from?”
“Not even a little bit,” Norris said, relaxing as the doctor started shaving away from the area where the damage was. “Had Doctor Herriot out here, and he went over her with a fine-toothed comb. No tattoos, no brands, not even a microchip anywhere on her. The only odd thing about her is her shoes.”
“Oh, I’d assumed you’d had her shod,” Jamison said, turning off the shaver and blowing away the few stray hairs remaining.
“The shoes Luna came in with are fine, she just needed a touching up on her hooves,” Norris said, adjusting herself in her chair. “The weird thing is that her shoes are made out of titanium.”
“Titanium?” Doctor Jamison asked, surprise freezing him as he was putting away the shaver and getting out rolls of wrap for the cast. “Who the hell puts titanium shoes on a horse?”
“I did some checking,” Norris said, eyeing the growing pile of things on her table with distaste. “Racehorses are about the only time you see it. 3D printed titanium horseshoes, and let me tell you they aren’t cheap.”
“If she is or was a racehorse she’d be registered somewhere. The mystery deepens,” Jamison said, taking a breath. “Okay, I’ll be right back with the plaster and we’ll get you fixed up.”
“Hi, Mrs. Norris,” Chiara said, walking in through the kitchen door, her eyes intent on her mentor and employer. “How is the foot?”
“Broken,” Norris said, and Chiara’s face fell. “Oh, it was an accident. I shouldn’t have been standing so close when you and Luna were trying that cross-step part in your routine, don’t go blaming yourself.”
“What can I do to help?” Chiara said, leaning over to put a hand on Norris’ shoulder.
“Well, you can… “ Norris said, then paused as she noticed Doctor Jamison trying to discreetly admire the lean form of the girl beside Norris. “Doc, weren’t you getting some supplies from your truck?”
“Oh, right,” Jamison said, shaking himself and flushing slightly. “Back in a minute.”
“Huh?” Chiara said, in confusion and standing back up as the doctor went out to his truck. “Hey… was he checking me out?”
“I’ve told you before, Chiara,” Norris said, wincing again as she moved her foot again by accident. “You’re an attractive woman, especially when you dress for it.”
Norris looked up at Chiara, who was clothed for her practice session in the dressage outfit they’d planned for her to wear in competition. Over her slim frame Chiara wore a long tailed black coat, highlighted with silver stitching on the sleeves, and silver buttons in a dual line up her front. Under that, was a black silk shirt that had been tailored specifically to her measure, the shirt then tucked into black cotton breeches that fit her curves like a glove. The breeches were in turn, tucked into black leather boots that came up to just below the knee, a final flash of silver from the lunar choker Chiara habitually wore completed the outfit.
The intent of the outfit was to make Luna’s rider into a lean dark line, with highlights coming from the gloss of her boots, the shine from the silver on her jacket and choker, and finally from her short blond hair. The effect would be to merge Chiara and Luna visually into a single being instead of two separate individuals. It also had the effect of highlighting the growing athleticism of the young woman and Norris had caught several of her hands staring in frank admiration when they should have been working.
“I’m nothing special,” Chaira said, blushing slightly and moving back to lean against the kitchen counter.
“Peter Browning doesn’t seem to think so,” Norris said, laughing. “Oh, that poor boy. I thought he was going to have a stroke when he handed you the buttons for the backup jacket. When’s the date?”
“Friday, he’s taking me—” Chiara began, then looked over at Mrs. Norris in surprise. “Who told you we were going out?”
“The look on his face last week when he saw you, told me all I needed to know,” Norris said, and she kept chuckling while Chiara blushed, right up until Doctor Jamison came back in with the plaster for the cast.
“Sorry about that,” he said to Chiara. “I’d ask you to help but I’m guessing you don’t want to get that outfit dirty.”
“It gets washed after every session with Luna,” Chiara said, smiling to show the doctor that she forgave his minor indiscretion. “Mrs. Norris says I should practice in the clothes I’ll be wearing at the competition.”
“All right then,” Jamison said, as he began to measure some powdered plaster into a bucket he’d brought with him. “You can be my assistant. Just hand me things when I ask for them. For starters, measure out four cups of water into this bucket.”
