Spring of the Poacher's Moon

  Chapter 11

  It’s amazing how time can stand still when you’re terrified. Everything moves in slow motion and I felt I was moving even slower than that once I heard Martin’s words. Ten thousand minutes later, I’d inhaled once and heard the second coffee cup being set down in a long drawn out tone of metal on rock.

  “Hhuuurrrrryyyyy,” whispered Charlie.

  Ggooo! I mind-shouted to Redwing, and the word pulled out long in my brain like a howl. I fumbled with the next knot.

  “Heeeyyy!”

  I’d been seen! I looked up to see the youngest poacher staring at me with shocked eyes.

  “What?” asked Martin, spinning around, again in slow-mo.

  My fingernail bent back as I jerked on the next knot and I cried out. But the knot loosened.

  The young poacher took his first running stride toward us… and then they heard Redwing crashing through the bushes toward us. Fear careened instantly to all three faces. The running poacher slid to a stop and they all spun to face the sound.

  Was a hunger-crazed bear coming to eat their food? Coming to eat them? They didn’t expect it to be Redwing, that’s for sure. I had time now, mere seconds, but still better than nothing.

  I undid the last knot just as Redwing burst into view and ran toward the group, his ears back and teeth bared. He looked powerful and vicious and glorious and luminously stunning, all at once. I would’ve cried at his beauty if I wasn’t so scared.

  Charlie’s hands whipped forward to untie his legs. “Go,” he said to me, and believe me, I went! I raced around the back of the tent and lunged up the hillside. I heard a raging horse cry behind me, and then someone shouted, his voice almost as high as a scream.

  A gunshot exploded!

  You two safe? I didn’t want to stop. I was still too close to the camp, but I couldn’t both run and concentrate enough to horse talk, and I had to know if one of them had been hit...

  I waited. There was a long pause. Thirty seconds. Forty five. Fifty.

  Safe.

  I closed my eyes in relief, but only for a moment. I had to get safe too. I ran, crashing through bushes, leaping over blowdown, dodging tree trunks. Halfway up the incline, I slowed to a jog to talk to Rusty. I didn’t have to concentrate as much with him.

  Rusty! Can you come?

  Coming!

  “There she is!”

  I almost screamed. Only my survival instinct stopped me from wasting the time and energy. I charged up the rest of the hill, using my legs to run, dash, sprint, rush; my arms to grab branches and jerk, haul, pull myself along faster, faster, faster. I became mindless. I became panic. I became the ground I covered, the bushes that opposed me, the hill that stole my breath… On and on, up and up and up…

  And then I noticed the sound of my pursuers – their thrashings, grunts, and rude exclamations – became just a little quieter. And a little quieter still. I was leaving them behind. There’s something to be said for complete and total terror, that’s for sure.

  Then gold and silver flashed between the tree trunks in front of me. Twilight and Rusty! I ran toward them, slower now that my panic was dying, and flung my arms around Rusty’s neck.

  “Thank you, thank you,” I gasped. “Thank you.” His strength seeped into me, calming me. His awareness steadied me.

  But he wasn’t relaxing; his muscles felt iron hard beneath my hands. I turned and looked back. The young poacher was about fifteen yards back, racing towards me with a crazed look in his eyes.

  I jumped aboard Rusty’s back – and suddenly I felt ridiculously safe. Even a little bit sassy. I know, I’m bad.

  “Hey, bad guy!” I yelled.

  He stopped to glare at me. Streaks marred his cheeks where branches had slapped him. I hoped they stung. I know it sounds mean, but he’d been willing to “get rid” of Charlie. Sure, I’d wanted to get rid of Charlie too, just a couple hours ago, but it wasn’t remotely the same type of getting rid of.

  “You are so busted,” I added, and smiled at him, sweet as honey.

  He roared and rushed forward. I couldn’t help but laugh as Rusty leisurely spun about and swept into a canter, carrying me safely away.

  I looked back once, just in time to see Twilight, who had lagged behind, kick her heels up in the poacher’s face.

  The man skidded to a stop, his face bright red with anger. He clenched his fists as we galloped away. He knew he wasn’t going to catch me now. They could chase us with their ATVs, but ATV travel requires trails and meadows, or at the very least, wide spaces between trees. Horses could cut through the endless forests, and besides, it was almost night, which gave us even more of an advantage.

  As soon as I was out of sight of the bad guy, the trembling started. No, I’m not a total freak – it’s normal after having masses of adrenalin surge through your body. The trembling built and I had a hard time hanging onto Rusty’s back, especially since he wore no tack and was determined to get me away from the poachers as quickly as possible. When he realized I was having trouble, he slowed down a bit. He’s so thoughtful – or practical. No time would be gained if I fell off.

  Then I noticed he wasn’t heading straight home.

  Where we going?

