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Where Are All the Butterflies?
Where Are All the Butterflies?
Where Are All the Butterflies?
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Where Are All the Butterflies?

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Fate brings together five animals and a bird. Khaleed and Misty, Arabian horses, Max a Springer Spaniel, Napoleon a large black cat, Anastasia a slender, fallow deer and Zero a Golden Eagle. Together, in a strange and ever changing world they travel far across challenging terrain and beautiful landscapes. The challenges they face on their journey bring them together and they become firm friends. They meet beasts of the air and of the earth in a land which is supposed to be safe and nurturing. However, they learn that their new world is interlinked with the human world and in the human world, human kind have become distant from their connection with animals and their lives and actions are having a direct affect on the land in which the friends now find themselves.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 26, 2022
ISBN9781665596527
Where Are All the Butterflies?
Author

Maggie Julien

Maggie was born in Royal Leamington Spa, Warwickshire. Her child hood was not easy as her mother suffered with long term mental health issues and was often in hospital. Maggie’s escape was horse riding and the countryside, but she also loved to read. As a child her favourite books were by Enid Blyton as well as fictional books based around horses, for example, The Silver Brumby and Black Beauty. Maggie’s passion is horses and all things equine, owning several horses over many years, but her beautiful Arabian horse was the most influential. They had a unique bond and ease of communication built entirely on love and trust, this horse was her inspiration to write. University was not an option for Maggie and therefore she started working life as a florist from the age of 17 years, then changing career to become a Legal Secretary and eventually a Coroner’s Clerk. Growing up, Maggie’s pipe dream was to own a small holding and through hard work and determination, this dream came true in 2017 when she settled with her partner, Huw on a 5 acre small holding surrounded by the beautiful Pembrokeshire countryside. Huw and Maggie married in April 2018.

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    Where Are All the Butterflies? - Maggie Julien

    © 2022 Maggie Julien. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

    transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse  06/24/2022

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-9651-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-9652-7 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

    this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

    expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

    views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Illustrations by: Colleen Callistre

    Contents

    Chapter 1     Misty

    Chapter 2     Khaleed

    Chapter 3     Carol

    Chapter 4     Meg

    Chapter 5     Sad News

    Chapter 6     The Higher Plane

    Chapter 7     Anastasia and Napoleon

    Chapter 8     Arion

    Chapter 9     Zero and Max

    Chapter 10   The Explanation

    Chapter 11   Towards the Mountains

    Chapter 12   The Mountains

    Chapter 13   Into the Cold

    Chapter 14   Great Friends

    Chapter 15   Meg’s Holiday

    Chapter 16   Meeting the Family

    Chapter 17   Meeting the Horses

    Chapter 18   Mat and Tony

    Chapter 19   Good Advice

    Chapter 20   Mat’s Return

    Chapter 21   The Calling

    Chapter 22   Where’s Max?

    Chapter 23   The White River

    Chapter 24   White River Crossing

    Chapter 25   Domain of the Sapphire Pool

    Chapter 26   The Mist

    Chapter 27   Penny

    Chapter 28   The Riding School

    Chapter 29   The Fun Ride

    Chapter 30   A Close Call

    Chapter 31   A Small Win

    Chapter 32   Transport to the Sea

    Chapter 33   Meg and Mat

    Chapter 34   The Beach

    Chapter 35   The Sapphire Pool

    Chapter 36   Decisions, Decisions

    Chapter 37   Visions

    Chapter 38   Back to the Grasslands

    Chapter 39   Daisy’s Legacy

    Chapter 40   New Beginnings

    About the Author

    In loving memory of my mother, who deserved a much happier and longer life. Her gentle, caring nature and incredible ability to forgive was an inspiration.

    In memory of the many animals in my life who taught me to be patient and respect all creatures—in particular, my beautiful Arabian horse, whose strength, beauty, and intelligence will always be remembered.

