Storm Surge by R. J. Blain

claim her as his own,” Kalen retorted, his anger driving away his pain. It gave his voice a hard edge. “That is called theft.”
    The woman stepped back, although her strange mount stood its ground. “I would have confirmed who owned her, of course!”
    Kalen arched his brows. “As you did with me?”
    The woman gawked at him. She froze, her mouth opening and closing as though she wanted to say something but she couldn’t force a single word out. While she floundered, Kalen took the time to try to identify why her mount bothered him.
    Was it the color? Honey’s coat was unusual in its vibrant golden hue. Were such animals more common in Kelsh? The animal regarded him with a calm and steady gaze, sharp in its contrast with its flustered rider.
    The woman finally stammered, “She is your horse, is she not?”
    “She is.”
    ~Truth,~ a feminine voice whispered in his head. There was a distance to the sound, as though the speaker hadn’t meant for him to hear her.
    His eyes widened. The hum of a conversation he couldn’t understand buzzed in his ears. The woman’s mount turned its head to regard its rider.
    “Who are you?” he asked, tensing. His mare ceased toying with his foot to face the woman and her beast.
    The Kelshite stepped forward, her posture straight and chin lifted. “My name is Tala. And yours?”
    There was something familiar about the woman’s name. He frowned and tried to remember what. Was it a common name among Kelshites? “Kalen,” he replied.
    Tala made a low, displeased noise. “Will you not thank me for returning your horse?”
    His mare snorted. Kalen thought it was a wonderfully equine blend of disgust and amazement at the woman’s audacity. “She would have come without your help.” The truth of his words warmed him. Clenching his teeth against the pain the motion caused, he patted his mare’s proudly arched neck. “Why do you speak strangely?”
    Blurting out the question out startled him, and judging from the way the woman jerked, it had an impact on her as well.
    “How rude!”
    “Was I?” Kalen matched his mare’s snort with one of his own. “You should be grateful I didn’t assume you were stealing my horse.”
    ~Truth,~ the feminine voice once again whispered in his head. Kalen remembered others who spoke to him in such a fashion, though his memory failed to produce who—or what—was triggering his recognition. Deciding his headache was to blame, he lowered his hand to where his sword should have hung at his side. Annoyance at himself outweighed his irritation with the woman.
    “You are overly concerned with horse theft,” Tala snapped. “I was not trying to take your mare.”
    “That is a good thing as the punishment for horse theft is quite severe, and I would personally send you and your beast to the deeps if you had made such an attempt.”
    His blurred vision didn’t hide the way the woman’s face paled.
    ~Truth,~ the voice said, stunned. Her voice intensified the pounding in his skull. Kalen considered the two and decided the mount was the most likely culprit. With anger and pain fueling his glare, he focused all of his attention on the animal.
    It— she —looked away.
    He didn’t know why the creature infuriated him, but it kept him sitting upright in the saddle despite wanting to slide to the ground, curl in a ball, and sleep until he didn’t hurt quite so much.
    The thought of lying down brought back the memory of staring up at the trees, his entire body aching. Realization slammed into him and his annoyance crumbled to disbelief. He couldn’t have fallen from his horse, could he? Why else would he have hurt so much? It was impossible. He wouldn’t have fallen from his Honey’s back.
    Her name brought with it a flood of memories, and Kalen shook his head in his effort to make sense of it all. He did remember riding Honey as they fled from some unknown threat. He didn’t remember falling.
    Judging from the lump on the back of his head and the