Chiara took off her dressage jacket, rolled up her sleeves and got to work as the doctor began the work of creating the cast around Edith’s foot and before long they were working as a well-oiled team. Two-thirds of the way through an insistent chime sounded from the doctor’s jacket.
“Can you get that Miss Walsh?” the doctor asked, holding up arms that were covered to the elbows in plaster. “I seem to be covered in my work.”
“No problem, Sir,” Chiara said, setting down the long strip of cloth she had been holding for the next layer of the cast. “Did you want me to hold it up to your ear?”
“Just put it on speaker,” Jamison said, as Chiara began digging into his jacket. “Phone should be in the upper right pocket.” He stripped some of the viscous plaster back into the bucket as Chiara got the phone out and hit the button for the speaker.
“Hi Bonnie,” Jamison said, before the person on the other end had a chance to say anything. “What’s up?”
“You still at the Norris place?” an anxious sounding older female voice asked, through the speaker.
“Ya, probably be another half hour, why?” Jamison asked, his eyebrows raised at the tone of the speaker. “What’s happened?”
“There’s a young boy,” Bonnie said, over the phone. “Him and some friends were out playing out in the upper section of Halstad’s farm near the old irrigation line, and ran into a bee’s nest. He’s stung pretty bad. One of the other kids had a phone and called in. Said he’s swelling up and starting to have trouble breathing. How quick can you be there?”
“If I dump everything and run, about forty minutes,” Jamison said, standing now and moving quickly to get the rest of the plaster off his arms. “I’ve got to go all the way around Tumblehome Ridge to get there.”
“All right, I’ll tell them you’re on your way,” Bonnie said, and the phone clicked with the sound of a disconnecting line.
“Edith… “Jamison began, sluicing water from the sink over his arms.
“I heard it too,” Norris said, making a shooing gesture. “Get going, come back when you can. Chiara, help the doctor get his stuff to his truck.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Chiara said, scooping up various bags and following the doctor out to his old F-150 pickup truck.
“Just toss those in the back, Miss Walsh. With an allergic reaction I don’t have time to be neat,” Doctor Jamison said, pulling open the door to the truck. Chiara obeyed, throwing the items into the truck bed just as Jamison turned the key. The truck responded by making a horrific screeching noise of metal against metal which stopped only when the doctor released the ignition key.
“What in the name of Satan’s left testicle was that?” Jameson exclaimed, jumping back out of the truck. Bewildered, Chiara followed the doctor as he quickly went around to the front of his truck and lifted the hood. As the doctor poked around at various truck things under the hood, Chiara noticed an odd puddle under the vehicle.
“Sir,” Chiara said, hesitantly pointing to the puddle. “I don’t know much about cars, but I don’t think that’s good.”
“Oh fuck,” Jamison said, the simplicity of the curse making it all the more vehement. “That’s from the oil pan. I must have put a hole in it on the way here. This truck is dead, for all intents and purposes. You folks have something I can beg, borrow or steal?”
“N-no,” Chiara said, nervous in the face of the intent doctor. “With Mrs. Norris’ foot broken we dropped her truck off at the shop in town to get some work done. All we have left are the horses and the tractors.”
“Horses!” Jamison exclaimed, smacking a palm into his fist, before frowning. “No, that will never work. It would take a horse almost two hours to make it around the ridge.”
“What about over?” Chiara asked, finding her footing at last with a subject she knew something about. “There are a couple of trails to get you to the top and then it’s a straight shot down and across the flats.”
“That would solve the time problem,” Jamison said, then he sighed deeply, “but I’m just not good enough of a rider to take a horse safely down the backside of the ridge. That’s an almost sheer slope of loose soil and gravel.”
“Oh,” Chiara said, crestfallen. “What are you going to do?” The doctor looked around for several long seconds, weighing various possibilities and rejecting them just as fast. Then his eyes fell onto Chiara again, his eyes widening as he saw her dressage outfit anew and an idea came to him.
“I’m not good enough of a rider,” Jamison said, voice filling with hope. “But you are. I’ve seen you on your Luna. You can do it, and she’s already saddled, isn’t she?”
