Mystic And The Midnight Ride Part 6

"Let's do it!" Issie clucked Blaze into a trot, but instead of rising up and down in her stirrups she stood up in them and practised her two-point cross-country position, balancing easily in midair with s.p.a.ce to spare between her and the saddle.

Blaze jogged along, letting out snuffly snorts of excitement as if she knew they were leaving the paddock and going somewhere new.

"Remember to keep to single file near the roads," Stella shouted out. "I'll go up front with Coco since she's not likely to charge off. Issie, you can go in the middle with Blaze and Toby can bring up the rear."

The three of them set off at a brisk trot. A bit too brisk for Issie's liking-Blaze's trot was still bouncy enough to throw her about in the saddle, and she couldn't wait to reach open land so they could canter.

By the time they'd reached the open fields of the hunt-club land, the horses were in a sweat from the trot work. Tiny Coco was flecked with white froth on her neck and had green foam oozing out of her mouth from working the bit.

"Everyone ready to canter?" Stella yelled back over her shoulder. Issie and Kate both gave a silent nod and the three of them loosened the reins and let Coco, Toby and Blaze have their heads.

Issie looked down at the ground and watched as it became a blur of green and brown as Blaze cantered on. The chestnut mare was fast, Issie knew that much already. But it seemed that with each week, as her fitness improved, her speed increased.

"Steady, girl, easy now," Issie breathed to her horse, but the wind pushed her words back down her throat. Blaze had opened up and had started to gallop. She was wild with the thrill of running, and even with a firm hand on the reins Issie knew it would be hard to stop her now.

This time, though, instead of trying to hold the mare back, she gave Blaze her head and sat high in the saddle. Let her run, Issie thought. Let's see what this horse can do.

To the left of her, Kate was on Toby, urging the long-limbed Thoroughbred on. Toby was an exracehorse, and yet, even at full gallop, Blaze could match him stride for stride. As the two horses ran on, Blaze's stride lengthened until she began to edge ahead of the big bay. By the time they reached the road leading to Winterflood Farm Blaze was ahead by a length. The mare's chestnut neck glistened with sweat and her breath was coming hard and raspy with the effort of the run.

"Easy, girl, slow down now." Issie tightened her grip on the reins and Blaze responded to the pressure, slowing her pace. Kate pulled Toby up next to her and the two girls and their horses came to a stop next to the farm gate to catch their breath.

"That was amazing!" Kate panted. "Toby was really stretching out back there and Blaze still beat him! I had no idea she was so fast!"

"Neither did I!" Issie said. She reached down and gave the mare a solid pat on her sweaty neck.

The sound of pounding hooves behind them made the two girls turn around. Stella and Coco were bearing down on them as fast as they could canter "Thank G.o.d I've finally caught up with you two!" Stella pulled Coco up to a halt. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since we started cantering." Stella looked concerned.

"Have you noticed it? Over there. That white van? Careful, don't let them see you looking!" Stella tried to gesture over her shoulder without actually turning around. Behind her a white van was parked on the gra.s.s verge that led to the hunt-club fields.

"Yeah, what about it?" Kate snapped. She was distracted, still having trouble hanging on to Toby as the Thoroughbred stomped about, all overexcited from his run.

"I'm sure it's the same one we saw the other day at the River Paddock," Stella whispered. "I know it sounds stupid, but I think it's following us."

"You know, they're parked miles away, Stella, they can't hear you, you don't need to whisper," Kate groaned.

"Look, I'm serious!" Stella insisted. "They've been driving along watching us. I'm sure of it. It's really creeping me out. I think we should turn around and go home."

"Nonsense!" Kate was in no mood for this now.

"You and your stories, Stella! I'm going over there to ask them what they want."

Without any more discussion on the matter she wheeled Toby around and cantered the big bay off towards the parked van.

In the distance the figures of two men suddenly sprang into motion. The driver, a short stocky type with a thick black bushy beard, jumped behind the wheel of the van while the other man, much skinnier and taller than the driver, ran around the van, quickly leaping into the pa.s.senger seat. The engine revved and, by the time Kate reached the gra.s.s verge, the van was gone.

"You were right," Kate had to admit as she trotted back to join the group. "They must have been watching us. At least they tore off in an awful hurry for some reason. This is creepy."

"I'll tell you what else is weird," Stella said. "You know how the spare paddock keys went missing the other day? Well I found them again! They were back on the hook in the shed as if they were there all along!" Stella narrowed her eyes. "I bet it's got something to do with those guys in the van."

Kate shook her head and sighed at Stella's latest revelation. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Stella, now you've got me falling for your crazy mystery stories! Those keys probably just got lost under that big mess of horse blankets you were chucking around."

