

Wings Over Tremeirchson

By

Smashwords version

Copyright 2013 Linda Ulleseit

Also by Linda Ulleseit:

On a Wing and a Dare

In the Winds of Danger

Under a Wild and Darkening Sky

Under the Almond Trees

License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Aerial Dance

Chapter 2: Marc's Barn

Chapter 3: Vocation

Chapter 4: Morgan

Chapter 5: Opening

Chapter 6: Racing

Chapter 7: Dance

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Chapter 9: Despair

Chapter 10: Passion

Chapter 11: Decision

About the Author

Chapter 1: Aerial Dance

The early spring air, still chilled by the remnant of winter, rushed past Neste's cheeks and teased her chestnut hair out from under her leather helmet. She took a deep breath, but her hands trembled on the reins. A shiver of tension ran through the muscles of the winged horse beneath her, and Neste murmured, "Easy, Llawen, just like we practiced now. Easy, del," masking her own anxiety as best she could with the Welsh endearment.

The mare was not fooled. She tossed her head and her silver wings missed a beat. Neste clenched her lips and focused on Llawen's gray ears. They swiveled, alert to the other four horses in formation nearby. Hoel, aboard his glossy brown stallion, led with confidence that bordered on recklessness. Neste suspected that some depth of his mind believed only he could master this dance, rendering all others irrelevant and beneath him. Still, he led the team. Of course he wanted them to perform well.

The swish of Llawen's powerful wings added to the breeze, and the usual delight of soaring aboard such a beautiful creature filled Neste's heart. Below them, people locked to the ground scurried about their business to the apothecary or the tanner or the tavern. Nonwinged horses pulled wagons and carriages. Neste wondered if Llawen felt superior to them.

The mare's charcoal-colored mane rippled. The occasional silver strands caught the sunlight and sparkled. The mare's dappled gray neck gleamed with sweat as the most difficult part of the routine came upon them and Neste's pleasure evaporated in concentration.

"Hover like a hummingbird." She muttered Hoel's ridiculous words as she signaled the mare. The great silver wings angled slightly so that the downstrokes would not carry horse and rider forward. Neste patted the damp gray neck. "Best hummingbird in Tremeirchson."

Valiant and well trained, Llawen flew whatever crazy pattern Neste directed. Visualizing the overall effect of the dance from a spectator's viewpoint was difficult while in formation. During the competition, however, the judges would be earthbound. Aerial dances were more than the precision of horse wings and body placement, more than just flying from one spot to another. The team had to work together to create a vision of effortless grace and beauty. Done correctly, the dance would evoke gasps from the spectators over the incongruity of winged horses that seemed to float like wisps of cloud.

The Aerial Games annually pitted Tremeirchson's nine barns against each other. Neste knew Hoel desired to make this aerial dance perfect, a winner for his father's barn. That meant beating Morgan, something Hoel's father had been unable to do against Morgan's father. Hoel had made it plain he was determined to succeed.

Sweeping patterns opened the new dance, basic moves intended to show off wingspan. The five horses' circles overlapped so flight speed needed to be monitored to avoid crashes. That was easy, a matter of timing. The next set of movements, though, twisted Neste's stomach in knots. She simply didn't agree that her unswerving belief in Llawen's ability to hover would make it happen. Horses weren't meant to hover.

On Neste's right, a bay horse with black wings rose to a position slightly above them. A sorrel on their left matched the movement. That left Hoel and Adam to top the formation. Neste winced as she struggled to hold Llawen in position and watch the horses above her at the same time. Hoel's brown stallion slipped into place effortlessly, but Adam struggled as Adam always did. His brown mare seemed confused, and Neste shook her head. Even if Adam signaled incorrectly, surely his horse knew what to do by now. Neste fastened her eyes on the awkward mare, willing Adam to hurry before Hoel exploded or Llawen's wing strength gave out.

Hoel's stallion gleamed with good health. In contrast, Adam's wiry mare looked more like a reject from a gypsy caravan. Her brown coat bristled with dull tufts. Neste wondered if the horse's diet lacked some essential ingredient.

But thirty feet above the ground was not the time to be concerned with another rider's horse. Llawen's wingstroke faltered then resumed. Neste patted her neck and murmured soft words intended to calm them both. Above them, two pairs of horses finally formed the vertical V. They flew completely out of rhythm, but they finished it. The bay mare on their right positioned herself such that Llawen's wings would have tickled her tummy had they been directly above. The sorrel flew a bit low on the left, but just as Neste frowned, the rider corrected the height.

Hold. Synchronize wingstrokes. Neste held her breath, as if that would help the five horses hover. Finally, she dropped away from the formation and swept into a wide turn that climbed in altitude. She felt the tremor in Llawen's tired shoulders, but the whoosh of air once they resumed motion matched the release of Neste's breath. They'd executed their part well. It hadn't gone perfectly, so Hoel would no doubt be angry, but this time he would not direct it at them. Unfortunately, that meant Hoel's anger would land on Adam, as it did too often. Neste shifted uneasily in her saddle. She had no time to waste on guilt or sympathy. She had a routine to fly. There was still time to make a mistake. Ridiculous to do so on the easy section.

Neste turned the mare into a wide circle around the point where they had formed the V, just above the town. The other four in the aerial team mimicked the movement. Gradually they would narrow the circle until they flew tightly, nose to tail.

The pattern took them out over the edge of the cliff where the ground dropped away hundreds of feet. Tremeirchson perched on a huge mountain ledge between red cliffs and a sheer drop into the valley. Farmland stretched along the ledge, and a dirt road wound out of sight down the hill. It snaked through the Welsh province of Gwynned to Merioneth on the edge of Cardigan Bay. In that far off place lived the patrons who supported Tremeirchson's barns. Merioneth held spectators, too, who traveled up the mountain to root for their favorite barns each year as they competed in the Aerial Games.

Neste and Llawen approached the town again, drawing closer to Adam and his mare. He rode with a stiff back, and from the angle of the horse's head Neste could see how tightly Adam clutched the reins. Hoel said that a tanner's son had no business riding a winged horse, but his father, the barn leader, had selected Adam. Two years ago, when they'd been sixteen, she and Adam had been paired with their horses in the same Rider Ceremony. She'd felt sympathetic toward him since then.

The circle tightened, and Adam's mare tossed her tail. Llawen snorted at the brown hairs tickling her nose, but didn't move her head. Neste patted her sweaty neck and smiled like a proud mama.

Hoel led the group into the landing area by dropping out of the circle and gliding to the ground. As each horse reached that point in the formation, they followed. Neste landed last. After the smooth gliding of flight, Llawen's trot jarred. Neste rose up in her stirrups as the mare folded her wings alongside her body. The five riders directed their mounts toward the barn. Winged horses from Tremeirchson's eight other barns circled above as they either headed out for their own practice or returned.

In the small yard behind Hoel's barn, Neste dismounted with a sigh. Every muscle in her body ached from the tension of the morning's practice. She removed her helmet and unwound the long braid of hair so it fell down her back.

Adam shook out his own blond hair, and his green eyes danced as he smiled warmly at Neste. "Good job!"

She couldn't help but smile back even as she wondered if he really realized how poorly he'd flown.

Hoel took off his helmet and shook his head, brown hair hanging past his ears in sweaty hanks. The gray streaks in his hair reminded her of the silver in Llawen's mane. His tall, wiry frame looked even more imposing as he stalked toward Adam. His dark eyes flashed. "When are you going to figure out how to ride your horse? What were you doing up there?"

It didn't help that Hoel towered over Adam's shorter, stockier frame. He leaned forward, his face in Adam's, giving the impression of a vulture looming over its prey. Neste turned away, embarrassed.

"I tried," Adam said, blond hair falling forward to cover his grin.

"Oh, in Rhiannon's name! You've been trying your whole life! When are you going to accomplish something?"

Neste wasn't sure an invocation to the horse goddess would help Adam's flying or repress his boyish charm.

The grooms hurried out from the barn to take reins from riders. The other riders dispersed, following grooms and horses into the barn without speaking. Neste remained. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she tried to think of a way to intercede on Adam's behalf without making it worse. "Adam did better today," she said.

Hoel turned. The anger melted out of his face like butter over a biscuit. When he spoke, his tone caressed her, his betrothed. "This is not some wild creature caught in a snare that you can rescue, cariad. Adam is a man. He really needs to take responsibility for his role on this team."

She slipped her arm halfway around his waist, hoping to preserve the softer side as long as she could. "Under your leadership, how could he fail?" Her eyes slipped past Hoel and caught Adam's. She tipped her head slightly toward the barn and Adam made his escape. "So can I ask you about that hovering section? What angle do you want the vee shape to be?"

Hoel brought a hand up to Neste's cheek and stroked it softly. "I don't know why I allow you to distract me," he said, "but I can't refuse you anything when you look at me with those big brown eyes. I'll try harder with that incompetent tanner's son."

"You will be a wonderful barn leader someday, Hoel," she said, smiling up at him.

"I only want the barn to succeed. This is Morgan's first Aerial Games as barn leader. Now is the time to beat him."

"His father left a powerful team in place." Neste shook her head. She doubted it would be as easy as Hoel envisioned.

"Are you saying I'm wrong?"

"Of course not." She smiled and placed a hand on his chest. "We also have a very strong team."

"Iawn, we'll do well," he agreed. Hoel took her hand, kissed it, and turned to go. "If that idiot Adam can learn his part, that is," he tossed over his shoulder.

Neste watched him walk toward the barn with confidence. He waved at riders and ignored grooms. Most waved back. He was the leader's son, destined to be barn leader himself. She was destined to be his wife. Both of them must grow into their roles.

With a sigh, she walked away from the barn. Just across the dirt yard where riders landed after flight, a dusty lane led into a cluster of small houses occupied by riders and their families. Small fences enclosed gardens full of vegetables and herbs. Chickens pecked along the verge. Neste reached to unlatch a gate, and the latch came away in her hand. She bent over and picked through the weeds that choked the gate post, looking for the errant screw that was supposed to hold the latch in place.

She gave up and walked to the front door, its solid wooden surface weathered gray. Everything needed attention. The garden must be weeded, the house painted, the roof repaired...useless to keep a list. Neste and her mother couldn't do the heavier work, and her sister couldn't do it all. That had always been her father's job, and no one could ever replace him. Her brothers didn't even try.

Inside, a threadbare rug lay on a well swept wooden floor, and a small fire was lit in the hearth. A massive oak table dominated the room, with six straight-backed chairs around it. Near the fire, her father's large carved chair sat empty where it had been the full eighteen years of Neste's life. Her mother's smaller chair faced it, also empty. Cheerful humming came from the kitchen. Her sister kept the place clean, cooked, and watered the flowers. Neste felt guilty that their mother's care fell to the oldest instead of to Neste or her three absent brothers. No one would expect her to give up Llawen to care for her mother, but the idea had crossed her mind more than once.

Neste tiptoed through the narrow hallway into the nearest room. Her mother, however, was awake. The drapes were drawn back so she could look out at her garden, where the earliest flowers budded. Crimson draperies swung from the rails above the bed to be tied to the four carved posts. Her mother, propped up by the multitude of pillows arranged behind her, sat with an embroidery hoop on her lap. The needlework kept Mum busy even though her hands could hardly hold the needle these days.

Mum's smile of greeting lit up the cramped space. Her gray hair neatly wound around her head, framing a pale freckled face. Those freckles gave the only evidence of the riotous mass of red that had given Neste the ruddy tinge to her own hair.

"Cariad, croeso. Tell me all," she said, welcoming Neste by patting a spot on the bed.

Neste crossed to the bed and leaned against a bedpost. "Is the pain better today, Mum?"

The blue eyes darkened. "It's always there." She rubbed her leg with a gnarled hand.

Neste had to take the clouds away. "Llawen flew well today. Strong and graceful like you."

Her mother's laughter filled the room. "Silver tongued like your father, Rhiannon watch over him."

Neste relayed every minute of the morning's practice except for the altercation between Hoel and Adam.

"Your Da would've enjoyed watching Llawen fly," Mum said. "He'd be very proud of you, Neste. When he got sick he fretted that he wouldn't live to see you grown and wed. Betrothed was the best he could do."

"I know, Mum. He loved when you flew." She'd been twelve when her father's death shattered her world. The betrothal to Hoel had been his dying wish.

She reached over and kissed her mother on the cheek. "I need to get cleaned up for dinner, then I'll bring in your tray."

"Thank you, cariad."

Her own room, next to her mother's, was the only place Neste didn't have to measure up to someone else's expectations. On the clothes chest, a handful of white flowers nodded over the rim of a pewter tankard. A simple bed without hangings, a straight-backed wooden chair, and a heavy trunk in the corner completed the room's furnishings. An old rug covered the floor. Neste took a deep breath and exhaled all the cares of the day.

She changed into a clean shift and pulled a longer tunic over her head. So much of each day was spent in a divided riding skirt and leather flying helmet that conventional clothing felt odd. The room may be Neste's, but the rest of the house belonged to her sister, who insisted on proper dress. Neste combed out her braid and looped the long chestnut hair around her head. Then she tied a simple coif over her hair and hurried to her supper.

***

After a dismal meal with two silent sisters instead of a raucous family of six, Neste left the house and headed up the lane. She skirted the barn, walking up the dirt lane to the fountain in the middle of town, swinging an unlit lantern as she went. The sun slid behind the cliffs, silhouetting everything in different shades of gray. Dark, featureless barns and houses crouched like the master's dog at the foot of his bed. In the near distance, the town grayed into a soft blur. Above it all the sky still held traces of the day's glow.

Neste reached the cobblestones of the main road that circled the fountain. The nearby shops, shuttered for the night, glowed with lantern light from upstairs rooms where merchants and their families lived. She peered toward the lane leading to the blacksmith shop and hoped her youngest brother was doing well in his apprenticeship.

The fountain consisted of three winged horse statues arranged back to back. Rearing high, their wings sweeping behind them, they represented Rhiannon's three godlings Aer, Alon, and Ystrad. Water poured from the horses' mouths, and a pillar topped with flame rose up between them. It was Neste's favorite place. She sat on the edge of the fountain's basin and peered up the lane next to the one she'd come down.

Elen hurried toward her from the little house behind Morgan's barn that she shared with another rider. She, too, wore proper women's clothing. Her short dark curls peeked from beneath her cap. Breathless, Elen dropped into place next to Neste, handing her a white flower. "Oh, Neste, you'll never guess!" she gasped.

"If it's that exciting, you'd better tell me even before you catch your breath!" Neste took the white flower with a smile. It was more than just a flower, this tradition between them. This one would go into the pewter tankard with the others.

Elen put a hand on her friend's arm and leaned forward. "I'm to fly an aerial pairs dance with Morgan."

Neste laughed. "Of course you are, you ninny! Everyone knows there's magic between the two of you. I predict a long string of victories ahead. Someday I'll be telling my grandchildren I remember a time before Morgan and Elen flew the pairs dance!"

"But I'm so nervous!" wailed Elen.

Neste stopped laughing and took both her friend's hands into hers. "Elen, you love Morgan so much he is sure to notice soon. Pour all that love into the dance, and you'll be unstoppable."

"Diolch, Neste. You always know what to say." Then her face lightened. "Oh! How did your practice go today in the group dance?"

Wrinkling her nose, Neste replied, "Adam did a bit better, but Hoel is losing patience. I think I might try to talk to Adam, see if I can give him some pointers or something."

"That would be your proper place as future wife to the barn leader," Elen teased. "Adam's gorgeous, though. Will Hoel be able to control his jealousy?"

Neste made a face. "I can handle him. Adam needs the help, and Hoel will appreciate it if he improves."

"Just make sure Adam doesn't smile at you too much."

Neste knew what Elen meant. All the girls around the barn swooned over Adam's good looks and brilliant smile. She tried to be indifferent, but he really did have a nice smile. That shouldn't be what she thought about though. Her father's last wish betrothed her to Hoel. She must honor that.

The fountain splashed. The two friends sat in companionable silence. All around them the lanterns in Tremeirchson's windows brightened as the last trickle of daylight disappeared behind the rugged Welsh mountains, turning the massive peak of Yr Wydda purple before drenching it in darkness.

Chapter 2: Marc's Barn

Llawen nosed the pocket of her tunic, and Neste scolded her. "No molasses treats until after practice, you greedy thing." Llawen snorted, clearly in disapproval. The mare well knew Neste and her groom always carried treats in their pockets. She swung up into the saddle just as Hoel rode up next to her, and stopping so close that his leg brushed hers. The stallion shook his head, jangling the bridle, and Llawen snorted again.

Hoel sat tall in the saddle. The premature gray streaks in his short brown hair gave him a distinguished air, and his deep dark eyes attracted her like a flower did to a bee.

"Bore da, milady," he said with a smile.

The Welsh greeting was hardly theirs alone, but he had greeted her this was every morning for the last two years. She returned it automatically. "Bore da, milord."

"Let's take our dinner up the hill today for a break."

"Oh yes, Hoel, let's do that." She nodded eagerly. They rarely had a moment alone.

Llawen rustled her wings and stepped backwards just as Adam stopped directly in front of them. He hunched over the horse's neck, holding the reins as if they were snakes. The mare held her wings out from her body, a sure sign of her tension. Hoel frowned.

"Let's get in the air and get started," Neste said, kicking Llawen into motion. The mare took off with powerful wingstrokes pulling them to the proper altitude. Neste turned to watch Adam.

He followed, but hesitated just before the drop off. Mallt picked up on his hesitation and paused for an instant. That threw off her timing and she dipped severely before straining to regain altitude. Neste shook her head. They'd both been riders for two years. Did her previous life around the barns give her an advantage somehow? Critically, she examined Adam's posture, how he held the reins, and how he signaled the mare. With such a short time before their performance, what would help him most?

