Page 16 of Power of Five
11
Leralynn
There is a set of beautifully made leather-reinforced riding breeches waiting for me outside the door when I wake up the following morning, together with a soft tunic, a pair of fine hard-heeled boots, and an ill-humored Coal. Wearing his usual black in contrast to his blond hair, Coal leans against the wall, his legs crossed one over the other as he studies me with slightly hooded eyes. He looks fresh and alert—and breathtakingly gorgeous. Damn him.
“Who do I have to thank for the clothes?” I ask, running my hands down the supple brown leather. One of the males must have taken my measurements and spent a small fortune to acquire the pieces on short notice. I’ve never owned anything this fine before, and a small part of me is appalled at the thought of getting the fabric dirty.
Coal shrugs one rock-hard shoulder in a “don’t know, don’t care” gesture. “River wants to sweep the area for more sclices, so we are staying put for the day. I wanted to see whether we’d need a cart for when we do move out.”
“A cart?” I raise a brow. “For what?”
“For you.” Coal picks at his nails. “You ride like a sack of grain, so we might as well transport you like one.”
“Are you being an ass on purpose,” I croon, “or are you always this delightful in the morning?”
Coal growls softly, showing his canines. Of the four males, I think Coal is the most immediately deadly, the one willing to inflict—and take—more damage than the others. “Do you want me to teach you to ride or not?”
My eyes widen even as my chest tightens in excitement. After yesterday’s disaster, I imagined the males wouldn’t let me near a horse, much less offer to help.I cross my arms. The offer, like the clothes, smells too good to be true. “Shouldn’t you be off chasing sclices?” I ask, stepping behind my door to pull on the pants and boots. “Killing slobbery monsters seems more in line with your preferences than teaching a mortal how not to topple from a horse.”
“We pulled straws and I lost,” says Coal.
I step back into the hall. “Liar.”
Coal holds up four fingers, bending them back one at a time as he speaks. “Shade spooks any horse he goes near, River’s in charge and gets first dibs on the good stuff, and Tye... Tye is Tye.”
“What does that mean?” I raise a brow.
Coal snorts. “It means that it will snow in midsummer before any of us leave Tye alone with a female and expect anything vertical to take place.”
My face heats and I brush past Coal toward the staircase, jogging lightly down its rickety steps. The scent of coffee and fresh bread tempts me as I rush past the kitchen, but with Coal as finicky as a bloody bride, I’m not about to jeopardize my chance at learning to ride for the sake of breakfast. It’s been a while since anyone taught me anything, Zake’s belt-driven lessons on punctuality and work ethic notwithstanding. Mimi teaching me to read when I was younger comes to mind, though it did me little good for lack of books. I swallow, common sense dampening foolish enthusiasm. I’ll take what Coal offers, but I’ll expect there to be a price. There always is.
The stable boy is already holding a saddled horse when we walk out to the barn. Not Czar, I note with disappointment, but a dapple gelding whose brown eyes evaluate me suspiciously. Beyond the stalls, a freshly cleaned paddock stands with an open gate. Taking the gelding’s reins, I thank the boy and watch him race away from Coal as quickly as if he’d just filched a roll. With our audience thus gone, I lift my arm to pat the horse’s neck and feel a jolt of pain from the fall. Shade set the shoulder, but the muscles are tight and sore. My stomach shifts, the memory of the wild gallop, the hard ground, the jolting pain suddenly all too vivid.
“I can smell your fear, you know,” Coal says lazily behind me. “The horse can too.”
“Do you want me to bathe?” I ask over my shoulder.
Coal chuckles, the resulting dimple on his cheek transforming his face from handsome to downright unfair. His eyes are more sky blue than stormy ocean today, and I wonder whether it means something. It must, because a bit of my fear melts away.Today is different,my mind whispers.Today, you are not alone.
Taking the horse from me, Coal holds the gelding under the chin. “Mount up,” he orders.
Right. With the mounting block I used yesterday nowhere in sight, I raise my right foot, only to discover the stirrup much higher than I imagined and hop about until I finally manage to stick my toe into the little wooden box. At which point a new problem emerges: The only way I can mount now would have me facing the horse’s rump.
Coal raises a brow at me.
“You could have told me I was starting with the wrong foot before I got here,” I tell him, removing my right foot from its hard-won hold and replacing it with my left. This time, when my toes find the stirrup, the bloody horse takes one step to the side, rendering all my efforts in vain. I finally manage to haul myself into the saddle, only to nearly fall over the other side when the horse shifts his weight. My breath catches. “I’m all right,” I tell Coal once I can breathe again. “In case that matters.”
“It really doesn’t,” says Coal. Liar. I can see him already reconsidering the wisdom of allowing me on horseback. Clipping the end of a long, coiled rope to the horse’s headstall, Coal clicks his tongue and the animal obediently starts moving in a circle around him.
I grip onto the mane. “Wait. Don’t you want to tell me how to control him first? Where are the reins?”
“You don’t get reins,” Coal calls out to me. He clicks his tongue and the horse turns into an earthquake. “I control the horse. You stay on.”
I don’t stay on.
I fall. Over and over and over again, until my eyes water and sand from the paddock works itself into every crevice of my clothing. It isn’t fun or exciting or anything I expected it to be.
Told you as much,a dark part of my mind cackles, even as Coal issues more orders.
