He takes a big gulp of coffee. “There are lots of myths and superstitions about horses,” he says and leans back in his chair.
Declan slumps. “Dad, I have to take Regina home soon.”
“What kind of superstitions?” I cut him off.
Mr. Kendrick scoots forward and plants his elbows on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. “All the horse cultures admired the animal’s strength, valued its contributions to warfare and commerce, but the Celts more so than any other people. Celtic horses of legend could move over land or water. The fierce water horses, the Kelpies, could lure men to their death in the sea. Some horses were magic, able to traverse both the world of the living and the dead. Others could change form from horse to human and back again. The ancients of that island worshipped the horse. They were gods.”
“The horse gods.” The words leave my lips before I know it.
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