Journey to Iceland

Chapter Two

        Arabella was in a little bit of a tight spot. Her smaller problem was that she might have to cross the road. An exit veered away from the highway right in front of, busy and loud. Her bigger problem, however, was that she had no idea if her family had taken the exit or stayed on the highway.
        With a sigh Arabella thought, Well, it's a fifty-fifty. Might as well just pick one. She raised her head and studied the two roads. Highway or exit? The exit looked harder to follow; it led into a maze of buildings. So . . . The highway?
        She stepped closer to the edge of the exit, looking for a place to cross. She tensed as a car rushed past, preparing to run. But another one sped up behind it. Arabella flinched away as stinking, hot air shot into her face, causing her to miss the gap. The next car came slower--and it was slowing. It was stopping! Arabella could see a human raising the strange rectangular thing her owners used to point at her.
        She didn't wait around. The car could start at any moment. Arabella sprang onto the hot asphalt and cantered across. Luckily she wore shoes, so the road didn't burn the soft frog of her foot.
        On the other side, Arabella stopped several strides away and looked back. The cars were starting up again. And--She could see the ANIMAL CONTROL van, speeding along the road!
        Darn, Arabella thought. She whirled and broke into a swift canter, angling away from the highway again. Would she never be free of those annoying men?

        "Look," Chase said. "This is horsetail."
        Fjörður studied the plant. It had a green stem, with shoots branching off all around. He was pretty sure he could remember it; it was rather distinctive.
        "If you eat it," Chase warned, "you'll feel weak, and eventually fall over. It's not as bad as some of the other plants I've shown you, but still not good at all. Don't eat it."
        "I won't," Fjörður promised. Having Chase with him was already proving to be useful. Fjörður didn't know many of the bad, poisonous, or good plants here in America. But when they got to Iceland, that was when he'd get to show the mustang stallion that he didn't know everything.
        Chase led the way onward. Fjörður was a little annoyed; after all, he'd been to Iceland before, and Chase had never left Nevada until five days ago!
        The stallion stopped suddenly. He pointed his muzzle to some thin plants with tiny yellow flowers gathered into a big lump. "There's sorghum. It causes breathing problems and death. Oh, look at that one . . ."
        Fjörður ignored the mustang as he trotted over to yet another plant. Instead he followed his nose. There was a strange tang in the air, sharp and acrid. It smelled like his old owner's car, but more so. Not at all like the wonderfully clean scent of Iceland.
        The scent led him to the edge of the trees. Fjörður stepped out and gasped.
        A long stretch of gray was spread in front of him, extending into the distance to both the left and the right. Bright, gaudily colored cars glinted in the sun as they sped along. The ones closer to Fjörður headed right, while the farther ones shot away to the left.
        Chase's scent met Fjörður's nose, and he turned. Something was wrong. His eyes were wild, and he shifted nervously. He's scared of this massive road! Fjörður realized.
        "What is that?" Chase whispered. "And those . . . things?"
        "Those are cars. And that's a road," Fjörður said importantly. He liked knowing something the large stallion didn't. But truthfulness forced him to admit, "I've never seen such a large one though."
        Chase raised his head suddenly. "Hey! Look over there!"
        Fjörður followed his gaze across eight lanes of cars. At the other side was a beautiful chocolate-and-pearl-colored horse. He was pretty sure it was a mare, though her scent was lost in the stink of the road.
        She lifted her eyes to meet Fjörður's, then Chase's. Then, to Fjörður's horror, she stepped to the edge of the road and placed her front hooves on it. Her head was high, imperious.
        The two males watched in awe as the cars going to the left halted before the mare. The paint picked up her hooves and trotted swiftly across. The cars started again, while the vehicles roaring to the right slowed and stopped. The mare cantered across to join Fjörður and Chase.
        "How did you do that?" Fjörður asked, stunned.
        The mare shrugged, calm. "It's easy, really. The humans don't want to hit me, because I'd damage their cars and because they'd get into trouble. Tell me," she continued, looking more eager, "have either of you heard of a place called Iceland?"
        Fjörður's ears shot up. Before he could say anything, Chase said, "We're going there ourselves!"
        "I'm an Icelandic Horse," Fjörður added. He wasn't going to let the mare think Chase was in charge. "I was heading there, and then Chase joined me." He waited for the mare, but she seemed flabbergasted.

