Kelpie Curse: A Feyland Urban Fantasy Tale (The Celtic Fey Book 2) by Roz Marshall
Authors: Roz Marshall
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C HAPTER 2
P HEMIE GLANCED AT the carriage clock on the mantelpiece and frowned. Who could be knocking on her door so late at night?
Knotting her burgundy dressing gown tightly around her waist and stuffing her feet into paisley-patterned slippers, she put her book down and shuffled through the hallway of the farmhouse, pulling a stout walking stick out of the umbrella stand as she passed. Just in case.
The security chain only gave her about three inches of view, but the sight on her front step caused a sharp intake of breath.
Opening the door properly, she moved into the porch.
"Mrs Irving," said the teenage girl standing in the pool of brightness from the security light outside. Dark skinny jeans and a canvas jacket made her slight frame seem even slimmer than she actually was, and her long, chestnut-brown hair fell in a curtain half over her face, in that way youngsters seemed to favour these days.
"It's Miss , actually." Phemie folded her arms.
The girl coloured. "Sorry, Miss Irving. I'm Corinne, Midnight's owner." Her face twisted. "Ex-owner. Corinne MacArthur?"
"Aye, I recognised you." Poor lassie's horse died last month. She jerked her chin at the horse standing behind the teenager. "Did one of the horses get out?"
"Uh—no." Corinne glanced back at the grey. "I— I found him. I was out for a walk and he was grazing there on his own. Nobody was around—I shouted and shouted. So I thought he'd be safer if I brought him here." She put a hand on the horse's nose. "Can he stay at the farm tonight? I'm sure he won't be any trouble. I can look for his owners again in the morning."
Stepping down from the porch, Phemie cast a quick eye over the grey. He seemed uninjured. "You're sure he hadn't dumped his rider somewhere?"
Corinne shrugged. "He wasn't wearing a saddle."
Or bridle. "And he just followed you here?"
Wrapping a protective arm around the horse's nose, Corinne nodded.
Phemie narrowed her eyes again, then glanced up at the sky. Wisps of cloud were dark fragments against the deep navy of almost-dark. The good weather was holding. "Put him in the front paddock with the sheep. He can't cause too much trouble there. We'll sort him out in the daylight."
"Thanks!" The girl's smile lit her elfin features, and she gently pushed the horse's nose around, steering him towards the gate.
"You will come back in the morning, won't you?" Phemie would be busy with the harvest tomorrow. She didn't need to be worrying about an orphan horse.
Corinne stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Of course." The horse's feet stopped moving as soon as the girl halted, like they were somehow in tune with each other.
"Where did you say you found him again?"
"On Chessaig Hill."
Chessaig. Faerie Hill. Curiouser and curiouser. She pursed her lips. "Put him in the field. I'll see you in the morning."
-::-
"There you are!" Her mother's voice was sharper than normal as Corinne pulled her key out of the lock and closed the front door behind her. "I was getting worried about you. Where were you till this time of night?"
"I'm sorry, Mum." Corinne shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the birch coat rack by the door. "Something… something strange happened on my walk."
"Strange?" The word came out an octave higher than normal, and mother's eyebrows disappeared somewhere up under her hairline. "Did someone…? I knew I shouldn't have let you go out so late on your own! Are you okay? What happened? Do I need to call the police?"
Holding her palms in front of her, Corinne took a step backwards. "No, nothing happened. Well, nothing bad, anyway."
"What!" Mother's eyes were starting to bulge, and a pulse was throbbing in her neck.
I'm not doing a very good job of explaining this. She should've rehearsed what she was going to say on the way home, instead of daydreaming about the unicorn. At this rate, mother was going to have a heart attack before she even had the chance to ask if she could keep him. "I just— I found a horse. A
P HEMIE GLANCED AT the carriage clock on the mantelpiece and frowned. Who could be knocking on her door so late at night?
Knotting her burgundy dressing gown tightly around her waist and stuffing her feet into paisley-patterned slippers, she put her book down and shuffled through the hallway of the farmhouse, pulling a stout walking stick out of the umbrella stand as she passed. Just in case.
The security chain only gave her about three inches of view, but the sight on her front step caused a sharp intake of breath.
Opening the door properly, she moved into the porch.
"Mrs Irving," said the teenage girl standing in the pool of brightness from the security light outside. Dark skinny jeans and a canvas jacket made her slight frame seem even slimmer than she actually was, and her long, chestnut-brown hair fell in a curtain half over her face, in that way youngsters seemed to favour these days.
"It's Miss , actually." Phemie folded her arms.
The girl coloured. "Sorry, Miss Irving. I'm Corinne, Midnight's owner." Her face twisted. "Ex-owner. Corinne MacArthur?"
"Aye, I recognised you." Poor lassie's horse died last month. She jerked her chin at the horse standing behind the teenager. "Did one of the horses get out?"
"Uh—no." Corinne glanced back at the grey. "I— I found him. I was out for a walk and he was grazing there on his own. Nobody was around—I shouted and shouted. So I thought he'd be safer if I brought him here." She put a hand on the horse's nose. "Can he stay at the farm tonight? I'm sure he won't be any trouble. I can look for his owners again in the morning."
Stepping down from the porch, Phemie cast a quick eye over the grey. He seemed uninjured. "You're sure he hadn't dumped his rider somewhere?"
Corinne shrugged. "He wasn't wearing a saddle."
Or bridle. "And he just followed you here?"
Wrapping a protective arm around the horse's nose, Corinne nodded.
Phemie narrowed her eyes again, then glanced up at the sky. Wisps of cloud were dark fragments against the deep navy of almost-dark. The good weather was holding. "Put him in the front paddock with the sheep. He can't cause too much trouble there. We'll sort him out in the daylight."
"Thanks!" The girl's smile lit her elfin features, and she gently pushed the horse's nose around, steering him towards the gate.
"You will come back in the morning, won't you?" Phemie would be busy with the harvest tomorrow. She didn't need to be worrying about an orphan horse.
Corinne stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Of course." The horse's feet stopped moving as soon as the girl halted, like they were somehow in tune with each other.
"Where did you say you found him again?"
"On Chessaig Hill."
Chessaig. Faerie Hill. Curiouser and curiouser. She pursed her lips. "Put him in the field. I'll see you in the morning."
-::-
"There you are!" Her mother's voice was sharper than normal as Corinne pulled her key out of the lock and closed the front door behind her. "I was getting worried about you. Where were you till this time of night?"
"I'm sorry, Mum." Corinne shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the birch coat rack by the door. "Something… something strange happened on my walk."
"Strange?" The word came out an octave higher than normal, and mother's eyebrows disappeared somewhere up under her hairline. "Did someone…? I knew I shouldn't have let you go out so late on your own! Are you okay? What happened? Do I need to call the police?"
Holding her palms in front of her, Corinne took a step backwards. "No, nothing happened. Well, nothing bad, anyway."
"What!" Mother's eyes were starting to bulge, and a pulse was throbbing in her neck.
I'm not doing a very good job of explaining this. She should've rehearsed what she was going to say on the way home, instead of daydreaming about the unicorn. At this rate, mother was going to have a heart attack before she even had the chance to ask if she could keep him. "I just— I found a horse. A
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