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leagues of the Ramtharin Plains were slowly revealed to Gabria in lightening hues of indigo, purple, and lavender. From her high promontory she could look far to the east, where the grasslands of her people rol ed beyond the horizon.

A smile lit Gabria's face. It was no wonder Valorian's people had looked down on those lands and rejoiced. The plains were vast and beautiful and held everything the clanspeople needed to survive.

Whatever they had left behind could not have compared to the grasslands.

Gabria turned away from the edge and studied the big plateau around her. At first glance it seemed strangely empty.

There were no trees or shrubs or large boulders to break up the tableau, only a few scrubby, tough plants and some blotches of lichen on the flat ground. The only thing that caught her interest was a low pile of rocks lying in the center of the plateau.

She was perhaps thirty paces away from the pile when she saw something else. On the ground in front of her were two lines of smooth, round, grayish stones. One line curved away to the right and left in a huge arch; the second line intersected the first and ran directly to the pile of rocks.

Gabria followed the straight line of stones to the rock pile.

She saw immediately that the pile was a cairn, carefully shaped into a circle about two paces across and as high as a horse's knees. Radiating out from the cairn were other equally spaced lines of stones.

Gabria followed a second line out; the curved trail of stones circled the cairn and united each straight line into---Gabria nodded her head---into the shape of a giant wheel. She walked around the entire circumference of the huge design, marveling in the perfect curve of the circle and in the arrow-straight lines of the spokes. It was a remarkable creation.

If this is Valorian's Wheel, Gabria thought, it has to be over five hundred years old. Despite weathering and time, the Wheel was in very good condition.

She shook her head in wonder at the dream behind the Wheel. Lord Valorian was a man known to many civilizations, for tales of his deeds had spread far beyond the limits of the plains. He was a hero-warrior and a chieftain, a man believed to be half-god. He traveled to Sorh in the realm of the dead to fight the gorthlings for Amara's crown; he bred the Hunnuli from his own stallion and taught them to communicate with magic-wielders; he was the first human to tap into the powers of magic, and he led his people out of the miseries of their old land to a new home beyond the mountains. After his death, his twelve sons spread out across their new land and formed the twelve clans of Valorian, preserving their father's heritage and passing on the talent to wield magic.

Gabria smiled and thought Valorian might be pleased to find one of his descendants had come back to see his wheel.

Without warning Nara neighed a cry of welcome . They Come! she trumpeted.

Gabria turned in astonishment. She had never heard Nara sound so joyful. Her eyes fol owed the horse's gaze to the high pass where the light of morning was streaming onto the mountain face. A herd of dark horses gal oped down between the peaks, their manes flying and their tails raised like royal banners. Snow flew from their hooves, and the thunder of their coming rumbled over the plateau.

With the sun reflecting off the rocks and the snow, it was difficult for Gabria to clearly see the horses; then she rocked back in astonishment. She clambered up to the top of the cairn for a better view. As they drew closer, she recognized them immediately, for the horses were huge and black. They were all Hunnuli.

They galloped onto the plateau where Nara pranced to join them, and the entire herd neighed their welcome to the mare and the woman. They flowed into a circle around Gabria, following the curve of the wheel.

She tried to count them, but there were too many and they raced by her in a boisterous, wild run.

Their black coats gleamed in the sunlight, and a blazon of white lightning marked each horse at the shoulder. Her mouth slightly open, Gabria stared at the magnificent mares and stallions. Her heart sang with their delight.

At last the Hunnuli slowed down and stopped. They wheeled to face the woman, their breath billowing in clouds around them. A stallion broke away from the ring, trotted forward, and nodded his head to Gabria.

He was huge. Even on the cairn of stones, the woman's head barely reached his nose. She realized immediately he was the King Stallion. His great strength was molded in the muscles of his neck and legs; his eyes glowed with a deep, abiding wisdom. White hairs of age covered his muzzle, yet his step was powerful. A regal courage showed in his every movement and toss of his head.

We greet you, Sorceress, he told Gabria. The stal ions thoughts to her were proud but kind.

She swept back her cloak and bowed low to the majestic horse.

We have waited a long time for the magic-wielders to return, he continued. The Hunnuli were bred and born to be the companions of humans with the ability to use the powers of magic wisely. We have missed them. You are the first in a long time to return to the arts. For that we are greatly pleased.

Gabria stared at the stal ion, her eyes huge. She had no idea what to say to him. Sensing her confusion, Nara left the circle of Hunnuli and came to stand beside her.

The King Stallion turned his dark eyes to Nara. Serve her well, Gabria heard him tell the mare. She must continue her work if sorcery is to return to the clans.

The mare agreed with a neigh.

Gabria spoke up, "Nara has

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