“You ride in the paddock, where I can keep an eye on you, or not at all.”
Lord Kildare’s way of drawing a line reminded her more of Uncle Lucivar than of her father. Oh, her father drew lines, too, but he never sounded so . . . physical . . . about it.
“Fine,” she said.
“There are a couple of low jumps, if you both have a mind to try them.” Kildare walked back into the stables.
Saetien waited and watched Shelby and the Sceltie Warlord play tug with a rag one of them had found somewhere. More accurate to say the adult Sceltie was holding one end of the rag and Shelby was happily doing all the tugging and growling.
She resented that he’d told the Scelties where they were going, especially since they weren’t actually going anywhere. Then it hit her, and hit hard, that though she might be his special friend and he would learn about human things from her, the Scelties who lived here were the adults, the rule makers, that he would obey.
Kildare walked out of the stables with a chestnut mare. A Rose-Jeweled witch. “This is Lady Foxx. She was going to take herself out for a gallop, but she’s willing to ride in the paddock with you since you’re new here and need to stay close to home.” The look in his eyes dared Saetien to contradict him.
If she did, would that be another mark against her?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Foxx,” Saetien said. “I appreciate you giving up your gallop.”
*We will gallop with Kieran or Ryder on another day,* Foxx replied.
“Caitie and Stormchaser are walking around in that paddock,” Kildare said. “Leave them be.”
She nodded and didn’t ask questions, since she wanted a chance to ride. After she’d mounted and Kildare had checked the length of the stirrups, she looked at Shelby. “You stay here, okay?”
*Saeti?* Puzzlement, maybe hurt, at being left behind.
“I won’t be far away.”
*We will stay here and visit the horses,* the Sceltie Warlord said.
“That’s good.”
“The pup will be fine,” Kildare said quietly. “And it’s good for him to meet the horses—and for them to meet him. Go on, now. No point frittering away the day.”
As she and Foxx walked toward the paddock, Saetien wondered how different riding a regular horse was from riding with one of the kindred. She’d never ridden a regular horse.
She could pose the question at the midday meal. It would be something she could talk about with her hosts.
As they reached the paddock, the gate opened before Saetien could decide if she should dismount to open it or try to use Craft. Foxx must have opened it, and that was a relief. Saetien still wasn’t always successful in using Craft now that her power was strictly Purple Dusk instead of the range of power she’d once had in her Twilight’s Dawn Jewel.
Reminded of what she had lost, Saetien tightened her grip on the reins that were attached to a halter, causing Foxx to snort. No bits when riding kindred, but that didn’t mean the horse didn’t pick up a rider’s mood by the tension in the human’s body.
Best not to think about why she no longer wore Twilight’s Dawn.
A horse grazed at the far end of the paddock. Probably a mare, since there was a foal gamboling nearby, his antics making the girl who was with them laugh and clap her hands. The mare was a solid black. The foal was also black, but had a white mark in the shape of a bolt of lightning running down his face.
Saetien pressed her legs against Foxx’s sides to indicate she wanted to go faster than a walk.
Foxx laid her ears back in warning—and Saetien didn’t doubt for a moment that the mare would toss her if this turned into a battle of wills.
“Can’t we go faster?” she asked.
*Caitie and Stormchaser need to see us,* Foxx replied.
They weren’t sight shielded. But girl and foal weren’t paying attention to them. The other mare lifted her head, considered them, then went back to grazing.
Foxx continued her easy approach until the foal noticed them. He squealed a warning as he placed himself in front of the girl, ready to do battle.
Saetien sighed as his psychic scent hit her. A Warlord Prince.
The girl’s psychic scent hit her too. It carried a fear so sharp, Saetien felt its jagged edge.
Foxx continued to approach until she reached some understood distance that allowed the foal to stand his ground but didn’t goad him into an attack that might end with him injuring himself.
“Hello,” Saetien said. “I’m Saetien, but my friends call me Saeti. Are you Caitie?”
Something very wrong with this girl. More than fear.
Caitie put a hand to her chest. “Caitie.” She smiled. “Saeti. Foxx.” Her other hand rested on the foal’s back. “Storm.” She looked at the black mare. “Mother.”
Having made his point, Stormchaser returned to his dam to nurse. Caitie wandered the paddock, never going far from the two horses.
Foxx turned away from them and lifted into a canter. She and Saetien circled the paddock a few times before Foxx said, *Jump?*
“Yes!”
Small jumps, nothing challenging, but fun all the same. They took the jumps from both directions before Foxx slowed to a walk. Saetien looked over her shoulder. The mare and foal, along with Caitie, were also walking. Well, the mare and Caitie were walking while the foal dashed, hopped, and circled the two females.
Saetien looked away before Caitie noticed her observing them. If Caitie noticed such things. More than fear made the girl’s psychic scent odd.
*Caitie is lame,* Foxx said. *Lame leg, lame . . . brain. Hurt bad when she was a foal.*
When they walked past the open paddock gate, Saetien said, “Should we close the gate?”
*No. It is time for Caitie to rest.*
Saetien dismounted at the stable door, then walked in with Foxx. Ryder was there, grooming a bay Warlord while coaching a young witch who was standing on the other side of the horse. Spotting Saetien and Foxx, he stepped away and said, “I’ll show you where to put Foxx’s tack.”
She put the tack away and gave Foxx a quick grooming before the mare headed back out to gallop and graze and spend time with the other horses. The Warlord followed her out, and the young witch quickly said her goodbyes, leaving Saetien with Ryder—and Shelby, who came running from somewhere to greet her.
Before she could ask Ryder about the girl, Caitie walked into the stables with Stormchaser.
The puppy looked at the foal and said, *My Saeti!*
The foal looked at the puppy and said, *My Caitie!*
“Now that we all know where we stand, Caitie girl, you should take a bit of a rest before heading for school,” Ryder said.
Girl and foal walked into one of the box stalls.
Ryder closed the lower half of the door, then tipped his head to indicate that Saetien should leave the stables with him.
“She was a bright girl before some visiting aristo prick raced through the village in a pony cart he didn’t have the skill to drive, not with a regular horse in the traces. If it had been a kindred horse . . .” Ryder shook his head. “The aristo lost control and the pony cart tipped over on Caitie. Snapped her leg in several places and cracked her skull, damaging her brain. The best Healers in Scelt were summoned and did their best for her, but they couldn’t give her back all that she’d lost. Or maybe her mind and Self found other roads to walk while her body healed.” He seemed about to say something else, then decided against it.
She could guess what he didn’t say—there had been a Healer who lived long ago who could have repaired the damage to Caitie’s brain, but no one had known that some part of her still existed. Besides, could a Self without flesh really do a healing?
Or had someone who was no longer flesh shown the girl the other roads she could walk?
“What happened to the aristo?” she asked, hurrying to keep up with Ryder as he headed for the house.