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“Sebek, that’s not going to work.”
“For a horse named Breeze, you are remarkably stubborn!” Sebek bellowed, ignoring Silver. He yanked harder on the reins in his hand. His horse snorted and refused to budge from her spot by the stables, where Sebek was trying to lead her toward the practice yard. Breeze flicked her ears, snorting in what Sebek could only assume was defiance.
“FOOLISH HORSE, LISTEN TO ME!” Sebek shouted louder. Breeze whickered and stepped away, her tail whisking and ears going back. Dried autumn leaves crunched under her hooves. He had been working with this horse for a week now for equestrian practice, and it seemed like every day she wanted to work less and less!
“Sebek, enough, you’re scaring her,” Silver said.
“DON’T BE COWARDLY, BREEZE!” Sebek demanded.
Silver sighed. “Look,” he said, walking closer. He reached out, palm flat, letting the horse sniff his hand. Her ears swept forward in clear interest. “Riddle assigned you this horse for a reason. You need to learn to be calm and quiet around the horses. You—”
“Don’t talk down to me, Silver!” Sebek snapped. “Not all of us laze around and call animals to us naturally!”
“At least think,” Silver said, still infuriatingly calm. “How would you feel if someone came over and started screaming in your face?”
“I would shout back!” Sebek said. “I wouldn’t be afraid!”
The corner of Silver’s mouth turned up, just slightly. “Oh? Remember when father jumped out at you that one Halloween in that ancient mask? I’ve never seen you run so fa-“
“THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HORSES, SILVER!” Sebek shouted, earning a confused stare from the other students in the club who were readying their steeds. “AND I AM NOT A SCARED CHILD ANY LONGER!”
“Well, you may be brave, but your horse isn’t, and you need to work together with her,” Silver said. “Maybe learn to listen to her, and get a sense of how she’s feeling.”
Sebek huffed. “If my horse is afraid, she only needs to listen to me!” he pulled hard on the reins, and this time Breeze took a step forward. Sebek told himself it was because of him and not because Silver was giving her a friendly scratch on her nose. “See?!”
“You still need to work together with your horse,” Silver said. “You won’t get anywhere doing everything yourself.”
“Maybe you won’t, but that’s because you don’t work hard enough!” Sebek said. He leapt onto Breeze’s back, gripping tight when the animal moved anxiously beneath him for a few moments. “I’ll prove it today during practice when I beat you!”
“Fine,” Silver said, in that annoying way that Sebek knew meant Silver didn’t believe him. “Let’s see if you can.”
Sebek gripped the reins tighter as he guided Breeze to a walk. It was a contest, then!
Sebek rose Breeze out to the practice yard, shivering slightly when a cold wind, a breeze like the one Breeze was named after, cut through his riding clothes with its chill. Breeze whinnied. Maybe she was cold too.
Soon enough, Silver rode his horse out to the yard as well, Silver’s head drooping as if he was near sleep. Typical.
“Today we’ll be doing trail riding practice,” Riddle said. He rode Vorpal expertly, the horse turning as he spoke so everyone could hear him without Riddle seeming to do anything. It was impressive. “There are twenty ribbons tied to trees in the forest around the stables. Everyone’s task is to find one and bring it back here. I will show you the trail to ride where the ribbon will be. Listen to your animal. If—”
Sebek stopped listening. Trail riding? Simple! He would find his assigned ribbon and be the first back to the stables, and show Silver who the real equestrian was!
He wasted no time as soon as Riddle indicated which trail everyone would ride. Sebek’s was a trail he knew, having ridden a bit of it in the past during practice, though never alone. He kicked Breeze’s flanks hard, the horse huffing, and guided her toward the edge of the forest.
“Good luck, Sebek,” Silver called from his own trail entrance, one that ran parallel to the school’s grounds. “Remember to listen to your horse. You’ll need to, to beat me.”
A thrill went through Sebek. “Don’t cry when I get back first!” Sebek shouted. Then he guided Breeze through the overhanging trees.
This would be a simple task, he was certain. The trail he was assigned wasn’t difficult, though he guessed he would have to ride farther than he had before. But even so, the forest wasn’t big, probably only 50 acres or so. And on a trail, it was impossible to get lost. All he had to do was speed up, and he was sure to beat Silver back.
Sebek clicked his fangs together to urge his horse on, the animal’s ears flicking nervously. Sebek had never learned to click his tongue the way Silver did, but it worked well enough, he thought.
Dead leaves crunched beneath Breeze’s hooves, and more cold wind blew, even colder than before. More autumn leaves swirled, the branches rustling with a high-pitched hiss that sent goosebumps down Sebek’s back.
Foolishness. He was just cold, that was all. He urged Breeze to a trot, hoping the faster pace would warm him up. More leaves crunched, Sebek growing used to the sound.
He clicked his fangs again, and Breeze snorted but kept trotting, a bit faster than before. Overhead, the sky had grown pale, clouds covering the sun. Sebek had good night-vision, but it was still dimmer than he would like for afternoon practice. It was a bit strange.
