“Is that supposed to make sense?” Dayna asked.
Carey scowled. “I never said this would be easy to understand.”
“Just do your best,” Jaime said patiently. “We’re with you so far—Derrick has something you need before you can leave.”
“Arlen provides all his couriers with a certain number of spells. By setting them into an object—different kinds of crystals and rock, usually—he gives us something we can take along and use if the ride turns ugly.”
“For instance, if someone like Calandre sends someone like Derrick out to chase you down,” Eric suggested.
Carey nodded. “Usually it’s a recall spell, which would take a courier back to the safety of his employer’s dwelling. But Arlen is the only one who fully understands the spells that can cross worlds. He couldn’t take the chance that someone after the document would be included in the recall.”
“Then Calandre—or whoever—would have both the document and Arlen. It’d be impossible for anyone else to come up with a checkspell,” Jaime surmised.
Carey blinked at her. “Exactly. So he set the new spell for me, twice—once to take us away, and once to get us back. But magic is a little tricky—”
Dayna laughed out loud, then covered her mouth as he turned an annoyed gaze on her. “Sorry,” she mumbled around her hand, the smile still in her voice.
“—and some of it works on the principles of intent rather than direct instruction; all I knew was that language would be accounted for. I had no idea Lady would be changed like this.” He scowled on her account. “I doubt he knew—it may even be a glitch in the spell.”
“Gives you confidence in the whole procedure, I imagine,” Jaime said dryly.
“I still don’t get it,” Dayna said, resting her chin on her hand, elbow on the table. “In order to use that spell, you’ll have to trigger it from here. This world. You know, the one without magic.”
“I was told,” Carey said, his dry voice showing his full awareness of the situation, “that the spell still has some connection to my own world.”
Jaime looked at him for a moment, and then rested her gaze on Jess, who sat wide-eyed, beginning at last to understand some of the aspects of her situation. “And if you’re wrong?” she asked finally.
He looked at her, facing both Jaime and the circumstances squarely. “Then I live the rest of my life here. Lady stays as she is. And Arlen assigns another courier to the same job, and tries again.”
“Does he know we’re here?” Jess, finally, began to take an active part in the conversation. “Will he look for us? Will he come for us, and give me back my running, the wind in my face?” She held her hands before her, regarding them with something akin to scorn. “These are not sturdy enough. My face is flat and I have no whiskers.”
Eric moved around to face her, taking up her hands and enfolding them in his. “Your hands are elegant, Jess, and so is your poor flat face. Jaime’s horses will take you on wonderful runs—and you will learn to find the beauty that’s still inside you. What about the Jess that speaks, and cries, and plays soccer—do you want to lose her?”
Jess gave a humph. But she let him keep her hands.
Behind him, Carey shook his head. “She is what she is, Eric. That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. Essentially, Lady will always be a horse. Magic can change form, but not essence.”
“This means if you want the recall spell, you’ll have to deal with Derrick again.”
Jaime shook her head, a grim gesture.
The edge of Carey’s mouth quirked into a wry grin. “That shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange. I’m sure he’s still looking for me.”
“How reassuring.” Jaime tucked back dark strands of hair that had escaped her French braid and said, “Look. I’ve got my own life here. I’m heading into a busy show season, one I can’t afford to screw up.” She looked up from the thumbnail she’d been contemplating and caught Carey’s carefully expressionless face, while Jess made no effort to hide her anxiety. “Relax, you two. I’m just saying that my life’s got to go on. I can’t arrange it around you while you figure this out. On the other hand, Jess is a real help around the place and I could use her at some of the shows I’ve got scheduled. So if you don’t mind paying for your own groceries, you can stay on for a while.”
Carey sat stiffly, his face giving away nothing of his thoughts. After a moment Jaime’s expression closed up, too, leaving only the confused hurt of the apparent rejection of her offer.