        Arabella couldn't believe her luck. It had been a small chance that the two males across the road knew about Iceland, but here they were, telling her that they were travelling to the country themselves!
        The pony seemed to be waiting for an answer. Arabella struggled to colllect her wits--SAY something, you fool!--but the Icelandic Horse rescued her. "I'm Fjörður, by the way."
        "And I'm Chase," the bay stallion said.
        "Oh! I'm Arabella," she said, thankful to have something to say.
        "That's a pretty name," Chase said.
        "Thank you," Arabella said. The black pony shot Chase an annoyed look. She wasn't sure why. Did Fjörður want to impress her? But he was a gelding; he couldn't have foals anyway.
        But perhaps Fjörður just wanted her to think he was in charge. "Would you like to come with us?" he offered.
        Arabella dipped her head to him. "I would be honored." Now Chase was the one giving Fjörður an irritated look. Oh, dear, Arabella thought, I hope I won't cause them to fight.
        Chase turned to her, all traces of his annoyance gone. "Why do you want to go to Iceland?"
        "My owners moved there," Arabella replied. "They left me with a friend, but I wanted to go to my owners." She tilted her head at them. "What about you?"
        "MY owner moved FROM Iceland," Fjörður said. "I prefer my country over my owner, honestly."
        "And I want to see the world," Chase said. "Before, I'd only ever seen Nevada. When Fjörður said he was going to Iceland, I joined him because Iceland is a new country."
        "You've seen Idaho now," Arabella told him. "And we're pretty close to Wyoming."
        Chase nodded. "So far it's pretty much like Nevada, though."
        "You'll see more variation as we travel east," Arabella said. "I used to live in New York State when I was a foal. It's really different." She noticed that Fjörður looked . . . jealous. Was he mad that she seemed to be paying more attention to Chase? She turned to the black pony. "What about you, Fjörður? What places have you been?"
        Fjörður looked pleased. "Well, Iceland, of course. And Idaho. And . . . well, that's about it."
        Something skidded, behind Arabella. She turned to see a large black vehicle pulling up. It was the ANIMAL CONTROL van. "Quick, run!" she whinnied. Chase backed away, then whirled and shoved Fjörður with his shoulder. The Icelandic Horse stumbled, but quickly recovered and cantered after Chase. Arabella hurried to catch up, glancing back at the van.
        The men were getting out. One of them shouted a curse after them.
        "Look out, Arabella!" Fjörður shouted.
        Arabella blinked and started to look around; then she slammed into a tree. Blackness descended.

