He understands I am connected to your soul.
I frowned again.
He understands things differently than you do. Ehrwnmyr raised his last hoof even as I ran my hand down his leg. I didn’t say anything else. My younger brother, Rowan, was also autistic— though more on the Asperger’s side—and he understood things differently, too. When I put the kelpie’s hoof down, he asked, What does the brushing entail?
I looked at his coat again. With less hesitation, this time, I ran my fingers over his shoulder. “Does it…I don’t know… hurt or feel uncomfortable when I push on this stuff?”
It neither hurts nor feels uncomfortable when you apply pressure to my fur.
Fine. Fur. Living, wriggling fur. As if the fibers, themselves, were reading my mind, a few started to curl around my fingertips. I pulled away without them resisting my motion. In fact, I picked up on another emotion Ehrwnmyr was trying to restrain. He actually liked when I touched him.
I took the softest brush from the grooming bag and headed towards his neck, stopping when I noticed him flinch.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Promise.”
He lowered his head.
“I usually start here, on the neck, and work down to your
butt.”
Butt? He was amused.
“You’re, like, four hundred, not four. What do you want me to call where your back legs and tail attach?”
He actually made a chuckling noise; I could feel his neck and shoulder shaking. Whatever. Taking a deep breath, I ran the soft brush down his neck once, twice. His “laughter” stopped and a series of twitches broke down from his neck towards his tail.
I stopped and pulled the brush away. “Are you okay? Did I do something you don’t like?”
Yes—no. He “pursed” his lips as much as an equine can. It’s…nice.
He turned his head slightly and looked at me. I could sense he was nervous, like how I felt whenever I thought of going back to school.
“I’m glad it feels nice for you.” I started to brush again. He lowered his head even more, half-closing his eyes. His lower lip quivered, growing slacker as I worked down his body. The “fur” quieted, holding nearly still except for the static-cling to the brush.
When I finished, I bit my lip and gently scratched the side of his neck. He jerked his head, startled.
Done? He wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding his disappointment.
I gave him a half-smile. “I can start brushing you and cleaning you every day. I do that with my pony.”
He cautiously nodded his head. Is that all?
“I was gonna see if you wanted to do some exercises, like running around or something?”
I like running!
“Okay, let’s go.”
When Dad and Mum accepted the castle Dad’s great-uncle left us, Mum insisted on rebuilding and adding on to the small stables, then adding one event-sized outdoor ring, the large indoor event-sized ring, and two outdoor and one indoor round pens for training. Mum only had her one horse then, Dream, whom she’d had to board while we lived in London, and before that in New York City. While growing up, though, she had spent her summers on her two uncles’ horse farms, so she was excited to start her own. The McInnises already owned their draft horses at that time, too, because Mickey had rescued them, but Mum wanted to “indulge her inner cowgirl,” as she still says.
Since it was still daylight out, I led Ehrwnmyr to the round pen furthest from everything else. (The other horses still randomly had freak-outs ever since he moved in; I didn’t want to stress them.)
I didn’t have much equipment besides the grooming bag in his stable, so I told him to wait inside the pen and jogged to the main stable to get a lunge line and lunge whip. I glanced at the saddles and discarded the idea. I was still sore, and I didn’t need to add another thing we could argue about. I did grab a hard hat, though. Even if I wasn’t going to ride him, I didn’t want to chance a broken head if there was some loophole in the “always have to listen to me” curse.
Horses see way better than humans do, and I’m quite sure kelpies see even better than horses. I wasn’t even halfway back when I felt this wall of fear, anger, and betrayal hit me, nearly knocking me backward. There were no words associated, just the animal emotions.
Unless I wanted to shout, I was too far to speak out loud to him, so I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to project the words, What’s wrong?
I didn’t get a worded answer but rather a weird picture of him looking at me approaching…with the whip.
