Kiela watched the herd swim toward the shore. There were at least a dozen of the half-fish half-horse animals, and each was as beautiful as the sea itself. Water sprayed from the manes, and Kiela couldn’t tell what was horse and what was ocean.
Closer, she could see how sleek and perfect they were. They weren’t like some of the illustrations in the library’s illuminated manuscripts, half a horse stuck unceremoniously to half a fish. Instead, they were one cohesive creature. The horse head and neck, with forelegs, flowed into a sleek dolphin-like body that narrowed into a gorgeous mermaid-like tail covered in shimmering scales. Their coloration varied from pale to jewel tones—shades of blue, green, purple, and red. One was as golden as the sun.
Kneeling, Larran snapped his fingers. “Sian, to me!”
He beckoned to Kiela to come closer as one of the mares separated herself from the rest and swam forward, her hooves pawing at the waves as her tail propelled her toward the rocks. She was a rich gold with black streaks in her mane, and her eyes were a fathomless blue.
“Aren’t you a beauty,” Kiela cooed.
The horse-fish tossed her mane as if she understood her.
From one of his pockets, Larran produced a tomato. This time, he didn’t have the excuse that he was rushing to her smoke-filled house. He simply had a tomato in his pocket. She wondered if they ever ended up squished. He handed it to Kiela.
“Hand flat,” he said softly. “Offer it to her.”
Squatting next to him, Kiela held the tomato out flat on her palm. Water from the wet rocks soaked into the hem of her skirt, but she ignored it—she’d dry, eventually.
Sian swam forward and then treaded water a few feet too far away.
“You’re new, that’s all,” Larran said, still soft. “She’s being cautious, but not as wary as she could be. If she was with foal, she’d never have come this close. But she isn’t. None of them are.”
There was a note in his voice that sounded . . . sad? Worried? She wanted to ask more questions. Were they supposed to be with foal? If so, why weren’t they? But before she could form the words on her lips, Sian stretched out her neck and swam closer.
Kiela held still, marveling to be so close to such a beautiful creature. They were one of the wonders of the Northern Sea. No one knew how they were created, whether by a deliberate spell or by accidental magic, but the stories claimed they’d suddenly appeared one season, while a group of island fisherfolk were trying and failing to catch any fish. Day after day, the fisherfolk had been returning with empty nets. Their families were starving, and their villages were dying. But then one day, the merhorses appeared and drove the fish directly into their nets.
From then on, there was a relationship between the islanders and the merhorses. Herders like Larran would care for the herds, ensuring they were healthy, helping them with the often-dangerous birthing of foals, feeding them when the winter drove the fish too deep for the horse-fish to dive. In return, the merhorses would aid the fisherfolk in their boats during the spring, summer, and fall.
“The key,” Larran said, so close to her ear that she felt the warmth of his breath, “is to not be afraid. She won’t let you drown. You need to trust.”
What if this time the merhorse decided she didn’t like her rider? What if that nonhuman sense of humor that Larran had mentioned caused her to dunk Kiela? To think it funny if she panicked, flailed, and drowned?Larran wouldn’t have agreed to this if he didn’t think it would be okay.
She didn’t know if she trusted Sian.
But part of her wanted to trust Larran. She just didn’t know if it was the sensible part or the new reckless part. She thought of what she’d done in the garden with the seeds and the spell. Even knowing how dangerous it was, she didn’t regret the attempt.I’ll try again. And again. Until it works.It was worth the risk.
“How do I mount?” Kiela asked.
“Like this.” And then his strong arms were around her waist, lifting her onto the back of the horse-fish. He lowered her gently, as if she were a precious thing he didn’t dare break. She felt the warmth of his skin through her shirt, and then she felt the cold of the waves as her legs dipped into the ocean. She hiked her skirt up to her thighs, but it was already soaked.
He held her a moment longer, allowing the merhorse to become accustomed to her.
“How do I steer?” she asked.
“You don’t,” he said. “She steers. You ride.”
He then released her. Instinctively, she leaned forward and grabbed onto Sian’s mane as the merhorse lunged away from the rocks. Sea spray and wind spattered Kiela’s face.
The merhorse picked up speed, jumping through the waves like a dolphin. Kiela clung to her mane, feeling as if she were holding on to seaweed, slippery but soft. She let out a shriek as Sian leaped over the top of a large cresting wave, and then she laughed as they sailed down the other side.
She’d never felt anything like this. It was terrifying. And wonderful.
She felt as if her blood had become the wind, and her breath had become the sea spray. She tasted salt, and she tasted freedom. Both were glorious.
They galloped away from the island into the wide blue.
Beside her, Kiela saw Larran on a purple merhorse. He had the widest smile on his face, and she knew she was seeing him in his element. This was where he belonged. This was what he loved. She could see it as plainly as she could read words on a page. He’d allowed her into his world with this ride. It was a gift, as much as the cinnamon buns and the chimney repair.
It was easy to be annoyed with him for the way he’d overstepped. But maybe, after this, she could forgive him. At least a little. Maybe he was just as awkward with people as she was, in his own way.
