by Alisha Basso
He stopped, startled. But a smile tipped one corner of her mouth. Good. He had begun to fear she had no sense of humor. Not that he had found anything to laugh at in some time. Nor did he think it made any difference to her ability to call the horses.
It did go a long way toward easing their journey, however.
“Why plod when you can dance?” he said.
“Meaning?”
“Something my father used to say about our choices in life.”
She nodded. For a moment, his own questions about her other life crowded out the answers she needed and deserved. Questions like whether she had a mate in that other place. That had to keep. Even though sleeping next to her roused long dormant inquiries of another kind from his body. It would keep.
“So,” she prompted with an elbow to his side. “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…”
“Ah!” He purposely overreacted to her poke in his ribs, grabbing his side.
She blinked at him, long lashes sweeping gracefully up and down. Her hand flew to her mouth. She was trying not to laugh. “That didn’t really hurt…did it?”
He shook his head. Her dark eyes captivated him, and he was overlong in answering. “No, my lady.”
She looked away to her soup, seemed to be searching her thoughts for a moment. Finally, her eyes returned to his.
“Please call me Lauren.”
“I will grant your wish if you will return the favor.”
She nodded solemnly.
He began, “The land of Cirq was settled by the first Horsecaller when he called the horses from their home in the Bitter Reaches.”
“Oooohhh. The Bitter Reaches. Nice touch.”
“You may not think so when you go there. It is a most inhospitable place. Hence the name.” And I will not be there to keep you warm or protect you.
“The land had been uninhabitable before the horses came, but afterwards, it blossomed, and the people prospered. The goddess smiled upon us. Peace prevailed for many, many generations. Eventually, though, people grew restless, and they ventured outside the borders of our realm, which the first Horsecaller had cautioned against, and they learned the horses were unique to Cirq.”
“Seriously? Are you sure this place didn’t used to be called Eden? Was there a snake involved?”
Leinos had never questioned their history, and he did not understand the ironic note of skepticism in the Horsecaller’s voice. “You wanted to know what happened.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Do go on.”
“Going outside our borders was not exactly the downfall, but it was the beginning. Those in other countries quickly understood the power of the horses and wanted it for themselves. But they—the horses—could not be made to go. Even though the then Horsecaller tried. The first had always said the horses were for Cirq only.”
“Greed and envy. It’s the same everywhere. Let me guess, if the others couldn’t have the horses, then they wanted to destroy them. To destroy Cirq.”
She gazed into the fire as if seeing something else there, something from her own history, perhaps. He waited, knowing questions were forming in her mind—as they continued to do in his own—expecting her to land on the most difficult one.
“Does the Horsecaller somehow control the horses?”
Like a punch to the gut, his doubts returned. If she were the Horsecaller, she would know this. He needed to talk to Vraz. But the sage had gone to ground for the night so Leinos only nodded, hoping she would not ask how the Horsecaller controlled the horses. If he knew the answer to that, he would have succeeded in his own attempt to call them.
“Why did the Horsecaller try to make them go?”
Leinos released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “We have asked this ourselves over and over. He disappeared and his entire family was murdered. We were invaded from all sides. Many died.” He could not keep the bitter tone from his voice. “People and horses. One herd escaped. But we have not had a Horsecaller to call them.”
Her mood had quickly turned from teasing to serious, and he didn’t like being the cause of it. But she needed to know. She picked up a sliver of wood and twirled it between her fingers, stopping only long enough to finish her tea.
“How long ago was this?” she asked.
“Over two hundred courses.” As he said the words, the Crone Prophecy struck him like a thunderbolt.
She nodded and leaned out of the fur to pour more tea into her cup. A hank of her dark hair spilled over her shoulder and swung toward the flames. He grabbed it before it could catch. She turned quickly and regarded him with wide eyes, lips slightly parted. He could cup her cheek, run the pad of his thumb over its rise to feel the softness of her skin. Her glance flicked to where his palm still hovered beside her face, and she smiled. A cautious smile, fleeting but genuine. The tingling returned to his chest as it had when the Ravery opened, right before she appeared. They both sat back.
“And you’re sure there are horses in the Bitter Reaches?”
Leinos gathered the fur around them again before answering, still stuck on the prophecy. “The High Crone has been close enough to sense their presence.”
“But not close enough to see them?”
“No. But she sensed your presence. Through the Ravery. And here you are.”
“Indeed,” she said, with more of her earlier mocking tone. “Here I am.”
Leinos poked the fire, and they sat quietly for a time, the only sound the crackling and popping of the burning wood punctuated by a cutting snore from Pheeso. And the rapid tapping of her sliver of wood against the ground.
“Where did you get your Horsecallers before? Surely you’re not in the habit of shopping the universe and snatching people from their homes for your own purposes?”
“No, my lady. We have never done this before. All Horsecallers descend directly from the first.”
He didn’t add that many believed the first Horsecaller was also a Raver, like Lauren. Vraz had not wanted her to know, and it could be that he was right. There was a growing faction who believed the Horsecaller and horses were the cause of all their troubles rather than their salvation. A faction who also believed anything or anyone to do with the Ravery to be evil. Surely the portal must also be the dark, unused path of the prophecy?
