by Alisha Basso
“Now, I have advised Queen Naele for most of her life. At one time, all monarchs made use of our wise and unbiased council. That changed after the horse wars. Ah, we do not have enough time for history. What was Vraz thinking?”
Jana brought in a tray with tea and snacks.
“Beautiful,” Marzak said, addressing Jana. “You are the goddess incarnate.” He rubbed his hands together while she poured. He took the cup, drank down the hot liquid, then held it out. “Again.” She refilled; he drained the cup once more. “Much better. Is Leinos still with the queen?”
“No. He has gone out,” Jana said
“Out?” Lauren and Marzak repeated in unison.
“He met with the queen. She has retired. He left. His guardians went with him.”
Marzak nodded. “Thank you…?”
“Jana,” Lauren and Jana said together.
“Thank you, Jana. Please ask him to join us as soon as he returns.”
Jana inclined her head and went out.
“No doubt he needed a walk after meeting with Queen Naele,” Marzak said. “She has that effect.”
Nervous tension tightened Lauren’s gut. Leinos had gone out? That couldn’t be good. Out where? To the nearest pub?
“Now, where were we?”
Marzak was trying to smooth over it, keep her distracted. She would go along, for now.
“The horse wars,” she said. “Or, after.”
“Yes, yes. We were released from service. And that is putting it too nicely.”
“You were kicked out?”
“Precisely. Unwelcome we were,” he said with a gusty sigh. “The queen of Cirq gave us refuge, and the crones, too. Not Queen Naele. This was long ago, you understand. Before my time.” He paused long enough to note he still had her attention. “No, the new world order did not allow for he old, the mysterious. Much wisdom was lost. The All was forgotten.”
“She might have been forgotten, but she’s still around.”
Marzak poked her knee with one finger. “I know. And envious I am. She has never seen fit to reveal herself to me. Then, that would be counted as a blessing by some. Did you know Sebira had a dream she believes was inspired by The All? It is what led us to you.”
“I see.” What else was there to say?
“Are you not curious, Horsecaller? There are connections everywhere, if you only look. Too many have been blinded by fear. Surely you are not one of them.”
“I don’t know about that.”
The All had said she must choose love or fear, between allowing the light or losing herself to darkness. Was it love that opened the eyes to see, that shed light? Nothing was that simple. She was so far out of her depth, she didn’t know what to think, or even how to think. Her world was code. Cool, consistent computer code that either worked or not. Code didn’t have feelings. It wasn’t concerned with shades of meaning, philosophical theories, or deciphering abstract concepts like love and fear.
Marzak patted his body, clearly looking for something. “I brought you a gift from Sebira. She was quite adamant about its importance. Ah, here it is.”
With a flourish, he presented her a rectangular bundle the size of a small book, wrapped in very fine, faded blue cloth, and tied with braided…hair? She angled it toward the fire and ran her fingers over it. Horse hair? The fabric had a faint sheen to it, like silk. She held it on her lap, not sure this was a gift she wanted.
“What is it?” she asked.
Marzak busied himself inserting a taper into the flames, lighting two torches on either side of the fireplace, and a candle on the table by the window. The room brightened considerably. She’d been so preoccupied worrying about the queen, she hadn’t even noticed how dark it was with only the fire. He picked up the table, brought it over, and put it in front of her.
“Should I know what it is?” he asked. “She gave it to me just as you see it and bade me deliver it. Said it belonged to the first Horsecaller. The world has come to a very bad end when sages are reduced to delivering packages for crones.”
He smiled when he said it, and there was no rancor in his tone. If anything, he sounded amused, like it was a private joke. Lauren smiled also, but she still didn’t open the package. She put it on the table and rubbed her damp palms against her thighs, nerves twisting her gut like a plate of live eels.
Fear had ruled her life.
She was damned tired of it.
