Stormchaser and the Silver Mist

Chapter One

M
IA
woke with a start. She propped herself up in the darkness. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. But as her eyes adjusted, Mia saw the outline of her three best friends, fast asleep under mountains of duvets. Then she remembered – she was in Rosie’s bedroom at Blackberry Farm.

An icy mist had rolled in suddenly the evening before. It had moved like an incoming tide, forming what looked like great silver lakes over the meadows. By the time the girls had reached the paddocks to bring in their ponies, the ground was no longer visible and the hedges and trees surrounding the paddocks floated eerily, like islands rising from the silvery deep. The spooky mist had been too hazardous to drive through, and Mia’s dad hadn’t been able to collect the girls from the yard. So Rosie’s
mum, Mrs Honeycott, had suggested that Mia, Charlie and Alice should sleep over. Mia had leapt at the chance of staying at Blackberry Farm, where the four friends all kept their ponies. They spent every spare second they could at the farm as it was. But staying overnight was even more fun. Mia loved going to sleep knowing that her pony was just outside, safely tucked up in her stable.

They’d spent the evening in front of the glowing fire in Rosie’s cosy living room, tack spread out all round them. They had rubbed their tack until the leather was supple and the buckles shone. With only two more weeks left at school before they broke up for the Christmas holiday, the girls had chatted excitedly about what presents they were going to buy for their ponies.

After dinner they’d braved the cold to check on their ponies, then rushed up the creaky old stairs to get changed into Rosie’s spare pyjamas. Then, snuggled under duvets, they’d flipped through old copies of
Pony
Mad
magazine before finally drifting off to sleep.

Mia swished her silky black hair over one shoulder. She felt uneasy, wondering what had woken her so suddenly. She sat as still as a statue for a second and listened. But all she could hear was Beanie, Rosie’s brown and white Jack Russell, snoring loudly as he lay upside down on Rosie’s bed. Mia checked her mobile phone, which was lying next to her: 12.57a.m. She stroked Pumpkin, the huge ginger cat that was curled up near her pillow – he was the best hot water bottle in the world.

“Did you hear anything?” Mia whispered. The cat blinked his sleepy amber eyes and his purr started up like a cranky engine. Mia felt the rumbling under her hand. “No? Well, maybe I was dreaming, then.”

As she started to feel the pull of sleep again, she thought of her palomino pony, Wish Me Luck. Mia had put an extra rug on her part-arab mare last night, because it was so cold. She smiled, thinking about Wish delicately tugging at her huge haynet, or dozing quietly in her stable.

Mia yawned and shifted on her airbed,
snuggling back down under the duvet. She’d just closed her eyes, and was starting to drift off again when a distant neigh pierced the silence of the night, beyond the window. Mia jumped up, her heart thudding hard in her chest. A chorus of horse cries rang out in response, this time much closer to the cottage. In a flash, Beanie flew off Rosie’s bed. Charlie and Alice sprang out of bed at the same time, and rushed over to pull back the curtains.

“Is that
our
ponies making all that noise?” Charlie asked, her voice croaky with sleep.

“It
must
be,” Mia frowned, peering out. “There aren’t any other ponies around here.”

Rosie rolled over, rubbing her eyes. “Err, why is everyone out of bed?” she asked through a yawn, watching Mia yank a pullover over her pyjama top. “Ooh! Is it breakfast time already? I’m sure I’ve only just got to sleep…”

“Something’s upset the ponies,” Alice said quietly, as she unlatched the window and swung it open.

“Alice!” Rosie squeaked, burrowing deeper into her thick duvet in protest. “It’s freezing!
You’re letting in all the icy air!”

Suddenly another distant, frantic neigh echoed through the swirling mist. In an instant Rosie shook herself awake and jumped out of bed, hopping across the dark bedroom to join the others.

Alice peered into the heavy mist. “We can’t even see the yard gate from here, let alone our ponies.”