The Aerial Games opened in three days. Before then, the patrons would begin to arrive for the annual event. Their normal world revolved around England's politics more than the ancient Welsh traditions of remote mountain towns like Tremeirchson. Neste couldn't tell you the name of England's current king, but she knew every one of Tremeirchson's nine patrons by sight. For the most part, the lords who supported the barns lived in Merioneth. And in Merioneth lived her brother Niall, older than Neste but younger than her sister, Glynis.

Her parents had alternated naming their children. Her father named them in Welsh; Glynis, Neste, and Cadoc. Mum chose names that reflected her Irish ancestry; Niall and Aidan. Niall held a position with one of the petty lords. He never came to Tremeirchson with his lord, and Neste wasn't even sure what service he provided for the lord.

Her job, though, was to provide the best Aerial Games she could. Today that meant helping Adam as much as possible.

After a couple hours of practice that almost exactly mirrored the experience of the previous day, the session came to an end and they landed. Neste dismounted and removed her helmet. "You worked hard today, Adam. You should see some improvement soon." She smiled, but suspected her true evaluation of his efforts showed in her eyes.

Adam nodded, but his eyes were on the ground. "I hope so."

Hoel looked their way, his expression grim. Neste felt his eyes bore into her as she followed Adam into the barn. The grooms for both horses hurried over to take the reins. Isabella fed Llawen one of the molasses treats that were Neste's own recipe. To Neste's surprise, she offered one to Mallt, too, with a shy smile directed at Adam.

At Mallt's stall, Neste hesitated as the groom unsaddled the mare. Adam made no attempt to assist as Neste did with Llawen. Neste entered the stall and smiled at the groom, who looked at her shyly from under a mop of shaggy brown hair. "Have another brush, Robyn?" He nodded and handed her one. Neste brushed Mallt, talking to her as if it were Llawen. The mare's ears twitched and swiveled at the new voice. In the same soothing tone, still talking to the horse, Neste sent the words to Adam. "She would benefit from your extra attention. They are like babies and soak up whatever affection you can give them. Come on over here and give it a try."

"I have no idea what to do." Adam entered the stall. His reluctance surprised Neste, but she didn't comment. Robyn's silence seemed odd, too. Neste chatted with Isabella as they both worked around her horse. Clearly Adam hadn't built that kind of a relationship with Robyn. She brushed the mare a bit herself, then handed the brush to Adam. She showed him how to hold it, how hard to push, what direction to brush. She tried to ignore the warmth of his hand under hers, and gradually had him grooming the horse, careful not to ruffle wing feathers the wrong way. With a proud smile, she started to compliment him but stopped at his expression. Adam's face scrunched up in concentration, and he frowned as he worked. Neste turned away and stroked the mare's neck as she tried to hide her confusion. The rhythm of brushing always calmed her, creating a moment almost spiritual, a time to bond with horse and rider. Adam, however, looked miserable.

Neste wondered if Adam would allow her to help him. She swallowed hard and set her lips in determination as she turned back to face him. "Can I give you some tips on riding the dance sequence?"

Adam stiffened his back and gripped the brush tightly even though he'd stopped using it on the mare. "You're the expert? We became riders at the same time, remember?"

"I know." Neste kept her tone light. She'd grown up around the winged horses, knew them like he knew the tanner's trade. When he didn't respond, she spoke her thoughts. "Why didn't you become a tanner?"

"My father has true passion for leather. He cures it and works with it—it's an art form in his hands. When I try, it's like a three legged dog among the chickens. I'm awkward and fumbling." He shook his head. "Not unlike my riding."

"You'll ride better with more practice," Neste assured him.

"I suppose so." His shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I'd better ride with you. I can't listen to Hoel's tirades any more. Riding with you is bound to be more effective than his yelling." He forced a grim smile.

Neste smiled back, but his lack of enthusiasm disappointed her. "Follow me this afternoon in practice, and we'll meet again in the morning." Her voice sounded fake cheery in comparison with his tone.

She left Mallt's stall and walked down the barn to Llawen. Her steps quickened and she smiled in anticipation as she always did when on her way to the winged mare. She wondered if Adam felt the same about Mallt. He seemed out of place in Mallt's stall and reluctant to interact with her. After a quick pat on the mare's nose, Neste continued down the barn.

Hoel's stallion munched hay in his stall, already unsaddled. Neste headed down the barn to Marc's office, anticipating her dinner with Hoel. The door was open, but she hesitated. Marc sat behind a scarred table, the ledger of the barn's expenses open before him. He ran his hands through his short gray hair, a habit that left it perpetually tousled. A lantern on the wall flickered.

Hoel stood in front of his father. Tension screamed from stiffened limbs. "He's worthless. The mare's worthless," he said, sweeping his arm in dismissal.

"No one, man or horse, does well with ridicule. Some need to be brought along with encouragement."

Neste waited outside the office, father and son's voices clearly overheard.

Hoel grimaced. "Tad, I have two days to perfect the group dance. I need to spend my time developing talent, not searching for it where it doesn't exist!"

A cloud moved over Marc's face with the speed of a winter storm. His eyes narrowed. "Your job is to create a team that will work together and help each other achieve great things for our barn."

Hoel shook his head. "Our barn? Don't you mean your barn? You've not given me overall leadership."

"You've not shown you are ready."

Neste shifted from foot to foot as her insides twisted. Marc was her barn leader, but Hoel her intended husband. Her instinct prodded her to fix this, but she didn't know what to do.

"I can't dominate the Aerial Games unless I am given the raw materials to build a team!" Hoel's voice rose to near screaming. Neste winced.

"A leader works with what he is given."

The two men glared at each other until she could practically see steam rising from them. When she couldn't stand it any more, Neste entered the office and tugged lightly on Hoel's tunic. "I'll go grab our dinner."

Hoel turned to Neste, and the angry fire faded from his eyes. "Helo, cariad, I'm done here."

Marc waved them out of his office and went back to the ledger on his desk.

Neste hurried into the kitchen and gathered the dinner the cook had prepared. With a full basket in hand, she rejoined Hoel in the main aisle of the barn. They walked up the hill in silence. From here the view spilled out over the valley below. Neste sat on the grassy hilltop and unwrapped packages of food. Preoccupied with planning what to say, what not to say, what to ask, she was startled when Hoel spoke.

"This was a good idea. Just what I needed."

She looked at him and relaxed. He smiled, his eyes warm and affectionate. All traces of anger and hard edges had disappeared.

"It's a beautiful day." When you have something potentially upsetting to discuss, the weather is a wonderful stall tactic.

"Not as beautiful as the company." He reached out to twist a strand of her chestnut hair that had escaped its braid. "You're good for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Neste smiled but squirmed a bit. She didn't always feel this awkward when she talked to Hoel, but words and images from the recent argument filled her head. How could he push it away so fast and so completely?

Conversation remained scarce as they commented on the flaky pastry and sliced ham, on tomorrow's weather, on anything but Adam and Mallt and the Aerial Games.

When the sun had inched a bit across the sky, Neste took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I know you don't want to talk about Adam, but maybe I can help him. I know I'm not perfect..."

"You're a far sight better than he is."

Encouraged by Hoel's calm tone, Neste continued. "I'm going to work in some additional practices with him. It can't hurt."

"I appreciate your devotion to the team, cariad, but I don't like the way that tanner's son looks at you. Maybe Phelip can help him."

"Adam looks at everyone like that."

"Do you really think you can help him?"

She nodded. "I'll know more after practice today."

Hoel narrowed his eyes and looked out across the valley. The breeze lifted a lock of his hair. "All right, then. Do what you can." He stood up and swept into an exaggerated bow as he kissed her hand. "A pleasure dining with you, milady."

Neste actually disliked this mockery of nobility. Tremeirchson had no place for such frippery. It was better left to the patrons in Merioneth. Such behavior went with ornate carriages and elaborate gowns, not with tunics covered in silver horsehair. Nonetheless, she stood up and curtsied, responding in kind. "And with you, milord."

"Time to practice our dance." He infused his words with an implication that the dance existed for the two of them alone.

"I have to check on a couple of horses first, then I'll join you." She kept her voice neutral so her nerves wouldn't show. Hoel's group dance was difficult. Not for the first time she doubted her own riding skills. At the very least, she was better than Adam. The thought stabbed her with guilt.

Hoel hurried off to make sure the team was prepared to practice. Neste swept the remains of their dinner into a bundle and stuffed it back in the basket. Overhead, wisps of cloud drifted across the blue sky, and a few horses were aloft. From the hilltop she could see where the red cliffs plunged into the valley. In a few moments, they'd be flying above that valley. She turned away from the view and hurried down the hill.

The small stone-walled kitchen jutted out from the side of the barn like an afterthought. Entering the barn through the narrow kitchen door, Neste plunged into the bustle. If you entered the barn through the great doors at the end of the building, the effect was gradual. First you felt the majesty of the soaring beams, then the warmth of horsey smells and snorts. Only then did your heart race with the frenetic pace of barn life. Neste loved the pulse of horses and humans working together. Many nights she didn't want to leave the barn to go home.

Neste stayed close to the stalls as she headed toward her charges. She seemed to have a knack for healing simple injuries and checked on a swollen foreleg, a bruised shoulder, and a torn wing. As she passed Mallt's stall, the door opened and Adam emerged, Mallt's rein in his hand, his brow furrowed. His face cleared into a smile when he saw Neste. "Helo! Off to try it yet again."

His smile was infectious. It lightened her heart and brought an answering smile to her own face. "Yes, practice until it's perfect."

Neste eyed Mallt critically. "What are you feeding her? Has her coat always been this texture?"

"I use the same feed everyone else does."

Neste stroked the horse's coat and walked around her. "Adding some sunflower seed oil might help. And brush her more often." She studied Adam out of the corner of her eye. With his blond hair and green eyes, he was certainly handsome. And his shoulders were broader than Hoel's.

"Diolch, Neste." His green eyes sparkled as he thanked her. She blushed and riveted her eyes to the floor. Had he caught her looking?

She walked to Llawen's stall and hummed softly as she wound her braid onto her head and covered it with the leather helmet.

That afternoon Hoel ran enough drills to drive pleasant thoughts from her mind and heart. They repeated sections of the dance and the whole routine in a grueling workout. Day had begun to fade by the time they landed, exhausted. Neste couldn't stand the thought of another tirade from Hoel directed at Adam, so when he started sniping she returned home for supper and some peace and quiet.

***

Immediately after a light meal with Glynis, she walked to the fountain. Today Neste didn't look for Elen right away because she was early. She watched the water dance from Aer's stone mouth and thought about Hoel. His temper was much hotter than his father's. She hoped as Hoel matured he would learn tolerance and patience from Marc. Encouraging those traits would be her job, too. Lost in contemplation of her future with Hoel, Elen walked right up and startled her.

"Your mind is out past Merioneth, sailing on Cardigan Bay," Elen teased. She bounced on her toes as she talked, her smile as wide as the valley floor. Her coif had slipped off her head and hung down her back. Her black curls danced as she moved.

"You have news! Out with it!" Neste exclaimed.

"Oh, he is so handsome," Elen said, and her eyes drifted toward dreamy.

"I assume we're talking about Morgan. Did you perform the pairs dance with him today?"

Elen sat down and put both hands on Neste's arm. "It was wonderful! Two souls in unity..." She freed one hand to trace swoops and spirals in the air.

"I'm happy for you, fy cyfaill." Welsh seemed to add a note of sincerity to the declaration of friendship. Neste grabbed Elen's hand and squeezed it.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Elen exclaimed. She held out a stem with a delicate white flower. "My proof that I haven't killed the wild garlic yet."

Neste laughed as she took the flower. She'd given Elen the bulb and helped her plant it two years ago when they became riders.

"You are such a dreamer you need something to ground you. Caring for a plant will do that," Neste had told her.

"I'll show you I can do it!" Elen had exclaimed. And she had. Every night, April through June, Elen brought her a flower when they met at the fountain. For the rest of the year, when the plant wasn't blooming, Neste had to be content with verbal reports of the plant's health.

Neste reached up and traced the flower along Aer's stone leg. "A plant will ground an air person and give her balance."

"Sounds like something your mother would say."

"Iawn, it is," Neste agreed. "She knows about air people and their dreams. She also knows about earth people and their gardens, and about water people and their mercurial nature. Everyone has those elements within them. A good life is about balancing them and not letting any one aspect take control."

"Yes, Mum," Elen teased. "But I like to dream of spending every minute in the air with my beloved."

"The mare or the man?" Neste teased back. "Seriously, a plant is the perfect balance. It needs air, water, and earth to create beauty. It's amazing we aren't all worshiping plants!"

Elen laughed until she gasped for breath. Neste joined her. Laughter was good medicine. It took away all the stress of competition, her mother's ill health, Hoel's moods. Nothing was better medicine than laughing with a friend.

Chapter 3: Vocation

Morning arrived clad in its usual gray mist. Neste dressed in her split skirt and tunic. Before she left the house, she stopped in to see her mother. It dismayed her to see Mum's face lined and pale this morning, with dark circles shadowing her eyes.

"Bore da, Mum. Rough night?"

She gave a tired smile. "Everything hurts, head, back, legs. Don't worry, though. I can nap all day. I'm not going anywhere." She grimaced at her poor joke.

After retiring from a long career as rider for a small barn, Mum had enjoyed six years in her flower garden. Soon after Neste's father died, it became too painful for her to kneel on the ground or grip a tool. When walking became difficult, she sat by the fire. Then her back ached and she took to her bed. After years of immobility, her muscles wilted. Today they probably wouldn't support her body even if her joints were able to straighten. Neste and her sister couldn't fix her, but they could try to keep her comfortable.

"Has Glynis brought your tea?"

Mum waved at the small table near the bed where a mug of tea steamed. "She doesn't make it as well as you do."

"You still have to drink it for it to do any good," Neste teased, trying to lighten her mother's mood.

"Nothing does any good."

"It smells like Tad's recipe. You like that."

Her father had been boyhood friends with the apothecary. Kenn claimed Da would have been wonderful with medicines, but he preferred to experiment. Research, he called it. He spent hours with Kenn at his shop in town and filled journal after journal with notes about reactions of certain plants with other plants. He didn't live long enough to enjoy Neste's own interest in herbs and healing, only long enough to betroth her to Hoel.

"I'll drink it, you go on. I'll be fine."

"I know you will. I'll come see you later, Mum." Neste leaned over to kiss her forehead. Da's painkilling tea had kept Mum strong for years. Now, with the pain so much greater, Neste suspected she drank it for the memories.

In the front room, Neste threw a cloak over her shoulders.

Glynis came in from the kitchen. "Will you be late today?" she asked.

Neste didn't like her sister's sharp tone. "It's the last practice before the Aerial Games opens. I must stay as long as Marc needs me to."

"I could use your help here. Mum is quite demanding lately, asking for her tea and wanting her pillows straightened. Yesterday she dropped her embroidery needle four times and I had to come fetch it off the floor for her!"

"I know you work hard for Mum. I wish I could help more, I really do. After the Games are over, I can be home more." Neste turned and looked at her sister. "You could add more feverfew to the tea. It might help the pain."

"I know you can't help right now." Glynis's shoulders slumped. "Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in this house. All the rest of you escaped to your own lives."

"Did you want to escape? I thought keeping a home was what you wanted."

"Someday I'd like to keep my own home, you know, have my own family."

Neste didn't know why she was surprised. Glynis couldn't have wanted spinsterhood and care of an ill parent. No one dreamed about that. "I'm sorry. I promise I will shoulder more of the burden after the Games."

Glynis retreated to the kitchen with a grunt.

Neste opened the door and walked past the broken gate. Anger pricked her, as it did every so often. Niall lived far away in Merioneth, but her other two brothers were here in town. Aidan rode for another barn, and Cadoc, the youngest, was apprenticed to the blacksmith in town. They could certainly visit more often. She'd have to push her older sister to get out of the house more, to live her own life. Cadoc claimed the master blacksmith controlled every minute of his life. Neste didn't know much about apprenticeships, so she couldn't argue with him. Aidan had completed his first year as a rider, and she would have loved to compare experiences with him. This would be his first Aerial Games. Was he nervous or excited? Aidan kept to himself. She probably would never know.

The barn glowed softly from a handful of lanterns, and Neste pushed thoughts of her family to the back of her mind. Some grooms were already beginning their day. Riders were most likely still in bed. She and Adam, though, planned to practice a bit before the rest of the team was ready.

"Neste? Will Rhiryd be able to fly today?"

She turned to see an anxious rider. Smiling, she said, "Let's check his ankle again, all right, Phelip?"

Neste entered the stall and stroked the horse gently, whispering reassurances. Turning to Rhiryd's rider, she said, "He'll be fine. The ankle's sore, maybe from a hard landing. Takeoffs and landings might be a bit awkward, but in flight you won't notice a difference. Keep the landing as soft as you can." She would have preferred to ground the sorrel until the ankle healed, but the Aerial Games opened tomorrow. Marc would expect all his horses to be in the air.

"Diolch, Neste." Phelip breathed his thanks with relief.

Neste smiled, happy to be of assistance, and continued down the barn. The latch on Llawen's stall door clinked as she opened it, and the mare nickered in greeting. Isabella nearly had her saddled, the bridle already in place. "Bore da, Isabella! You must have had a premonition that I'd want to ride early!"

The shy girl smiled through long strands of hair. "Bore da, Neste. No premonition. I saw you in Mallt's stall and figured you were up early for extra practice."

Smart girl. She knew the extra practice wasn't for Llawen. "Diolch," Neste thanked her. "I want as much extra time as we can manage." She took Llawen's reins and led her from the stall.

Isabella fed Llawen a molasses treat and kissed her on the nose. "Pob lwc."

Neste gathered the good luck wish into her heart. She would need it more than the mare.

Outside the damp air made Neste shiver, and she debated whether she should fetch a cloak. She decided it was more important to get in the air. Adam already sat astride Mallt, waiting for her near the takeoff area. Running feet announced Isabella. She came from the barn with Neste's cloak.

"Diolch again! And you say you don't have premonitions!"

"Just common sense," she said, but her smile flashed at Adam, not Neste.

