The Painted Ponies of Partequineus and The Summer of the Kittens Page 4

  “Guaryntis did,” Christina said.

  “Isn’t there some way you can break the spell?” Vanessa asked. “In all the stories I’ve ever read, there’s always some way to do that.”

  “There is,” Emma said. “If we can reach the big green forest on the other side of the desert, we’ll be free. The forest is called Paximus, and it’s ruled by Princess Melisande.”

  “A hundred years ago,” Christina said, “there were only three boys and two girls in Partequineus. I was one of them. Princess Melisande went to Guaryntis and pleaded with him to let us go. He didn’t want to make the Princess angry, so he promised her that he would lift the spell if any of us decided to go and live in Paximus.”

  “Why don’t you go there, then?”

  “Guaryntis won’t let us. He always stops us when we try,” Alyssa said. “You saw what happened when you and Alexander tried to cross the desert.”

  “Alexander and I?” Vanessa said in amazement.

  “Alexander was the pony you were riding.”

  Vanessa was stunned. She sat down on the grass and thought quietly for several minutes, puzzling over what Alyssa had told her. It was hard to believe that the magnificent black and white pony was also the handsome boy she’d met the first time she came to Partequineus.

  “There must be some way to escape through the desert,” she said at last.

  “Maybe there is,” Christina said. “Maybe you can help us find a way. But first you have to understand what happened here years ago, and how we came to be in this place.”

  “It’s going to be hard to believe,” Kathy said.

  Vanessa laughed. “After what’s happened to me so far, I’m ready to believe anything.”

  THIRTEEN

  “Let’s go for a ride,” Janie begged.

  “Okay,” Christina said. “We’ll ride along the beach. Guaryntis doesn’t pay any attention to us there, and we can tell Vanessa the whole story.”

  She turned her head and whistled softly. Instantly they heard the sound of hoof beats, and seven painted ponies came galloping over the hill. Large and small, they all had saddles on their backs, and bridles and reins, too. They pulled up in a cloud of dust, snorting and pawing the ground, eager to be on their way.

  “Climb aboard, everyone,” Christina said. “Smallest girls on the smallest ponies. Let Vanessa go with Alexander.”

  The children each selected a pony, and they hoisted themselves up into the saddles. The black and white pony that Vanessa had ridden before approached her and stretched out his head. She touched his mane.

  “Alexander?” she said tentatively. “Is that really you?”

  The pony reared up and tossed his head, whinnying loudly, then turned so she could put her foot in the stirrup. She mounted up gracefully.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said.

  “It’s true,” Christina told her. “Because of the spell, the boys must be ponies all day long, and we girls are ponies every night. That’s why we can never talk with each other.”

  “But why?” Vanessa asked.

  “That’s the way Guaryntis wants it to be,” Alyssa said.

  “Let’s go,” Christina said. “We’ll ride down by the water. It’s cool and pleasant there. I’ll tell you the whole story as we ride.”

  The sun hung low in the sky as the seven ponies made their way along the shore of the sea, sometimes wading in the water, sometimes stepping carefully among the driftwood and shells that littered the beach. Vanessa rode between Christina and Grace.

  “It all started about two hundred years ago,” Christina said, “although time doesn’t mean much here in Partequineus. Here it’s always today. But back in the other world, something important happened. A man and his wife came to live in a small town - your town, Vanessa. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and they built a pretty little house and settled in to raise a family.”

  “That’s the house where I grew up,” Grace said, “and where you and your mother are living now.”

  “But what they didn’t know,” Christina continued, “was that the exact spot where they decided to build was right on the border between Here and Everywhere Else.”

  “Here and Everywhere Else?” Vanessa echoed.

  “That’s right. Every mystical kingdom has exactly one place where it intersects with the real world. That’s what holds everything in the universe together. But most people don’t know that these connections exist.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they don’t believe,” Grace said. “Adults lose the power to see beyond what their brains tell them must be true. Once people get to be fourteen or fifteen, they lose their sense of wonder.”

