Page 42 of Fires of the Forsaken
Becauseof courseI’d blurted my judgmental thought out loud. Stress had stolen whatever control I’d once had over my mouth. “I mean,” I looked between Belanna and Cheriour, “you’re making it sound like the birdsarespeakingto you.”
“Aye.” She raised her eyebrows. “‘Twas the power I was given.”
“T-talking to birds?”
“All animals,” Belanna said. “But ‘tis not as simple as talking, mind.”
As she spoke, a twittering brown sparrow flew down from the trees. It landed on my shoulder, fluffed its wings, gave my earlobe a soft nip, and flew away.
Belanna looked smug as shit.
“Did you—” I stared at the bird’s retreating form. “That was a coincidence, right? You didnottell it to do that. No way.”
“I did.”
“How? You didn’t even say anything!”
“I don’t need to speak. They understand me.”
I swallowed and then thought of the horse-shaped shadow I’d seen—yet again—in the trees that morning. “If you talk—”
“I don’ttalk—”
“Whatever. If youcommunicatewith animals, what about those venomous horses?”
“Ah, the Púcas. Unfortunately, they’re not normal creatures. Rather like hybrids themselves, they are. I can’t communicate with them. But Icancommunicate with that mare.” She pointed at Sacrifice. “Braxton—he’s me brother, by the way—he chose a good horse for ye, didn’t he?”
“If you say so.” As we spoke, my “good horse” swung her ass to the side and tried to kick Cheriour’s mount.
“Ach, she may be a little testy with the other animals…”
“A little?”
“…but she knows her job. And she’s not fussed about having an inexperienced rider. In fact, she thinks ye have a sturdy seat in the saddle—”
“My ass begs to differ…”
“—but she finds yer voice grating. Anyway, Cheriour, I also wanted to tell ye there’s water ahead we’ll need to be crossin’ soon. Ye don’t need to worry,” Belanna told me. “Sacrifice loves playin’ in the water. Ye,” she wagged her finger at Cheriour, “may have some issues. Yer fellow’s not fond of gettin’ his feet wet.” With that, she hummed a cheery tune and rode away.
“She’s a few cards short of a full deck, isn’t she?” I asked Cheriour. “Has that power scrambled her brain?”
He didn’t answer. No surprise.
And the water Belanna mentioned? Yeah, it was a freaking mile-wide river.
The gunky-brown water roared along at the bottom of the bank. Had to be going ten miles an hour. At least. And with those violent white caps…
I gasped when the first horse strolled into the river. Ohhellnaw. What if the current whisked these poor animals away? Could horses swim? And this one had two men on its back: one lucid and one severely wounded. What chance did they have if the horse went under?
But the angrily swirling water didn’t even reach the horse’s chest. The animal and its passengers reached the other side safely.
More horses walked forward. Some nonchalantly strolled through the water. Others got skittish and took the crossing at a run.
And then it was my turn.
“Don’t dump me,” I pleaded as Sacrifice plodded down the bank. “Don’t—eeek!”
She lunged forward with a squeal, splashing the water with her forelegs as she plunged her nose beneath the surface.