She slipped into the cloak and swung aboard Llawen. The mare flexed her shoulder muscles and fluttered her wings as she walked over to Adam and Mallt.

"You go first," she told Adam. "I want to watch how you handle her."

Adam nodded and galloped Mallt toward the cliff. Neste couldn't fault the approach or the take off, which were both technically perfect. She followed, and as soon as Llawen attained altitude she waved Adam into position next to her. "Follow me first, then I want to watch you!"

Again he nodded. Neste flew the complicated part of the dance routine, concentrating on modeling it perfectly. She almost pulled it off. The second time through, she followed Adam. Critically she examined every wingstroke. With a twist of her hand, Neste urged Llawen closer to Mallt than the mare wanted to go. Persistent training overcame a horse's instinct to fly clear of other Flying close enough to tangle wingtips if they weren't careful, she watched Adam's legs and hands as they guided the mare. Again, technically correct. She guided Llawen to a safer distance away, and put the other pair through the routine again. They flew it correctly. Why didn't it look right? Something about Mallt's wings looked wrong. In a flash of understanding, Neste realized the other pair just went through the motions. No passion ignited their performance.

She remembered once when she was quite young a bard came through Tremeirchson. The townspeople gathered in the tavern to hear him, but his songs disappointed her. Mum had told her that he just sang the songs as duty. He wasn't passionate about his work. She told Neste that passion lit a flame inside that glowed through a performance and brought out the brilliance. The fountain in town had a pillar of flame in the middle, too. It represented the passion a balanced life could achieve. Mum's words had stayed with Neste, and now she realized what Adam lacked.

She waved them in to the barn, and they landed in unison. A few riders hung around the yard, and grooms scurried about readying the horses for the last day of practice before the opening of competition.

"How terrible was I?" Adam asked, but his attempt at humor fell flat.

At least Neste assumed it was humor. Without responding, she dismounted and took off her helmet. Adam did the same. The grooms hurried from the barn to cool and water the horses before the main practice began. Isabella fed Llawen another molasses treat. She really did spoil the mare.

Neste led Adam to an oak tree near the barn. A person who stood under its canopy could admire the vista of the valley spread out below, carpeted in grass, and the stark reddish cliffs that rose behind them. Beyond the cliffs, the majesty of Yr Wydda dominated the sky. Neste had no interest in the view, though. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and twisted the end.

"What is it that you truly want to do with your life?" she asked Adam.

"Dw i ddim yn deall," he said, his green eyes darkening. "I don't understand."

She mentally debated what to say to him. "You seem to fly without much passion for it."

He looked surprised, then shook his head. "I am a tanner's son who cannot tan leather. Becoming a rider seemed the glamorous thing to do. My friends were so jealous. Only a few townspeople are chosen, you know." She nodded. Most riders came from people connected to the barns, like herself. Adam leaned against the oak tree, knee bent and one booted foot flat against the solid trunk. "I made a decision in the excitement of the moment," he continued. "It's not something I grew up dreaming about like you did. It's an awful lot of work, actually, and I haven't got the skill to see the reward."

Neste couldn't respond as her mind whirled. She had loved watching the horses fly and dreamed of caring for one, but flying hadn't been in her dreams. Even so, she was determined to improve. "You'll get better," she murmured.

"Na, I won't. In your heart, you know it. I'll always be average, and that's not good enough for Hoel's barn."

"Marc is barn leader," she protested.

"Not for long. He'll retire and Hoel will assume leadership. Then things will change. I'll never be good enough."

"Practice, practice," she murmured.

Adam directed the full force of his smile on her. With one eyebrow raised, he asked, "Will you continue to ride with me?"

Neste responded. She couldn't help herself. A smile spread across her face, and her stomach fluttered. "Of course."

Caught up in Adam's smile, Neste jumped when Hoel appeared at her side. She felt a blush tinting her cheeks and turned her face upwards in contemplation of the oak's spreading canopy.

"How did it go?" Hoel demanded.

"Very well," Adam replied smoothly. "I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Neste took a deep breath and looked at Hoel. His eyes narrowed and lips set, he responded to Adam. "It's not your opinion that counts."

"He's better," Neste assured him.

Hoel looked from one to the other. "Time to line up. Fetch your horses." He stalked off to where his own groom was holding Lleu.

"Maybe I should just give up any extra practices." Adam now sounded discouraged.

"So are you saying you won't try to improve?" she asked.

"If it were up to me, I'd never mount that nag again."

Neste sucked in a shocked breath. She'd never heard of a rider that didn't want to ride. "Would you give her up? No precedent exists..." Her voice trailed off.

"Na, I know. It's not done. I will make do."

"Make do? Mallt is young. She'll fly fifteen or more years. You're content to be average that entire time?" Neste twisted the helmet strap in her hand. His attitude agitated her even though she could do nothing about it.

"I have no choice."

He turned and walked back to the barn, his shoulders slumped. Neste stared after him. At the trough near the barn, Hoel took Llawen from Isabella and headed in her direction. Dismayed, Neste felt tears threaten. She didn't want to handle Hoel's jealousy after Adam's despair. He didn't say anything though. Adam came out of the barn with Mallt and looked toward the oak tree. Hoel handed Llawen's reins to Neste, then slid his arm possessively over her shoulder. Adam turned away.

"You know," Hoel said, "the group dance can be modified for four horses."

Neste's stomach twirled. "Oh, na, he'll be ready, he really will." She hoped it was true. Hoel nodded, his mouth set in a straight line.

***

After another exhausting dance practice and a quiet supper with the team, Neste trudged to the fountain. Her thoughts weighed her down. Hoel's jealousy would never allow a discussion of Adam's plight. Glynis wanted her to spend more time at home, but this was the busiest time of year at the barn. Marc would put his riders in the air all day and night if the horses were strong enough.

Elen arrived before her, bristling with happy energy. She handed the white flower over with a dramatic flourish. Her joy glowed next to Neste's despair.

"Neste, the most wonderful thing!" Elen's arms swooped over her head, her eyes alight.

Of course it was wonderful. Elen's life never seemed anything but wonderful Neste twirled the flower stem and tried to summon a smile.

"Morgan asked me to marry him! His father will announce the betrothal tomorrow!"

Tears welled in Neste's eyes. "I'm so happy for you."

"You don't look very happy. What's wrong?" Concern drove the jubilation off her friend's face.

Neste turned away from her friend and wiped the tears off her cheeks. Neste remembered racing Elen up the little hill behind the barns, laughing and shouting. As children, they often escaped their mother's eyes and ran off to the fountain or the hill. They lay on their backs in the grass, hair streaming out behind them, and watched horses fly. If no horses were in the sky, they told stories about the cloud shapes and dreamed.

Neste took a deep breath and walked slowly around the fountain. "Do you realize what this means?"

"It means I will be united for life with the man I am passionate about! Why do you sound so sad?"

Neste completed the circuit around the fountain and leaned against the stone Aer. "We are marrying men who are sworn enemies. Do you think they will welcome our friendship?" The two men's families had feuded over barn politics long before their grandfathers were born. When Elen and Neste each married, loyalty would have to be to husband first. Their friendship would be difficult to maintain if their husbands were bitter enemies.

Elen fell silent for a moment, the light gone from her eyes. "I don't think Morgan will forbid it."

Neste felt a perverse relief that the happy bubble had burst, then immediately guilt washed over her. "Elen, I am happy for you, I really am. I know how much you love Morgan." She let the unspoken question hang between them. She suspected that Hoel would indeed forbid her to see Elen.

"I know you are," Elen whispered. "We'll find a way to remain friends."

Neste took Elen's hand in hers. If they continued to meet at the fountain every night, would they spend time in discussion of everything but their husbands' feud? She knew they had to try, and smiled at her friend. Elen enveloped her in a hug, and the two friends held on to each other as if tonight was their last night on Earth. "Nothing will part us, Elen. You'll see. We will find a way."

"We will find a way," Elen echoed.

Chapter 4: Morgan

She left the stall and headed for the takeoff area, where Isabella held a saddled Llawen's reins. Late meeting Adam for their extra practice, her feet dragged with reluctance. These extra sessions weren't paying off as well as she'd hoped. She should tell Adam so and stop wasting their time, but he looked at her so hopefully each time they met she couldn't give up. The grand performance of the Humminghorse Dance was three days away. Tomorrow they would all bow and scrape to patrons arriving from Merioneth and fly the elegant Dance of Welcome that opened the Games. All nine barns would have horses in the air.

Neste smiled as she remembered the sight from the ground. As a child she'd climbed up on the basin of the fountain and leaned her head back so far she almost fell. Above her head the horses soared in a blaze of brown, white, black and cream. She'd loved the whisper of wings and the fluttering manes and tails, all accompanied by the trumpet fanfare from the ground. With her father, they'd searched for her mother's horse and cheered. And now Neste rode in the Dance for Marc's barn. It swelled her heart with pride, knowing that below her on the ground another generation of children admired Llawen.

Her smile disappeared when she exited the barn and saw Adam chatting with Isabella, who held Llawen. Isabella's long hair was tied back instead of in its usual disarray, and she beamed at Adam. Neste knew how she felt. Adam was easy to be around. A silly smile found its way to her face, and she hurried to him.

When he spotted Neste, though, he looked miserable. "Bore da," she greeted him, trying not to sound grim.

Adam nodded to her and twisted Mallt's reins in his hand. "Last practice. Hope a miracle occurs."

"You and Mallt have worked hard. You really are getting better."

He shook his head. "It won't be good enough."

"Positive attitude now," she scolded him. "Mallt will sense your mood. Be confident."

"Right." He set his mouth in a tense line and swung aboard his mare.

Neste patted Llawen on the nose and took the reins from Isabella. Once in the saddle, she motioned Adam to proceed. For an hour they put Mallt through the routine. Neste tried to inspire Adam to greatness and fell short. He moved woodenly through the dance, which made Neste want to cry with frustration. His positions were perfect, though, and that was an improvement even if the flow between them was choppy.

Mallt and Llawen glided in to land. More tired than usual after the practice session, Neste groaned when she saw Hoel in the yard. He stared into the sky, his legs stiff and feet apart, hands on his hips. She urged Llawen to walk next to Mallt and hissed at Adam, "Keep your head up. Be proud of your extra effort! You have improved greatly."

"Do you really think so?" Adam squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and shook the blond hair out of his eyes. "I thought I had, but it's important to hear you say so."

Hoel snatched the reins of both horses and stood between their heads. The massive wings folded back along their bodies so Neste and Hoel could dismount. Mallt blocked her, so Neste swung down on the off side of the horse and came around to wrest the reins from Hoel. His attention, of course, focused on Adam.

Hoel's eyes flashed dangerously, but in a carefully measured tone, he said, "Nicely flown, Adam. Your extra effort is beginning to pay off. Why don't you take Mallt inside now?"

Adam's eyes flew wide with shock at the praise, and he beamed as he raced for the barn, dragging the mare after him.

Hoel turned to Neste. "There. I was nice. Is that what you wanted?"

Neste smiled. "Diolch, cariad."

"Now tell me how that tanner's son is really doing." Contempt oozed from his voice and Neste's smile disappeared.

"He's getting better." Neste hesitated. She couldn't voice the slightest doubt. It was important for Adam to do well in the dance. He needed to succeed at something in the air or she feared he would sink even deeper into the darkness that threatened to swallow him.

"Not better enough to ride in the dance."

"Na, na, he'll be fine. Really, Hoel, you must let him fly it. He's worked so very hard. It's important to him that he do well." Neste blanched a little at the lie. She knew Adam didn't care about much of anything to do with the dance. Nevertheless, a successful execution of the dance would revitalize him.

Hoel nodded. "We'll see how he does in your practice with him tomorrow morning. Then after the Dance of Welcome we can practice the dance with four horses if we need to." Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away.

Isabella hurried up to take Llawen from Neste, who stared after Hoel with trepidation freezing her soul. Slowly she turned away from the barn and its associated problems and headed home.

Unlike the barn, where everyone bustled about in anticipation of tomorrow's events, Neste's home remained quiet. With Glynis occupied in the kitchen, she slipped into her Mum's room. Her mother lay motionless, staring out the window.

"How was your day, Mum?"

A wan smile flitted across her face. "The usual, cariad. You're the one with the exciting days. Tell me how it went."

Mum looked tired. Neste sat on the bed and searched her mind for something to say. Her brain fixated on Hoel and Adam. Before she could think about her words, she blurted out, "Why did Da betroth me to Hoel? I mean, I know he will be barn leader..." Her voice trailed off.

"Your father never cared about status. He believed Hoel would always take care of you." Neste felt her mother's eyes examine her face. "Did something happen?"

Neste struggled to control her face, but her eyes welled with tears. "Adam has been so nice." She swallowed and wiped her eyes before they spilled over. "I wish Hoel wasn't so jealous." She felt like she was betraying her father's dying wish.

"Oh, Neste." She squeezed Neste's hand. "I know Marc better than his son, I'm afraid. Marc is a good leader, a good man. Are you saying Hoel is not a good man?"

Neste shook her head. "Na, na. He's good to me. His visions of the barn's future are strong, and he's determined to see those visions through. He can be sharp with the riders, though, especially the good-looking men."

"And how do you feel?"

"I'm confused." She sighed. "I love talking with Hoel about his dreams, and I take pleasure in being the one the riders come to when their horses are injured or sick." She hesitated. "But when I'm with Adam I smile more."

"Are you saying you want to break the betrothal?"

Mum had always been able to keep a neutral tone that encouraged confidences rather than arguments. "I can't, Mum. This betrothal was Da's dying wish. It's a betrayal of him to break it."

"Neste, listen to me. You may not believe this, but parents aren't perfect. We do the best we can for our children, making decisions every day about the path their lives will take. Your father and I had our vision of how the five of you would go, but our choices didn't always turn out the way we planned. We never intended for Niall to live in Merioneth. If your father were alive, he would be willing to rethink your betrothal if that's what you really wanted."

"Are you giving me permission to encourage Adam?" Neste couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

"I'm giving you permission to follow your heart. What can Adam offer you besides smiles? People grow and change. You never know in advance exactly how they will turn out. Hoel may yet learn to be a barn leader. Adam will ride for him. Can you push away the leader in order to encourage a man who rides for him? Have you discussed this with Adam?"

"Oh, na!" Shock sharpened Neste's voice. "Of course not! I am loyal to Hoel. My betrothal means more to me than that."

"Then the only advice I can give you is to follow your heart. I will help you as best I can."

"Diolch, Mum." Neste kissed her mother goodnight.

In the doorway, she watched Mum's gaze return to the garden outside the window. Her mother looked more careworn and tired than when Neste had first come in. Breaking her betrothal could not be done lightly.

***

Later that evening, Nest walked to the fountain with her mind full of warring thoughts. Elen noticed immediately.

"Tell me," she ordered.

"Tell you what?" Neste asked, twisting a length of hair in her fingers and staring at it as if it was fascinating.

"Your thoughts are miles away."

Neste sighed. She and Elen shared everything always. "I'm considering breaking my betrothal." She waited for Elen to jump for joy.

Instead, concern darkened her friend's face. She took Neste's hand in hers. "Oh, fy cyfaill, I know how hard this decision is for you. Is it right?"

"It feels right in the barn. Elsewhere..." Her voice trailed off. Reaching a hand up for the comfort of a stone flank, Neste discovered she had chosen to sit beneath Ystrad instead of Aer. Ystrad, the earth horse. Her father had been earth, as was her mother. Nurturing, healing, caring—these were earth characteristics. Da cared for her and gave her to Hoel. Her heart twisted.

"Neste..." Elen hesitated.

Neste squeezed her friend's hand. Words were unnecessary. She basked in the silent support.

Chapter 5: Opening

The next day the air shimmered with excitement. The mist stayed above the mountains, and Neste pushed away yesterday's doubts. Some years the swirling gray made visibility treacherous during the Dance of Welcome. This year the weather promised to be good. The horses snorted and stamped, eager to fly, and grooms as well as riders scurried to and fro. Blue and silver trappings covered horses and riders. They all lived for the Aerial Games, their time to show off what rider and horse could do. Barn rivalries would be decided for another year, and patrons would invest in the winners.

Brushed until her coat glowed with good health, Llawen took Neste's breath away. "She looks great," she told Isabella.

"Two treats for the Dance of Welcome," Isabella told the mare. She kissed the velvet nose as she held out the treats.

"You spoil her," Neste teased.

Robyn led Mallt out, and Neste looked the mare over critically. The extra brushing and feed had improved the dull coat. She didn't shine like Llawen, but her feet pranced and she kept her head up. Neste nodded to Adam in satisfaction, but it was Robyn who smiled with pride.

Then the time arrived to form up and take off. Marc believed they should celebrate the Dance of Welcome, so he never planned a complicated routine. The horses swooped and circled as they showed off for the spectators below them. Clad in colors to match those of their favorite barns, townspeople and visitors cheered for horses and riders as they passed overhead.

Neste pushed trepidation over the Humminghorse Dance out of her head. Smiling widely, she waved to the crowd as Llawen dipped a wing. Thunderous cheering erupted from a group of spectators clad in blue and silver. Above Marc's barn, the green and gold tunics of Morgan's riders executed their own routine. On the ground, people dressed in green and gold cheered them. Beyond his horses, seven other barns flew. A sky full of colorful tunics and wings, echoed by the colors on the ground, gladdened Neste.

All too soon, the Dance of Welcome came to an end and the horses began to land at the nine barns. Neste spotted her brother, clad in the scarlet and gold of his barn. He didn't look as nervous as a first-time participant should be. She took off her helmet and waved and smiled at him, hoping to give him some encouragement. He waved back, but didn't approach.

Riders called to each other, "Better stay home tomorrow! Our horses are so good we'll sweep you from the sky!"

"Not as long as there's breath in my horse," they called back. Good natured taunting was as much as part of the Games as the hours of preparation and the colored tunics.

