by Dani Harper
“Perhaps I can show you instead. Would you like to visit my world?”
The words were out before Trahern considered them, but he allowed them to stand—with a slight amendment. “I can take you to Tir Hardd for a short time.”
“Really? Holy cow, I’d love to get a glimpse of the faery world!” He caught her as she bounced up to throw her arms around his neck—and he laughed as she punctuated her words with kisses. “It’s underneath ours, right? Can I bring instruments? Can I take samples? It’ll be like a field trip! Omigod, think of the rock formations down there . . . ” Trahern silenced her with a longer, slower kiss.
“When?” she asked as soon as they drew apart. “I’ll need to leave Fox with Brooke and Aidan.”
“Ask them when it is convenient, and that is when we will go. Perhaps warn them that I cannot predict precisely what hour we will return. Time does not work the same in the fae realms.”
“That’s okay. Fox will sometimes agree to stay overnight there because of the cats. If he doesn’t want to, though, they can just bring him here.” She kissed him again and hurried from the room, leaving Trahern with a profound sense of wonder. Who knew that it could be so singularly satisfying to make a woman happy? It made him want to do even more for her, greater and grander deeds, anything at all just to see that delight on her face as often as possible . . .
“You expect me to get on one of those?”
The sun was a rosy glimmer along the eastern horizon, casting just enough light to see the two tall horses standing on the campus lawn in front of Lissy’s house. They were much bigger than she expected—eighteen hands? More?—but big she could probably handle. Weird was something else entirely. The gold one sported honest-to-God horns that spiraled up from its brow as if it were an exotic antelope. The smoke-colored one was just plain spooky, with its jutting tusks and strange milk-white eyes. A loud snort from it had her taking an involuntary step backward—
Straight into Trahern, who rested his hands lightly on her shoulders as she continued to stare at the creatures. “Cyflym and Cryf are blooded fae horses from Lord Lurien’s own stables,” he said. “There are very few finer than these.”
“This is your usual mode of transportation? What happened to magic?”
“You said you do not like poofing.”
“I’m reconsidering.”
“It would be much more uncomfortable for you to be translated over such a distance.”
Recalling how she felt after being zapped out of the drugstore, Lissy sighed inwardly. “I guess I’m riding. Which one is—nope, lemme guess. I get the prehistoric thing with the tusks, right?”
“His name is Cryf. His gait is smooth, and he is fearless in nature.”
“Does he bite? Kick? Disembowel his rider?”
“He would never be so ill mannered. You will be safe with him.” Trahern stepped forward and knelt before the horse, apparently looking for something in the grass. When he rose, there was dry soil in his palm, which he rubbed over Cryf’s nose and face. The horse’s nostrils flared as the tall fae spoke sharply: “Dychwelyd yma!”
With one hand on the horse’s neck, Trahern extended the other to Lissy.
“What did you tell him?” she asked, allowing him to draw her close to the animal as its ears pricked with interest.
“I instructed Cryf to return to this place. He will not forget where to bring you should anything occur to separate us.”
Swallowing hard, she touched the broad gray forehead, allowing her hand to slide down the center of the horse’s face until her palm rested between the protruding tusks on its big dark nose. It was surprisingly soft, and she stroked it with gentle fingers until Cryf raised his great head and nibbled at her hair with questing lips.
“Does he like me, or do I just taste good?”
“Possibly both.”
“That’s not as reassuring as I’d like.”
Trahern chided him, and the animal stepped back. That’s when she noticed Cryf’s feet weren’t touching the ground . . . Turning slowly, Lissy saw that it was true of Cyflym as well. While both animals were truly tall, at least some of their imposing height was due to their hooves barely brushing the very tips of the grass. Speechless, she simply pointed until her companion caught on.
“They are not mortal creatures, good lady. Faery horses belong to the wind and the sky.”
Lissy found her voice then. “Please tell me we’re not flying.”
“Not this day. Perhaps another time.”
