“Amy? I need you to step back.” Horses were very sensitive, and the more she cried on him, the more I was concerned the horse would flip out. Already I could see the whites of its eyes as it tracked my arrival, and I could almost feel its fear kick up.
“Amy. You need to step back. Love, you need to let go.”
“No, I can’t. He’s my best friend,” Amy sobbed into the horse’s neck.
Turning, I gripped the man’s arm.
“What’s your name?”
“James.”
“James, you need to take Amy and get her out of here. The horse is terrified, largely because he’s sensing her fear. If they’re that closely connected, he won’t let me treat him. Can you do that for me? It’s the only way to save Malarky.” I used my no-nonsense tone, the one that I brought out when I needed complete compliance, and James gave me a brisk nod, almost as if he was saluting me.
“Amy, love. The doctor needs to work. Just give her some space. Come on now. Let’s step away.”
“No, I can’t leave him.” Amy turned a devastated face to mine.
“You’re scaring him and impeding his ability to get thecare he needs.” I was blunt, but I had to be. Amy’s mouth rounded into a little O, matching the two bright spots of pink on her cheeks. James bent, murmuring in her ear, and hauled her up and away, pulling her down the path and out of sight. Immediately I bent and put a hand to Malarky’s side when he tried to rise.
“Easy, boy. I’m here to help. Let’s just have a wee look at what’s going on, all right? Just calm down. I’m here for you.” The horse gentled under my touch, and I took a moment to swing my backpack off. Unzipping it, I dug inside for what I could use for a splint for the very obvious break in the foreleg.
My eyes fell on my scalpel, the top sheathed in a protective leather casing. The handle was exposed, and on it, a second band of diamonds glittered.
I’d somehow passed another challenge? Was it from the night before? Because I’d withstood a Kelpie? Questions reared, but I had no time to think further, as the horse shifted again, letting out a soft nicker of pain.
Pulling out a large roll of elastic bandages and a splint, I turned back to the horse and put my hands against his leg, just above the break. The horse trembled under my hands, its breath coming out in sharp huffs, and I reached for my magick to calm him. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure James kept Amy away, I allowed my magick to flow through my hands to Malarky, envisioning a soothing river of cool calm energy to lower the horse’s racing heart rate.
He was young, with a lot of life left in him, and he was terrified. On some levels, animals knew when a wound could be too great, and I had a choice to make. His owners might wonder how I healed him, but he deserved a chance—particularly when he had a home with someone who loved him so much.
“Bone and flesh, mend and weave. By my will, the pain shall leave. Hoof and heart, restore and bind, strength and healing, now intertwine.”
My magick flowed in, surrounding the break in the bone, and then it began the process of knitting it back together. I wouldn’t be able to heal it entirely, as it would be too obvious, but enough that the bone was strong, and would need only rehabilitation for strained ligaments. As my magick worked, I splinted the leg, soothing the horse as I wound the bandage around the splint, even though it was more for show at this point.
Once complete, I searched in my mind’s eye for any other injuries, but Malarky seemed well enough. Grounding myself, I inhaled, and pulled my magick back, ready to direct the pain elsewhere?—
“Malarky!”
I whirled as Amy raced forward, a sheepish James behind her, and choked as I took the horse’s pain inside me. I stumbled backward, falling on my heels from the crouch I was in, as the horse rolled and stood of its own accord, keeping its injured leg slightly off the ground.
I gasped, the pain washing through me, but there was nothing to be done now, at least not in front of the couple.
I would pay, and pay dearly for this, as the size of the wound on a horse like Malarky was enough to lay me out for a day or two. James crouched next to me and hooked an arm through mine, helping me to stand.
“I’m sorry about that, I am. It was almost impossible tokeep her away.” He steadied me on my feet, and I blinked at him, little spots dancing across my vision.
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. I was dizzy beyond belief, and the darkly sticky sludge of pain worked its way through me, like hot tar oozing down a ledge. I shuddered and sucked in a breath, willing myself to composure.
“It’s not a break. Hard to say if torn ligaments, but I think just an awkward landing and some seriously strained muscles. He’ll need rehab, but otherwise, he should be well enough.”
“Oh, thank you, Dr. Fletcher.” James clapped an arm awkwardly around my shoulders even as his wife turned to me, speculation in her eyes. I’d seen that look many a time before.
“You’re certain? I was sure it was broken.”
“I’m certain. Shock can play out differently in many animals.” I gave her a bland look, with a practiced smile, and she didn’t press. “I’ve got to get going. Walk him slowly home, or even better, get him a lift back. There’s a lovely large animal vet about an hour north of here.”
“I’m familiar with them,” Amy said, arms still wrapped around Malarky’s neck.