“Um, yes,” Chiara said, “I was about to get some practice in when—”
“Never mind that,” Jamison said, grabbing Chiara by the shoulders. “Get what you need to ride, get your horse, and get back here fast.”
“Yes sir!” Chiara exclaimed and charged off.
Luna looked up as her supplicant and rider came running towards her, and she felt her ears twitch in surprise at the unusual haste Chiara was displaying. Over the past month Luna had been basking in the regular contact with her blond maned rider, the small but steady flow of magic from the filly had slowly reinvigorated Luna’s mind. Luna once again remembered all of who she was, where she was from, and how she had come to be on this world and in this place.
Even better, Luna had begun to feel her ability to use magic return, and as soon as she had been able to, had cast a very minor translation spell on her own ears. Over the past week her ability to finally understand the words of the not-minotaurs around her had explained many things to her.
Her rider Chiara, along with herself, were being trained for some sort of competition that involved precise movements on both their parts by Chiara’s dam, Norris. Luna had also learned that the two were not related by blood, but Luna would have had to have been blind to miss the true mother-daughter bond that existed between the two. Despite being able to understand what was being said around her, Luna had decided to keep to her policy of appearing to be a simple riding animal for now.
Chiara’s weight was slight, the training was gentle and kindly if not thorough, and Luna couldn’t fault the care she’d been receiving. Everyday, her worshipper gave her food and water, brushed her down after their many practices and even slept beside her on most nights. In many ways it was almost like having a foal of her own. Perhaps later, when Luna had enough magic to actually speak to her caretakers, would she consider revealing her true nature.
All of this however, had made Luna feel terrible guilt when she had made a misstep yesterday and stepped on Norris’ foot, breaking it. Luna had felt the bone break under her hoof, and while most things about this world were advanced, it seemed their physicians were brutes.
Luna had been forced to suffer under the attentions of a supposed doctor who had been ham hooved at best. Everything that had been done to her during her examination had either been too loud, too short, or painful. Luna had finally had enough after the chirurgeon had stabbed a needle full of some sort of medicine into her, striking a bone as he’d done so and Luna had expressed her displeasure by rubbing him against the wall of her stall. A short time ago Luna had seen another of these “doctors” go into where Norris lived, and Luna did not envy Chiara’s dam for what she was about to experience.
As these memories went through Luna, Chiara reached the practice area they used and where Luna had been patiently waiting with her elegantly tooled saddle and bridle gleaming in the sun. As Luna turned her head to track Chiara she saw with surprise that the filly was wrenching open the gate with extreme haste and that she appeared to be very anxious.
“Come on, Luna,” Chiara said, almost leaping onto the saddle on Luna’s back. “We’ve gotta run like he… ck. There’s a little kid we’ve got to save.” Luna’s ears went back and she was already moving as Chiara went to dig her heels into Luna’s sides to get her moving.
If there is a life on the line, subtlety be damned, Luna thought, letting her rider direct her. Chiara shifted them up to a quick trot, as they rounded the back side of the barn and brought them up beside the thing the doctor had arrived in. There was a reek like something from deep within the Everfree coming from the metal wagon, and Luna automatically shied away a bit from it, but responded when Chiara pulled her back in line.
“Okay, Miss Walsh here is what you need,” the doctor said, passing Chiara a small backpack which her rider spent a few moments tightly strapping to her body. “There’s four epinephrine injectors in there. Pull off the cap, stab him in the thigh or shoulder. The medicine will go in automatically. If he doesn’t improve in five minutes or so, give him a second shot. If he starts getting worse afterwards, you can give him another shot.”
“Anything else I should know?” Chiara asked, as Luna listened in.
“There’s an air ambulance on the way, about forty or fifty minutes out,” the doctor said, talking quickly. “There’s a flare in the pack too, so you can signal them when they get close. Now get going, every second counts.”
Chiara pulled Luna around, and again Luna was on the move at a brisk trot a split second before her rider’s heels made contact with the sides. Chiara seemed not to notice Luna’s anticipations as she guided her mount the back way out of the farm and toward the steep rise that formed the rear boundary of Norris’ property.