Okay, that’s something. She walked around him to survey Cryf’s ornate black saddle trimmed in silver. Finely crafted, its spare, clean lines reminded her of an English saddle but with a high cantle and tall front swell. Embroidered hunting scenes raced around the flap, and the slender silver stirrup was cleverly shaped like a dragon with its tail in its mouth. Clearly it was the most beautiful tack Lissy had ever seen, but all the riding she’d done with Morgan as a teenager wasn’t going to help her mount a creature this tall—or this buoyant! “I think I need a ladder.”
“Place your hand thus.” Trahern lifted her hand and set it on the horse’s withers.
Immediately the great horse knelt on all fours. Lissy scrambled into the saddle and tangled her fists in Cryf’s long, pale mane as he rose again to his feet. It was more than strange to look down on Trahern! If I fall off, I’m gonna break something for sure.
The saddle is enchanted, and you will not leave it unless you wish to.
You really thought of everything, didn’t you?
I will not risk your well-being. And that is why you will be disguised as well.
A strange buzzing sensation covered her skin from head to toe, as if suddenly coated in humming bees. “Hey!” When the bizarre feeling ceased, Lissy’s jeans and sneakers had been replaced with fine boots that laced up to her thighs over pants as supple and soft as doeskin. A long, dark tunic, tastefully appointed in silver, fit her curves perfectly. Even in her wildest dreams, she would never have worn an outfit like this, yet it was as comfortable as a second skin. Lissy caught Trahern eyeing her with speculation. “Don’t get any ideas, mister. I’m not sure whether to say thank you for the gorgeous outfit or yell at you for dressing me without permission.”
“You appear as a Hunter now. If a human were to be seen in my company, it would draw attention and perhaps suspicion.”
I didn’t think of that. “I’m guessing they don’t get many humans in the faery world.”
“In the Nine Realms, more than a few. But in Tir Hardd, no.” At least, not yet.
Her hair tickled her face. Absently, she raised a hand to brush it back and froze. “What did you do to me?” The strands in her dark-gloved fingers were shining white and smooth as silk, much like Trahern’s. Before she could think to ask, the air in front of her shimmered and solidified into a mirrorlike surface, and in it she saw the porcelain skin and exquisitely fine features of a fae woman—with her eyes rounded in shock and her mouth hanging open. Lissy closed her mouth, and the woman in the reflection did the same. She patted her face and stared intently, trying to determine what color her own eyes were. As for hair, the snowy stuff hung in a long careless braid over her shoulder. She tucked some loose wisps back into the plait, knowing they would work their way out almost immediately. “All I can say is that this had better not be permanent,” she said as the conjured looking glass faded away into nothingness.
“It is but a glamour, a strong one. Sadly, even I cannot see your true form, but better to be overcautious than not enough. As I said, I will not risk you.”
He leapt into his own horse’s saddle effortlessly, though Cyflym was as tall as Cryf. Just as Lissy realized that neither seemed to have reins, Trahern’s golden mount headed off across the campus grounds. Her horse followed as if tied by a string, keeping perfect pace.
Few people other than dog walkers and joggers were out this early, but none of them turned to look at the riders. Lissy adjusted her posture to post while trotting and found that
Cryf indeed had a smooth gait. There was no bouncing, no jarring, at all. Was it because he didn’t touch the ground?
All too soon they left the grassy lawns for the busy street beyond. Cyflym broke into an easy canter, and Cryf followed suit down the center line between the moving traffic. Lissy knew she could trust Trahern, but it was damn unnerving. What would they do if a car turned into their path? She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. As they crossed an intersection that brought them out on Isaacs Avenue, a delivery truck started to make a left-hand turn off Roosevelt. Yanking Cryf’s mane and shifting her weight into the back of the saddle didn’t affect his forward progress in the least. Diving from his back would throw her in front of oncoming traffic.
“Trahern!” She braced for impact—
It didn’t come. One moment Cryf stepped in front of the grill of the truck, and the next, the truck headed down its intended street. As if I hadn’t even been here. Putting a hand to where her heart attempted to escape her chest, Lissy tried to slow her breathing—and jumped when Trahern took her arm. She hadn’t even seen him ride up alongside her.
