Read Online White Horse Talisman by Andrea Spalding - Free Book Online Page B

Holly.
    â€œYou mean … ?” Adam stared at her.
    Holly nodded. “Yup. The Blowing Stone is real. It was dragged down from the hill to the village years ago.”
    â€œPeople said it made too much noise up there when the wind blew,” laughed Owen. “It’s in a cottage garden at the crossroads. Want to see it?”
    â€œYou’re having me on.”
    Holly and Owen grinned at each other and urged their ponies forward. Adam followed. They hacked through the village, along the lane and up to the crossroads. Holly dis–mounted and led Harlequin onto the grass verge, where she tied the reins to the bars of a gate.
    Adam and Owen followed suit.
    â€œThis way, Adam,” Owen called as he and Holly climbed a stile into a small cottage garden.
    â€œThis is someone’s yard. Should we be in here?” Adam hesitated halfway over the stile.
    Owen pointed out a small notice tacked onto a post. “It’s a historic site. We’re allowed to visit this part of the garden.”
    Holly patted a chest-high rock sitting in the middle of an unkempt lawn. “This is the Blowing Stone. See if you can make it work.”
    â€œYou mean blow into it?”
    Holly and Owen nodded.
    Adam walked around the stone. It was riddled with large holes and hollows, some full of dirt. A fern grew out of one hole and drooped artistically down the side.
    The stone was an irregular shape, but the top surface was roughly flat. Adam ran his hand over it. Then he spotted what he was looking for: in one corner was a small hole the size of a quarter. It was unlike the other sharp-edged holes and hollows. The rock around the edges of this hole was worn smooth and shiny. He stuck his finger in it. “Is this where you are supposed to put your mouth? It’ll never work.”
    Holly and Owen grinned.
    Adam bent forward, gingerly placed his lips around the hole and blew hard several times. Nothing happened. Red cheeked with effort, he straightened up to catch his breath.
    â€œYou have to make a seal all around the edge of the hole,” encouraged Holly. “Then try with your lips pursed. Like blowing a trumpet. But you need more air.”
    â€œJust blow a gigantic raspberry,” advised Owen.
    Adam laughed, took in an enormous lungful of air, pursed his lips, bent down and blew as hard as he could.
    A sputtering moan echoed through the garden.
    Four startled magpies burst out of a nearby hawthorn tree, squawking angrily, and landed on the cottage roof.
    â€œFour for a boy,” chanted Holly, clapping. “Adam, this just might be your lucky day!”
    Flushed with success, Adam blew again. The note was louder and longer but still not as impressive as he expected. “It makes a weird noise.”
    â€œYup. Sounds like a sick cow.” Owen grinned. “Go on … try once more. Pretend you’re King Alfred. But I bet you can’t make a sound that can be heard all around the vale.”
    Adam stretched up and breathed heartily several times.
    He walked around the stone again. “I think some of these holes have been stopped up on purpose,” he said. “That’s what makes it so hard to blow.” He picked up a small stick and cleared several of the cavities around the side. Finally he sucked in an enormous breath and bent over the Blowing Stone once again.
    BRoooooooooooooooooooooooooooom!
    The magpies took off in fright, and an astounded Holly clapped her hands over her ears. With a shout of laughter Owen headed for the stile as the note echoed and re-echoed around the garden, through the village and up over the downs.
    â€œHoly mackerel,” said Adam, amazed. “That’s loud enough to raise the dead. No wonder some holes were blocked.”
    â€œAmazing! I’ve never known anyone make that loud a sound. Come on, let’s get out of here in case we’ve made folks mad,” said Owen as he swung over the stile.
    â€œOr scared the