Darcy by Whitney Sanderson

Author:Whitney Sanderson [Sanderson, Whitney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-97636-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-01-08T05:00:00+00:00

When we reached the center of the swamp, I felt a moment of disorientation. On this low ground, I could no longer see the far edge of the swamp, nor the path back to the road from which we’d come. I had only my instinct to guide me. I knew where the town was in the same way that a bird knows how to find its way home in the spring.

The moon came out from behind a cloud, illuminating a trail through the silvery surface of a flooded plain. And beyond it was the most welcome sight I’d ever seen—a grassy bank and a glimpse of the road that led into town.

In my haste to reach it, I stopped paying such careful attention to where I stepped. I felt my hooves sink into deep mud. I tried to turn back, but the soft earth sucked at my legs and held them fast. Panicked, I thrashed deeper into the deadly sinkhole. Fiona’s fingers clenched my mane, and black muck splashed her bare legs.

I had sunk up to my belly now. My instinct was to fight my way through the mud with brute strength. But if I did, Fiona could fall and be hurt. I had to get both of us out safely. Instead of stumbling deeper into the bog, I carefully lifted one of my submerged hind hooves. If I moved with aching slowness, the mud did not trap them. Only if I struggled did it bind me.

One painstaking step at a time, I backed out of the pit. It went against my every impulse, and my fear was multiplied by Fiona’s trembling hands as she clenched the reins. A step, and another, and more precious time ticking away. If only we had taken the road—perhaps we were already too late to save Mrs. McKenna and her baby.

Another step, and yet another. Now the ground felt solid under my hooves. Summoning the last of my strength, I backed the rest of the way out of the pit and then followed the raised path out to the road. Any passerby who saw us emerge from the bog would probably think they’d seen the dreaded kelpie or dullahan of ancient lore.

Mud splattered from my legs and haunches as I galloped into town, but that didn’t matter now. We had reached the doctor. Fiona pounded at the door, and a light went on inside the house.

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