Dream of Night by Heather Henson

Author:Heather Henson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 2010-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

JESSALYNN

Jess has decided to try something new. She rides Seph right up to the porch, where the girl is sitting, her legs dangling over the edge.

The girl is surprised, scared even. Although she’s trying hard to hide it. She scoots backward, a crab scuttling, as fast as she can along the wooden floor. So Jess eases Seph back as well.

“What are you doing?”

Eyes flashing up at her, the familiar scowl after the surprise.

“I told you Seph wanted to meet you.”

The girl is about to say something smart, turn away, Jess can tell, but she also knows this: Seph is hard to resist. Especially up close. The big, dark eyes fringed with long lashes. The gorgeous face. The mouth, curving upward, as if smiling.

“What kind of name is Seph?”

The girl spits it out.

“Seph is short for Persephone. In old Greek myths, Persephone was a goddess of the underworld, a goddess of rebirth.”

“So?”

“So I think it fits her pretty well. When I found her, she was so thin, I didn’t think she was going to make it. But she did. She healed so quickly, it was like she had been born again.”

Hands curled into fists. Always ready for a fight.

“What do you mean, when you found her?”

“When I rescued her. That’s what I do. I help rescue horses.”

“From what? What do horses need rescuing from?”

“From people who don’t look after them properly. From bad situations.”

The girl doesn’t say anything for a while, but she is thinking. Jess can see the wheels turning. And she is moving closer. One millimeter at a time.

And Seph is waiting. Such a patient horse. So intuitive. Seph knows not to make any sudden movements or the girl will fly.

Fight or flight. The way a horse is wired. Either to kick out at what they don’t understand, or to run from it. Over the years Jess has come to find that humans aren’t wired so differently.

“Seph doesn’t bite,” Jess says in a quiet voice.

The click of the tongue, the roll of the eyes, both so familiar to Jess now.

“I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of some dumb horse.”

“I didn’t think you were. I just wanted you to know.” Jess pauses. “Some horses do bite. You have to be careful if you don’t know a horse and their habits. But Seph isn’t a biter.”

Inching closer.

“I found Seph in a pen with a lot of other horses. There wasn’t enough food, and so she was skinny because she’d had to fight for her share. She had a lot of bites and scratches from the other horses.”

Jess keeps talking. The girl’s fists begin to release. Slowly, so slowly you would miss it if you weren’t sitting on top of the horse, Seph is stretching herself out toward the girl. Waiting, waiting for the girl to make contact.

“Seph is part Arabian. That’s one of the oldest breeds in the world, one of the noblest. They originally come from Arabia. Every single one throughout the world can be traced back to those first horses, born in the desert.

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