    To the readers. I do not know if you will enjoy this book, but I hope that you do. The fact that you picked it up is very much appreciated. Thank you.

    CHAPTER

    1

    Misty

    Misty was a pure-blooded Arabian horse who, having been born with a black coat, had grown pale over the years and now had a beautiful white coat with light dapples over her rump. Her long, silky mane was beautifully fine, and her forelock had grown so much that it reached the end of her muzzle. Her white tail reached the floor, but she always carried it high through her paces. Despite her age, she still had an elegant, almost regal look when she moved.

    But at twenty-eight years old, she now had a swayback making her withers high, and the hollows above her large, dark eyes showed her age, though her years were disguised by a coat that still shone.

    More recently, she had started feeling very weary. Her old joints were sore, and her muscles ached. She gave out a soft snort as she stood in her stable gazing out over the yard, which had fallen quiet after the hustle and bustle of morning duties. The weather had turned cold, and a heavy snow the previous night had left a deep layer of white, which had now turned a dirty, slushy brown after everyone had trudged through with their muddy boots and wheelbarrows. Earlier that morning, before the people had arrived, the snow had been a bright, crisp white that shone as the early sun rose to reveal a beautifully red sky.

    The busy mornings on the yard entertained Misty. Her ears would flick back and forth as she watched the people rushing about. They would trundle off to the left with full wheelbarrows of old bedding and return with the wheelbarrow full of fresh straw. Then off they would go again, carrying buckets and hay nets. Back and forth they would trudge until all the horses on the yard had been fed and had fresh water and clean beds. Once the people left, the yard would become still and quiet again, except for the sound of the fat sparrows chirping away to each other as they industriously picked out seeds from their year-round supply of straw and hay.

    Meg, Misty’s owner, had been to see her already that morning, as she did twice a day, every day. Meg had cleaned the stable and put down a fresh, luxuriously deep straw bed. She had filled the hay net full of clean hay and placed full buckets of water in the corner of the stable. Misty had listened to Meg chatting away to her the whole time she was there, and Meg had given her a gentle, reassuring pat every now and again. Misty had been thoroughly groomed by Meg, who had also exchanged her rug for a warmer one. The wind had picked up and was adding a further chill to the already frigid air, which could easily have penetrated her old bones. She appreciated the extra warmth of her rug.

    Misty began to doze, and whilst she relaxed, she began to reminisce. Over the years, Misty thought, she had stayed on different yards, but one thing had always been consistent: Meg had always been there, taking care of her. She’d never understood why they had moved from one yard to another. Sometimes they would stay on the same yard for several years, while other times they would stay for just a few weeks. Her memories took her back to when she was much younger. At first, she had found new yards quite alarming and would feel unsettled and nervous. But as the years went by, new yards had become interesting to her and had provided her with ways of making new friends. A new yard also meant going out for rides along new tracks and around different fields, with the scenery changing from hills and fields to woodland or from busy roads to quiet ones. It had made her life more interesting. As time had progressed, she had also come to realise that Meg would be there for her no matter what, and this had helped Misty’s confidence to grow. She trusted and relied on Meg, and she was certain that Meg felt the same. They looked out for each other.

    The yard she was on now was large, with twenty to thirty horses. They were all kept in separate paddocks when they were out grazing, but she found it reassuring that they could see and talk to each other over the fences. Their natural herd instincts meant that they needed the company of other horses, and some of them would fret terribly when they found themselves alone. She had been on this yard for some years now but still did not know all the horses, as there were only a few that had been there as long as she had. Other horses would come and go, and she would only see them briefly and never have any real contact with them.

    When Meg had said goodbye to Misty before she’d left the yard that morning, she had spent a little longer than usual gently stroking her head. Misty thought about how it had left her feeling secure and happy, despite her aches and pains. She was sure Meg knew that she was not feeling herself. In fact, this morning, she had felt that she did not want Meg to leave. She’d whinnied quietly and pushed her nose under Meg’s chin in an attempt to explain, but Meg had simply given her another hug and stroked her nose a little longer before finally leaving. She always did this, but this time, Misty had a funny feeling. This time, something was different. She just did not feel quite right.

