Chapter Eleven

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When the horses were first led out to us, I did a double-take. There's no way these are horses, I thought with uncertainty. They couldn't be. But everything about them was the same as back home—except for the horns. Each animal sported a pair of small antlers, like those found on white-tailed deer.

"What are they?" I asked Leihalani as a soldier with moss-green hair brought a dappled rose-grey mare up to me.

"Sághas," she said, swinging up into the saddle of her tall bay stallion. Unlike the mares meant for Rachael and I, the stallion's horns were massive, elklike things. They gleamed like polished wood in the noon sun, each point honed to a sharp peak.

"Does mine have a name?" Rachael asked the soldier holding the reins to her chestnut mare.

"Cythra, lady," he replied. "Do you require help mounting?"

"Nope! I got this!" I watched as Rachael swung up into the saddle with ease, grinning the whole time. Showoff. "Could you take my picture? I gotta show this to my friends when we get home."

The soldier's eyebrow rose, perplexed, as my cousin extended her cell phone to him. "Take your picture, my lady?"

"He doesn't know what that is, Rach," I said, gesturing at her furiously. "Put it away. Why did you even bring your phone, anyway? There's no way to charge it here." God only knew if she could get service—wherever the hell we were. That's why I had left mine at home, although I felt naked without it.

Rachael rolled her eyes, but tucked the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. "Jenna put an extender charm on it last week," she told me, naming a friend of hers who was a witch. "The battery will last for weeks."

Sighing, I slowly shook my head. Really, what did it matter to me if she had it? As long as she kept our low profile beyond the guard station, she could take as many selfies as she wanted.

"Do you need a hand up, my lady?"

I turned to the moss-haired soldier and the dreaded task of getting up on my own mare. "Yes, please. I've never ridden before."

The soldier smiled and I found myself blushing. Please don't tell me that all of these elven guys are stupidly handsome, I grumbled, turning to face the mare instead. I didn't think I could take it.

"Grab the pommel and put your left foot into the stirrup, my lady," the soldier instructed. "I'll help you swing up."

"Pommel?" I raked the saddle from end to end, but didn't see anything that fit the word.

"This," the elven soldier said, reaching up to tap the rounded front of the saddle.

"Oh." I appreciated the fact that if the mare came to an abrupt halt, I wouldn't be impaled in the stomach. "Okay. How do I get up again?"

With infinite patience, the soldier managed to get my uncoordinated ass into the saddle. He walked around the mare and fit my right foot into the other stirrup, giving me tips on how to control the horse at the same time. I nodded as he spoke, but I was only half-listening. The thoughts that plagued my nighttime hours returned with a vengeance: Where were we going? How long would it take us to get there? What would happen if we were discovered?

"Thanks," I murmured distractedly as he stepped away. Just then, the mare decided to shift; unprepared as I was, I jerked to the side. Panic flooded me as I dropped the reins and scrabbled for a hold on the pommel.

The soldier's hands snaked out and he guided me back to center. After properly putting the reins back into my hands, he said, "And you must remember to hold on with your legs, as well. Otherwise, you'll fall off."

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