The sound of rushing water met his ears, and then Breeze stopped dead. Ahead lay a short, covered bridge, covering a small stream.
Sebek blinked in confusion. Since when was there a stream in the forest here? The only bodies of water he knew were the ponds near the greenhouse. But sure enough, water ran beneath the bridge, running off toward the dense forest cover.
His heart rate picked up. But this must be part of the task. And if he kept pausing, he would lose to Silver.
“Hurry up, Breeze!” he said. He clicked his fangs.
His horse didn’t move. Sebek kicked her flanks, but Breeze didn’t budge, shaking her head as if refusing.
“Fool horse!” Sebek snapped. “There’s nothing to be frightened of! It’s just a bridge!” He kicked harder, almost feeling bad when Breeze whinnied in protest. But finally, she stepped forward.
Her hooves thudded on the wood of the small bridge. Sebek felt tense, every sense alert for some reason, but there was nothing strange about it. His mind must be playing tricks on him. There was nothing here, just him and his foolish horse.
But he did urge his horse to a canter, hurrying over the bridge and down the trail. It was just so he would beat Silver, of course. He wasn’t afraid!
Breeze’s hooves kept crunching on the leaves, until suddenly the sound changed from crunching to a heavy snap.
Breeze whinnied and nearly bucked, Sebek grabbing the reins while also craning his neck to look down at the ground. His heart leapt.
Bones.
No, it couldn’t be. It was just branches in a pile on the ground, a pale white bark he didn’t recognize. He wrestled with the reins, getting Breeze under control. It was just sticks, nothing more.
“Enough, horse!” he demanded.
Breeze finally stopped threatening to buck, but her ears still twitched every which way. Sebek couldn’t resist glancing around too, even while telling himself his horse was just being foolish. It was just the woods near campus. Even though…
Those white sticks. The pale bark of the trees nearby. He didn’t recognize it. Lilia had taught him about trees, and he was fairly sure these didn’t grow near campus. The trees looked skeletal, most of the leaves fallen, the bark ash-grey. He couldn’t see the sun among the cloud-covered sky.
It must be some sort of tree sickness, he thought. Or maybe the trail just led into a strange grove. He just had to keep moving, that was all. He would get the ribbon, get back, celebrate his victory over Silver and make Malleus proud.
Something hooted overhead, and Sebek gripped the reins tighter. Owls should be asleep right now, shouldn’t they?
Another sound came from ahead, leaves crunching in all-too-familiar rhythm. He grit his teeth. Hoofbeats.
Had another student beaten him here? Had Silver? It couldn’t be. He dug his heels into Breeze’s flanks, the horse whinnying and shaking her head. She was refusing to move, again!
“Foolish horse!” Sebek shouted. “Silver is going to beat us!”
A cold wind blew, the bare branches near them rattling. The hoofbeats grew louder. They had to hurry!
She reared when he kicked again, and he barely held on as she ran, then bucked. He held his breath, clenching his teeth, as she panicked, the ridiculous horse terrified of something. Something foolish, he was sure. The wind, or maybe the owl. There were no predators near campus, nothing more dangerous than a rabbit. Right?
“Calm down!” Sebek demanded. Breeze was running on her own, the reins pulled out of his hands, a blind panic, dashing through the woods on no trail Sebek could see. He tried to steer her, yanking her in a circle, then back toward where he thought the trail was. Branches slapped his face, threatening to tear his skin, and Breeze’s hooves skidded on the ground. He had never ridden a horse this fast, and could only fight to stay seated, yanking on the reins when he could to try and get the animal to stop.
“Fool horse!” Sebek bellowed. He ducked as Breeze galloped beneath a branch, into a dark copse. It was there he finally yanked hard enough on the reins, leaves skirling as Breeze skidded to a stop, still fighting the bit.
Sebek gasped for breath, thighs aching. He blinked at the dimness of the copse, the white skeletal trees somehow in shadow. Where were they?
Then a shape appeared out of the darkness. A rider, on a black horse.
For a moment, Sebek was angry. He had gone on to another student’s trail. He was so far from his own task, there was no way he would beat Silver now.
Then he realized the rider had no head.
The rider turned, in a motion even smoother than Riddle had on the practice yard, a black cape moving in the chill breeze. A sword swung out in an arc in one hand, and in the other, the rider hefted a whip, preparing to strike his horse’s flank to run.
The whip was no whip at all, but someone’s skeletal spine.
Sebek froze in terror.
The black horse snorted, condensation from its hot breath forming in the cold air.
Breeze acted for him, turning to run. The rush of air from the sword ruffled Sebek’s hair, and cruel laughter that could only come from the torn neck of someone with no head and mouth filled the sky.
His heart pounded so loudly in his ears it drowned out the sound of the hooves of the black horse behind him. The whip struck the animal’s flanks, a horrible sound, and the sound of the hooves grew faster. Breeze ran, galloping even faster than before, Sebek’s anger and annoyance and desire to beat Silver swallowed up in fear he hadn’t felt since he was a child.
Underneath it all, he realized that Breeze had saved him. Learn to listen to her. Silver had said it, and he should have listened to Silver then too.
