Gallop Swiftmane's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Gallop Swiftmane stood at the ivy-arched grove that marked the start of his twelve-furlong circuit. Dawn light cut across the packed earth. He had mapped every stride of it. He had spent every coin. The horse breeder was late, and Gallop already knew this was his last meeting. Hooves arrived before words. The breeder dismounted and set down a gilded willow statue, ivy curling through its golden branches. "Worth more than your project needs," the breeder said. "It's yours. The gold behind it is yours. One condition. Horses race here too. Same circuit. Same days." Gallop studied the statue. He thought of the banked turns his partner had redrawn. Horses couldn't take those turns. Centaurs would slow to match. The circuit would exist — but it would not be the circuit he had mapped. A goblin trader stepped from behind a tree, pockets clanking. "Mervin Bogbutton, consultant," he said. "Take it. Obviously. Gold is gold." Behind him, a small satyr in a tall hat tipped his brim. "Bramblewick Thistlehop. I'd take it too. Then I'd lie about taking it." Gallop ignored them both. He looked at the breeder. "You want your name on it." The breeder smiled. "On the gate. Above yours." Gallop nodded once. "Then no." He pushed the statue back across the dirt with one hoof. "Anyone who wants their name on the circuit more than they want it built isn't a partner. Take your gold home." The breeder mounted and rode off. Gallop stood alone in the grove with no money, no backer, and a route still drawn the way it should be. He turned toward the ridge. His partner would be back in two days. He had three rejections to bring her — and a fourth that mattered more than the others.