by N. M. Howell
A single tear fell down the woman’s cheek as she handed Rhea the reins. She turned to leave.
“Please,” Rhea said. “What’s your name?”
“I am Trina,” she woman said. “Trina Raenar.”
Rhea smiled and bowed her head low. “Trina Raenar, thank you for your generous gift. I promise you I will do everything in my power to bring peace back to our realm. And when I do, I shall return your beautiful horses.”
Trina smiled and bowed, then turned and walked back toward the camps in the distance.
Rhea glanced back to her guardians, her eyebrows raised. “Well, this was an unexpected turn,” she said. She stroked the stallion’s face, and he closed his eyes and nudged into her.
“This will make travel easier,” Grayson considered. “We’ll get there much faster this way.”
They all looked eager except for Keaven. He eyed the horse, his eyes narrowed.
“What,” Rhea asked him. “Not a fan of horses?”
Keaven pondered, chewing his lower lip. “It’s not exactly that I don’t like them. It’s just that they don’t tend to really like me all that much.”
“Don’t be silly, they’re animals. They like anyone who feeds them. I’m sure they’ll like you just fine.”
Keaven shrugged and moved forward, taking two steps toward the horses. The horses neighed and huffed, taking tentative steps back from him, clearly agitated. Rhea raised a brow, staring curiously at him.
“I think it has something to do with the whole undead thing,” he said, shrugging.
Rhea considered. “I never would have guessed. Is it the same with all animals?”
Keaven shrugged. “Not sure. Most, yeah. Never had any pets or anything for this reason. Though, I really do love animals. I always play a ranger in video games so I can have pet companions.”
Rhea laughed and caught Grayson rolling his eyes behind him. Keaven really was obsessed with videogames, which was hilarious to her as there was no such thing in the Otherworld. How he’d discovered his love for them, she had no idea.
“I think we know which one is yours,” Arry said, walking up to the massive white stallion. He stroked his hand on the horse’s neck, admiring his beautiful coat. The streaks in his mane shone brightly, glistening rose-gold in the deep orange morning light as it caught in the wind.
Glancing up, Rhea stared at his saddle, which was above her head. She had no idea how she would get up there, let alone ride something so massive. But with another nudge on her shoulder with his nose, the horse clearly was eager for her to try.
Arry laced his fingers together, allowing her to step in his hands. He boosted her up. She mounted and adjusted into the large saddle, settling in high atop the horse’s back. The horse was calm, steady, and waited patiently for her to get comfortable before taking a step.
“Looking good up there, kid,” Grayson said. He busied himself by untying the other five horses, handing the reins to each of them in turn. He chose a large gray horse for himself, and handed off a smaller brown one to Arry.
Roan chose the biggest one, of course, which was at least half a foot taller than Rhea’s. He shone a beautiful gold in the warm light, his muscles gleaming just as Roan’s did.
Taelor had been quiet all morning, but seemed to be bonding with a smaller black horse nearby. He pressed his head to the horse’s neck, murmuring something softly to him. The horse seemed to be responding, and kicked at the ground with his hoof. Taelor then hopped onto its back with ease, settling perfectly on the horse’s saddle as if he had been born to ride.
Keaven was more tentative. His horse took a few steps back from him as he approached. Keaven offered some fruit crisp crumbs to him that Taelor had tossed over, and the horse finally settled. After a few minutes of getting to know the animal, he managed to hop up on his back with little protest.
From her new vantage point above, Rhea noticed the horses had unique markings across their bodies. They shimmered lightly, just a shade lighter than the rest of their fur. When the sunlight caught, it looked like beautiful patterns were emblazoned over their entire bodies; a beautiful network of swirls and patterns the looked familiarly like elven glyphs. They were remarkable creatures, and Rhea had never seen anything quite like them before.
“Oh,” she said, raising her hand to her mouth. She turned back to look in the direction the woman went. She was blinded by the rising sun, but could tell the woman was long gone. “We forgot to ask their names.”