“Oh.” I said out loud. Mentally chiding myself. “Duh.” You don’t actually hit a horse with a lunge whip. You use it like a projection of your arm, lifting it higher to increase pressure when you want the horse to move away, and lowering it when you want to decrease pressure. Occasionally you crack it for the noise when a horse isn’t cooperating.
A regular horse, unless it’s been sorely abused, doesn’t necessarily equate a whip with an instrument of torture, but sees it as just an extension of the human. Ehrwnmyr, who’d been alive and likely dealing with humans for some time, got that it could be a weapon. I was bringing a weapon into the ring.
With a sigh, I dropped the lunge whip, doing my best to mentally project an apology and an explanation of what I understood about the tool.
The storm of angry emotions in my head subsided enough to where I felt I could move, leaving the whip on the grass, and head to the round pen. Regardless, Ehrwnmyr still trotted anxious circles in the enclosure.
“I’m sorry, really.” I paused outside the gate. “Did you get what I was trying to send about what I was thinking?”
I got a response that still wasn’t exactly worded, but came across as more or less.
“I swear, really, I don’t ever want to hurt you or abuse you!”
There was the equivalent of a whatever response in my head. At least he slowed his trotting some.
“May I come in?”
He stopped and faced me, blinking confusion. I. Cannot. Hurt. You.
“I get it, but I’m trying to be polite here.”
He licked his teeth and chewed, then backed up a few steps. I got the feeling he was okay with me coming in.
“Okay, so, um…I guess we could try at liberty first…” I sensed he had no idea what I was talking about. When we got our own horses, Mum taught us a lot of natural horsemanship things. The problem is, horses are prey animals, things that get eaten in the wild, and horsemanship training is based on the fact that horses know humans are predators. I had no idea what that would mean for a predator horse…but I had to start somewhere. “It means, I don’t attach you to anything and I give you commands and stuff…” The kelpie was still confused, but I didn’t know how to explain better. I pointed to the left with my left hand and waved the end of the long rope, the lunge line, with my right. “Trot!” I said, trying to distract myself from how scared I really was of being in the pen with him.
He stood and stared at me, still confused.
“Go, trot!” I shook the rope harder, waving my hands like I’d do with a regular horse.
He backed up more, half-rearing as he bared his teeth. What do you want? I don’t understandyou!
I stopped. “What do you mean you don’t understand? You did this for Joe’s parents when they came to see you.”
They projected a clear picture of each thing they commanded, as did you, then. I don’t remember each thing, and you’re blocking me from your mind now.
I lowered my arms. “Oh.” Well…crap. “Wait, you read their minds? You can get into heads of other people besides me? I mean…not just for talking?” I knew he could mindspeak with other people. I’d seen him do it. I didn’t know he could pluck thoughts from the minds of people he didn’t already have a bond with the way the daoine síth faerie could.
They were very specifically thinking of each action…and not hiding it. Especially the princess, who seemed to be doing it on purpose. Then, when you heard the commands, yo
u pictured it in your mind, and I can see your thoughts the clearest.
I considered his words. “Oo-kay.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of what he told me, but at least I knew what I was doing wrong. In my head, I pictured him trotting and pointed to the left again, and he was off.
I had him change direction a few times, and then kept doing so while first asking him to canter and then while shifting through walking, trotting, and cantering. We’d gone for about ten minutes when I felt that buzzing sensation in my head again. The novelty of doing something was wearing off and, while this was better than nothing, it was still boring.
I dropped my arms and turned away, picturing him turning in and facing me—but keeping him in my peripheral vision. He was confused at my posture. I was getting tired of explaining so much, so I tried to put it in my head that horses don’t like eye contact, so that’s what I was taught to do to invite a horse back in to me.
I am not a horse. There were many layers to his statement that he wanted to communicate about our relationship, how I was treating him, and everything; I could sense them, but I couldn’t begin to understand them all.
I thought, No, really? with a lot of layers of my own frustration and confusion.