Their new Horsecaller was a woman. Many had concluded their goddess had turned her back to them, and that was why the horses stayed away. But he often wondered if it was the people who had turned their backs on the goddess, and that was why everything had gone to ruin. Either way, Lauren was a gift in their time of greatest need.
Nothing anyone had done or tried had turned around Cirq’s decline. While he lived, he would not allow its people to be overrun and absorbed by other countries, countries that waited patiently just outside their borders for Cirq’s death rattle. Why waste resources on a campaign to finish them off when it would be over soon anyway? He studied Lauren’s profile in renewed wonder. There were many empty bellies crying out for surrender. When the horses returned—when the land returned to its former splendor—they would see that he had been right.
“What did you mean when you said you needed the horses to live?”
Leinos took a deep breath, forcing his mind to the present. How to explain something he knew without reason?
“Since the horses have gone, the land has lost its plenty. Slowly but surely, the ground produced less and less. Flowers stopped blooming, then didn’t grow at all. No fish in the streams. No birds in the sky. Drought for seasons or downpours that washed away what was left of the soil. Then, people began to succumb to the slumbering sickness. They do not eat or care about anything and eventually they simply fade and…die.”
He stopped. His voice had begun to shake, and she had stilled, her cup poised at her lips. Again, he breathed deeply, this time pushing away the images of his family. She put her tea down and turned to him, lightly laying her hand on his arm, her touch all at once a brand and a balm.
“I’m so sorry,�
�� she said. “If I made light—”
“No—”
“Let me finish. It’s just that this is a lot for me to take in. I was dreaming earlier, when you jumped on me—”
“Apologies, my lady. You needed to be quiet at that moment or I would never—”
“It’s okay. But the dream…it was more of a nightmare…of horses being attacked by those flying things…if it’s anything to do with what you’re telling me…” she paused and looked at him, the firelight casting stark shadows under her eyes.
“It was terrible. Terrible. Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, I use humor to deflect that. I mean, when I confronted my husband about his affair, I couldn’t keep a straight face. Giggling and crying at the same time.” An indelicate snort of laughter escaped her throat. “See?” She squeezed his arm. “I’ll do what I can, but—”
“That is all we ask.” He laid his hand over hers.
Again, she gifted him with that smile, a little less tentative this time. He found himself smiling in return, the pain of the past dulled, if only for a moment.
“You owe me, though,” she said as she eased into their sleeping bag. “I have tickets to the Yankees game Friday night.”
Chapter 11
ARGUING. Lauren must have set her alarm to radio again. She reached for the snooze button and froze.
Again, she’d forgotten where she was, what had happened. She sighed. The fur still smelled of him, of pine and leather and sweat, but he was gone. Better. It was bad enough sleeping with him. Waking up together like they had yesterday was too intimate. She heard his voice mixed with the others.
“We can not send the boy back on his own and we do not have time to take him back.”
“It is too dangerous, Leinos.” This from Artepa. “He is one of the only children in all of Cirq. We can not risk him.”
“I can keep up,” Malek said. “I found you by myself in the dark.”
Lauren pictured the boy’s stubborn face. He couldn’t be more than ten or eleven years old. How had he traveled the same path they had the day before on foot, alone, in the dark? Much of the way had been over bare, hard ground. There had been no obvious trail, and they’d left almost no marks in their wake.
“We have no choice,” Leinos insisted.
“We have waited this long,” Artepa argued.
Lauren stretched, knuckled her eyes, pushed her tangled hair back, and rose—against the wishes of her body. It creaked and groaned like an old sailing ship leaving port for the first time in years. The others hushed when they saw her. They stood in a tight knot just beyond the fire.
She nodded to them and went to Pindar, noting that most of the camp had already been packed. He whinnied. It must be morning because it was no longer dark, but it wasn’t particularly light. Wind howled outside their shelter, and she hoped they would be done with the mountain today.
“My decision is made,” Leinos said. His tone brooked no argument. “We will leave him in Steepside and send a messenger to Ramela. She can fetch him later.”
Pindar pushed his nose into Lauren’s chest like always. He probably missed his paddock and the other horses. She stroked his long face and rubbed one of his favorite spots—his ears—then hugged his neck. He tilted his head against her, returning the gesture.
He must be tired. Climbing mountains wasn’t what he was used to, either. She felt his legs and picked up each hoof. No swelling or heat to indicate inflammation.
She poured grain into his feed bowl and went in search of something for her own rumbling stomach.
“Perhaps the queen can leave the city and meet you somewhere instead of dragging the Horsecaller all the way down there?” she heard Vraz suggest.
The pot sat in a pile of glowing coals. Would it be more of the same from the night before? She hoped not. The watery broth hardly qualified as soup let alone enough to sustain them through another day’s trek. She lifted the heavy lid. Happy surprise, the pot contained hot cereal, and she ladled a small portion into a bowl, unsure whether the others had eaten yet.
