Chapter 6

Chapter 6

   Zane was almost asleep. Well, as asleep as someone who was tied in what has got to be the most uncomfortable position ever thought up could be. He wondered if his shoulders would ever be able to pop back into place.

   He was just about to slip into a dream-he could feel it-when someone shoved him so that he and the woman at his back toppled over. He opened his eyes to see the grimy cement two inches away and breathed out a long sigh through his nose.

   He just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask?

   Someone kneeled next to him on one knee and lifted him halfway off the ground by his face. Zane blinked blearily at the person, taking in the unfamiliar features of a soldier dressed in ebony colours. His eyes were almost as dark as his uniform, and Zane found them intriguing.

   He felt another person at his back, messing with the chains linking him to the whimpering lady, and the guy in front of him pulled off his gag.

   Zane didn’t even hesitate.

   “Is kicking people in season or something? I missed the memo, didn’t I?”

   Dark-eyes didn’t respond. Zane actually wondered if he’d even heard him.

   Another silent moment and Zane fell forward as the chains holding him up were released. Dark-eyes didn’t catch him as he splattered onto the floor.

   “You’re letting me go?” he asked as he pushed himself up, “It’s about time you realized I was an innocent, harmless, helpless-Fffff…Ow!”

   The person behind him gripped his elbows and strained his arms into a very, very painful position; Zane bit down on his lip to distract himself from the-

   “OW! Do you people have no idea how to be gentle? Gentle.” He stretched out the last word to try and make his point.

   The soldier holding him stood, dragging the blonde kid up with him. Zane grit his teeth, glaring out the corner of his eye in an attempt to see the one forcing him around.

   Dark-eyes got to his feet as well, watching Zane carefully as though he might use some kind of magic in an attempt to escape.

   And he would have if he didn’t understand how useless it would be. These people-whoever they were-would be idiots if they thought they could keep a bunch of mages (from Madyik, no less) imprisoned without some magic of their own. Besides, someone else had already used a very complicated spell to escape his bonds, but the moment he finished with the magic, he blew up.

   Just blew up.

   The person he was tied to died with him, along with some other prisoners nearby. Zane wasn’t sure if a backlash spell had been cast on the place or if someone skilled in magic had been keeping watch.

   He didn’t really want to find out though.

   “Where do we take him?” the guy behind Zane questioned, yanking him back a step.

   “To the dungeon,” muttered another voice, and Zane was displeased to see Sir watching the whole thing. He looked kind of like he would be chowing down on popcorn to enjoy the show if he could.

   “Oh yay! A dungeon! How classic. Nice choice, I think.” Zane tilted his head to better see Sir’s angered expression; he liked teasing the oh-so-important soldier.

   “He’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” the guy squeezing his arms muttered, “It it really okay to let him talk?”

   “Boss asked specifically for it. Apparently Brahn likes to hear the screams,” Sir replied, seeming too happy with the fact the teen would be screaming.

   “Ooh, I’m going to get to meet Boss? I’ve been meaning to thank him for giving me immunity. You know, because no one here is allowed to kill me? I’s kind of him, really it is.” Zane began to picture what this great “Boss” would look like. Maybe a huge guy, bulging with muscles and eyes glowing red. Or maybe he’d be like the anticlimactic character that was humorously short (Even shorter than Zane) and had a high-pitched voice.

   Dark-eyes snorted at that, and Zane stuck out his tongue at him.

   “This kid’s a riot,” the soldier behind him commented, “How about the woman? What do we do with her?”

   Zane let his eyes travel to the sobbing girl he’d been tied to the last three days and grimaced. She looked horrible, even from this distance and in the dark. As she slowly inched backwards and away from him, he could see how bloodshot her eyes were and how dark the bags under them had become.

   “She’s useless. We did the background check, and she has no relations to it,” Sir muttered, walking over to her.

   “Wrong place at the wrong time.” The guy holding the blonde actually sounded a little sad at that, like he really thought it was a shame.

   Zane began to wonder how many of the soldiers there actually liked this plan. Whatever this plan was. There had to be a plan; every bad guy had a plan.

   “Kill her.” The two words echoed around the silent room of watching hostages, and she made a horrible noise as Sir pulled her head back with her hair.

   “Uh, you should treat young mistresses with more respect,” Zane called over to him as Sir gestured to dark-eyes, who slid a giant sword out from its sheath beneath the gun at his back.

   The woman shrieked against the gag around her mouth and struggled at the chains still wrapped around her. More tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as dark-eyes stepped forward to silently press the edge of his blade to her exposed throat.

