by Alisha Basso
In her world, she and the horse will have disappeared without a trace. Her family would search for a while, but eventually, their story would be added to the family history. Their disappearance too easily accepted because of it. Another vague secret never to be understood. Unless she could get them home. She had to.
For now, she would deal with what was in front of her.
“May I?” Leinos asked. He reached toward Pindar’s shoulder.
Lauren started to dismount.
“No, stay,” Leinos said. “We must get you in. I only wanted to touch him for a moment.”
“Haven’t you ever—?”
“Never.”
Never? She looked at his outstretched hand, pale in contrast to Pindar’s dark coat. Never touched a horse? Plenty of people she knew had never been around horses, but she couldn’t help feeling there was more to it in this case than a lack of interest or time. She nodded.
For the second time that night, Lauren saw hesitation in a man she suspected rarely felt fear or second-guessed his decisions. She couldn’t know that about him, not really, yet she sensed the truth of it. She took his hand, pressed it to Pindar’s shoulder, and held it there, trying to imagine seeing and touching a horse for the first time.
Leinos spread his fingers against Pindar’s damp coat and remained still. Lauren released him and held her breath. The Guardian’s knuckles were cut and bleeding, and he hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. Given his scarred face and disfigured nose, he’d obviously had worse. Pindar turned his big head to sniff the man’s elbow, and Leinos smiled. The horse snorted and shook his head.
“You jumped on like you’ve ridden all your life,” Lauren said.
He’d been staring at the big gray as if he still couldn’t believe it, but turned his copper eyes to her. “Anything to save you, Lady Horsecaller.”
Despite all the rest, her breath hitched in her chest, and she couldn’t stop a smile. It had to be wrong, but it didn’t feel that way.
He walked on. “Come,” he said, and without a backward glance led them toward the river, picking up a long-legged lope that Pindar had to trot to keep up with.
Heavy clouds covered the sky in the direction they traveled and soon obscured the moons as well. By the time they reached the bridge, waves of woozy panic swept through her. Had the bird-man’s claws cut deep after all? Hang on, she told herself. One thing at a time. Surely we’ll stop soon. Probably inside the fortress.
Which loomed before them now like every evil castle in every princess movie ever made.
Leinos trusted the Horsecaller to follow. She was confused and frightened, but smart and holding up well, showing more concern for the others than herself. Still, he wanted her inside the safety of Raver's Keep where he could tend her wounds. Had she been Cirqian, she would already be unconscious from the yekerk's poison, so perhaps she would not be severely affected. But the sooner Vraz returned, the better.
Artepa met them at the stable. The woman smiled jubilantly at the horse and rider, but assessed Leinos' demeanor with an expert eye. “What happened?”
“Yekerk.”
She nodded, bent close, and pitched her voice low. “Who is this woman?”
Artepa had seen many cycles of the seasons and was never one to act surprised or show much emotion, but Leinos could see the excitement in her eyes.
He turned to introduce them just in time to see Lauren slowly swing her right leg over the horse’s back and lower her feet to the ground. There, her legs buckled. He caught her before she fell.
She leaned into him. “Can’t feel my feet,” she said, although she sounded unconcerned and slurred her words.
She started to loop a loose arm over his shoulders, but after it slipped twice, she settled it around his waist.
“You’re tall, you know that?”
He and Artepa exchanged a worried look.
“A yekerk cut her,” he said. “Help me get her inside.”
Lauren groped for Pindar. “No, have to take care of him.”
The yekerk’s poison was having a strange affect, or perhaps it was the result of traveling through the Ravery. Either way he needed Vraz.
“Get the sage. Now.”
Artepa took off at a run.
He shifted one arm under the Horsecaller’s shoulders, the other beneath her knees, and picked her up.
“Weeee,” she squealed. Her head and arms flopped like limp lettuce. One hand came to rest by his ear. “That was fun,” she said. “Can we do it again?”
“What does your horse need?”
“Pindar? He’s not actually my horse. I wish he was. He’s pretty smart.”
“I see. So, we do not need to take care of him?”
“Of course we do. You have a stall?”
Her fingertips brushed his neck. He needed to put her down so he could concentrate. But he would not. He would hold her all night if required. Not that holding her would save her if it were already too late. They should have continued running until they reached the Keep. Foolish to stop, to want to touch the horse when the Horsecaller was injured.
He nabbed Pindar’s rein hoping the huge animal would follow him because he was carrying the Horsecaller, and headed toward the nearest stall. Despite standing next to life-sized statues in Lerom, even sneaking a “ride” on one when he was a child, nothing had prepared him for a living, breathing horse. Pindar exuded more raw energy and intelligence than anything he had ever encountered save the most powerful sages.
Feeling that force beneath his body had been incredible. Now, he could not imagine leaping to the majestic creature’s back without first asking permission, but in that moment, the urge had been instinctual, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Whether that had to do with saving the woman in his arms, or the horse who dutifully followed after the two of them, he did not know.
Everything changed when the woman and the horse burst through the Ravery. Did Cirq have a future? Had she really come straight from the goddess as Sebira said? The old crone was the only one remaining ever to have seen a horse. She might be the only one living still intimate with their deity.
