Page 175 of Sigils & Spells

I was lost in thought, and when the door at the end of the stables slammed open and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Or... literally jumped out of my skin.

Everything was wrong. One instant I was standing, waiting for the stable-hand, the next I was too tall, I could see too much, and my limbs felt stronger. I stumbled, and made a sound that would have been a gasp if I’d still had my human lips.

Instead, I neighed. God dammit! I was a horse. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn’t be a horse now, I had things to do. I tried to turn back into a person, not that I knew how to do that. This was my first time really knowing what was happening Damn it! So, instead. I tried to feel it. I closed my eyes and felt my bones, my flank, my tail that swished and whipped almost out of my control.

I whipped around, slamming my back end into a post and letting out a deafening whiny that should have been “God damn it.”

The younger stable-hand that had burst through the door blinked at me. “woah, boy, what are you doing out?”

He put up a hand like he thought that would ward me off and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, never taking his eyes off me. I stopped moving, breathing hard through my huge nostrils. I could feel my tail and my ears twitching.

Turn back into a person! Turn back into a person. Now…. and…. Now!

It didn’t matter how many times I thought “now” I still remained a horse.

“Hey, Dary, one of the horses is out without any tack. I need you to get down here.”

I heard a garbled voice on the other end say something. The stable-hand looked around. “No, I don't see him. He must have just let this guy out and left. Jackass.”

My first thought was, oh no, now they think I’m rude.

I remembered tack from Minho using horse lingo. It meant like bridles and halters and saddles–the stuff that made a horse rideable.

Oh my god. Of course they thought I was a rodeo horse. What else would they think? Only a few seconds passed before the other stable-hand appeared by the first man’s side.

He whistled. “I don’t recognize him. That’s a big ass horse. Must be new.”

“Blaze mentioned he was thinking about getting some new broncos. Someone must have been getting him for the next show.”

“Alright. Help me saddle him up and we can get him ready to go.”

I took a step back, snorting again. I didn’t want to be in a bronc ride, especially not as the horse. I wanted to watch Minho do his first bronc ride. I didn’t want to be his first bronc ride.

“Easy, boy,” the first man said in a gentle voice.

My instinct to jerk away, sent me rearing into the air, another distressed snort escaping my lips. My hooves went down hard, and I saw the man skitter away from me. I was huge. I’d forgotten. Huge and dangerous. I took a deep breath to try and calm my heart that galloped wildly in my chest. I didn’t want to hurt either man.

“That Song kid’s the one that’s gonna ride this beast?” The first man said, stepping up on one of my sides, patting my neck comfortingly. I stood as still as I could, nostrils flaring. “Not jealous.”

“What’s his name?” the second man asked, pulling the gear off the wall.

“I don’t know.” He patted me again. “If he’s new maybe Blaze’ll let us name ‘im.”

I have a name, I thought grumpily. I don’t want a horse name. I can’t be a rodeo horse. I’m not trained for this. I didn’t graduate from horse school, I just got here.

They threw names back and forth as they saddled me, securing a thick braided rope that wrapped around my girth and back. Names like Stormfall, Thunderhoof, and Lighting. Which told me two things. For one, I was probably a gray horse if they were so hooked on storm imagery, and two, these stable-hands had read too much Warrior Cats as kids.

“He’s being awful calm.” The second man frowned as he pulled gently on my bridle once they finished. I followed as slowly as I could, barely moving my muscles. “Is he going to be enough of a bucker for this?”

“Must be.”

Don’t kill them, don’t kill them, don’t kill them. I had too much body. There was so much more of me than I was used to.

I huffed and stopped walking. What if I accidentally killed Minho? If he was going to ride me, I didn’t want to be responsible. Hmmm… and then, even if I didn’t kill him, once I turned back into a person I’d have to acknowledge that he… had…. ridden me. Oh, God, I was going to have to say those words out loud and neither of us would ever live it down. Oh god.

I pulled back on the bridle a little, but a solid yank from the man forced me to follow. I followed him down the narrow hallway, towards the bucking shoots. We were under the stands. dust rattled down around us as the hundreds of feet stomped and voices cheered for whatever show was on now.

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