    She was grateful for the extra rugs and the warm, dry stable. All the horses had been kept inside today. By now, her paddock would have a layer of snow too deep for her to reach any grass to nibble at, but she had no motivation to go outside anyway, and unusually, she was not hungry. She pushed at her hay net but made no attempt to take the hay.

    She had the company of her stable friends either side of her, Sunny to her right and Autumn to her left. She could not see their heads over their stable doors but could hear the steady crunching as they pulled hay from hay nets and chewed noisily.

    Sunny was a big horse, a dark bay, seventeen hands and eight years old. His owner looked after him well. His coat shone, and he looked impressive, as he was well muscled with a strong shoulder and strong neck. His mane had been well groomed and kept short. He had an impatient personality and a short concentration span. He enjoyed his work and resented being shut inside his stable for prolonged periods. When he was, he usually protested loudly by kicking his stable door. There were times, Misty remembered, when she had watched Sunny as he was being ridden in the manège, which was situated right opposite her stable. His owner was a good rider; she did not pull too hard on his mouth and sat well in the saddle. Misty thought of how lucky Sunny was to have such a kind owner. She was not convinced, however, that Sunny realised how lucky he was, as he would occasionally unseat his owner with some impressive bucking.

    Autumn was a skewbald mare, fourteen hands, with a small head and small ears. She was a cob type with thick feathers on her legs and a full mane and tail. Her mane would sometimes stick up around her ears, making her look dishevelled. Her owner would spend hours trying to tame it with various products and sometimes plaiting, but it would always revert to its wild and undisciplined look. Autumn had a sweet nature; she was unassuming and quiet, and you would never hear her kicking her stable door. Unlike Misty, Autumn had not had such a fortunate start in life. She had told Misty that she’d born in a herd owned by travelling folk. Her mother would be tethered to a stake by the side of a road, and they would also walk for miles from one place to another during the day, sometimes along busy roads, where cars and huge lorries would whiz past noisily.

    Autumn had told Misty of one occasion when she was foal when she had been at a large event with hundreds of other horses and ponies, some in better condition than others. She had told Misty of the smells and the noise of the people who milled around them, checking them over, forcing open their mouths to look at their teeth and slapping them hard on their rumps to make them trot. Autumn had been tethered behind a horse-drawn caravan, which had started to move at some speed. Being so young, she’d not had the strength or stamina to keep up, so she had lost her balance and fallen. The caravan had failed to stop, and she had been dragged along on her side. She had been terrified. Fortunately, a kind Traveller who had seen what had happened had persuaded the driver of the caravan to stop so that he could release her from the tether and help her to her feet. She had been lucky not to be too badly hurt, but she would never forget what had happened. Now it took her a long time to trust. She had been purchased by the Traveller who had rescued her, and he had cared for her for many years until she’d been sold to the human she was with now. She was at last content, because she had been with this owner for a long time too and had finally learned to trust. But in the back of her mind, she would always wonder if her owner would change again. Misty admired Autumn’s strength and hoped that she would be with her current owner until the end of her days.

    Misty shifted her weight from one back leg to the other to ease the pain in her back, and as she did so, she became distracted by a large black cat silently padding towards her stable. Had he not been so big, he would have looked comical lifting his paws and shaking them as he tried to progress through the deep snow. Misty was more bemused than amused at his appearance. He stood and stared at her, blinking his huge green eyes. Misty stared back. She had never seen this cat on the yard before. He was not one of the regular yard cats. He held her stare for a moment, and then as if he were just a mirage, he was gone. Misty blinked and shook her head. Had she just imagined that? Yes, she thought, I must have done. After all, there are no footprints left in the snow. Gathering herself, she quickly turned her thoughts to Meg.

