To his credit, he swallows whatever objections he might still have, takes a step back, then another.
“Please, Your Highness,” he says, choking down a sob as he turns away at last.
“Shh, Starcaller? I’m here to help you.” I keep my voice calm, soft, punctuating each phrase with the coos and clicks that ifrak riders use to calm them. “I need you to trust me.” I have to be able to get close enough to reposition the calf, and I have to be able to get it done before the calf suffocates or Starcaller collapses from exhaustion.
My soothing tone and rhythmic clicks seem to be working. The frantic swirl in Starcaller’s eyes seems to slow just a bit, and staying as steady as I can, I move into the stall with her.
“There, we can trust each other, right?”
The moment I say it, I can tell I’m wrong. Something shifts in Starcaller’s demeanor and she rears up, thrashing her head. I’m a heartbeat away from the pointy end of her tusk going through my guts, narrowly missing that fate only to catch the broadside of it. With the force of a battering ram, she sends me sailing across the stall into the opposite wall, even the rafters above trembling from the impact.
“Okay, maybe not trust,” I wince. “But cooperate?” I ask, pulling myself to my feet. There’s no time to acknowledge whatever might be broken or dislodged. Every second that passes lowers the chance that I can save either of them. “Can we try cooperation? You can’t get through this alone,” I whisper, clicking and humming like it’s all a lullaby I’m singing to her.
One step closer, then another, hand outstretched in a peace offering. The humming has her in a sort of trance, and I’m just about to reach her when her belly lurches and Starcaller screams again. Head ringing, I try to focus on the ifrak and the calf wriggling inside her, its legs pressing out at all the wrong angles.
They don’t have time for me to worry about going deaf. And the moment I hesitate or show fear, she’s going to kick me out by whatever means necessary. With every strand of my soul tellingme to hurry, I have to project calm. I have to stay steady or I risk spooking her again.
But every time I get close to being able to manipulate the calf, Starcaller’s wracked by another painful contraction that makes her shy away.
I’m planning my next approach when all of my senses sharpen. Suddenly, every part of me is on high alert, and I know deep in my bones that we’re not alone. Without looking, I know who it is, too. There’s only one person who has this effect on me, and the waft of her sweet floral scent is the last bit of confirmation I need. I curse the swell of emotion that rises from deep within me. I’d thought that it only happened when Ilookedat her, so I’ve done my best to look past her at every available opportunity, but now it’s her presence alone that brings up that unnameable feeling. Also anger. So much anger.
“You need to leave,” I shout over my shoulder. She’s putting herself in harm’s way just by being here. The stable walls have held up to Starcaller’s rampage thus far, but there’s no telling how she’ll react when she realizes she’s lost her calf.
Ifshe loses it.
“I heard the cries,” Ingrid says, panting as if she ran here the same way I did. “I thought it was a woman, but then they told me it was Starcaller, so I—”
“Youneed to leave,” I growl again. Starcaller swings her tusks, and I manage to avoid them entirely this time…only to take a swift kick to the center of my chest.
Ingrid’s hand reaches down, offering to help me up.
“It’s not safe for you here,” I tell her, letting myself indulge in the soft warmth of her touch as I slip my hand into hers. I pullmyself up with my own strength, but I can’t resist that chance to touch her. “You need to go outside.”
She crosses her arms in front of her, face flushed, either from her run down here or the argument, who’s to say which. “I can help,” she says, petulant.
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t need your help, and I don’t need you broken into pieces.”
I start to step around her, but Ingrid moves to block me. “Well,Idon’t needyoubroken in pieces, so perhaps it’s best if we work together.”
Why would it matter to her what happens to me? She would still be queen.
“I’m not hopeless,” she adds, shrugging off her cloak. “I do have experience with this sort of thing. Normally sheep and cows, mind you, but I learn fast. Trust me.”
I’m trying to form a response to that while she’s tying her golden hair into a knot behind her head, the precise movements of her fingers leaving me mesmerized for a beat.
She drops her hands and tilts her head to the side, leveling a look at me that could rival any I’ve seen from courtiers. “Is your pride more important to the reach than these animals?”
Shattered realms, she’s incredible.
“Fine. We’ve wasted too much time arguing about it,” I snap. “Stand over there and do what you can to calm her.”
Ingrid arches a brow at me, hands on her hips, and for a moment I think she’s going to keep the argument going. The moment passes, though, and she circles to Starcaller’s front, singing the same hums and clicks to Starcaller that Visri and Ihad. And it’s definitely singing when she does it. Soft and sweet. So melodic that my breathing slows as much as Starcaller’s.
With the panic gone, clarity moves in. Ingrid keeps Starcaller’s focus on her, and I move around the animal without fear of being trampled.
It’ll be a mercy from the gods if we’re even able to save Starcaller, but I know without a conversation that Ingrid is as determined as I am to save them both.
By the time I’ve started actually repositioning the calf, the crowd of onlookers has moved into the stable, the intrigue ofbothroyals being involved in such an event is too great to resist. Visri and the stable marshal have brought all the supplies I asked for but never needed, and their nervous energy is mixed in with all the other tension, a whole stable of breaths held each time I make another calculated move.
