The Black Stallion and the Lost City (16 page)

“Let’s talk about the money for a minute,” Alec
said. “Are you saying everything is free here? How do you people pay for it all?”

Nicholas smiled, as if amused by Alec’s skepticism. “Upon arriving in Acracia,” he said, “people deposit their money in the bank and are given credit in the city’s shops and eating places. Guests are welcome as long as they obey our laws. Strangers and trespassers are not. Once here, most guests stay for the remainder of their lives.”

“Do you mean that no one ever leaves this place?” he said.

“It would be impossible to leave Acracia for most of us. And why would we even want to leave? You can keep your modern civilization, its ravages of time and old age, its wars, famine and disease. Here in the Realm, life is good. We citizens of Acracia accept that this is the best of all possible worlds. You will know this to be true if you stay with us.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Alec said.

With a bow, Nicholas spoke again, his voice more humble now. “Of course, you are not an ordinary guest and may do as you wish here, but please do not dishonor my house by leaving before you can truly be made welcome.” He gestured to a small empty field outside an open window. “Look, please,” he said. “Allow your horse to graze a few minutes before you go. The grass is rich and green here in Tarta.”

Alec welcomed the chance to get outside and try to digest all he had just heard. He led the Black to the pasture and realized that it was later than he thought; the sun was already descending behind the mountains. Once again, ominous-looking rain clouds were gathering in the sky to the north and a not-so-distant rumbling filled the sky. A minute later, it started to rain.

Alec brought the Black inside, toweled him off and rubbed him out again. Nicholas watched Alec as he worked. “He is a fantastic animal, your Bucephalus,” Nicholas said. “One truly worthy of Alexander and the messenger of the gods of Greece.”

“I am from America, not Greece,” Alec said.

Nicholas smiled. “No matter. The fact is you are in Acracia now. Your coming was foretold by the Oracle, and you are here.”

“We got caught in a river, were swept through the mountain and almost drowned. That is the only reason we are here,” Alec said.

“That is also a sign that was foretold.”

Alec looked at Xeena. From her mesmerized expression, it appeared that she really did think this man was her grandfather and that the wild things he was saying could be true.

“Okay,” Alec said, “believe what you want. You are right. I am a messenger from the gods. My message is that you guys are great. Thanks for everything.
Keep up the good work. Now how the heck do we get out of this place?”

“Please, Alec,” Nicholas said. “Do not be so quick to judge us. There is much to learn here.” His words were punctuated by another long rumble outside.

More thunder, Alec thought, though he was surprised that it shook the furniture and rattled the dishes.

The Black whinnied. “Easy boy,” Alec said. The stallion bobbed his head and leaned into Alec’s shoulder. “That’s it. Just some thunder. Easy now.”

The sounds of wind and rain grew stronger. Not much sense in trying to make a run for it now, Alec thought. He watched the Black nose around in the fresh grain Xeena brought him. The stallion didn’t seem anxious to go back outside just yet either.

No, Alec decided. The smart thing to do was to wait. However nutty this place seemed, he couldn’t see harm in anything they were doing. Alec trusted the Black’s instincts far above his own, and the stallion didn’t seem to be too alarmed about being here.

Later that evening at dinner, they ate corn and potato soup, grapes, cheese and yogurt, everything fresh and flavorful. As they ate, Xeena told Nicholas about their jobs on the
Young Alexander
film set and about meeting Alec and the Black. She explained that the
Black was a famous racehorse and that only Alec could ride him.

“Like Bucephalus and Alexander,” Nicholas said. “Again I say this is no mere coincidence. It is your destiny to have found your way here.”

Alec started to say something and then held back. Better to go along, he thought, at least until he could find a way out of here. It wasn’t up to him to prove Nicholas was a fraud, and who knew? Maybe he wasn’t.

Alec looked down into his glass and swirled the contents. The water tasted so clean and pure it was almost sweet. Certainly it contained minerals of some kind. Alec figured he’d been drinking it since yesterday with no ill effects, so there didn’t seem to be any reason to stop now. Quite the opposite, he thought. In some ways he couldn’t remember when he’d felt as strong and clearheaded. There was no disputing that he had almost forgotten about the twisted ankle that had troubled him so much yesterday.

Nicholas raised his glass. “Blessed by the milk of the sacred mares, the waters of Acracia will cure sickness and will restore youth and health. It seems an inexcusable loss that the secret of the water is not shared with mankind. Science could tell us much if studies could be made—if only we could get the message out.”

“Why don’t you?” Alec said.

“It’s not that simple,” Nicholas said with a wry smile. Despite his youthful appearance, his face was that of someone who had seen that life is a much greater riddle than most people suspect.

“Perhaps you are the one Fate has chosen to do just that, the courier who will take our message to the outside world,” Nicholas said. “Perhaps that is what the Oracle meant about a messenger. Perhaps Acracia is sending the message, and not receiving it.”

Night had fallen and the rain continued. Alec cleared the dishes and Nicholas made coffee while Xeena set up a backgammon board. Alec sipped a cup of thick, sweet coffee and went into the Black’s room and looked out the window. He could hear water dripping and leaves rattling and could see dark branches swaying in the wind as it rose and fell.

As he gazed at the world outside, his supper settled in his stomach and mellowed his mood. What a fascinating place this is, he thought. The Black seemed to be enjoying it too. Maybe Nicholas wasn’t so off base, after all. Maybe he should spend a little more time here and try to find out what this place was all about.

Lightning flashed across the sky and more thunder rumbled. The sounds snapped Alec back to reality. What were these thoughts in his head?