Carey took belated notice. “No,” he said. “It’s not...it’s...” He took a deep breath, blew it out hard. “I’m not sure you realize the danger,” he said. “Derrick is ruthless and he’s already found contacts with his seamy counterparts here. If—when—he finds me, he won’t hesitate to do whatever he has to, to get his hands on that document.”
“He can’t be any worse than some of the people already here.” Jaime sat back watched him, arms crossed, until he nodded a succinct acceptance of her offer.
And Jess thought her head would explode if she tried to think about all these new things for one more minute. “I’m hungry,” she announced boldly, and Carey laughed affectionately.
“That’s my Lady,” he said.
~~~~~
The rest of the evening, Jaime thought—in direct contrast with conversation about magic, wizards, and alternate worlds—had been incredibly mundane. She stared down the barn aisle from within the arena, watching Jess go about the morning cleaning. Carey still slept; after the adrenaline of escape had faded, so had he, and he’d done it in a big way. She wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for days.
Sabre walked up behind her and pushed her shoulders with his nose. He knew the routine: a few days before a show, she turned her competition horses into the arena and free-longed them; twice a day, enough to get the kinks out and keep them fresh. But it wasn’t any fun, he seemed to say as he nudged her again, unless she played too.
“All right, big guy,” she murmured, shoving him away and raising the longe whip to a more attentive position. “Move out, then.” With faked annoyance, he shook his head, lay his ears back, and struck out into a reaching trot. After ten minutes of it, he was ready for a good roll, and she left him to himself, tucking the longe whip behind the arena kick boards.
Jess waited for her by the arena/aisle gate, the mounded wheelbarrow behind her. She seemed lost in thought, and didn’t take her gaze from Sabre until Jaime was at the gate.
“You don’t look happy,” Jaime observed. “Especially considering we finally found Carey.”
Jess shrugged, one of the gestures she’d completely incorporated into her new persona. She looked down at herself, and then at Sabre. “I am not me,” she said, with the look that meant she didn’t think she’d be understood. “Carey is Carey, but I’m....?” Another shrug.
“You’re Jess,” Jaime said. “And Jess isn’t someone who’s ever had to deal with Carey before.”
“Yes,” Jess said with a small sigh.
“Forget it,” Jaime said. “Just go on being Jess. Finish Reading For Tomorrow, keep working with the horses, and go on learning about the things you do or don’t like. Carey’s got a lot of decisions to make, and he’s probably not worrying about what you’re up to.”
Jess looked at Sabre again, and this time brightened a little. “First show this weekend,” she observed. “You still want me to come?”
“You’d better believe it,” Jaime said emphatically. “I need someone who takes care of the horses without constant direction, and you can do that.”
Jess nodded and turned back to the wheelbarrow, balancing a bigger load of old bedding and manure than Jaime had ever dared. The conversation, Jaime felt, had not entirely appeased the young woman’s worries. She needed what Jaime herself needed: distraction. She glanced at her watch. She had a lesson scheduled in fifteen minutes, but beyond that, and the chores of packing the show trunk and horse trailer, her day was dismally short of distractions. “Jess,�
� she called, as Jess and wheelbarrow were about to disappear out the open double doors, “Would you like to try riding today?”
It was an impulsive suggestion, and an activity Jess had never shown any interest in—but perhaps Jess was equally aware of the need to be doing. “Yes,” she said simply, and pushed the wheelbarrow out of sight.
~~~~~
Fifteen minutes into Jess’s lesson, Jaime found herself convinced—the whole idea was her biggest mistake in recent memory. Ever, maybe.
Looking the perfect equestrian in a pair of Mark’s breeches and snugged into his expensive but seldom-used riding boots, Jess had walked into the arena like an instructor’s dream: long-legged, straight-backed and leanly athletic. And the illusion had shattered the moment she settled into the saddle.
Somehow, Jaime had expected Jess’s intimate knowledge of horses to translate into the reactions of a good rider. Thank goodness she’d put Jess up on her most trustworthy mount anyway. Sunny wandered amiably around the outside track of the arena while Jess sat, stiff and awkward, her hands clenched on reins that hung uselessly along the gelding’s neck.