He snorted and turned away from me. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to be captured by humans.
“You guys were looking pretty good.” My mum’s voice made me jump. I noticed her by the gate. How long had she been there? Ehrwnmyr only flicked an ear, not remotely surprised. I sensed he’d noticed her long before. Ugh, I was so dense sometimes!
Keeping an eye on the still-rather-peeved Ehrwnmyr, I walked over to Mum. While she did glance at me, I saw her watching Ehrwnmyr closely.
“So, what happened to break the rapport?” she whispered, and I had a feeling she was purposely hiding her thoughts from Ehrwnmyr, so I did my best to close mine off.
“I… He’s bored with me and doesn’t like that I treat him like a horse.”
Mum nodded. “That will be a challenge, for sure. It’s going to take some time, honey. And since you two can talk, use that.”
“I’m trying!”
She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I know you are. Don’t be impatient with yourself, either.”
I paused, thinking. I knew Ehrwnmyr was impatient with me…but I supposed I was beating myself up pretty hard too, and he was probably picking up on that.
“Would you mind if I tried working with him?”
I shrugged. Mum knew way more about horses than I did, no question. But I was kind of curious if she could figure out more about kelpies.
She smiled excitedly, looking much younger for a moment. “Thanks, honey.”
After letting me out, she headed to the center of the ring. Ehrwnmyr snapped his head and ears towards her.
“When we were at the loch, Heather said you had to listen to me like you listen to her. There shouldn’t have been anything to change that since, am I right?”
He shook his head, and I sensed he answered her, but he didn’t think to let me in on his words, which kind of hurt. It was my soul he shared!
“Good. Let’s play a bit, then.” She pointed left. “Trot!” After a moment, she asked, “How fast can you go without changing gaits?”
His tail swished and he chewed. Still trotting, he sped along, faster than any of the horses I’d seen could canter.
“Nice,” Mum said. “Turn around, now!”
In a blur of motion, he spun.
“Now, canter, but stay collected—be aware of all your muscles, keep your back and neck tighter, more in control. Right! Good! Turn around. Good! Turn, again. Good! Turn with just your rear legs… Good! Now, just the front…”
Mum was giving more and more specific instructions, rapidly. If I’d been trying to ride, I could never have kept up, but Ehrwnmyr did. She had him side-passing and doing all manner of fancy footwork.
“Good! Now, square up with me.” She took only half a step back, but kept her eyes locked on him—more like when she was training the dogs. He lowered his head and chewed, which I sensed was submission.
It was stupid, but my stomach soured that he was listening so well to my Mum. I mean, I needed to learn—and I knew I could learn from Mum—but I really, really wanted to, I don’t know, feel that connection with Ehrwnmyr, so I wouldn’t need to feel like I was starting fresh with a new horse…or, well, a new not-a-horse. Obviously, I needed to figure that in, too.
Her eyes seemed to flash at him again, and he lowered his head more. She nodded and headed over to me.
“What do you think?” she asked.
I tried really hard not to grimace at her huge smile. “Good. But I guess you know what you’re doing, anyway.”
Her face fell a little. Clearly, I hadn’t done a good job of suppressing my ill mood. “Well, I’ve worked with animals since I was younger than you. But, he is yours. What…how can I help you do what you want?”
I don’t know why, but her wanting to help only irritated me more. “I don’t know,” I snapped.
Her voice softened a little more. “I can tell you, I kept my posture and eye contact more like I would with…Isis, or any dog…and the cats. He said he was solitary, so that would make things different from dealing with a dog, since dogs are pack animals. Think of how solitary cats show dominance. But, remember he’s a predator, and you are the alpha, so you don’t show any submission.”
“Okay,” I said.
Behind Mum, Ehrwnmyr whickered.
Mum turned, looking from me to him. He looked at me, and I wondered how much of my emotions I wasn’t hiding again. I looked away and scowled.