   “Really, you people don’t know how to treat your guests, do you?” Zane murmured, not caring in the least about how much desperation was showing itself in his voice.

   He tried to pull free of his holder, but the soldier just shifted bother of Zane’s wrists into one hand and wrapped a thick arm around his shoulders to hold him in place.

   The woman choked on a strangled sob as the sharp sword cause a line of garnet to drip down her skin. Dark-eyes hesitated.

   “Kill her,” Sir ordered, yanking her head back again.

   Zane’s stomach felt like someone was smashing and twisting it around, and he felt light-headed, nauseated. He squeezed his eyes shut, too sick for words as blood splashed onto the floor.

   Blood. Do not like blood.

   And they were dragging him back, uncaring as he stumbled and tripped along with his eyes closed.

   “Boss will be waiting, so be quick about it,” Sir called after them.

   When Zane felt safe with looking around, he was happy there wasn’t a pool of red, but he wasn’t happy that they were headed to a steep, rugged staircase made from stone.

   “Why’d you do that?” he asked, righting himself so that he was facing forward. Dark-eyes gripped her upper arm as they began descending.

   “It was necessary,” the soldier who was still behind him answered, and the whole way down, he occasionally stepped on the backs of Zane’s shoes “by accident”.

   “Really? Really?” Zane squinted into the sudden darkness as his feet met an even surface. That was quick. Not much of a dungeon, was it?

   “Yes, really.”

   Dark-eyes, still silent, reached forward with his free hand and swung open a huge, iron door to reveal a dimly lit room. He pulled Zane across it and threw him at the far wall. Zane caught himself against the rough surface, spun to frown disapprovingly at him, and dark-eyes grabbed his arm. He pulled a chain that was bolted into the wall down and snapped it around his wrist; he did the same to the other arm.

   “How am I supposed to sit? My legs are going to get tired,” Zane complained as dark-eyes went to chain his ankles as well, “How am I supposed to sleep? There’s not even a slight shimmer of hope, not a ghost of a chance that I’ll be able to drift off while-“

   “This is the one?” said a low voice, and Zane jumped. Sort of. He was chained to a wall, so he didn’t move very much.

   “If ‘the one’ is me, then yep,” Zane sighed, turning his head to see a guy with sandy-hair and an ordinary face approaching.

   “He’s not much.”

   “How rude.”

   “Brahn, he’s all yours. I have important business to attend to,” the guy murmured, frowning at Zane.

   “Are you trying to say I’m not important? How insulting.”

   “’How rude’? ‘How insulting’? What era do you think you’re in?”

   “The era in which innocent yet strangely attractive Zanes are kidnapped and taken into a sad excuse for a dungeon.”

   The guy gaped at him for a few heartbeats before snorting and turning away.

   “Have fun with that, Brahn,” he muttered and pointed at the soldier who had been twisting Zane’s arms into an attempt at a pretzel. “You, come with me. I have a job for you.”

   “Yes, Boss,” the soldier responded with a salute and followed after him as he headed to the door.

   “Whoa, wait! Boss? You’re Boss? You’re so… boring,” Zane said, appalled, and Boss gave him a weird look. Without answering, he exited, shaking his head.

   “Bye! Have a nice day!” Zane shouted after them just before the door slammed closed with an ominous thud.

   “Well, well, well,” someone whispered, and a too-skinny guy pretty much materialized from the shadowed corner of the room, “What do we have here?”

 

----

 

   Most sane people wouldn’t head off into the middle of nowhere with a couple strangers after getting torn up in a car accident. Not to mention with strangers who practically kidnapped them and held them hostage inside the smallest house known to mage-kind. And again, not to mention that neither of the guys are even mages.

   Sometimes I wonder why Life hates me so much, this being a perfect example of one of those times.

   Because I must be insane. I mean, here I am, lying on this grass that’s making me all itchy in the middle of nowhere with two guys who are strangers to me. Strange strangers.

   The first thing Jace did after we stopped to treat everything that’s bleeding (which is a lot, and it is way overdo) is pull out his laptop. I don’t even think he can get internet out here, but there he is, the blue light of it shining it on his face.

   I dodge his eyes as he glances over and frown at Demitri. Is he…? He is. He’s snoring. I somehow never pictured him doing something like snoring. Apparently even emotionless humanoids can have breathing problems.

