He walked to the stream and filled his waterskin with cool water. Standing up, he wrapped the binding around the neck of the dripping skin.
He absently looked along the line of trees that followed the stream. His eyes paused at movement on the other side. Flashes of color and sparkle dazzled his eyes. Frowning, he looked back at Saleth. The elf was watching him steadily. Owen looked back toward the other side of the trees. He stepped across the stream, using the stones that were placed to create a path. He couldn’t remember if they had been there when he’d filled the waterskin or not.
He shook his head and pinched his wrist. Yes, he was awake.
HeartStriker, is this real?
As real as you are, the sword answered quietly.
Owen reached the other side of the creek. Pushing through the last edge of brush and trees, he stopped in astonishment.
“Ah…” the breath escaped him in absolute wonder.
White horses whose coats shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight filled the grasslands on the other side of the trees.
No, they were not horses and they weren’t white. The sun struck every color from those glittering coats. It was as if diamonds covered them. These beings were more slender than any horse though they stood as tall as his charger. Their eyes were huge. Delicate ears swiveled constantly on a head that looked more goat than horse. Their babies bounced and hopped among the grazers.
The movement of a large body pushing through the brush could not turn him from what he watched. Navar joined him at the edge of the trees. Navar snorted.
At his sound, every head jerked up and around in his direction. The creatures flowed together, babies in the center of the group, wary adults facing what they perceived as a threat.
Fairy mounts, used for the Great Hunt, Navar told him, dismissal in his tone. They would eat you as quick as look at you.
No, they would not, responded HeartStriker. They sense the magic in his blood and in me. Walk forward, Owen.
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