Amy nervously turned toward them, and they turned to face her. After a long stare, they climbed the fence and began marching into the field. Amy felt a strange sensation take hold in her body: an emptiness spreading through her limbs. She looked down at her hands and saw tiny specks of light glowing on her palm, little dots flickering, just like her mother’s arm before it had disappeared. Was this it? Was this how it happened? Was she already being pulled away from Ryan’s world?

No, please . . . not yet . . .

She frantically evaluated her options, which seemed to be dwindling fast. Her only option was to get to Ryan, but there was no hope of catching him now, not anymore, not unless she too could somehow get on a horse . . .

Amy looked toward the barn. Stealing her one last chance, she broke to the right and made a daring dash across the field, cutting in front of the stony-faced paramedics, who promptly spun around and took up pursuit. She flung herself over the fence and ran across the forecourt, straight for the barn. She darted inside. Among the rows of stalls, one horse stood out: Little Dipper. The horse’s eyes were large and alert, and her head was craned over the edge of her door, seemingly eager to attract Amy’s attention.

Amy remembered what she’d been told, that this horse trusted no one, to be wary and keep her distance, but there was something about the intensity of Little Dipper’s gaze that made Amy believe she was the horse for the job.

“You know where he’s gone, don’t you?” Amy said, rushing up to her. “Will you take me to him?” Little Dipper’s ears pricked forward. She blinked her brown eyes and pawed at the ground, swishing her tail from side to side. That was as good an answer as any.

Throwing the door wide open, Amy hurried inside the stall. There was no saddle, no reins, no way she could climb up. She heard footsteps; the paramedics had just entered the barn and were advancing down the central alley, headed right for her. Behind her was a bale of hay. She dragged it over, climbed up, and launched herself onto Little Dipper’s back. She then grabbed a clump of Little Dipper’s mane in either hand and squeezed the horse’s belly with her calves.

“Go!” she yelled. “Go, Little Dipper! Go now!”

Little Dipper obliged with explosive power, rearing onto her hind legs and charging out of her stall at speed. The horse ran straight for the barn’s wide double doors, slicing between the two paramedics and knocking them sideways.