   I sigh and move my head so that I can watch the dim light of the stars between the leaves I’m under. The fat trunk of the oak is behind Jace, his back slumped against it, not too far away. He’s supposed to be keeping watch (even though I’m not really sure what our plan of action would be to escape vehicles that can speed by at a thousand times our pace), but he’s not doing a very good job of it.

   Just like when he was “watching” me to make sure I didn’t try to run off during my time at Demitri’s. Maybe I’ll just volunteer to sit up all night and squint into the dark next time. Jace sucks at it, and I’m not sleeping anyway. I mean, I’m tired. More than tired. But if I fall asleep, I’ll dream…

   Wait, what am I saying? Me, keep watch? Like we’re just a big, happy family that knows older brother can’t do his job right, so I’ll just cover for him?

   I roll over so that I’m facing away from “older brother” and bite my lip against the shot of agony that races up my torn-up arm. No amount of wrapping can keep me from experiencing the torturous pain of the slit. The only good thing about it is that it distracts me from all the tiny cuts that cover my arms and legs. I wonder briefly if there are still some glass bits inside me.

   I’m too busy wincing at the thought of crystal-like material being washed away in a shower to notice the soft footfalls approaching me, and when Jace touches my side to get my attention, my heart about gives out. I try to figure out how to breathe again while he starts typing, a wry grin on his face.

   Sorry.

   I flop back onto the ground with a groan and squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe he’ll just go away.

   He prods at me, attempting to get me to look and see what he typed out, and I swat him away. He catches my hand though and turns it almost painfully; I make a growling sort of sound, surprising myself.

   I try to take back my limb while the bandage around it is tugged loose and cast aside, but he holds me with a vice-like grip. Something damp touches my split skin, and my eyelids shoot up in shock. What is he-He’s licking me. He obviously doesn’t have any modesty or personal space realization because that’s more than weird. It’s kind of gross.

   His tongue pulls across the wound and leaves behind new skin, like the too-deep trench in my arm in months old. I watch, transfixed with something like disgust, until he finishes. Then I yank my arm away a go to wipe it off, but I’m at a loss for what to dry it on.

   “Why?” I say instead, and he holds a finger to his mouth, nodding toward Demitri. “That’s…” I can’t find the right word, a word that can accurately describe just how messed up it was.

   He types while the computer is still halfway facing me, and my eyes dance along what he wrote before being a creep.

   Would you like me to heal your arm?

   That’s what I get for ignoring him. Ha, ha, Fate. You’re funny. Really.

   It seemed to be bothering you, and that’s no surprise. Colette, if that had been infected…

   He doesn’t finish, but I guess he doesn’t need to. I can get at what he’s trying to say no matter how wasted the words would be on me.

   A wicked look crosses his face, and I watch his screen in apprehension.

   What about all the other cuts? Are they bothering you?

   I swing a half-hearted punch at him, caving to the desire I’ve been having since I met him to hit him across the jaw. It doesn’t hurt him-I bet he didn’t even feel anything-and he opens his mouth as if to laugh.

   I groan and flop back into the grass, craning my neck to read his words.

   Did you just punch me?

   “I tried.”

   Well, your fist hit my face.

   “Did it hurt?” I raise an eyebrow.

   …Well, no. You still swung at me though.

   “It’s only worth it if it hurt.”

   He does that smile that only pulls up the corner of his mouth.

   I see. Haven’t you ever punched someone before?

   “Uh…”

   Good. You shouldn’t use violence to solve your problems.

   I give him a disbelieving look, and he sets down his laptop. He stretches out on his stomach, still in reach of the keyboard.

   I guess it’s necessary, though. Sometimes.

   “Uhuh.” I sit up and wrap my arms around my knees.

   Here, let me show you.

   He holds out a hand, leaving me the choice to take it.

   “Are you going to do something weird again?” When he shakes his head, I sigh and let him gently grab my wrist.

   He folds down my fingers, from my pinkie to my index in order. He takes my thumb last and wraps it in front of the other digits. He reaches as far as he can while lying and pokes my elbow.

   Keep it close to your body.

   He moves my fist forward, holding my wrist to keep it straight and letting the knuckle between my pointer and middle finger touch his cheek.

   Hit fast, but leave the punch extended so the impact goes into your target and not you.

   We sit still like that for a moment, and he looks like he’s considering telling me more until he drops my arm.

   “So now I can punch you and have it do some damage?” I ask, and he rolls his eyes.

   Sure, but you should know I can do a lot more than punching-as far as self-defense.

   “You just know self-defense? You can’t fight back?”

   He thinks.