    Misty had only been two years old when Meg had taken her from her first home. She remembered her protests as she’d been gently but firmly persuaded to follow another horse up a ramp onto a large lorry, which had the lingering smell of previous occupants. Then there was the experience of the rocking, rattling, and bumping of the lorry as they had travelled for what seemed like an age. Eventually, the lorry had come to a jolting halt, and she had been relieved to walk back down the ramp to find herself out in the fresh air, albeit in a strange place. There had been smells new to her nostrils and sounds she did not recognise. She had felt anxious and frightened without the familiar surroundings of home. It had been Meg’s reassuring voice and her gentle way that had helped Misty adapt to what was going to become her new life. Misty remembered Meg’s patience, her quiet, clear instruction. She had appeared to understand the fear and nervousness in Misty and had gently helped her to overcome it.

    Misty glanced around briefly. There was still no sign of that cat. She must have imagined it. Her head nodded lower, and her ears flopped to the side as she drifted into a doze and gave out a soft snort. She now appreciated how fortunate she was having had the same kind owner for most of her life. She loved Meg very much. She had always been well fed with good quality hay and feed. Meg groomed her every day, and her teeth and hooves were checked regularly. In the winter, she was warm with thick rugs, and in the summer, she was protected from the hot sun and flies. She concluded that the length of her life was down to the fact that Meg had looked after her so well.

    In her youth, Misty remembered, she had enjoyed some fun times with Meg, from long, fast, reckless, gallops across fields to cross-country courses, where their bravery had been tested to their limits, as they’d had to carefully calculate turns and distances.

    It had taken many years for Misty and Meg to understand each other, and there had been countless mistakes and misunderstandings along the way, particularly when Misty had been a youngster. She had been very frisky and extremely feisty then. She loved to gallop, and when she had felt Meg was holding her back, she had sometimes let off steam by doing huge, athletic bucks. She hadn’t been able to help herself; it was a great feeling. It was Meg’s determination and years of patience that had helped them become a true partnership.

    When they rode out, Misty did always try hard to look after Meg, and now that she thought about it, she could only remember Meg falling off her back a couple of times. The first time had been when she had just been broken in and had not yet understood what carrying someone on her back was about. As she was so young, her spirits had been high, and she’d had a lot of energy. And this had been a whole new experience for her. They had been working in the manège. Meg had been trying to teach her to carry a rider and to turn circles whilst staying balanced, which at the time, Misty had found difficult. Unfortunately, as with most youngsters, she had been easily distracted. On this one occasion, she had thought she’d seen something move suddenly out of the corner of her eye, and that had been the only excuse she’d needed. She’d leapt about two feet in the air and spun around 180 degrees at the same time, coming to an abrupt stop facing the opposite side of the manège. Poor Meg had not stood a chance and had gone airborne, flying through the air and landing with a thump on her bottom. Misty had stared at her sitting on the floor and given out a snort and a cheeky whinny, as she’d found the sight very amusing.

    The second time that Meg had fallen was when they had been show jumping. Misty had misjudged the distance to an upright. She had gotten too close to it and, in a last-ditch attempt to get over, had made a huge, almost vertical leap, reaching as high as she could. Poor Meg had become unbalanced and had fallen off, demolishing the jump on her way to the floor.

    Misty had decided early on that she preferred the competitions when she did not have to jump. Thinking back, she now understood that the many years of practice had been the key to their success, and the fond memories she now had were of the pair of them gracefully dancing around arenas, changing from one pace to another with ease and grace. She had sometimes felt like she could fly. Meg rode her well. She sat quietly and had a firm but gentle contact on her mouth, and her instructions were always clear. These were indeed very fond memories.

    Misty yawned. She felt all in, shifting her weight back to the other hind leg again, trying to ease the aches. She continued to think with affection about her past experiences and the horses she had met.

