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That admission has me reconsidering my sanity. I know I heard his voice, but perhaps it had been for me to hear alone. That does not mean I didn’t hear it. I know I did, but part of me needs to prove it to myself and really make sure I’m not finally losing my mind. After all this time, it’s possible. When I was a prisoner in the king’s castle, I’d fooled myself into seeing visions of my sister. Each time, I’d been disappointed. When she finally appeared, I hadn’t been able to stomach her phantom, even if she was whole and real and alive.
Had I done the same to this warhorse? Or whatever he is?
“You can come with me,” I murmur. “I’d prefer you to, but I need to go out there. I can’t explain why or how I know I need to.” I roll my lips between my teeth in worry. “I just know I need to.”
Their silence fills the air around us before Weyland nods solemnly and reaches for the door. “If he appears like he’s going to attack, then you get back into the cabin as quickly as possible,” he commands, leaving no room for negotiation.
“I’m not foolish,” I counter. “Of course I’ll return if he attacks.”
But I’ll be afraid for my monsters if he does. Especially since we’re going outside because of me.
Weyland opens the door, and both he and Kaito exit first, leaving me in the doorway to stare out at the tree line where red eyes watch me. I hesitate, wondering if this is really the smartest idea or if I’m making a mistake, but the more I study the feeling, the more this feels right. This creature will not harm me. I’m certain of it, just as I’m certain that the pain in his eyes is an echo of my own.
Part of me is frightened despite the certainty that I’m right, but I’m tired of being so afraid. What use has it been to me? None of these monsters have harmed me, not like my father orthe king. Those men were true monsters. These ones are not. I still don’t know if this life is worth living, but why not give it my all if I’m not afraid of dying? Why sit in the dark in fear if death is not so terrifying? Isn’t being so afraid pointless in the face of all that?
The warhorse paws at the ground with its hooves, its red eyes watching me as I take a step outside. I keep my footsteps slow and gentle as I put more distance between the cabin and me. Weyland and Kaito stay on either side of me, their shoulders tense in case he attacks.
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” I say, holding out my hands to show him that I’m harmless, which is silly. I’m flanked by a wolf and a water monster and I’m trying to show him that I, the small, achingly human female in their center, is harmless. “I just want to talk.”
The warhorse snorts and shakes his mane, his eyes never moving from me. He doesn’t look toward Weyland or Kaito, as if they are not a threat. He’s completely focused on me, my words, and my hands. That wickedly sharp horn glints in the light, drawing my gaze. The first traces of fear trickle inside me as I’m reminded of what he can do with that horn, but I push it aside.
I’m tired of being a mouse. I’m tired of being afraid of everything.
“Won’t you come out?” I ask when the warhorse remains in the darkness. “We can hardly see you when you’re hiding.”
Weyland scoffs. “I can see him just fine where he’s at.”
“You must be hungry,” I continue after shooting Weyland a look that quiets his protest. “We have some vegetables inside. Or other things. Do you like stew?”
The beast stills and then takes a step toward the clearing.
“That’s it,” I coo. “You’re safe here. You can come out.”
Another step, and another, until the sunlight that breaks through the clearing dances on his coat and highlights just howbeautiful he is. Although he’s a solid, inky black, there are colors that appear in the darkness when the light hits him, as if even in shadow, there’s color. Blues and purples and pinks dance as he moves forward with slow, measured steps, moving along him like a wave as the sunbeams hit him, and his horn glistens like crushed jewels have been embedded inside it. The red of his eyes seems less threatening when he shines, as if he’s simply a large horse with a menacing horn on its head.
It has been so long since I’ve had stew, he says, and I smile, glancing at Weyland and Kaito.
“Tell me you heard him,” I say. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.”
Weyland shakes his head. “He must be speaking only to you,bacca.”
I glance at the warhorse again as I hold out my hand. He hesitates before pushing his nose into my palm, allowing me to rub it. “Do you think you could speak so they can hear too?”
The beast pauses in his rubbing, his red eyes focused on me.It has been so long since I have spoken out loud, little one. I do not know if I remember how to.
My fingers brush along his nose, along the softness of his hair there. Despite the terror his visage should elicit, he’s as soft as down feathers.
“There may be a bowl of stew in it for you if you try,” I promise, smiling gently. “I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re free to speak.”
Those red eyes blink.Stew does sound nice, he murmurs in my mind.This may take a moment, he warns as his hooves paw at the ground.
I go to move my hand back, but he snorts.
Will you keep your hand on me? On my chest? You . . . ground me.
“Of course,” I reply, moving my hand down his neck to his muscular chest, resting my fingers there. To Weyland and Kaito,I say, “He’s trying to remember how to speak out loud. He said it may take a few moments.”
We all watch as the warhorse closes his eyes and focuses on whatever memory he needs to recall. His chest is warm beneath my fingers, and his heart beats hard enough for me to feel it. He’s strong and fierce yet gentle as he shifts on his hooves. Whatever he is, he’s not a mindless beast, that much is clear.