“Are you well?”
“No, I am not well.” The only thing keeping her from punching him was the truly surprised expression on his face. “What the hell happened? How come I’m not dead? Or am I dead and I don’t know it yet?”
“I regret that I did not think of how this might appear to you.” He waved a hand at the traffic around them, and she realized they were still standing in the busy intersection. Cars and trucks passed back and forth, some pouring from a turning lane as the lights permitted them, and none of them so much as brushed against the dark-clad riders in their midst. “We are not presently on their plane of existence.”
Lissy clamped her teeth to keep her mouth from falling open again. A different plane? We’re in another dimension?
“All fae beings are. It is why so few humans can perceive us.”
“But I’m not a real faery, I’m just disguised as one.”
“You ride a fae horse, and its powerful aura shields your own.”
Thankfully, her heart rate had slowed down. “Okay, so I don’t have to worry about colliding with anything in the human world?”
“You will pass through anything created by mortals.” Trahern walked his horse beside her. She hadn’t even realized that Cryf was moving! “However, some trees and most rocks exist in both realms.”
“Check. Don’t go charging into a mountain.”
“A wise strategy. We will leave the road behind us soon.” He galloped his horse ahead, and again Cryf kept perfect pace. Gradually their speed increased until the fastest thoroughbred would be unable to keep up with them, yet Lissy felt secure in the saddle. They left both the city and the highway, heading due north. Over fields and forests, hills and streams, through fences and farmyards . . . no matter the terrain, she felt strangely in sync with Cryf, anticipating his every motion and moving with him. A fierce, wild joy surged through her, an exhilaration that sparked in every cell. Was this what Trahern felt when he rode with the Hunt? Just as she wondered what it might be like to ride through the very clouds, the ploughed fields of wheat gave way to rocky land dotted with sagebrush. Jutting basalt bluffs told her exactly what their destination must be.
Palouse Falls.
“Stop!” yelled Lissy as they topped a rust-colored ridge. Any fear she might have had that Trahern wouldn’t hear her was instantly allayed. He was at her side before the horses even slowed to a standstill—but he didn’t get to say a word before she pointed her finger at him. “You’re heading for the falls, aren’t you?”
“Of course. It is one of the main portals to Tir Hardd, and the closest.”
A cold shiver zipped down her spine despite the morning sun. “Look, I saw you—when we first met, you—after you left us, I—” She gave up and covered her face with her hands, fighting to find her calm and failing utterly.
“You are worried about the precipice?”
“Seriously? That waterfall is nearly two hundred feet, and you jumped your horse over it without hesitation before disappearing into thin air. How could I not be worried about that?”
In answer, he held out his hand. When she took it, she found herself suddenly seated in front of him, his hard thighs on either side of her legs and his strong arms wrapped securely around her.
“Ride with me,” he said, and she nodded. Cyflym sprang forward into an easy gallop across the arid landscape toward the park. Several campers were up and about but paid no heed to their passing. The faery horses crossed the parking lot and banked to the left of the bowl-shaped gorge beyond. Rather than follow the worn trails, however, they headed overland to the Palouse River, hidden from view behind the basalt columns and cliffs. A voice sounded inside her head: Do not be afraid. Lissy trusted Trahern, but her heart still tried to climb into her throat as the horses picked up speed and ran along the top of the river as if it were a highway. Ahead she spotted the strange columns of the Castle formation and belatedly realized Trahern had chosen this route so she wouldn’t see where they were going until it was—
They rounded the bend and hurtled over the lip of the falls.
TWENTY-SEVEN
A scream rose in her throat and stayed there. There was no sensation of falling, no sensation of gravity, no inner warning of being up or down or anything. As far as her equilibrium was concerned, nothing was out of the ordinary—except for the terrifying view and the deafening roar as they rode straight down the back of the plunging cataract! The green-blue water below was a fast-approaching wall . . .
And then it stopped. Everything around her stopped. The surging water that pounded beneath the horses’ hooves, the wind and spray that numbed her face, the thunderous rumble and crash of the falls that shook her bones. All soundless. All still. Yet the horses galloped on, seemingly unaffected. By now they should have struck the great rocky basin of water, shattered like glass against concrete. Instead, distance had changed, shifted, lengthened into the strange vacuum of silence.
