Just at the edge of the road, tucked among the trees, was a horse. It was calm and docile, dipping its head to take a mouthful of grass before looking around quite as if it hadn’t a care in all the world. This was clearly not a wild horse, one inclined to bolt and jump at the slightest thing. It likely belonged to someone. And it likely could be ridden.

Ridden.

Granny Winter had placed spurs in his bag. She would not have done so if they weren’t meant to be used. Being quite careful to not spook the horse, he removed the spurs from the bag and pulled them onto his boots, strapping them in place.

“I see a large outcropping of rock down the other road,” Sorcha said, still at a distance. “I remember that was on the map of the road to Carrifran.”

“How far from Carrifran?” He kept his eye on the horse as the sound of Sorcha’s footsteps grew louder.

“A half-day’s journey, likely.” She was at his side. “Where did the horse come from, do you suppose?”

“I’m not certain.”

“Granny did include spurs,” she said. “That cannot be mere coincidence.” Clever as she was, Sorcha had pieced together that bit of the puzzle almost instantly.

“I can only assume we are meant to ride it. A horse would get us to our destination more quickly.”

She still looked uncertain. “Finding the horse at a crossroads does not feel like a safe discovery. The animal may very well be something other than it seems.”

“Is there a creature belonging to that realm who appears in the form of a horse?”

She nodded. “Several.”

“Are they all dangerous?”

She shook her head. “But at least one of them is: the kelpie. It is quite dangerous, in fact.”

They approached the horse with caution. There must have been a body of water nearby; water dripped from its mane. Perhaps the animal was docile because it was tired. Perhaps it had been trapped for a time in a downpour. Except, it hadn’t rained that day.

“What do you suppose we ought to do?” Sorcha eyed the horse with misgiving.

“Granny would not have given us the spurs if she didn’t mean for us to use them.”

Sorcha shook her head. “It’s possible she included them on the chance that we did decide to ride the horse, even though doing so would be a mistake.”

It might very well prove to be one. But could they truly risk returning too late to save Donella? Their time was running worryingly short.

“I think we should ride it in the direction that we need to go,” he said. “It will speed our journey and increase the chances we can return home by Bealltainn.”

Sorcha agreed, though she seemed reluctant.