Page 73 of My Queendom for a Horse

He stops moving, his eyes looking somehow more hurt while in a horse head than they did even as a man.

“Once we win this race, I’m going to have enough to pay the next balloon note. I won’t have paid Sean back yet, but I doubt he’ll notify anyone that my collateral went missing. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think it’ll be time for you to go.”

He’s utterly and completely still, like midnight over a lake, like an onyx statue in a museum, like the beginning of an exam in a difficult class. No movement. No snorting or pawing. No reaction at all.

I hope that means he’s processing what I’ve said.

“Let’s head back,” I say.

He doesn’t argue, but he also doesn’t walk close to me, not anymore.

Great. Now the horse and the man are both pouting.

I’m honestly, deep in my bones, trying to do the right thing, so no matter how bad I feel about hurting his feelings, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me, I don’t take any of my words back. It’ll be best for both of us if we can go our separate ways. Fairy tales aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. I mean, powers and shifting and whatnot exists, but so do curses and being buried in the earth and stuck as a horse forever.

I like things safe, simple, and predictable. I want that life back.

But when I go to bed that night, I think about Aleks’ face when I shifted him back to human and left a laptop on the dirty old table. He stared at me like I’d given up.

Like I quit.

Liepas aren’t quitters. We just know when we’ve already lost. I need to explain that to him. I need to make sure he understands that what I’m doing is what’s best for both of us. I wish I didn’t care, but I know that I won’t be able to sleep until I have cleared that up.

Only, when I get to the barn, he’s not there.

I wander around a bit. I call for him over and over, and I wait for an hour before falling asleep, my head on my arms, slumped over the table.

A strange noise wakes me up, but once my mind clears from sleep, I can’t for the life of me recall what the noise was. I stretch, check to confirm there’s still no sign of Aleks, and reluctantly return to my bedroom. I hope he’s alright, but at the end of the day, he’s a grown man. If he’s decided he can go where he wants without telling me about it, well, that’s what I told him to do, isn’t it?

The next day goes almost the same way. Aleks is back, but he doesn’t offer an explanation as to where he was, so I don’t tell him I even know he was gone. I shift him into Obsidian, we do a light workout—no jumps today. I want him to rest for the race—and then later in the day, I shift him back into a man. This time, I change him before I even go to do my house calls. He may as well have some normal daylight hours as a human. Especially if he’s about to be human full time.

When I return a few hours later to check on him, he’s gone again.

I know it’s for the best, but it hurts a little bit. It’s probably because he felt like a baby bird to me when we first met. He hadn’t been in the world for so long, and he needed my guidance so much, and now he doesn’t seem to need me at all.

He’s learned to fly.

The next day goes almost the same way, and then it’s time to leave. John and my dad are much more stressed about the whole thing than I am. I’m legitimately worried about Eduards, as John grills him about what he needs to do for the horses while we’re gone.

“It’s fine,” I say eventually. “Eduards has been doing this for years. He knows as much as you do.”

John’s fits almost make up for Obsidian Devil’s abnormally calm behavior. He doesn’t snort, paw, whinny, or snap at anyone. And he lets John load him into the trailer.

“He’s like a different horse,” John says.

We work for months, no, more like years to truly ‘break’ a horse. A broke horse is a good thing. It means they’re calm, they trust their rider, and they want to please you. It means you can rely on them to behave the way that you order them to behave. It makes them safe, and it makes them valuable.

Humans, unlike horses, shouldn’t be broken. They need spirit, and resolve, and confidence. They need to have faith in their own decisions and their own desires. Looking at the way Obsidian is behaving? John and my dad think it’s a miracle, but. . .

I worry that I broke him.

I meant well, at least. I was trying to help us both live the best lives we could. I keep telling myself that, all the way to England. We’re a full day early, thanks to my unease. I just drive, and drive, and drive.

I decide to text Sean. I’M SURE YOU’RE BUSY. IT IS CHRISTMAS EVE. BUT WE’RE HERE, EARLY.

I don’t have to wait more than ten seconds. COME SEE ME. One second later, he texts again. ACTUALLY, I’LL COME GET YOU.

I laugh. I NEED TO GET OBSIDIAN AND ABOUT FACE OUT ON THE TRACK TO ACCLIMATE THEM. GIVE ME THREE HOURS.

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