  “What happened to the Bakers?” Vanessa asked.

  “That,” Christina said, “was the beginning of the painted ponies of Partequineus.”

  FOURTEEN

  In time, Mr. and Mrs. Baker had a daughter (Christina said). Her name was Jane. She was a charming little girl, and her parents were very proud of her. She was kind and obedient, and did her chores faithfully, always with a cheerful smile. She never gave her parents any cause to worry.

  The thing that Jane loved most in all the world was to go for a ride in Mr. Baker’s carriage, pulled by their beautiful golden palomino pony, Daffodil. One day Daffodil gave birth to a foal, and Jane begged to be allowed to take care of the tiny, spirited animal. She named her Sunbeam, and fed her and groomed her and took her out for exercise every day. Sunbeam was a paint, with a glossy white coat decorated with golden patches. Jane loved her very much.

  Sadly, when Sunbeam was just six months old, she took sick with a fever and died. Jane was heartbroken. She spent days in her bedroom, crying and pining for her lost friend. Her mother and father didn’t know how to console her. They hoped that as the days passed by, she would get over her grief and once again become happy and carefree. But that didn’t happen.

  One day, a Friday afternoon at four o’clock, Jane sat in her bedroom, thinking about Sunbeam. She began to sing a little song, one that she made up herself.

  “Painted pony, painted pony, what a lovely sunny day,” Jane sang. “Painted pony, painted pony, how you love to run and play.”

  And Guaryntis, who was out strolling on the other side of the border between Here and Everywhere Else, heard her singing and poked his head into Jane’s bedroom.

  Now Guaryntis wasn’t a dragon in those days. That happened later, after he grew mean and selfish. When he looked into Jane’s bedroom that afternoon, he appeared as a gentle old man with a white beard and kindly brown eyes. And he said, “Hello, Jane. That’s a beautiful song you’re singing.”

  Jane knew she mustn’t talk to strangers. She ignored Guaryntis and made up a new verse to her song.

  “Painted pony, painted pony, running ’neath the sky of blue. Painted pony, painted pony, how I wish I could be you.”

  And the old man’s face twisted in an evil, crafty smile. “You can be a pony if you want to,” he said softly.

  Jane looked at him in surprise. She became so excited that she forgot the rule about not talking to strangers. “Can I really?” she said. “How?”

  “It’s easy,” Guaryntis said. “Just take my hand, and we’ll go where little girls can be ponies whenever they like.”

  Jane pulled back. “I’m not allowed to go anywhere without my mother and father,” she said.

  “You can come right back,” Guaryntis said, “any time you want.”

  And Jane, who was so sad and lonely over the loss of Sunbeam, stood up and gave her tiny hand to Guaryntis, and the purple mist swirled around them and carried them off to Partequineus.

  FIFTEEN

  Jane and Guaryntis stepped out of the purple mist and onto a barren plain where everything was grey and lifeless, next to a cold, dark ocean where waves washed angrily over jagged rocks.

  “Where is this place?” Jane cried out. “I don’t like it here. It makes me feel sad.”

  “It’s sad b
ecause there are no children in Partequineus,” Guaryntis told her. “But now that you are here, all that will change.”

  And Jane looked down at the ground and saw a tiny blade of grass beginning to push its way up through the ground. She smiled, and her smile lit up the world like the sun, and instantly the barren plain became a beautiful green meadow.

  “What’s happening?” Jane said.

  “You did it,” Guaryntis said. “You made the grass grow.”

  Jane laughed merrily, and her silvery giggles fell like raindrops on the ground, where lovely red and blue and yellow flowers began to spring up. A sparkling brook cascaded down from the mountains and washed through the meadow. Lush, tree-covered hillsides thrust out of the ground to the west, and the more Jane laughed, the brighter the world became.

  A child’s happiness can do that.

