Laci woke up when the sun reached overhead. Someone had put her in a tent under a blanket. She grabbed her aching shoulder, and felt a bandage.

  What happened to me last night?

  She lifted her head slowly, and looked down at her legs. There were brown stains that splattered and ran all over her white markings. She spotted the singed hair on her neck, the long strikes and burns that scarred her body. Then she heard the voice again.

  “How are you feeling, little dove? I was scared to lose you,” the stallion said.

  Her face jerked upwards. A slender chestnut horse no less than eighteen hands high stared down at her. The star on his forehead seemed too perfect, like its placement was purposeful. His body was smoky, and she could see right through him. His red mane was braided tightly into neat plaits, and he had dark eyes that held little expression.

  “Who are you?” she asked, struck with fear. Memories of the night before started flooding in. Screaming, blood everywhere, Marshall trying to calm her down, Doctor Greg tending to her.

  “My name is Sultan. I am one of your ancestors,” he explained.

  “You-you’re the one who told me to-”

  “Yes. I was. Laci, I want to help you recognize your abilities. Hotblooded horses are not like anyone else,” he said. He lowered his head and inspected her wounds. “Your determination is proof of that.”

  Hotblood. She remembered Doctor Greg’s words. Hot horse. High strung.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Laci, hotbloods don’t simply exist. We were designed. We were bred and born to be warriors. My kingdom has long since fallen, but that doesn’t mean our type disappeared,” he said.

  “I’m going insane,” she said, putting her hooves to her head. Her legs flickered with movement, not wanting to be still for even a moment. She could still taste the blood in her teeth.

  “I promise you’re not. Your aggression, attentiveness, skill in battle, predator’s nature-it’s not by chance. You are like me.” A drop of blood trickled down his nose and hit the ground in front of Laci.

  “So I was predestined all this time to lose my mind? What are you talking about?” she shouted. Tears started to well up in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to be like you. You’re the reason why everyone is afraid of me.”

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  “I didn’t make you who you are, Laci. You are responsible for that,” he whispered. “What I came here for is to help you. I understand that the magic is in danger of being lost. That is why the amulet allowed me to be with you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s alright. You don’t have to, not right away. I will help you in your endeavor to rescue your friends. I wasn’t raised a warrior for nothing,” he told her.

  “How are you supposed to help?”

  “I’ll train you. I’ll always be with you. Even when no one else can be.”

  Without another word, she went outside in search of Marshall. He was sitting on the ground next to Doctor Greg, and they both looked at her worriedly.

  “Hey, Laci, how are you feeling?” Marshall said softly.

  “I’m-okay, I guess. Can we talk?” she asked.

  …

  “There’s a ghost of a horse assassin following you around?”

  “I know it sounds insane. It is insane. I don’t know what to do. He says he wants to help us find Orion,” she tried to explain.

  Marshall sighed. “I guess I can’t expect anything less at this point. Why on Earth would we go after Orion?”

  Laci was taken aback. “Why wouldn’t we? He rescued me,”

  “We’re going to get captured again, or even killed. We have no chance at rescuing them. Every other horse that’s tried has failed. It’s too late.”

  She flattened her ears. “We can’t just give up! If we don’t save them, the magic is going to die with us,” she argued.

  Marshall let out a long sigh. “Laci, I know you’re scared and there’s a lot going on. But saving Orion is a suicide mission. We have to think of ourselves.”

  The red horse standing beside Laci snorted. “Not with me on your side. I will make them cower before you. You are a force to be reckoned with. Don’t let this sport horse tell you off.”

  Laci raised her head and her mane lit up in flames. “They haven’t seen a hotblood try before,” she said.

  Marshall was frightened and backed away. “Laci, stop. It’s not safe. I don’t want a repeat of last night,” he admitted.

  She let her fire burn back to black again. “What do you mean?”

  He shuffled his feet nervously. “Laci-you almost killed a whole group of horses, and I couldn’t stop you. It scared me. A lot.”

  She remembered everything. Sultan’s voice in her ear. Her body brimming with energy. Ripping at skin like there was no tomorrow.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed. There was an unsettled look to Marshall, one she didn’t like. She didn’t have the words to make him unafraid. She was ashamed and wanted to run-just like the last time she saw her parents. Like the time she threw that rabbit off and tore his ears open. When she broke Thelma’s arm. Her painful memories would not retreat. What of it had Sultan seen?

  He turned back toward the camp, but paused. “Don’t be sorry for me. I’m not the one you hurt.”

  She stood stock still and trembling, not sure what to think. Sultan came closer and put his head against hers.

  “It’s alright, little dove. He doesn’t know you yet,” he whispered.