"No, they didn't!" Stella was red-faced. "I looked everywhere for them! Someone took them and then they must have put them back again!"

"Anyway," Kate wheeled her horse around impatiently, "let's head for home." She looked across at Issie. "But no galloping this time, eh? I'm too exhausted. Let's just trot the rest of the way."

Issie nodded in agreement. But she wasn't really listening to Kate. She was looking up the road where the white van had disappeared. Stella was right. It was the same van they had seen parked down by the paddock the other day. And now the question was beginning to puzzle her. Just who were they following? And why?

CHAPTER 12.

The dream started as it always did-with the sound of hoofbeats. Issie stared into the pitch-blackness, the thunder of hooves seemed to be surrounding her. This time, though, the grey horse didn't appear from the dark. Instead, the hoofbeats stopped and she could hear a soft whinny, calling to her, calling her out of sleep.

Issie woke with a start. Her dreams about Mystic had always seemed vivid, but never as real as this. She could have sworn she heard the neigh of a horse outside her bedroom window. She held her breath-there it was again! Only she was awake now, and still she heard it!

Issie crept up to the window as if she were stepping on broken gla.s.s, slowly, carefully. Through the lace of the curtain she could make out a shape moving on the lawn. She pulled the curtain back and peered out into the dark. It looked like a horse all right, but it was impossible to see properly. She would have to get dressed and go outside.

Quickly pulling on an old pair of jeans, a polar fleece and boots she ran for the back door that led to the lawn. Her mind was racing. How could a horse end up in her garden? She had an idea, but it was silly, impossible. She opened the back door and stepped out into the yard.

At first, she thought the horse must have vanished. In the dark it seemed like the green expanse of the lawn was empty. But then, in the corner of the garden underneath some tall birch trees she saw him. A dapple-grey, she could tell that much, even at this distance. But she needed to get closer. Silently she took one step, then another and then another, edging her way towards the horse. When she was a few metres away the little grey let out a low nicker, and stepped forward out from under the trees to meet her.

Tears filled Issie's eyes as she buried her head in the grey mane. It was Mystic. And he felt real and warm to her touch, not like a ghost horse, but like her own pony. She could even smell his sweet horsy smell as she kept her head pressed hard against his neck and tried to stop the tears from coming.

"Easy, boy, easy, Mystic," Issie cooed gently to him.

But Mystic would not stand still. He pulled away from her, shaking his head to free her hands from the tangle of his mane, and began to paw the ground in a frantic state. Then he let out a wild snort and wheeled about, racing all the way to the far end of the garden where the gate led to the street, then galloping back to stand in front of Issie. Again and again he repeated his frenzied run, charging up and down the lawn.

As Issie watched him gallop once more for the gate, she finally realised what Mystic was trying to tell her. He wanted her to ride him. Each time he ran down to the far end of the garden, Mystic came to a halt right in front of the five-barred gate that led to the street. Now Issie could see that the gate was the perfect height for her to climb up and mount the grey horse.

As he headed back down the lawn for the fourth time, Issie ran after him. This time, when Mystic reached the gate he paused and waited for her to catch up to him. Then he stood still, snorting and quivering with antic.i.p.ation as she clambered quickly up the gate rails and, hesitating just for a moment, threw herself lightly on to his back.

If this is a dream, Issie decided, I must surely wake up now. Instead she felt the sleek coat of her horse warm underneath her, and the ropey fibres of horsehair between her fingers as she buried her hands in Mystic's mane. The little grey leapt forward as he felt her weight on his back but Issie quickly calmed him, making him stand still so she could lean over to unlock the latch on the gate.

There was a slice of moon in the sky that provided just enough light so that Issie could make out the blurry outline of a horse beneath her. In the moonlight, Mystic's dappled coat seemed to melt into the night. It was almost as if she was riding a vapour, a wisp of grey smoke.

For a moment she wondered again whether she was dreaming. Then the clatter of hooves on tarmac jarred her back to reality as Mystic stepped through the gate and out on to the road. Now the streetlights were there to illuminate their path and Issie could clearly see her horse's grey ears p.r.i.c.ked forward in front of her, swivelling occasionally to listen to the sound of her voice.

Issie clucked Mystic gently on, and without a bridle to steer with, she used her legs to guide the horse to the gra.s.s verge on the side of the road. With the soft gra.s.s underfoot she let the little grey break into a canter and felt a thrill tingle through her. She had forgotten how wonderful it was to ride this horse. The weeks of riding Blaze without a saddle had paid off, and Mystic's paces were so smooth and gentle, Issie felt as if she were riding a rocking horse. The summer breeze whipped her hair across her face. Blinded for a moment, she let her hands slip through Mystic's mane and had to scramble to grab another handful of horse hair.