        Chase skidded to a stop and turned back to Arabella. Fjörður was closer and reached her first. He raised his head anxiously. "It looks bad," the black pony said. Chase joined him and peered at Arabella. Half her face was slick with blood.
        "Those men!" Fjörður said suddenly, looking over Chase's shoulder.
        They were approaching across the foliage. Chase snorted angrily at them. They had caused Arabella to run into the tree. "Take care of Arabella," he told Fjörður. "I'll deal with those guys."
        "Be careful," Fjörður said.
        Chase nodded, then turned and pranced toward the men in black, neck arched to make him look scarier and bigger. "Don't come a step closer," he warned.
        The men carefully stepped forward. One of them raised a lasso.
        Behind Chase, Fjörður said, "Really. A lasso."
        The person with the rope raised it, about to start whirling it. Chase reared suddenly, then landed with a hop forward. He pranced toward them, snorting and stomping. The men backed off, but the one with the lasso began to spin it.
        Chase had to stop that rope. He reared again, kicking out with his forelegs as way of warning. Then he landed and charged the men, ears flat against his head and teeth gnashing.
        The two let out screams of fear and sprang to either side as Chase hurtled toward them. Chase stopped, slidding almost on his rear, then spun around to the man with the rope. He snaked his head forward and snatched the rope in his teeth, then reared up, flailing his fore hooves, the rope still in his teeth. The man let go of the lasso and sprang away, shouting something to his companion.
        Chase landed and spun on his forelegs, striking out with his hind legs. The rope snapped around like a whip and lashed into the second man. The person let out a shriek of pain and stumbled.
        The other man had made a break for the van, but he turned at his coworker cried out. But the injured man scrambled toward him, and together they sheltered in the van but did not drive off.
        Dropping the rope, Chase pinned his ears at the two men. "Come no closer, if you value your lives!" he whinnied.
        "Chase!" Fjörður sounded worried. "Hurry!"
        That didn't sound good. Chase trotted to Fjörður's side and peered down at Arabella. Fjörður had wiped away most of the blood, and Chase could now see that the mare's entire right side of her face had been crushed slightly.
        "She's still alive," Fjörður said. "But we need a vet, and quick."
        "A what?" Chase asked.
        "A human who heals animals."
        Chase flattened his ears. "You mean . . . turn ourselves in?"
        Fjörður nodded. "But not to those." He jerked his head back to the ANIMAL CONTROL van. "To a kind person."
        "How?" Chase asked.
        Fjörður took a deep breath. "I don't know yet."
        Chase considered their position. He glanced to the road. Surely there were many kind humans speeding along in—what was it? Cars?
        “What if I stood in front of a car?” Chase suggested, remembering what Arabella had said about humans not wanting to hit horses. “Then the car would stop, and we could draw the humans out to Arabella.”
        His Icelandic companion looked doubtful. “You’d have to get rid of those guys first.” He was talking about the men in black.
        “Leave it to me.” Before Fjörður could argue, Chase trotted toward the van. He stopped outside the door, then reared and struck the glass lightly with a hoof.
        The men inside let out equal yelps of fear but didn’t drive off. Chase considered, then turned his rump to the van and raised a hind hoof threateningly, staring over his shoulder at them with ears flat against his head.
        How stupid are these people? Chase thought in frustration when they still didn’t move. He bucked.
        Glass splintered and metal crunched as Chase’s hooves struck home. He landed and spun around to rear and strike with his forelegs, but it was unneeded. The men moved off.
        But the van stopped farther down the road. Chase growled, then trotted after them. He stopped outside the window, then reared as high as possible, smashing a front of through the glass and roaring.

        The sound that came out of Chase’s throat startled Fjörður. He had no idea any horse could roar like that. But it did the trick. The van couldn’t get away from Chase fast enough.
        “Good job!” Fjörður called to the bay. Chase turned and nodded, then stepped onto the asphalt of the road.
        A car swerved slightly to avoid him. Fjörður watched, hardly daring to breathe, as the stallion stepped fully into the lane. He had his sights set on a small white car. The car slowed and moved into the next lane over, but Chase moved farther into the road to intercept it.
        Again the car swerved, back into the first lane. Chase jumping in front of it. It was getting dangerously close.
        Don’t be stupid, Chase! Fjörður silently begged. Bail before you die!
        But Chase stood calm and unmoving. The car slowed again, then pulled over to the curb and stopped.
        Fjörður leapt up and tölted over to Chase and the car. “Let me do this next part,” he told the bay stallion. “Humans can’t resist a pony.”
        Chase nodded and left to stay by Arabella.
        Tilting his head slightly to one side, Fjörður nudged the passenger side door. He let out a soft whinny and tried to look adorable. The person inside—a female, on this side—looked out at him. Fjörður reached down and nibbled suggestively on the door handle. The woman’s hand moved toward the inside handle, and Fjörður stepped back to let her open it. The man clambered out on the other side and joined his wife.
        Perfect, Fjörður thought. He nudged the man forwards, then tölted toward Arabella and Chase. The humans followed carefully. They neared the other two horses.
        Chase’s ears were flat against his head. “Back off,” Fjörður hissed to the mustang. “And straighten those ears! You’ll scare the humans.” The stallion stepped uncertainly away from Arabella.
        The man let out a surprised shout and dashed forward. His wife called after him and started running too. Fjörður followed.
        Reaching Arabella, the man crouched beside her and touched her under the jawbone, feeling for a pulse. Behind him, the woman let out a gasp and pulled out the weird rectangular thing Fjörður’s owner used to call other humans. She tapped on it for a moment, then raised it to her ear.
        Fjörður joined Chase. “Okay,” he said. “Now we let the humans take over.”