Taelor approached on his horse, his walk so steady that he barely shifted on its back. “They’re Traelii horses. They’ll tell you their names in time.”
Rhea blinked. “They talk?”
Taelor rolled his eyes impatiently. “No, they don’t talk. But they’ll tell you in their own way.”
Rhea had no idea what he was talking about, but she let it go. She could tell he was in a hurry, though with the horses she imagined they would get to their destination far sooner than originally planned.
“Okay, ready to go?” Grayson asked.
Rhea nodded, stroking the horse’s neck. The saddle was comfortable, as if it had been molded for her body. It was made of the finest leather, soft to the touch and stitched with intricate stitch work. Small symbols had been stamped into the leather, symbols she recognized but couldn’t read. They matched the patterns on the horse’s back, which shone brighter now that the sun was higher in the sky.
Taelor position himself before Rhea, his horse blocking her path. “Please, Rhea. I implore you to use your glamor before we set out. After what happened in the woods, you must understand now what dangers are out there for you.”
Rhea nodded. “Of course, I understand.”
She closed her eyes and reached deep within her, tugging at the tendrils of magic that clouded her from outside vision. She wrapped herself in a magical veil, allowing her glamor to shimmer over her, changing her back into her human self. When she finally opened her eyes, she was no longer Rhea Greystone, heir to the Otherworld throne and daughter of the late evil King Aeris. She was now Rhea, the human from Detroit.
“Is that better?” she asked him.
Taelor inspected her up and down and nodded quickly. “Thank you.” He then looked off into the distance, his sharp eyes peering out into the horizon toward the path they would take. “We should be able to pass the Crimson Plains by nightfall. That should give us enough time to set up camp near Harborfell.”
“Harborfell?” Rhea asked. “That’s not far from Greystone.”
“Only a day by horseback,” Taelor agreed. “We will save a great deal of time with this gift.”
“Let’s go. The earlier we cross the Crimson Plains, the better,” Grayson called from far ahead. He’d already brought his horse down toward the river, leading the way for the rest of them. He looked majestic on the back of his large dark gray horse. His coloring even matched, and they looked as if they were carved from the same stone. It looked almost like a painting that could’ve been hanging on the Greystone walls.
“Why is it better to cross the plains earlier?” Rhea was unfamiliar with the Crimson Plains, never having heard the name before. She thought she knew most of the region around Greystone, having taken geography lessons as a child. But it had been so long since she’d studied maps, and she figured especially during war that names changed and landscapes were altered.
“It’s a treacherous region,” Taelor told her, pulling his horse up beside her own as they walked forward. “It’s known for bandits and criminal activity, and there is no protection across the plains. We’ll be wise to cross swiftly and go unnoticed if we can.”
Rhea nodded. “Why do people call it the Crimson Plains?”
A small grin formed on Taelor’s face as he gazed ahead. “You’ll see.”
He pulled forward, joining Grayson at the front of the line. The rest of them walked single file, all on the edge of the river as the burnt village disappeared behind them.
Rhea regretted not saying goodby
e to the villagers, but she figured they were busy preparing to resettle and rebuild. She made a mental note of the first thing she’d do as soon as the world saw peace, and that would be to send help to these poor people. She would send money, resources, builders—anything she could manage once they arrived at Greystone. That was, if they were met with a welcome when they arrived. She swallowed hard, suspecting that a welcome wouldn’t be the case at all.
Their travel was easy at first, the group walking alongside the river in silence as the sun rose high in the sky. Rhea was nearly lulled into sleep on her horse’s back, the rhythm slow and steady and soothing as they pressed forward.
By the time the sun hung directly above them, the heat blazing even in the cool autumn air, the terrain became more rugged, the hills steeper, and the river turned away from the direction they traveled. They paused at the last bend of the river before it disappeared to the east.
