He walks past without speaking. Therin falls in beside him, and Vel moves to his other side. Three Fae, standing in a loose triangle.
Then Cairn lifts his hand and the air before him shimmers.
I take a step back as something takes shape in the space in front of him. Legs first, long and slender, ending in hooves that gleam in the early morning light. Then the body—the arch of a neck, the proud lift of a head.
But it isn’t a horse.
The shape is close enough to fool the eye for half a second, but everything else is wrong. It’s too tall, toostill. Its coat ripples between solid and transparent. Its fur is pale. And its eyes …
The eyes appear ancient, silver-white and fathomless, and are fixed on me with an intelligence that no horse has. This creature sees me. Itknowsme. And it has already decided what I’m worth.
I want to run. Every instinct I possess is screaming at me to turn and flee into the trees, and get as far from this thing aspossible. But my legs won’t move. I can only stand there while it watches me out of those terrible, patient eyes.
Another mount takes form in front of Therin. This one is darker, the black of a moonless night. And Vel’s is different again, the deep red of old blood.
Three mounts. Three riders.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat, and I clamp my lips together, swallowing it down.
There are three members of the Wild Hunt right in front of me.
Cairn swings into his saddle in one fluid motion. His mount doesn’t react, its silver eyes still fixed on me.
“Come.”
The word cuts through my paralysis. Cairn is looking at me, with one hand extended.
I swallow, and make myself walk toward him, while the mount’s eyes track me. Once I’m close enough, Cairn leans forward, and with an ease that can’t be anything but magical, he pulls me up behind him. My thighs bracket his. My chest presses against his spine. I have to wrap my arms around his waist or fall, and when I do, I feel the heat of him through the leather. The steady rhythm of his breathing.
The saddle shifts beneath me, adjusting to make room for a second rider. The mount’s magic, I think a little wildly, accommodating Cairn’s needs without being asked.
“Hold tight.” That’s the only warning I get before he touches his heels to the mount’s flanks.
It doesn’t run like a horse runs. There’s no pounding rhythm, no jarring impact up my spine when its hooves hit the earth. It moves more like water, flowing across the ground. Trees flash past too fast to see. The world becomes a smear of color and motion.
And I feel …exhilarated.
I love to ride, but this … this is something else.
Time loses all meaning. The sun climbs higher. My arms ache from holding on. My thighs burn from gripping the mount’s sides. And through it all, I feel Cairn. The heat of his body, the rise of his chest with each breath. The steady, unhurried beat of his heart against my palms where they’re pressed to his stomach.
He doesn’t speak, and neither do I.
The sun is starting to sink toward the horizon when we finally slow. We’re in a forest. I don’t think it’s the same one we started in. The trees are older here, thicker trunks, and gnarled branches. Cairn guides the mount through them until we come to a small clearing, where he stops. He swings out of the saddle first, then reaches up for me.
His hands close around my waist and he lifts me down. For a moment, he holds me, my feet dangling from the ground, his palms warm on my waist and my hands braced on his shoulders, his face inches from mine.
Then he sets me on the ground and steps back.
My legs buckle, and I catch myself against the nearest tree, forcing my aching muscles to hold me upright. The mount turns its head to look at me, and those eyes hold mine for a second. Then it simply … dissolves. Breaking apart into wisps of moonlight and shadow, fading back into wherever it came from.
I stare at the empty space until Cairn breaks the silence.
“We’ll camp here tonight. I’ll take first watch. Therin, you’re second. Vel, you’ll take the last.”
They don’t argue, and my lips part when three bedrolls appear from nowhere on the ground.
I blink, rubbing my eyes, wondering if I’m imagining them, then blink again. My tired mind turns it over, trying to make it fit with anything I know about how the world works.