   I’ve never bothered with learning how to fist fight. As long as I have a few daggers and a sword, I think I’ll be just fine.

   “Then you do know more than self-defense.”

   Well… Yes.

   “I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but a few daggers and a sword won’t do much against guns.” I huff out a breath and fall back onto the ground. “Neither will a fist… Never the less mine.”

   He looks at me for a moment, like he’s pondering about something.

   Well, then don’t use your fist. From what I’ve seen, you can handle yourself just fine without it.

   I shake my head. “You mean the shield? That’s about the only thing I can do.”

   I don’t mean the shield, but that was pretty impressive too.

   “Then what do you mean?” I close my eyes, feeling too tired for my own good.

   I hear his fingers on the keyboard, but I never get to see what he typed because sleep whisks me away before I can force my eyes open again.

 

----

 

   You know what I’ve decided?

   Walking sucks.

   I’m certain anyone with any bit of common sense would agree, especially after strolling through an endless field of nothing.

   Nothing but grass, weeds, and a tree every two hours.

   Under the sun. A whole day.

   “Isn’t there a more efficient way to get there?” I mutter, more to myself than the other two.

   “There are many.” Demitri doesn’t look over when he speaks.

   “But we’re walking instead?” I can’t help the bitterness in my voice. My throbbing feet are talking for me.

   “Yes.”

   “Why?”

   “We have no way to utilize any other options.”

   “Of course we don’t,” I sigh, lifting a hand to shield my eyes. I’m starting to formulate the opinion that miles of overgrown weeds suck.

   “You…do not believe me?” He squints into the distance, like a city will suddenly pop up in front of us.

   “No. Well, yes, I believe you. I’m just annoyed that I have to walk,” I grumble.

   I catch Jace snickering silently and scowl at him.

   “What?”

   He shakes his head and smirks at Demitri, who turns his face toward me.

   “Annoyed,” he repeats.

   “Yeah, I-Oh. Never mind.” I put the toe of my sneaker on the bottom of the plants to fold them over.

   “Annoyed,” Demitri says again.

   “Are you broken?” I hurry forward before the wall of weeds can pop back up and smack me from behind.

   “Annoyed…is what you’re feeling right now?” he continues.

   “Yeah, didn’t I just say that?”

   Jace is biting his lip in a way that looks painful, and I think he’s trying to hide a mocking grin.

   “Annoyed… You feel this because of walking?” Demitri doesn’t notice Jace, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Not that he could anyway…

   Ugh, just trying to explain this guy’s actions is hard because of what he is.

   “Well, yeah,” I sigh, reaching forward to part the prickly things in front of me. “But it’s not the only reason I get annoyed.”

   “What other reasons cause this?” He just strides through the wall of thorns like it’s imaginary and he can’t see it.

   “…Uh, lots of stuff. When people leave bread in the toaster and it gets stale. Or when the people next door are watching a horror movie in the middle of the night. Or-Tsk!” I pull my finger to my chest before holding it out to examine it. With a dark look at it, I yank the huge thorn out with my teeth and spat it on the ground. I suck on the small hole, grimacing at the metallic taste of blood.

   “Or when a plant stabs me,” I add.

   Demitri watches me, and we walk on in silence for a couple minutes.

   “What is… annoyed?”

   “’Annoyed’ is an emotion.”

   “Yes. What does it… feel like?”

   I open my mouth to reply but quickly realize that that’s a very hard question to answer.

   “Uh… like…” Something far away catches my eye, and I stare at it. “Well…like ‘ugh’. Or ‘Come on’.  Like… when you want to bash your head into a desk.”

   Demitri blinks and I can tell he doesn’t get it. “I’ve never needed to bash my head into a desk,” he says.

   I snort. “No, not need…want…” I glance at his face. “Never mind. Annoyed… It feels like… You know when you get a scrape or something, but it’s not serious? It’s just there, not painful enough to be treated by not…pain-less.”

   “Just…there.”

   “Yeah.” Okay, there’s definitely something in the distance that isn’t weeds. I feel a bit of hope flutter in my chest.

   “I see,” Demitri murmurs, “’Annoyed’ is a wound that isn’t inhibiting.”

   Jace exhales loudly from the other side of him, like the conversation is slowly killing him. He shoots away, running like our words might give chase.

   I look after him while I respond. “Yeah, something like that.” I hesitate and add, “You don’t get it, do you?”

   Demitri slides a thorn from his dark shirt and flicks it to the ground. “’Annoyed’ is a faint pain.”

