The ring which hung at Steph's collarbone began to flicker pale purple; the Crests had a homing mechanism in which they would begin to glow if they were a good distance apart. This would ensure that the Mighty Ones could locate one another if they were ever separated, as the Crests would glow brighter as they became more distant from eachother. They wouldn't stop flashing until the Crests were touched against eachother. In Steph's case, however, this was a nuisance because the pulsing light was sure to spook the horses and the moonlight was just bright enough for Steph to make her way through the misty valley, so she tucked the ring into her dusty Sunnyvale High School T-shirt.

'I'm getting close,' thought Steph, stepping lightly through the damp grass, which was getting increasingly shorter as the whinnies and snorts grew louder. She lost her breath as the herd at last came within view, only a hundred or so feet from her. She clutched her ring through her shirt, partly to dim the flicker, which was now flashing like a strobe and partly because she had never been more afraid of anything in her entire life.

Their snowy pelts were soaked with dew and reflected blue moonlight. The creatures were almost indistinguishable from one another, a mass of shimmering ice blues and lavenders as far as her eyes could see. They moved as individuals and in unison; each creature it's own spirit but part of something far greater than anything one being could have created. Steph almost expected the see ivory horns spiralling from their foreheads but was not the slightest disappointed when she saw only wisps of hair. She stood with her jaw dropped and golden brown eyes widened as the herd parted and a single horse galloped in her direction.

Steph knew immediately that this was the alpha male. He was a massive and sturdy creature, untamed mane waving behind him like a writhing specter as he tossed his head aggressively. His ivory hooves hammered the chewed loam, each hoof barely visible through a cascade of ice cobalt hair. He snorted and reared twenty feet from where she stood while the herd fell back and watched, their ears pricked and nostrils flared.

Steph wanted to run, but the adrenaline had paralyzed her legs. 'He's going to charge me,' she thought, a trickle of sweat falling down her forehead. He paced before her, clouds of steam bursting from his flared nostrils as she tried to remember when her riding coach, Michelle, had attempted to break a wild stallion; they key to building an animal's trust is to respect their distance. Make them want to come to you. If they bolt, it was never meant to be.

Slowly and softly, Steph drew one step backwards, never letting her eyes leave the stallion's. His body was young and nimble, sinuous and powerful, but his eyes, like Norman's, were heavy with shadows and appeared to be the eyes of an ancient animal. The stallion tossed his head one more time, before slowing his pace and lifting his velvet ears from the back of his skull. He stood, whickering before her, the night breeze lifting his tail like a nimbus cloud. Instinctively, Steph drew another step backward, and the stallion followed with another firm step forward.

'If I died right now...' thought Steph, ' Not even unicorns could have this power over a human.' At this, Steph paused, and took one step forward and the stallion tensed his leg muscles and snorted, as though he may charge, but instead took another tentative step forward. They exhaled in unison and Steph slowly walked toward the beast.

As she was about to extend her hand, the stallion pricked it's ears and whinnied, a thunderous cry from deep within its barrelled chest. He reared and charged at Steph, who could only let out a short shriek before a broad hand curled around her mouth and a second pulled her down by her waist.

* * * * *

The crest on Max's cap was flashing brightly as he was awakened by his sister's cry from across the valley. "STEPH!" he screamed, kicking off his blanket and looking immediately for her. His gaze darted from her empty, dissheveled bed to the open mouth of the alcove, where Norman's figure was not present. "Normie?!" Where are you guys? What the heck is going on here?" He dived over to Virgil's roost and shook the fowl, who lifted his head from behind his arm and crowed.

"Calm yourself, Mighty One! What is the meaning of this? ...Norman? ....MIGHTY ONE!"

Max twisted around to face the valley and yelled out to his sister and Norman. His cry ricocheted against the mountain peaks and was returned only by the sounds of distant hoofbeats and whinnies. Max siezed Virgil by the hand (wing?) and slid down the embankment of the alcove, into the valley. Virgil tried desperately to keep pace, but fell back.

"You must find her, Mighty One! Hurry!" he wheezed, still running as fast as his fowl legs could take him.

"Yeah Virge, way to state the obvious yet again!" yelled Max over his shoulder, his azure eyes scanning the horizon for Steph's beacon. "Steph! Norman! Can you hear me? Geez guys, why'd you have to go and make this trip harder than it already was?!"

* * * * *

Steph wrested her face from her attacker's palm and immediately recognized the leathery scent.

"Norm-"

"Stay back, Mighty One!" the barbarian ordered, pushing her behind his hulking form as he drew his sword. The stallion circled wide and reared, roaring fiercely at Norman and readying itself to charge once more. Norman felt the heat of the moment coursing through his veins, the surge of energy and passion right before a battle. He gripped the hilt until his knuckles turned white and licked his lips, his old sneer returning to his face. "Bring it, Sea Biscuit."

The first arrow sailed from the darkness, inches from the stallion's neck and hit Norman in the left shoulder. The second arrow just missed Steph's stomach and ripped a hole through the side of her shirt. The barbarian roared and looked in the direction that the first arrow came from; the stallion had veered from its path and was thundering back towards the herd, which was already fleeing the area.

"Norman!!!" cried Steph, covering her mouth with her hands. Norman snapped the shaft of the arrow in half so it wouldn't be so cumbersome and hastily picked Steph up by the waist with his good arm. He raised his great sword and roared.

"Get outta the shadows and fight, cowards!" growled Norman, embarrassed and enraged at the sneak attack.

Another arrow whizzed past his ear from the darkness, and a fourth embedded itself into the barbarian's forearm, which held Steph against his body. "Shit, they surrounded us!" muttered Norman, hastily sheathing his sword and dashing back towards camp.

The valley flew past Steph in a blur, but she could just make out another arrow sailing at them from the right. Before she could react, the projectile sank deep into Norman's muscular thigh, and with a grunt of pain he fell against the earth. Steph spilled from his grip and rolled a few times, only hearing Norman's yells as two more arrows secured his hands to the earth.

Three Mongoloid men on brown horses emerged from the shadows and gathered before Norman's form. They drew their bows and aimed at Norman's exposed neck.

"STOP IT!!" Steph hoarsely cried, stumbling to the three riders. The smaller rider, with a movement Steph could hardly detect, aimed his bow at her throat. His eyes, the only part of his face not concealed by fur and felt wrappings, darted down to the light which was radiating from her collarbone. Her ring flashed wildly as it freed itself from underneath her T-shirt. The young warrior's eyes widened, motioned to his fellow riders and shouted something in a foreign tongue. The riders circled Steph, who was barely able to stand with exhaustion, and exchanged more words in low voices.

Steph only felt the pain for an instant as she was struck and fell heavily to the damp earth.