Taelor hopped off his horse and began to fill his water skin. The others all did the same, and Rhea realized she didn’t have one for herself. How stupid and unprepared she had been. She simply sat there watching them as they replenished their supplies and watered their horses. Roan caught her expression and rolled his eyes at her, bringing a large water skin for her that he’d carried in his pouch. “Don’t worry, kid.” He smiled at her with that casual, lopsided grin of his. “We’ve got you covered.”
She gratefully accepted it and tucked it in the back of her saddlebag as he led her horse to the water where it drank deeply. “Thank you,” she said. “Not sure what I’d do without you guys.”
Roan suddenly looked serious. “I’m not sure what we would’ve done without you, either.”
They stared at each other for a moment before he returned to his horse. Rhea watched him as he climbed onto his massive steed and pulled forward, trotting ahead of the group up the hill.
When Rhea reached the rocky path, her horse began to trot as well. She leaned forward and held on tight as they climbed the steady hill. Even trotting along on the rocky terrain, the horse’s gait was smooth. She stroked his glistening muscles as he worked, grateful for the help the animal offered their journey. She didn’t know if her weak body would have been able to carry her this entire way. Just the thought of it made her muscles ache with exhaustion.
Rhea removed her sweater and tied it around her waist as they climbed. The high sun burned her shoulders, but it felt good against the cool breeze that blew in, carrying dust and the smell of dry grass and greenery.
By the time they climbed the hill, the landscape had changed drastically. They were no longer surrounded by trees and streams and bushes. What surrounded them now was an endless sea of red. Rhea’s breath left her as she gazed out at the horizon. There wasn’t a hill in sight and nothing but flat plains in all directions sprawled before them. She now understood why they called it the Crimson Plains. The ground was red, glowing a deep crimson hue under the high sun. There was hardly any greenery, merely thin strips of dry brown grass spaced far apart, revealing a clay terrain beneath their feet.
The ground was cracked and appeared as if it were something from another planet. She remembered seeing posters advertising a sci-fi film at the local theatre in Detroit that she liked to walk by all the time. The photo was of Mars. The same cracked red surface that depicted the foreign planet now lay before her, threatening and dangerous.
Looking up, she noticed there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was as if they’d stepped into another world, one where the sun baked their skin and there wasn’t a drop of water in sight. She reached behind her and held her hand over the water skin that Roan had given her, hoping it would be enough for their trip.
The journey was long and brutal. Rhea drank most of her water and it felt like they were never going reach the other side. Even the horses had slowed down, their backs glistening with beads of sweat and they marched onward. Rhea felt sorry for her horse, and at one point stepped off of him to offer him a drink from her own water skin. Taelor put a stop to it, claiming that the horse was well watered and would be fine until they reached the other side, but it didn’t stop Rhea from worrying about him. She stroked the animal’s neck as he nuzzled her, a bond forming between the two.
Rhea’s lips were dry and her body ached, and the sun hung low in the sky before the terrain began to change. Her ears perked up at the sound of bells and whistles being carried through the very welcome breeze. The air had been dead most of the journey, nothing but a thick, heavy heat sitting over them, but now the air cooled and she breathed in deeply through her nose, relishing in the sensation of the breeze against her skin.
“I think I hear something,” she said. Her guardians brought their horses to a stop and turned toward her, questioning.
“I don’t hear anything,” Grayson said.
Raising her finger to her lips, she shushed them. She closed her eyes and listened carefully. The sweet melody filled her ears. She opened her eyes again and smiled. “I do, I hear something. Music.”
Taelor turned to look in the direction she was pointing, a concentrated expression on his face as he strained to hear the music. “Strange,” he said. “There shouldn’t be anything for another few hours.”
“An army?” Roan asked, hopping down from his horse and stretching his muscles like a cat in the sunshine.
Taelor shook his head and frowned, his expression calculating. “No, not an army. I don’t sense any danger, but there is something curious up ahead.”
Rhea perked up, unable to help the smile that formed on her lips. “Let’s go see what it is.”
