Pony Rebellion, page 1
Copyright © 2012 by Janet Rising
Cover and internal design © 2012 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Series design by Liz Demeter/Demeter Design
Cover photography © Mark J. Barrett
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Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
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First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Hodder Children’s Books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.
Source of Production: Versa Press, East Peoria, Illinois, USA
Date of Production: April 2012
Run Number: 17447
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Coming soon…
About the Author
Back Cover
To Sue and Tiffany, Karen and Shandycourt, Lesley and Solo, Jan and Moo, Nicky and Bridget, and my mount Libby—the first Havering Park Bareback and Bridleless Musical Ride!
OK, come clean, what have you all done wrong?” asked James, running his hand through his dark blond hair so that it stood up on end.
“Nothing,” said Katy, “but thanks for the vote of confidence—not! Besides, we might ask you the same thing!”
“I feel as though I’ve done something—even though I know I haven’t,” sighed Bean. “Er, Pia, what’s my feed scoop doing on your hay bales?”
“You left it there,” I told her, trying not to look at James. I feel kinda funny whenever he does that thing with his hair, and I was scared someone else would notice. “You’re always leaving stuff on my hay.”
“Am I? I wondered where that went,” Bean mumbled, casually lobbing her scoop back toward her corner of the barn—everyone had a sectioned-off part in the building where they kept their own pony’s feed and bedding. The scoop disappeared into the black hole of empty feed sacks, baler twine, and buckets that was Bean’s domain. It was easily the messiest part of the barn and so very Bean.
“What did Sophie say to you, Pia?” Katy asked, tying her red hair back behind her head with a band.
“She just said to be in the barn at ten o’clock Saturday because she had something important to say,” I told her, remembering that Sophie had winked when she’d told me, which I had found a little weird.
“Mmmm, that’s what she said to me too,” Katy said, frowning. “What do you think she’s up to?”
“She’s late, anyway,” remarked James, looking at his watch. “If she’s not here in two minutes, I’m going. Anyone want to go riding? I thought I’d take Moth up to Badger’s Copse then back through the hillside for a good ride.”
“So you’re in on whatever it is too, are you?” asked Katy.
“Of course!”
“I’ll come riding with you,” I told James.
“Mmm, me too,” said Katy.
“Count me in,” added Bean. “I couldn’t ride last night so Tiffany will be fresh. Plus it’s cold today, so she’ll be even livelier.”
It was cold, the sort of dry cold that usually follows a heavy frost. The sun was out, but it was too early in the morning to compete successfully against the chill. Even in the barn I could see my breath hanging in the air like mini clouds as I spoke—but I love frosty mornings. They’re so much better than those dank, dark, dismal, drizzly days that put everyone in a bad mood, especially me. It was early November, and the ponies were all clipped and in at night. I thought of Drummer, rugged up and warm in his stable. He was bound to put in a buck or two on our hack before settling down, especially if the other ponies were fresh too. I’d have to keep my knees in and my heels down if I wanted to keep admiring the scenery, rather than sitting in the middle of it.
Suddenly, we heard a car in the drive. Two doors slammed shut.
“At last!” said James, as Dee-Dee and her mom, Sophie, appeared at the barn doorway. “Now maybe we’ll find out what the big secret is!”
But Sophie, as usual, was on her cell phone. “Yes, OK,” she said, nodding (don’t know why, whoever she was talking to couldn’t see her). “I’m just about to ask them now. Yes, that’s right. No worries. Absolutely. Sure thing. I’ll get back to you directly, Linda, and let you know what we’ll be doing. Sure. OK…” Dee-Dee looked at all of us and rolled her eyes. I heard James sigh. Well, it was more of a huff, really. And then someone I didn’t want to see walked through the barn door.
“Hi, Cat!” said Katy. “Are you in on this big mystery as well?”
“What mystery?” Cat asked, her short, dark hair sticking up in that sassy way it does, giving her the sort of air about her that stops you from messing with her. “Sophie just asked me to be here at ten so here I am.”
My heart sank. Catriona and I do not get along. Actually, that’s an understatement; we don’t just not get along, we don’t get along in an epic way. In the past, Cat has plotted against me, plotted against Drummer, and wasted no opportunity to diss me in front of anyone passing by. She used to go out with James (which was the best way to get to me—only I’d die if anyone knew that), which means that things are sometimes a bit strained between the two of them now. She’s the only negative at Laurel Farm, where I keep Drum. Oh, and she’s adamant that I am not a Pony Whisperer—even though I can totally hear what horses and ponies are saying (under one important condition) and everyone else is on board with it. I think that’s our relationship in a nutshell. Except that when I went away on a riding trip with Bean in the spring, leaving my beloved Drummer in the capable hands of Katy, it was Cat—through a cruel twist of fate—that ended up looking after him. And, naturally, I then had to thank her when I returned, especially as she’d looked after him really well. Only when I’d thanked her and given her the gift I’d intended to give to Katy, Cat had shrugged her shoulders, just mumbling an OK at me. It had been awkward. Since then we’ve gone back to avoiding each other.
