Jane's Transformation (Magical Pony School): Magical Pony School, #1

The Magical Pony School

Book 1:

Jane’s Transformation

By Billie Hinton

2010

November Hill Press

Moncure, North Carolina

The Magical Pony School: Jane’s Transformation is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, in entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2010 by Billie Hinton

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author and publisher.

Published in the United States by November Hill Press, Moncure, North Carolina.

www.novemberhillpress.com

Book design by Billie Hinton.

Chapter One

It was the afternoon of the longest night of the year. The chill of the season was tempered somewhat by the warmth of the sun, which passed through bare-branched trees surrounding the arena and sketched jagged patterns on the sand footing.

Jane was trying hard not to think of the evening’s solstice ceremony, and what would come with the darkness.

Eilidh, one of the teachers, stood in the center of the arena, square on the spot marked X, which she had told them many times during the past month was not only the midpoint of their riding space but Gebo, the rune of partnership and gifts. When riding through X, Jane’s mind darted quickly to fancy wrapped packages and good fortune, but she suspected Gebo’s gifts were different.

She shook off her thoughts to focus on Eilidh’s words and the exercise. Trotting circles, or turas, as Eilidh called them, a mounted meditation for the shortest day of the year.

Jane was riding Ryan, the red bay pony often called the little king. Her short dark hair matched his black points perfectly. Ryan extended his trot and snorted as Jane renewed her focus and accidentally shifted her weight to the inside, undershooting the circle she was riding. Go around again, Eilidh called out. Let Ryan do more of the work. You’re thinking too hard.

Across the arena Gillean sent Keir forward out of a spook. Keir’s black coat shone with sweat as he went sideways and then straightened. Gillean, tall and thin with red hair bursting out from beneath his helmet, had to sit deep in the saddle to bend Keir back to the circle, but he did it. Good job, Gillean. Eilidh’s voice arrowed through the midwinter air, and Gillean smiled. They all loved praise from Eilidh.

Once they got the ponies settled in circles, each of the four students in different corners of the arena, Eilidh moved on with the lesson. Now, keep to your circles, but slow the trot just a bit, and as you feel your ponies collect beneath you, close your eyes.

What she wanted was for the riders to join with the ponies. She called it partnering. Eilidh told them every day that the horses were the teachers and the students were there to learn their secrets.

Jane, Gillean, Fiona, and Birk all met in the evenings before bed to whisper about what it was they were there to learn. The older students in the small, exclusive Magical Pony School murmured of magic and transformation, and Jane hoped what they said was true.

Mostly though, she was there for the ponies, to ride, to study the old ways, to find her footprints.

When the sun began to fall behind the tree line, Eilidh shaded her eyes and called the end of the lesson. Cool your ponies, and Fiona, take care with Rowena. She’s eyeing the woods and I bet that wild boar is back looking for acorns.

Fiona walked Rowena, the dapple gray mare, to the far side of the arena, and sure enough, Rowena spun and snorted. She hated the smell of the boar, and Fiona had not yet learned to ride through her spooking on the trails and in the arena when the boar came close.

Fiona had curly blond hair and pink cheeks, and when Rowena spooked, Fiona’s eyes got big and her curls bounced wildly around the edges of her helmet. She lurched onto Rowena’s neck and flung herself back into the saddle. A few strides further she regained her balance and settled the frightened pony.

Are you okay? Eilidh took a few steps toward Rowena and then stopped as Fiona nodded. Nice job getting back into the saddle. Stick with it, Fiona. You’re getting better with her.

Fiona nodded and sat taller.

Jane – I loved that last circle you did. You breathed it rather than thinking it. Eilidh always left each of her students with something to think about. Gillean and Birk, there was a moment when the two of you were riding in perfect cadence in opposite corners of the arena. Remind me and we’ll try some pas de deux next time.

What’s pa-dee-dur? Birk asked.

Eilidh answered, It’s when two riders and two ponies ride in sync, usually with music. It’s just one of the many new things we’ll be doing in the next few months.

Jane was eager to hear more, but as usual they were quickly brought back to the task at hand.

Eilidh rubbed her forehead and continued. For now get your ponies cooled and cleaned up. Karina will help throw the hay and she’ll coordinate the evening feed. Then you’ll all go to cottages and get ready for dinner. You’ll want to be dressed and in the dining room by six-thirty. We’ll have the meal and the ceremony schedule will be shared at that time. The ponies will be ready when we get back to the barn.