Morgan's horses landed next to them. The wind from their wings swept over Neste and loosened her braid from its twist. The rope of hair swung free as she urged Llawen forward out of the way.

"Watch where you land that beast!" Hoel shouted at Morgan.

"Get your team out of my way!" Morgan called back, his voice ringing with authority.

Neste dismounted quickly and positioned herself and Llawen between the two men. Nothing friendly lurked in this particular rivalry. Hoel stuffed Lleu's reins into her hand and brushed past her. Neste held both horses and swallowed in dread.

"Now that you're barn leader it's acceptable to land on top of another barn?" Hoel demanded.

Morgan dismounted swiftly and ripped his helmet off. His short hair was blond, but darker than Adam's. He stood with his feet apart, legs rigid. "Of course not. I landed when and where I was supposed to. You were too slow getting out of the way. But then, you aren't a barn leader so maybe you don't know the importance of timing when a hundred horses are in the air."

Nose to nose, the two men radiated enough rage to disturb the horses. Morgan's stallion laid his ears back and screamed at Lleu, who tried to rear. Neste held him tight although the leather rein bit into her hand.

"Hoel, stop it," she said, trying for a calm firm tone. "You're upsetting Lleu."

Morgan smiled at Neste and was about to say something, probably a greeting, but Hoel interrupted by stepping between them. He snapped, "We'll settle this in the air. Our barn is set to crush you this year."

"Don't make threats you can't back up, son of a barn leader." Morgan turned away before Hoel could say any more and led his stallion back to the biggest barn in town.

Hoel sputtered and cursed as he stormed back to his father's barn. Neste followed with both horses, leading them past Lord Farley and his son. Dressed in blue silk tunics heavily embroidered with silver, the patrons stood with their chins lifted high above the riders and grooms. For the horses, however, they smiled and nodded in approval.

Just inside the barn, Marc frowned as he approached his son. "If they are to respect you, you need to be an example. You will remember that the patron provides our barn's existence."

Neste sucked in a breath. Clearly he hadn't heard the altercation between his son and Morgan. His father's reaction wouldn't encourage Hoel.

"Your barn." Hoel snorted. He shook his head. "Not for long. Morgan's father has already given over the leadership to his son. Why do you cling to the glory days of your past?"

Neste gasped, then hid her face in Llawen's mane. She heard Marc's even tone slice through her betrothed. "Morgan has proven to be capable of leadership. You have not. I will not retire and watch you turn many generations of barn leadership into a farce. Now put a smile on your face. Lord Farley is outside, and he's got his own son with him. Seems he, too, is training his replacement." His eyes narrowed as he stared at his son. "I wonder how it's going for him?"

For a moment father and son glared at each other. Hoel broke first. He turned on his boot heel and stalked down the barn, his back stiff, his hands clenching Lleu's rein.

Marc turned to Neste, and his gaze softened. "He's a good man."

"I know that, syr."

"You're good for him. The two of you will be a formidable pair, leading my barn into the next generation."

Neste dropped her eyes to the ground and twisted Llawen's rein in both hands. "You're a good leader, syr. I am honored you and Da chose me to be your son's helpmate."

"I only hope he knows your worth. I'd better not keep Lord Farley waiting." Marc nodded to her in dismissal and left the barn.

***

After supper that evening, most of the spectators retired to their lodgings or to the tavern. Neste walked in the gathering dusk through almost-empty lanes between the barns. She knew riders were too excited and nervous to sleep, but they stayed close to their barns on the night before competition began. Elen arrived at the fountain almost the same time Neste did.

"And another Games has begun!" Neste greeted her friend, throwing her arms to the sky, fingers spread wide.

"So exciting!" Elen handed over the wild garlic flower and threw her arms around her friend in a warm hug. "Did your mother see any of the welcome dances?"

Neste nodded. "Her window faces the valley. She saw enough swoops and spirals to stir her memories."

Elen smiled. "I'm glad for her. I remember the last couple of years she raced. Her mare was pretty fast."

"Yes, she was. When is your pairs dance with Morgan?" Neste asked as they sat close together on the basin.

"Tomorrow afternoon. I'm so excited!"

"Not nervous at all?" Neste teased as she leaned close to bump her friend's shoulder with her own.

"Na, I'm not. It feels so right to be in the air with Morgan that I want to fly with him all the time. His father will announce our betrothal tomorrow, and everyone will know we are meant to be together."

"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you. This is what you've wanted forever."

Elen took her friend's hand in both of hers. "Oh, Neste, I hope you are happy."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Neste tried not to sound sharp.

"Hoel's a difficult man. You can't deny that. He's nicer when you're around, but you can't love him with all your heart."

"I do love him, Elen. We'll be good together. It's a solid match, and it's what my father wanted." Neste wished her words didn't sound so hollow.

"But you're considering someone else?"

Neste flushed. "We should concentrate on tomorrow's events. I race Llawen in the morning, then I will watch your dance."

Elen narrowed her eyes but didn't pursue Neste's romance. "I'll watch your race. Your mum must be proud. You're favored in this one."

"I am? I really didn't even know that. Llawen is good at the short races, but I prefer the dances."

"Even when it means the Humminghorse Dance?"

Neste grinned. "Oddly enough, the challenge of that dance thrills me."

"I can hardly wait to see the final performance."

Her reflection led to thoughts of the interchange between Hoel and Morgan. "Did you hear Hoel and Morgan this morning?"

Elen grimaced. "They sounded like two stallions competing over a mare."

Neste shook her head. "They really set each other off. Together we have to try to ease that relationship."

"That's harder than making horses hover."

"I'm sure they can compete without killing each other!" Neste said. She tried not to let her frustration enter her voice.

"Speaking of competition, how is Adam doing?" Elen wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Neste blushed. "I hope Hoel will let him ride. We practiced this afternoon with four horses. I don't know if Adam was angry or relieved."

"Isn't Adam getting better? After all, you've been spending so much extra time with him."

"A bit. Enough, I hope. He really needs to be successful at something."

"He's good looking and nice. Are you enjoying these sessions?"

"Elen, stop it. I am betrothed to Hoel. Must I remind you that it is what my father desired? If nothing else, I can fulfill his dying wish." Her stomach twisted at her words, but she couldn't be honest with Elen until she knew her own heart.

"I know your father's wish is important to you, Neste, I'm sorry. I'll stop teasing you."

Neste lay a hand on the stone flank of the nearest horse statue and focused her gaze on the stream of water coming from its mouth. Adam was indeed handsome and nice, but that wasn't enough reason to break a betrothal. But she couldn't deny that her heart flipped every time those green eyes settled on her.

Chapter 6: Racing

On the first day of competition, the barn always hummed with excitement. Horses tossed their heads or shifted in their stalls, and grooms hurried about with more sense of purpose. Riders joked and shouted in louder voices than usual.

Neste, clad in her blue and silver tunic, imagined Elen putting on Morgan's green and gold. She paced in front of Llawen's stall as Isabella burnished the mare's coat with every brush the barn owned. Blue and silver ribbons hung from the reins, and a blue and silver blanket lay under the beribboned saddle.

Neste trembled with excited nerves as she finally swung up to Llawen's back. The competition opened with her short race this morning. It had surprised her last night when Elen said the judges favored Llawen in the short race. Neste hadn't even considered a victory of her own. Her entire focus had been on tomorrow's group dance. Elen's words echoed in her head and made her nervous.

"Go well, milady," Isabella said as she patted Llawen's neck. "I'll have a molasses treat waiting for our racer."

"Diolch, I will," Neste promised the groom with a tremulous smile.

Other riders prepared for their own events and called good wishes to her. Those that didn't have events today would cheer for the other riders from Marc's barn and shout encouragement. The camaraderie bolstered Neste.

Hoel came to see her off. "Your mare is the picture of good health and you fly her well. Go out and do me proud." He beamed at her, and she carried that smile in her heart as she moved toward the takeoff area.

She took off with no interference, the only rider from Marc's barn in this race. The cool morning caressed her as she directed Llawen to the start. Only racers were in the air since it was still fairly early. Riders liked to warm up their horses, but they didn't like to distract spectators from the main event.

As Neste flew over the center of Tremeirchson, she looked down on the spectators from town and from outlying areas that lined the streets and covered the fountain. Colorful tents of merchants from as far away as Merioneth ringed the fountain. It looked like they were already doing a brisk business. The judges' tents billowed in the breeze, and benches waited for the band that would play for the afternoon dances. The normality of it all calmed Neste. She had enough experience to stay in control.

Just five horses circled near the start. She waved to Beka from a small barn near Marc's. An experienced rider, Beka's mare wasn't as quick as she'd been in her youth. Alis, a new rider for Morgan, sat stiffly between her mount's wings. Neste nodded to her. Neste spotted Robert, an experienced rider completely focused on the race. Then she saw her brother. They would compete against each other in the first event! Aidan's horse, draped in scarlet and gold, looked fresh and eager. Aidan sat her well. Neste tried to fly closer to wish her brother luck, but he turned away. To Rhiannon with his stubborn pride!

A trumpet shattered the stillness and Neste's heart leaped. She and the other racers stopped circling and flew toward tall poles tipped with red flags. Aidan stayed well away from his sister. Evenly aligned, the five racers crossed the line marked by the flags. Then the race began.

Llawen's chest and shoulders heaved as she increased speed. Neste curled low over her neck and almost disappeared between the upswept silver wings on either side of her. Isabella had plaited the dark gray mane to keep it out of Neste's eyes. She sighted along the mare's neck, her eyes at the same elevation as Llawen's. Neste's legs gripped the horse so they wouldn't interfere with powerful wingstrokes.

Alis and Beka fell behind early, out of Neste's focus. Aidan pulled up next to her. His cream-colored mare flew strongly. Neste turned to look over Llawen's neck. Robert rode a length behind her, his horse's nose whipped by Llawen's tail. Neste urged her mare to greater speed as she approached the finish line, marked much like the start. She told herself just another competitor threatened her lead, not her brother. With tremendous effort, Llawen pulled ahead.

Aidan stayed with her though, and his mare stretched her neck as far as she could. She was a valiant little thing, dainty but strong. Her wings beat faster than Llawen's. Just before the finish, Aidan urged her forward. They shot past Llawen to beat her by a nose.

Disappointment and exhilaration shot through Neste. Marc wouldn't be thrilled with a second place finish, but he wouldn't yell. And her brother had won his first race ever! What a great start to the Games for him. She almost burst with pride as she heard the cheers erupt from the crowd. She joined Alis, Beka, and Robert as they waved to acknowledge Aidan's victory. He didn't respond with his own wave, a show of good sportsmanship that Aidan's barn leader would have to teach him. Neste patted her horse's sweaty gray neck and circled over her barn. She watched a smiling official drape a wreath of flowers over Aidan's mare. His horse swiveled her ears and snorted.

"Congratulations, my boy," the judge announced in a stentorian voice. "First points of the Games awarded to Stefan's barn."

Aidan bowed his head and thanked the judge very professionally. He galloped into a takeoff and turned the mare into a victory loop that flew low in front of the crowd.

Neste landed near her barn, but no riders ran to greet her. She dismounted and removed her helmet. Her braid swung free. Isabella ran up to take Llawen's rein and give her a molasses treat. Marc waited by the barn door. Neste approached slowly. The barn leader put a sympathetic hand on Neste's shoulder. "It's all right, Neste. We can't win them all, and a second place finish is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Did you see it was Aidan who won?" she asked. She smiled with pride in spite of her defeat.

"Na, I didn't. Good for him!"

Neste's disappointment took over. "I'm so sorry, Marc. Maybe I didn't work as hard as I should have to prepare for this one. We spent so much time on the group dance..."

"I know, I know. And you spent a lot of time working with Adam, which I appreciate. We'll just have to win that dance tomorrow. Without that victory, we have no chance to beat Morgan."

"Yes, syr, I will fly my best."

She entered the barn and let the dimness soothe her. Hoel waited outside Llawen's stall. Inside, Neste could hear Isabella as she cooed to the mare and brushed the sweat out of her coat.

"I'm so sorry," Neste said to Hoel.

He took her in his arms. "I really wish you'd won the race. There's a lot of pressure on us now for the dance tomorrow."

"I know, Hoel, and I'm so sorry." She tried to keep tears out of her voice.

He took a deep breath. "It's all right. We have worked hard to perfect the most spellbinding dance ever performed. Of course we'll win. Join me for dinner at midday?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to watch the rest of the races with me?"

He was trying to be nice. She smiled, but shook her head. "Na, I'd rather be alone."

He shrugged and joined the riders who stood along the edge of the cliff, the perfect vantage point to watch the races. Neste couldn't join in as they bantered and cheered. She didn't want her loss to plunge her into despair, but she couldn't laugh and joke with the others, either. She walked up the grassy hill and tried to find a spot to watch the rest of the races. A handful of riders from other barns had claimed most of the open space. She was just about to give up and return to the barn when she spotted Adam waving at her.

"Over here, Neste!" He smiled and beckoned.

"Coming!" She skirted a group of riders clad in black and joined Adam. "Oh, you have a good view!"

Adam, however, was not looking at the view. "Neste, I'm so proud of your placement in the race!"

Confused, Neste searched his shining eyes. "I didn't win."

"But you placed second! You certainly didn't lose."

His grin was infectious, and she laughed. Second place might be better than Adam had ever achieved. He was proud of her. Her heart sang. "Oh, Adam, I appreciate your support so much."

"Na, Neste, thanks for your support. It means so much to me!" To her surprise, Adam enveloped her in a hug that almost prevented her from drawing breath. It also started a tingle inside her. Adam drew away and smiled at her with such warmth in his eyes Neste drew a ragged breath. Even the thought of Hoel's frown couldn't erase the pleasure Adam's hug gave her.

The spell was broken as the group around them shifted and riders from other barns came by to commiserate with her, shaking their heads over the close loss. She smiled and bragged about her brother's first victory. The others laughed and agreed that if you had to lose a race, it was best to lose to a family member.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of cheering and good-natured teasing. Two of Marc's riders won their races, and Neste was hoarse from screaming by the time she finally left the warm place next to Adam and walked down the hill. On the way, she unwound her braid and fluffed her hair with her fingers until it fell in tousled waves over her shoulders. Humming and smiling, she headed for the tavern in town.

Inside, a fire blazed in the hearth and people chatted in excited conversations at the tables. Townspeople, barn people, and patrons mingled here. Everyone came here for ale, simple food, and companionship. Hoel waited for her at a table in the back, no smile on his face. As she slipped into place beside him on the wooden bench, he lifted his mug of ale in salute.

The bar maid brought a mug of ale for Neste, then returned with a platter of sliced cheese and a meat pie.

"To victory tomorrow," Hoel said, serving her some pie.

"Let's drink to Aidan's victory today," she suggested.

He shrugged. "Good for him. He did well in his first race." He sipped his ale. "Two wins this morning in other races helped encourage the barn."

Neste nodded. "Phelip and Catrin raced well."

"The mid-length races have always been our strong point, so we should do well tomorrow morning. With strong riders in the endurance races later in the week, we are in a good position. If we win the group dance tomorrow, we should have enough points to beat Morgan."

"I'll be glad to contribute to the barn's success and erase the stain of today's loss." She took a bite of the savory pie and searched Hoel's eyes. "Have you decided if you'll let Adam ride?"

Hoel hesitated. Neste leaned across the table and clutched his hand.

"Please, cariad, I know he can do it."

"It's against my better judgment, but I'll trust you. He'll fly."

"Oh, diolch!" Neste let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You won't regret it. He'll get stronger and stronger."

"This year is a foundation," Hoel said, leaning toward her. "We will all get stronger, creating a barn that will dominate the Games for years to come."

He continued to speak of the horses he would breed to develop dancers and racers, but Neste's attention wandered. Hoel's dark eyes illuminated his words. Dreams of greatness wreathed his face in passionate excitement. This was the Hoel she loved, the visionary. When he came down off his cloud, though, he sometimes had trouble getting others to climb up there with him.

He paused for breath, and she put her hand on his arm. "You have wondrous plans for the barn, cariad."

His excitement dimmed. "It's such a long way off, though."

"You'll get there. It's a goal worth working for."

"I know, Neste, I know. But my father thwarts me. If he would just stand down, I know I could lead the barn to greatness."

"It's hard to wait, but you must."

"Thank Rhiannon I have you." He looked at her with warmth and love.

They ate their food and sipped their ale while Hoel planned the barn's future. Neste basked in his love and approval. She wanted to order more food to prolong the moment, but she had to find a place to watch Elen's pairs dance. When they finished eating, Hoel and Neste walked back to the barn together.

At the door, Hoel took his leave. "We have two pairs in the dances this afternoon. I'd better go make sure they are ready."

Neste waved him away with a smile. She walked around the barn and headed back up the grassy hill. A few horses soared lazily over the barns. Competition would resume with the pairs dance. Neste settled herself on the grass to watch. Other riders gathered on the hill, but this time she preferred to be alone.

A trumpet fanfare announced the beginning of the dances, and the sky emptied. The first pair took their positions, and the band began to play. Neste knew more about the timing required in a group dance than the grace required of a pairs dance. Nonetheless, she knew this first pair flew pretty rough.

Four pairs flew their routines before Morgan and Elen took their places in the air. Neste cheered for her friend even though she knew Elen couldn't hear her. As the music started, Neste clasped her hands to her face and held her breath. Almost immediately, the dance enthralled her. So caught up in the beauty of the movement, she almost forgot it was her friend up there. The two horses flew as if they belonged together, part of the same being. Neste held her breath in wonder. When the last note faded away down the valley, tears of joy splashed from Neste's eyes.

It didn't matter what the next pair did, Neste could only see Morgan and Elen. After all the dancers had performed, the sky cleared. Neste pictured the judges in their tent as they compared scores and argued points. Sometimes it took a long time to declare a winner. Not today, though. In a matter of minutes, Morgan and Elen took to the sky with victory wreaths around their horses' necks. Neste clapped her hands in delight. Tonight they would celebrate Elen's victory!

