Some little part of me feels guilty for misleading Cissy here when she’s trying to be nice, but my inner demon has that little part of me in a sleeper hold. “Sounds like a plan.”
Cissy and I leave the mansion, hike past the hedgerow maze, and head toward a long and thin building on the outer grounds: the Ryder stables. A great wooden door marks the entrance; Cissy hauls it open. Inside, there’s a long central aisle with about a dozen stalls on either side.
I walk up the main aisle, peeking in the different stalls. Dry hay crunches beneath my feet. “I’ve always wondered. Why do the Ryders have stables anyway? Zeke never talks about riding and his parents only seem to love tennis.”
“It’s for guests. Thrax aren’t the only ones who like to travel by horse. Some ghouls and demons do it too. Normally, there are only a few horses in residence, but with the thrax in town, the stables are almost always full these days.”
I look at the different horses, reading the names printed above the stalls. “Moon Shadow. Firelight. Eugene.”
“That last one is a demon horse. Don’t go near it.”
My brows arch with admiration. “You’re a fountain of diplomatic information, Miss Frederickson.”
Cissy grins. “Zeke’s parents have taught me all sorts of stuff. It’s really interesting.”
A horse with a bluish-gray coat steps out of a nearby stall. She prances up to me and whinnies.
I smile. I’d know this horse anywhere. She’s been a target of the Doxy demons for months. They love to snarl her mane and tail; I love to play her personal demon exterminator. I run my fingers through the horse’s silky black mane. “What’s your name, lovely?”
Cissy steps up to the now-empty stall. “She’s a thrax horse. Her name’s Nightshade.” Cissy peeps inside. “I wonder how she got out of her stall.”
I shrug. “You said the horses were enchanted. Maybe they can do magic.”
Nightshade couches onto the stable floor. Her big black eyes stare at me in a way that says ‘climb on.’
My body buzzes with excitement. I quickly slip onto into Nightshade; her back feels warm and steady below me as she rises to her feet. The next moment, Nightshade begins walking toward the stable doors. A sense of calm and ease washes over me. I feel as if I’ve ridden on her all my life. Grinning, I loop my fingers through her mane and whisper in a low voice. “Take me to the thrax.” She rears on her hind legs.
Cissy frowns. “Not yet, Myla. You’re supposed to wear a gown!”
Nightshade gallops toward the stable exit. I look over my shoulder and wave. “I’ll figure something out!”
I’m pretty sure Cissy screams something at me, but I can’t hear her. Okay, maybe I could hear her if I tried, but I’m riding a freaking horse! Nightshade’s muscles shift beneath me in drum-roll rhythm. The wind whirls across my face, roars in my ears and dances through my long auburn hair. It’s nothing less than glorious.
Nightshade and I pound over the rolling hills behind the Ryder mansion. Exhilaration bubbles through my bloodstream. We thrum across vast fields of high grass. After a short ride, her pace starts to slow.
A trio of purple tents appears on the horizon. They’re all large and held in place by sturdy poles, more like circus tents than camping stuff. A line of tall pine trees looms to their right. Nightshade slows to a halt.
“Are we here, Night?”
The horse nickers.
I release my fingers from her mane, slide down the horse’s barrel and pick my way toward the nearest tent. Everything looks deserted. A girl in a yellow gown steps out from the line of trees. She’s tall and willowy with long blonde hair.
I wave my arms. “Hello, there!”
The girl stops, eyeing me from head to toe. “Are you lost too? I’ve lived here for months and I still can’t find my way around. This place is huge.”
I step closer. “Yes, I’m lost. Kind of.”
She grins. “Forgive my bad manners.” She curtsies. “I’m Lady Avery. Who are you?” She blinks her large eyes, one green and one brown.
“I’m Myla.” I stare at her for a moment. “You look familiar.”
“I’m the younger sister of the Great Scala Heir.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I flash my most winning smile. “I’m looking for Prince Lincoln. I have an important message for him.”
She shifts her weight onto her right leg. “He’s at a thrax-only event. You’re not supposed to go unless you’re invited.” She scans my black fighting suit. “And unless you’re wearing proper dress.”
“Of course, I was invited to today’s…” I look at her encouragingly.
“Battle practice with the young Lords?”
Not a bright one, that Avery.
“Exactly. That’s totally what I was invited to. And I got an official exception for the dress thing.”
Avery frowns. “I’ve never heard of an official exception.”
“I have a skin condition. This suit was, uh, prescribed by my doctor.” I hold out my hand. “You should stand back. It’s kind of contagious.”
“Oh, my!”