Page 32 of The Wicked Lies of Habren Faire
Neirin lifts the horn to his lips and blows, and a strident blast sounds through the early morning. The moment the sound ends, the horn turns to dust that dances around us like dandelion seeds. I reach for them as I wait for approaching hooves, feeling Neirin’s eyes on me all the while.
“You have magic in your hair,” he tells me.
I touch a pale curl absentmindedly and sparks of gold leap from it. “Is that bad?”
“No,” he replies, before his eyes dart up the path. “Behold, your horse.”
I watch in open-mouthed awe as its body, legs and tail form from the same golden specks of magic but, unlike the horn, the creature never quite becomes solid, never manages to look entirely real. But it stands there, the largest horse I’ve ever seen, muscled and impatient as any stallion back home.
“No visit from Matilda?” Neirin asks it.
Matilda is busy hunting, says the stallion.Lots of things need killing at the moment.
I start and almost collide with Neirin. The horse’s mouth doesn’t move; his voice just fills the air around us, echoing from every direction. He sounds like a pub landlord. Warm and gruff, and not to be trifled with. It should make the whole thing even stranger but, somehow, it’s exactly how a great big horse like this is supposed to talk.
Neirin makes a hum of assent as he deftly swings himself up onto the horse’s back. “She’s up north, I take it?”
Why do you need to know where my mistress is?The horse looks at me as I take a tentative step closer, pausing beside its massive neck.
“I’m merely making conversation.” Neirin gestures to me. “Look, you’re scaring my new friend.”
The horse’s head swings around to look at me and I flinch back,though I don’t want to. I want to be brave and bold, but everything in Eu gwlad is so bizarre, so much stronger than me. The talking horse is only the beginning of the strangeness. I can’t imagine what’s to come.
Forgive me, lady, I must be firm with his lot. The horse’s ears twitch back toward Neirin.My mistress is allied with their king and His Majesty is a paranoid creature.
I nod. “I’d be paranoid too if I had to deal with him regularly.”
Neirin leans over, his head mere inches from mine. “What was that, Habren Faire?”
I crane my neck up to meet his eyes, our noses near touching. “Just a reminder that I trust you about as far as I can throw you.”
“You can’t throw me. I’m much stronger than you.”
I stare at him blankly. “Yes, Neirin, that’s the point.”
“Ah.” He nods sagely and sits up straight.
The horse puffs air out through his nostrils.I have many other places to be where I don’t have to listen to children squabbling.
Neirin offers a slender hand. I reluctantly place my hand in his, and though I try to be light and ladylike, I squeeze his fingers tight. He grasps me back firmly, his hold warm and certain. I pull myself up onto the horse and swing my legs over on each side. I’ve ended up sitting in front of Neirin.
His thighs bracket my hips, too close for me to ignore the press of him against me—especially when he reaches around to pat the horse’s neck. My nightgown rides up awkwardly to reveal the frilled cuffs of my bloomers just below my knees and, no matter how much fidgeting I do with it and my coat, I can’t hide them. My cheeks burn as his chest presses steadily against my back. I stay rigidly upright. Refuse to lean into the touch, refuse to acknowledge how solid and comforting his grip his, and how much I like it when his chin rests atop the crown of my head for a moment.
“Now,” he says, “don’t feel bad if you faint. Happens to the best of us.”
My blood goes cold and, before I can even turn around and hurl a heartfelt “What?” at him, the horse shoots off into the dawn like a bullet from a gun.
12
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(THE CHAMPION)
The horse disappears from beneath me and I tumble to the ground in a pathetic heap while Neirin hovers for a second, his coat floating around him like wings, then delicately lands on his toes. Bright colors bloom behind my eyes and I do far worse than faint—I vomit, only narrowly missing my own hands as I double over on the floor.
“Is that always going to be so horrible?” I gasp.
The entire journey couldn’t have taken more than a moment, but I felt every inch as the forest whipped around us, blurring into a mass of green, grasping hands reaching out from the trees. Neirin swatted them away.
