Maura’s home? I couldn’t infringe on her hospitality too long.
The palomino I was grooming rubbed her face against me, as if she could sense my sadness. The liquid warmth and intelligence of her eyes made me smile. I stroked her nose.
We both shied when Devin appeared out of nowhere.
“Sorry,” he said, a little gruffly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Maura sent me to help you out, but I see that you are done.”
“All clean,” I said, cheerfully, dusting off my jeans. “Though I’m covered in wool and horse hair. I don’t know how Maura stays so clean.”
Devin quirked a shoulder, looking past me. He seemed uncomfortable, for some reason.
The mare I had been grooming nudged him with her nose and he gave her an absent pat, a carrot appearing in his hand as if by magic, and just as quickly disappearing down her gullet.
“Well,” Devin said, briskly, turning toward me, “I suppose they need some exercise. Let’s tack them up and hit the trail.”
He turned his back on me to go to the shed. I frowned to myself. I didn’t know Devin at all, but he seemed to be borderline rude. I hoped I hadn’t done anything offensive. I sniffed at my shirt and made a face. Maybe he was just disgusted by the layers of filth I had all over me.
Horses quickly saddled, we headed off, I on the palomino, Devin on a rangy chestnut gelding that looked a bit like the love child of a moose crossed with a thoroughbred, with his long face, roman nose, and knobby knees. I knew, from grooming him, that he had quite a character. Sure enough, the first thing he did with Devin on his back was to spin on his hindquarters and send Devin flying into the dirt.
I stifled a laugh as Devin climbed to his feet, unhurt and smiling wryly. In seconds he was back in the saddle and prepared for the row of crow-hops the gelding put him through.
Devin grimaced. “You need to get out more. I’ve been neglecting you.”
My mount was gentle and sweet. She carried me like I was made of glass. Devin kept shooting looks at her and shaking his head.
“What?” I demanded, finally.
He quirked his lips into something akin to a smile. “She’s being so good for you. Usually she’s a pain in the…” He paused as she pinned her ears back at him. “See what I mean?”
I stroked her neck. “She’s so sweet! I don’t believe you. You must just rub her the wrong way.”
He gave me an oddly dark look. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, but I heard him mutter something like “selkie” and “glamour”. I glared at him. His attitude was really starting to tick me off, and that usually took a lot.
“Well excuse me, Mr. Too Big For His Britches. It’s not like I learned I was half selkie yesterday or anything! If you’ve got a problem with me, why don’t you just say so?”
He had the decency to flush. “It’s not like that.”
My mare bared her teeth at him and he scowled.
“What is it, then?” I demanded. “How can I fix it if I don’t freaking know what’s wrong?”
His brows drew together and his eyes bored into mine. “It’s nothing you can fix,” he said finally.
“Great,” I huffed. “What, are you anti-selkie or something? What is that, racism?”
He ignored me and pointed down the trail I supposed we were heading down.
We rode through the tundra-esque trees and up a steep slope, where the sea of grass seemed to stretch on and on until it dropped off into the sea. Far in the distance, I could make out steep cliffs and ledges. It was wild, furious, and absolutely breath-taking.
“Why Trinity?” I shouted to Devin, against the sudden wind. “What’s here?”
Devin shaded his eyes. “The gate,” he shouted back. “It’s very thin here. We’re in one of the last wild places, but there’s more to it. For some reason, Trinity is an apex, a place where fairy
The palomino I was grooming rubbed her face against me, as if she could sense my sadness. The liquid warmth and intelligence of her eyes made me smile. I stroked her nose.
We both shied when Devin appeared out of nowhere.
“Sorry,” he said, a little gruffly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Maura sent me to help you out, but I see that you are done.”
“All clean,” I said, cheerfully, dusting off my jeans. “Though I’m covered in wool and horse hair. I don’t know how Maura stays so clean.”
Devin quirked a shoulder, looking past me. He seemed uncomfortable, for some reason.
The mare I had been grooming nudged him with her nose and he gave her an absent pat, a carrot appearing in his hand as if by magic, and just as quickly disappearing down her gullet.
“Well,” Devin said, briskly, turning toward me, “I suppose they need some exercise. Let’s tack them up and hit the trail.”
He turned his back on me to go to the shed. I frowned to myself. I didn’t know Devin at all, but he seemed to be borderline rude. I hoped I hadn’t done anything offensive. I sniffed at my shirt and made a face. Maybe he was just disgusted by the layers of filth I had all over me.
Horses quickly saddled, we headed off, I on the palomino, Devin on a rangy chestnut gelding that looked a bit like the love child of a moose crossed with a thoroughbred, with his long face, roman nose, and knobby knees. I knew, from grooming him, that he had quite a character. Sure enough, the first thing he did with Devin on his back was to spin on his hindquarters and send Devin flying into the dirt.
I stifled a laugh as Devin climbed to his feet, unhurt and smiling wryly. In seconds he was back in the saddle and prepared for the row of crow-hops the gelding put him through.
Devin grimaced. “You need to get out more. I’ve been neglecting you.”
My mount was gentle and sweet. She carried me like I was made of glass. Devin kept shooting looks at her and shaking his head.
“What?” I demanded, finally.
He quirked his lips into something akin to a smile. “She’s being so good for you. Usually she’s a pain in the…” He paused as she pinned her ears back at him. “See what I mean?”
I stroked her neck. “She’s so sweet! I don’t believe you. You must just rub her the wrong way.”
He gave me an oddly dark look. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, but I heard him mutter something like “selkie” and “glamour”. I glared at him. His attitude was really starting to tick me off, and that usually took a lot.
“Well excuse me, Mr. Too Big For His Britches. It’s not like I learned I was half selkie yesterday or anything! If you’ve got a problem with me, why don’t you just say so?”
He had the decency to flush. “It’s not like that.”
My mare bared her teeth at him and he scowled.
“What is it, then?” I demanded. “How can I fix it if I don’t freaking know what’s wrong?”
His brows drew together and his eyes bored into mine. “It’s nothing you can fix,” he said finally.
“Great,” I huffed. “What, are you anti-selkie or something? What is that, racism?”
He ignored me and pointed down the trail I supposed we were heading down.
We rode through the tundra-esque trees and up a steep slope, where the sea of grass seemed to stretch on and on until it dropped off into the sea. Far in the distance, I could make out steep cliffs and ledges. It was wild, furious, and absolutely breath-taking.
“Why Trinity?” I shouted to Devin, against the sudden wind. “What’s here?”
Devin shaded his eyes. “The gate,” he shouted back. “It’s very thin here. We’re in one of the last wild places, but there’s more to it. For some reason, Trinity is an apex, a place where fairy
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