"Even if this is a dream, I'd better hang on," she reminded herself. She realised now that there was no use steering. Mystic seemed to know where he was going. Instead of trying to guide the grey pony, Issie let him take her along for the ride.

The cold nip of the evening air made her eyes stream tears, and the chill of the wind in her face froze a rosy pink glow on her cheeks. "Just hold tight," she told herself out loud. And at that moment she realised just what a strange picture the pair of them must make. A young girl, her black hair caught in the wind, her pyjamas sticking out from underneath the polar fleece jumper, riding bareback without a bridle in the middle of the night on a grey ghost, a horse whose dappled coat was hardly visible against the trees in the moonlight. No one would believe this. She didn't know whether to believe it herself. All she could do was hang on.

Away from the streetlights now, in the darkness, it was impossible to tell where they were. Now and then she would pa.s.s a house with the porch lights on and she'd be able to make out a familiar shadow or a street sign, but she was far too busy trying to stay on Mystic's back to look too hard at anything else around her. So at first, when Mystic came to a halt, she felt completely confused, directionless. Then she heard the sound of the river flowing fast and strong beside them and could make out the shapes of horses grazing in the field in front of them.

Of course! They were here, at the River Paddock. But why? Why had Mystic brought her here tonight?

She was about to dismount and stretch her legs, try to figure out what was going on, when she heard the sound of a car engine cruising up the street behind her. Car headlights caught her in their beam, momentarily blinding her.

The drivers of the car couldn't have seen her because they kept driving straight past her towards the paddock gate. As they drove past, Issie's eyes adjusted back to the darkness. And then she saw who it was. Not a car at all, but a white van. The white van. The same one that had been parked outside the paddock watching them. The same one that had followed them on the ride to Winterflood Farm. The bearded man and the skinny one were sitting in the van just like before. But this time they were towing a red horse float behind them.

The van stopped and one of the men jumped out to open the gate to the horse paddock. Issie's mind was racing now. What were these men doing here? None of the horses that grazed at the River Paddock belonged to them. Besides, why would they come here in the middle of the night? What did they want?

On the other side of the van the door opened and a man stepped out. Then Issie saw he was holding a halter in his hand and she realised: they were here to steal a horse.

All this time, Mystic had been quiet underneath Issie, his dapple-grey coat was the perfect camouflage in this darkness amongst the willow trees by the river. There was no way the men could see them. But they might hear them. In the still of the night, Mystic gave a gentle nicker and the sound carried across the paddocks.

"What was that?" the big, bearded one barked out.

"What?" the other shouted back.

"That noise. It sounded like a horse."

"Well, of course it did, you idiot. We're at a horse paddock, aren't we? It's full of horses. Now stop mucking about, throw over those keys to the gate and then give me a hand. Remember, we're looking for a chestnut with four white socks. She shouldn't be hard to find-she's the only chestnut in the herd."

Issie felt her heart stop. A chestnut with four white socks? They could only mean Blaze. They were here to steal her horse! This was a nightmare. She had to do something. But what? She could try to get to Blaze before they did, but in the dark there was no guarantee that she would find her horse first. And even if she caught Blaze, what then? There were two of them and their van was blocking the only exit in the paddock, making escape impossible. No, she had to stop these men. And for that she would need some help.

"Come on, boy, we've got to go," she spoke gently under her breath to Mystic, turning the little grey away from the paddock and back towards the Point. Winterflood Farm was ten minutes away at a fast gallop. If she could just find it in the darkness. And if she could only make it in time. She had to make it in time.

For the first minute, Issie had to force herself to keep calm and walk on. She was dying to get moving but she didn't want the men to hear the sound of Mystic's hooves pounding on the soft gra.s.s.

As soon as she knew she was safely out of range, Issie urged Mystic on into a canter, then a gallop. In the dark she knew it was risky. Mystic's night vision couldn't be much better than her own. There was always the chance that the grey pony might lose his footing or injure himself by getting a leg caught in a rabbit hole. But she had ridden this way before, just the other day on Blaze, and she knew it well enough.

Then there was the chance that at full gallop she might lose her balance, fall to the ground. Riding at this speed bareback was foolhardy at best. Issie knew that. But she also knew she had no choice.

If the wind had whipped her hair before, now it lashed it across her face with the sting of a birch branch. But she couldn't free her hands to wipe the strands away, she was too busy hanging on, clenching with her fingers so that Mystic's mane cut into the flesh of her hands. Her legs gripped firmly around the horse's belly, and she could feel herself sliding on Mystic's back as the grey pony became slick with sweat.

