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My own mother had never spoken of the Order much. Not how she’d become part of it or why she had decided to disobey when she met Joseph Abernathy—widely known as the Big Bad Wolf— that fateful day in the woods. In fact, the only time she’d ever brought it up directly was when she had called me to her side right before she died.
The night she had given me her cloak.
“Anapnéo.”
I thought Sal might be talking to me until she patted the horse, and it exhaled a long shuddery breath.
That sounded like—
“Greek.”
Had she just—
“And, no, I didn’t read your mind, you’re just very predictable.”
“I think it would be less annoying if you had,” I said sourly. “No one likes a know-it-all.”
“Then you must know a hell of a lot,” Sal said without missing a beat. “Get on.”
“Not until you tell me where we’re going.”
She held out a gloved hand to help me mount. “We’re going to see the elves.”
I actually felt surprised at the little frisson that leaped through my chest. I hadn’t experienced any sort of excitement at the prospect of encountering a new creature since before I’d crossed the century mark. Elves were right up there with unicorns in terms of Others my parents had claimed existed, but I had never seen material evidence of.
Reaching into the pockets of my cloak to locate my riding gloves, I slipped them on before threading one hand into the horse’s mane and hauling myself up without Sal’s assistance.
Sal boosted herself onto the mount’s back behind me using muscles I wasn’t sure I even possessed. Her torso pressed against my shoulder blades and back as she retrieved the reins.
Sal clicked and gave the horse’s flank a gentle nudge with the heel of her boot, and we pelted forward and into the night.
I had always loved to ride.
The rhythm of it. The speed. The way the world blurred, only the ground ahead mattered. How the beating of the horse’s hooves sank me into a hypnotic fugue.
At present, it was an altogether different beat invading my thoughts. There was no way Sal didn’t feel my heart thrashing around in my ribcage as our hips moved in tandem with the huge horse’s powerful gait.
The night wind chilled my cheeks and nose as we thundered over the hills and into the darkened tree line of the forest. I closed my eyes and let it fill my senses.
The enchantment lasted all of an hour until, predictably, the saddle began to chafe in ways that weren’t helping my concentration.
“Can we stop?” I called back to Sal over the thundering of hooves.
“Why?”
“The saddle is killing me.”
“Really?” Sal asked, the curious lilt in her voice. “You don’t smell dead.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her, the night wind whipping my hair into my eyes. “No, but you might if you don’t let me get off and run on my own for a while.”
My ears continued to ring after we’d slowed to a trot.
“How do I know I can trust you not to run away?” Sal asked.
For the most part, I tried to avoid showing off. I had grown up watching my brother and his friends engage in what seemed like the most ridiculous of contests to demonstrate their lupine prowess.
Even so, seeing Sal’s eyes fly wide in surprise when I both dismounted and removed my cloak quicker than she could sneeze came with a stab of satisfaction.
