Paranormally Yours: A Boxed Set

by Alisha Basso

  Unlike the muted, natural hues on everyone else, iceberg blue draped the queen from throat to toe. Lauren judged her to be in her late seventies. She wore her white hair slicked back on the sides and teased very high on top. A regular beehive. Her cheekbones were sharp as frozen mountain peaks, her eyes could have been cut from ice, and her mouth etched a bleak and bitter line beneath an aquiline nose.

  Lauren’s barely maintained confidence evaporated.

  “Will the pretender step forward?”

  Naele’s voice sliced like wind off a glacier, numbing Lauren’s brain. She knew what the woman meant, but would not respond to pretender, knowing a loaded question when she heard one. Even if she felt like a phony on the inside, she wouldn’t give the queen the satisfaction.

  “I see,” Queen Naele said. “Who claims to be Horsecaller?”

  How Lauren responded to this meant everything. She reminded herself that the queen might appear intimidating, but she was still just a woman, an ordinary person, like herself. She summoned her self-possession and stepped forward.

  “I am the Horsecaller.” Said quietly but with assurance.

  Naele turned her diamond-sharp gaze on Lauren and stared without blinking for some moments. She rose, slowly, slowly stepped off the dais, and approached, circled like a gyrafalcon, measuring, calculating, examining, before returning to her makeshift throne. If a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head, Lauren couldn’t feel more cold.

  “Belenn?” the queen called.

  The innkeeper trotted out of the kitchen. “Yes, my lady?”

  “You have a secure room in the cellar, do you not?”

  Belenn glanced uneasily at Lauren. “Yes.”

  Naele gestured over her shoulder to the guards.

  “Take this…Raver there to await execution.”

  Chapter 22

  AN instant of staggered silence.

  Then, an anguished No from nearby.

  Several voices at once. Leinos, Artepa and Pheeso, perhaps Marzak. Maybe even Jana. Sound came as if through thick ear muffs. Images fractured in a kaleidoscope, frosty blue at center, periphery, and back to the middle of Lauren’s field of vision.

  Someone seized her arm, but she wouldn’t let the strange guards drag her off. She pulled away, he kept hold—Leinos—tugging her into the shelter of his side.

  “No,” he said.

  One by one, her senses registered. She could feel his heart beating, hard and quick. Hear the silence of a roomful of people holding their breath. Smell the aroma of simmering stew wafting from the kitchen. The blue queen stood frozen in sharp relief against the drab gray and brown background. Her guards had begun to come forward, but stood frozen mid-step.

  The Supreme Guardian had spoken in that voice that rumbled from the earth and boomed from the sky.

  But he’d said it himself. He was compromised by his feelings for her. She would like nothing more than to stay forever in the safety of his embrace. That is, the old Lauren would have liked nothing better. But she had changed since traversing a universe to come to this place. Not Cirq, but a place within herself wide open and full of love and intention and mystery. Why she had journeyed so far to find everything she wanted in a man only to have him denied, she couldn’t guess. Why she had journeyed so far to find purpose only to have this woman try to yank it away, didn’t matter. She knew only that she would not go down without a fight. And the fight was hers alone.

  Gently, she withdrew from the sanctuary of Leinos’s arm. When he reached for her, she put her fingertips against his, tender as a lover’s kiss. The loss in his eyes nearly crushed her, but she forced a reassuring smile, drew a heartening breath, and faced Queen Naele.

  Demure and unthreatening be damned.

  “You are making a grave mistake,” she said.

  “Do you speak to me, Raver?” The queen infused her voice with the haughty tone of one grievously insulted, but she hadn’t completely hidden the growing alarm in her eyes.

  “I do. And you had better listen. Your country is nearly dead, in case you haven’t noticed. Your people die of starvation or for no particular reason, your fields have withered, even the birds and fish have fled. All because you do not have horses. I don’t pretend to understand this, but I believe you do. The horses are your only chance—”

  “How dare you?” Queen Naele’s hands tightened into fists at her sides and Lauren thought she might stamp her foot. If the situation wasn’t so serious, she’d laugh.