***

The first day of the Aerial Games came to a close after the pairs dances. Spectators trailed off to their homes or to the tavern. Patrons shared pints of ale at the tavern and boasted of their barn's successes. Neste walked through the gathering dusk to the fountain, eager to congratulate Elen. Merchant tents around the fountain had been laced up tightly for the night, but she could still smell the warm sweetness of berry pies. Even though her stomach still tensed over her loss, it rumbled in appreciation. She did like berry pies. Marc's barn had supped together, as they traditionally did on the first night of the Games. Marc had announced that the overall points placed his barn even with Morgan's at the end of the first day. The riders cheered and lifted their mugs to toast each other.

Relieved that her loss hadn't plunged the barn too low in the standings, Neste worried for tomorrow. If they won the group dance, they would surely win the Games. If they lost the dance, they couldn't possibly beat Morgan. Neste paced around the fountain as she played scenarios in her head of victory and loss, of Hoel pleased and angry. With a hand on stone Aer's rearing leg, she prayed to Rhiannon that Adam would shine tomorrow and tried not to think about her own flight.

Lost in her thoughts, time passed without her realizing. It grew quite dark, and Elen hadn't come. Neste frowned and walked toward Morgan's barn. She and Elen had met at the fountain every night since they'd become riders. Neither of them had ever missed in those two years.

Morgan's barn and manor were ablaze with lanterns. Neste could hear a stringed instrument and voices raised in song. The barn celebrated. Morgan and Elen had won the pairs dance and probably announced their betrothal.

"Congratulations, fy cyfaill," Neste whispered. Everything was right in Elen's world.

Lonely, she turned and walked back past the dark fountain and down the lane to Marc's barn where silence reigned. The warmth of Adam's hug and smile clung to her heart, but her mind tried to focus on Hoel's smile of encouragement before her race.

Chapter 7: Dance

Just before the group dance event began, Neste walked down the barn to Llawen's stall, trying to convince herself it was just another practice day. Her tumbling stomach knew better. She worried about the details of the dance until the routine muddled in her head and she panicked, thinking she'd forget the whole thing. Then she entered Llawen's stall.

The mare tossed her head and snuffled in Neste's pocket for a molasses treat. Neste stroked the silky, gray neck and her confidence in Llawen banished doubts from her head.

Isabella led the mare from the stall and Neste followed them out to the yard. Adam stood rigid, staring at the sky and clutching Mallt's rein. Hoel leaned against Lleu and watched Adam, his lip curled in disgust. The other two riders in their group followed Neste out of the barn.

In the sky, the first group dance responded to the band's fanfare and swooped into their opening. Neste heard the music but refused to look up. It would only make her nervous. "Adam, don't watch," she advised, putting her hand lightly on his arm. He ignored her. Hoel frowned, and Neste removed her hand. She tried to infuse more assurance into her words than she felt. "Be confident," she told Adam. "You're ready."

The music stopped, signaling their turn. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.

Hoel nodded to his riders, competition face in place. Fierce and focused, he led them toward the takeoff. As they'd practiced a thousand times, the five of them soared off the cliff as one unit and climbed to the correct altitude.

Neste's hands held the reins loosely; Llawen knew what to do. The powerful wings beat strongly. Below, the crowd cheered. Neste tuned them out, concentrating on the mare's ears. The music started and she guided Llawen into the opening sequence, gliding through the sky. The flight pattern unfolded as planned, the five horses all executing their moves perfectly. Neste couldn't relax yet. Not with the Humminghorse part coming up.

She placed Llawen in position and tried to breathe normally. The sorrel and bay swept into position above each of Neste's shoulders, just far enough so that Llawen's wings wouldn't tangle with their feet. "Oh, Rhiannon, help Adam," Neste muttered. Her eyes fastened on Mallt as the horse missed a beat. She flew next to the sorrel rather than above him. A few jerky wingstrokes brought her up, but not far enough. Neste forced herself to look forward as Mallt overcorrected and flew directly over Llawen. Neste couldn't see the mare now that Mallt hung above and behind her, but she could see the bay's legs as the horse and rider held position. The sorrel shied outward, but his rider corrected immediately. Mallt's shadow lurched toward the sorrel, and Neste felt the wind from her wings. She looked over her shoulder to check Mallt's height. To her horror, Mallt's front hoof kicked inches from her head.

Clutching Llawen's reins, Neste crouched along the mare's neck. With Neste out of her usual position, Llawen broke out of her hover. She lurched upward, and Neste tried to correct her, swinging her to the left away from Mallt. Mallt followed. Neste flattened herself as much as possible, but Mallt's wing stroked her back. On the next upstroke, Llawen's right wing caught Mallt's left. The horses leaned away, but the wings tangled. Neste frantically dodged Mallt's hooves. Llawen tossed her head back, the whites of her eyes showing panic. Any hope of saving the routine vanished. Now she had to save her horse.

"Hah, Llawen!" Neste shouted, and kicked the mare into forward speed.

Too late. Mallt dipped low, her hoof striking Llawen's rump just behind the saddle. Neste felt a glancing blow along her back as the mare above her pulled up her legs. Llawen twisted to see what attacked her, and Neste could only hang on as Mallt dropped beside her.

Adam's eyes were as wide as Llawen's, and his face white.

"Pull her away!" Neste yelled at him. But Adam froze, his hands tightening around the reins, signaling Mallt to fly toward them instead of away.

Mallt's body jolted into Llawen, who screamed in panic. Pressure increased on Neste's right leg, caught between the two horses. Pain shot up her leg and doubled when Neste felt a bone snap.

The horses' bodies separated, but the wings did not. Wind rushed by Neste's sweaty face as they lost altitude. Llawen twisted and bucked, kicking out at Mallt. Her one free wing continued to beat, but it wasn't enough. Neste clung to the mare's neck as they fell toward the ground, her right leg useless.

"Oh Rhiannon, save us! Llawen, it's only Mallt! Fly free, del, fly free!"

At the very last, Llawen turned on her side and bared her teeth to snap at Mallt. Four wings and eight legs fluttered and tangled around Neste's head. The force of impact as Llawen hit the ground jarred the wind out of Neste. Silence fell around them, muffling reality like a blanket of snow.

Awareness came slowly. Neste's cheek lay against sweaty horsehair. The mare lay on her side, Neste on top of her. Llawen's wing arched over her, turning the light silver. Pain shot up Neste's right leg. The rasping noises she heard were her own uneven breaths. Her right arm twisted underneath her body. Flexing her hand, she realized it was still tangled in the reins. Her neck could not lift her head. Then sound made its way into her brain.

She heard screaming. People running. Someone called to the goddess Rhiannon. Inside the circle of Llawen's silver wing, Neste felt removed from it all. Her immediate world held no sound or motion. Then the wing moved and the sun stabbed her eyes, but Llawen still hadn't moved.

"Llawen?" Neste knew she spoke the horse's name, but her ears heard only a louder rasp. "Llawen? Llawen?" It seemed important that she manage a recognizable version of the mare's name.

Hands touched her, and a voice. "Neste? Neste!"

"Hoel?" she whispered.

"Don't move, cariad, don't move."

She had no intention of moving unless she could alleviate the pain in her leg. Her head ached, and her left arm wasn't behaving correctly. "Llawen?"

"Don't try to talk, cariad."

Hoel's hands left her and more confident hands replace them. "Neste, where do you hurt?" Kenn spoke in a voice calm with experience and soothing in its familiarity.

"Leg." Neste couldn't manage more than single words, but her brain buzzed with confusion. Llawen remained still.

Carefully the hands shifted her body so she lay alongside the horse. With tingling needle pricks, feeling swept into her right arm, which had been caught under her body. She winced, but raised a hand to touch the horse. No muscles responded to her touch. Then someone lifted the horse and freed Neste's trapped leg. Many hands carried her to a wagon. They left Llawen lying on the ground. Tears leaked out of Neste's eyes. In any emergency, rescuers focused on the living. Everyone surrounded her. That meant Llawen...

"Oh, Rhiannon! Neste, I'm so sorry!" Adam's face appeared above her, contorted into grief.

Neste realized he had been calling to the goddess. The goddess who had not saved Llawen. "You all right? Mallt?" she managed.

"Fine, we're fine. Well, Mallt has some injuries. Not sure..."

His voice trailed off, but she had stopped listening after the first word. He'd caused the accident and he and Mallt were fine. Rhiannon had truly abandoned her.

The wagon trundled over the dirt road. Neste lay on her back, every jolt paining her. The sky above was blue and empty. Unable to cry or rage in anger, Neste concentrated on existing with part of her soul gone. Snatches of conversation drifted over her.

"Does she know?"

"Keep her comfortable."

"What will be done about him?"

"The other horse will make it."

Deciding she couldn't yet deal with living, Neste closed her eyes.

The wagon came to a stop after a grueling journey. Jostled by hands lifting her, Neste cried out in pain. Voices overlapped, the tone reassuring, then her own bed cradled her. Kenn's voice ordered plasters, splints, and bandages. Running feet hurried to fetch supplies. Then strong hands gripped her thigh and others held her down.

"Hold on, Neste, this will hurt," Kenn told her. He jerked her leg. She screamed and the world blackened.

Much later, Neste opened her eyes to the wooden planks of the ceiling above her bed. Far away, she could hear voices in the other room. The dim light in her room meant evening approached. She moved one arm then the other, flexing her hands. Beside her, clothing rustled. Marc leaned into view.

"Helo," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"What time is it?" she asked, and tried to sit up.

"Almost supper time. Don't sit up yet. You'll be sore."

Neste winced, already discovering the truth of his words. "How bad is it?"

"I know better than to hide it from you, Neste. You are badly bruised all over. Your right leg is broken. Not bad for such a fall." His eyes slid sideways so they wouldn't meet hers.

"And?"

He took a deep breath. "Llawen is gone. Her body broke your fall. You would have died otherwise."

Tears still would not come. Disconnected images of wings and legs flew through her head. "Mallt?"

"One wing is torn, and she's limping. She'll be out of commission this season, but will recover."

She took a deep breath. "And Adam?" Her treacherous voice shook.

Marc shifted his weight, pulling his chair closer to the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. Then he met her gaze and said, "He's not hurt. Mallt landed hard, but on her feet."

"He's not hurt," she repeated. Her brain soaked up the words, but her heart refused to listen. She focused on the cheerful white garlic flowers in the pewter tankard on her clothes chest and wondered if Elen knew of the accident yet. Marc's clothing rustled as he rose and left the room.

Not long after, Neste awoke from drowsy contemplation of the flowers. Loud voices argued in the front room.

"She will want to see me. Let me pass." Elen's imperious tone made Neste smile for the first time.

"She isn't taking visitors."

"I am not a visitor, Glynis, and you well know it. I want to see for myself how she's doing."

"Her leg is broken..." Her sister's voice remained firm, but Elen interrupted.

"Not her body, you fool, her soul. She's lost her horse! Who is soothing her?"

Glynis's snort of derision brought the first welling of tears in Neste's eyes. "What do any of us really know about that, Elen? Go back to your own barn and let us care for ours."

"You're making a mistake. You'll see."

Glynis didn't respond. Elen must have left, because silence descended once more. Neste slept.

She awakened a bit later when her door opened and Hoel entered. He still wore his blue and silver competition tunic.

"Mae'n ddrwg gen i, cariad. I'm so sorry to disturb you." His furrowed brow hid the flowers from view. "Glynis is with your mother, so I came on in."

Panic struck Neste. Her mother must be devastated that she couldn't be at Neste's bedside. Hoel stood up and paced the small room. Neste took a deep breath and tried to focus on the flowers, which seemed to be drooping.

Hoel punched the wall, the burst of violence catching Neste by surprise. "I'll kill him for this!"

Neste didn't respond. She knew he must mean Adam.

"His incompetence almost cost you your life, and we lost a fine horse. He's no rider and shouldn't be aboard one of our horses!"

Neste should apologize for insisting Adam be allowed to ride, should reassure Hoel by pointing out it was an accident, but she couldn't utter words that trivialized Llawen's death. For the first time she put the words together in a coherent thought. Tears that brimmed earlier now spilled. They poured down the sides of her face and puddled in her ears.

"I'll send that tanner's boy back to the shops if it's the last thing I do! The barn will be stronger for it!" Hoel paced closer to the bed.

Neste gasped for air, and her sobs caught Hoel's attention.

"Oh, cariad, please don't cry. Dw i'n dy garu di." The soft declaration of his love made her cry harder.

His hand, calloused from holding reins, smoothed her hair and wiped away tears, but once started Neste had to cry it out. Hoel sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her in his arms. Her cheek pressed against the wool of his tunic.

"Shhh, Neste, I'm here. My heart is breaking for you, but I don't know what to say. Nothing we have experienced prepares us for tragedy. I remember when my mother and her horse died. They retired and put her horse out to pasture. Remember how much Tangwystyl enjoyed running along the fence when she could no longer fly? My mother devoted the rest of her life to baking treats for the riders and their horses. Their deaths were natural, horse and rider, after a long well-lived life. We grieved, but we knew it was their time. This is different. We can't prepare for sudden tragedy, and it takes time to recover. So grieve, cariad, and know the whole barn grieves with you."

Neste cried until her chest hurt from sobbing, her eyes were swollen and red, and Hoel's tunic wet through. Exhausted, she clung to him. When her breathing returned to normal, he gently laid her down.

"I'll bring some tea and a cold cloth," he told her.

Once again alone, Neste took a deep breath. The flowers still drooped, but she no longer cared. Hoel had helped her realize she must accept the events of the day. She carefully sat up, wincing as her bruised body ached, and leaned back against her pillows. She felt more human in a sitting position.

Hoel returned. He wiped the tear streaks from her face, the delight of the cool cloth causing her to sigh. Then he held up a steaming cup.

"Glynis says there are healing herbs in here. A special tea for you. Can you hold it?"

She nodded. "Iawn, cariad. I have it. Diolch." She thanked him and held it in both hands, enjoying the soothing warmth of the mug. The unique scent of her father's tea tickled her nose. Tears threatened again, and she sipped the tea, swallowing hard. "Mmmm, tell Glynis it's wonderful."

"I'll leave you in peace now. Do you think you can sleep?" When she nodded, he continued, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Hoel." He stopped and pivoted to face her. "I can't tell you how much you mean to me. Thank you."

He crossed to the bed and leaned over, kissing her on the forehead. Then he left, closing the door gently behind him.

Exhausted by her tears and relaxed by the tea, Neste snuggled back into her bed and slept.

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Neste opened her eyes to gray daylight seeping in the window past the draperies. The mist made it hard to tell if morning or afternoon greeted her, but it made no difference. Her heart was empty either way. Clunking noises drew her attention toward the small table. The unmistakable black-cowled robe belonged to Kenn. He stirred something in a clay bowl, his back to her.

"Kenn?" Her voice rasped and she cleared her throat.

"Ah, you're awake. Good." His lined face smiled, but the usual sparkle in his eyes was gone. He approached the bed and held a cup to her lips. "Drink a little water first."

Neste sipped. "Diolch." She moved an arm under her, trying to sit up, but muscles in her arm, torso, and hip ached. She winced and sank back onto the pillows.

"Na, don't move," Kenn warned her. "Elen sent a flower. White garlic is it?" He nodded toward the pewter tankard. Another white flower had been tucked into the small bouquet. Neste nodded as Kenn continued. "Your leg has been set, but it needs to heal. The bone did not poke through the skin, so there is no wound to infect. That's good. The leeches have been applied to your good leg to draw harmful humors away from the injury." He went back to his bowl, muttering more to himself than Neste. "Sanguine humors appear to be dominant. That makes sense. No phlegm or yellow bile, so fire and water are in balance. Good, good."

Neste stopped listening. Kenn had taken away the blanket so he could examine her injuries. Someone, hopefully Glynis, had stripped her of competition clothes and put her in a clean shift. She pulled it further over her stomach. Her right leg felt heavy. She couldn't move it and knew she shouldn't try. Kenn put a cold compress on the leg, pressing firmly.

The door opened and Glynis came in. "Kenn, can I get you some dinner? Oh, Neste, you're awake."

"I'm fine, diolch." Neste grimaced, well aware her sister hadn't asked. She looked at the white garlic flowers and wondered if Elen had tried to visit during the morning. If Glynis offered dinner, it was early afternoon.

"Soreness will ease by tomorrow," Kenn promised her. "No wine for her, Glynis. A restorative tea with tisane will help the pain. Small meals for a few days. Give her a simple broth for dinner today."

Glynis nodded and left the room without another word to Neste.

"Kenn? Did Elen come by?"

His face hovered over her again, frowning. "No, she stayed outside in the lane. She met me coming up the walk and gave me the flower. She said you'd appreciate it."

Neste's brow furrowed. "Oh, I do. Glynis wouldn't let her in yesterday."

Kenn had finished discussing visitors. He'd imparted his instructions and made ready to leave. "Tomorrow we can give you a crutch and get you out of that bed. You'll feel some pain, but it will be bearable."

Neste nodded. Her first walk would be to her mother's room. Mum must be worried.

Kenn left, and Glynis came in with tea and broth. She set them on the table Kenn had just emptied and pulled it close enough to the bed that Neste could reach it.

"Glynis, why did you send Elen away? You know we're friends."

Her sister pursed her lips. "Elen was a childhood friend. It's time you moved on to the adult world." Neste must have looked confused. Glynis went on, "Yesterday Hoel asked me to keep her away. Your duty is to your future husband."

"Hoel asked you?" Neste repeated, stunned. Hoel must have heard of Elen's betrothal to Morgan. "If she comes again, Glynis, please let her in."

Her sister's face turned to stone. "Da wanted you to marry Hoel. How can you even think about changing his wishes?"

Confused, Neste shook her head. "How am I changing his wishes?"

"If you anger Hoel, he'll break the betrothal."

Neste almost laughed. Hoel would do no such thing. If anyone broke the betrothal it would be her. Laughter died. Hoel cared for her. Adam caused the accident.

