Orion trudged through the black forest, head low and vision blurry. It was a windy night, he was still unsteady from being drugged, and his legs were numb.

  “How much further until we lose them?” Rune called out from the back.

  Orion paused to catch his breath. “I don’t even remember how far we’ve gone.”

  “We have to have gone at least four miles by now. We’ve been walking for hours,” Greg said.

  “Let’s stop to rest, then. Everyone looks terrible,” Rune pointed out.

  The bay Egyptian Arabian laid her ears back and rolled her eyes. “Wow, thank you for being such a ray of sunshine, Rune.”

  He settled on the ground and held Eliza in his lap. “Everyone except for Ariel, of course. She can’t help but look perfect all the time.”

  She looked at the cold, muddy ground with disgust, but sat down anyway, pouting snobbishly.

  Rune leaned over to Greg discreetly. “Don’t mind her. She’s just a bit of a brat. Got locked up when she was three and never matured.”

  “What happened to her?” Greg asked.

  Rune went quiet for a moment. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. I don’t think she’ll be happy if I share all the details. She’s got illusion magic; can make herself look any way she likes. That’s not her real body.”

  Greg looked over at the Arab again and saw what Rune meant. She was almost too perfect. There was a star on her forehead that he didn’t remember seeing when he was giving her the reversal. She had a dramatically dished face, gigantic doe eyes, and her mane was slicked down neatly while everyone else’s was a mess of fairy knots. Everything about her shined. It was like she had walked out of a show ring to get there.

  “Why does she do all that? She’s pretty to begin with,” Greg whispered.

  Rune snorted. “You tell me. Every horse here has something wrong with them if you look hard enough.”

  Orion walked over to Laci and felt her over for injury. Greg came closer to help.

  “She’s just overused her magic, according to Rune,” he explained.

  Orion let out a long breath and sat down next to her. “I know. I’m only worried about when she wakes up.”

  She looked so precious on the ground, her stark white markings blazing even in the darkness. There was blood all over her, running down her legs in streams, splattering up her shoulders in speckles. She seemed relatively uninjured, just battered around a little.

  “Poor filly,” was all Greg could say.

  He carefully washed her wounds with his water magic, and the stains slowly drained away. Orion covered her with a cloak of dark magic to keep her warm, and Rune sparked up a small fire. The lot of them gathered around it in a tight circle, faces glowing in the light. Marmalade sat strong and stoic, Marshall under one arm and the cob under the other. The grey Arab, who had more of a Western look than Ariel, was quietly brooding nearby.

  “Ash, how are you feeling?” Orion asked the mare.

  She stared into the fire pensively. “Orion, how old are you?”

  “I’m-thirteen now.”

  She wrapped her arms around her face, and Orion realized why she asked.

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  “Ashley, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he managed. “I tried everything. I took in Laci and Miracle, I wanted to rescue you. I did it all for you.”

  She buried her head in his mane, and stayed there for some time. No one said a word.

  “Don’t ever think that it was your fault, Orion. Those worthless rabbits-they took nine years from me. Not you,” she growled. She stomped away from the fire furiously, tail switching. “And I’ll do anything in my power to keep that from happening to anyone ever again.”

  Orion drifted from the fire, and the two of them stared into the woods, side by side. Orion’s ears pricked at the sound of something moving slowly through the trees, and he crept closer to it. A dark figure slipped between the branches before him, with a flash of white on its hindquarters.

  “Do you see that?” he whispered to Ashley.

  She squinted into the trees for a moment, but shook her head.

  He wandered into the woods cautiously, picking his feet up over every stick and root. He saw the translucent form was a black draft stallion, with the mottled nose of an Appaloosa. The ghost looked at him curiously.

  “Who are you?” Orion said, nervous to come closer.

  “My name is Onyx. I’ve been watching over you for some time, Orion. You can finally see me?” the horse said.

  Orion nodded. “It’s a blessing to finally meet you. I’ve been waiting so long.”

  Onyx laughed heartily. “Magic is a confusing thing. The Amulet is far more patient than any one of us.”

  “What is the Amulet?” Orion asked.

  The spotted horse summoned a glittering artifact suspended on a cord. A sizable priceless gemstone was set in copper at its end, and even in the scant moonlight it shone brilliantly.

  “This ancient relic has been protected by the Bestowers, wise and powerful leaders, for generations. Its original purpose was to give magic to every horse, allowing them to pass it on to their children. Now it holds the ancestral home of the tribe, created by the unity of many different magical horses. I hope it will protect you and your herd, as it did mine,” Onyx explained.

  Orion carefully took the Amulet and placed the cord around his neck. Miraculously, the copper did not harm him. “You’re sure you want me to have this?”

  “Yes. The Amulet has brought us together because it has decided you are ready. But becoming a Bestower is no small task, Orion. You must protect it with your life. If it falls into the possession of your enemies, the consequences are drastic,” he warned.

  Orion stared down at the weighty artifact. “How am I to protect it? I can barely protect my friends.”

  The mysterious horse put a hoof to Orion’s shoulder. “You won’t have to do it on your own. I will stay by your side, and I will teach you everything you must know. Your magic has potential that you have not yet explored.”

  Orion held the Amulet close, and he could practically feel its power surging in the sole of his hoof like a heartbeat. “It would be an honor. I will do my best,” he promised.

  He walked back over to the fire, and displayed the relic proudly. Rune recognized it at once.

  “You have it? The Amulet?” he said, with the excitement of a colt.

  Orion smiled brightly. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  Rune immediately leapt to his feet and touched the piece, looking into its bottomless shine with wide eyes. “We should summon the ancestral home. It’s exactly what we need to protect us.”

  Orion cocked his head. “You know about that already?”

  “Thunder told me all about it, and I’ve seen it in the visions. It’s huge, there are nearly too many rooms to count,” he described.

  “Maybe we can lie low in there while everyone recovers,” Greg suggested.

  Rune snorted. “We’d be doing more than lying low. From what I’ve seen, it is far from modest. It’s got a massive ballroom, infirmary, and chambers fit for royalty.”

  “How would we even summon it?” Orion asked.

  Onyx slid in next to Orion. “It’s tied to the primary magic used to create it, dark magic. You should only need to give it a little to start it, and you’ll need more room than this. Unless you’d like the parlor to be filled with trees, that is.”

  Orion and Rune walked out of the grove and located a field not far from their campsite. Carefully, Orion drew his hoof over the Amulet and allowed his magic to flow into it, which it readily accepted. The stone rested on his chest lifelessly, and no dramatic transformation took place.

  “I don’t think it worked,” Rune whispered.

  The ground began to tremble slightly, and a rift in time opened in the skies. Magic from every kind of horse broke loose and rippled toward the ground, weaving in an intricate dance. The rafters climbed up to the height of the highest trees, and the mansion began to knit itself together in a wild display of color.

  Orion marveled at the sight. “You weren’t lying. This is incredible.”

  “I’ll get the others,” Rune said. He dashed off like a bullet.