“Whose idea was this?”
Carey. Jaime glanced at him, confirming what she’d thought she’d heard in his voice: the faintest tinge of derision. “Mine,” she said calmly, returning her full attention to Jess. “Jess, just relax. You know Sunny’s a great beginner’s horse; he knows what he’s doing.”
“What did you think, that she would be a natural, just because she’s a horse herself?” Since that was exactly what Jaime had figured, she bit back the angry denial she wished she could snap at him. What was he doing out of bed, anyway? He looked...fragile, and not ready to face the world. “I had no idea she’d be so frightened,” she allowed, taking his appearance into account as she moderated her voice. “Since you seem to know more about it, maybe you have some suggestions that’ll help.”
Carey shrugged, grimaced, and rubbed his sore arm. “I never would have put her up there,” he said. “Not unless she asked me too.”
“It didn’t take any convincing,” Jaime said sourly, not sure how much longer she would be able to take his attitude. “Jess, come on down to this end. We’ll put you on a longe line—that way you won’t have to worry about guiding him. All you’ll have to do for now is sit on him.”
But the change brought little improvement; instead, Jaime felt that Carey’s presence was making Jess more nervous. She sat so stiffly that Sunny, feeling her unmoving seat bones, began to offer halts, trying to respond to her apparent signals. Finally Jaime said, “Jess, you’re not happy with this, are you?”
Jess mutely shook her head, though it was obvious she didn’t want to admit her feelings.
“Are you frightened of him?”
“Of Sunny?” Jess blurted in surprise.
“No,” Jaime smiled. “I see not. Give me a clue, kiddo—we’re going nowhere here.”
“If I do the wrong thing,” Jess said hesitantly, staring down at the reins in her hands, “then it hurts him.”
Ah. Jaime glanced at Carey to see if he’d lit on Jess’s meaning as clearly as she. He had indeed lifted his chin from where it had rested on his fist atop the gate. “Okay,” she told Jess. “I think we can work on that. First of all, I want you to know that as long as you’re just sitting up there, moving with him while he walks around in this circle, you’re not going to hurt him. Don’t worry about what you might be doing tomorrow, or next week, or even ten minutes from now.”
Jess eyed her uncertainly, but her fisted hands seemed to relax a little.
“What about it, Carey?” Jaime asked, taking him by surprise. “You ever put a beginner up on Dun Lady’s Jess?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “She’s not that kind of horse. You’ve got to be a thinking rider with her.”
“Anybody else but you ride her at all?” Jaime persisted—even though the realistic little voice in her head insisted the whole conversation was absurd.
“Sure,” he said. “Arlen’s always having to contend with people who’re politicking him—and every once in a while it suits him to humor them. Since he’s got a reputation for one of the best courier fleets in the region, the horses get attention, too.” He nodded at Jess. “Lady’s a pretty mare, elegant...a little more compact than you might think from what you see of her. Quick, though. She tends to catch the eye. Sometimes they ask to ride her. Sometimes I let them.”
It was, Jaime thought, an awful long answer to her question. The answer of a man trying to justify himself. Jess, though, was now paying him more attention than she gave Sunny. “They asked for me?” she questioned. “Me? They thought I was a good horse?”
“Thought?” Carey snorted. “You are a good horse, Lady.”
The turn of the conversation was...far from what she had been looking for. Uneasily, Jaime said, “I just wondered if she could relate to having a rider who was stiff and tense.”
Carey shrugged. At first she thought he wasn’t even going to make the effort to search his memory, but then his know-it-all attitude fell away, victim to a pleasant grin. “Hey, Lady, you remember that wizard’s son, the one who couldn’t even spell a night glow?” At her blank expression he realized, “No, you wouldn’t remember that part. Tall, skinny guy, walked like he had a pike stuck up his ass. Sat that way in the saddle, too.”
Jess perked up, forgetting her fears and twisting in the saddle so she could see him as she traveled the circle. “I stepped on his foot!” she recalled with just a little too much enthusiasm; Jaime saw her quick double check to see if Carey had noticed the slip.
