Page 15 of Dragon Slayer

Hold, release, hold, release. Abs, outside rein, seat, leg…

Almost. It wobbled. The shape was right, even the steps, but it was too big. Not tight and clean enough.

“That was too big,” Donna called.

“Yeah,” Mia panted.

“Again.”

She gave it three more tries, then Donna sent her off to do an extended trot down the center line – Brando had beautiful extensions, with incredible reach and flipped toes, and he knew it, too. He swiveled his ears and snorted in obvious pride when they reached the rail and turned.

Mia laughed, patted his neck, and slowed him to a walk. That was one of Donna’s fixed rules: always end on a good note. Always do something last that the horse does well. She was convinced they all had egos and, well, she wasn’t wrong.

Mia let the reins slide through her fingers and walked down the long side of the arena to her trainer.

Donna had a water bottle in one hand for Mia, and a sugar cube in the other hand for Brando. “It’s coming along,” she said. “Next time we’ll try to spiral into it from a ten-meter circle. All the mechanics are there, it’s just not confirmed.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Donna patted her knee, a rare show of physical affection. “You’ll get there.” Then she tipped her head back and peered up at Mia through her sunglasses. “How are you doing today?” she asked, tone softer and more concerned than Mia had ever heard. It was disconcerting.

“I…why?” Mia blurted. She gripped the water bottle too tightly and felt it bend between her fingers.

Donna studied her a long, inscrutable moment, eyes hidden behind dark lenses. “Just checking,” she finally said, and drew back.

Mia thought she’d acted normally today…but maybe not.

~*~

She caught up with Val later, after she’d cooled down and then bathed Brando. She walked the big bay out to hand-graze him in an open patch of grass behind the barn, and Val ambled over from his place at one of the picnic tables.

He looked almost sickly up close: skin sallow, eyes smudged with shadows, the whole image of him unsteady, flickering at the edges.

Her pulse skipped. “Val, what’s wrong?”

He turned to look at Brando, wet flanks gleaming in the evening light. He lifted a hand and laid it against Brando’s side – tried to. He let it hover there, half-in and half-out, tangled vapors.

Brando lifted his head and snorted, twisted his head around and looked right at Val, eyes white-rimmed.

“Shh,” Val whispered.

Brando waited another moment, then flicked his tail and resumed grazing.

“I’m tired, I guess,” Val said, voice soft. “I’ve never dream-walked for an entire day like this. Well,” he amended. “Not in a long time.” He lifted his head and looked at her with flagging eyelids. “I had to leave, in the middle of the day. They brought my meal and woke me.” Pained smile. “I came back.”

“Yeah.” She wanted to touch him, press her hand to his forehead and see if he felt as feverish as he looked. “Do you need to…um, wake up? I guess? Or go back?”

“I do. Soon.” He blinked slow, swayed on his feet. Made an effort to look her in the eye and force a trembling grin. “Thank you for showing me this place. It’s wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.” It felt like the absolute least she could do. Insufficient.

“You ride beautifully.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mia.” He bowed, and was gone.

She let out a deep breath. “Bye, Val.”

---