to spend a little more time with him. But yeah, seeing where the scary alien horses live sounds especially neat. “Sure!”
Bash uses a toss of his horn to indicate a wagon up ahead. “We’ll take that team.” Bash shouts to the driver, who stops and hops down to let Bash take his place. The driver is a hob, and he moves to the other side of the wagon where he helps a human woman down.
It’s seeing her that causes the flash of recognition to hit me. This woman and this hob were driving the wagon with the alien horse I met on my first day here.
I swing my head to the three horses to find the golden coated animal out of the bunch is already watching me. I jump back. “AHH, I know you! You’re the arm taster!”
The animal’s muscles bunch, and if it weren’t for the tongue of the wagon having a tiny chain that extends to its harness, I think it would lunge for me. Sure, it might meet resistance if the other two animals hitched to the wagon don’t want to turn on me with this one, but they’re starting to look hungry too.
“Calm yourself,” Bash growls.
“I’m trying! But he looks like he still wants to take a bite—”
“I’m talking to the Narwari,” Bash says, shooting me a glance before catching the animal by its funny antler and giving the creature a quelling look. “You don’t eat this human.”
I hold up a concerned finger. “Has he eaten other humans?”
Bash ignores me, but the snake-horse rolls one eye in my direction and licks its fanged chops.
I shudder.
“Get on the bench, Isla,” Bash instructs, and with a wary look at the pair, particularly the horse, I clamber up the steps and take a seat.
Bash causes the wagon to tilt and rock as he joins me, plunking his butt down on the bench, his tailblade clunking to the floor at my feet. He flicks the reins and makes a distinctly alien click, producing the sound out of his hollow-sounding nose.
The three animals take this as an order to hoof it up the ramp.
We exit the quarry by way of the ramp, following the train of carts. We cross a bridge, the sound of hooves making me a little giddy. “This is fun!” I toss a happy grin in Bash’s direction, so lost in the strange joy of riding in this old fashioned method of transport that I miss the reaction Bash has to my smile.
He stomps his foot down hard on his tail, which makes me realize it was starting to wind its way around my foot.
“Sorry,” he says gruffly, reaching down and jerking it from me, tossing it to his side of the floorboards with all the concern the average person shows for a grass snake that’s snuck into the house.
I shrug. “It’s no problem.”
We seem to be moving a little slower than the other wagons, which is strange because our Narwari are tossing their heads (and looking back at me, and licking their chops) and acting like they’re raring to go. But the slightly more sedate pace allows me the chance to take in the scenery. Wagon wheels have left impressions in the soft sand that forms a path once we reach the end of the bridge. I stare at the dirt, examining the cloven hoof prints that tell the tale of many Narwari treading here. There are also three-toed soft-pad prints, which are from Rakhii. And there are boot prints, because hobs wear boots like humans.
On either side of the path, grass springs up. This grass is not like our grass from Earth. Sure, it’s long, stalk-y, and animals can probably eat it. But each strand of grass has a tiny round globe on the very tip. It makes it look decorative. Why that itty bitty addition should be significant, I can’t even explain, but it turns the field into a wonderland. “This is beautiful,” I breathe.
Bash grunts beside me. Agreement, as far as I can tell.
I’ve heard that the Narwari barn sits between the presently-worked quarry and the original quarry, on a wide swath of pasture land. The space between the quarries’ canyons has created a flat stretch, a sort of giant grass-topped mesa nestled on the rise between the rock-mined craters. We’re still traveling uphill though. We’re on an incline steep enough that I have to put considerable effort into breathing before I can manage to ask the questions that are popping into my mind.