Fate & Fortune: Stallion Ridge #6 Read online

  Fate & Fortune

  Stallion Ridge #6

  Maz Maddox

  Edited by

  Raven Max

  Contents

  Preface

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  About the Author

  Also by Maz Maddox

  To my best friend and cover artist. We’ve been writing stories together for over twenty years. Thank you for supporting me, helping me grow as an author, and for giving my books breathtaking covers.

  Walking through dreams has been something we’ve done together since we were kids.

  And we’ve only just begun.

  Anakai.

  Preface

  The Native cultures within the Stallion Ridge universe are completely fictional. They are not meant to represent any particular real Native American or Indigenous People’s culture.

  I pulled inspiration from several tribes throughout north and south America while crafting this story, but did my very best to not mirror any of them too heavily. I have nothing but respect for the Native American and Indigenous Peoples, and need to stress that this story is meant for entertainment only.

  Sky is not a Native American. He’s a fictional character set in a western world with a tribal culture much like the Indigenous People of north and south America. But he is not Native American. His label of “Native” means native to the fictional continent Stallion Ridge is set in.

  The topics of shapeshifting, natural remedies, spiritual connection to the natural world, omens, rituals, and other such subjects within Sky’s story are fictional. I am not Native American, nor do I have any type of authority to speak on any Native American culture.

  TL;DR: please for the love of the gods, don’t use this fake world to take any of these things as real Native American or Indigenous People representation.

  Prologue

  He always loved watching her shuffle her deck.

  There was a majesty to it, like the cards were bound to her fingertips. They’d whisper as she moved them, lacing them together in a lattice of worn paper before pushing them into place. For such simple things, Victor knew the magic they held. His mother could answer the secrets of the void with those little strips of painted paper.

  The candlelight danced over her hands. Shadows played like a puppet show across the walls of their caravan, hiding behind the curtains and charms hanging by closed windows. A smirk played on her lips as she finished shuffling, her fingers drumming over the sides as his anticipation grew.

  “Did you wash up before bed?” she asked, holding the cards hostage.

  “Yes,” he whined, showing her his clean fingernails.

  “Behind your ears?”

  Victor pulled his ears forward and turned his head, her soft chuckle fluttering as he did. She gave a long hum and narrowed her eyes.

  “What about your reading? How far did you get today?”

  “I finished it! Momma!” Victor hugged his pillow to his chest. “Please!”

  “Patience, my little prince. I’m your mother before I’m a seer.” She reached over and squeezed his nose with her knuckles, and he grinned at the touch. Victor pushed his chin into the pillow he held as she began flipping the cards down to read. He knew the arcana, knew the pictures, numbers, and letters by heart. They had been the first things he had learned, along with how they were used to guide, anchor, and advise.

  “Past,” she said softly, touching the three cards she placed on the table. “What do you see?”

  Across the small table with the deep blue cloth, the three cards of Victor’s past were displayed. The first card was a wagon being pulled by a horse. The wagon was so full with goods that it was spilling over the side. The second card was a large silver cat with wings, her tail and claws keeping her tiny kittens close from harm. The last one was a table filled with food, surrounded by the smiling faces of a large, happy family.

  “The Wagon, the Cat, and the Harvest,” Victor explained.

  “And what do you think those mean?” Her brown eyes twinkled as she smiled, proud of him even though he hadn’t answered yet.

  “The wagon is our home. We travel and move with our family, which is the harvest. We’re a big family who loves each other. And that’s you.” Victor tapped the Cat. “Because you keep me safe.”

  “Very good, my prince. You read those well.” She touched his nose gently in approval before scooping up the cards and reshuffling, drawing out three new cards. “Present. What do you see?”

  The three new cards caused Victor to feel uneasy, since there weren’t as many smiling faces or full wagons this time. The first card confused him even though he’d seen it a thousand times before. A night sky was displayed with a moon half hidden behind the clouds, but it had come out of the deck upside down. It somehow seemed scary. The second was a tree laying on its side, the roots a tangle of veins rearing up from the ground. It made him feel lost. The last one had a collection of white wings in various positions, all surrounding a beam of light that painted the ground below.

  Victor chewed his lip as he studied them. “The Night, Fallen Tree, and the Seraphim.”

  “What do they mean? How do they make you feel?”

  “Nervous,” Victor whispered, unsure if it was the right answer. “Like something bad is going to happen.”

  “Why do you think that?” Her brows creased as she watched him. Victor shrugged, feeling helpless. His mother hummed as she studied the cards and tapped the first one. “The Night is intuition, which is very important. You have a very good sense of things, my prince, but I think you might be feeling it backwards.” She turned her attention to the next card.

