Song of the Silver Stallion

By C. L. Nectar

Kairos the silver stallion needs a Champion-fast. It might be twelve-year-old Epona, if she can keep her seat while questing bareback through eight perilous horse realms.

Kairos's world will be&nbsp

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flying Sun Press
• Release date: Feb 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736569115

Book preview

1

Seventh Grade Supernova

Born under the rising Pegasus constellation to an astronomer and a storyteller, Epona Enif Messier Gale did not exactly blame her parents for her strange name. She understood that coming up with a normal name was beyond their mental capabilities. And she liked her first name, pronounced Eh-PONE-ah, which means the goddess of horses.

By fifth grade, she expected the inevitable snickers from the Emmas and the Jennys and embraced the obvious Pony Girl nickname. It wasn’t even that bad because Epona loved horses, volunteering at the Sagebrush Stables every Wednesday after school and riding the mountain trails whenever she had the chance.

But the infernal second name. Epona found Enif, pronounced I-Niff, unsettling. It wasn’t so much because Enif is the biggest and brightest star in the Pegasus constellation—an orange supergiant, although that alone could trigger a far less agreeable nickname—it was because Enif means nose.

Yes, nose as in the muzzle of Pegasus. Epona knew that in the wrong Jenny or Emma’s hands, Enif was disastrous—especially if it were combined with her third name, pronounced Messy-A, catastrophic like a supernova, the explosion that kills the star.

By seventh grade, Epona had successfully concealed her names for so many years that she didn’t talk to her dad about it before he brought his guitar to her science class to tell stories about the stars on her twelfth birthday. It was the fall equinox, and Pegasus was rising again in the night sky above the Mojave Desert.

Stephan Gale gathered the kids in a circle on the floor, strumming his guitar and riffing about Bellerophon’s taming of Pegasus using a golden bridle from the helpful goddess Athena. He spoke of deadly Chimera and of how Bellerophon and Pegasus worked together to slay the monster.

Then Zeus placed Pegasus among the constellations. You can see him rise tonight, he said, striking a bar chord. Be sure to check out the brightest star in the constellation, Enif, he continued. It’s an orange supergiant that’s over three thousand times more luminous than the sun.

That’s an interesting name, observed the science teacher, Mrs. Lindgren.

Indeed, he agreed. "It means nose, for Pegasus’s muzzle."

Epona rose from the circle. She had to get ahead of this. Thanks so much for coming, Dad; this was epic, she said.

Mr. Gale stood up and adjusted his guitar strap. It was my pleasure. Happy birthday, my dear Epona Enif Messier Gale.

Epona froze. For a few seconds, no one said anything. Then Jenny raised her hand.

"What’s a Messier?" she asked with such an innocent expression on her face that Epona wanted to barf. She knew it was the Time of Catastrophe.

"A huge bunch of bright stars all clustered together. They’re known as globulars, he answered, snapping the guitar case shut. And the globular in the Pegasus constellation is one of the oldest known."

Triumphant, Jenny beamed.

Emma giggle-snorted.

Epona knew what it felt like to go supernova.

Later that day, in the cafeteria, it began. Smelly Pony. Fat Pony. Globby Horse. Messy Pony. The super-original Fat and Smelly Globby Messy Pony. Fat Smelly Messy Pony Globby Girl. Pony Fat Girl. Smelly Globby Pony Fat Girl. Old Globby. Etcetera.

Epona knew she was neither fat nor smelly. She wasn’t exactly sure what they even meant by globby, but she knew that she kept her nose clean. It just sucked to be called those names. She wasn’t feeling it and longed for the days of Pony Girl. Some birthday, she thought.

By March, Epona faked sick for two weeks to get a break from it all.

By April, Epona spoke with just a few children and definitely no Jennys or Emmas. She preferred the company of animals, particularly her tortoiseshell cat, Molly, and the horses at the stables. Molly knew and understood a lot despite her limited vocabulary of one word—mrrrow—which meant many different things depending on how she said it. And the horses at the stables were always communicating, whether it was a whicker of hello, a wuffle of thanks for treats, or an excited neigh. Occasionally, a comedian horse would even drop in a perfectly timed fart or sneeze.

And the communications with her animal friends so filled Epona’s cup that she tried to convince the owner of the stables to let her ride bareback and without a bit. She knew that when a horse and rider truly understand each other, there is no need for a bar of metal in the horse’s mouth and a heavy saddle with stirrups. She knew that the golden bridle from Athena must have been bitless. But Mrs. Alvaro always demurred. Liability, she explained, much to Epona’s disappointment.

