‘The weather’s changing,’ said Nan. ‘I can smell it.’
Dusk was falling and she was closing the sitting-room curtains before she and Tamzin settled down to a game of Scrabble.
Tamzin looked up from arranging the board and letters. ‘It’s windy out,’ she said. ‘I got blown home from the beach earlier.’
‘I’m not surprised. It’s full moon, too, so there’ll be a very big tide.’ Nan gave the curtains a shake to straighten them and came to join Tamzin at the table. ‘Not the sort of night to be out in a boat! Never mind; we’re snug and safe. Now, whose turn is it to go first?’
In bed that night Tamzin could hear the sea. The lion really was roaring; the tide must be enormous, she thought, and the gusting wind blowing from seaward would drive it even higher. As Nan had said, she was glad to be safe in the house, warm under her duvet. And the painting, now restored to its place on her bedroom wall, gave her extra comfort.
By morning it was still windy and the weather forecast was predicting rain later. Tamzin went to the stables as usual, and she and Joel resigned themselves to the weekly task of cleaning all the metal parts of the horses’ tack – stirrup irons, bits and buckles. They talked as they worked, and Tamzin told Joel about Alec’s discovery of the stone fragments, and about the gap in the boulders covering the cave entrance. But she was reluctant to say anything about the compulsion that had almost made her go into the cave, or the voice and the vision that had made her stop. It would only start him worrying again, and she didn’t want to set off another argument. So she left that part of the story untold.
It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that they finished their cleaning job and had the chance to go riding.
‘We’d better make it quick,’ Joel said as they emerged from the tack room. ‘Look at that sky.’
Heavy cloud was gathering from the southwest, promising a downpour before very long. The weather forecast had been right.
‘How about the beach, then?’ Tamzin suggested. ‘The tide’s low enough for a canter, and we can get back faster than if we go on the cliffs.’
‘Good idea. We’ll take Sally-Ann and Mischa; they haven’t been out for a while.’
They saddled up and trotted away along the valley path, Joel leading on the chestnut mare Mischa. Mischa was one of the biggest horses in the Richardses’ stable. She towered over bay Sally-Ann; really she was far too big for Joel, but she had such a gentle temperament that, as Mrs Richards said, you could put a six-year-old beginner on her back without worrying. Tamzin followed on Sally-Ann. She wished she could have ridden Moonlight, but reminded herself that she didn’t own him and couldn’t expect him always to be available. Sally-Ann was a lovely pony, and riding was riding, after all.
There were a few cars in the car park, but most of the people on the beach were packing up and getting ready to leave before the rain arrived. A dog barked furiously at the two horses, and Sally-Ann shied, but Tamzin soon had her under control again and they headed for the firmer sand beyond the headland.
‘Let’s ride the whole beach, end to end, then back home,’ said Joel.
‘OK,’ said Tamzin. ‘But I’m not even going to try to race Mischa!’
He laughed, turned Mischa to the right and they gave the horses their heads. Mischa took off at once, her big hooves leaving deep prints as she broke into a canter. Tamzin held back for a few moments, watching the mare admiringly and wishing that she could ride as well as Joel. Sally-Ann shook her head and pawed the sand impatiently, wanting to follow.
‘All right,’ Tamzin said to her. ‘Come on, then. But we won’t catch them!’
She slackened her reins, and they were away.
They cantered to the far end of the beach, then galloped back the whole length of it, right to left. It was an exhilarating ride, with the wind in their faces and the pounding of the horses’ hooves mingling with the pounding of the surf. Tamzin pretended that the beach was a great desert, and she was a tribal princess of ancient times, racing her pure-bred Arabian steed across the endless landscape. Or maybe she was an Ancient Briton, mounted on a wild pony that she had captured and tamed herself –
‘Whoa!’ She heard Joel’s shout, and snapped out of her fantasy in time to see that they were almost at the end of the beach. She dropped her hands, reining Sally-Ann in, and they came to a halt near a rock outcrop where the turning tide was just beginning to swirl.
‘Wow!’ Joel was grinning broadly. ‘That was great!’
Tamzin nodded breathless agreement, grinning back. The horses were excited too, dancing and snorting as they splashed in the shallows at the sea’s edge.
‘Better not hang around,’ said Joel. ‘The sky’s starting to look really grim, and we don’t want to get soaked. Come on; if we start back now, we should beat the rain home.’
They turned their horses and set off again, at a trot this time. Joel was ahead of Tamzin, but as they neared the headland he held Mischa back until she caught up, and said, ‘Did you know horses love swimming? In the summer, Mum and Dad and I sometimes take them in the sea. We wear swimming gear and ride bareback. It’s brilliant – you can come with us this year.’
He expected Tamzin to answer, but she didn’t. She was staring towards the blocked cave, and she clearly had not heard a word he said.
‘Tam? Hey, Tam! I said –’
Tamzin interrupted him. ‘Joel, look! The boulders have moved.’
‘Uh?’
‘At the cave mouth. Remember I told you about the gap I found? Well, it’s bigger now. Anyone could get through.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Joel saw it for himself. ‘I see what you mean.’
‘Nan said there was a really big tide last night,’ Tamzin went on. ‘It must have been powerful enough to shift that enormous rock. Alec’s wish has come true…’
Joel looked at her sharply. ‘What wish?’
Of course; she hadn’t told him that part of yesterday’s story. For a moment Tamzin hesitated, then suddenly she decided to be completely honest. Joel couldn’t argue with her now. Not after this.
So, as they rode on, she told him the details she had left out earlier: the compulsion, the voice, the vision of the galloping horse that she was certain had been Moonlight. Then the meeting with Alec, the wish he had made, and the words that had come to her seemingly from nowhere. Wishes come true, sometimes.
‘It’s as if something told me what was going to happen,’ she said. ‘And now, today, the gap’s wide enough for Alec to get into the cave. The Blue Horse has done this, Joel; I’m sure of it! And it’s a sign that Alec can be trusted!’
Joel didn’t reply at first. In another minute or so they would reach the valley path. They would have to ride in single file then, making talking difficult, and Tamzin seethed with impatience as she waited for him to speak. Then abruptly he halted Mischa and turned to look at Tamzin.
‘All right,’ he said decisively. ‘It sounds convincing; I can’t argue with that any more. And it might mean that the Blue Horse is getting stronger.’ He smiled. ‘Nothing quite like this has ever happened before, has it?’
She smiled back. ‘No, it hasn’t!’
‘Mind you, if the Blue Horse is gaining strength, the Grey Horse isn’t going to like it one bit. It’ll fight back. It’ll try harder to hurt you. So I still think we’ve got to be careful and stay alert.’
Tamzin saw the sense in that. The Grey Horse would fight. It would be angry. And that meant it was doubly dangerous.
Overhead, the sky was the colour of slate now. The daylight looked old and grim, as if something invisible had cast a vast shadow over the whole world. Tamzin looked down at her hands, which were clenched and tense on Sally-Ann’s reins.
‘You’re right,’ she said soberly. ‘I’ll watch out. Every step of the way.’