Free The Island Stallion Races by Walter Farley

disclosing his small, white teeth. “Let’s continue this discussion over some tea,” he suggested. “It’s just what we all need to soothe us down.”
    Steve followed them to the ledge. He put the water on to boil, and then got the tea. “This is Pitch’s tea,” he told himself, his fingers tightening about the can. “It’s imported and costly. He’s going to be sore when he finds so much of it gone.” And then he laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts, considering what he was going through.
    Flick said crossly, “Well, Jay, I suppose it
is
too late to do anything about you and Steve now. I’ll simply have to assume full responsibility for your actions, as I’ve done before.”
    Jay chuckled. “That’s the ticket, Flick. Handle me
yourself
without any help from Julian. You’re perfectly capable of doing the job, and there’s no sense getting Julian mixed up in it.”
    Flick said nothing.
    The water boiled and Steve made the tea extra strong, the way Jay liked it. Flick came up and stood beside him, holding out his cup.
    “Since Jay told you as much as he did it’s only right that you know more about us,” Flick said. “The little information he’s given you can be a very dangerous thing.”
    Steve was not aware if Flick’s words were being spoken aloud or not. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that he heard everything in the softest, most rhythmic cadence and that he understood it completely.
    He poured the tea into cups. “Would you like a biscuit?” He laughed inwardly. Did he imagine for a minute that this was a party, that friends had come to tea? He passed the biscuits around and thought of the one Jay had not finished the night before.
    “Oh, but I did,” Jay said, smiling. “But I’ll have another if you can spare it, Steve. Thank you very much.”
    Steve stared at Jay a long time, thinking,
The blue bird had dived quickly, snapping up the biscuit with one hard thrust of his bill, and then had flown away
.
    Flick ran his fingertips through his stiff brush of hair, and then said, “I believe the best way for us to explain what we are, Steve, is to say that we’re simply tourists.” He turned to Jay. “Don’t you think so?”
    “You’re the scholar,” Jay answered. “Explain it your way, now that you’ve consented to take Steve into our confidence.”
    The coolness of the morning swept in a sudden wind across the ledge. Steve rubbed his bare arms to warm them, but felt no chill, no shivering.… That would come later, after his two visitors had gone.
    Flick said, “Well, we’ll just call ourselves tourists, then. We travel a great deal, Steve, truly great distances as you know them.”
    “You mean as he
doesn’t
know them,” Jay interrupted, laughing.
    The sound of Jay’s laughter startled Steve, for now he knew why it had sounded so familiar to him all along. It was like the raucous call of the blue bird. He turned to Flick and asked, “Where are you from?”
    “Our world is called Alula,” Flick answered. “It’s not too unlike your Earth.”
    “As far as the geological features go,” Jay interrupted again.
    “Of course,” Flick said sharply, “that’s all I meant.”
    Jay smiled. “And it’s cooler. That’s why we prefer a day like this.”
    Steve rubbed his chilled bare arms again but said nothing. He thought of the cold rain the first night Jay and Flick had arrived and wondered whether they had preferred that too.
    “But we don’t have your sunsets,” Flick said. “Never have I seen a more glorious one than on the night of our arrival! Why, the sky had more color than the seas of Mao. Didn’t you think so, Jay?”
    “Let’s not talk about Mao,” Jay answered sullenly. “When I think of what that trip has kept me from seeing here, I could just …” He stopped, and a band of red appeared in his eyes. “Why did you tell me there was so little change on Earth, when you knew of my interest in horses?
Why
, Flick?” Jay had risen from his