Sophie finally snapped her cell phone shut and looked around at us all. “Thanks so much for coming,” she began, smiling. She was wearing riding clothes and looked very glamorous—something showing people seem to be able to do without effort. “I have a proposition to make to you all.”
“Isn’t that something to do with grammar?” Bean whispered to me, on planet Bean, as usual.
“That’s a preposition,” I whispered back. “I think…”
“My friend Linda is manager at the Taversham branch of the Riding for the Disabled Association. You’ve probably heard of it,” Sophie began.
We all nodded. Taversham was about ten miles away from Laurel Farm.
“Well, Linda is putting on an Equine Extravaganza in their indoor school at Christmas to raise funds, and she’s asked me to organize an event to be included.”
“If Sophie thinks I’m baking cakes or selling programs she’s crazier than I thought,” James whispered to me under his breath.
“Shhh,” I said. I thought Sophie was strange too, but she was strange in a totally horsey way so I forgave her.
“So I thought it would be wonderful for everyone here to take part in a musical activity ride and perform it on the night of the extravaganza,” Sophie concluded. “It’s for a great cause, it will be so much fun, and I’m sure you’ll all get a lot out of it.”
I haven’t told you everything about Dee-Dee’s mom, have I? She isn’t the sort of person you say no to, even if you wanted to. She has a show horse called Lester and Dee shows her own pony, dappled gray Dolly Daydream, at all the top shows. Not just for fun—Sophie is dead serious about it, and poor Dee is always having lessons and training when she’d rather be out riding with us. Only Dolly’s very expensive so she can’t—mainly because we’re always flying around the country out of control. As Sophie finished speaking, Dee looked puzzled. “Are you including me?” she asked.
“Yes, of course!” Sophie rep
“Who am I going to ride?”
“Dolly of course. Who do you think?”
“Really?” Dee’s jaw dropped. “How come?”
“All the practices will be on soft ground in the school, so there should be no problem with her legs,” her mother replied. “Honestly, Dee, who else would you ride?”
“It sounds like a great idea,” enthused Katy. “But what exactly is an activity ride?”
“It’s a musical ride where you’ll go over small jumps in different formations. Sort of like the Rockettes but with horses. And more jumps. You get the picture?” Sophie explained. “It’s spectacular. I’ll give you all a letter explaining it for you to take home and get your parents to sign. They have to be totally on board with you all doing it and agree to the practices as well as the performance. Obviously you won’t need one, Dee,” she added.
“It sounds really cool!” cried Bean, suddenly enthusiastic.
“You mean I can jump Dolly?” Dee asked incredulously.
“Yes, Dee. They’re only tiny ones—bunny hops—just stop pushing me about it!” said Sophie impatiently.
“It’s a miracle!” breathed Dee, falling backward on a hay bale in a mock faint, completely flabbergasted.
Dee wasn’t the only one who was surprised—I couldn’t believe Sophie was being so casual about Dolly either. It was unheard of.
“Count me in,” said James. “Just let me know what you want me to do and I’ll be there with Moth. The RDA is a fantastic cause, and it sounds like a great thing to do.”
“Me too,” said Bean. “There’s no way Tiffany and me are being left out!”
“Wild horses wouldn’t prevent Bluey and me from being in it too!” agreed Katy, bouncing up and down on a feed sack in excitement.
“And me,” I said. It sounded like fun—I’d always admired pony performances and wanted to do something like it, and now here was my chance. I felt a tiny flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach. I pictured Drum and me sailing over jumps in style, bursting through hoops of paper, soaring through jumps of fire. I imagined a packed gallery clapping and cheering us all in admiration. It would be like being on a TV reality show or something. I mean, how fantastic!
“You can definitely include me and Bambi,” said Cat enthusiastically.
The flutter of excitement inside me died, plummeting like it had been shot, and I chewed the inside of my cheek. How was that going to work, me and Cat on a team together? Riding together? Practicing together? Oh for goodness’ sake, I thought, we could stay at opposite ends of the ride and pretend that the other wasn’t there. I was sure that would work.
It had to work. I wasn’t going to be the only one not included in Sophie’s activity ride—it sounded like too much fun!
Now you’ve warmed up I’ll put up a few jumps to see how the ponies tackle them. Who wants to lead?” asked Sophie, leaning back against the fence of the outdoor school and looking at us all.
