They stood for a while by a covered arena (there were lots of arenas) where people were doing some last-minute training or warming up or whatever. English horses with big shoes trotted rapidly around, lapping the western horses whose oh-so-slow gaits seemed almost Zen-like. Women riders outnumbered men, but not by a huge margin except in the ten-to-eighteen-year-old crowd, which seemed to be mostly girls. One horse was foaming with sweat, and his mincing western gait was stiff and uncomfortable looking. His rider kept pulling back on the bit and spurring at the same time. Charles grunted and walked away from the arena.

“What was she trying to do?” asked Anna.

“I don’t know,” Charles said unhappily. “And I can tell you that poor horse didn’t know, either.”

They stopped for a bunch of young horses crowded in front of yet another arena, clad only in narrow-banded halters designed to show off their exotic heads. They sidled and snorted and looked pretty. A few of them were frightened—Anna could smell it—but most of them were just bouncing around with happy energy, preening when they noticed someone looking at them.

Charles bought Anna an ice cream cone, taking a good-humored lick himself when she offered it to him.

And nowhere did they smell fae.

The buildings where the horses were stabled were set in parallel lines along the outer edge of the show grounds. Some of them were strewn with banners belonging to one stable or another. They found the Sani stables more by luck than because they were looking for them.

A crowd of children were gathered around the horse Michael had ridden in the lead-line class. He was bare of tack except for his halter and stood half-asleep while one of the Sani handlers held him so that the children could pet him.

Kage stood by the horse’s hindquarters, gently directing the kids toward the front of the horse instead of the rear and patiently answering questions. Mackie seemed to be helping, showing the younger children how to pet gently. She was dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked into dark gray stretch pants that were tucked into tall English riding boots.

“Anna, Anna,” caroled Michael, breaking free of the crowd and running up to her. “I won, I won, did you see me?”

She smiled. “I did. Did you have fun?”

“I like riding Nix,” he said, bouncing happily in a way that reminded her of the bunch of young horses they’d just seen. “He is Grandpa’s horse and he likes kids. The kids from my school are here. They saw me win, too. I’m letting them pet my horse.”

“I see that.”

Ms. Newman was mostly too busy admiring Kage to look their way, though she managed one sly look at Charles that stopped as soon as Anna caught her eye. Ms. Edison smiled sharply, an aha smile, but didn’t leave her post at the rear of the herd of children.

Anna didn’t know if it was good or bad that the principal had figured out just who had clued them into the trouble at the day care. None of them, children or teachers, smelled of fae magic, either. She could smell Ms. Edison’s perfume and Ms. Newman’s shampoo, and one of the kids had a cat, but she didn’t smell fae.

Charles walked them around the kids, nodding to Kage as they passed, and into the stable building. Hosteen was drinking from a bottle of water and chatting with Wade. Beside them, sitting hunched over on a straw bale, Chelsea had her eyes closed.

Anna left Charles’s side and sat down beside Chelsea. She finished the last of her ice cream cone, licked her sticky fingers, and tried to radiate calm. She was rewarded by Chelsea’s gradual relaxation, though the other woman didn’t open her eyes.

“Too many people,” Chelsea murmured. “Too many sounds, too many smells.”

“Yeah,” Anna agreed. “It hits all of us like that once in a while. Do you need to go home?”

Chelsea shook her head, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes. “Not until after Mackie’s class. Then a whole bunch of us will go back to the ranch. All the kids and me. We’ll take Nix, too. He’s twenty-eight, ancient of days. One day of excitement is enough for him.”

“How long until Mackie’s class?” Anna asked.

Hosteen said, “About an hour.”

“Then why don’t I wait with you here?”

Chelsea smiled tensely, but it was Hosteen who said in a gentle voice, “I think that would be very useful. Thank you.”

About then Ms. Edison came into the stables to thank Chelsea for letting the four-year-olds pet Michael’s mount. She was smiling, gracious, and brief.

Mackie’s class was a lot smaller than the lead-line class had been. There were three girls, one of them nearer to ten and the other girl about Mackie’s age.

“This is English pleasure,” said Joseph for Anna’s benefit. “The horses have more elevated gaits; that means they pick their feet up higher and are generally more excitable. There aren’t a lot of horses who can be English pleasure horses and be safe enough for someone under ten to ride.”

The riders rounded the ring at a trot, Heylight looking a lot bigger with Mackie riding him. Anna leaned forward and paid attention. The other younger girl looked a little off balance, and her horse, a sweet-faced chestnut, didn’t have the action of the other two horses.

This time, Anna noticed, the family was tenser than they had been for Michael, leaning forward in their seats. The horses walked for half the arena, reversed, and trotted.

Max groaned and Maggie sat up straighter. “Change diagonals, Mackie,” she said under her breath. “Come on, notice what’s going on. Quit paying attention to the crowd and watch what you’re doing.”

Anna leaned toward Charles in silent query.

“When you’re posting you rise and fall with one front leg instead of bouncing with every footfall,” Charles said.

It was like music, and Anna understood music. “Like cut time instead of four-four.”

“Right, it’s easier on the horse and on the rider. But when you are riding in a circle, you want to rise and fall with the outside leg; the inside leg on a circle is already taking more weight. Mackie is on the wrong leg. She’ll have to bounce a beat to change. There she goes. Good girl.”

“She’ll make reserve,” said Joseph. “That’s just fine. Not the first mistake she’s made in the ring, and it won’t be the last.”

“Any class that you end up still on top instead of eating dirt is a good class,” said Max, deadpan, but obviously quoting someone.

“She’s got the hands and the seat,” said Maggie. “Just like her grandfather. She’ll be one of the good ones.”

“If she wants to be,” said Chelsea.

She’d come to the stands with Wade, Anna, and Charles to watch while her husband was in the paddock behind the in-gate to make sure Mackie got into and out of her class okay. She was, Anna noticed, doing a lot better with the crowded arena than she had earlier. The hour in the quiet of their section of barn with Anna radiating calm had given her the respite she’d needed to regain her control.

Max laughed. “No one is capable of making Mackie do anything she doesn’t want to, Mom. You know that.”

The riders lined up in the middle, and the places were announced. Mackie did indeed take reserve, which apparently was second place. The horses trotted one more time all the way around the arena and then out of the gate.

Chelsea stood up as if she had springs. “I’ll go gather the children. Max, can you help your grandparents get home when they are ready?”

“Will do,” he said.

Charles got up, too. “Let’s take a break from the horse show. If there is someone who is fae here at the show grounds, we aren’t having any luck finding them.”

They ended up eating at a Chinese restaurant that was fairly decent—better than anything in Aspen Creek, anyway. It was late for lunch and early for dinner—so there was only one other couple in the place. Charles relaxed and listened in on Anna’s phone call with Special Agent Fisher.

Leslie sounded frustrated and unhappy. “Our expert was in with McDermit for two hours this morning, but he wants another crack at him this afternoon. Sorry.”

“Tell her,” Charles said thoughtfully, “to see if she can figure out if Mr. McDermit was gone for a couple of weeks in November, when the fae all disappeared into the reservations. He shouldn’t be one of the ones who hid out like the wearden in Ms. Jamison’s garden. If she’s checking the background of the other people associated with the day care, she should look at that for them, too.”