So by May, the only other kids Epona spoke to were her twelve-year-old twin cousins, Aster and Felspar Marvel. It was too bad they lived so far away in the Alaskan wilderness. Epona was secretly jealous of her homeschooled cousins. She knew that she would much rather confront a bear in the wild than any Emma or Jenny in the classroom.

Still, Epona was excited to run the clock out on seventh grade and fly across the country with Molly for a month’s stay with her cousins at Kronos House, the home of their grandparents Nikomedes and Cosima Kronos in Manteo, North Carolina. It was not just a family visit; Epona and her cousins were also apprenticing for their grandfather at his antiques restoration shop, the Nick of Time Emporium.

Nikomedes was especially sympathetic about Epona’s supernova seventh-grade year. "They called me Nick-of-MEATYS, and I regularly found raw meat ‘offerings’ at my seat."

Aster and Felspar shot each other the so-glad-we’re-homeschooled look.

And I am so sorry you went through that, Epona, continued Nikomedes, pushing the button for the new Kronos House elevator that ran from the second-floor kitchen down to the Nick of Time.

Thanks, Gramp. I’m just glad that seventh grade is history. She noticed the elevator’s maple wall panels and elaborate nine-bulb chandelier. Rather fancy, don’t you think?

Yes, he replied. It has to be just right for the Nick of Time. As the doors opened, Epona agreed with her grandfather that the elevator worked well with the look and feel of the shop.

Onward, commanded Nikomedes, winding through a series of rooms overflowing with objects like a mirrored walnut wardrobe, oversize banyan tree painting, and a life-size bronze statue of a fully tacked-up horse.

Epona stopped at the horse, rubbed his muzzle, then gently tapped his bronze saddle, causing an echo.

Come on, children, there will be plenty of time for that later, he urged, opening an arched door. Welcome to the workshop, where the magic happens. I believe you’ll find everything you need here.

Felspar surveyed an enormous cabinet loaded with tubes of paint, brushes, and paper. It’s even better than my favorite art supply store in Anchorage. Every time Mom and Dad pick up a new scientist, I get fresh art supplies. Having a prominent geologist and famous botanist for parents, he always had lots of new art supplies.

And I get new languages, said Aster, standing in front of an adjacent floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. She made it her personal mission to speak with the visiting scientists exclusively in their native languages. As a result, she was already fluent in Spanish, French, and German and conversant in Korean, Russian, and Norwegian. I’ve counted thirty-three different languages, and that’s before the top shelf, she said. Squee! You even have Old Norse!

Gramp! Please come here! Epona stood at a cabinet at the far end of the room. Inside were nine shelves, each containing a damaged model horse. Epona went to great lengths to restore and protect the model horses she rescued from secondhand shops back home. The sight of so many injuries felt like a gut punch.

You’ve just found the horse hospital, which is exactly where I would like you to start your apprenticeship, he explained, eyes twinkling. Please choose your first project.

A shiver rippled through her as she observed deep gouges in the shoulders of an otherwise magnificent silver stallion. He’s the one, she replied. I have to help him now. Epona placed the horse onto her worktable and gathered supplies: three grits of sandpaper, epoxy, paint, and several paintbrushes.

What’s all this, Gramp? Aster asked from the other end of the workshop. She and Felspar stood at a counter upon which laid nine large stone tablets.

Working his way across the room, Nikomedes joined the twins. Aha! You’ve found the sandstone tablets. Regrettably, they were damaged in transit, but I believe they contain both art and words from ancient times. I would like Felspar to focus on restoring the art, while Aster restores the words.

I think I might see a horse, said Felspar. He took a lump of Alaskan charcoal from his pocket and grabbed a large sheet of heavy paper from the cabinet. Positioning the paper over the tablet, he rubbed the charcoal from top to bottom. There was a figure of a horse rearing up on two legs, a central design like a wheel with eight spokes, and a series of curious symbols carved with straight lines.

Those are Norse runes, said Aster. I love runes! Thank you, Gramp.

Nikomedes glowed with pride. I see the tablets are in the right hands.

Simultaneously, the twins lunged for the design at the center of the tablet. I’ll be restoring that, said Felspar.

Thank you not so very much; that’s clearly for me, said Aster. Can’t you see it’s some form of runic writing?

No. I see a very interesting design. The imagery is mine, said Felspar, crossing his arms over his puffed-out chest.

I spoke too soon, said Nikomedes, moving between the twins. Have you considered that you may both be right? In the spirit of cooperation, I would like you to travel together across the park to retrieve a special book from my old friend Professor Crow. This image appears in the book, which may help you both in your task at hand. He wrote an address and the words Crow’s Nest on a slip of paper and handed it to Aster. Look for the white row house with lots of baskets hanging outside. Crow’s Nest is at the top.