"I will continue to do what he says with regard to your care. That means no visit from Elen."

Glynis was as stubborn as Hoel. It didn't matter. Once she got used to the crutches, Neste could visit Elen at the fountain. She said nothing more.

Satisfied, Glynis left the room.

Neste sipped her tea. The broth smelled wonderful, and tasted even better. After a few spoonfuls, the door opened once more. Adam stood nervously in the doorway. He smoothed his blonde hair with his hand. His other hand held his cap. Stunned, Neste could only stare at him.

Adam's words tumbled out of his mouth. "Uh, How are you doing? I mean I thought I'd stop by... are you all right? Look I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you. Or Llawen. I didn't mean to hurt her."

Still staring, Neste said nothing. She tried to put herself in Adam's place. He knew he didn't have the skill to fly the complicated dance. She was the one who'd begged Hoel to let him. He'd panicked, though, and allowed disaster to occur. She certainly wasn't going to forgive him for that. The silence between them grew awkward.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. He looked and sounded like a small child caught doing something wrong. "Mae'n ddrwg gen i."

Neste almost laughed, incredulous. She often tried to use Welsh to make things better, and she knew it didn't work. Reflecting on the uselessness of apologies, she said, "And that makes it all better?"

Adam dropped his eyes to the floor. Both hands twisted his cap. "Na, it doesn't. I know that."

"It's not even my injury," Neste said. As she spoke, her words got louder. "It's the nerve you have, coming here and thinking that a few words could replace Llawen's life. Or those words could be a salve to your conscience. I know you don't feel the same about Mallt, but Llawen was a part of me." Emotion ran so high, Neste ran out of appropriate words.

Adam looked up, his face pale. "I'm..."

Nest interrupted, "Don't say it again."

Adam flushed. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and slipped out the door.

Neste's body shook with emotion. She forced herself to take slow deep breaths until her fury abated. Even so, every time she thought about Adam's visit, rage boiled. How could she ever have been attracted to a pretty, little boy who couldn't take responsibility?

"Did you have a nice visit from your friend?" Glynis asked as she breezed into the room, her voice in the same tone she used to cheer Mum. Assuming a pleasant response, Glynis gathered the dishes from Neste's dinner.

"He's not my friend," Neste growled. "He caused the accident. I never want to see him again. He has no business in a barn or aboard a horse. Hoel should banish him from Tremeirchson." Inexplicably, she burst into tears.

Startled, Glynis stared.

"What's the matter?" Neste gasped through her tears. "That is exactly Hoel's sentiment. You should be thrilled I agree with him."

Glynis didn't respond. She hurried from the room.

Neste seethed with anger and sobbed with grief. Images poured through her head of Adam being banished, from barn, from town, from all winged horses forever. Eventually the anger spun out of her head. Llawen was gone. With her went the thrill of flight, competition, and the camaraderie of riders, as well as any flirtation with Adam. Now she was only Hoel's betrothed. If he still wanted her. She cried until her eyes emptied her body of tears, then lay spent against the pillows, staring at Elen's white flowers.

Without Llawen, her life had no purpose. Neste was of the air, a dreamer like Elen, and now she had no wings, no reason for existing. She would spend the rest of her life watching Hoel fly Lleu and Adam fly Mallt.

The world outside her window darkened as night approached. Glynis brought supper, but she hurried in and out without saying a word. Neste ate a few bites, knowing she had to build her strength, but she tasted nothing. She tossed and turned until her window grayed with dawn once more. Today, she vowed, she would get out of here. She could no longer lie here steeped in anger and grief. She must find something to keep her busy, something else to worry about.

As if in answer to her prayers, the door opened. Kenn came in, looking harried. He checked Neste's leg, but his face didn't relax.

"It's not getting better?" she asked.

"Na, na, it's healing well but still early." Clearly distracted, his eyes met hers, then looked down. Neste waited for him to tell her what bothered him. "I brought a crutch. Practice walking, just in the house."

Neste nodded, still watching his eyes. He wouldn't look at her as he fetched the crutch from the hallway.

Kenn helped Neste into a sitting position. Her sore body protested, but she gritted her teeth against the pain. Kenn helped her to stand and slipped the crutch under her right arm. Tentatively, Neste put weight on her right leg, heavy with the splint. If she clenched her teeth, she might be able to do this. Kenn looked anxious, wringing his hands and scowling.

"It'll be all right," Neste said, wishing strength into her voice. She hobbled toward the door. "I'll visit Mum and come back."

When she entered her mother's room, Mum looked pleased but worried to see Neste. "Cariad, are you sure you're ready to be up and about?"

Kenn stepped into the room behind Neste. "It's a simple fracture. Soldiers on a battlefield keep fighting with injuries like this."

Neste grimaced. "No wonder they yell and hit things." She perched on the bed and forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mum. How are you today?"

"Worried about my youngest daughter," she said with a frown.

Neste picked up a softly bound leather book lying next to her mother. "Kenn, did you bring this?"

"It's my Book of Hours. I hope it will give you and your mother some hours of pleasure." His words attempted humor, but his brow still furrowed over anxious eyes. "My father wrote it. Flowers were one of his special interests."

"Should I read to you, Mum?" Neste opened the precious book, grateful that her father had insisted all his children learn to read and write. Illustrations of flowers covered the pages, surrounded by cramped script. Neste peered closely at it. Descriptions of the flowers, their medicinal uses, and even legends about them surrounded the pictures.

Her mother lay back and closed her eyes. "I would love to hear the sound of your voice, cariad."

Kenn inched toward the door. "You'll be all right getting back to your room, Neste?"

"Diolch, Kenn, iawn. I'll be fine. Mum, here's a story about heather mead. After a war between tribes only two Picts remained, a father and son, who knew the secret recipe for this drink. The victors tried to force the father to tell the recipe by putting his son to death. This pleased the father because his son, being young, might have been more easily forced to reveal the secret."

As Neste read, Kenn slipped out of the room.

After a few pages of flower lore, Neste closed the book and lay it on the bed. Her mother's sharp eyes that never missed anything watched and waited. Neste took a deep breath. "Mum, I'm an air person without wings."

"Cariad, are you sure?"

"Llawen is gone." Neste couldn't believe her mother had forgotten.

"Oh, I know, I know. Being an air person is not the same thing as being a rider. Your brother Niall is air, and he lives in Merioneth. An air person surrounds themselves with dreams. Everything they think about is set in a rosy future. Many air people become riders, but many of them are in the clouds only in their mind."

"I didn't know that," Neste said, but she knew her mother was right. Niall had always had big dreams. As children, they would pretend they were riding flying horses and stage mock competitions. For Neste, it was always about the present competition. Niall, on the other hand, had dreamed of a dynasty. They'd laughed at him.

"Your sister, now, is earth," Mum continued. "Sometimes I feel guilty that she must wait on me like I'm a fine lady, but that's her nature. She's nurturing, likes to care for life and watch it grow. I am the same." Her eyes strayed to the window and the colorful flowers in her garden. "An earth person's garden, or children, are as important to them as an air person's dreams."

Neste considered each of her brothers. "Cadoc must be earth. He hammers iron all day with the blacksmith."

"Iron is earth," her mother agreed. "But think about how Cadoc become apprenticed to the blacksmith. Did he long for it like Aidan longed for the sky?"

"I don't think so." Neste tried to remember. Da had planned to see each of his children settled when they were very small. Had he pushed Cadoc into something he didn't want?

"Your littlest brother always wanted what his older brothers and sisters had. When he played with Glynis, he wanted to work in the garden. When he spent time with Niall or Aidan, he dreamed of grand adventures."

"He used to pretend to be injured when I practiced how to use herbs," Neste said.

"Cadoc is a classic water person. He's flexible, able to throw himself wholeheartedly into whatever is in front of him."

"But what about me?" Neste asked. "If I'm not air..."

Her mother didn't answer.

Neste thought about how guilty she felt leaving Glynis to care for their mother alone. Neste also loved flowers, and had given one to Elen. Most of all, she enjoyed healing. Horse and people benefitted from her care. "Could I be earth?"

Mum smiled and reached out a hand to pat Neste's arm. "Cariad, you must find your own balance. Everyone is a blend of earth, air, and water. Your father was the most balanced person I know. He tried so hard to encourage you children to explore lives that would balance your strengths."

"So he thought being a rider would balance my water and earth," Neste mused. "Oh, I wish he hadn't left us!"

"Niall went to Merioneth to work with Lord Farley's horses—nurturing to balance the dreams. Yet now he is a scribe who advises the lord on matters pertaining to Tremeirchson. He follows dreams. Aidan is the only one who resisted your father's efforts and became a rider, soothing his air. But Aidan is typical of those who don't seek to strengthen their weaker sides. He is totally unable to communicate with anyone who doesn't share his dreams. It gets in the way of his ability to live a full, rich life."

"That's why he never waves at me when I see him." Somehow her brother knew she wasn't air before she did. "You've given me much to think about, Mum."

"And what about your heart? Is it whole?"

Neste hesitated. "Hoel stood by me after Adam almost killed me." She shook her head. "I can't love someone who panics in a dangerous situation, but I can love someone who steps up to take charge in the aftermath."

Mum nodded, patted Neste's hand, and smiled, her eyes tired.

Neste stood and arranged the crutches under her arms. Biting her lip to hide the pain from her mother, she hobbled back to her own room. Once more propped against her pillows, Neste reflected on her mother's words. The old religion based on elements had been overcome in most of the country. Christians brought new ideas. In the mountains, though, many people still followed Rhiannon and the three horse gods, Aer, Ystrad, and Alon—Air, Earth, and Water. Neste had always been too wrapped up in Llawen to think about balancing elements. When she thought of people who were passionate about dreams, or nurturing children, she realized they were not people she enjoyed visiting. The last element, fire, related to passion. Passion, like fire, was dangerous when it raged out of control.

Tired from too much thinking and aching from her short walk, Neste closed her eyes. Floating between reality and dreams seemed to be the best place to be. She didn't have to think, didn't have to make decisions, didn't have to remember.

***

After eating the supper Glynis brought her, Neste wondered if she could walk all the way to the fountain to meet Elen. Her friend most likely hadn't been there last night after the accident, but maybe she'd attempt to meet Neste tonight. Neste waited until Glynis was busy cleaning up after supper in the kitchen. Slowly, with a great deal of pain, she worked her body off the bed and stood, leaning heavily on the crutch.

As she moved down the hallway with a great deal of scraping and thumping, Neste hoped her mother was asleep. Panting with exertion, she crossed the great room and struggled with the heavy oak door. Sweat dripped into her eyes and slicked her hands, making it difficult to hold the crutch. When she reached the broken front gate, Neste admitted defeat.

She slumped against the gate post and whacked the gate with her crutch. Something fell off the gate. Curious, Neste crouched on her good leg and picked it up. A white garlic flower. Elen had been there. Neste smiled and held the stem in her good hand as she struggled back into the house.

Elen the dreamer didn't really care about her earth skills. Neste knew her friend cared for the plant because it was important to Neste. For the same reason, Elen had placed the flower on the gate when Neste didn't make it to the fountain. She slipped the flower into the tankard in her room and fell into bed.

Chapter 9: Despair

It took two more days for Neste to reach a point where she longed for the barn. Her bruising healed enough for the pain to subside, and her thoughts ranted about her uselessness as she lay in bed. In Tremeirchson, the Aerial Games continued without her. Every day Hoel visited, full of news about his own races and accomplishments. Neste didn't know how well the barn scored against Morgan, and she didn't want to ask.

Kenn came by every day, too, but his visits were shorter. He checked her leg and advised exercise, leaving her an additional crutch to help her move around better. He looked at Neste with eyes that worried about something else. Yesterday she'd asked him if someone had taken ill.

He'd looked at her with furrowed brow. "Ill? Na, no one is ill. The entire town is the picture of health!"

She didn't believe him.

Today, without a word to anyone, she would make her way to the barn. Worst case, her pain would increase and she'd tell Glynis how to fix a tea to help her sleep without dreams. Lately all her dreams had been nightmares of lying helpless while life bustled around her.

She knew she could easily manage three trips around the small house and estimated the distance to the barn as equal to five of those trips. She rose early, struggled into a wide skirt and tunic, and set out without waking Glynis. If she wanted to accomplish this without sympathy, she'd have to reach the barn before the trumpet fanfare that announced the last day of the Aerial Games. Streets filled with townspeople and spectators would hinder her progress.

Just as the sun peeked over the cliffs, Neste swung through the broken gate on her crutches. At first she moved quickly, but the uneven dirt lane was harder to navigate than the smoother wooden floors of the house. She tired faster than she'd predicted, but determination pushed her onward as she refused to be found halfway to the barn, crying in a heap of failure. Swing the crutches, hop with the good leg. One step at a time.

Drenched with sweat, as if she'd finished a grueling dance drill, Neste breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived at the barn. The big double doors were open, and two winged horses waited in the yard. She watched Rhiryd's gait as his groom led him from the barn, pleased to see the ankle stronger despite the stress of competition landings and takeoffs.

At the door, she stopped to catch her breath. Inside, Llawen's stall would be empty. Neste told herself she'd been in the barn many times before Llawen had been born. The mare and the barn were separate. Nonetheless, her heart mourned. She sank onto a wooden bench next to the doorway and leaned against the weathered wall. She'd made it here. She'd go inside in a minute. Her right leg throbbed in agreement. She felt something in her pocket, and put a hand in. Pulling out a broken molasses treat, tears welled. She crumpled it, letting the crumbs fall to the ground.

Phelip hurried out of the barn to take Rhiryd from his groom. He glanced at Neste and stopped, his mouth open. "Neste, welcome." His voice was more curious than welcoming. He shifted his weight from one foot to another and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I guess I'd better go." He led Rhiryd toward the takeoff point.

It was worse with the others. They must have seen her from far off because as they passed her their eyes were always directed away—to the sky, or the yard, or their hands. Never to Neste, sitting on the bench with her splinted leg sticking out in front of her and the crutches leaning against the barn. No one knew what to say to her. Neste sighed.

"Get out there and on your horse! The day will open any minute, and you must be ready!"

Reassuringly normal, Hoel's shout split the air and Neste grinned. Normal was good. A rider rushed past Neste in a blur of motion, spurred by Hoel. For once it wasn't Adam. Her grin faded. Would she have to see him fly today? No, Mallt's wing was still mending. She swallowed and pursed her lips. No one had promised this would be easy.

Hoel appeared in the doorway. He stood with his hands on his hips, legs straight, and surveyed his world. For a moment, Neste watched him. His blue and silver tunic fit well over the blue wool pants and emphasized his tall, wiry build. It looked like his brown hair had developed a few more gray streaks in the last couple of days. Then he noticed her.

Immediately, he dropped to one knee in front of her and concern rippled over his face. "Cariad? Did you come here on your own?"

She nodded. A silly smile spread over his face, of pride mingled with love. She felt an answering grin split her own face.

"You're all right?" She nodded again, and he squeezed her shoulder. "How brave and strong of you. Enjoy the morning. Don't worry, I'll have someone take you back in the wagon."

Her smile faded. In the wagon? The wagon that had carted her broken body home? The wagon that no doubt had been Llawen's last transport? Again she swallowed and forced out the words. "I will. Now go see your barn off."

He beamed at her suggestion that he led the barn.

The opening fanfare echoed through the air, and the familiar bustle moved around her. It felt odd to be apart from it, but better to be here watching than home despairing. When the first of the long-distance racers were in the air, Neste decided to enter the barn. Hoel had disappeared. No doubt he hovered in Marc's office going over points and placements. She stood up and positioned the crutches under her arms. Taking small steps, she moved through the doorway.

The dim interior of the barn covered her like a warm blanket on a cold night. Riders who weren't competing stood in a group near the door. They watched her but didn't say anything. Grooms disappeared into stalls as she made her way down the barn. The sun streamed in through high windows, and lanterns lit the main aisle. It was normal, and it was home. Why then were tears rolling unchecked down her face?

Neste gritted her teeth to keep from sobbing. Then she arrived outside Llawen's stall. Empty. The stall door latched open. No halter hung on the nail beside the door, and no silver head with perked ears turned toward her expecting a treat. Someone had swept away the straw on the floor and emptied the water trough. Her brain told her no horse had ever lived here. Her heart knew otherwise.

"Neste?" Isabella's voice belonged here.

Neste turned to greet the groom. Isabella's face echoed her tragedy. Neste felt the tears start down her cheeks again, and she was powerless to stop them. Isabella stepped forward and wrapped Neste in a hug. They cried together until Neste forced herself under control. She balanced on her good leg and held both crutches in her left hand while she wiped her tears with her right.

"How are you holding up?" Neste managed to ask.

"Well enough. Every day is a reminder." She hesitated, but Neste nodded encouragement. "I'm keeping busy. During the Games there's plenty to do."

The unspoken followup would ask about after the Games. What then?

"I found a molasses treat in my pocket," she told the groom.

Pain etched Isabella's face. "I fed my entire stash to Mallt. I can't bear to have them in my pockets."

"I'm glad you're here today, Isabella," Neste said. "You were important to Llawen, and you are to me." Her voice didn't even break on the mare's name.

"I feel so useless," Isabella moaned.

Neste put a hand on the groom's arm in sympathy. "Don't I know that feeling. Foals will be born in the spring and Marc will need new grooms." Even as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. It would be no easier for Isabella to move on to another horse than it would be for Neste to ride another one.

"Neste..." Isabella broke off, then must have changed her mind about whatever she was going to say. Shaking her head, she walked up the barn in the direction Neste had come.

Neste continued toward Marc's office. A groom without a horse could always find another. Riders, though, seldom received another mount. So the question remained. What would an unhorsed rider do? She could leave the barn, but when she married Hoel she could hardly remain separate. Maybe Hoel would change his mind and want a rider for a wife. He'd release her from the betrothal, then what? Neste shook these thoughts out of her head. She couldn't allow speculation to control her.

She smiled at riders and grooms, and they smiled back. Soon they'd talk to her again, once they figured out there were topics other than Llawen to discuss.

