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Dove leaps into action, hooves digging up half circles of dirt behind her, and we tear after Finn

Finn’s path is no mystery; he has to follow the roads, and there’s only theinto Skarh It winds around patchwork fields protected by stone walls and hedges There’s no sense following his serpentine progress, marked by a trail of dust Instead, Dove and I tear across the fields Dove is not large -- none of the natural island horses are, as the grass isn’t great -- but she’s scopey and brave So she and I throw ourselves over hedgerows at will, so long as the footing’s good

We shave off the first corner, spooking several sheep "Sorry," I say to theerow co the sheep, and Dove has to twist herself in a hurry to launch herself over I throw out reins in the world’s worst release but at least keep froht beneath her and saves us both As she canters away froain and pat her shoulder to show that I noticed her rescuing us, and she tips her ear back to show she appreciates that I cared

Then it’s sailing across a field that used to hold sheep but now holds scrubby heather waiting to be burned off The Morris is still a little ahead of us, a dark shape in front of a tower of dust I’et a car down to the beach, he’ll have to either take the road through toith its sharp right angles and crossing pedestrians, or iving us a good chance to catch up

I hear the Morris hesitate at the roundabout and then zoom toward town I can take the road around Skarh the very edge of the town, popping through a few back gardens and risking being seen by Gabe at the hotel

I can already ie onto the beach

I decide to risk Gabe seeing y old ladies can’t coh their yards, as long as I don’t squash anything useful

"Coes across the road and through a break in a hedgerow Here there are houses looking like they grew out of the rock, and cluttered back gardens full of possessions that have spilled out of the houses, and on the other side of them, a stretch of solid stone that no horse should have to canter on The only way across is to tear through a half-dozen yards and past the hotel on the other side

I hope that everyone’s busily at work at the piers or in their kitchens We burst through the gardens, half leaping over wheelbarrows in the first, avoiding a crop of herbs in the second, and getting barked at by an evil terrier in the third Then, inexplicably, over an old, empty bathtub in the final yard, and we’re off down the road to the hotel

Of course, there is Gabe, and he seesthe walk in front of the hotel with a , ivy-covered building behind him, the leaves cut in neat squares to let the sun into the ith their bright blue sills The height of the hotel blocks the ht and casts a deeper blue shadow on the stone walk he sweeps Gabe looks tall and grown-up with his brown jacket stretched across his broad shoulders His gingerblond hair creeps down the back of his neck, a little long, but he is still handsoe of fierce pride that he isto lean on the end of the broom and watch me canter by on Dove

"Don’t be mad!" I shout at him

A smile walks over one side of his face but not the other It almost looks like he’s actually happy, if you’ve never seen one of his real ones The sad thing is this -- I’ve gotten used to this fake one I’ve beco to wait for the real one to reappear, without realizing I should’ve been working hard to find it again

I canter on, urging Dove into a gallop once we’re off the walk and back onto the grass Here, the ground is soft and sandy, and begins to slope rapidly, the track beco narroeen the hills and dunes that lead to the beach I can’t tell if Finn is ahead of me or behind rows too steep Finally, she makes the aard leap that takes us down to sea level When we round the final bank, I make a noise of irritation: The Morris is already parked where the grass s in the air, cupped by the rise of the ground around us

"You’re still a good girl," I whisper to Dove She is out of breath but she blows out her lips She considers it a good race

Finn stands half in and half out of the car, the driver-side door standing open, his feet on the running board One arm rests on the roof and the other on the upper part of the open door He is looking out toward the sea, but when Dove blows out her breath through her lips again, he looks back tohis eyes I can see that his face is worried, so I nudge Dove next to the car I let out the reins so that she can graze while we stand there, but she doesn’t lower her head Instead, she, too, turns her gaze toward the ocean, a hundred yards ahead of us

"What?" I ask I have a sick feeling in my storay head thrusting its way above the surf, so far away and so close to the color of the tossed ocean that I can al it But Finn’s eyes wouldn’t be so large unless he was certain Sure enough, the head eain, and this tie of red in them, even from here Then the rest of the head follows, and the neck, crimped mane pasted to its skin by salt water, and then the powerful shoulders, glistening and dahty leap, as if the final steps over the incoe obstacle to overcoallops down the beach toward us, and I lay a hand on his elbow, thoughin my ears