Stay here, in this place? What was he thinking? He didn’t belong here. The people in Acracia weren’t just guests in a resort. They were part of some bizarre health cult. Even more alarming was the realization that something inside him was on the verge of succumbing to the idea of staying here. It was almost as if some unknown force was trying to rub away all his concerns and responsibilities. His thoughts about the past were jumbled and confused, though he felt incredibly alert in the present. Deep in the back of his mind, a voice told him this wasn’t right, that he wasn’t thinking correctly, that these weren’t his thoughts inside his head but someone else’s.

He went to the basin to splash some water on his face, water clear as winter ice in the candlelight. Whatever was happening to his body, it was his imagination that now needed soothing more than anything.

He returned to the living room where Xeena and Nicholas continued their board game on a low table by the fire. It was a lovely domestic scene—a cozy room lit by the soft glow of firelight, everything warm and safe and dry. Even the Black seemed relaxed. Alec fought to keep his mind alert and his guard up.

As the night wore on, Xeena and Nicholas talked together over their game, easily switching back and forth between English and Greek. Soon Alec found he was getting sleepy. Nicholas offered up his bed, but
Alec said he wanted to stick close to the Black. Nicholas said he understood and brought blankets to keep Alec warm. Xeena found a place on the couch in front of the fire.

Alec lay beside the quietly dozing stallion. He resolved to be up before dawn so they could start the journey away from here, rain or no rain. Pulling his covers up to his chin, Alec listened to the raindrops falling outside like plucked violin strings. Soon he was drifting off, again returning in his dreams to the banquet in the megaron. He could see the swirling figures of dancing horses and people, the slender form and veiled face of the priestess Cyrene as she ran her hands over the albino mare. Then they were soaring up over the gardens together, circling higher and higher, past the guard tower, past the acropolis wall. Around them flower blossoms blew through the air like dry leaves caught in an updraft.…

Alec was awakened by an explosion of sound, first the fierce cry of the Black and then another sound even more forceful.

At first Alec thought it must be thunder, until he realized he had been thrown out of bed and was now lying on the floor. No mere thunderstorm could do that. There were crashing noises coming from the other side of the house and sounds of breaking glass.
The floor beneath him was rising and falling as if washed by rippling waves. Hunks of plaster were breaking loose from the walls and ceiling. It wasn’t the first time Alec had experienced something like this, and instantly he guessed what was happening.

Earthquake!

He looked around the room. The door was off its hinges, and there was no sign of the Black.

Alec screamed for his horse. The ground was so unsteady beneath him that he didn’t even try to move. All he could do was hang on to the floor and wait for the tremor to pass. Again Alec heard the wild clarion call of the stallion from out in the night, only this time another horse shrilled a reply.

Finally the floor ceased shaking enough that Alec could move. He leaped to his feet and raced outside over the still-unsteady ground. The rain had ceased, and a bright, full moon illuminated the shapes of two rearing horses. One was the Black. The other was the ghostly albino mare Celera. They seemed to be dancing in the air, several feet above the rolling moonlit earth below. Then they turned and dashed away across the field.

The Black tore
into the night. He was free again, and the ground had ceased to shake beneath his hooves. His nostrils filled with the unearthly scent of the mare running before him. She sped toward a high wooden fence spanning the far end of the pasture, glimmers of moonlight splashing her pale white coat.

The mare barely slowed as she gathered herself for the jump. Then she sprang into the air and was flying over the top rail to come down lightly on the other side. Instantly she was off again in full stride, galloping along the road out of Tarta. The Black burst into a run and charged the fence behind her. He leaped forward, taking the fence at a gallop. Touching down, he skipped into the air again, stretching out his neck, his great strides swallowing up the dark ground beneath him.

There was a sharp curve in the road ahead, and the mare followed it. The Black rounded the bend less than a dozen lengths behind her. Straightening out
again, he extended his stride and continued on at full speed.

The Black threw back his head and gave a piercing cry, calling in vain to the ghostly apparition running before him. As he closed in to overtake the defiant mare, the albino suddenly broke off the road, vanishing where a trail led into the woods. The Black ducked under a branch to follow until his way was slowed and finally blocked by snakelike vines hanging from the branches overhead. All at once, he could barely move. The vines caught his neck and pulled at his legs. Thorns stung his flesh. He fought to break free, finally escaping the tangle of vines and bolting up the trail.

The path led to a moonlit clearing. Breaking into the open, he began sniffing the air, seeking some scent to tell him where to go. Not finding it, he cried out in frustration and burst into a run, dashing off in one direction, then another. He pulled up finally and waited. Soon his ears caught faint, tinkling sounds in the wind. There was an odor there as well, something unknown but somehow familiar and inviting.

Following the strange signs in the breeze, the stallion could soon make out the dark shapes of horses moving in a glade at the far end of the clearing, a pair of mares dancing in the moonlight. They passed each other with even strides. Their tails flicked back and forth, whisking to a soft rhythm pulsing in the air.

The cloaked figure of a young woman stood on a large rock near them. She held a horseshoe-shaped object close to her chest. From it emanated the soft raindrop-like sounds that had led him there. The Black watched and waited as the mares moved in time and revolved around each other. Though the albino wasn’t there, he sensed she wasn’t far off.

For many moments, all was still but for the padding of hooves in the grass, the relaxed breathing of the horses and the soft strains of music floating on the air. The mares were aware of the stallion, but they did not stop their dancing or break their formation. Then one turned to him. She pranced in place and bobbed her head as if inviting him to join them. The other mare continued her soft parading and watched him with sly, secretive glances.

There was a sudden drumming of hooves. The melodic strains of the strings stopped. A cry cut the air and standing beside the cloaked woman’s perch was the albino. Her cry and sudden appearance unsettled the intricate passage of the two mares, and they suddenly collided into each other.