I’m always with Flame by this time, he thought. I’d be standing close to him, maybe even riding him by now. I know he’s looking for me, wondering where I am. He’ll miss me. I’m sure he’ll miss me. But it won’t be long before I’ll be back, and he’ll wait for me. I’m sure he will.

Pitch came out of the cave just as the sun appeared above the eastern walls and the valley gleamed brightly as the grass, heavy with dew, picked up the sun’s rays. The band was grazing a short distance from the pool, with only the young, spindle-legged foals running about, slipping as they turned too sharply on their uncertain legs. The Piebald grazed alone with only an occasional glance at his band. Confident and defiant, he stood there with nothing to fear.

“The sun’s up,” Steve said as Pitch reached for his pack.

Pitch fell in behind Steve as they made their way up the trail. “It makes little difference to us in the tunnels,” he remarked.

“But we want to get back to Antago before dark,” Steve replied.

“We’ll make it with hours to spare,” Pitch returned.

They had reached the black hole from which the stream poured when Pitch called out to Steve to stop for a moment. “One last look, Steve,” he said.

“But Pitch—” Steve began impatiently. “We’ll be coming back in a few days.”

“I know, Steve. But just in case we don’t. Just in case …” Pitch left the sentence unfinished, but Steve knew what he meant.

Together they watched the water plummet down to the pool below; then Pitch looked about at Blue Valley, but Steve turned his eyes toward the marsh, where just beyond, he knew, Flame was waiting for him. The vapors rising from the hollow were becoming heavier with the heat of the sun’s first rays.

“Soon I’ll be back, Flame,” Steve muttered. “Very soon. Wait for me.”

“What’d you say, Steve?” Pitch asked.

“Nothing, Pitch. We’d better get going.”

“Yes, I guess we should. All right, Steve.”

But the boy, his eyes still fixed on the hollow, didn’t move.

“I’m ready,” Pitch said. “I said I’m ready, Steve,” he repeated. He was about to give the boy a light push when he noticed Steve’s blood-drained face and wide, staring eyes. Glancing quickly at the hollow, he too saw the weird, ghostly sight before them.

The stallion stood just below the top of the hollow, his giant body enshrouded by clinging, smokelike mist; then he moved forward a few strides, and the vapor gave way to the bright sun that turned his red coat into living, breathing fire.

Flame had returned to Blue Valley!

RAGING DEMONS!

19

For many minutes the red stallion stood there. His head was raised high but he made no move or sound.