    Having stayed on different yards, she had met many horses and ponies of all sizes, colours, and temperaments. Some she had made friends with easily, but others had been aggressive and angry. She’d quickly learned to avoid those and had done her best to keep her distance from them. She had learned that lesson early on when one horse had landed a skilful kick to her flank. She remembered it well, as it had been extremely painful, particularly as the horse that had kicked her had been shod. Meg had been unable to get on her back until the cuts and bruises had healed, which had taken several weeks.

    The horses that she had befriended had told her of their lives, their owners, and their experiences, both good and bad. Unlike Sunny and herself, most had been passed from one owner to another. There were owners who were short tempered and cruel and beat their horses, but there were others who just did not know what they were doing or how to communicate with a horse. Their ignorance always proved detrimental to the poor horses that they owned. They would have saddles that did not fit properly and bruised their horses’ backs or bits for their horses’ mouths that were too harsh and would make their mouths sore. The horses could not speak to their owners, so they reacted the only way they could, trying to avoid the pain. They would toss their heads, buck, and try to escape by galloping off. Some humans did not seem to understand this, and the communication between them would break down further until they ended up being passed on to yet another owner only to find the same things happening all over again. Misty felt sorry for those poor horses. Their stories upset her. She shook her head and snorted to put those gloomy thoughts out of her mind.

    The sudden bang of Sunny kicking his stable door woke her from her daydreams. She guessed he must have finished his hay and was wishing he were out in his paddock. Awakened from her doze and leaving her world of memories behind, Misty was rudely reminded of her aches and pains. She felt very, very tired, and an overwhelming urge to sleep came over her. No longer able or even wanting to fight this fatigue, she slowly moved into the deep straw, her joints stiff, and managed to ease herself down, letting out a relaxing snort as she did so. She felt safe and warm and stretched herself out on her side until she felt more comfortable.

    Her memories were left behind now, and the bang, bang of Sunny kicking his door became muffled and distant. She blinked repeatedly as her eyes became heavy with sleep, but just before sleep took her, she noticed the big black cat sitting on the top of the stable door, and just past him, she thought she saw an unusually large bird hovering majestic and silent overhead. Was she hallucinating again? Unable to fight any more, her eyes closed for the last time, and she drifted off into a deep sleep. Her pain subsided, her breathing slowed, and peaceful silence enveloped her.

    CHAPTER

    2

    Khaleed

    Misty did not know how long she had slept. It felt like she had only just closed her eyes, but the soft warmth of breath on her nostrils startled her awake. Flicking open her eyes and lifting her head, she saw a beautiful white horse looking down at her. The horse had large, dark eyes with long white lashes. She sensed he had tremendous strength and power, yet there was a gentleness about him too.

    Hello, Misty, he said. His voice was soft and deep but had an air of authority. My name is Khaleed, and you have to come with me now.

    She blinked and pulled herself up to her feet as quickly as she could. She still ached but noticed that the pain was subsiding, and she surprised herself at how quickly she had gotten to her feet. Snorting, she backed herself into the corner of her stable and stood very still, watching Khaleed. She laid her ears back against her head and curled her top lip. She was not to be messed with and would defend herself if necessary.

    She could see the white horse properly now, as the pale sunlight shone though the stable door. He was truly magnificent. His coat was so white that it almost glowed like silver. His mane was incredibly long and looked like fine silk. He held his tail high. It too was long and fine, and it almost reached the ground. She could see he was lean with well-defined muscles. He looked strong, and she guessed he could gallop fast. She felt frightened and confused and did not know what to do or say.

    Do not be afraid, Khaleed said again in a gentle, quiet voice. He flicked his ears forward and lowered his head slightly to show he meant her no harm. I am here to protect and guide you. Please follow me.

    He turned around, reached over, skilfully pulled the latch on the stable door back, and then pushed the door open. He walked outside into the snow, which had started to fall again. Large, round powder puffs of snow landed gently and silently, disappearing into the new carpet of whiteness that had already spread out in front of them, covering over the muddy yard.

