Page 51 of To Ride the Wind

She let go with one hand, holding even more tightly with the other as she searched for a lower hold. When she found one, it felt painfully insufficient. Her fingers could barely grasp the slight lip of stone.

You can do this, she told herself, forcing her mind to override her terrified body. She released her final hold on the windowsill above.

Somehow she remained in place as her second hand sought another uncertain hold. Once she’d found it, she froze, her whole length pressed against the stone, her breath coming in desperate gasps.

But the longer she took, the weaker she’d grow. She had to keep moving. She removed one foot and cautiously lowered herself, blindly feeling for another toehold.

The change in position upset her balance, and her fingers slid. There was no time to recover herself. One second, she was still held in place by three points of contact, the next, she had lost them all, and her body was falling backward, drawn irresistibly toward the ground.

She only had time for an awareness of her impending death and the thought of a single face. And in the utter helplessness of that moment, she felt peace.

Except she wasn’t falling as fast as she should have been. The wind curling around her had grown more solid, winding its way around her legs and supporting her fall.

Could she even use the word fall? Impossibly, she seemed to be not so much falling as flying. Except it didn’t feel like flying. It felt like…riding. An uncontrolled, tempestuous ride, but she could have sworn she felt an invisible mount beneath her.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the palace retreating behind her. She was actually being carried along by the wind, moving parallel to the ground.

Her invisible mount lurched upward and then dropped abruptly, making her stomach sink to her feet although the wind caught her before she hit the ground and lifted her again.

The warmth she had felt earlier grew, reaching an unpleasant level of heat which seemed to be emanating from one of her pockets. She thrust her hand into it, distracted and confused as she sought the source. It was the opposite pocket to the one holding the key, but her fingers closed around a small metal object.

Gasping, she pulled out the golden halter she had accidentally stolen from her mother a lifetime ago. Given all the revelations since, she had forgotten about the object whose purpose she hadn’t been able to guess.

As soon as it was free, the miniature halter cooled. It also began to grow. Within seconds, it was as large as a real halter, and it had leaped from her hands to position itself as if she really were riding an invisible horse made of wind. A golden thread grew from the halter, connecting it with her hand like golden reins that glowed.

She tried pulling on one side, and the wind horse responded, moving in the direction she indicated. Somehow, impossibly, she was controlling the wind.

Whooping in elation, she looked up to see a mountain face bearing down on her. Given her impossible speed, she was already nearing the western edge of the valley. Gulping, she tugged on the reins, and the wind horse surged upward, carrying her higher and higher until she sailed over the mountain’s peak.

A brief surge of elation gave way to concentration as the wind raced her down the other side, another peak appearing in front of her. It took all her energy to control the wind horse as she rode it up and down the various peaks and summits that lay before her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the steady beat of elation kept trying to break free, but she wasn’t safe yet. She wasn’t free yet.

Finally she rode down the final mountain face, reaching the first of the legendary valleys. They sat on the very fringe of the mountains, but they belonged to a different world—the border of the Four Kingdoms. Far below her she could see roofs and gardens scattered among the trees.

The wind raced her quickly past the first valley, but she angled it downward, and when the next valley appeared, she brought it all the way to the ground. She hit harder than she had expected, sending herself tumbling sideways.

As soon as her hands flew from the reins, they disappeared, and the halter shrank again, dropping to the ground beside her. She scrambled forward, crawling across the littered leaves of the clearing to grab it.

Thrusting it into her pocket with shaking hands, she lay flat, staring up at branches and blue sky. It took a long time for her trembling limbs to still and her heart rate to steady.

As soon as they had, tears took their place. She had done it. After all these years, she had succeeded. She was free.

CHARLOTTE

Charlotte stood in her room in front of her full-length mirror, regarding herself in her plainest gown. She had made her rapid decision without even considering what it would be like to meet her family again. What would they think of Charlotte now? Would they think her changed? She felt changed. The Charli who had left them had been a young, naïve girl.

She knew she looked beautiful—her beauty had caused her too much pain in her life to bother denying it—but she felt only listlessness. Her image held no appeal as it had done on the morning after her first night beside Henry. She could no longer see her own golden loveliness without seeing beside it the darker beauty of the princess in the portrait. The unknown woman—who Charlotte felt certain had to be royalty from her bearing alone—made Charlotte feel colorless and washed out.

She shook herself, turning from the mirror. It didn’t matter what she looked like for the coming reunion.

Henry awaited her just outside the castle, and it took all her willpower to make herself climb into position on his back, his soft fur gripped in her hands. It had been a long time since their first journey through the trees together, and everything had changed since then.

She stayed awake this time, marveling at the speed of his run. Even knowing how fast they moved, she was taken off guard when she began to recognize their surroundings and knew she was within minutes of her old home.

“We were so close all this time?” she whispered. Their months in the castle had felt so entirely removed from regular life that it seemed incredible the physical distance hadn’t been greater.

But she was even more astonished when Henry took her straight to the location of her old home. Had her family not moved after all?

One look at the building told her it wasn’t her old home, however. The house that stood in its place was at least four times bigger and more luxurious than any house she had seen in the valley. And the attached stable had been replaced with a free-standing building of significant size, and it clearly housed far more than their original three horses.

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