The Fault In Reality

Chapter Sixteen

Devany's hooves click against the road in time with my own shuffling steps. We walk with the lead rope loose between us, and a pleasant sense of companionship. The feather's at his hooves play a bouncing swish with the pavement. His coat creases with folds of light.

I don't know how long we've been walking, just that the sun is still high in the sky. I snag some nearby weeds and offer them to Devany. He takes them quietly. The sun pours down on us, drenching us with heat. My whole back is lathered with a fine sweat, and I shudder to think of Devany's condition. The cuts at legs have opened up and are oozing an ominous red. The dust that must no doubt be getting into his wounds further tickles at my nose and grits my eyes.

Devany watches me from half-lidded eyes. The weight of his gaze is comforting, I love the feeling of trust that warms my heart. But even so, the minutes of silence begin to gnaw at me. My thoughts slowly turn, against my will, to the memory of another a horse. An elegant, satin-coated Eclipse, prancing as I swing myself onto her back.

The sun snatching at my vision between the shadow of the rail... the dust of the arena shimmering softly in its sun baked state... the green leaves fluttering in the hold of their swishing canopy. And us, swinging over the ground. A lap of walk, and then the easy bounce of the trot. The jump in the middle of the arena seems to blare out its presence. Eclipse's ears curl towards it like a magnet to a fridge.

"Soon enough," I laugh. I collect myself, and she lengthens under me. My hips rock in the smooth roll of her canter. My leg automatically presses her around the corner, and then we're free to face the jump. It stands on its own, chipped and old and meaning the world to me.

To both of us.

Her hooves whisper over the dust, following each other in their relentless rhythm. Her mane flutters at my hands as I stretch myself into position. For a moment I balance without her; then she rises to meet me with the grace of a deer. We hang in the air for a delicious second, before plunging back over the ground.

A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me. We move together, me twitching seamless signals, her responding with eager fluidity.

Grey pulls over my world. I look up in surprise, dazed from the lingering reality of the memory. A car has rolled to a stop beside us, and to my relief a familiar face peers out. It's Pat, with Chase in the backseat. His face is wide with recognition, while Pat's looks pale and thin in contrast to her vibrant hair.

"Are you alright?" I ask her by way of greeting.

Hesitation shadows the lines of her face. She opens her mouth, ready to speak, but Chase interrupts her.

"It's nothing," he says. From the angle of his eyes and the narrowed look of his lips, I can tell he wants to say, nothing that's any of your business.

Pat tosses him a glance that pairs disapproval with sadness in a curious blend. She smiles thinly.

"I'm fine, Era. I just went to the clinic for some routine vaccinations and - well, I get a little faint around needles. Still not feeling myself, I'm afraid, but it seems you're quite a long way from the house."

I lift my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

"It's... complicated."

"Mm," says Pat. Her intelligent eyes sweep over my appearance, and Devany's. She pulls out her phone, and a few seconds later my father's voice crackles over speaker phone.

"No, I'm glad she got out of there with Devany - yeah, things turned pretty ugly. The condition of his horses are ridiculous, they were packed like sardines in a tiny corral..."

"Were?" Pat asks in puzzlement.

My scuffed sneakers are suddenly very interesting. I study them with rapt attention, trying to ignore Chase's pointed look.

"Era may or may not have set off a bit of a stampede. It's alright, though, they all stopped to graze at the hill. This gives Animal Welfare no excuse to wait before investigating..."

He and Pat exchange a few more words. I tune them out, hope rising. Perhaps the old mare will live to be some little girl's joy, after all.

"By the Turnwill Mill? No, don't worry, I'm only a few minutes away. I've got the trailer."

Pat murmurs something else, and then shuts her phone with a click. The deep circles under eyes attest to the weariness of her movements. I feel a twinge a guilt for, yet again, causing her trouble.

"We'll just have to wait a bit. Chase, get the sandwiches from the back, won't you?"

Chase obliges, launching himself over his seat with an obnoxious kick and resurfacing with an idyllic picnic basket.

I lean against Devany's velvet shoulder, breathing in the smell of horse. Pat unwraps four sandwiches, and swings the car door open. I take mine with a word of thanks, and bite hungrily into the ripe tomato and cheese filling.

After a while of chewing noisily, Devany gives a small snort. I offer him a loose leaf of lettuce and the crusts. He nibbles it, then nudges me with a nicker.

"I'm sorry, that's all there is," I say. Amusement flickers in me, then is smothered by Chase's gaze. He watches me, but to my surprise not with resentment or disdain. There's something almost like envy in his eyes. I realize he's seeing me and Devany together, without fear or uncertainty between us, for the first time.

"I want to continue helping," he says, all of a sudden. "With the riding thing. I'm sorry about Annie, really I am. She didn't mean to do anything wrong, I should have just told her."

I study him carefully. The look in his eyes is earnest, genuine. So are his words. But uncertainty trills a warning in my brain. I turn to Devany, taking in his turned ears and soft eyes. Making up my mind in a jumbled instant, I cluck gently.

Devany steps towards Chase, who meets him with an upturned palm. Chase tries to rub Devany's forelock, but the black horse snorts and throws his head. Chase refuses to take offence. He stands quietly, and Devany eventually lowers his nose against the outstretched hand.

For a while the two get acquainted, with nudging and nickering and stroking. The sight of the big black horse next to wiry Chase draws an unexpected giggle from me.

Both boy and horse turn to look at me with identical expression of shock. Did she just laugh? is plain in their eyes. My lips twitch and so do my hands. Devany withdraws from Chase at the slightest pressure from the lead, but he does so with a gentle respect, not a trace of hastiness to be found.

Pat shuffles around in the car, not paying us a single ounce of attention. Chase looks at her over his shoulder, then steps closer to me.

"Era," he says tentatively, "why don't you ride?"

I freeze. Devany ducks his head to nibble at the meager grass growing in a ditch.

"You know the riders who leave welts in their horse's mouth, and bruises at their horse's ribs?" I eventually say. "The kind that beats with a whip and kicks with some spurs."

Chase nods.

"Look at Devany." He does. "See how nice and glossy his neck is?"

Another nod.

"Imagine that snapped. Now look at his legs. Imagine those dislocated and splayed over the road, bent and broken. Imagine his eyes rolled in white, maybe not rolled at all. Imagine his squealing in pain, or even suffering in silence. Imagine all those muscles deflated to a pulp at the foot of some idiot's heel."

Chase is utterly silent. A breeze flicks at my hair, blowing a single strand across my face.

"That's why I don't ride. Don't you see? What I did was worse than the farthest stretches of cruelty."