Perhaps they had a future. First, he had to keep her alive. Where was Vraz? Surely he and the others had killed the yekerk with no trouble. He pushed down an unnerving moment of dread, a feeling he had not known since losing his mate and children. After that, he had become adept at feeling nothing.
“Need to take off his saddle and bridle,” Lauren said.
“How do you feel?” Leinos asked.
“You smell nice.”
“Indeed. Tell me what to do.”
She explained, and he found the right buckles, but it was awkward while holding her.
“Can you feel your feet yet?”
“Can’t feel anything, but I feel great. Did I hit my head?”
“I am going to set you down for a moment.”
She hugged his neck. “Must you? Did I mention you smell good enough to eat?”
The next stall had a pile of clean straw in it. All the stalls were always ready. “Indeed.”
“Is that all you can say?”
Leinos hoped the poison had simply gone to her head like too much wine, easily slept off. He propped her against the wall, but she lay down and curled into a ball.
“I’m cold,” she said.
Leinos removed his cloak and laid it over her, then pulled off Pindar’s tack. The horse’s legs bent, and for a moment, Leinos thought he, too, had been hurt, but the big animal rolled around and got right back up, shaking straw from his mane and tail, and looking at him as if he expected something. Leinos returned to Lauren and asked what to do next.
“Is he still all hot and sweaty?”
“I do not think so.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“I do not know.”
She tilted her head to one side and assessed him as Artepa had but a few moments before.
“Just my luck to get snatched to another world and be rescued by so
meone good-looking but clueless.”
“Indeed.”
“Honestly. Can’t you think of some other answer?” She tried to rise but couldn’t. “Help me up. I’ll tell you whether it’s safe to give him water.”
Leinos did as ordered, trying to order his thoughts and come up with a better answer to her next question. She slid her hand down the horse’s chest and between his front legs.
“He can have water. And some hay would be good.”
Vraz ran in. Pheeso, Artepa and the high crone followed. They all stared at each other for a few moments. Vraz spoke first.
“What is wrong?”
“A yekerk got her legs.”
“By the goddess, man, what are doing? Get those boots off her.”
“We were—” Leinos rarely felt put on the defensive, but Vraz gestured sharply, not giving him time to explain.
The sage commanded them back into the stall. Leinos told the others to water and hay the horse, then to make tea and find clean clothes for the Lady to wear.
Vraz examined her legs. “Cut them off,” he said to Leinos.
“Hey,” Lauren said, but without much conviction.
“Your boots,” Vraz clarified. “I apologize, Horsecaller. It is the only way.”
“No, no, no.” She tucked her legs close. “You are not cutting my boots. Pull them off.”
Leinos already had his knife ready.
“Put that thing away,” Lauren said, wagging a finger at him. “Someone might get hurt.” She put her hands over her ankles where the leather was slashed. “Oh. I see. They’re already ruined. Damn it. They’re so expensive.”
Leinos cradled one leg and inserted the knife at the inside of her knee. She winced. He froze. “Am I hurting you?”
She waved her arm in a negligent gesture. “No. I just hate to watch.” She flung the arm over her eyes. “So, I won’t.”
He sliced both boots to the foot and peeled them away. Beneath, the socks were bloody, and her ankles swollen. Ugly gouges marked where each of the yekerk’s claws had struck. Lauren peeked under her arm.
“Is it over? Oh, yuck. That looks bad. I’m going to need hydrogen peroxide. Where’s the medicine cabinet?”
“I will take care of you, Horsecaller,” Vraz said, “but you must remain perfectly still. Do you understand?”
“Sure,” she waved again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Vraz touched his finger to the first cut. Lauren yanked her foot away and yelped.
“Are you insane?” She looked wide-eyed from Vraz to Leinos.
“I must draw out the poison, Horsecaller. It should not hurt. You must remain still.”
“Didn’t hurt. Tickled. Bad.” Warily, she replaced her foot in his hand.
At a subtle signal from the sage, Leinos moved closer to Lauren, ready to hold her steady. Vraz began again.
“Yow!” Lauren kicked away and scooted back against the wall. “No way. You have to give me something.”
“There is nothing I can give,” Vraz said. “I am unsure of how the poison has affected you as it is. I could not risk it. The Guardian will help you.”
“Oh, indeed,” Lauren drawled. She smiled as Leinos narrowed his eyes at her and braced his forearms over her legs.
Again, Vraz began to trace one of her wounds. Lauren bucked Leinos off. The sage grabbed for her, but she thrashed and twisted, landing a kick to his jaw. Straw fluttered around them. Leinos wrestled Lauren until he sat with her arms locked by his under her breasts, and his legs wrapped around hers. They were both breathing hard.
“Do it,” Leinos said to Vraz.
Vraz touched her skin.
She braced hard against Leinos’ chest, her head on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his. Her whole being strained against him, against Vraz. It took little effort to contain her, but he had to grit his teeth against the feel of her bottom nestled against his groin.
A grunt of effort exited her lips, and Leinos was reminded of a women giving birth. He had not been present when his own children were born, but had assisted others into the world.
