The Pillars Of The World

the horses to make sure they’re settled.”
    Ari folded some small towels into pads so they could hold the soup bowls without burning their hands.
    She brought out some cheese and lightly buttered bread and set the plate between them on the bench.
    They ate in silence while they watched the horses graze.
    Contentment seeped into Morag. The horses were relaxed, even the dark horse and the sun stallion. That was a good sign that there was nothing here that would harm them. They’d both been uneasy since the first meeting with the nighthunters.
    “May I ask a favor?” Ari said.
    “You may ask,” Morag replied cautiously.
    “You can see the spirits of the dead.” Ari waited for Morag’s nod before continuing. “I was wondering
    ... I’d like to know before I leave Brightwood that my mother and grandmother have gone on to the Summerland.”

    “That I can do,” Morag said. She started to set her bowl of soup aside, then stopped when Ari touched her arm lightly.
    “There’s time,” Ari said.
    When they finished the meal, Ari led her to a bedroom off the main room. “I’ll make up a bed in one of the upstairs rooms for you, but for now, you can sleep here.”
    Unsettled by the strength of the relief she felt that Ari would allow her to stay for a day or two, Morag just nodded and sat down on the bed. She waited until Ari closed the door before stretching out on top of the covers.
    Sleep didn’t follow exhaustion. She lay awake for some time, listening to the quiet sounds of living. She was just starting to drift off when she heard a nervous snort followed by the sound of the window being pushed up by someone outside.
    Opening her eyes just enough to see, she watched the window, tensed.
    The dark horse’s head poked into the room.
    “See?” Morag heard Ari say in a low voice. “She’s fine. She didn’t leave you. She’s just sleeping. Now get your hooves out of my flower bed, you big oaf.”
    The dark horse withdrew his head. Morag heard Ari scolding him to watch where he put his feet if he was going to keep poking his head through the window.
    The dark horse snorted. Ari huffed.
    Picturing the standoff made Morag smile. And smiling, she fell asleep.
    The daylight had already softened by the time Morag woke up. At first, the silence was peaceful, soothing. Then she sat up and listened hard.
    Should it be so silent? What if something terrible had happened and she’d slept so deeply she hadn’t been aware of it? No. Surely if something had happened, she would have heard the dark horse. Surely.
    Yap yap yap.
    Turning toward the sound, she got out of bed, went through the arch that led to the adjoining dressing room, and looked out the window. What was a shadow hound puppy doing here?
    Then she saw the tan front legs, which explained well enough why the pup had been abandoned in the human world. Not a responsible thing to do—and not a safe one. The shadow hounds had been bred to run with the Wild Hunt, and even an animal that wasn’t a purebred shadow hound would grow into a large, fierce hunter.
    Wondering if she should talk to Ari about the pup, she watched from the window for a minute before she realized the dark horse and the sun stallion were playing “tease the puppy.”
    The sun stallion pranced in front of the puppy, catching its attention. Yapping, the puppy did its own less-than-graceful prancing, daring the stallion to come closer. While the pup yapped at the sun stallion, the dark horse silently came up behind it, his head low to the ground. When his muzzle almost touched the puppy’s hindquarters, he snorted. Loudly. Yipping, the pup dashed away.
    “Stop it, both of you,” Morag heard Ari say sternly.
    “You shouldn’t be teasing him. You’re both so much bigger.”
    Smiling, Morag turned away from the window to join Ari outside. As she left the room, she noticed the glass-doored bookcase, but didn’t stop to look at what was inside.
    When Morag appeared at the open kitchen door, the dark horse trotted over, looking very pleased with himself.
    “If he nips your nose, it’s no less than you deserve,” Morag said quietly. But she smiled and petted him to soften the scold. She knew he had a playful side—it was part of his breed—but he seldom had a chance to play.
    Seeing Morag, Ari walked over to the kitchen door, the puppy sheltered in her arms.
    “This is Merle?” Morag asked, remembering that Ari had been concerned about finding someone to take care of Merle when