Kelpie Curse: A Feyland Urban Fantasy Tale (The Celtic Fey Book 2) Read Free

little scary, and now she was convinced of it. But at least the farmer had been on her side, and she seemed to have silenced the other girls. Maybe things would be better now. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
    "Eh, Corinne." Phemie's sharp voice cut through her thoughts. "Did you get in touch with the police about the horse?"
    She nodded. "Mum phoned them last night and again this morning. Nobody's reported a missing animal."
    Phemie's eyes narrowed, and she ran a hand along the horse's neck, then down one of his legs. "He's a fine beastie. You'd think someone would've missed him by now."
    "Yes. Maybe they'll phone this morning." Or maybe not. "But the police contacted the National Animal Protection Charity, and they said I could look after him if nobody claims him."
    Phemie nodded slowly. "You said you found him on Chessaig?"
    Corinne nodded.
    "Right at the top? In the circle?"
    "Yes."
    "Just as it was getting dark?"
    "Yes. Sunset."
    Phemie's eyes narrowed again, and she scratched the horse's ears absently. After a pause, she asked, "Have you chosen a name for him yet?"
    "Ghost. I thought it suited him."
    The old woman inclined her head. "Aye. Ghost." She jerked her chin in the direction of the back field. "Put him in the paddock with the other geldings when you're finished with him." She glanced sideways at Corinne, her eyebrows raised. "I've a feeling he's here to stay."

C HAPTER 4

    I T WASN ' T QUITE as good as riding in Feyland. But it was pretty close.
    Trotting around the schooling paddock with the sun on her face and a light breeze to keep her cool, Corinne found it hard to stop a huge grin from spreading across her face.
    Until she realised that she had an audience.
    Hanging over the post and rail fence at the bottom of the paddock were Sonya and her cronies, whispering to each other between furtive glances at Corinne on Ghost.
    Hard not to feel paranoid and assume they were talking about you.
    She steadied Ghost back to walk and turned towards the far corner of the paddock, where there was a gate out into the woods. Think I'll see how he enjoys the countryside. Away from prying eyes.
    Light dappled the dirt path through the trees, pockmarked with hoofprints where the clay soil had dried after that last bout of rainy weather. The stillness of the wood made her recall the magical forest in Feyland. "Does it remind you of home, boy?"
    An ear flicked back, but he plodded quietly onwards until they came to a fork in the path. Right would take them on a longer route through the forest; left would take them to a harvested field and then they could loop back to the farm. "We should probably head back. I want to try and play Feyland again this afternoon." She guided him to the left.
    When they got to the harvested field, a thrill of excitement tingled through her at the sight of the freshly-cut barley, dotted with rectangular bales of straw. There was something about a stubble field which seemed to invite even the most placid of horses to run—to gallop like a racehorse in the Cheltenham Gold Cup, racing the wind and skimming the ground with hooves hammering, lungs straining and heart pounding.
    As if he'd read her mind, Ghost's pace picked up, and he tossed his head and lightened his shoulders in anticipation. "You want to run, boy?" She could feel the grin tickling her lips again. "Okay!"
    With only the slightest encouragement, he was off; racing up the field like the Wild Hunt was chasing him once more. But instead of veering away from the straw bales which were haphazardly strewn where they'd dropped out of the back of the combine harvester, he headed straight for the nearest set of bales.
    Really? He wants to jump them? She hardly had time to blink the wind-blown tears from her eyes before they were flying through the air over the first bale. The next bale lay some distance ahead at a slight angle, but his long stride took them there in a few heartbeats and he sailed straight over it, ears pricked and