Mystic and Blaze
Summer special 2-in-1 edition of the first two books in the ‘Pony Club Secrets’ series.‘Mystic and the Midnight Ride’:Issie LOVES horses – she’s a member of the Chevalier Point Pony Club, where she rides Mystic her pony and hangs out with her best friends.After a tragic accident, Issie is asked to care for an abandoned pony, Blaze, and her riding skills are put to the test. Can she tame the spirited new horse? And is Blaze somehow in danger?‘Blaze and the Dark Rider’:Issie and her friends have been picked to represent the pony club at the Interclub Gold Shield – the biggest competition of the year. It’s time to get training!But when equipment is sabotaged and one of the riders is injured, Issie and friends are determined to find out who’s to blame. With a little help from Issie’s old pony Mystic, maybe they can solve the mystery…This is a fast-paced, action-packed pony series for all girls aged 8-12.
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Pony Club Secrets
Mystic and Blaze
Stacy Greegg
Table of Contents
For Venetia
Please, please let it be sunny tomorrow, Issie had prayed as she went to bed the night before the gymkhana. But when her alarm clock woke her at quarter to six the next morning and she ran to the window there were grey clouds covering the sky. Still, there was no sign of rain and when she listened for a cancellation on the radio nothing was mentioned, so she headed out into the pre-dawn light to prepare Mystic for his big day.
Stella and Kate were already down at the River Paddock. Stella was busily brushing out Cocoâs tail, while Kate was sectioning out Tobyâs neatly pulled mane so that she could start plaiting it into tiny knots along the top of his neck.
âYouâd better hurry.â Stella smiled. âTom said heâd be here by seven to help us load them into the truck and take them to the show grounds.â
Grabbing Mysticâs halter out of the tack room, Issie set off across the paddock. The grass was wet with dew and her riding boots were soaked by the time she reached the spot where Mystic was grazing. The pretty dapple-grey was chewing up great chunks of fresh spring growth and barely bothered to raise his head to acknowledge her.
âHere, Mystic,â Issie called hopefully, hiding the halter behind her back with one hand and holding her other hand out towards the pony.
She had forgotten to bring a treat to tempt him with, but perhaps she could bluff the gelding into believing she had a piece of carrot or apple in her empty fist.
No such luck. Mystic had spotted the halter. He gave a deep snort of surprise, shaking his mane and trotting off to the other side of the paddock.
âOh, Mystic, no! Not today!â Issie cried in despair.
Of course these things always happened at the worst possible moment. Like today. Issie was nervous enough about riding at her first gymkhana. Now she was running late â the others were nearly ready to plait up their horses and she hadnât even started grooming. Even at this distance Issie could see that Mystic had got himself into a right state from rolling in the long paddock grass. There were chunks of dirt matted into his silvery mane and his hocks were stained bright green.
âCome on, Mystic,â Issie begged. She bent down, picked a handful of grass and offered it hopefully to the little grey pony. Mystic swivelled his ears towards Issie. He took one step forward, then another. Even though he was knee-deep in grass, the small bunch in Issieâs hand was too good to resist. Issie walked quietly up to his side and slid the halter rope around his neck. Then she eased the halter over Mysticâs nose and quickly buckled it up behind his ears. Success!
âWhoâs a naughty pony then?â Stella giggled as Issie led Mystic up to the fence and tethered him next to her Coco.
âItâs not just Mystic,â Kate insisted. âI spent ages catching Toby this morning. Itâs this spring grass. Itâs making them all act like crazy colts!â
âDo you hear that, Mystic? I bet you wish you were a colt again, eh boy?â Issie laughed.
Mystic wasnât a young horse. Issie had known that when she bought him. Back then she been told that the grey gelding was eighteen. But it was hard to tell the age of a horse. Her pony-club instructor Tom Avery reckoned that the little grey might actually be as old as twenty-five which was positively ancient in horse years.
The ponyâs dapples had faded over the years from the dark steel of a young colt to a soft dove grey. Mysticâs back was slightly swayed too, from years of riding. Still, he was a beautiful pony, only fourteen hands high but he held himself so proudly he seemed bigger. His eyes were dark smudges of coal in his pale face, and they had the calm depth of a horse that has lived a little. Mystic certainly knew his way around a showjumping or cross-country course.
Issie sighed as she examined her horseâs hindquarters. âOh, Mystic, why arenât you a nice dark colour like Toby and Coco? Keeping you clean is twice as much work.â
âDonât be so sure,â Stella said. âYou canât see the grass stains on Coco, but check this out.â She gave the chubby little brown mare a friendly slap on the rump and a circle of white dust appeared where her hand had been. âSee? Iâve been grooming for hours now and I canât get rid of it.â
Coco turned around to see what Stella was up to and gave her a sniff, nuzzling the girl with her velvet-soft nose. âNo, Coco. I donât have any carrots,â Stella giggled, âbut if you win a ribbon today I promise you can have as many carrots as you want.â Coco nickered happily. It was a deal.