“I will,” volunteered James, steering Moth to the outside track and halting. Katy and Bluey slipped in behind them, followed by Cat with Bambi, Bean and Tiffany, Dee and Dolly, and finally, me and Drum, trying to get as far away from Cat as possible.
“What’s all this about?” asked Drummer, his black-tipped ears twitching. With his blanket clip, he was two-tone bay—all shiny and smooth on his front half, all mahogany and fluffy on the back.
“It’s very exciting,” I told him. “We’re in training for an activity ride!”
“No need to ask who’ll be responsible for all the activity!” snorted Drum.
I had my two-thousand-year-old stone statue of Epona, Celtic goddess of horses, in my jacket pocket, which is how I can hear what Drummer says. Ever since I found the stone statue of a woman sitting sidesaddle on her stone horse, when Drum and I first moved to Laurel Farm, I’d been able to hear what horses and ponies were saying. The only person who knows that Epona takes the credit for me hearing ponies is James—everyone else believes I’m a Pony Whisperer. Well, explaining would be too tricky, and everyone would want Epona, wouldn’t they? That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.
Sophie manhandled the yard’s lightweight jump blocks into the outdoor school in a line of twos, placing a single pole on each pair to make five jumps in a row along the center. They were only a couple feet high, but without wings we had to meet them in the very center of each pole to avoid the ponies running out.
“OK, I want you to go over these individually, then we’ll try it as a ride,” said Sophie.
James, Katy, and Cat each did well with the line of jumps. Bean’s palomino mare Tiffany, however, was sort of scared.
“Five jumps? In a row? You what?” I heard her snort, drawing herself up to look at least a hand bigger than she was.
“I’ll just be a minute,” explained Bean, who was used to her pony thinking everything was out to get her. She rode Tiffany around the jumps until she settled—a little—then headed for the first one. Tiffany has a unique jumping style where she sticks her head up in the air and hurtles at the fence like it’s a power wall. She could get away with this approach under normal circumstances, but with a row of five jumps, Tiffany was almost on top of the second jump as soon as she landed after the first, giving her the perfect opportunity to do two outs—run out and freak out.
“Not quite the idea,” said Sophie dryly, putting her hands on her hips.
“She’ll be OK, she just needs to get used to it,” grinned Bean.
“I hope so, Bean,” said Sophie, “because Tiffany has to jump in a rhythm for this to work. Can you practice on your own until she does?”
“Yes, of course,” nodded Bean. “I’ll get Pia to help me.” Oh thanks, I thought. Then I realized she wanted me to talk to Tiffany and explain why it was important to jump properly. I could do that, no problem.
We all turned, fascinated, to watch the novelty of Dee and Dolly going along the line of jumps. We’d never seen them get totally off the ground before—Dee had always been banned from doing anything interesting. But beautiful Dolly took it all in her stride.
“Jumps! Wow!” I heard her say, pricking up her ears and cantering toward them. Sophie had bandaged her legs for protection, and Dolly popped neatly over each jump, her swaddled legs a blur of pink wool.
Then it was my turn. As I headed Drummer for the grid of jumps, I heard him chuckle and my heart sank.
“Shall I run out? Shall I refuse? Shall I trot over some, canter over others, and kick another over?” I heard my bay male horse plotting. But he didn’t do any of those things. He popped over them like a perfect pro. What a little liar! I heaved a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to end up having to practice something I knew Drum could do in his sleep—if he wanted to. Or, worse, for us to get rejected from the ride before we’d even begun. Showing off in front of Cat came into it too.
“Great!” enthused Sophie. “You’re all wonderful—except you, Bean, but you know what you have to do. Now put yourself at the back, and we’ll try it as a ride.”
That went sort of OK. Drummer got very excited, being the last to go, and Moth, going all out as usual, was over the last jump before Bluey, behind her, had gotten over the first, but we managed it.
“OK, not bad,” said Sophie. “We’ll come back to the jumping later. Now I want to see how you and the ponies go as a ride. Stay in the order you are and ride around the outside track while I get rid of these jumps.”
So we did. I was glad Tiffany and Dolly were between Bambi and Drum. Not only could I see the others from that position, but Drum and Bambi were sort of a thing these days. When we first got here, Bambi hated Drummer, although he (for some unfathomable reason) thought she was the best thing since sugar cubes. Things didn’t improve until Drummer found Bambi after she’d been stolen, and ever since then Bambi has warmed to Drum. She’s warmed to him to the point of being scorching hot, and now the pair of them are like those annoying couples you see during breaks at school—totally gross! When I see Drum and Bambi nuzzling each other in the field I think, Ahh, sweet, but when I’m riding Drummer, and he’s supposed to be working, and he starts sidling up to Cat’s skewbald mare and being all sappy, I just think it’s annoying.
