“Other than right now,” he clarified. “Allow me to make it up to you . . .” He took a step forward, as if to walk through the doorway, and Kiela wedged herself diagonally, leaning her shoulder against one side of the doorframe while her feet were in the opposite corner, as if that were a casual and normal way to stand. He halted.
“If you’d like to make it up to me . . .” She paused, hoping a brilliant idea would come to her. What could she propose? A walk in the woods? A trip into town? A visit to the bakery? What would interest him enough that he’d abandon his idea to come into her house, where he could see the spellbooks and discover she’d cast a spell in the garden . . . “Your merhorses!”
He looked confused, and she was suddenly aware of how ridiculous it was for her to think she could block the doorway if he decided he wanted to walk through. He towered over her without even trying. If he wanted to, he could have scooped her up one-handed and set her aside, but thankfully, he stayed put on her front step. “My merhorses?” he repeated.
“You offered to let me ride one,” Kiela said.
Wait—was that what she wanted to do? She’d never done such a thing. She’d seen it, when she was a kid, and she’d begged her parents to let her try.When you’re older,they’d always said, but by that time, they’d moved to the city, where there were no merhorses or merfolk or anything but minnows and trash in the canals.
Caz piped up behind her. “You did! You said it. Before. I heard you.”
“I didn’t think you wanted . . .” Larran began, and then he shook his head. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea. The ocean’s warm today. Perfect weather for it. I just didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Of course I am!” She smiled brightly at him, and it felt so fake that she thought her cheeks might crack. She hoped he couldn’t tell that under normal circumstances she would never voluntarily suggest any kind of extended social activity. If he’d shown up just an hour later, after she’d had time to hide all the evidence . . .
Cheerfully, Caz shooed her outside. “Great! It’s settled. Have fun, you two.” Shoving with his tendrils, he shut the door firmly behind her.
“If you want to change your clothes . . .” Larran suggested.
“Nope, I’m fine as is.”
“Your skirt will get wet. Likely, all of you will—”
“I’ll dry,” she said quickly. “I’m not made of sugar.”
Larran smiled at her, and Kiela looked up at him and hoped this wasn’t a mistake.
He led the way toward the path through the forest, and she glanced back to see Caz plastered against the window, filling the panes with his leaves, as he watched to ensure they left. She then followed Larran through the green, to the cliffs. The wind had picked up, and it blew her blue hair into her face. She pushed the strands back behind her ears. Waiting for her at the top of the wooden stairs, Larran held out his hand.
She blinked at it. “I’m fine.”
He blushed, lowering his hand. “Ah. Of course.”
Just because she’d lived most of her life in the city didn’t mean she was incapable of doing anything for herself. The sooner he learned that, the better they’d get along.
Of course, he’d be more impressed with my ability to be independent if I hadn’t almost burned down my house, lost my one and only chicken, and violated imperial law all within twenty-four hours.At least he didn’t know about the last one. She intended to keep it that way.
Kiela followed him down the stairs, holding on to the railing as the wind picked and pulled at her hair and her clothes. The sea was choppier than it had been when she’d gathered the rosebuds. White crests rose and disappeared. She heard waves crash against the rocks as if they wanted to shatter them.
He hadn’t said anything since they’d started down, and she wondered if he was regretting agreeing to this. And fixing her chimney. And gifting her eggs, cheese, and cinnamon buns. He’d only stopped by to apologize; he couldn’t have anticipated a brief courtesy call turning into an outing in which he’d have to spend time with her. Why had he said yes?He can’t have been charmed by my friendliness,Kiela thought. She hadn’t encouraged any of it.
Perhaps it had to do with whatever had happened when they were children. She wondered again what she’d done back then to make him feel he had to try so hard to be nice to her now. Or what her parents had done. But instead she asked, “How do you ride a merhorse?”
Turning his head, he smiled back at her, and she knew she’d asked the right question. “First, you need to earn one’s trust . . .” He went on to describe the different merhorses in his herd and which treats they preferred. “Sian, she’s the golden mare, is fond of tomatoes. I discovered that when the apple trees on Caltrey sickened and wouldn’t produce anymore. You might want to start with her. She can be fast, but she won’t play tricks.”
“Tricks?” Kiela asked.
“A few of them like to submerge with riders on them,” Larran said. “Merhorses have a sense of humor, you see, but it’s not quite a human sense of humor.”
Maybe she should have stayed back at the cottage and found a different way to distract him from the spellwork in the garden. The merhorse herders had always looked so gloriously wild and free when she used to watch them as a child. Now it was beginning to sound a bit more reckless. She wasn’t used to taking risks.
That’s a good enough reason to do it.Her life seemed to be all about taking risks lately, starting the second she’d taken the lift down to the canals.Maybe that’s who I need to be now if I want to thrive here—a person who takes risks.
He led her past his house, a sweet yellow cottage squeezed between the cliffs and the sea. It had a porch that wrapped around the front, as well as a balcony on the roof. Rocks served as a buffer between his porch and the waves. He paused to remove his boots and socks, and she did the same, leaving them safe on the sand. She used the ribbons on her skirt to hike it up above her knees. Following Larran, she climbed barefoot over the stones that jutted out into the sea.
Spray flew into the air as the waves crashed against the boulders. He straddled two rocks, put his fingers in his mouth, and whistled. The whistle pierced the wind.
In answer, several merhorses neighed.