    Instinctively, Misty’s ears flicked back and forth—being nervous made her fidget—and still feeling confused, she hesitated. This was indeed an extraordinary thing that was happening to her. She wondered where Meg was, as she did not want to leave without her.

    Khaleed turned around to face her again.

    Do not be afraid, he repeated in his deep, gentle voice. Please, you must come with me. I am the way forward for you now. His voice was coaxing, and he was speaking with more urgency. We have little time; you must come quickly.

    He turned to lead the way.

    Sunny and Autumn were fidgeting nervously in their stables on either side of her. She knew that they must sense something was amiss, and she could hear them stamping around, turning circles in their stables, snorting, and pawing the ground.

    Khaleed was moving further away from her. His coat was so white that he made the new snow look dull. Suddenly, an overwhelming fear gripped her, and she realised she had to follow him. The stable, which had been safe, familiar, and secure, now felt foreign and unnerving. Something was quite different. Without any further hesitation, she leapt forward out through the stable door. As she landed, her front feet slid forward, skidding along the top of the snow, and she nearly lost her balance.

    Wait, she whinnied. Wait!

    She broke into a canter to catch up with Khaleed, who was now halfway down the track leading to the open fields, but he did not slow down. In fact, he sped up. She sensed the urgency now and knew she had to catch up with him, but her earlier assumption had been right—he was fast.

    She was almost at a gallop, trying desperately to catch up with Khaleed, who was gracefully cantering over the snow with long strides. He skimmed over the ground with ease, his tail flowing out behind him. The snow was falling faster now, bigger flakes that landed on Misty’s eyelashes and blurred her vision. Khaleed’s white coat was like camouflage. He blended into his surroundings, and she found it increasingly difficult to see him. He did not go completely out of her sight, but he did keep up a fast pace so that she would not give up but instead strive to catch up with him.

    Then she noticed something very odd indeed. Khaleed had left no hoof-prints in the snow, and her own hooves were not making tracks either. Instead, she seemed to be delicately cantering along the top of the snow. It was as if she were floating as light as a feather. She became very aware of her body. It felt funny, different. Lighter and less dense. It was strange but, at the same time, rather exhilarating. She wanted to stop and look around to become used to this new sensation, but with no hoof-prints to follow, she knew she had to keep a close eye on Khaleed. Otherwise, she would be left behind.

    Khaleed did not look back at her. He knew she was close behind, and he had made it clear that there was no time to lose. He kept a pace that he knew she could keep but that would ensure they made it to the gateway. He was watching with his ears pricked forward, waiting for it to appear. It would be any second now; of that, he was sure.

    He was pleased and relieved that Misty had trusted him. It was always a tricky time when he introduced himself, and he could never predict the outcome of the first meeting. The urgency now was to get to the gateway. He would worry about explaining things to Misty when they were safe. Where was it? It must be there somewhere. The snow was hindering the search; it was much easier when the weather was clear. In fact, Khaleed thought, it was unusual for the gateway to be obscured at all. This was indeed disturbing, but no matter. He had to keep going. He did not want Misty to become troubled or lose the limited faith she had placed in him. That would be disastrous for her. Finally, he saw a faint, green haze to his right, and thankfully, the snow started to ease. They were going to make it.

    Misty was close behind Khaleed now, her nostrils flared from how hard she was panting. She was not as fit as she’d used to be. She had no idea where Khaleed was leading, but she had a strong feeling that she should trust him and that following him was the true thing for her to do.

    The snow had started to ease, and she was thankful, as she could see more clearly now. Khaleed took an unexpected, sharp right turn. She managed to make the turn herself without too much difficulty. as she was feeling more confident now and had noticed that her aches and pains were leaving her.

    Out in front of them, a faint, green glow had appeared. It grew stronger and

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