He whickered again and took a step forward. Meeting his eyes, I sensed him requesting permission to come closer. “You can come.”
After glancing at Mum, whom I saw relax her posture, and then looking back at me, he walked over, head down. He stretched his neck, reaching his nose to me. I petted his nose, proud that I didn’t cringe as his writhing fur touched me back, and he snorted. I felt him projecting his emotions… He didn’t want my feelings hurt.
My monster faery horse didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Did you want to ride him before we go in?” Mum looked up at the sun.
I rubbed my ribs. “Not tonight. Why, did you?”
Mum couldn’t hold back a hopeful smile.
“He doesn’t like the idea of a saddle…” I told her, then turned at him. “Would you mind if my Mum rode you?”
He lowered his head in an equine shrug. No, he wouldn’t mind. He looked from her to me. In fact, he was kind of curious about it.
I stepped back from the gate. “Go for it.”
She broke into a huge smile that made her look almost like a teenager. Even with all the lines around her eyes. This time, I smiled with her. If I had wanted, Ehrwnmyr would have let me ride. But I really was sore, so getting on any horse was not high on my list of things I wanted to do right now.
Mum walked to the fence and used it for enough boost to swing her leg over Ehrwnmyr. He stood perfectly still until she was on. Even when she was on a regular horse, I could hardly see my mum’s cues. On a kelpie, whom I figured was also reading her mind, I barely saw her move, beyond synching with him as he started to trot, then canter.
She pushed him faster. During one pass, I did hear her say something like “…promise you won’t let me fall?” and saw a few more lines around her eyes. He must have answered in the affirmative, because he broke into a full-out, blurring gallop.
And then they soared over the round pen’s fence.
Which is as high as my shoulders.
Then they disappeared down the road and across the fields.
Not that anyone was around to hear me, but I yelled, “Mum? Ehrwnmyr?”
It took a few minutes, but I heard the thunder of his running hooves coming back. Almost two whole person-lengths away from the fence, I saw Ehrwnmyr coil and curl and launch into the air, landing even past the ce
nter of the round pen. He slowed to a canter, then a trot, before stopping.
Mum, red-faced and breathing heavily, leaned over his neck. “Oh, my God! Wow…that was…wow!” She reached up his neck, scratching his crest. “That was awesome.”
He whickered, arching his neck and puffing his chest, clearly proud to be appreciated for his awesomeness.
With a slightly labored “oof,” Mum slid down his side. “Good boy, Ehrwnmyr.”
“Good job,” I echoed, feeling happy at his joy.
“Thank you, Heather.” Mum gave me a big hug, kissing my cheeks. “That really was…just amazing!”
I laughed. “When my ribs heal a bit more, I’ll try.” The kelpie gave me a bit of a nod. He had enjoyed himself running, too, and I could sense he wanted to share that feeling with me.
“Ehrwnmyr…” Mum mumbled, still scratching his neck. Not once did she seem bothered by—or even to notice—the tentacle fur twisting around her fingers. She chuckled. “We need a nickname.”
Nickname?
After all the bonding stuff between him and Mum, I was kind of glad she was on the receiving end of that tone from him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Just…most of our horses—and I know you’re not a horse—but they have short names we call them by.”
He looked at me. Do I need this “nickname?”
I thought about it, opening the gate so we could head back to his stable. “I don’t know. It’s not really easy to say Err-win-murr.”
What would you suggest?
“Umm…” I thought some more. “Murray? Ermie?”
“Ermie reminds me of R. Lee Ermey,” said Mum, “who’s this famous ex-marine drill sergeant guy. You watched one of his shows with me on The History Channel?”
I shrugged and looked at the kelpie.
I do not mind being called Ermie. I also sensed he liked Mum’s description of the actor, or whatever emotions he was picking up as she described R. Lee Ermey, whom I had never heard of before.
From the direction of the castle drive, we heard the beep, beep, beep of a lorry backing up.
The Earl's Childe Page 2