  “The Fallen Tree, now that one can seem very scary. The sudden shift in something constant. We've been at this camp a very long time, almost a year. I think you’re nervous because we’re finally leaving again. I know you made friends with the local children in the village nearby.”

  His stomach soured at the thought of leaving his new friends behind, even though he knew they never stayed anywhere long. He did like them an awful lot.

  “And the Seraphim, this is a guide,” she continued. “Someone to help you navigate through troubled times.” She winked as Victor looked up at her. “Someone who will always be with you no matter what.”

  He smiled, feeling less scared about the cards after she explained them. She was the best at reading her deck, the best at understanding the scary things in the shadows and showing Victor he had nothing to be afraid of. It helped to know she’d always be there for him, the protective cat keeping him safe and the light in the dark.

  The cards were gathered and shuffled, three new ones to replace the last. “And finally, your future. What do you see?”

  The first card showed a figure that was unmistakable, a proud, strong Centaur warrior holding a sword. He loved that card and often pretended to be a Centaur knight when he played with his friends. The next was two roses twisted together.

  The last one made him shiver like someone blew icy wind down his back.

  A white, smiling skull stared forward, empty eye sockets unblinking and void of life. On top of its head, a large black raven stood with its wings
spread wide.

  “The Centaur, the Lovers, and Death,” Victor said around swallowing the lump in his throat. “Is...is this saying I’m going to die?”

  “Death doesn’t always mean that, my love.” She reached out and smoothed his hair back with her fingers. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s go through it together, starting with the first one. You love this one. What do you think the Centaur means?”

  “It means strength and honor,” he said immediately. “Someone brave and who always does what’s right.”

  “That’s a good sign, don’t you think? It could mean you grow up to be a man of honor. It could mean you meet someone who embodies that, and they’ll play a key role in your life. Maybe it’s related to this one here, The Lovers.” She laughed as Victor scrunched his nose.

  “I don’t like that one.”

  “Maybe not right now, but you will. You’ll find someone who will tangle your heart and make it bloom.” She smiled, thankfully moving on so Victor didn’t have to hear more gross love talk.

  “Now, Death is a tricky card,” she explained gently. “It doesn’t always mean the end of your life. Sometimes it’s the end of something important, like letting something you previously cared about go. It could even mean that you witness a death or take part in it. Maybe you meet someone who is a former soldier, who has seen a lot of death. This card is tied to everyone, my prince, because it is part of life. Eventually you will face it in some form.”

  “It’s scary.” He buried his face further down into the pillow. “I don’t want to have that one.”

  “It’s not up to me.” She folded the cards back into the deck. “We can’t control the cards. We can only control how to read them. Right?” Her fingers smoothed his hair back so she could kiss his forehead. “Do you want to pick your card to help you dream tonight?”

  Victor usually loved pulling the card for his dreams, but after seeing Death, he wasn’t so sure. Most of the time, the card he pulled would help him dream, always summoning something interesting to run towards while he slept. But what if he pulled Death again, and he had a nightmare?

  But if he didn’t pull anything, then he might not have any dream at all.

  He swallowed and bit his lip, taking the card on top of the deck. The happy, dancing Satyr with flowers around his horns made him sigh with relief.

  “The Fool,” Victor said happily. Thank the fates. The Fool was always good dreams.

  His mother chuckled and placed the card beside his bed. “Get some rest, Victor. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Victor smiled and cuddled down into his blankets, ready for sleep and wonderful dreams.

  While his dreams that night would be some of the best, they wouldn’t be any he’d remember.

  The cards had done their best to warn them of their fate, but even the best guides could miss the warning signs.

  Chapter One

  Sky could see far into the beautiful eternity of the landscape.

  Each morning, he greeted the sun as it warmed the sky with its light, golden rays spilling over the wilderness from the horizon. The air smelled sweet and light; the seasons were beginning to shift. High above the earth, Sky tilted his face towards the breeze and leaned into the gust of wind that plucked at his feathers. His wings stretched out to catch more of the wind’s embrace.

  The cold stone of the plateau under his talons made him feel rooted and solid, and the rocks deep within its core were grumbling about the loud train filled with organics heading their way. It made Sky smile to listen to them complain. They had become ancient friends after so many mornings together.

  You had night visions again. The rocks didn’t dream, so they didn’t fully understand what his nightmares meant. They did hear him crying out in his sleep, and they let him know as much.

  Sky opened his eyes and took a slow breath.

  Yes, he told them with his thoughts. Stronger now.

  Is it still the fight?

  Much more than a fight, but it was pointless to explain it. The bloodshed was never-ending. Each death took a piece of him.

  Yes, he answered them simply, as it was the best way to answer million-year-old, judgmental rocks. Still the fight.

  Organics are so strange.