Low voices came from Marc's office, Hoel's and the barn leader's, a nice change from the yelling.

"Lord Farley bemoans the loss of a good horse," Marc said.

"Did he ask about its rider?" Hoel asked in a tight voice.

"Na."

Neste shook her head. The patron's lack of good will meant nothing. She hobbled to the doorway.

Marc's chair faced her direction, and he rose to welcome her as she came into view. "Neste? Croeso."

Hoel turned and smiled. "Cariad, sit here." He vacated the chair next to the desk.

Neste sat, and Hoel took the crutches, leaning them against the wall.

"You walked down here on your own?" Marc asked. "Good for you."

Neste smiled. "I couldn't lie in bed any longer. It does feel odd to be here with nothing to do, though."

"There's time enough for that when you're healed," Marc assured her. "We've been going over the points for the Games."

Neste could have predicted that based on the tousled appearance of Marc's hair. He'd run his hand over it so many times it resembled a prickly bush. "How does it stand?" she asked, even though she knew the answer before he spoke.

"We'll not beat Morgan this year," he admitted.

Hoel's lips pressed into a grimace. "He's well ahead. This is the last day of competition and only two races left."

Neste nodded. No one mentioned the biggest blow to the barn points—losing the group dance. Not that anyone had told Neste of a loss, but how could you win when two of your competitors fell from the sky? No one could pass that off as part of the routine. "If only I'd tried harder with Adam." Oh, Rhiannon! She hadn't meant to say that aloud!

"He was a lost cause long before that," Hoel said.

Marc just shook his head, his eyes tragic. "We gain nothing by discussing the past again and again. We need to move on, to heal."

"Iawn, syr, I agree." Neste hesitated, then continued, "I wish I knew how to move on. I mean, what is there for a rider with no horse to do? Maybe I should leave the barn, help Glynis care for Mum."

"Leave the barn?" Hoel repeated. His eyes widened and his jaw hung open.

"I will not consider that," Marc declared. "You are an important part of this barn, Neste."

"Today I'm just in the way."

Hoel hastened to reassure her. "When you can walk without crutches, you'll move easier and won't feel that way."

How sweet of him to say so. She'd never felt helpless before, but it didn't feel temporary. She debated whether to say so, but the arrival of a rider saved her from responding. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized Adam.

Adam's jaw dropped when he saw Neste, and he stammered, "Uh, I came to talk...uh...can I speak...I have something to say."

Hoel rolled his eyes.

Marc nodded. "Must be why you stopped by."

Adam flushed bright as a nimberry. His eyes flicked to Neste then away.

Neste could feel the storm of accusation on her face and did nothing to mask it.

Adam tried again. "I wish to leave..." He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "I'm leaving the barn."

Neste gasped, but Hoel's snort of laughter covered it.

Marc ignored both of them. He folded his hands before him on the desk and leaned forward, a concerned expression on his face. "That's untraditional," he said. "What brought you to this decision?"

Adam glanced at Hoel and Neste, then focused on Marc. "You know as well as I that this life is not for me. It's not fair to the rest of you..." His eyes slid to Neste. "...if I remain. I'll gather my things and be gone before the closing ceremony."

"And what about Mallt?" Hoel challenged him. "You just abandon her when she's injured?"

"The groom is better with her than I."

"The groom has a name," Hoel said, still challenging.

Adam would not be cowed. He'd made his decision and communicated it to his barn leader.

Before he could respond, Neste leaned forward. "What will you do, Adam?" she asked bluntly.

"My father will take me back." His chin jutted out as if anticipating someone pointing out how often he'd said he couldn't be a tanner.

Marc stood. "Go with my blessing, Adam, and good luck to you."

Adam scooted out of the doorway.

Marc, Hoel, and Neste exchanged looks.

"Good riddance," Hoel muttered.

"I don't think I can ever forgive him," Neste said, shaking her head. "I believed in him when no one else would."

"I feel as if I've let him down somehow, but I'll be darned if I can see how I could have done better." Marc looked upset. Neste couldn't tell if he felt like a failure or regretted Adam's defection.

The pain in Neste's leg throbbed even though she still sat. "I think I'd better get home," she said. "Can someone take me in the wagon?" Her voice shook as she asked, but she knew she'd never manage the walk back.

"I will," Hoel promised. He helped her stand and position her crutches under her arms.

"Rest up, Neste," Marc admonished her as she inched out of the office. "The barn is too empty without you."

Neste wondered what he expected her to do with a broken leg and no horse to fly. "I will, barn leader," she promised.

Hoel helped her into the aisle. Adam walked toward them, a bundle slung over one shoulder, his other arm around Isabella.

Neste stopped and stared.

"I'm sorry, Neste. I tried to tell you," Isabella said. "Adam and I have been promised a room behind the tannery." She blushed as she looked up at Adam and smiled. Neste realized she'd been so wrapped up in her flirtation that she'd never seen any relationship between these two. Although she had no right, she felt betrayed.

"Good luck, Isabella." Neste refused to look at Adam, refused to wish him well, and didn't look after them as they left the barn.

As she stood there with Hoel, still reeling with implications from the brief encounter, Kenn hurried up. "Oh, Neste, I'm glad you're still here."

Still here? The riders must be talking about her presence in the barn. "Helo, Kenn," she said warmly. "I made it down here on my own but need a ride to get home." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Kenn was too preoccupied to even ask about her leg. Neste could see dark shadows under his eyes, and he rubbed his neck before he spoke. "Could you give me some advice before you leave? About a winged horse? I really don't have a lot of experience with their injuries. I could use your expertise."

"Of course. What is the problem?" This must be what had been worrying him. If she could help, she must.

"It's Mallt. Her wing's injured, and I don't know how to fix it. I think the chest muscle is hurt, but I'm not sure. It's not healing properly, and I just don't know enough about the anatomy." He raised his hands in a helpless shrug.

"I'll have to see it. Is she in her stall?" Neste forgot her leg pain as she hobbled after Kenn.

In the stall, Robyn stood near Mallt's head, murmuring and stroking her neck. Kenn went right to the injured wing. "I felt along the wing and compared it to the other one. I don't think it's broken. There's a couple of feathers bent or missing, but I'm most concerned about the muscle."

Neste handed one of her crutches to the apothecary and felt along Mallt's neck, shoulders, and front leg. "It's not hot, so not seriously hurt. Muscle strain, I think. See how she's holding this wing oddly? If we ease it down along her body and strap it, she won't hurt other muscles while these heal. A compress, like you'd use on a person, would help. I'll make some molasses treats—it never hurts to pamper them when they're not feeling well."

She looked up to find Hoel watching her through the open doorway. Kenn sighed in relief and helped Robyn secure her injured wing. Neste hobbled into the aisle. "I'm ready to go now. I couldn't let the mare suffer," she told Hoel.

"Of course you couldn't," Hoel said proudly.

Chapter 10: Passion

Neste couldn't climb aboard the wagon, of course, so Hoel lifted her onto the back. Her legs hung off the edge of the rough plank bed, the hem of her skirt swirling. On either side, the hard spoked wheels rattled and lurched. The same wagon delivered produce, any large orders from town, and, of course, injured riders who fell from the sky. The farmer who owned the earthbound horses drove. Hoel sat next to Neste. He didn't say anything, didn't touch her, but his support kept her calm.

The rough ride jostled her leg, which throbbed painfully by the time they reached Neste's house. Glynis raced out the door, a kitchen towel in her hand. "Oh, Neste, Mum worried when I discovered you'd gone. What were you thinking?"

Neste admired how her sister emphasized their mother's worry. She must know her own worry wouldn't move Neste at all. "I belong in the barn, Glynis," she said, but the words felt hollow.

Hoel helped her inside and got her settled in bed under Glynis's watchful eye. Neste restrained a groan as Hoel pressed against bruised ribs. With his face close to hers, he said, "Nice having you in the barn today."

She no longer rode for him. Did he want her there because she would be his wife? Neste didn't think she could go from rider to silent support. Before she could respond, though, he'd straightened and patted her throbbing leg. She winced.

Hoel gave her a quick farewell and left. She heard him stop in her mother's doorway and inquire about her health. Mum would like that. Then his bootsteps made their way into the front room and out the door. The Aerial Games were closing, and he needed to be there. He couldn't stay, even if she wanted his company.

Only then did Neste notice her pewter tankard, emptied of its flowers. "Glynis!" she yelled. Her sister must have been in their mother's room because she arrived immediately. "Where are my flowers?" Neste demanded.

"Those white weeds? If you want proper flowers, I'll cut and arrange some..."

"Those were mine," Neste howled. She hadn't seen Elen for days. The garlic flowers had wilted, and no new ones replaced them. Somehow she and Elen remained connected as long as the flowers had been in her room.

"Maybe you overdid it this morning," Glynis said in a chilly voice. She left the room and headed for the kitchen. Neste stared at the empty tankard and clenched her fists around her pillow so she wouldn't cry with frustration and loss.

With the exertion of the morning over, a pleasant satisfaction relaxed Neste's muscles. She wouldn't admit her exhaustion to anyone. From the kitchen, clanging pans announced dinner would be soon, but her eyes closed long before Glynis brought her tray.

When Neste awoke, her dinner sat on the table next to her bed, cold. Shaking off the disorientation that a nap in the middle of the day caused, she reached for a roll. It would be better cold than the soup. Her stomach growled for more, but before she could decide whether to eat the cold soup or call Glynis for something hot, someone approached her room. The shuffling steps halted before Neste could see the person. Curious, she watched the doorway.

Elen slipped into view, her eyes looking back over her shoulder. Her footsteps carried her forward, and she turned to face Neste. With a small sigh of relief, she half-whispered, "I made it. No small feat, you understand. I've come by every day, but that witch stopped me."

"It's wonderful to see you," Neste said with a warm smile. She, too, kept her voice soft although she couldn't imagine Glynis physically removing Elen now that she'd arrived.

Elen hung back near the doorway. Her short dark hair peeked out from under her hastily tied cap, and she wore an older gown, not one of her best. She offered Neste a small bouquet with a shrug of apology. The leaves of the garlic flower were spotted with yellow, the flowers smaller than usual.

Neste waved at the tankard. "Is there still water in there?"

Elen slid over to the dresser and plopped the flowers in. "It won't matter. They're dying anyway." Her shoulders slumped.

Neste stared at her friend, remembering the last time they'd been together. Elen had bounced with exuberance over her betrothal to Morgan. "How's everything with Morgan?"

Elen's face glowed. "Wonderful." Her smile faded. "I'm so sorry, Neste, about Llawen...I don't know what to say. I'm so awful at this." She wrung her hands and looked at the floor.

"Elen, yours is the face that most comforts me," Nest said. "You don't have to say anything."

Elen lunged for the bed and wrapped Neste in a hug, her words spilling out. "I've been so worried, and so angry with Hoel and Glynis. Morgan offered to come with me and force Glynis to let me in, but I knew that would be worse. So I waited until I knew Hoel would be at the barn. I'm quite sneaky when I want to be! Glynis is in the kitchen preparing supper, and I think your mum is asleep. Not that she would be angry with me. She might even appreciate a visit from me."

Neste smiled as Elen's tone went from outraged to conspiratorial to confidant. "She would indeed. Elen, thank you so much for making such an effort to come. I really appreciate it."

"I would think so. Friendly faces don't seem too common around here."

"So tell me what's going on in the world." Neste settled back into her pillows, prepared to let Elen talk.

Elen hesitated only a moment, her eyes raking Neste head to toe. "How are you, really?"

"I'm sore," Neste admitted, "but everyone asks me that. Tell me something new."

"I will." She hesitated again, though, before speaking. "Everyone is talking about your accident. Some say you should be given another horse right away, and some say you should just leave the barn. I suppose they want you to disappear into thin air so they don't have to feel sorrow over your loss. Morgan's barn won the Games, of course, but he is keeping the celebration simple out of deference to your accident. Gossip isn't focused on him, though. Did Isabella really leave with Adam?" Elen leaned forward, eyes bright.

Neste marveled at the speed of rumor. It had been scant hours since the couple left the barn. "Did they have heralds accompany them?"

Elen laughed. "They might as well have! I never saw that coming!"

Neste's eyes returned to the fading flowers. "So your garlic plant is sick?"

Her friend's smile faded. "I water it, but it wilts more. I am hopeless with plants."

Elen didn't have earth's nurturing skill. "Keep your dreams alive," Neste advised.

"Neste! Who are you talking to?" Glynis's voice carried from the kitchen, preceding her imperious footsteps. She thundered into the room and scowled at Elen.

"Glynis, look who's finally been able to visit," Neste said, smiling. "My very best friend in the whole world. I'm so glad she's here. I have missed her dreadfully."

Facing Neste, her back to the door, Elen's eyes went wide as her hands covered her mouth to stifle laughter.

With a low grunt, Glynis glared at both of them and stomped back to the kitchen.

"Oh, Rhiannon, that was funny!" Elen whispered. "You surely haven't lost your sense of humor. You know, maybe you can come to Morgan's barn now. The Rider Ceremony will be next month, and I'm sure Morgan can find you a horse."

Neste stared at her friend, holding her jaw steady so it wouldn't drop open. "You think having a horse is more important than my betrothal?"

Elen flushed at Neste's tone. "I'm sorry Neste, but Hoel wasn't your choice, and better men are available."

"Better men like Adam? Handsome and charming and fickle?" Her hands gestured to her injury. "I know all this was an accident, but instead of accepting responsibility Adam ran away. Hoel stayed. My father chose Hoel. He wanted me settled in a good position before he died. Most importantly, I love Hoel."

Elen's eyebrows rose. "He's too prickly for me. Will he put you on another horse?"

"I don't want another horse." Her voice wavered.

"Then what good are you to Hoel?" Neste flinched, but Elen continued. "You were a rider. He enjoyed your success. What are you to him now?"

"He loves me." Neste hated the uncertainty in her voice. Elen's words resonated in her own brain, although she hadn't voiced them even in private.

"And you love him. Match made by Rhiannon." Elen's voice edged toward sarcasm.

"My father left me when I was twelve years old. Not his fault, but true. My brothers left me and never looked back. Even Adam left me. Hoel will never leave me, and I find myself craving stability right now."

Elen hesitated a moment, her eyes focused on Neste. "Listen to me with your heart, Neste. You were a good rider. You could be again if you choose to. If not, whatever you do choose, make sure it's what you want and not just pleasing to someone else."

Neste nodded as tears threatened. Elen squeezed her hand and turned toward the door. Neste closed her eyes and lay still. She heard Elen sweep from the room, muted voices as she greeted Mum, and the solid sound of the front door closing. Tears slipped under Neste's eyelids and trickled down her face.

She opened her eyes and wiped them with her hand. Staring at the wilted white flowers that Elen had brought, Neste wondered what she really did want in her future. She didn't want to fly, but then she was no use to the barn. Would she ever heal enough to give her heart to another horse?

When Glynis brought her supper, she asked her sister to take away the pewter tankard and its bouquet. Hungry since she'd had no dinner, Neste ate well. Then she watched the empty dresser top until the room dimmed with night.

For the next couple of days, Neste rose at the same time and walked to the barn on her crutches. Glynis and her mother both disapproved, but Neste needed that much independence. Her leg ached constantly, but it also got stronger every day. Kenn no longer came by daily, and Glynis no longer made special teas for Neste's pain. Elen met her at the fountain every night as usual, but forestalled real conversation by gushing about Morgan and their upcoming wedding. Nonetheless, Neste appreciated the respite from agonizing over her own future.

In the barn, the thrill of competition had subsided to the normal routine of caring for and exercising the horses. Hoel insisted no one care for Mallt but Neste and Robyn, the groom. Robyn showed intelligence and competence in his care of Mallt, and Neste enjoyed talking to him. She began teaching him what she knew of winged horse care.

"The wings are the horse's most vulnerable area. Without them, the horse cannot fly. Winged horses aren't meant to gallop long distances like their non-winged counterparts. They develop different muscles for flying. A grounded horse deteriorates quickly."

"I walk Mallt up and down the lanes every day," Robyn told her. "Riders from other barns ask about her, and they call me by name now." His pride warmed Neste.

"How old are you, Robyn?"

"Sixteen, milady."

"Sixteen?" Neste tried to hide her surprise. She'd thought him much younger. "Have you ever considered being a rider?"

"A rider! Oh, no, milady. I would never aspire so high."

"Well, you might be a good one." To Neste's surprise, she felt no desire to ride Mallt. An air person would long for the air, but she was content to stay on the ground. Did that mean she no longer had dreams?

Robyn's cheeks flushed at her compliment, and he turned the conversation back to Mallt. "See how her coat is improving? I'm feeding her like you said, and I'm brushing her more."

"She looks wonderful, and she seems in good spirits."

Robyn beamed as Neste left the stall. He knew and loved Mallt, and Mallt needed a rider. Neste would recommend him to Hoel. She headed toward Marc's office.

Before she arrived, a shout stopped her. "Neste! Can I see you?"

She turned to find Phelip hurrying toward her. "Is something wrong with Rhiryd?"

"The competition during the Games really didn't help his ankle. Can you look at it again?"

"Of course." She followed Phelip to the horse's stall. The sorrel looked to be in wonderful health. Neste pictured him moving into position above her at the top of the Humminghorse Dance and shuddered. Pushing the image out of her mind, she stroked the velvet flank and murmured to the horse. His ears swiveled, listening.

"That's a good boy, Rhiryd. Let me see your ankle. Hmmm looking good, actually, Phelip." She straightened to see a scared girl cowering behind the horse. "Your groom is taking excellent care of him." The scared girl smiled and dropped her eyes to the floor.

"His ankle is all right?"

"It's a little swollen from overuse, but with rest it will be fine."

She continued to Marc's office. Sitting behind the desk, he looked up and smiled. "It's good to see you in the barn, Neste."

"Just checking on Mallt, syr. She's doing well under Robyn's care."

