The Undead Pool

I couldn’t help my smile. “Thanks,” I said softly. Home. She had said home, not the church, and that felt really good. “Ivy, tell Nina that it’s all worth it. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The click was loud, and I noted the time before I closed the phone and tucked it into a pocket. I liked Trent’s stables. The air was always sweet smelling from fresh hay, and the air circulation was top-notch. Concerned, I pushed up and away from the saddles. Maybe Trent was just brushing the horse out.

“Red, right?” I said as I came forward, emboldened when the young horse flicked a friendly ear my way.

Trent smiled at me from inside the large box stall. “Right. Come on in.”

He was wearing the same corporate-logoed coat I was, having changed into boots, jeans, and a thick shirt. There was a knit hat on his head, and I watched the horse, not Trent, as I lifted the latch, and Trent dipped under Red’s neck to stand on her other side.

She was even more magnificent when close up, and I couldn’t help but touch her, feeling her warmth and guessing at the speed she must be capable of. “My God, she’s beautiful,” I said softly, and Trent smiled at the horse—not me—freeing me to study the way his eyes crinkled.

“Isn’t she? I’m riding her tonight.” He smiled, patting her shoulder. “You can ride Tulpa. Your English seat has gotten good the last couple of months.”

“Yeah, but—” I hesitated. “You were training her to race,” I said, and then what he had really said sunk in. He’s going to let me ride his horse?

Trent lifted a shoulder and let it fall, the brush making a soft hush of sound. “Ceri was right. She’s not meant for the track, and she’s not seen one since the afternoon Ceri . . . was taken. I’m going to give her to one of the girls when they get older. Ray, maybe, but Red’s got a lot of bad manners to unlearn before then. Carlton’s been working extensively with her to shift her signals and she’s responding well, though she still explodes when given her head.”

Nodding, I flipped part of her mane to the other side. “I didn’t think you could switch a horse from track to western.”

“Carlton can do anything,” he murmured.

“And I’m on Tulpa?” I asked, and I pursed my lips when he nodded. The horse was friendly enough, but he was Trent’s familiar. “Can’t I just ride Molly?”

“Molly!” Trent eyed me over Red’s withers. “You were the one who said I never gave you a horse you could win with. Besides, Molly hasn’t been desensitized to the lines. Grab a brush, will you? Red’s a big girl.”

Flustered, I looked over the stall until I found one. The wood was smooth in my grip, the bristles stiff. Red flicked an ear when I gently brushed her, and emboldened, I pressed harder.

“You don’t think you can take a horse through the lines and not freak them out of their flaky horse skulls, do you?” Trent said, a faint blush on his pointy ears. “After riding down Ku’Sox, I realized how big the hole in my security is, and since then I’ve been training my coursers to ride willingly through a line. Tulpa won’t spaz out under you. Red, though . . .” He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “She’s young.”

And flaky to begin with, I thought, and from down the hall, Landon snorted, turning it into a cough. Peeved, I gave him a dark look, having forgotten how well elves could hear.

For a moment, there was silence as we worked. Trent finished his side and tossed his brush across the hall to a basket. “Is . . . Tulpa okay?” he asked. “I can put you on another horse if you’re unsure.”

The hesitance in his voice caught at me, and my breath came fast.

“Trent!” came faintly through the stables, and Trent’s smile faded at Bancroft’s voice raised in annoyance. “I need some help with this wicked beast!”

But I was still lost in the thought that he wanted me to ride Tulpa. “Tulpa is fine.”

“Good.” Trent slid out of the stall and latched the door behind him. “Because Bancroft hardly knows the front from the back. I’ll get him ready for you. Can you saddle Red for me?”

He trusted me to saddle his horse, and knowing what that meant, I nodded.

“Thanks.” Smiling, Trent walked away, and Red’s ears pricked as he shouted to Bancroft that he was coming. Landon watched him as he went by, and I wondered at that sly look of his. “What a baby you are!” I exclaimed softly to Red as I fondled her ears. “Such a sweet thing. I don’t blame you for snapping at the nasty little men with their nasty little whips and caps.” She snorted, matching my pitch, and I fell in love with her.

“Whips and little caps not your thing?”

Landon’s voice startled me and Red nickered. “Hi.” I put a hand to my face, then dropped it.

He brought his eyes back from the empty corridor, Trent’s voice still echoing down it. “I appreciate you agreeing to do this. I know you have other obligations.”