“We’d better get down there,” Mia said, turning round to grab the jods she’d neatly folded the evening before. The others began to drag their clothes on over their pyjamas.

Just as they were about to bundle out of the room, they heard a loud creak, followed by a slam and a couple of metallic clonks. The girls stopped in their tracks, looks of dread on their faces.

“Did anyone else think that sounded like a horsebox ramp being done up?” Mia asked, her blood running as ice cold as the mist outside.

“Yes,” Rosie squeaked. “But why would anyone be closing up a trailer ramp in the middle of the night, in
this
weather?”

“You… you don’t think someone’s trying to steal our ponies,” Alice choked, “do you?”

An engine started up somewhere beyond the farm.

“We need to get out there,” Charlie cried. “Quick!”

The four girls sprang into action. They dashed down the stairs, keeping as quiet as they could. Beanie excitedly wove in and out of their feet, almost tripping them up. They yanked on boots, in too much of a rush to think about jackets or scarves, then Rosie fumbled for the back-door key on the shelf. She dropped it in her panic and knocked heads with Alice as they both bent down to grab it. Once the door was unlocked, Charlie flung it open. The freezing mist enveloped them at once.

Rosie turned on the big, powerful torch she’d grabbed from the kitchen. But all it did was illuminate the thick fog, bouncing the light back at them and making it even harder to see. She turned the torch off and they stumbled towards the gate, feeling their way as they went.

“It’s closed!” Mia called out, hoping that was
a good sign. They quickly yanked it open, and ran into the yard. Through the dense cloak of mist, they made out their four ponies’ heads looking over their stable doors. The girls breathed huge sighs of relief that they were all safely in their boxes. But from the way the ponies were acting, it was obvious that something was seriously wrong somewhere nearby.

Rosie skidded across the frozen yard to Dancer. For once, her cobby strawberry roan mare didn’t mob her for treats. She was standing, just like the others, right up against her stable door. Her fluffy ears were alertly pricked as she looked out into the night, picking up sounds the girls couldn’t hear.

In the next stable along, Charlie’s sleek black thoroughbred Phantom paced his box, then returned to stand by his door. With his head high he towered over Charlie, staring out unblinking, his whole body trembling. Even when Charlie patted the outside of his rugged neck, he didn’t seem to notice that she was there. For a second Charlie felt a tingle of nerves. She’d been terrified of Phantom when
she first took him on loan, but over the spring and summer the pair had become inseparable, tuned into each other’s every thought. Charlie trusted Phantom with her life. But seeing him like this was a jolting reminder of just what an awesome horse he was.

Wish was the most sensible of the four ponies at Blackberry Farm, but she impatiently shoved Mia away with her muzzle, shaking her head and swishing her cream tail irritably. Alice’s dappled grey pony, Scout, was just as agitated as Wish. He let out a piercingly loud neigh. Alice covered her ears as her pony’s whole body shook. He set off another wild chorus around the yard, and a moment later replies echoed back from somewhere deep within in the sea of silver mist.

“Those neighs don’t sound very far off,” Charlie said, jogging over to Scout’s stable, where Rosie and Mia had already joined Alice. “There must be some loose ponies nearby.”

“We’d better try to find them,” Rosie said. “They could be hurt.”

Alice nodded. She was excited, but at the
same time, worried about what they might find.

Mia held up one hand to signal everyone to listen, and for a moment the girls held their breath. It wasn’t long before another round of desperate whinnies filled the night air. Then, in the heavy silence that followed, they heard the distant drumbeat of thundering hooves.

“Over here,” Mia grabbed the torch from Rosie and set off quickly to the far corner of the yard.

The others bundled after her. They clambered over the freezing metal gate at the side of the yard, into the sheep field. They jogged as fast as they could, tripping over tufts of grass, only able to see a few meters ahead. The torch beam pointed at the ground in front of them, bobbing as they ran. The sheep bleated anxiously, dodging out of the girls’ path as they crossed the field, making for the hedge at the far side.