  Hand in hand, Jane and Guaryntis wandered about the meadow for the rest of the afternoon, among fine, tall trees that suddenly appeared where before there had been only dirt and stones. The jagged rocks beside the ocean smoothed out to become soft pink sand, and the brilliant blue-green water was grey and stormy no more.

  At last the sun dropped low in the sky, and Jane said to Guaryntis, “Thank you for showing me all the wonderful things here in your land. But I better go home now.”

  “Don’t forget what you came for,” Guaryntis said. “You want to become a pony, don’t you?”

  “Can I really do that?” she said excitedly.

  “Of course,” Guaryntis said, and as the sun disappeared behind the mountain peaks he cast the spell that turned Jane into a perfect image of her beloved Sunbeam.

  All night long Jane explored the wondrous land of Partequineus, dashing about among the flowers on her tiny hooves, running up and down the hills with the wind tossing her golden mane and long, flowing tail. She galloped along the beach beside the vast shining ocean. She pranced among the trees and climbed the mountains to the west, where she stood and admired the whole valley, the land that her laughter had transformed from barren and ugly to vibrant and very, very beautiful.

  As dawn approached Jane became tired, and she lay down among some soft broad leaves beside a stream and went to sleep. When she awakened some time later, the sun was high in the sky, and she was a little girl again. She sat up and looked around, and saw Guaryntis coming toward her.

  “I had the most wonderful time,” she told him joyfully. “Thank you for letting me be a pony for a while.”

  “You’re welcome,” Guaryntis said. “Would you like to do it again?”

  “Oh, no,” Jane said. “I have to go home. My mother and father will be worried.”

  “Why not stay just one more day,” Guaryntis said slyly. “You haven’t seen all of Partequineus yet, and when the sun goes down, you can be a pony again, and run and play all night long.”

  And Jane decided that to stay for one more day wouldn’t hurt. But Guaryntis had lied to her. He had no intention of ever letting her go home. In fact, he had decided to send the purple mist back into her bedroom every Friday afternoon, in the hope that some day another child would live there, a child that he could steal away to help make Partequineus even more beautiful than before.

  SIXTEEN

  “Is that how you came to be here?” Vanessa asked Christina.

  “That’s how all of us got here,” Christina said. “Guaryntis is very tricky, and he fooled us all, just like Jane.”

  “How old was she when he captured her?” Vanessa asked.

  “Janie was only five.”

  “Janie?” Vanessa said.

  “That’s right,” Christina said, looking back at the smallest girl astride the smallest pony. “That’s what we call her now. Janie has been here for two hundred years.”

  “I can’t believe it!” Vanessa said in amazement. “How can she be two hundred years old?”

  “She isn’t,” Grace said. “She’s still five, just as she was when she came here. No one ever gets any older in this world. But it’s very sad.”

  “Why?” Vanessa said.

  “Because she’s never had a chance to live her life. Everyone deserves that. No one should remain a child forever. We should be able to grow and learn and… and contribute to the world. We have to be teachers and street cleaners and cooks and doctors and carpenters. We have to become scientists and taxi drivers and mechanics and musicians and pilots, and all the other things that keep the world working properly. And Janie hasn’t had that chance. None of us has.”

  “Her poor parents,” Vanessa said. “They must have wondered what happened to her.”

  “You still don’t understand,” Grace said. “Where Janie’s mother and father are, it’s still two hundred years ago. If we can only figure out a way to break the dragon’s spell, she’ll go right back to where she came from - to when she came from - and live out the rest of her life there. Her parents will never even know she’s been gone.”

  “That’s amazing!” Vanessa turned to Christina. “And would all the rest of you go back to your own times and places in the real world, too?”

  “That’s right,” Christina said. “But the dragon won’t let us.”

  They reached the end of the beach, where the sand gave way to rocks and steep cliffs. The ponies turned away from the water and moved inland. They could see the desert ahead of them, glowing a bright and ominous yellow in the sunlight. Vanessa shivered, remembering the giant black cloud that was Guaryntis, trying to capture her and keep her in Partequineus forever. But she also noticed that the big green forest of Paximus, where Princess Melisande lived, was much, much closer than when they were back in the meadow.