  Sky didn’t argue the fact and pushed off the rocky edge of the plateau to leave the rocks to their grumbling. His wings stretched as the wind lifted him high, his hair whipping back behind him as he flew. The wind was almost cold the higher he went, biting his human skin and chilling his black feathers. He loved the sting of the sky, the dew of the low mist that sometimes rolled over the plains. He was forever grateful that the wind let him borrow its strength for him to feel so free.

  While he soared, he focused his attention on scanning the landscape for any signs of trouble. The once-small town he had guarded from threat for years was growing fast. Each day, new people moved in and pushed the boundaries of Stallion Ridge further out. New buildings and homes seemed to sprout overnight, and the endless eternity of the wild grew borders.

  The good-natured people who dwelled within brick and mortar lives knew little of the nature they encroached upon. While the rocks grumbled and complained of the noise, birds sang of their trees being taken. Sky watched the territories of non-shifter wolves and coyotes having to adjust around humans and shifters alike. Most paid their respects to the animals that lived there prior.

  Others simply killed them.

  But it wasn’t Sky’s place or within his ability to keep nature away from human and shifter kind. He’d learned long ago, at a young age, the way of people. They didn’t change. They didn’t compromise.

  The best Sky could do now was to push back the wild and threats from the town he had grown to love. The only souls that had ever viewed him as a person. A man.

  A friend.

  The lonely, tribeless Skinchanger of Stallion Ridge borrowed the wind to fly on black wings.

  Across the vast plains, dust was being kicked up from running hooves. Just as Sky needed to fly, his friend Cal needed to run. Centaurs were creatures of the earth, born to chase the wind and thunder across the ground. Sky dipped his wings and swooped down to soar above him. The shadow of his wings caused Cal’s shadow to take on the appearance of a Pegasus.

  Cal’s laugh was warm as he continued to run, needing to push himself to gallop faster, strain his muscles and burn the energy pent up from hours behind a desk. His long hair was loose, whipping around freely in the gale of wind his speed created. When Cal was running free, he was powerful and beautiful. Sky loved seeing his friend like this.

  Eventually, Cal slowed into a canter, his mighty chest heaving and the smile wide on his face.

  “Beautiful morning,” he said up to Sky, watching as Sky landed beside him and walked with him.

  “It is. Jesse didn’t want to join you today?”

  “Sleeping in, the lazy dog.” Cal raked his hair back with his fingers and inhaled a deep, satisfied breath. “He doesn’t get many mornings to rest, so I didn’t want to bother him.”

  “They’ve been very busy.” Sky watched a flock of birds fly by overhead as he walked with Cal. Was migration starting already?

  “How are you sleeping?” Cal’s question took him by surprise. He smiled as Sky blinked up at him. “You seem tired lately.”

  “Uneasy,” Sky admitted. “But that’s normal this time of year. The birds are excited about leaving, and the rocks are complaining about the pressure change the seasons cause for them.”

  Cal snickered. “Aren’t they always complaining?”

  “It changes slowly.” Sky smirked. “They like to stick to one thing for a while.”

  “I don’t see how you have the patience for that.”

  Sky inclined his head in thought. “I like that they’re consistent. It makes them easy to talk to.”

  “You don’t get sick of talking about the same things?” Cal eyed him. “I know you’re a very relaxed man, but that’s gotta be taxing.”

  “They’re like
the older members of your family. They don’t have the best grip of time because they’ve been around so long, and they forget they’ve told you stories you’ve heard a million times. But they’re wise, and they’ll listen if you really have something to say.”

  “That sounds like what Mack is going to be like when he’s old,” Cal joked.

  “I think he’s like that now,” Sky tossed back, smiling as Cal laughed. “He’s told me the story of the time you two capsized a boat during the war at least twenty times.”

  “He loves that damn story.” Cal snorted. “Just because he likes painting an image of a Centaur falling off a boat. I swear he’s out to get me sometimes.”

  “Mack loves you more than anyone on this planet next to Jesse. He likes the story because you always laugh.”

  Cal smiled. “Yeah, I guess so. Still, it’s gotta be lonely.” Cal’s brow creased as he glanced down at his friend. “You know you’re welcome to come by for supper any time, Sky. I always feel bad that you’re out here alone.”

  “I’m fine out here, Cal. But thank you.”

  Cal’s wide hand was warm and friendly on Sky’s wing. “If you say so.” He gave Sky a smirk and lifted his chin. “Race me to the next plateau?”

  Sky considered it. “I’ll give you a couple minutes’ head start to keep it fair.”

  Cal barked a laugh and pushed his wing to try and knock Sky off balance as he kicked up into a gallop. Sky was laughing as he spread his wings and caught the air again.