“Luna,” Chiara said, as she moved the black mare into a canter. “I’ve never stopped believing that you’re something special, something not of this world. I honestly don’t know if you’re an avatar of my goddess or not, but I do know that there’s a little boy out there who needs our help. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to push you, okay?”
Luna responded with a quick snort and toss of her head, and Chiara patted the side of her neck as she guided the two of them up the most used trail that lead to the top of the ridge. Tumblehome Ridge ran like a spine out from the main mountains in the area. Once you were on top of it, you could see for miles and you could even use it as a reasonable pathway to climb back up into the mountains.
Together, the two climbed the ridge quickly and Chiara paused at the crest for a moment to get her bearings. From their vantage point they could see a large chunk of the farming valley spread out before them. To one side, Chiara could see the farm, the pastures, and the wooded area that held her cabin and where she had found Luna. To the other side of the ridge, began the Halstad farm, and in the distance Chiara could see the blue line of the irrigation canal and the old pump house on it, their destination.
“See that Luna?” Chiara asked, pointing. “That’s where we have to go. Come on, let’s fly!” Chiara turned Luna and started easing them down the far steeper, scree covered slope of the back side of the ridge.
This is not flying, my Chiara, Luna thought, chafing at the slow speed of their descent. I don’t have the magic for actual flight, but perhaps there is something I can do. Luna reached inside of herself to where the slowly growing core of magic lay within. Luna touched it, spoke to it and reached out to the Earth Pony nature of her spirit with it. There was an immediate and dramatic effect.
“Whoa!” Chiara shouted, as Luna shifted on her own from the careful half stepping, sliding walk they had been doing down the slope, to a full trot. Chiara’s heart leapt into her mouth as she realized how quickly they were now moving down the loose, nearly sixty degree slope. It was a recipe for disaster. No horse or rider could maintain that sort of motion for more than a few seconds without a destructive tumble and fall happening, but somehow her Luna was doing it and Chiara realized what had to be happening.
“Thank you, my Goddess,” Chiara whispered, into Luna’s ear as she bent low over her mount’s neck. “Find your best speed, but let me steer. My eyes are higher than yours.”
Luna responded with a loud whinney and sped up to a medium trot, which was as fast as even she dared to do on the loose slope. Loose rock and shale exploded from their passage, titanium shoes spraying sparks behind them and within a minute they were nearing the bottom of the slope.
Now, my filly, Luna thought, as the ground began to level out. Now I will show you how an Equestrian Princess runs when she is truly in a hurry. Opening herself to magic once more, Luna let the speed and endurance of the Earth Pony tribe take hold of her as she ignored the canter altogether, going from a trot directly into a full gallop.
Chiara “eep’ed” in surprise as Luna put on a turn of speed that made a car seem slow by comparison, and she struggled to pull herself up into the classic jockey gallop position Mrs. Norris had taught her was best on a speeding horse. Chiara felt her legs moving with Luna’s motions, her body rising and falling as they galloped onward. A strange quiet came over her as she felt her breathing and pulse begin to merge with that of the ebon mare beneath her, even her perceptions began to blur.
What’s happening? Chiara asked herself in thought, and she nearly slipped when she received an answer.
We are becoming one, my filly, Luna thought to her rider. We will speak later, if we can. For now, we have a life to save, do we not?
Yes! Oh, my Goddess! We will— Chiara began, now fully sensing the presence of her deity beneath her.
Hush child. Concentrate on our task, Luna thought, through the strengthening bond between them. You said you would be directing our travel, yes?
Chiara mentally and physically nodded, going back to guiding them as they hurtled across a massive field of growing grass meant to provide hay in a few weeks. As they moved, the thunder of Luna’s hooves echoed through her entire being and by the end of the first mile Chiara and Luna had reached that wonderful synergy that all riders seek to find with their mounts, and then they went beyond it. They ceased to be horse and rider, ceased to be individuals working together toward a common goal. They were one.
One pounding heart, one driving mind, one set of thunderous hooves catapulting them forward, and Luna’s core filled with power as Chiara gave everything she had to the being she worshipped, driving them forward even faster as they raced the clock to beat death itself.
But there was something in their path...