  “How did Guaryntis become a dragon?” Vanessa asked.

  “Janie says it happened gradually over many years. He had broken his promise to let her go home because he was selfish. He was afraid that if Janie left him, Partequineus would wither and fade away, and become drab and lifeless like before. But when people become selfish, something inside them changes. They grow to be mean and cruel. That’s what happened to Guaryntis, except he changed on the outside, too. He became a dragon.”

  “Why does Guaryntis turn you into ponies only at night?” she asked Christina, “and the boys into ponies only during the day?”

  “We’re not exactly sure,” Christina said, “but I think it’s because if every one of us tried to gallop across the desert at once, it would be too hard for him to stop us all. If even one should ever reach Princess Melisande’s forest, all of the rest of us will be set free, too. She told us so.”

  “Then we have to do it!” Vanessa exclaimed. “We have to figure out a way for all of you to cross the desert at one time, and confuse the dragon so much that somebody will make it through. I’ll help you.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Christina said. “The dragon knows you don’t belong here in Partequineus. If he sees you trying to help us, he’ll go after you first, and you’ll have to stay here forever.”

  “I don’t care!” Vanessa said. “There isn’t any other way to break the spell.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The sun dropped low in the sky, and the ponies turned around and headed back, anticipating the rise of the three moons and the time when the changes would take place again. One of them was lagging behind, the pony that Alyssa was riding. He strayed close to the edge of the desert.

  That pony’s name was Steven when he was a boy, and he was fearless and courageous, as brave as Alexander. He looked up at the dying sun, then turned his gaze toward the distant forest. It’s getting dark, pony-Steven thought to himself. And it’s a much shorter distance to the forest from here. If I run, just before the sun sets, maybe Guaryntis won’t notice me until it’s too late for him to stop me.

  He looked around at the others, who had moved off up the beach. Seated in the saddle, Alyssa was growing impatient. “Hurry up,” she said. “Everyone is leaving us behind.” She tapped Steven’s flanks with her heels.

  Steven reared up, as if about to run off aft
er the others. But instead he wheeled around and plunged into the desert, the yellow sand flying from his four pounding hooves. He lowered his head and poured all his strength into a headlong gallop to freedom.

  The ground flashed by beneath them, and Alyssa screamed in panic. She was terribly afraid of the dragon’s huge wings and long, sharp claws. She pulled on the reins, desperately trying to make the pony turn around, and Steven faltered and stumbled.

  But Alyssa also knew that if they reached the forest of Paximus, everyone would be free. She decided to take the risk. She let go of the reins and grasped the saddle and hung on tightly. Steven recovered his balance, seized the bit in his mouth, and flew off across the sand of the desert, hoping that Guaryntis wouldn’t see them in time to stop them.

  Mile after mile flew by beneath Steven’s flashing hooves, and Alyssa dared to hope that they would succeed. But they had left it too late. The blood-red sun was already too far in the west, and she watched in dismay as it slid behind the mountain peaks until just the barest sliver of light clung to the crest. Then that too slipped out of sight.

  The pony stumbled once more, his legs suddenly too weak to hold them both up. He crashed to earth, throwing Alyssa onto the ground as his body began to change. The saddle vanished, and a few seconds later, a golden bronze tunic appeared in the air above him and floated down about his shoulders. When at last he pulled himself to his feet, he was a boy again.

  He and Alyssa were stranded in the middle of the desert, too far from Paximus to have any hope of reaching it on foot. And as they stood there in despair, the great dark cloud-dragon rose up from the horizon and swept over them. He gathered them up in one gigantic wing and hurled them out of the desert all the way back to the meadow.

  EIGHTEEN

  Alyssa limped along the beach, favouring an injured leg. She and the other girls were all painted ponies once more. Back in their own bodies again, the boys were sitting in the meadow. Steven lay stretched out on the ground, bruised and battered and feeling miserable. “I failed,” he said sadly.