"Did I see you with Phelip, too?"

"He asked me to check the sorrel's ankle. It'll do better now that he can rest it."

Marc nodded. "Rider Ceremony is coming up. We only have two foals ready for riders." His eyes narrowed as he peered at her. "And Mallt, of course."

"Syr, I wanted to talk to you about that." Neste took a step forward, considering how to put forth Robyn's name.

Marc was too quick. Before she could continue, he said, "Oh, good. I hoped you'd been thinking about it. I wouldn't want to lose you. You're a good rider."

"Good rider?" Neste repeated weakly.

"You'd be perfect for Mallt. She needs someone experienced to undo bad habits she learned from Adam. Will you take it on?"

She sank into the chair beside Marc's desk. The idea of being Mallt's rider made her dizzy, but she needed to be useful. "Mallt's rider?" Neste repeated, still trying to process his request. "I think Robyn would be a good rider, syr, and he knows Mallt better than anyone."

"Robyn?" Marc frowned. "He's barely sixteen. That does qualify him to ride, but you're eighteen and more experienced." Her reluctance to leap on the opportunity obviously surprised him. "Would you think about it?"

Neste nodded. "I am honored, syr, but I haven't given much thought to riding again. I will let you know tomorrow."

Now that riding again was a real possibility, Neste was torn. Body in automatic motion, she stood up and hobbled from the office. Her brain flashed images of Llawen before and during the accident, of the mare as a filly, and of Mallt. The idea of flying struck terror into her heart. She would never long to fly. Her dreams had always included Llawen. Now she realized those dreams had been more about caring for Llawen, nurturing her. Flying had never been her passion. How would her future with Hoel change if she she never rode again?

Neste walked along the lane between barns, her crutches swinging and her mind whirling. She forced herself to think about Mallt. Much joy had come from watching the mare's wing heal. Inspiring Robyn to learn more about the medicines needed to care for her also pleased her. Maybe she could be useful by continuing to heal and teach. The barn didn't have a doctor for horses or people. Kenn already had told Neste she knew more about the winged horses and their care than he did. And she couldn't shake the notion that Robyn deserved to ride. She arrived home more mentally exhausted than physically.

***

That evening, she arrived at the fountain before Elen. Strong enough now to use only one crutch, she leaned it against stone Aer and walked slowly around the fountain on her own two feet, stepping cautiously. Thrilled with success, she grinned. Elen arrived in time to see the big smile.

"Good news?" she asked. "Let me guess. Marc offered you a horse?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm smiling..."

"Wonderful!" Elen interrupted. "Which one?"

Neste took a deep breath. "Mallt. But I don't want her, Elen, I really don't. His groom would be a good rider. I suggested him to Marc."

Elen held up a hand. "Stop right there. Are you sure you don't want to ride? Ever?"

"No, I'm not sure." Neste hesitated. Elen waited. "I have to give Marc my answer tomorrow but I think it will be no."

"So what will you do?" Elen asked, her tone gentle.

"Does it sound mad to want to heal?"

"Of course not! You'd be a great healer! I bet Kenn would apprentice you. Think how much you'd learn. Is that what you want more than anything?"

"I'm so confused. I don't know." Neste looked out across the town as dusk turned to night. She'd forgotten to bring a lantern.

"Fy cyfaill, your heart knows best."

Yes, she was Elen's friend, no doubt about that. She wanted Elen's friendship and she wanted marriage to Hoel. But rider or healer?

Chapter 11: Decision

The next morning after a sleepless night, Neste rose determined to make her decision. She wanted to discuss options with someone, but couldn't decided who to ask. Mum would tell her to follow her heart. Some of her thoughts were her own, but some reflected the wishes of others. Discerning which were which made decisions difficult right now. Glynis would be no better. She would just disagree with whatever Neste said. She needed to find someone impartial.

Neste walked into town, her leg aching more than usual, to the apothecary's shop in a side lane off the main circle around the fountain. Inside, surrounded by dusty bottles and leather bound books, Kenn greeted Neste with a warm expression. Neste's own grim smile raised his eyebrows.

"Can I ask you about healing?" she asked. Kenn waited, giving her an encouraging nod. "It must be rewarding."

"Yes, but it has its difficult days too. What do you really want to know, Neste?"

She hesitated then picked up a dusty jar from the counter. "Do you have to do a lot of reading so you know how to help people?"

"You learn what people want. In a small town like Tremeirchson, there's not much variety in my cases." Kenn gently took the bottle from her and held it up. "Most often the girls want love potions." He set the potion on a shelf.

"Love potions? That doesn't seem very rewarding." Neste trailed a finger along the edge of the counter. "What would your apprentice have to do? Would you consider a woman?"

"A woman? Neste, are you thinking about becoming a healer? You'd be a good one. You already do more than you realize, and riders from every barn respect your ability with the winged horses. It's hard for a woman though." Neste made a face. "Na, a woman can do the job, but the hours are long. Your time would belong to your patients, not a husband, not children. I would not apprentice you for that reason."

Neste nodded. "And if I really want it?"

"Healing is a gift, and you have it. Anything I can do to help, just ask. You can be a good healer, a help to your barn, even without being apprenticed."

"Diolch, Kenn. I haven't made my decision yet, but thank you for your honest words."

Neste left the shop warm with Kenn's praise. She looked up the lane away from the fountain toward the blacksmith shop. Impulsively, she decided to visit her youngest brother, apprenticed four years ago at the age of ten. Neste had only seen him a few times since. Cadoc didn't get away to visit family, and she'd mostly been in the barn. She remembered him as a sweet boy with soft curls and chubby cheeks. At fourteen, he probably no longer had either.

The blacksmith shop rang with the pounding of metal. Neste could hear it long before she arrived. She paused at the doorway. Dark with soot and smoke, the stone walls enclosed the massive hearth. In the fireplace a ferocious fire roared. The blacksmith, wearing a leather apron, dominated his shop. Muscles bulged past rolled up shirt sleeves as he swung a hammer Neste wouldn't even be able to lift. Sweat ran off his brow.

In a corner behind him, a young man rendered nails at an old anvil. Startled, Neste recognized Cadoc. He spotted her about the same time and froze. Chubby cheeks had given way to angles, but he still had his curls. He stood, and Neste marveled at his height and the muscles his trade had given him.

"Neste? Is something wrong?" His face twisted in fear. "Is it Mum?"

"Na, na. Mum's fine." She wondered if losing Llawen counted as something wrong. He must have heard. As an apprentice, though, maybe his master wouldn't let him leave. "Can you talk for a bit?"

Cadoc's eyes went to his master, who nodded. Her brother set down his hammer and came to the doorway. "I have a very short break, Neste. What is it?"

"You've grown so much." Neste winced as his lips tightened. No, she wasn't going to waste her precious time. "I'm sorry. That's not what I came to say." She looked around the shop once more. "Is this working for you?"

"It's my life."

"But is it your passion? Does working with iron fill your dreams?"

"Can you say what you came to say? I must make a full box of nails for a customer to pick up today." Impatience showed in his face.

"I'm sorry," Neste said again. "You heard about my accident?" Her brother nodded. "Da decided I would be a rider. I loved it, but now I need to make other plans. I thought dreams filled me. Now I'm empty. I like to help people who are ill or injured, does that make me earth?"

Her brother stared. "I haven't talked to you in four years. Before that I was just a baby. What did I know of adult dreams?" He laughed. "Right now you seem like a water person, flowing from person to person waiting for someone to make decisions for you. Maybe you should run away and become a bard that travels from town to town." He chuckled at his own joke.

Stung, Neste nodded. "You can get back to work." She watched as he returned to the stump in the corner with his hammer and stack of iron rod that would soon be nails. He was a stranger.

She left the shop and headed to the fountain. Her other brother Aidan stood beside Aer, the stone horse representing air. Her brother's eyes fastened on her. He clearly intended to speak with her even though he hadn't done so since he became a rider a year ago. She approached cautiously in case this brother wanted to wound her, too.

"Neste, I'm glad I found you." Concern flared in his eyes.

At seventeen, Aidan looked like a younger version of their father. Neste's heart twisted. She remembered her father as a happy man. He had held her hand and raced up the hill to watch the winged horses fly in competition or in drill. He played with her, running across the hill, pretending to fly. All her memories of him were happy. She swallowed hard and smiled at Aidan.

"I'm sorry I didn't visit you earlier," he said, his words rushing out. "I can't imagine your pain. But we're family and I should have been there to support you."

Neste nodded. "Diolch Aidan, it means a lot that you say that even now." She looked at her father's green eyes and wispy brown hair. "You look so much like Da." Oh she hadn't meant to say that. He'd think she was an idiot.

Aidan frowned. Neste hurried on. "I'm sorry." Change the subject. "You did very well in the Aerial Games. Your barn leader must be proud."

"Da wasn't perfect, you know. You were his favorite so you didn't see it. Can't you realize that now? He planned all our lives to his dream, not ours."

"What would you rather do?" Neste asked, shocked.

"Not me. I'm a rider. Cadoc and Niall, though, never had a choice. Neither did you."

"Aidan, what are you saying? Da tried to watch out for us." Neste tried to keep defensiveness out of her voice.

"And he did pretty well. You and Niall suffered, though. That's why Niall ran away. He didn't want to be apprenticed to Kenn like Da wanted. I know you loved Llawen, but you're more than just a rider. You have other abilities. You can heal, and you stay calm even in tough situations."

She'd always thought herself to be air. As a child she loved watching the flying horses, but she'd never really longed for the air as Elen had. What memories she had of her early dreams were more about nurturing the horse than flying. Neste thought about the other areas of her life. She wanted to marry Hoel and have children, wanted to nurture them and watch them grow. Those were earth traits. "So what would you have me do?" she asked sharply.

He ignored her and walked around the fountain looking at all three stone horses. "Air, the symbol of dreams, is where I belong. You don't."

"What about Llawen?"

"You don't have to be a rider to have dreams." He placed a hand on the smooth gray flank of Alon, the water horse. "Water people are flexible."

"Iawn, so flexible sometimes they have no spine," Neste scoffed.

"Yet you went along with Da's wishes, and now you follow Hoel."

Neste's eyes dropped to the water in the fountain basin. The drops falling from Aer's mouth rippled until the rings overlapped the ripples from Alon's stream. Water had always been the weakest element, at least in Neste's mind. "Do you think I'm weak?"

"You are one of the strongest people I know." He completed his circle and stood in front of Ystrad, the earth horse. "Healing is a form of nurturing."

Neste thought of Glynis, the caring one, the very definition of earth. And she didn't want to be like her sister. "Glynis is the earth person in the family."

Aidan gestured to the fire-topped pillar that rose above the three stone horses. "Glynis is too much earth. She never dreams and has never made an impetuous decision in her life. The flame is passion, but it needs to stay under control."

Suddenly Neste understood. A flame needed air and wood from the earth, and could always be extinguished by water. Too much air, too much earth, or too much water could kill it. On the other hand, a fire out of control could destroy.

"Hoel is too much air," she said, stroking Aer's white stone flank. "He'd be a better leader if he could nurture his riders a bit, and if he wasn't so jealous." She looked at Aidan with new eyes. He was too much air, her mother had said.

Aidan smiled. "And Niall is more water than air."

"He never knew what he wanted," Neste agreed. Her brother had gone off to Merioneth following a lord with no clear idea of his future. Since then he'd held three different jobs. Did he really have any dreams of his own any more?

"The strongest person is a balance of all three,"Aidan said softly. "People who are strong in one element are the people who stand out. They're also the ones who cause problems."

"Balance is what we all strive for," Neste said, repeating words her mother had said over and over during her life.

Aidan hugged her. "You'll do the right thing. It will be the best for you and for those around you because that is how you're made. Have confidence, Neste. Be strong. Be balanced."

"Diolch, brawd." Neste thanked her brother and hugged him back.

He squeezed her arm and headed back to his barn. Neste watched him go, marveling at how smart her younger brother had grown.

With a skip in her step, she walked back to Marc's barn, her path clear.

Neste peeked into the first stall, which belonged to Marc's winged stallion. The barn leader stood there with his forehead pressed against the horse's neck. He murmured to the horse and stroked its flank. Neste turned away, not wanting to interrupt a private moment, but Marc saw her.

"Neste, are you looking for me?" He left the stall and leaned against the wall of the barn, looking at her expectantly.

"I am honored that you offered Mallt to me, syr, but I can't accept her. I hope you consider Robyn as her rider." Certain about her decision, she still twisted her hands anxiously waiting for his reply.

To her surprise, he smiled. "I didn't think you would, but I had to offer. You will stay around the barn."

He had not asked, nor had he demanded. "I will. I'd like to heal your horses and riders."

Marc's eyes searched her face. Neste met his gaze, and he nodded. "You will speak with Hoel?" he asked.

"Iawn, syr." She agreed and walked down the barn, not sparing a glance for the empty stall where her heart once lived.

Hoel must be flying since Lleu's stall was empty. Neste continued out of the barn and limped up the grassy hill. She leaned back, letting her chestnut hair stream loose as if pulling her head to the ground. Face to the sky, eyes closed, she soared with Llawen. With a smile and a sigh, she let go of the sensation and opened her eyes to search the sky for Lleu. When she spotted him, she waved. Hoel directed the stallion to dip a wing in response.

Lleu circled the hill once, then landed near Neste. She waited for Hoel to dismount and remove his helmet. A smile grew from her heart and beamed from her face, but Hoel approached her hesitantly, clutching the helmet in his hand.

"Did you have a good flight?" she asked.

His eyes searched hers. "Just using up some energy and stretching muscles. It's a beautiful day."

"It is." She smiled. He was discussing the weather. He must not know what else to say. She stood facing him, her heart sure but her words uncertain.

"I'm thinking about the group dance. With you replacing Adam at the top of the formation, I think it will be stronger next year. Who do you think has the skill to hold that bottom position?"

"Hoel, I refused Mallt." Neste reached out a hand to take one of his.

"Refused Mallt? Why would you do that?" Confusion laced his words, and his eyes showed his hurt.

"I would love to perfect that dance with you, cariad, but it's not to be. My heart is not in the sky."

He hesitated, then asked in a dead tone, "And where is your heart, then?"

She leaned in and smiled. "With you. I want to be your wife, your helpmate. I will heal the horses and riders in your barn. I will support your leadership." She took both his hands in hers. "I will love you all my days." She held her breath. They'd never discussed love, only partnership.

"You love me?" He sounded incredulous.

She laughed. "Is that so hard to believe? Everyone would love you if they knew you like I do. You care deeply about the success of your horses. I can help you show that care to the riders, too. Your dream is a good one, Hoel. You don't always communicate that clearly to those around you, but you can learn."

Now he smiled, too. "Together we will lead the best barn in Tremeirchson."

"I will share your dreams, nurture your riders and our children, and support your decisions."

"And I will love and honor you all my days," he vowed, taking her in his arms and kissing the top of her head.

Neste lay her head on his chest, the wool of his tunic rubbing her cheek, and was content. Over the barns toward the fountain, winged horses cavorted in the sky. On the ground, she knew, riders and grooms relaxed in the light duties that followed an Aerial Games. Next year, Mallt would have a new rider and two new horses would be preparing for the Games. Hoel would yell, and she would remind him to be gentle. They would marry and children would be born. Somehow she'd convince him to let her remain friends with Elen. He'd become leader and victories would come. The world belonged to them as long as they worked together.

About the Author

Linda Ulleseit was born and raised in Saratoga, California. She currently lives in the Evergreen area of San Jose with her husband. They have two adult sons and two yellow Labradors. She enjoys cooking, cross-stitching, reading, and spending time with her family.

Linda is a sixth grade teacher at James Franklin Smith Elementary School, where her students are some of the early reviewers of her books. She loves teaching writing and has published several anthologies of student work. Her students get a lot of practice scribbling stories and essays. Someday Linda hopes to see books written by former students alongside hers in bookstores or online bestseller lists.

As a child, Linda always loved to write. She took her first creative writing course in seventh grade, accumulating a closet full of stories that she never showed anyone until 2007. At that time, she gave the first draft of a flying horse book to a teacher colleague to read.

Her first novel, ON A WING AND A DARE, was published in 2012. It is a Young Adult fantasy set in medieval Wales, complete with flying horses, a love triangle, and treachery. It's sequel, IN THE WINDS OF DANGER, was released in March, 2013. Both books are available on Amazon The third book in the trilogy, UNDER A WILD AND DARKENING SKY, is planned for Fall 2014.

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Check out the blog: http://flyinghorsebooks.wordpress.com

Email: flyinghorsebooks@gmail.com

Continue Neste and Hoel's story in ON A WING AND A DARE:

Chapter 1: Fanfare (partial)

"Rhys is listless, not eating..." Neste's voice trailed off as the winged colt collapsed like an empty burlap sack.

Emma dropped to the floor, heedless of her skirts, and cradled Rhys's head. The glow of early dawn helped the flickering lantern illuminate the stall.

"Mum?" she asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's fevered. Try giving him some water."

"Iawn, del," Emma murmured in Welsh as she dribbled a handful of liquid into Rhys's mouth.

"Water balances fever, but it's not enough. Maybe the mare's milk..." Neste broke off. "Emma, don't risk angering your father today of all days. I'll care for Rhys. Go."

"Da won't notice I'm not there."

"Cariad, you're sixteen. Time to take over your responsibilities to the barn and the family."

Emma reluctantly laid the colt's head on the straw and rose. "Send a groom if you need me."

Her mother nodded, reaching to fold the colt's stubby wings.

Outside the sanctuary of Rhys's stall, the rest of the barn came alive as the sun rose and the winged horses began taking flight. Riders and grooms scurried forth clad in blue and silver barn colors. For her father it was all about the glory of the barn, and to Rhiannon's Fire with everything else. Da cared more about winning the Aerial Games than about sick colts, or his daughter. Emma couldn't deal with him right now. She slipped away from the barn and headed for her best friends, Davyd and Evan, the sons of Da's biggest rival.

49