I’m glowing! We’re glowing! Lissy stared hard at her hands knotted in Cyflym’s long mane. Despite the bright sun, it was impossible to miss the bizarre phosphorescent green that emanated from every detail. For an instant, she remembered the strange luminosity that had surrounded Trahern when she’d witnessed him riding off the edge of the falls the night they’d met. Then her attention was seized wholly by a far more vivid glow in the water ahead, as a vortex of light opened up like a camera iris. The horses leapt through without hesitation. For a long moment Lissy could see nothing but the brilliant blue-green light, as flesh and bone seemed to be pulled and squeezed and stretched to its limit.
Abruptly it was all over. She gasped and blinked as if surfacing from underwater—and indeed she had expected to do just that. Instead, she was still mounted on Cyflym as he slowed to a walk and stopped on solid ground. At least she thought it must be solid ground as ordinary sensation flooded back into her overwhelmed brain: the smoothness of the saddle that molded itself to her, the protest of her cramped fingers, and the extremely welcome feel of Trahern’s arms and legs still sheltering her. She realized she was already leaning back against his hard body—okay, plastered to it was more like it—and sat up a little as her fingers unclenched.
“Are you well?”
It took her two tries to find her voice. “I’m alive,” she managed at last. “I’d call that a win. Sorry to be such a scaredy-cat.”
He was out of the saddle in an instant, his hands gentle as he lifted her down. “Do not apologize. You showed great courage.” He kissed her forehead as he rested his hands on her shoulders.
“Are you kidding? White-water rafting is going to be easy after this. I was scared out of my mind!”
“Is that not what bravery is? Doing what you fear to do? You were already frightened, yet you agreed to ride with me without hesitation. And you did not close your eyes but met your fate head-on.”
“Good thing I didn’t scream,
then. It would have spoiled your big brave image of me.”
“Never.”
Lissy couldn’t resist stamping her feet a little to test that what was under them really was solid ground. Yup, terra firma—or is it faeryland firma? “Remind me to get my brother, George, to take you on a roller coaster one day. He knows where the wildest ones are.”
He narrowed his eyes, but there was amusement in them. “Do I detect a desire for vengeance?”
“You know it, mister.” She let him kiss her anyway—she wasn’t that vengeful—long and deep and sweet, until something bumped the back of her head. And bumped it again, harder. Lissy turned around to find herself nose to nose with Cryf.
“He believes we should go, and so do I. Time does not move the same here as in the human world, and you would not be pleased to return home a week hence.”
Cryf seemed content to pace alongside Cyflym, which left her completely free to look, really look, at their surroundings. The broad pebbled trail wound gently through tall grass dotted with vibrant blue flowers. Giant trees towered to skyscraper heights overhead, and tiny flashes of bright, glowing colors swooped and soared from limb to limb with trilling calls. Horses and riders seemed infinitesimal in scale, vastly insignificant. Amid the coastal redwoods of her own world, Lissy had felt herself a mouse in a cathedral. Here, the forest was a universe, and she was a speck of stellar dust.
“So beautiful . . . ” The interlocked branches were too far away for her to discern the outline of their leaves, but the shape of the trees themselves didn’t seem to match the image Trahern had conjured in the smoke of her backyard campfire. “This isn’t the Silver Maples forest at all, is it?”
“I would not take you to such a dangerous place. Do you see the white bark? These are ash trees, not unlike the little ones outside your own home.”
“My home could fit inside one of these incredible trees. I think my whole townhouse row could fit inside some of them!” She continued to gaze upward in purest wonder. A steadying hand suddenly rested on her shoulder, and she blinked rapidly and waited for a wave of dizziness to pass before meeting Trahern’s eyes. Belatedly she realized the horses had stopped. “I guess I got carried away. The trees are utterly magnificent. And even that word doesn’t do them any justice. They must be incredibly old to be such amazing giants.”