Grayson shook his head. “Out of the question. We don’t know who or what it is, we need to stay true to our journey. We don’t have time for side trips.”
Taelor looked around him, gazing into the horizon at all angles. “The music is coming from the direction we journey.”
Rhea beamed.
“See?” she said to Grayson. “It’s on our way. Let’s go.”
She hardly had to nudge her horse with her heels for him to know she wanted to move. He stepped forward, and Rhea led the way. She was excited for a change in scenery, anything but the hard desert landscape that they had journeyed through the past day. If she had to look at one more crack in the clay earth, she’d go crazy.
They traveled together slowly and as the sun sank lower, the music grew louder. The winds picked up, offering a cool respite from the overwhelming dry heat of the plains. Even the horses seemed happier, her own shaking his head side to side and snorting loudly as his mane blew in the wind.
A large shadow loomed in the distance. Rhea’s guardians moved their horses around her, positioning themselves between their destination and herself. She allowed them to protect her, knowing full well that if she protested they would ignore her anyway.
As they walked on, the shadow grew larger. It looked to be a large tent in the distance, the sun setting behind it casting an ethereal orange glow over the massive structure.
Rhea could smell food, too, and her stomach grumbled. The smell of salt and spice filled her nose, and she pictured a feast waiting for them. She had snacked on the elven fruit crisps over their day-long journey, but they didn’t fill her stomach like a proper meal would have. She would give anything for a steak or some bread, or even a cracker would do.
Their pace slowed as they approached the tent, the music now loud enough for all to hear.
“What is it?” Rhea asked as she peered out at the massive tent. Images decorated the side of the large circular structure; animals of all shapes and sizes and strange patterns behind them glowed in bright colors. Massive carpets were strewn across the desert floor and people ran this way and that. Creatures of many races busied themselves with preparations in the distance.
Rhea and her guardians stopped far enough from the structure to stay safe, but Rhea wanted nothing more than to run into it and explore—to at least take advantage of the shade that the large tent cast, to protect her delicate skin from the hot sun.
/> “It looks like a circus,” Taelor said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
Roan bristled beside her, his muscles becoming tense.
Raising her eyebrow at Roan’s reaction, she asked, “What is a circus doing here in the Crimson Plains?”
Taelor shook his head, his eyes narrowing at the tent. “I know not, but the sun is low in the sky and this might perhaps be as good a place as any to rest for the night if they can offer shelter.”
Roan shook his head, his arms crossed over his massive chest. “It’s a bad idea. We should go on as we originally planned. Harborfell can’t be that far from here.”
Taelor glanced at the sky, a shiver passing over his body. “I sense it will get very cold tonight, as the temperatures drop in the desert,” he said, his voice quiet in the breeze. “Besides, the horses are tired and I’m not sure they’ll make it to Harborfell without a solid rest. If I’m right, we have another few hours to journey before we near the region surrounding Harborfell, and it will be dark before we arrive. We don’t know if we’re welcome there. We should at least investigate this place if it means we can keep Rhea warm and rest up for the next leg of our travels.”
Roan frowned, but reluctantly nodded his agreement. “Fine, but let me go first. I don’t trust this.”
He nudged his horse forward and the rest followed behind. Rhea raised her eyebrow at Keaven, who came up beside her.
He caught her expression and shrugged, his face alight with an excited smile. “I love the circus.”
Rhea chewed her lower lip. She had never been to a circus before. All she knew was that they did tricks and breathed fire and rode large animals. She knew there were many traveling circuses in the Otherworld, many of which had come to perform at Greystone castle, but she was never allowed to attend. Her father said it was too dangerous, but she’d always suspected it was because he didn’t want her to have any fun.
She was excited to see what was in the tent, to see where the music and the amazing smells were coming from. Her muscles tensed with excitement, the prickle of energy buzzing across her skin as they neared. She could sense magic of all kinds around her, pressing strongly against her body as she braced herself against it.