“You sure did,” he agreed, letting it pass if he had.
Jess laughed. “He sat with his feet stuck out like this,” she continued, locking her knees and pointing her toes east and west. “He was awful!” Looking down at herself, she laughed again.
Carey’s grin broadened; it was hard hear Jess’s laughter and not smile. “He was awful.”
Jaime smiled for a different reason. Jess, absorbed in amusement, had relaxed. Sunny sighed a huge sigh, one Jess could not fail to feel through the saddle, and now softly chewed the bit, a contented little gesture. And Jess looked down at him, and then over to Jaime, as understanding dawned.
“I was riding like that man,” she said. “With a pike up my ass. And now I’m not, and Sunny likes it much better.”
“Didn’t you?” Jaime asked mildly.
She nodded, and then, with a sly smile, asked, “Do you think Sunny will try to step on my foot?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Seven
Carey sat on a low stool by the arena aisle gate, absently kneading his healing arm as he watched one of Jaime’s advanced students longeing a lesson horse. The critical nature of his gaze came more from Jaime’s refusal of his own offer to exercise the horses while she was gone than to any slight errors he might have seen in the student’s effort. Cathy, her name was, and she seemed to know her way around Jaime’s barn pretty well.
The Dancing was a beautiful set-up, Carey had to admit. When it came right down to it, he almost admired Jaime’s firm but pleasant refusal of his riding services. She’d pointed out that she’d never seen him ride and she didn’t want to fool with it one day before her departure. It was his pride that growled at her response, not his common sense.
But his lingering reaction tangled in something else, too—his strong and even fearful conviction that this small group of friends had no concept of what they had taken on—not when it came to Derrick, or to magic in general. Petite Dayna wasn’t even thoroughly convinced that Lady was a horse. Was still a horse, and not what Jaime seemed to think—once a horse and now human. Association with Arlen had taught Carey that not even magic could change a creature’s essential nature.
He nodded to Cathy as she passed by, leading in the horse to exchange it with another. The clothing on this world was certainly something to get used to. Despite a certain level of sophistication lent to it by mage-technology, Ca
molen had not yet discovered the stretch fabrics which changed bodies from vague shapes under loosely tailored clothing to distinct shapes and movements. He’d had to work hard at nonchalance two days earlier when he’d found Lady wearing those breeches for her first ride. Part of Lady’s essential nature was her beauty—and that certainly hadn’t changed, not even if she was more exotic than conventional.
He caught himself wondering how she was doing at the horse show.
Behind him, a horse paced briefly in its stall and squealed. JayDee. In heat, and announcing it to the world, hoping she could get somebody interested. Just like Lady when she—
Carey gave an internal shudder and cut the thought short—or tried to. He and Jaime had had a short and somewhat awkward conversation in which Jaime mentioned that Jess the woman was not dealing with any kind of monthly cycle, and did he suppose she would stick to her equine cycles? Probably. Thank goodness spring had passed with no sign of such an event, for Lady in heat was a...was a...
Was less than demure.
Stop it! She’s not human! No little wonder he couldn’t get his thoughts aimed in the right direction; as long as he sat here looking at horses, how could he expect himself to ponder anything else? Back to the house, he decided, rising and shoving the stool against the wall. He ducked under the cross-ties, gave the horse there an absent pat, and murmured a reply to Cathy’s, “See ya,” wondering why everyone in this place seemed to use that phrase, regardless of the chance that it might happen.
In the house he found Mark, with whom he’d had little contact so far but whom he judged to be amiable enough. Mark was in the final stages of preparing the boxed ingredients of what he called macaroni and cheese; he looked up from the stove and said, “You want some?”
It smelled good enough. “Sure,” Carey allowed. Food in boxes. Hard to figure. But he wasn’t spending a lot of effort to get used to this world, despite the purchase of new clothes and his now much shorter hair. He hoped he wouldn’t be here long enough to make familiarity a necessity.
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