Fortifying herself with a gulp of tea, and taking a deep breath, she picked apart the knot. The blue material slithered aside to reveal a narrow black book and a strand of dark, dull beads. But it was the book that riveted her attention. She glared at it, commanding it with her thoughts to be something else.
Anything else.
Marzak seated himself across from her and peered at the contents of the package as well, then into her face expectantly. “Well?”
The book was an old, leather-bound diary. She was sure of this without picking it up, without opening it. She knew this because she had once held one just like it and turned its fragile pages. A slim journal identical to the volume before her sat in Steven’s safe at home.
And that one had belonged to her great-great-grandfather, Enzo.
Chapter 21
THREE things happened at once. Someone entered the room, Marzak disappeared, Lauren shoved the journal and beads in her pocket.
She jumped to her feet and turned to the door. Leinos stood there, the planes of his face stark in the dim light. Her stomach grew queasy. Things had not gone well.
Out of the corner of her eye, a swift movement made her swivel back around. There, in the middle of her bed, stood her cat, Jester. It couldn’t be. No, this cat was too large to be Jester, but his markings were the same—mostly white with one black and one tawny ear.
He walked to the edge of the mattress, jumped to the table and sat, purring. She rubbed his head. He lifted his back into her hand, and she ran her fingers along his silky coat, lightly grasped his tail and tugged gently, just as he liked. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Marzak’s cloak as well as the rest of his clothes puddled on and around the chair where he’d been sitting. Had he turned himself into her cat?
Leinos came closer and pointed at the creature. “What is that?”
Somehow, Lauren maintained composure. “I think it’s Marzak, masquerading as my cat, Jester. He’s a pet of mine, at home.”
Leinos reached for Jester, who’d begun to wash himself, but the cat leapt to the chair, vanished inside Marzak’s cloak, and before their eyes, the sage materialized as himself. Lauren thought she’d ceased to be surprised by anything in this place, but she couldn’t stifle a startled jerk as the sage popped into view.
They waited while he made sure everything was in place. “My,” he said. “That was…interesting.” He used his napkin to wipe cat hair off his tongue. “Apologies. Not often does anyone sneak up on me, but if anyone could, it would be you, Leinos.”
“How—” Lauren sat down again. “Why my cat?”
Marzak patted her hand. “Cat,” he said, filling both their cups with tea. “Intriguing creature. I am afraid you have caught me out, Lady Horsecaller. Ethically speaking, that is. Had it not been for the precipitous arrival of the Supreme Guardian, you would not have known.”
“Known what?”
“That he was probing your mind without first asking permission,” Leinos explained. “Or at the least, warning you.”
“Precisely. Your cat was at the forefront of your thoughts when Leinos startled me. Because I prefer to control who knows my whereabouts, I reshaped into it.” Marzak emptied his cup, looking sheepish at getting caught. “Now, having discharged my duty, I leave you in the Supreme Guardian’s capable hands.” He rose and gave a small bow. “A jolly good evening to you both.”
As he walked past Lauren, he hesitated, then put his hand on her shoulder. “Dwell in your heart. Do not fear who you are.” He tightened his grip. “Lady Horsecaller.”
Lauren didn�
�t watch him go. If he used the door, he did it silently. Leinos took the chair the sage had vacated.
“You met with the queen.”
“Yes.”
“And?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear, couldn’t contain her curiosity.
“And…it did not go as I had hoped. I told her about you too quickly. Eagerness overrode caution. I truly believed that the promise of Cirq’s horses would more than compensate for any other concerns.”
“That I’m a Raver.”
“That you are a Raver, a woman, and the Horsecaller.”
“I’d have to be the Horsecaller to return the horses. The rest is irrelevant.”
“Not to her. She dreads a repeat of the past. When the power of the Horsecaller threatened to overthrow the queen.”
Ah. That was what he’d lied about earlier. “I don’t want to be queen.”
“She is afraid. Fear makes her irrational.”
Lauren gestured helplessly. “But Cirq is falling down around her ears anyway, if I understand things correctly.”
