The Camelot Spell - Laura Anne Gilman [29]
“If the moon goes down before we get across…” Ailis started to say. She caught herself, remembering the owl winging over the water. There was no room to question: They had to trust the words the woman spoke—and their own instincts.
“We won’t let it. Ride!” Gerard shouted and kneed his stallion toward the lake and the stretch of silvery moonlight that spanned it. Newt’s horse followed close behind. Ailis clung to Newt tighter, her hood falling back and her braid flying out behind her like a tail as they ran. Water splashed around the horses’ legs. Gerard’s ride stumbled, then recovered. The moonlight caught their clothing, the horses’ coats, and their tack and turned everything into shadows of itself.
The water moved up to their knees, soaking them through. Gerard was muttering under his breath, while Newt tried to remember what he knew about how well horses, even laden horses, could swim. Ailis merely closed her eyes and buried her face against Newt’s back, praying as hard as she could to whichever gods might be listening. Then the hooves seemed to catch on something, and suddenly they were moving on a flat surface and the waters were falling away from their knees, down to the horses’ hocks.
“The moonlight bridge,” Ailis whispered.
“What?”
“A story I heard once. The moonlight bridge will give you what your heart desires….”
Gerard was too far ahead to hear, but Newt clearly did not believe her. Because she was a girl, Ailis thought bitterly. For all their sniping at each other, the two boys still listened to each other. But not her.
“There’s something else….” She couldn’t remember what, though she knew it was important.
She felt Newt shift in the saddle, as though he were turning to look down at the water.
“Dear God,” he whispered, and she felt him shift slightly again, the muscles in his back and legs tightening. He seemed to lunge forward and Ailis felt him slipping out of her grasp.
Then she remembered what else she had heard about the moonlight bridge and grabbed for him again, this time desperate for his safety, not her own.
“Don’t look. Don’t look!” she yelled, her fingers closing over the rough fabric of his trousers, one hand grabbing at his belt to haul him back into the saddle.
“Please, Newt, don’t look,” she sobbed. She remembered now. “The moonlight bridge gives you a vision of your heart’s desire…. And those who dive in after it are never seen again.”
Maybe they got what they dreamed of. But it wasn’t in this world.
“No,” Newt gasped. His backside was firmly back in the saddle and his hands were shaky on the reins. He was looking straight ahead now. “I’m not looking. Not looking.”
“You saw your heart’s desire?” she asked, curiosity momentarily winning out over fear.
But Newt only murmured, “I’m not looking,” as if to convince himself.
And then they were all three on the sandy shoreline of an island that had absolutely not been there when they first rode into the lake. Newt let out a long, quavering sigh that Ailis could feel through his entire body. She hugged him tighter, trying to say something—she wasn’t quite sure what. Maybe next time he’d listen to her….
Gerard turned his horse to face back the way they had come. Ailis and Newt, reluctantly, followed suit. There was the shore, clear as could be in the night air. As he watched, the moon changed position slightly and the path they had followed shimmered and became only light on the water.
“That was too close,” Newt said, watching the bridge disappear. “How’re we supposed to get back?”
“Go forward,” Gerard said practically. “Look for something on the other side. There may be another bridge.”
“Let’s worry about that after we find Merlin,” Ailis said. “If we find Merlin.”
Gerard got down off his horse, making a face as his boots squished with the water inside them. The temptation to take them off and drain the water out was great, but he knew better. Beside the fact that wet leather would be unpleasant if not impossible to put back on, the thought of being caught barefoot