him properly.
The hair that came almost to his shoulders was black, his face fine-boned and sharply angled. His eyes were the blue of the iris flowers round Roseroot Pool, the blue of the horse’s eyes, extraordinarily vivid. He was, Jess found herself thinking, very good looking.
“Now
you’re
staring,” he said, to her horror.
“I’m not,” she blurted untruthfully. “I mean… Look, you were a horse, now you’re a person. Of course I’m staring.”
To cover her discomfort, she got to her feet.
“Take me to Freya. I came here to get her back. “Tell me what I’ll have to do to get her out of here.” Jess felt the colour sliding away from her face as the reality of her situation hit her again.
“Sit down again, and I’ll tell you.”
She came round the bed of ashes and sat down, closer tohim than she had been before, close enough now to see the thing round his neck. It was no longer the halter she had made. In Finn’s world it had become a torque of coloured metals, twisted together and bristling with tiny spines. Jess could see the red weal it had raised around his neck.
“Why did you take her?” she asked before he had a chance to speak. “You took the boys as well, didn’t you? Why did you take them?”
“I took your friend. The boys were taken by other Kelpies.” He gave her a searching look. “Do you care? Does it matter to you so long as you get your friend back?”
“Of course it matters,” Jess said angrily. “Why do you take them? I’m trying to understand. Tell me.”
He sighed, running his hands through his hair.
“You call us Kelpies in the Upper World, but we call ourselves the Nykur. Long ago, this land used to be full of Nykur. The herds were everywhere on the plains. The horses made a sound like thunder as they galloped, there were so many of us. In those days, we hardly ever took human form here, only when we visited your world, so that we could speak to you.
But now the Nykur are a failing race. We are long lived, but we don’t have many children – fewer still as the years pass. Some of them are sickly, some are taken by wolves when they are foals. There aren’t many of us left now. And so we take children from your world to bolster our numbers, to breed fresh blood into our families. They forget your world, and live among us instead. We spend more time in human shape now that most of us have people from the Upper World in our families. Children of mixed Nykur and human blood survive childhood more often than pure-bloods do. Half-bloods like me are hardier than they are. We are the only ones who risk going between the worlds regularly now.”
“One of your parents is human?”
“My father. My mother, Gudrun, is pure blood Nykur.”
“And your father doesn’t try to stop other human children being taken?”
“No. He is Nykur now. He has forgotten there was a time when he lived in the Upper World. He understands the need. He knows they will be happy here.”
Jess was suddenly conscious that she should be concentrating on getting Freya back, not on this. She decided to ignore the other questions crowding into her head.
“So how do I get Freya back?”
He looked at her in silence for a few heartbeats. When he spoke, his voice was level, almost expressionless.
“She is with my family. I’ll take you to where they are. She won’t recognise you; she has already forgotten the Upper World.”
Jess broke in. “But she will remember once she’s home, won’t she?”
“Perhaps. She’s not been here long. But I don’t know.”
“Will I forget where I really belong if I stay here too long?” she asked, fearful.
“No. That only happens when we take people to keep. It’s part of the spell when we take them between the worlds. It won’t happen to you.
“I’ll bring Freya to you. You must take her by the hand and walk towards the stream – I’ll show you. You mustn’t stop, and you mustn’t let go, whatever happens. If you can get her away
The hair that came almost to his shoulders was black, his face fine-boned and sharply angled. His eyes were the blue of the iris flowers round Roseroot Pool, the blue of the horse’s eyes, extraordinarily vivid. He was, Jess found herself thinking, very good looking.
“Now
you’re
staring,” he said, to her horror.
“I’m not,” she blurted untruthfully. “I mean… Look, you were a horse, now you’re a person. Of course I’m staring.”
To cover her discomfort, she got to her feet.
“Take me to Freya. I came here to get her back. “Tell me what I’ll have to do to get her out of here.” Jess felt the colour sliding away from her face as the reality of her situation hit her again.
“Sit down again, and I’ll tell you.”
She came round the bed of ashes and sat down, closer tohim than she had been before, close enough now to see the thing round his neck. It was no longer the halter she had made. In Finn’s world it had become a torque of coloured metals, twisted together and bristling with tiny spines. Jess could see the red weal it had raised around his neck.
“Why did you take her?” she asked before he had a chance to speak. “You took the boys as well, didn’t you? Why did you take them?”
“I took your friend. The boys were taken by other Kelpies.” He gave her a searching look. “Do you care? Does it matter to you so long as you get your friend back?”
“Of course it matters,” Jess said angrily. “Why do you take them? I’m trying to understand. Tell me.”
He sighed, running his hands through his hair.
“You call us Kelpies in the Upper World, but we call ourselves the Nykur. Long ago, this land used to be full of Nykur. The herds were everywhere on the plains. The horses made a sound like thunder as they galloped, there were so many of us. In those days, we hardly ever took human form here, only when we visited your world, so that we could speak to you.
But now the Nykur are a failing race. We are long lived, but we don’t have many children – fewer still as the years pass. Some of them are sickly, some are taken by wolves when they are foals. There aren’t many of us left now. And so we take children from your world to bolster our numbers, to breed fresh blood into our families. They forget your world, and live among us instead. We spend more time in human shape now that most of us have people from the Upper World in our families. Children of mixed Nykur and human blood survive childhood more often than pure-bloods do. Half-bloods like me are hardier than they are. We are the only ones who risk going between the worlds regularly now.”
“One of your parents is human?”
“My father. My mother, Gudrun, is pure blood Nykur.”
“And your father doesn’t try to stop other human children being taken?”
“No. He is Nykur now. He has forgotten there was a time when he lived in the Upper World. He understands the need. He knows they will be happy here.”
Jess was suddenly conscious that she should be concentrating on getting Freya back, not on this. She decided to ignore the other questions crowding into her head.
“So how do I get Freya back?”
He looked at her in silence for a few heartbeats. When he spoke, his voice was level, almost expressionless.
“She is with my family. I’ll take you to where they are. She won’t recognise you; she has already forgotten the Upper World.”
Jess broke in. “But she will remember once she’s home, won’t she?”
“Perhaps. She’s not been here long. But I don’t know.”
“Will I forget where I really belong if I stay here too long?” she asked, fearful.
“No. That only happens when we take people to keep. It’s part of the spell when we take them between the worlds. It won’t happen to you.
“I’ll bring Freya to you. You must take her by the hand and walk towards the stream – I’ll show you. You mustn’t stop, and you mustn’t let go, whatever happens. If you can get her away
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