“You do. And it will be up to you to convince her of what is right when you meet with her tomorrow.”
“I have no chance if she won’t listen to you.”
“She believes me to be…compromised.”
“Compromised?”
“By my feelings for you.”
Lauren stared at him. She had no response for that. She crossed her arms and felt the edge of the journal where she had tucked it into her pocket. Perhaps it held the answer. But she was afraid to open it. To see irrefutable proof that her great-great-grandfather had ridden through the Ravery just as she had. And established a new country wholly dependent on horses.
The timing was off, though. For Cirq, the first Horsecaller was ancient history. Much, much farther in the past than the hundred-and-thirty-some years ago that Enzo had disappeared. It had been longer than that since they lost the horses.
She corralled her thoughts to the present.
“You told the queen how you feel about me?” Lauren didn’t understood his feelings for her, let alone her own.
“No. But she is sharp as ever.”
“I see.” Lauren fidgeted with her tea cup, smoothed her napkin flat. “Well. I need to go check on Pindar. Has the other half of the Horseguard returned?”
“Yes. And they are eager to meet their first horse.”
In the barn, Lauren repeated the earlier session, teaching them how to approach the horse, where to touch him. Being with Pindar and sharing him with others calmed her rattled nerves. He was as restless as she, but patient with the questions and petting and oohs and ahhs.
Leinos ushered them out, and she took the big gray for a stretch of the legs down the long aisle of the dark barn. There were twenty stalls, all empty save for the lone cow quietly chewing her cud just like cows back home, and the chickens who had settled into their roosts for the night.
In the morning, she would meet with the queen. Somehow, she would convince the stubborn woman that calling the horses was in everyone’s best interest, and they would be on their way to the Bitter Reaches. They must go soon. Or there would be no horses to call. Cirq would cease to exist.
The adament pull toward the Bitter Reaches she had felt after visiting the Resting Plains returned. What would happen to her if Cirq ceased to exist?
Pindar’s hooves made soft thuds on the packed dirt of the passageway, a rhythm as familiar to her as breathing. Glancing into the vacant stalls they passed, wondering about the horses who had stayed there, she could feel their presence, as she had on the Resting Plains. They were restive, anxious.
She and Pindar made the turn at the far end of the building. The only light came from a lantern near the door, filtered through a thin haze of dust, casting Malek’s and Armody’s shadows toward her. Leinos leaned against the wall, watching, always watching.
She stopped to etch the sight into her memory. Everything up until this moment had been fear, learning, anticipation. Tomorrow, the whole of it would change. Lauren closed her eyes. She would choose love—as The All had advised—trust that she knew enough, and pursue the horses with conviction.
There was a slight rustling to her left, the sound of a horse moving through straw. Pindar let out a soft wuffle and received an answering snort, a sigh, the stamp of a foot. She looked. Horses. One in each stall, heads out, ears pricked, greeting her, blinking as if just waking up, nostrils flaring to know her with every sense. Dusky and pale, solid and paint, long, wavy manes, forelocks sweeping down over noble profiles.
Lauren’s breath caught in her chest. A quick glance to the others told her they did not see them, but Malek had perked up and looked from her to the stalls as if he suspected something. Pindar whinnied and tugged on the lead line, trying to reach the nearest nose.
Then they were gone, leaving her wondering if she’d imagined them. But Pindar had seen them, so she wasn’t crazy. Not yet.
Malek stared at her as she walked the big gray back toward his stall. The boy rushed into her arms.
“Did you see them?” he whispered.
“Did you?”
He shook his head. “No, but I could feel them, could tell you saw them.”
She hugged the boy. More than anything, she wanted him to have his own horse. He would, and soon.
After taking Pindar up and down the long aisle a few more times, she returned him to his stall and the vigilent, loving gazes of Malek and Armody. How these two had become the big gray’s guardians, she didn’t know, but she was glad.
