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thought.
    Still, the stallion didn’t treat Moon like a challenger. Lowering his silvery head, the Phantom bared his teeth and snaked his neck in the scolding, herding move he’d use on any mare or foal that disobeyed.
    For a second, Moon hesitated. His head turned slightly. His lips moved, as if chewing over the problem of his father’s strength. His tail drooped and he glanced at the mares.
    All at once, wind raced through the canyon. Its scent carried reminders of the days Moon had ruled these mares.
    Inky torrents of mane flew around Moon’s head and neck. He bobbed his head, higher every time, refusing to be scolded. Neck arched, tail flung high, he defied his father by refusing to retreat.
    Moon didn’t know what he was getting into. Even though he stood taller than his sire, the Phantom had the broad chest and thick muscles of a mature stallion.
    â€œThis is all play-acting,” Brynna reassured Sam. “Stallions don’t want to draw blood. Even if he’s a sure winner—like the Phantom—he could be hurt. He knows even a small injury might make him slower. And that would be bad for the herd.”
    â€œYou didn’t see him fight Hammer,” Sam said. “When Hammer didn’t back down, the Phantom was all over him.”
    Sam would never forget the loud and brutal fight.Both stallions had been streaked with blood.
    The Phantom gave Moon time to size him up while Sam and Brynna watched in silence.
    The horses stood still for so long, Sam noticed the shiny rocks around them. They must have worn a skim of ice earlier, but now it had melted off. The smell of wet earth wasn’t flowery like it was in spring. Autumn was ending and winter was nearly here.
    Sam took turns holding her reins with one hand while she tucked the other under the warmth of her jacket.
    Time’s up. With a jerk of his head, the Phantom signaled his son to fight or flee.
    The silver stallion approached like a king. Moon fidgeted, but he held his ground until the Phantom stood in front of him. The horses stood eye-to-eye, then the Phantom moved forward, giving his son’s forehead a shove.
    Moon retreated a step and the Phantom came after him, jostling his head again.
    All at once, Moon reacted like a teenager who’d been pushed too far. With a high-pitched squeal, the black rose up on his hind legs. The silver stallion must have known what would happen, because he reared at exactly the same instant.
    For a moment, they stood like mirrored reflections, one dark and one light.
    The Phantom dodged past the black’s threshing forelegs, ducking to grab his mane. He tugged, pullingthe black off balance, then dodging out of the way.
    Moon fell, but he bolted up at once. Looking anxious, he trotted a circle around his father, but Sam could see he’d skinned his knees.
    â€œHe sparred with Yellowtail and Spike and he always won,” Sam said.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œA bay and a chestnut in his bachelor band. Mrs. Coley named them. We saw them play-fighting once, and Moon was clearly the best. I think he’s confused because the Phantom’s not such an easy opponent.”
    â€œLook at the mares,” Brynna said.
    The Phantom’s herd grazed, unconcerned. When Moon gave a series of short snorts, the mares looked up, but they knew the outcome of the fight. They were indifferent about how the Phantom won.
    All but the blood bay. The mare Moon had tried to steal seemed interested. Searching for a better view, she stepped away from the herd.
    Sudden hoofbeats made Sam look back to the stallions.
    â€œHe’s giving it another try,” Sam said.
    Suddenly, Moon darted toward the Phantom. Ears pinned, head flat, he grabbed for the gray. The Phantom swerved, but the smear of foam on his neck showed how close Moon had come to biting him.
    â€œToo close,” Brynna said. “Now the Phantom’s getting mad.”
    Sam heard Brynna swallow, and there wassomething