“Be still,” he said. “It will be done sooner that way.”
“He’s killing me,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
“He is trying to save you.”
“Am I dying?”
Leinos’s heart clenched tight. His little girl had asked the same question not long after watching her mother and older brother die.
“No,” he said, more vehemently then intended. “But I believe you will have the gods’ own ache in your head come morning.”
She wiggled her hips and he groaned. Vraz smiled at his predicament.
“You’re very—” she started.
“With all due respect, my lady, I will thank you to keep quiet.”
Despite his tight hold of her, she shrugged. “Just like before, when you kept me from going back through that portal thingy. You were hard then, too.”
Vraz chuckled, and from outside the stall, the others laughed. Leinos sighed.
“You’re keeping me here against my will,” she continued, oblivious, her words garbled. “Do I have any rights?”
Her body began to soften, the fight gone.
“You have all the rights, honor, and power accorded Horsecaller, my lady,” he said, though he doubted she heard.
Her eyes drifted closed, and she turned her face into his neck, her breath warming his skin. He loosed his hold, but the raging desire did not abate. If anything, as her body settled deeper into his, the craving grew stronger. Leinos tried to shift out from under the Horsecaller.
“Stay with me,” she said, her voice drowsy.
He halted, unsure, painfully aware it was not the first time he hesitated because of her.
“Please,” she whispered.
“I will not leave you.”
Vraz took a blanket offered by Pheeso. “She will likely sleep for some time,” he said, “and remember nothing. But she will fully recover.” He tucked the blanket around them.
Pheeso removed the lantern and shut the stall door, a too-satisfied grin splitting his face. Leinos breathed deeply and settled in for a long night.
“I like you,” she said so quietly he was not sure he heard right. “Even if you are clueless.”
She slid her leg over his, burrowed against his shoulder, and tucked her hand inside his shirt to rest over his heart.
She might not remember, but he would.
Chapter 7
LAUREN had a nine a.m. meeting, a report to get on her boss’s desk by the end of the day, and a new program to start. Usually, she’d be up early, showered and at her desk in plenty of time. But this morning, she couldn’t rouse any interest in getting out of bed. Darren had spooned close, and that was so rare, she would stay for as long as possible. His heart beat against her back, and she sighed in contentment, realizing with the deep breath that she must have dumped her riding clothes right next to the bed instead of in the laundry room where they belonged. Darren would have something rotten to say about that.
She arched her back in a cat-like stretch, and he pushed a healthy morning erection against her.
Not Darren.
“Holy hell!”
She launched herself away from the stranger, sprawled through fragrant straw, and rolled against a hard wall flailing to push dust and hair out of her face and make sense of what was happening. Too many thoughts and images assailed her mind at once.
Pindar whinnied to her from the next stall.
It hadn’t been a dream. They’d been kidnapped and there’d been a fight and she’d been hurt and she’d slept with…with the Supreme Guardian. He rose, large and powerful, brushed straw from his leather pants, and folded the blanket, never taking his eyes from hers. Leinos. His name was Leinos. And, oh lordy, she’d never regret sleeping with him, only she’d like it better if she could remember.
“Good morning, Lady Horsecaller.”
He reached for her. After a moment’s hesitation, she let him help her to
her feet.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
A simple question. But today there would be only complicated answers. Pulling herself together, assessing how her body felt, she sought for a measure of dignity.
“Of course. I’m fine.” She rubbed her temples, trying to recall how she’d bedded down with this man, feeling fairly certain all they’d done was sleep.
Then why did she feel as if…as if…she’d bared herself to him? If not physically, then in an even more intimate way? His eyes dragged over her, and she felt heat boiling up from her very toes.
From outside the stall, a woman’s voice asked if she would care for tea, and Lauren grabbed the excuse to turn away from the awkward moment. It didn’t matter. Today, they would get this ridiculous misunderstanding straightened out, and she would go home to her monotonous, uninspiring, small life.
With shaky hands, she accepted a steaming mug from an older woman who had the longest, whitest hair she’d ever seen, wondering from where the rebellious thought about her life had sprung. Small was good, right? Her father had liked to live big, her mother had said. That’s why he left them. Big was bad. Small was good. This had held true when she’d been five years old, and it still did.
The woman gave a courteous bow. “I am Artepa, Lady Horsecaller. Together with my mate, Pheeso, I am guardian of the Supreme Guardian. Welcome to Cirq.”
“Yes, welcome,” said another woman from near Pindar’s stall. “I hope your clothes suit. You will need comfort and warmth in the mountains.”
“This is Ramela,” Artepa said, indicating the younger woman. “I apologize for the intrusion, but Leinos insisted we get you into something warm and dry.”
“Oh—” Lauren glanced down at herself. She wore heavy quilted drawstring pants and a long-sleeved wool shirt over some sort of soft undergarments. All baggy, shapeless, and serviceable. She should change back into her own clothes. But she had nothing for her feet, except the thick socks they’d put on her.
“That old battle scar,” Ramela said to Lauren, eyes wide. “Tell us about how you got that. You must have gifted healers where you come from to have survived.”
