Page 116 of Quiver

Sophia shot a look at a young man, who nodded his understanding.

“The animals weren’t that picky about the drones to begin with,” Fletcher explained. “But by this point, they don’t seem to notice them much more than they would a fly.”

“I imagine they aren’t fond of flies either, though.”

“No, and Sprite is spirited, which is why he might try to toss his mane or swipe it with his tail if it annoys him, but he’s also vain enough on days like this where he gets a little extra attention.”

“Aren’t we all?” Sophia’s lips curled up. “I’ve sent up instructions to start him off at a trot and pick up speed once they’re down the hill until the grass gives way to sand, then break into a full gallop before taking a decisive shot.”

“Sprite shouldn’t have any trouble there. He loves to run.”

“I wasn’t concerned about the horse anymore. I’m wondering what you make of our lead actress’s ability to maintain form for a continuous shot of that length and technical complexity?”

“Now you’ve found the limits of my expertise. I understand the horse more than I comprehend the actress most days.”

Sophia smirked. “Should I tell her you question her stamina?”

Fletcher laughed. “Not if you want to keep me on the job. And while I don’t pretend to understand the mechanics of the shot, I’m certain Kye can do anything she sets her mind to.”

“You’re biased,” Sophia said flatly, before softening, “but I’m beginning to agree with your assessment. She’s managed to live up to every challenge thus far.”

“More than you know,” Fletcher said, then stepped back as the radios beeped to life again with another series of cues and instructions.

There was another flurry of activity at several spots along the set until Sophia called, “Action.”

Fletcher’s eyes tracked movement on a high ridge in the distance. A lone horse broke down the hill slowly, picking up speed as a grassy rise gave way to a short plain before descending onto the beach below them. The rider came into clear view, close enough now to see her auburn hair streaming down her back and adding a dramatic element to her period garb, not so different from what she’d worn during a small-town showcase half a world away.

Kye rode proudly and purposefully as the majestic roan kicked up sand and water. The sight of her stirred something powerful in Fletcher’s chest. She rose up from the saddle, all tall boots and billowing skirt as she lifted the elegant recurve bow from her side and gracefully nocked an arrow entirely by feel. Her eyes remained locked on something only she could see. Then drawing with flawless form, she held the pose for several dramatic strides before letting the arrow fly with precision.

As it zipped through the air, it struck nothing more than wet sand, and a small part of Fletcher still winced at the waste of something so perfectly executed.

“Cut,” Sophia called, and everyone who’d stood silently holding their breath began to move once more.

“What a beauty,” someone cheered, and several others playfully added their agreement.

Fletcher shook her head and glanced back at the arrow stuck in nothingness. She’d been on set for a couple of months now, but the archer in her still hadn’t grown entirely used to this crowd, who preferred a camera shot over the one made with the bow. Still, she had no doubt that by the time the sequence was edited together with whatever the cast would shoot this afternoon, it would clearly show Kylie laying some enemy to waste with that arrow. While she supposed the method was better than shooting extras with actual weapons, a part of her wondered if she’d ever be able to unsee the reality of it all after being this close to the process.

As if sensing her disquiet, Sophia caught her eye once more and nodded for her to come watch the replay with the rest of her team.

She and a couple of assistants gathered around the tablet screen as they reviewed the raw footage.

Fletcher didn’t understand what everyone else was looking for as the footage rolled, but the proximity and movement of the camera brought Kylie into vivid focus for her.

There were a million details to be assessed all at once within the greater context. Thankfully, Fletcher’s attraction to this woman dovetailed beautifully with the assessment she was charged with making here. Everything from Kylie’s seat in the saddle to her form to her technical prowess contributed to the total package of her beauty. There was nothing for her to critique except her own rising arousal in the middle of a work meeting, so she quietly stepped away from the group as they began to discuss editing options.

Walking to the edge of where the grassy hill met sandy dunes, she took a few deep breaths of salty sea air and let her eyes roam over Kylie as she trotted her mount up to a young woman who’d been helping with any number of odd jobs between takes.

“Would you get him a quick drink and cooldown?” Kylie asked her fellow redhead.

“Yes, miss. I’ll make sure he’s ready if you need another go.”

“Thank you, Reggie.” She handed off the reins and hopped nimbly down to the beach. Then, shielding her eyes with her hand against the sun, she searched her surroundings until she spotted Fletcher, and a slow smile spread across her face.

“What’s the verdict?” she called as they moved instinctually toward each other.

“Perfection.”

Kylie laughed. “I know I am, but how’s the shot?”