   “Sure, if that way sounds better to you.”

   He nods once.

   “So, where are we going exactly?” I remember him saying something about going south before, and we crossed the river, so… I try to envision the map of discovered lands in my head.

   “To Gayuma.”

   “In the marshes?”

   “Yes. We crossed the border line of territory last night. It is why we stopped. I believed we were safe as long as we were in another territory.”

   “How do you know we’re going the right way?” I grimace at the idea of walking all this way just to turn around and go in a different direction.

   “The sun,” he replies, pointing up at the darkening sky.

   “Oh.” I narrow my eyes, trying to make out what those funny shapes are. They’re a lot closer than they were awhile ago, like they’re coming toward us.

   I’m a little afraid of what they are. Knowing my luck, they’re probably a pack of angry, hungry monsters plotting to eat us all alive.

   “How long until we get there, do you think?” I wonder out loud, feeling a little forlorn at the chance that we could be wandering aimlessly for weeks.

   “Not long-about another day and night if we calculate resting time.”

   “If we calculate? You’re doing the calculations, Demitri,” I mutter, doing a little hop to get over some brambles that are stretched across the ground.

   “Yes,” he says.

   “Good thing you are, because I have no idea what’s going on.”

   “We are heading to Gayuma to escape troops from Munganso who-“

   “No, I know that. I mean…” As Jace comes sprinting at us, waving his arms over his head (he looks ridiculous) I trail off.

   Demitri follows my gaze to him, staring blankly-almost bleakly-at the excited Elf.

   “What is he doing?” I frown, glancing at Demitri out of the corner of my eye.

   “He is running toward us and waving.”

   I groan at this and shout the question at Jace instead. He lets his mouth pull into the biggest, truest smile I’ve ever seen, even when considering Demitri’s younger sister, and moves his hands so fast I’m surprised the guy beside me can keep up.

   “Jace says,” Demitri translates, “that he found something amazing and wants us to hurry.”

   “Something amazing…”

   Jace nods eagerly in response and turns away to take off again, doing a funny side-step every few seconds to see if we’re following.

   “Is that good?” I begin to pick up my pace, breaking into a jog.

   “It may be beneficial,” Demitri answers, matching my quickening steps, “but it may be something only he finds useful.”

   I grin and start running, leaving Demitri behind within five seconds. Dang, he’s slow.

   I’m watching the ground, so I run full force into Jace, who apparently stopped racing forward. He stumbles a couple steps and twists to look at me while I rub my suddenly sore face.

   “Ow… What was-“ I stop speaking so abruptly it hurts. Or maybe that was just my stomach twisting in shock and fear upon seeing a herd of giant, terrifying beasts. One is punching the ground with it long front leg, and another in staring at us with huge, ominous eyes. Just staring.

   I involuntarily take a few steps back. “Wha-“

   “Ah,” Demitri says, coming up beside me, “Horses. They will make travelling easier.”

   “H-horses?” I grimace at the stutter in my word.

   Jace creeps forward slowly, approaching the monster that’s watching us. It seems wary of him, but it doesn’t turn to run-or eat him-when he presses his hand against its muzzle. He looks at us happily.

   “Horses,” I repeat as Demitri heads forward to examine it.

   “How odd,” he notes, “They’re well-cared for… Almost as though they have a caretaker.”

   “Well-cared for?” Who would keep these things around? They’re huge and monstrous. That one over there looks like it’s ready to charge at me and prance around on my remains.

   “If they are accustomed to having riders, perhaps we can take them to Gayuma. The nearest civilization is the city, so it’s logical they came from there anyway,” Demitri says.

   Okay, Colette. Horses. I’ve seen them before… You know, not up close. Or in person, but I’ve read about them, and Zane’s always going on about white stallions and knights or something like that. Sometimes I watch movies with horses, but I’ve never given them much thought.

   That is, until now. It’s hard not to give them thought when one, two, three, four of them are surrounding you like you’re fresh meat.

   “Wait, what?! Ride them?” I gape at Demitri and glance at Jace, expecting him to be giving the Daemn a horrified look. But he’s not.

   Instead, he looks way too excited about the prospect of hopping onto s terrible creature’s back and letting it do the walking for him. A car is one thing, but a horse has a mind of its own… I think.

   “Yes, it is an option we should utilize. Riding them would be much more efficient.”

   Of course it would.

   “They don’t even have, uh, saddles on,” I argue as Jace rounds the horse. As he leaves its line of sight, it trots off and turns to watch him again. He looks at it with a faintly frustrated expression, rubbing the back of his head.