  “How dare you?” Lauren countered, taking a step closer. “How dare you deny your people their only chance at salvation? I might not succeed, but right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

  “The queen does not tolerate insolence. Guards!” Naele snapped her fingers. “Take her away.”

  “My queen,” Leinos said, “please consider her words.”

  What little color remaining in Naele’s face drained away. “By The All, such defiance must be punished.”

  Lauren slapped her hands up to the guards approaching from either side. They hesitated. “Don’t even think about invoking The All to me, Queen of Cirq. I have met The All. Spoken with her. She has heard the prayers of your people. I am her answer.”

  Another shocked silence fell over the room.

  Naele launched off her dais and came nose-to-nose with Lauren. “I will throttle you with my bare hands if need be,” she hissed. “I do not know what sorcery you used to enthrall these others, but it is wasted on me.”

  Lauren leaned into the woman. “No magic, only something sorely lacking here. Good sense.”

  Queen Naele pulled away and slapped her, knocking Lauren back a couple of feet. “Get her out of my sight.” She stalked back to her chair, then whipped around and directed her words to the rest of the room. “Those who interfere will share the Raver’s fate.”

  The guards surrounded Lauren. Still reeling from the slap, she didn’t react. People started shouting. What would happen to Leinos and Malek? What would happen to Pindar? Strong hands yanked her arms. She thrashed against their hold. Their grips tightened. They began to drag her away. A strangled no burst from deep inside.

  She should go quietly, for the sake of her friends, but she couldn’t help fighting. More guards appeared to hold Leinos, Artepa, and Pheeso.

  In the distance, she heard banging, realized this racket had been in the background for the past couple of minutes.

  A shrill noise pierced the air—one not heard in Cirq for a long time—the enraged bellow of a battle-ready stallion, followed by the swift and loud clopping of steel shoes on cobblestones. A gray streak flashed past the front windows. The inn door crashed open, blew off its hinges, and showered the room with splinters.

  The queen’s guardians released Lauren and blanched.

  Pindar filled the doorway, eyes white-rimmed, nostrils flared, coat sweat-darkened. Cuts dripped blood down his chest and legs. He loosed another ear-splitting stallion roar, searched the room until he found Lauren. He rushed forward, ears flat against his head, lashing out at a man who didn’t move out of his way, biting his shoulder and flinging him to the side. The rest pointed their staves at the horse, but didn’t try to come closer.

  The big gray looked fully six inches taller than usual, and the primal glint in his eyes bespoke eons of survival against more intimating odds than a few peasants armed with sticks.

  She put her arms around his neck, felt the powerful bellows of his lungs working, knew a twinge of fear to see him like this. “Whoa, now. Good boy,” she murmured.

  Pindar snorted. Everyone jumped. They stared. On their faces, in their eyes, disbelief warred with long-forgotten hope. All at once, it dawned on her the hold horses had on these people, the power she possessed by her knowledge. She’d always known she and Pindar had a connection, but could it be the same mysterious link between Horsecaller and horses?

  She wanted to swing to his back and take off. Get away. Her gaze found Leinos. And Malek and Armody, who had come in behind the horse. Lov
e had grown unbidden in her heart. Now, it pierced her soul. Running was not the answer. And where would she go? No, she had to play this out, protect them. Surely Leinos would find a way around his obdurate queen.

  She ran shaky fingers through her precious steed’s mane, repressed stinging tears, turned to the queen. “What will happen to him when I’m gone?”

  If Queen Naele had been colorless before, her skin had gone chalky when the horse burst in. She lowered herself to her seat and took a moment to regain her composure, peering at nothing for some time. “You will release him,” she said quietly. “On the Resting Plains. Now.”

  Leinos moved close to Queen Naele, knelt before her.

  “Already, the land awakens with only one horse in our midst. See how magnificent he is! So shall Cirq be again.”

  “Flowers and grass spring up from his sacred hooves,” Pheeso said.

  “A frit helped fight off the yekerk,” Artepa added as if remembering a dream. “The frits still live.”

