Carla had no experience handling a spooked sorhox. If she fell at this speed, against the frozen ground, with rocks hidden beneath the snow… I refused to complete the thought. After losing Wexla, seeing another female lying still felt like a nightmare I might never survive.
The trail curved ahead, a bend I knew well from riding this way, a treacherous turn with a steep drop on the outer edge. Dester’s tracks veered around it, but something was wrong. The pattern changed, showing where his gait had faltered. Deep gouges in the trail, a chaotic pattern unlike the claw-tipped hoofprints from before.
My throat closed off tight. I knew what those marks meant before my mind could form the words.
I rounded another bend and saw her.
Carla lay motionless, a small, crumpled form on the white-dusted ground. Dester stood in the woods to the left, blowing hard, staring toward Carla. Snowflakes settled on her still body,already beginning to cover her coat and pants. Her auburn hair fanned out across the ground, a shocking contrast that made her seem smaller, more fragile.
“No.” The word came out raw, more a growl than speech.
Wexla had looked like this in her final days, still, pale, already slipping away. The parallel hit me hard, and it was all I could do to breathe.
I leaped from Peeka’s back before she fully stopped, landing with a jolt and rushing to Carla’s side. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I knelt beside her. The same helplessness from my past threatened to paralyze me, but this had to be different.
With careful hands, I rolled Carla onto her back, brushing dirt from her face. Her skin felt cold, but the soft puff of breath escaping her mouth reassured me. “Carla, can you hear me?”
She moaned, her eyelids fluttering. Relief roared through me, nearly knocking me backward. Her eyes opened, her gaze a bit disoriented but aware. She focused on my face, and the tightness in my chest eased.
“What happened?” She tried to sit up but winced and flopped back on the ground.
“Dester threw you.” I kept my voice calm despite the panic coursing through me. The professional tone I used with injured family or friends fell into place like armor. “Don’t move yet. Let me check for injuries.”
I ran my hands along her arms, chest, and legs, feeling for breaks or unnatural angles. Nothing seemed too seriously hurt, but she gasped when I touched her right ankle.
“Ow.” Her voice was stronger now. A flush spread across her cheeks. “I’m fine otherwise. Just rattled. I’m sorry. I should’ve hung on harder.”
Was she truly embarrassed? Of all the things to feel after being thrown by a creature this large. The human capacity for misplaced emotions never ceased to amaze me.
“You’re lucky. A fall like that could have been much worse.” I helped her into a sitting position, supporting her back. My hand spanned almost her entire shoulder blade, a reminder of our size difference. Her bones felt delicate under my touch, nothing like an orc female’s sturdy frame.
She touched her head carefully. “So much for my first riding lesson.”
“I should’ve chosen a different trail.” Or turned back when we reached the forest. But no, I’d wanted to spend more time with her.
And now she was hurt.
As I helped her steady herself, I noticed the snow falling harder than when we’d started our ride. What had been gentle flakes were now thick, wet clusters that clung to our clothing and melted against our skin. The wind that had been barely noticeable earlier now drove the snow sideways. I could feel the temperature dropping with each gust. I could feel it in the way the moisture in my nostrils threatened to freeze with each breath.
The storm was intensifying fast. I hadn’t heard we’d get more than a dusting today, but storms could grow quickly in this part of the surface. Gray clouds hung low, heavy with moisture waiting to fall. The forest looked different under the gathering storm, less familiar, more threatening.
Carla followed my gaze. “Is it supposed to snow this much today?”
Rustling came from the underbrush to our right. I rose, placing myself between Carla and whatever might be coming. The forest held predators far more dangerous than chumbles, and an injured human would draw attention.
A group of adult chumbles burst from the foliage, their pink-scaled bodies bobbing as they ran. At least five of the creatures charged across the trail, screeching their high-pitchedalarm calls. Their long necks stretched forward, and their clawed feet kicked up snow as they ran. Ridiculous creatures, gangly and awkward, but their panic was contagious. Something had frightened them. Maybe a predator deeper in the forest.
They passed between us and Peeka and Dester. Dester swung around and bolted back down the trail.
Peeka’s nostrils flared, her dark eyes widening as the creatures darted around her. She reared, snorting in alarm, then raced after Dester, in the direction of town.
“Peeka, stop.” I called out, but she didn’t pause in her flight. “Whoop, whoop, whoop!”
For the first time since I’d raised her from a youngling, Peeka ignored me. She disappeared around the bend, her heavy footsteps fading. The betrayal stung. In the orc kingdom, a bonded sorhox never abandoned its rider. Never. But this wasn’t the kingdom, and Peeka hadn’t been on the surface long.
The sudden silence echoed around us. We were alone in the forest with a snowstorm building fast. The wind whipped through the trees, carrying bitter cold. I turned back to Carla, who’d managed to get to her feet, though she kept her weight off her injured ankle. Snow dusted her hair like a crown, melting where it touched her skin.
“Well, that’s not ideal.” She attempted a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I guess we’re walking back?”
