Page 42 of The Tenth Muse

That makes him smile, at least. I told him stories of the dryad he’s named after whenever his father wasn’t there to hear.

The one time I took him to meet her, he was too young to remember … and the punishment his father had meted out was too cruel to risk taking him there again.

I smile down at my hooves, even though there’s no one here to explain why I laugh at the thought of him … buried beneath the manure pile instead of where the horseshoe was driven into the ground by his sire.

He looks away from me, away from the farm, south, toward Petalfall. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

“Not this time.”

He nods. Centaurs are not ones for drawn out conversation.

“Then I suppose I’ll wish you safe travels and tell you I hope you find the peace he never let you have.”

I stamp my foot without meaning to.

Thatat least, I’ve fixed before I left.

“Don’t let them start it again.”

“Never.” He places his hand over his heart and dips his head. “It will be difficult, but I will try to live up to the example you set.”

Shifting on all four feet, I tell him, “It won’t be hard. Just remember every little thing I ever taught you and forget everything Gora did.”

I raised him well enough. I trust they won’t stray into the ugly habits of our predecessors.

“That will be tough … who’ll do the plowing?”

Swatting another fly with my tail, I shake my head at him and turn to go. “Iamthe one who taught you how to plow a field.”

He chuckles, because he knows. But he doesn’t stay behind. He walks with me to the end of the lane.

Our hooves clop on the cobbles in a familiar pattern. It’s awkward and I hate every second of it, but my bags are packed, slung over my back, and I cannot stay another day in this wretched place.

Thirty-two years.It has taken me three decades and more to leave this place.

As soon as we’re off the cobbled path, Fennryn stops and pulls a shoeing hook from his belt. “I figured you wouldn’t need those anymore. You can leave them behind and I’ll make sure they’re put to good use.”

It’s been a very long time since I’ve gone unshod. It is another kind of freedom.

I step onto the hook of the bar and look him in the eye. “Melt these ones down. I don’t want anyone else forced to wear them.”

He agrees with a dip of his head.

The awful iron comes free from my hooves with an easy tug and I sigh with the relief of it.

No more shoes or rocky paths. There is a meadow calling me.

Fennryn collects them and takes a deep breath. He tenses his jaw and I know what the next three words are before he says them.

“I love you, Mom.”

His sire hated those words.

Three little words he never earned from anyone and never wanted anyone else to say to those who did deserve them.

“I love you.” The words, this close to that place, are still hard to say.

“If you ever need to come back, for any reason, know that you will have a place waiting for you, for however long or short you want to stay.”

---