When she had ridden this same path on Blaze it had been daylight and she had the luxury of a saddle. Now, in the pitch black with nothing but her skill to keep her on Mystic's back, she was riding as if her life depended on it. Now I know, Issie realised. Now I know what it's like to really ride a spirited horse.

Despite the speed of Mystic's gallop, the ride from the River Paddock to Avery's house seemed to Issie like it took an entire lifetime. Then finally she heard the clatter of gravel under Mystic's hooves and they rode into the driveway of Winterflood farm.

Mystic pulled to a halt, but before he even had a chance to stop, Issie was vaulting lightly to the ground and running on her own. Running for Avery's front door.

She pressed the buzzer. Nothing. She pressed it again, hammering on the door too this time until her fists were sore. A light went on and then another, and then the door opened and the bleary-eyed face of Avery was staring at her full of amazement.

OhmyG.o.d! Issie suddenly thought. What if he sees Mystic? But when she glanced back over her shoulder at the gravel courtyard the little grey was nowhere to be seen.

"Issie! It's three in the morning, girl! What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

A thousand explanations seemed to choke themselves up in Issie's throat. She realised she had no time for words.

"Please, Tom, please. No time for that. Grab your coat and your car keys and let's go. Blaze is in danger."

CHAPTER 13.

Avery drove the Range Rover at top speed back towards the River Paddock while Issie peered out into the darkness that surrounded them, keeping an eye out in case the white van was already making its getaway with the stolen horse onboard.

"We're almost there, Issie," Avery said, his eyes focused straight ahead, concentrating on the road in front of them. "So you'd better start explaining yourself now. What on earth is going on here?"

Issie quickly unfolded as much of the story as she could. She told Avery about the two men in the white van that had been following them, and how she arrived at the paddock tonight to find the same two men looking for Blaze and overheard their plans to steal her horse.

"When I left to find you they had grabbed a halter and a torch out of the van and they were hunting for her," she explained. "A chestnut with four white socks they said, and Blaze is the only chestnut that grazes at the River Paddock..."

"Wait a minute. What were you doing down at the paddock in the middle of the night all by yourself?" Avery asked.

"Ummm..." Issie faltered, "I was worried about Blaze, I guess. You know, because she's been so sick and with the event coming up. The weather had got so cold and I'd forgotten to put her cover on. I rode down to check on her on my bike and that's when I saw them."

Thankfully, it seemed that Avery was satisfied with this explanation.

He nodded his head thoughtfully, his mouth set in a grim line. Then he spoke.

"The question is, Issie, what are we going to do when we get there? There's just two of us, so I don't know how much use we'll be against two burly chaps. Listen, you'd better hunt around in my glovebox there for my mobile. When we get to the paddock I'll go off and see if I can find these men and make sure they haven't hurt Blaze. Meanwhile you stay back at the car, and if you haven't heard back from me in about five minutes, give the police a call. Tell them what's going on as best you can and tell them to get down here straight away, that there's a theft in progress. Can you do that?"

Issie nodded. But she was worried. "Can't I come with you, Tom? There are two of them after all. You're going to need my help."

"It's too dangerous, Issie. You did the right thing coming to get me. Now do what I tell you and stay in the car."

They weren't far away from the paddock when Avery turned off the headlights on the Range Rover. "If they don't see us coming it will give us the element of surprise," he explained to Issie.

"That is if they're still there..." Avery squinted into the dark. "...I don't see anything in the paddock. Maybe they've already got Blaze loaded on and taken off..."

Issie's stomach churned as she peered desperately out into the gloom. There it was! The glow of the tail lights of a horse float. They hadn't gone. They were still there!

"Tom, over there!" she whispered.

"I see it," Avery confirmed. And with that, he switched off the Range Rover engine and let the car coast down the hill towards the paddock.

"Element of surprise again." He smiled at Issie. "We don't want them to hear us coming either, do we?"

The Range Rover coasted silently to the side of the road and Avery quietly unlatched his door and jumped out. "Change of plan," he said. "Call the police now, Issie. There's a chance we can catch these guys in the act. I'm going to take a snoop around and see what's going on. Now, remember, after you call the cops, you stay here in the car. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble." Avery gave her a rea.s.suring smile and closed the car door.

Under the shadows of the willow trees Issie could just make him out now, hunched low to the ground, running towards the back of the tack room.

Issie picked up Avery's mobile and dialled the police. Her heart was racing as she heard the dialling tone on the phone. The phone rang once, rang twice, rang a third time...and then stopped.