  Naele sprang to her feet. “Enough. I have proclaimed my will.” She faced Leinos. “If you interfere, you will be disrequired. Permanently.” She turned abruptly and walked out the front of the inn, head high, spine stiff.

  The scribe scrambled to collect his notes, knocking over the ink bottle. He left it to try and catch his monarch. From outside, Lauren heard her tell him, “Leave me.” He staggered back in, papers clutched to his chest, looking lost and confused.

  Everyone turned to Lauren. She tried to keep the soul-stealing fear she felt off her face. With one hand on Pindar’s withers, they walked out together.

  The Horseguard made way, then fell into step behind. Queen Naele strode up the road at a brisk pace. Her guardians jogged past the Horseguard to catch her.

  Leinos came alongside Lauren, Pheeso and Artepa positioned themselves in front, and Malek and Armody got on the other side of the horse, each keeping one hand on the big gray’s side.

  “I will talk to the queen again,” Leinos said. “She will see reason.”

  “That hasn’t exactly worked so far.” Lauren kept her eyes straight ahead.“She wouldn’t know reason if it smacked her in the face.” If she looked at Leinos, she might lose her resolve. “I’m going to let Pindar go because no matter what else happens, it’s important to me that he is safe. Maybe he’ll find the other horses.”

  She stroked his shoulder, willing herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. She would see him again. Ride him again. Somehow. “I don’t want any of you to do anything to endanger yourselves.” She directed this especially over Pindar’s back to Malek and Armody.

  She realized how ridiculous that sounded the moment the words left her mouth. If danger could be a middle name, they all shared it.

  Leinos took her hand, his touch the comfort of a tranquil lake, a peaceful sunset, an ocean breeze. Silence kept them company the rest of the way. By the time they reached the edge of the plains, their procession had become a parade.

  Everyone had piled out of the inn, and it looked like the entire village had joined in as well. No one spoke, but everyone could see the patches of soft, green grass stretching away into the distance.

  Pindar’s attention went to the mound barely visible against the horizon. You will be all right, Lauren repeated to herself. If she let any other thoughts intrude, she would falter, and she would not, could not. Not in front of the queen, not in front of the Horseguard, not in front of Malek.

  Pindar stood next to her when they stopped at the edge of the plain. Seventeen hands and fifteen-hundred pounds of spectacular horse flesh that was so much more than muscle, sinew, bone. He didn’t nudge her side for treats, stamp his foot, swish his tail, or nod his big head.

  Leinos gave her hand a final reassuring squeeze and stepped back. She urged Pindar forward with a pat on the hip. “Go on,” she said, and clucked for good measure.

  He took a step, and another, then turned his huge brown eyes on her.

  Lauren squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Please, just go.

  He did not. Again, he emitted that huge stallion whinny that came from deep in his chest and shook his entire body. He turned so that he circled her, began to trot, and slowly spiraled away. Others had to move or be run over. Queen Naele fell backwards in her hast to avoid being trampled. Within his circuit, every blade of grass turned green before their eyes, and here and there, the tiny white flowers popped up.

  The audience had been quiet, but they began to murmur now and point.

  Pindar picked up canter, tossing his head and whipping his tail from side to side. His sacred hooves churned the soil. A couple of people exclaimed and clapped their hands as clods of dirt flew through the air.

  And all the while, Queen Naele’s face grew thunderously, dangerously furious.

  Lauren could not suppress a smile as she watched her horse. Not her horse…her—what? By The All, she couldn’t think what to call him any more. Whatever their relationship had been, it had inexorably changed.

  Just when she thought the queen might burst a blood vessel, Pindar wheeled and halted in front of Lauren. He lowered his velvety muzzle to her face and they breathed together. She put her hands on his cheeks and pressed her forehead to his. In a flash, she saw him sprinting across an endless grassland, feet not touching the ground. A huge herd joined him. The horses of Cirq, moving together in boundless joy.