Nikomedes walked with the twins to the workshop door. Please come up for dinner around six o’clock, Epona. I’ll be upstairs with Cosima and Molly for the rest of the afternoon.

Epona grinned. She had three hours until dinner, just the right amount of time to fully restore the silver stallion. And Nikomedes was so pleased by her work that he set a place for the model horse at the table. They had plenty of room because the twins were dining with Professor Crow. When the time came for Epona to head upstairs for bed, the twins were still not back.

Not to worry, said Nikomedes. Professor Crow called earlier and said not to wait up.

Epona snuggled Molly until the cat claimed her preferred sleeping spot at the foot of the bed. She read her favorite issue of World of Horse magazine to pass the time waiting up for the twins and looked forward to showing them the fully restored model horse. She had placed him on the dresser on top of some soft woven fabric a safe distance away from Aster’s potentially scratchy hairbrush.

An unexpected neigh interrupted Epona’s third cover-to-cover reading.

She heard another horse call, louder this time. The clock on the dresser read midnight. And the model horse was gone. Epona pulled back the curtain. A silver stallion, thick mane and tail blowing in the wind, looked up at her and whickered a greeting, much like her horse friends at the Sagebrush Stables. She replied with a whinny, quickly dressed, then bolted down the wooden staircase and out a side door.

2

Kairos at Flying Pace

Epona approached the stallion and held out her hands.

He sniffed, wuffled, and cleared his throat. If you can understand me, please tell me your name.

I’m Epona Enif Messier Gale, she answered. It felt good to speak all nine syllables aloud. What’s yours?

My true name is unpronounceable in your language. He paused. But you may call me Kairos.

Are you okay, Kairos? she asked.

He snorted and tossed his mane. It’s like this. I come from beyond the stars. My home is being torn apart. Our only hope is a special rider, and something drew me here to you tonight. Will you help me? he asked.

Of course, she said. I feel like I already know you. Today, I started an apprenticeship in my grandfather’s workshop. For my first assignment, I restored a model horse that looks a lot like you, but he had terrible gouges in his shoulders.

Kairos stiffened, and she rubbed his muzzle.

Don’t worry—I sanded and filled them with epoxy, then touched up his paint. I rescue and restore lots of horse models from secondhand shops back at home. But I ride real horses whenever I have the chance, and my dream is to have real horses on my own rescue farm someday.

Kairos whickered, bent his front legs, and fixed his brown-eyed gaze on Epona. You are a friend of horses, true to your name. Please climb on and hold tight to my mane, especially as I go faster. To reach my home, we must travel through all five of my gaits. Have you ever ridden at flying pace before?

No, she answered, settling onto Kairos’s back. But I’ve read about flying pace in my horse books, and it sounds amazing. Even more awesome is riding without a bridle or saddle. I’ve been waiting all year to try that. She found a comfortable handhold at the base of his mane. Ready, she said.

Kairos walked at a relaxed pace to the front of Kronos House. I’ll trot now, he said, increasing his speed across the street and into downtown Manteo’s waterfront park. Epona felt herself moving up and down in sync with Kairos’s hoofbeats. His warm mane felt good in her hands, and she sat the trot comfortably for about ninety seconds. Then it was supremely uncomfortable.

I know, Kairos said, reading her thoughts, "but you’ll really like my next gait. It’s called a tölt." He shifted into a soft and smooth four-beat gait.

That’s so much better, she smiled, comfortable again.

Thanks, Epona, he answered, very proud of his tölt. Now get ready for the canter and flying pace, hold tight, and keep your seat until we get to the other side.

Kairos cantered toward the Roanoke Marshes Lighthouse. He achieved flying pace about nine feet from the front of the lighthouse, with just two of his legs touching the ground.

Epona squeezed her eyes shut and held tight. She felt a warm, buzzing sensation, then opened her eyes. Kairos’s legs now touched a bridge of stars that stretched for miles into the sky. He moved so fast at flying pace that they neared the end of the star bridge in just three minutes.

Now, Kairos warned. Light flashed all around them. Moments later, they emerged in a meadow strewn with wildflowers. A forest stood at the edge of the clearing.

Help! someone cried from within the forest. Please help now!

Epona rode Kairos toward the sound of the cry for help. Before long, they came to a tall tree bordered on the west by several boulders.

Up here, came the voice. A boy hung upside down, his right ankle caught in a snare. They’ll be back any minute. Please get me down now, he implored.

Epona assessed the boy’s predicament, guiding Kairos underneath him.