Shadowkill

3

By the time Shadith left the infirmary, the worst of the afternoon heat was over. The air smelled of dust and smoke, but the wind sweeping in off the mountains was damp and almost cool in comparison to the swelter of high heat. She found a hat, pulled it down to shade her eyes and wandered out to the paddocks east of the Kuysstead.

The Jinasu had the Kuyyot horses out for the first time in weeks; they were playing with them, riding bareback, racing them, joying with them in the return of their freedom to run.

Shadith climbed the fence, sat on the top rail with her feet hooked behind the rail below. She spent a while enjoying their enjoyment, it was a splendid antidote to the pain and boredom in the infirmary; then she swung the arranga off her back, began improvising to the beat of the horses’ hooves, the high fluting laughter of the Jinasu.

They danced the horses to the music, black and gray and roan, pinto and bay, a mosaic of color and shape, necks arching, manes and tails swinging in the wind.

Jhapuki rode over to her, sat on the big black smoothing her hand along his neck, scratching through his mane. “Wanna ride?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Done it before?”

“Yeh. Was years ago, though.”

“Any good?”

“Not bad.”

Jhapuki twisted her body around. “Ommla, get the bay gelding, the rocking chair, huh?”