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laughed again, less gently. “Worry tires you. I will handle all these things.”
    Heart saw the anger in the boy’s eyes. But he slumped back in his chair and took a slow breath.
    â€œAre you finished patting horses?” Lord Dunraven asked. He walked around the front of the chair.
    Heart heard Anna gasp in the next stall, but LordDunraven hadn’t noticed her at all. He spit and glanced back at his companion. “Have you seen this style? It makes the horse look like a unicorn,”
    Heart froze, terrified.
    The boy’s uncle nodded. “It’s used here, too.”
    Lord Dunraven shook his head in disgust, then turned away. “The young lord should rest before the crowning.”
    â€œI
am
very tired,” the boy said softly.
    Heart felt so sorry for him.
    He looked miserable.
    And his uncle was unkind and a bully.
    Heart knew what she should do. It was dangerous. But it would be wrong
not
to do it.
    â€œMoonsilver!” Heart whispered. “Touch him.”
    Avamir flicked her ears and turned to look at Heart.
    â€œTell Moonsilver to touch him,” Heart breathed.
    The boy looked dazed and ill. His eyes were half closed.
    â€œWe wish to leave now,” Lord Dunraven said. The carriers stood straighter.
    Avamir whickered softly.
    Moonsilver lifted his head high.
    One of the chair carriers began to count.
    â€œOne, two, three …”
    They stepped forward on the count of four.
    In that instant, Moonsilver reached out, his neck arched, lowering his horn.
    Carefully, lightly as a moth wing, he touched the boy lord’s lips.
    Then he stepped backward, hanging his head as the chair moved off. Dunraven was talking again, walking close to the boy lord’s uncle as they passed.
    Heart saw the boy turn sharply and look back at her.
    His eyes were wide.
    His cheeks were flushed with pink.
    Their eyes met for an instant.
    Then the chair turned the corner and started up the next aisle.

CHAPTER NINE
    W ithin ten minutes the barn was noisy again.
    The pages relaxed and began talking, settling in for the night.
    Heart was very glad the boy would be well now.
    It had been the right thing to do.
    But it had been foolish, too, and dangerous.
    Would he realize what had happened?
    If he did, would he tell his uncle and Lord Dunraven?
    Heart paced back and forth while the other pages raked up piles of clean straw for their beds and washed their faces in the water buckets.
    It would be impossible to leave before morning.
    Without the crowds to hide in, the guards would stop her the instant she left the barn.
    Slowly, one by one, the voices in the stalls quieted.
    The horses lay down, and Heart could hear them sleeping, a steady lullaby of hay-sweet breath.
    Mice began to rustle in the grain boxes.
    Then, after a long time, even they quieted and went to sleep.
    Heart sat in a corner of the stall, waiting for morning. She was far too worried to sleep.
    But after most of the night was gone, as the moon was rising, she began to wonder if things would be all right.
    Wouldn’t the boy have told someone by now if he was going to tell?
    It was possible he had no idea what had happened.
    He certainly had a healer trying to help him.
    Probably he’d been given herbs.
    Maybe the royal healers would think the herbs had finally cured him.
    Heart sighed. She was so weary.
    She lay down.

    She closed her eyes and waited for her dreams to come.
    â€œPssst!”
    Heart was instantly awake. “Anna? Is that you?”
    â€œNo,” came the whispered answer.
    There was a shuffling sound as someone climbed over the gate and jumped lightly into the straw bedding.
    Kip growled.
    Avamir switched her tail.
    Moonsilver was standing, dozing. He lifted his head calmly.
    The visitor lit a candle. In the amber light Heart saw a merry-eyed boy whose once pale cheeks were now rosy.
    â€œThey made me go get crowned,” he said. “But after that I looked in my books. I know what