They returned to the relative warmth of what was left of the fire looking in turns downcast, determined, distressed, and delighted. This last emotion belonged to the boy, of course, who probably thought this was all very exciting. Lauren wished she shared his enthusiasm. If nothing else, having him along would lighten the mood. He dropped cross-legged to the ground with a little bounce. The others sat or crouched more slowly. They were all old and creaky, she thought. Malek was one of the only children, Artepa had said. This must also be part of the land ‘losing its plenty.’ How awful it would be to see everything and everyone you loved collapse and disintegrate.
“Please, Horsecaller, help yourself to more,” Artepa said, gesturing at the pot of cereal. “We have taken our fill.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said. But the avid look on Malek’s face as she swallowed another spoonful told her that he had not taken his fill. “So, what’s our itinerary?”
“Today we travel down the southeast side of this range,” Leinos said. “We will pass through Steepside where we will restock our provisions.”
Pheeso grunted. “If they have anything to spare.”
Lauren filled another bowl from the pot. “I don’t like to eat alone, do you?” She handed the bowl to Malek. “Would you mind? Just to keep me company.”
The boy’s bright blue eyes nearly popped from his head. He tucked his blonde waves behind his ears, took the bowl without a word, and began shoveling its contents into his mouth so fast she was sure he’d choke.
Leinos, meanwhile, had glared at Pheeso and continued. “From there, it is two more nights to the Inn at the Crossroads. If my message made it to the queen, we will be met by the Horseguard.”
Pheeso grunted again, undaunted by the look from the Guardian. “If she deigns to send them.”
“She will send them.”
Lauren could see Vraz had something to say and was getting impatient. Over time, she would understand their hierarchy and relationships and where she—or the Horsecaller—fit, but she had a bone to pick with the sage, saw no need to allow him to get a word in edgewise. She turned to the boy.
“How did you find us, Malek?”
He looked up from licking his bowl clean, startled. She scraped the bottom of the pot to give him another helping and plopped a half scoop into her own dish.
“I…” He flicked his eyes around the circle, his jumpy gaze lighting on Artepa.
“The Horsecaller asked you a question,” the woman said, but with kindness. “Answer her.”
He swallowed hard. “I followed the flowers. Right pretty. Like none I ever saw.” He set down his bowl. “Forgot. Brought you some.” He dug in his pack and shyly passed a few wilted white blooms to Lauren.
She took them. Tiny and delicate, like Star of Bethlehem, one of her favorites. “They’re beautiful.” Limp as they were, they glowed in the pale morning light.
“Easy to see even without the full moons,” Malek added. “Like bits of them come down from the sky in little drops.”
“Thank you. But…” It was her turn to sweep the small group. Each of them stared at the flowers with a different version of shock. “I don’t remember seeing any flowers. I think I would have noticed.” The landscape had been so gray and raw.
She would have noticed.
They all stared at Malek. He squirmed under their scrutiny. They all stared at Lauren. She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug.
Vraz stood and grabbed the boy’s arm, hauling him to his feet. “Show me.”
They all got up. Lauren started to follow. Leinos touched her arm. “No.” He pointed his chin at Pheeso. “Go with them. We will finish striking camp.”
Pheeso nodded and loped after the sage and the boy.
Lauren helped Artepa roll up their sleeping bag. “What does it mean?”
Artepa didn’t answer right away but there was a glint of anticipation in her eyes. “Let us wait for them to return. Then we will k
now.”
Lauren busied herself packing the grooming supplies and getting Pindar ready. She dipped her hands in his chilly drinking bowl and scrubbed them over her face thinking she must look a fright. The inn Leinos had mentioned would have a tub. It had to. And a bed. Two more nights sleeping on the ground. Would her body hold up? Chiropractors were probably few and far between in Cirq. Yet, now that she had gotten warmed up, she didn’t feel too bad. She just had to keep moving and not think too much.
Something new in the air buoyed her steps, something brought by a boy with a fistful of limp flowers. She’d seen it in Artepa’s face. Felt it when Leinos touched her arm. He stood at the edge of their camp, staring in the direction Vraz, Pheeso, and Malek had gone. Even with his back to her, she could sense his excitement.
The uplifted sensation expanded her, created an opening for…expectation, an eagerness pulling her forward. She hadn’t felt this way since a child. Christmas Eve, a big horse show, her first date.
The common thread stitching these events together was not only the anticipation, but their singularity. The freedom of giving that one thing her full focus. She could worry about her dentist appointment next week, or that she was low on cat food, not to mention how everyone was handling her disappearance or whether Steven was feeding her cats. He was. But there was nothing to do about any of it. Worrying only wasted precious energy.
What she could do was give the situation here in Cirq her full attention, allow that eagerness to pull her forward. They needed their horses. She was a horsewoman. She might not have given her entire life to it until now, but she could trace her lineage back through generations of horse people all the way to Enzo who brought only his prized stallion and a dream with him from Italy.
Come to think of it, Pindar descended from that magnificent horse. The thought froze her momentarily, then she slowly straightened from brushing the horse’s foreleg and looked him in the eye. His return gaze held a hint of smugness, as if he were thinking, “Really, you just remembered that?”
“Lady Horsecaller!” Vraz sounded out of breath.