“I hope we can find our way back in this mist,” Alice panted to Rosie, who was starting to slow. The silvery blanket hung heavily around them, dampening their hair and jumpers.

“We’re nearly there, come on, you two,”
Charlie called over her shoulder, impatient to see what was beyond the sheep field. They reached the thick hedge which marked the edge of Blackberry Farm. Beyond was a big, rolling, barren piece of land, nothing but scrub and bare patches of earth. Not that the girls could see any of that as they skidded to a halt.

Suddenly hoof beats thundered past, just beyond where they were standing. Alice caught her breath and gripped hold of Rosie’s arm in her fright. “They’re the other side of the hedge!”

Mia frowned. “But you can’t put horses there, it’s just common land. It doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Well, there weren’t any horses here yesterday,” Alice added as the ponies galloped past again.

“No,” Charlie puffed, “but then I reckon they’ve only just got here. Them calling out is what set our ponies off and woke us up.”

Mia frowned. “So, if it was a trailer or a horsebox that we heard earlier,” she puzzled, “the driver wasn’t out to
steal
ponies, they must have been dropping them off, instead.”

“Seriously?” Rosie questioned. “Who goes
round dropping off ponies in the middle of the night?”

The girls paused for a moment, feeling confused.

“Well, this hedge is too spiky for us to climb through to check on them,” Mia said, not wanting to rip her favourite purple hoodie. “We’ll have to go to the end of the sheep field, out onto Duck Lane, and get across that way.”

With the torch to guide them, they followed the line of the hedge to the end of the field. They climbed over the livestock gate, jumping down the other side onto Duck Lane. They’d ridden past the piece of common land a thousand times before, and the old, drooping five bar gate at the entrance was a familiar sight. It had never been locked, but it normally stood slightly ajar. Now it was pushed shut. Charlie started off in the direction of the gate, a determined look on her face, but Mia grabbed her arm.

“Careful where you step!” Mia urged. “Any clues will be ruined if you stomp all over them.”

Mia shook her head at her friend; Charlie should have known how important clues were
by now. After all, the four girls were fast becoming a crack detective team, specialising in solving horsey crimes. They’d called themselves the Pony Detectives after they’d reunited a stolen jumping pony with his owner, and the name had stuck. Since then, they’d got to the bottom of five mysteries. And there was Charlie, about to trample all over any possible evidence!

“We need to concentrate,” Mia reminded her friend, firmly.

“I’m trying,” Charlie said through chattering teeth, “but it’s hard when you’re half asleep and frozen to death.”

The girls crept alongside the frosted verge and carefully slid between half rotten wooden rails that bordered the common land. The mist was still so thick they couldn’t see far into the field. But suddenly the hoof beats thundered back in their direction. Alice gulped. If they couldn’t see the horses, then she’d bet that the horses couldn’t see them, either. And that meant they wouldn’t know to stop… until it was too late.

“Quick, back the other side of the fence!”
she squealed. They dived back through, snagging their jumpers on the wood. They turned back round just as two horses burst into the torchlight, the whites of their eyes flashing. The horses, one bay and one appaloosa, skidded to an abrupt halt at the fence. They turned, trotting with their tails high, snorting wildly before disappearing back into the mist.

“They’re not wearing any rugs!” Charlie gasped. “They’re going to freeze when they finally stop charging about! Who would have put them here without thinking of that?”

Before anyone had a chance to reply, the horses came storming round once more. They emerged out of the mist and slid to a halt near the gate. The bay opened his mouth and let out another desperate neigh, quickly picked up by the appaloosa.

“There’s no grass for them in this field,” Alice said, looking round anxiously at her friends.

“They’ve got nothing to drink, either,” Rosie pointed out.

“Well, if we do nothing else tonight,” Mia said sensibly, “I think we should at least bring
them over some hay and a couple of buckets of water.”

“The hay might help them settle, too,” Charlie said, hopefully, although she doubted much would do that as the pair spooked, spun round and thundered out of sight once more.