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14. LEAVEN FEATHERLY
A horse and a barelegged rider flashed onto the path.
The suddenness of the horse was fire whirling in front of the visitors. “Bringing greetings to the wayfarers, Veronna. Your company is the most charmed in any scene, I lay you that,” said the slim man, riding the horse. He was not unlike Rainbow, the children noticed, in voice and grace, but his skin was lighter, cream-colored, and his manner of speech was more poetic.
“Leaven! Leaven Featherly!” Veronna lifted her arms and shouted enthusiastically.
The rider slid off the horse and landed in front of his shimmering green pal—and the two greeted each other with a momentous hugging. As the old friends laughed, Veronna turned to the children and extended her hand—palm to the sky.
“This is Freegirl, from the mountain of gold over yonder, and this is Tyber, her escort from the Big Bend.”
“Welcome with sincerity to the land of the obscure—where the horses know.” And with a little wink, Leaven Featherly tapped his fingertip against his nose, lightly, and eyed the children with amusement. He loved the puzzled look he created upon their faces.
But before the children could return his greeting, they were again, amazed by his presence.
Leaven floated like a feather onto his horse’s back.
The bloodline the man was born to had a talent for floating. People who mastered this accomplishment were called Airwalkers.
Tyber had never seen anything like it, and it made his stomach queasy. Freegirl was inspired by the move.
All Children of the Glimpse knew floating, or levitation, was possible, but to actually see someone airborne was mind-rattling, especially when it was unexpected.
“Whew!” exclaimed Tyber, who leaned against his horse for support, and to catch his breath, while Freegirl breathed deeply.
The amazing man said, “I lay you this. It is no possibility, the catching of the breath, for the catcher attempts to hold that which is free.” He smiled, squinted his eyes invisibly, and with his silly grin, continued. “And remember…” his eyebrows lifted, as he spoke, “the horses know.” With a wink, he tapped his nose one more time.
Freegirl and Tyber viewed the puzzling man calmly—then he scampered away upon his horse and disappeared into the wall of trees. They both had their mouths open, as they pondered the words he’d left for them. Why did he keep saying 'the horses know'?
Big as a tree, Veronna watched her young acquaintances. With her animated, round face grinning in green, and her eyes filled with amusement—she smiled while the children stared stupidly, at Leaven Featherly’s horse galloping into another world.
“Who in the fates was that?” asked Tyber, still in shock, while Freegirl looked awe-struck.
Veronna just kept smiling.
Looking at Freegirl, Tyber added, “Whoever he was, our escort here, smiles— loving his presence—witty with riddles.” Though the boy’s eyes were wide, his voice was kind. “Now what?” he asked, with a serious glare towards Veronna, as the young one tried to break through the green lady ’s endless grin, and laughing eyes. He was trying to master his vertigo, and staring into her eyes helped him.
“Well,” said Veronna. “We are welcome. Why don’t you two hop upon Wilson and gallop into that clearing?” She pointed as she spoke. “The terrain is firm—free of rocks and holes—and you could use some air. Go to it! I'll find you later.”
She knew Leaven Featherly’s affect would over-dazzle them, so she did not ask them to go fetch a horse. Instead, she offered. “Maybe I will find you a beast.”
Clutching the holy basket and her carriage horse, Veronna walked into the direction of Leaven Featherly.
The evening was darkening—the dusk had a hint of light in it. Wilson and his riders were no longer heavy with a load, and were able to gallop with spirit. The skittish teens, and the antsy horse did not hesitate into motion. They burst onto the void of green with abandonment birthed of necessity—the children needed to exercise the tension created by the floating man, and Wilson needed to show off for the wild horses of the Verdure Ring.
After Tyber and Freegirl had given the horse a rush by sprinting around the Circle, the visitors of the grove came to an old, oak tree, gnarled. Here, they stopped and dismounted.
The Fireye was setting, the evening was still warm, and the nightly summer rains had not yet come. The children were thankful for the calm weather.
In this paradise, they sat upon the grass near Wilson, who was tied, and all watched the beautiful equine.
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