  Redwing and his man.

  We met them about a mile from the poacher’s camp. Charlie’s face was still gray from the aftershock of his experience and his expression was serious. He stopped Redwing in front of us and stared at me. I kept quiet, leaving the first words up to him, sincerely hoping they’d be words of gratitude and not one of the many accusations he could throw my way.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded. “You?”

  “Yeah.” Charlie sighed. He didn’t sound overly thrilled about being okay. “I’ll ride into town tonight and tell the authorities, but I don’t know if it’ll do any good.” His forehead wrinkled. “All the guide needs to do is stash his ATVs and guns, dump the moose head, and then put on clean clothes and shave. They’d never recognize him from our description. We don’t even have a name to give them. And unless the guide tells the police the names of his clients and where they’re from, they’ll never be caught either.”

  My smugness at bringing criminals to justice vanished in a puff of dismay. “I thought the guide’s name was Martin.”

  “That wouldn’t be his real name. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell us his real name,” Charlie said, sounding completely sure of himself.

  “I know who he is.”

  Charlie looked up, suddenly interested. “You’ve seen him before?”

  “No, but…” I pulled the wallet I’d found under the pillow from my pocket and held it up for Charlie to see. His eyes lit up.

  I tossed it to him and he opened it, then grinned. “How’d you do that?” For the first time ever, his eyes smiled at me. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating when he smiled. I almost relaxed. Almost.

  “I came across it in his tent, when I was on my way to rescue you.” Hint, hint, Mr. Ungrateful.

  “Yeah, thanks for that. Takes a lot of courage to do what you did.”

  “No problem. You would have done the same for me.” And I knew as soon as I said the words that they were true. Charlie would’ve done everything possible to save me if our positions had been reversed. Even though he had a suspicious nature and seemed grumpy the vast majority of the time, he was okay.

  And now that that was all settled, I needed to get going. I could feel Mom freaking out.

  Charlie nodded, acknowledging the basic fact he would’ve saved me too. “So you can get home, okay?”

  “I don’t need an escort, if that’s what you mean.”

  He nodded again. But he didn’t ride away. Wasn’t it time for him to go? Didn’t he have to hurry? But still he looked at me, the whites of his eyes glowing in the near darkness.

  I was about to ask Rusty to turn, thinking that Charlie was done speaking even though he wasn’t going anywhere yet, when his voice floated toward me. “There’s an old native legend my gran
dmother told me as a child. You don’t hear it much anymore, but I remember.”

  A couple of frogs croaked in the silence that followed.

  “Yeah?” I said, prompting him to hurry.

  “The short version is that over countless generations, people became removed from the earth, distant from all that is wild and natural, separated from their beginning. And so the great mother, in her wisdom, caused a bridge to be built between humans and animals.”

  A chill wind blew around me. It was almost dark, but I could still see Charlie’s eyes and it looked like he was staring right through me. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

  Like that was going to stop him.

  “Within every human generation, one person is born in the gulf between the worlds,” he continued. “This person understands both humans and animals, and acts as the bridge to the natural world for the rest of humanity.” He paused and cleared his throat. “This person can speak both languages.”

  I could hardly breathe.

  “I think,” he added, his words as slow as molasses, “for this generation, the bridge is between human and horse.”

  “That’s a stupid story,” I managed to croak, but barely heard myself over the sound of my blood rushing through my ears. Of course, he ignored me.

  “When I was a child, I wished I’d been born with the gift of speaking to horses. It was my favourite imaginary game – but just a game. But you?” He leaned forward in his saddle. “Well, there’s no other way to explain Leo coming right when we needed him most. There’s no other way to explain you winning a wild filly’s heart, or that your gelding is perfectly controlled with no bridle.”

  “Let’s go, Rusty,” I whispered.

  “Wait. I need your help one more time,” he added, before we could leave. “It’s important and only you can tell me. What is Leo’s real name?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, a little more firmly. There was no way he was going to trick me like that. No one would know my secret unless I told them. No one.

  Charlie leaned back in his saddle and looked grumpier than ever. “Well, we both better be going then,” he drawled and reined Redwing – no, Leo, I had to start thinking of him as Leo, or I’d mess up – away from me. Then he stopped, looked back. “Just one more thing. I respect your gift. Your secret is always safe with me.” Then he asked Leo to walk on. Within seconds, they were lost to the night.

  I stared after them in a daze until the urgency of my situation forced itself back into my mind. I had to get home. Poor Mom would be freaking. I’d have to think up some story to put her mind at ease.

  Once everything was done, once Mom was over her anger and the calf was saved, then and only then, could I fritter away my time thinking. Charlie thought he knew my secret. He guessed that I could talk to horses. The realization made me sick.

  So my worst nightmare had come true: someone else knew. The big question was, what would Charlie do with that knowledge?