  She kissed him between the eyes, not trying to understand what passed between them. And not allowing herself to believe this would be the last time she saw him. He spun away. Within a few strides he flattened into a ground-eating gallop, and soon, all they could see was the rising cloud of dust in his wake.

  ~~~

  A short while later, Lauren was shoved into a dark, dank room. The heavy door slammed shut, the outside bolt thrown. She tumbled down a few steps and landed in a heap at the bottom, where she stayed. There was no point in getting up. The dirt floor was cool against her cheek, a musty tang sharp in her nose.

  Finally, in the blackness, she allowed her tears to fall.

  Chapter 23

  THIS, Lauren thought, was what waiting to be executed felt like. Wild imaginings, sickening dread, bone-shaking terror.

  She cried until her very being leaked out, and her body wilted against the floor. But eventually, because she never could stay still for long, she picked herself up and explored the storeroom.

  She groped forward from the base of the steps until she reached a stone wall, and followed the seam of grainy dirt and smooth slab from corner to corner. In the third, an obstruction. Lightly, she ran her hands over its contours. An empty wooden cask. She found the spout and sniffed. Wine, or brandy. Which she would love a glass of right now. Or two, Or ten. Insensible would be good.

  At the steps again, she gradually stood, keeping one hand over her head until it touched the low ceiling. She followed a timber back to the wall and investigated from ceiling to floor, searching for openings. None. Nor on the other three, except for the door. And quiet. This room was below the cellar, and clearly unused for some time.

  Once familiar with the basic dimensions and obstacles, she stepped off the distance to the corner opposite the door, put her back to the wall and slid down to sit.

  Eerie calm after weathering the most crushing storm of emotion she’d ever known. She’d lost a baby and withstood a nasty divorce, both times thinking it couldn’t be worse. All that propped her up now was simmering anger.

  She hadn’t seen this coming.

  Not. At. All.

  To keep her too-vivid imagination at bay, she tapped out songs with her fingertips and played an endless loop of the little-traveled road near her brother’s house in her mind. Driving at night in early summer. When swarms of bugs pattered the windshield like rain.

  They could have given her a chamber pot. And a candle.

  A few hours in, the silent darkness took on a life of its own, humming with texture and color. But not light. Perhaps they intended to let her wither and die here
in the dark. Just as Cirq had withered and would soon die without her horses.

  Exhaustion. She put her head back and slept.

  Insects pelted the windows of her dreams.

  ~~~

  Sound jolted her awake, it took a moment for her to remember, and in that moment, her heart rate shot up and she started to shake. They were coming for her. The door opened and Jana entered with a lantern that circled the blackness like the beam from a lighthouse. Welcome as it was, Lauren put her hand up to block it until her eyes adjusted, and her pulse settled.

  The dismal room looked just as she had imagined except that the cask and steps both were decoratively carved, a remnant of better times, merrier times. Jana came down the steps with a large basket hooked over one elbow, and a can of hot water over the other. Clutched to her side—bless her—a pot to pee in. She knelt in front of Lauren and offered a wobbly smile.

  “You are to tidy up as best you can. The queen’s scribe will be here shortly.”

  “Why?”

  Jana paused in setting down the lamp and other things. She glanced over her shoulder. A guard kept close eye on them. “Do you not wish to tidy up?”

  “I don’t see the point.” Lauren lifted her shoulders and rolled her head around, trying to release the tension. Her body ached. “But I meant why is the scribe coming?”

  Keeping her back to the door, Jana slid a short knife from her sleeve and stabbed it inside a small loaf of dark bread.

  “They did not tell me. Here, eat. I will brush your hair.”

  “I’m not really hungry,” Lauren said, keeping her expression downcast. “I’ll save this for later.”

  She wrapped the bread in a napkin. While Jana fussed with her hair—and blocked the guard’s view—Lauren worked the knife free and into her pocket. She used the hot water to clean her face and hands, and dutifully drank a cup of tea.

  Jana pretended to wipe dirt off the shoulder of Lauren’s shirt, leaned close, and whispered, “Supreme Guardian Leinos is with the queen. No one has seen either of them all the day.”