Birk raised his hand. Is it really true we’ll be riding with torches?

Eilidh shook her head. You’ll know soon enough, Birk. Part of the power of the ceremony is experiencing it in the moment. Be patient.

Fiona and Jane giggled. Birk patient? Not hardly. Birk was the prankster in their small group, with long brown hair he pulled back with a leather band, and a mouth that seemed always busy. Birk tended to ask questions, and if he didn’t like the answers he didn’t hesitate to say so.

Jane and Fiona waited, thinking he would surely contest Eilidh’s admonition, but he didn’t.

Eilidh removed her wool cap and they scrambled to form a line in the center of the arena. The ritual of the lesson’s end. Eilidh dropped her head first and they all did the same. Then Eilidh, clad in chocolate brown breeches and boots, her special cobalt blue wool jacket, and the familiar black wool cap now back in place, left the arena.

Birk rode to the wooded side and listened for the boar. Come on, he called.

Jane glanced at Gillean, who had halted but quickly rode Keir into a canter toward Birk. Rowena bolted to follow Keir, and Fiona lost her seat and hit the ground. Before Jane could dismount to help, Ryan spun and reared, and Jane fell off too.

The ponies had gone crazy. Birk jumped off to help, Gillean followed, and suddenly, without any warning, all four ponies galloped to the other end of the arena, jumped the fence one by one, and disappeared.

Birk took off his knitted scarf and whirled it around his head. Woo-whee! Did you see them jump the fence like it was nothing?

Gillean seemed unsure about whether it was funny or upsetting.

Jane and Fiona both snapped at Birk. It’s not something to cheer about, Fiona said. They could get tangled in the reins."

We need to go tell Eilidh, Jane added. The ponies could get hurt.

Eilidh’s brow furrowed as she asked them each in turn what happened and listened carefully to every detail. It could have been the boar, she said, but it seems more than that. Only Rowena is afraid of him.

I heard something, a snorting sound. Birk’s voice was excited and he gestured with both hands. It was gross, like a huge mad pig laughing. We need to go get the ponies. And what do we do about the ceremony?

Eilidh pushed her hair behind her ears and sighed. We’ve got Karina out looking for the ponies. No worries, children. We’ll find them.

She sent the four on to their cottages. Birk grumbled all the way. Children. Ha. Why did she say that?

It was just a figure of speech, Birk. Not a personal insult. Fiona sniffed and turned down the path toward the tiny cottage she shared with Jane.

In the woods some miles away a wild pig trotted along, snorting and snuffling with glee. As the pig moved, its legs grew longer and then merged from four to two. The snout flattened and hair sprouted from its pig-like head.

Not a boar, but a sow, a female pig, now transformed into a woman. Her name was Dwyn. Tall and angular, with stiff white hair and long fingernails, she slowed to a walk, shaking out the tightness in her joints and muscles. She stopped and spat to the side of the path. A bit further, she leaned down and touched the hoof print left by Ryan, the last pony in line as they ran away. She smiled and followed.

Dwyn smelled the ponies before they smelled her. They were in a clearing deep in the forest, standing close together in a huddle. Only Rowena was breathing hard.

Dwyn crept closer and held her breath for a moment. She’d never gotten on well with ponies, and feared she would alarm them now no matter what she did. But the stupid ponies had stopped in a circle of hawthorn trees, bad luck for them, but perfect for Dwyn’s purposes.

She eyed the bits in their mouths. If she could get hold of the reins of the red bay Ryan she knew the rest would follow. He was alert, though, and any sudden move would cause him to bolt.

Before she could move in, she heard a soft whistle. From the other side of the clearing a head poked through the trees. The young woman Karina, the one they called the Maiden. She had shimmering white yarn dripping from the pocket of her jacket. The tips of knitting needles whispered and clicked as she began to knit, absent-minded, while she soothed the ponies.

The tapping of the needles seemed to calm them, as did the Maiden’s soft voice. Dwyn took a step forward. Karina looked up and into the trees. She lifted the shawl she was knitting and sang, Be gone, be gone, boars and SOWS, be gone.

She fluttered the shawl in Dwyn’s direction and silver arrows of light pierced the shadows where Dwyn hid. She crouched and covered her mouth with one hand, cradling a sore shoulder with the other.

The Maiden had won. This round.

Jane, Gillean, Birk, and Fiona were all standing by the barn when the ponies appeared. The field behind the barn was dark. The