He had to listen now. He gripped the reins, letting Breeze lead, the wind rushing through his hair. He risked a glance back, and wished he hadn’t. The horseman was gaining on him, still headless, the sword held aloft, ready to strike.
Sebek grabbed his pen, summoning the first bit of magic he could think of. A burst of flame arced toward the figure, but nothing happened. It went straight through it, the horse and rider both not stopping. Maybe he had missed. Or maybe it wasn’t real. Or maybe…
Sebek turned and leaned forward, the way Riddle did when galloping, clinging to his horse. He had to escape. He had to get back to the trail. If only he knew where it was!
The horrible laughter grew louder. Something whooshed overhead, and branches sliced from the horseman’s sword rained down around Sebek’s shoulders.
He needed to get away!
All he could hear were hoofbeats, the laughter, and the sound of the skeletal whip as the horseman drew closer. Sebek leaned down, protecting his neck, whispering to Breeze.
“Please,” he said. “Please, if you get me out of here as fast as you can, I’ll never yell at you again!”
Breeze ran, and then something caught Sebek’s hearing. Something that wasn’t the horseman, his enormous demonic horse, the swishing sword, or the cracking skeletal whip.
“Sebek?” Silver’s voice in the distance. “Where are you?”
Sebek grabbed the reins, just enough. He guided Breeze, letting the horse run. Toward Silver’s voice, toward the trail, and then the bridge came into his view.
Yes. Faster. He never looked back, his horse’s hooves echoing loud on the wood of the bridge and over the water, and then suddenly Silver was there, his purple eyes wide.
“Silver!” Sebek screamed. “Run!”
He hurtled over the bridge, past Silver, into a sunny day where there had been clouds before. Breeze stumbled, the frenzied gallop slowing to a walk and then finally to a stop, both Breeze and Sebek gasping. When he finally turned around, Silver started at him in confusion.
There was no bridge. There was no horseman.
There was nothing there.
***
“I’m telling you,” Sebek shouted. “I saw it! It had no head and rode a black horse and carried a sword and whip!”
“Sure you did,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “And that’s why we were all dragged out here looking for a hallucination.”
“At least it’s exciting?” Deuce said.
“At least it gets us out of class!” Grim crowed happily.
Sebek grumbled. “This isn’t a vacation!” he shouted from atop Breeze, his horse’s ears flicking. “There was some sort of…headless ghost!”
“I’m just surprised the headmaster cared enough to send us out here and look,” Jack said with a sigh. “Even if it’s just him, the first years and you equestrian guys.” Near the treeline, Riddle rode Vorpal, looking for signs of the ghost. Close by, the headmaster himself waited, stroking his chin in thought.
“He probably thinks a haunting would make the school look bad,” Ortho said. “I mean a dangerous one,” he added when Yuu looked like he was going to state the obvious about the circumstances of Ramshackle dorm and the myriad of ghost residents.
“It was more than a ghost, it was…” Sebek had no idea. Lilia’s ghost stories ran through his mind, but none matched what he had seen. It was like something from another world.
But he couldn’t shake the memory of the terror, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. He trotted away from the group, Breeze navigating the dense forest. But he didn’t move too far away, and didn’t push Breeze when she slowed.
“I believe you, for what it’s worth.”
Sebek jolted in the saddle, nearly falling, but Breeze stood placidly. It was just Silver, also riding his own horse, helping with the search.
“Silver!” Sebek shouted, then added, “you do?”
“Something must have happened. You don’t get scared for no reason. And now you’re actually listening to your horse.” Silver smiled, Sebek’s face heating.
“I’m not scared! And even if I was, of course I don’t get scared for no reason! Whatever it was, it was real! And it chased me and Breeze. Without her I’d be…” he didn’t finish the sentence, opting instead to pat his horse’s neck. He would keep his promise. No more yelling at Breeze. She was a good horse.
“Whatever it was, I’m sure it likely posed no real danger. You got away, after all, right?”
Sebek wished he could believe Silver’s calm words.
“Hey! Yuu found something over here!” Deuce’s shout made them both turn, urging their horses to a trot.
The vision made Sebek’s skin break out in goosebumps, but it was just a coat, not the cape of the horseman. But it was still…strange. The tattered coat hung on a branch, the wind playing among the frayed edges. It was old, Sebek could tell immediately, most of the fabric nothing but loosely connected string. It looked black at first, but upon closer inspection it was a dark green against the gray branches of the dead tree. It resembled fashions described in books Sebek had read, the cut and style matching things humans wore centuries ago. Whoever had worn it was clearly long gone.
Sebek drew closer, as did the rest of the search party, including the Headmaster. Yuu was there first, though, and Yuu's eyes went wide. The Headmaster frowned as Yuu spoke. "That name...it's so familiar."
The Headmaster reached for it, grabbing the frayed jacket with a curt "this old thing is quite meaningless, I'm sure." But not before Sebek saw it.
Sebek peered at the frayed fabric, at the pale letters faded by what must be decades, or even centuries, embroidered into the tattered coat collar.
Ichabod Crane.