“Enjoying the beast?”
I smiled in return, but as we started to pass him, I realized I didn’t know how to slow down. I didn’t know how to stop. For nuts’ sake, I don’t know how to ride. I stared back at Steed, the exhilaration gone, and he recognized panic.
At once, my horse slowed and fell in beside his, our legs almost touching as they ran in tandem. “Never ridden?”
“No.” My voice was shaky.
“We only train them with commands for the imps, just use your magic.”
I thought of the horse bursting into flames. “I haven’t learned animal magic.”
He looked at me as if I were a talking elm. “Just feel it, Elfreda.” I ignored the slight annoyance that Chevelle must have told him my name that way instead of Frey or Freya.
“I don’t understand,” I complained.
“You don’t learn magic, it’s part of you. Feel it. Think about what you want the horse to do.” My confusion must have still been evident. “It’s like a muscle. You didn’t think about lifting your leg to get on the horse, you just knew you wanted to climb on and your leg lifted.”
Chevelle had caught us now, riding up as Steed was finishing his explanation. He was angry. “This isn’t the time for a magic lesson.” Our horses slowed to a walk in tandem as he shot Steed a serious glare.
As we slowed, I remembered the fire in the clearing, my lessons with Chevelle. It had been so obvious with the fire, I guessed because I had used it for so long. “What about your hands?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Steed answered, ignoring Chevelle’s warning glance.
“Why do you use your hands, if you just think it, I mean?”
He laughed. “That’s simply a quirk, I guess; a funny habit. Like when you’re playing flip ball and you want your piece to go in so bad you lean hard to ‘help’ it in.”
I remembered the game from when I’d first come to the village. The children would be bound from magic and have to use their physical skills to throw an odd-shaped piece into the corresponding hole on a game board placed several yards away. They would lean forward after they threw, sometimes bouncing and chanting, “come on… come on”, sometimes tilting sideways at the waist and twisting like somehow wishing would make the ball respond. The game held no interest for me. I didn’t have to be bound to not have magic, it wasn’t a novelty, it was everyday life.
“We should stop for breakfast,” Chevelle stated firmly.
We hadn’t been riding more than a few minutes but he was adamant. I didn’t really mind, I’d been eating berries for too long and I wasn’t quite sure about riding yet.
“I suppose you’re right… might as well enjoy the journey.” Steed winked at me. We stopped under the canopy of a large tree and Steed grabbed me as I slid down off the horse. “You may ask him to kneel, Elfreda.” But he didn’t seem to mind handling me about the waist to help me down.
I brushed the hair back from my face. “Yes, well, I guess I should start practicing.” I noticed the fire Chevelle was building flare and then die down to the proper size.
“Sit, Elfreda,” Chevelle commanded.
Steed followed me as I walked to a fallen limb by the fire and sat. He sat as well, apparently not concerned about who was finding us breakfast. Irritation rolled off Chevelle as he concentrated before running into the tree line to the west. In a moment he was back, carrying three large birds.
“Where is your bow?” I asked.
Steed laughed loudly. “She’s a hoot!”
Chevelle looked as though he could be in danger of losing his temper. I didn’t get the joke.
“You’re serious?” Steed wasn’t laughing now. He gaped at Chevelle. “What, she’s a bright lighter?”
Chevelle was across the gap and in his face almost before Steed could stand. I started to respond but a screeching siren pierced my ears and I doubled over, boxing my hands to cover them. It was inside, inside my ears.
I tried to open my eyes, hoping someone would be there to help me, but I could see through the slits they were just standing face to face… arguing? Did they not see me? I tried to scream for help but couldn’t get the sound out. They were leaning toward each other, oblivious to me. I closed my eyes and curled into a ball as the seconds dragged on. Would I die?
And then, abruptly, it stopped.
I sucked in a ragged breath. I seemed fine, a little dizzy maybe. I risked unclenching my body to look around, expecting someone to be leaning over me, trying to help. Nothing. I straightened to a sitting position. Chevelle was at the fire, roasting the birds. Steed was beside his horse, adjusting the saddle. Both had their backs turned to me. Had they not noticed? A wave of vertigo hit me and I leaned back against the tree limb to steady myself.