Page 123 of Heart of the Desert

Erix

The stables at Kelvadan were still my favorite part of the city—a welcome escape from the crush of activity and life in the streets and the palace. Especially on a day like today, when the entire population seemed to have piled into the courtyard for Aderyn’s coronation.

I expected myself to dread the celebration, but as Keera and I together laid the circlet on Aderyn’s head—high lords of the desert crowning the Queen of its Great City—I found myself glad of the crowd. The people of Kelvadan loved her as she loved them, and she understood their ways in a way that made her better suited to handling their politics than Keera or I ever had been.

Of course, we would always draw our swords for Kelvadan if ever the need arose. Just as we would fight for any clan of the desert that needed our aid. Keera and I served the whole desert, and Kelvadan deserved a leader who cared for it the same way a lord cared for their clan.

Still, after hours of celebration, I found myself craving the warm scent of horseflesh and a moment of peace. There was another whose company I craved as well.

Alza’s head poked over the edge of the stall before I even approached, having sensed me coming. Her eyes were bright, and she nickered happily. She was adjusting to life as a pampered pet well—not that she had ever been less than perfectly cared for as my primary mount.

I slipped out a piece of fruit that I had been hiding in my sleeve, pilfered from one of the trays at the celebration, and offered it to her. She crunched on it in satisfaction as I ran my fingers over her silky forelock.

“Look at you, all fat and happy,” I murmured. Indeed, her coat was silky and shiny, and her athletic frame was already filled out. Her injury had healed, but as I had known in my heart the moment it happened, she would never bear my weight again.

The sadness in my chest at the thought was tinged bittersweet. I knew Alza would live out her remaining years as the happiest of horses—fed and admired and brushed to her heart’s content by the horse masters here in Kelvadan. I would visit her as often as I could.

In truth, she was not a young horse anymore. Even without her injury, it would not have been right to ride her as far as I often did for many more years. The excited nickering from the stall next to her told me that Doka, though, was excited by the prospect of many long journeys and wild gallops. In fact, he had reappeared shortly after the battle died down, tossing his head and seemingly offended that I had not let him accompany me into whatever grand battle I had been a part of.

Maybe the desert was right in teaching me that part of love was letting go. I sighed heavily and pressed my forehead to Alza’s, even as my throat tightened and the back of my eyes burned.

She had been my only companion through the darkest moments of my life, and even the most comfortable of retirements did not seem like an adequate repayment.

“You need to keep these new horse masters in line,” I murmured to her. “Make sure they do things to my father’s standards.”

She snorted as if in agreement. Or perhaps she was simply trying to snuffle out another snack. At that thought of my father, I pulled back and looked into her wise, dark eyes.

“Do you think he’d be proud?” I whispered.

Only silence greeted me, leaving me to answer my own question. But beyond the silence, there was the distant sound of celebration, and even beyond that, the quiet hum of magic. It was different than the cacophony of voices that had haunted me my whole life. My mind still wasn’t silent—I didn’t even wish for it to be—but now the desert sounded of quiet harmony. And in that quiet, I knew that the ghosts of my parents would no longer haunt me.

As I listened contentedly to the subtle music of snorting horses and scurrying mice in the stables, another sound joined them: A quiet murmuring voice coming from the back row of stalls. I cocked my head. I wasn’t alone.

Peeking curiously around a corner, I found General Warrick standing in the aisle, a young paint filly leaning over the door of her stall to snuffle happily at his copper hair. Back here, a partially collapsed roof let in thick beams of sunlight, making both his hair and the horse’s Palamino coat shimmer. I inhaled sharply at the sight, causing Warrick to spin around in surprise.

The filly didn’t seem perturbed, choosing to mouth at his ear instead.

I raised a single brow. “Were the celebrations not to your liking?”

“They were lovely, and I’m happy to have Doran on good terms with the Queen of Kelvadan—and the high lords of the desert, of course.” Warrick sighed and rubbed his hand over his beard. “But my men and I will be leaving shortly after the celebration.”

“I expected you to be looking forward to heading back to the mountains of Doran. You have made no secret of your distaste for the heat and the wild ways of our goddess.”

Warrick reached up and patted the nose of the horse who seemed utterly unperturbed by his distraction, and she gently lipped at his fingers. “It turns out there are some things about this land I might miss after all.”

I crossed my arms and leaned my shoulder against the frame of the nearest stall. My eyes roved over the damaged roof of the stable, partially caved in on one side, letting in large stripes of sunshine. It had caved in during the earthquakes while Keera and I were at the top of the palace. To my surprise, we were told later that Warrick led the charge into the partially collapsed building to free the trapped mounts.

“Was she one of the horses you saved?” I asked.

“She’s been following me around ever since. But I know she must get used to living in a stall again when I take my men back to Doran.”

“Does she have a rider?”

Warrick shook his head. “She belonged to a man that fell in the battle.”

“I know Doran and Viltov have both always coveted a cavalry of horses from the Ballan Desert—”

Warrick quickly shook his head and held up his hands palm out. “I have seen how your goddess treasures these creatures and the intensity of her wrath. I have no wish to anger such a… passionate deity.”