Outside, several of the Horseguard kept an eye on things, and she felt safe heading to bed. Sleep? She didn’t expect much of that, but she’d need rest before facing the queen.
As usual, Leinos anticipated her needs and sent her to her room while he made a pot of tea that would help her relax. He brought it up a few minutes later, poured a cup and brought it to her where she sat on the bed, propped up by plump pillows. She sipped the tea. It tasted faintly of licorice. He turned to go.
“Can you stay?”
Selfish. But she couldn’t ask Jana. She and the rest of the inn’s staff were working all night in the kitchen to create meals fit for a queen out of their meager stores. Malek and Armody were with Pindar. Artepa and Pheeso were with each other. She didn’t want to be alone. Yet, was it too much to ask of the Supreme Guardian?
He regarded her, his face unreadable, his mind elsewhere. That was just as well.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Only…I miss you.” She groaned inwardly. The tea had already relaxed her quite enough.
“Are you requesting the comfort of another, Lady Horsecaller?” He asked this quietly, barely more than a whisper. The hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, Supreme Guardian, I am.”
“Then, I cannot refuse.”
He climbed onto the bed and put his arm around her. No more than a few seconds passed before her head nestled into the contours of his shoulder, and she found blessed, dreamless sleep.
Early morning found her under her blankets—alone—the fire burning brightly, a container of hot water on the hearth. A covered tray on the table smelled of warm bread. Today, they would all eat like royalty. Today, she would face Queen Naele. Today, she would officially become the Horsecaller of Cirq.
She washed and dressed carefully, braided her hair back. In the light from the window, she examined the strand of beads Marzak had brought. It looked to be made from tiny hunks of hoof left over from a trimming, polished and strung together on a metal chain. Sacred hooves.
What was the significance? Marzak had said the package he’d been told to deliver was something of the first Horsecaller’s.
She fastened the strand around her neck hoping a bolt out of the blue would infuse her with the secret to calling the horses. She held her breath.
Nothing.
She kept it on anyway.
Leinos arrived shortly, knocking this time, and waiting for her response before e
ntering. She grabbed the journal and tucked it inside her shirt before telling him to enter.
“You look born and bred Cirqian,” he said.
“Maybe that will take her mind off the Raver thing.”
“Indeed.”
She released a nervous laugh. “What should I say?”
“Say as little as possible. She will ask questions.”
“I will be demure and unthreatening—” He cut her off with a look. She shrugged. “So it’s a bit of a stretch.”
“You have from now until we reach the bottom of the stairs to practice.”
They exchanged a smile.
“Will you be there?”
He took a breath before answering. “Her mood is hard to read. She may wish this interview to be very public or entirely private. Either way, she will be ready soon.”
“And we mustn’t keep her waiting.”
She followed him down the stairs, forcing air in and out of her lungs, promising herself she wouldn’t fidget. But her hand strayed to the necklace. She traced the beads with her fingertips.
The common room had been cleared of all but a small, freshly constructed dais with a large, cushioned chair on it. One table and stool were nearby. Of course, the monarch would be elevated above the riffraff. Why should it be any different here?
As soon as they entered, Artepa and Pheeso stepped from the shadowed corners. In the courtyard, most of the Horseguard stood in small groups, trying to look casual, but there was too much foot tapping, uniform adjusting, and shifting of weapons from one hand to the other. She was reminded that the fate of many hung in the balance.
Minutes ticked by. There was no clock, but Lauren felt a second hand tap, tap, tapping inside her head.
Soon, a door opened and people filed in. Guards—guardians—first, then a tall woman who had to be the queen, more guardians, Marzak, and a small man with a stiff-legged limp. Queen Naele sat and her cadre took up position in a line behind her. The sage stayed near the wall. He winked at Lauren, and she tried to smile but was afraid what she produced was more of a grimace. The man with the limp lowered himself slowly to the stool, stretching his leg to the side. He put a sheaf of paper, ink bottle, and pen on the table in front of him.