   “It is possible to ride horses without saddles.”

   Jace begins to approach the same horse, determination plain on his face.

   “We’re going to ride them,” I murmur, sucking in a breath.

   “Yes.”

   “I don’t get a say?” I mutter, but he doesn’t hear me. That or he ignores me.

   I try my best to mimic Jace’s actions, inching toward the nearest… horse… with my breath held. It glares at me like it wants to rip me apart, and I stop dead.

   Nope. I don’t like this.

   At all.

 

----

 

   Strangers.

   Alice knelt in the too-tall grass, bare knee imprinted with the pattern of rocks it had been sitting on for too long. Her blond bangs hid half her face even though the majority of her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail.

   A rounded blue eye gazed through the weeds to watch the mismatched trio across the field. They were approaching the horses Alice had been chasing after since early that morning, but only the incredibly tall one looked like he knew what he was doing.

   Alice chanced a quick look over her shoulder down the hill to where her own stallion was loosely tied to one of the few trees that dotted the land as far as she could see. He huffed at her, pawing at the ground impatiently with a hoof. She smiled at him in response, pressing a finger to her lips to quiet him.

   He could wait. There were interesting people nearby, and Alice couldn’t just return without seeing what they were up to. Besides, her mission was to bring back the four horses who’d wandered from their pen. Apparently someone had left the gate open after taking one out for a ride. She couldn’t just return to the stables empty-handed.

   She laughed quietly at the female as she jumped about five feet in the air in terror. The white Arabian she’d approached reared up with a loud whiney and pranced away from her to nibble on a different patch of grass. The girl stared after it with wide eyes, hands clenched at her sides.

   These strangers were fun to watch, Alice decided, inching forward on all fours.

   Just as she’d expected, the giant male was the first to mount one of the horses, wrapping his arms around its neck as it took off at a gallop. As it calmed, he steered it with ease back to the other two, his face leaking with pride. The chestnut he was perched on obeyed him a little too willingly.

   He trotted up to the female and reached down a hand; she blinked at it, then at the horse, then at him. Her mouth opened to tell him something Alice couldn’t hear from her hiding spot, but it was easy enough to tell that she didn’t want to have anything to do with the animals.

   Alice swatted away a dragonfly that had drifted too far away from the swamp and dropped to her stomach. She army-crawled forward, ignoring her stallion’s aggravated growl, and popped up so that her eyes could see over the tops of the dandelion puffs.

   The female was on the horse now, clinging to the male like she was falling off a cliff. Her teeth were clenched against his back, but he didn’t seem to mind.

   Alice blinked, something tickling her memory as she squinted at the female. She was…

   The blonde girl sucked in an intrigued breath, leaning even further forward to stare. For certain! That female wasn’t just any stranger; she was the lhoomikah ym Pagkaaseera!

   Alice closed her gaped mouth and blew out the air she’d sucked in, disturbing the wishing puffs in front of her. As she watched the pales seeds slip away on the wind, she wished the trio would stick around awhile.

   The male guided the horse to the second, darker male and used some sort of language that involved his hands. The dark male responded in the same way, turning as he did to hold out a hand toward another of the animals.

   The tall male and the female began toward the city, and Alice couldn’t help but find that convenient. Less work for her.

   The dark male imitated the tall male so accurately, Alice found it creepy. But even he couldn’t match the talent the tall male had in guiding the horse, in getting it to acknowledge him as its rider. That wasn’t something that could be taught.

   Still, Alice was fascinated by how quickly he learned. She began to scoot forward again, eyes glues to him, but she froze in the next instant.

   He saw her. She was sure of it. The way he met her gaze, like she was waving and shouting to him… There was no way he didn’t.

   He didn’t call out to his friends though, and when he looked away, he didn’t look back. Alice flattened herself to the ground, sucking in her bottom lip as she wondered what to do. He didn’t seem to find her a threat. Maybe she’d imagined him seeing her at all.

   When she peeked out toward them again, they were already small dots on the horizon. She was worrying about nothing.

   Well, now she only had to take two horses home, and that was fine by her. Feeling safe with standing, she headed back to her horse, who whinnied excitedly when she untied him. She swung herself onto him and tapped his flank with her heel. He began forward happily, trotting up to the remaining animals.

   They ignored Alice as she slung a rope around each of them and began to lead them back to Gayuma after the strangers. She hoped they’d still be there when she got back, because this was the most exciting thing that’d happened… ever.

Author's Note

Yeah