The Earl's Childe (24 page)

“Heather, is your mother around?”

“She was just with me, but she got a text and ran inside but told me to find you out here while I took my horse for a walk. He's been antsy all day.”

“Antsy?” Right. Good word for being stuck in a pen, knowing what is out here
.

Not. Helping
. I thought back at him, continuing to speak as the coach raised an eyebrow. “Look, I'll text her so you know.” Mum was a writer. She totally made stuff up for a living! I pulled out my phone and texted, “Coach David wants to make sure you know I found him by the main stable safely like you said to do,” and hit send, passing the phone to him.

It seemed to take forever for the phone to buzz-ring back. I figured Mum was doing some quick investigation on some detail to cover us. After all, it was
her
rule that none of us were supposed to be outside without an adult. And I couldn't exactly tell Coach David that I was pretty sure that being four hundred years old made Ermie an adult, and the fact he was soul-bound to me made him responsible. Maybe.

“So, what's his name?” Max asked, holding out his hand for Ermie to sniff. Ermie snorted, taking a step back and looking over Max's head towards the turnouts. “Easy boy, I won't hurt you.”

“His name's Ehrwnmyr. Ermie for short.”

“That's an odd name. Does it mean something in some language?”

Ermie snorted again. From the “ick” and step of Max, I'm pretty sure it was a bogey-filled one, too.

I shrugged, eyes still on my phone in Coach David's hand. “It's the name he came with.”

The phone sang and buzzed with Mum's reply. With a nod, the coach handed it back to me. “Tell her she's welcome, I didn't get the text, but Stormy's calmed down a lot more now.” He offered me a smile. “I didn't mean to accuse. Your mom just seemed very worried about the dog attacks and reminded us all at dinner to not let any of you, even one of you—” I figured he meant me and my siblings, “—outside without supervision.”

I typed all that in, concealing a sigh of relief, and asked, “Is Stormy on the other side of the stable? Can we see him, too? Mum said they looked a lot alike.”

“They do.” Coach David gave Ermie an appraising look. “They're both impressive. And from what I hear, both are pretty headstrong boys.”

Behind me, Ermie turned what I knew was his “chuckle,” normally an eerie, almost-human sound, into more of a horselike whuffle.

Coach David continued, “If you two can build strong relationships with them and condition their temperament a bit more, I bet they would make great eventing horses. Dressage, even. They're not too drafty.”

Eventing? Dressage?

Things people do with our horses, like competitions and shows and stuff. Coach David trains people in the States to compete all over the globe
, I answered. I still sensed his confusion, which was fine. It wasn't like I could actually use him in a competition. Ten times stronger and faster than regular horses? Yeah, that would go over well. Knowing some of the high-level show people I knew, he'd be less investigated if he swallowed someone's spoiled kid whole than if he over-performed.

You're not blocking your thoughts, and that was an extremely entertaining idea that I fully support
.

It was all I could do to not stop short and jab my elbow into his chest. Not that I had a chance to, though, as he stopped as soon as we had a clear view of the other side of the turnouts.

He snorted deeply several times, tail up, chest puffed, eyes almost bugging.

Coach David put a hand on my shoulder. “I think this is far enough. I'd rather not get either of them worked up. We should head back.”

“One sec,” I said, looking at Stormy who, for his part, had frozen in place, staring at Ermie. “Please.”
Calm the crap down or Coach David won't let us see him better
.

It is… He is
… He started to say, waves of sadness and… something else…in his words. Then he snapped.
I don't answer to your Coach David!

But I do. And if he says we have to leave, I have to make you leave or there will be problems
.

Ermie snorted again, then shook himself. He relaxed his stance some. Three turnouts down, so did Stormy.

“There. Maybe they are related, and they recognize each other,” I said, hoping that would explain their odd behavior. Ermie snorted again, and I felt the equivalent of a comic-book exclamation point in my head. With no further explanation, I decided to continue. “I think we can get closer now.” Of course, I could see the salt line around the perimeter of the turnouts, and Ermie had to stay away from that anyway. Without waiting for approval, I headed towards Stormy.

“So, if you don't know what his name means, why did you keep it?” Max pressed. He was walking on my other side now, some distance from Ermie.

“It seemed to fit. And he likes it.”

No comment came from the kelpie gallery. In fact, all I felt was almost a high-pitched strum of energy and emotion. It made my own heart beat harder and faster. Looking at Max's hurt face, I realized my answer to him had been clipped. I offered a smile. “Sorry, it's just… I want him to get used to the other horses, so we don't have to keep him separated.”

“The other horses seem more nervous around
him,”
Coach David said. And they were. I knew they were. Nearly all had slunk back into their stalls and watched us warily through the doorways.

“And Stormy hasn't taken his eyes off him,” Max added.

I sensed him about to question us getting closer, and I totally sensed that this meant a lot to Ermie, though he was hiding an awful lot, so I quickly asked Max, “So, did you name Stormy or was that the name he came with?”

“He came with the name, but it had been storming, a bad lightning storm, that morning before he arrived. And it's a cool-sounding name, I thought.”

Still no comment from Ermie. He may not have even been paying attention to our conversation at all.

“It is. And I think Ehrwnmyr sounds cool too. And Ermie.” Actually, Ermie made him sound almost cute, I thought, which could very well be problematic, all things considered.

“Fair enough,” Max said, giving me a shy smile.

I returned his smile, though my focus was more on Ermie, who was both strutting and wary, eyes absolutely glued on the other horse. We were almost to Stormy's turnout.

“Heather, I think this is close enough.” Coach David's voice was more of a command. “I've never seen horses act like this before.”

No!

“Hold up,” I said, wiggling Ermie's lead rope. I hadn't either, but I knew these weren't horse-horses, too.

No!

Before I could form some command in my head, Ermie jerked his head
hard
, pulling the rope from my hands with a burn. In two canter-paces, he was by the gate. He and Stormy trotted back and forth, sniffing each other's noses and snorting deep grunts, more normal horse behavior, but not much less scary.

I started to run to them when Coach David grabbed my shoulder and pulled me behind him. “Don't get between them, Heather. They could fight.”

If only I could tell my coach that the equine he was nearest to could kill him faster than any other horse.

Be good for Coach David! Don't hurt him!
I mentally shouted, trying to stay close to the coach. Max, then, grabbed my arm, concern in his indigo eyes.

“Don't. It's not worth getting hurt over. Coach knows far more about horses than either of us if they're going to fight.”

I yanked my arm from Max. Coach didn't know about kelpies, though.

Coach David was approaching from an angle that left him the most room to get away if he had to. I saw Ermie's eye on him.

Please, don't hurt him! You promised you would be good if we let you see Stormy!

Whickering, the kelpie stepped back from the fence and the salt line. Stormy put his head over to sniff more. Ermie reached to him, licked his nose, and trotted a wide circle around Coach David and back to my side.

There was no mischief caused save for your reactions
. His voice in my head was soft and, dare I say, gentle.
Let me see your hand that held the rope
. I opened it up for him, scowling at the bright red. He nuzzled it, and though I couldn't see through the glamour, I felt the brush of the tentacle fur. Then, he totally shocked me with a sloppy lick across the hand.
It will heal. I apologize for causing you pain
.

Considering he'd been lapping at chicken guts barely more than an hour ago, I was very proud I did not go “ick” and insult what I knew was an affectionate gesture.
So, you know the half-kelpie horse, then?

Ermie didn't answer right away, but was looking over my shoulder. The other horse had lowered its head and was staring back. Between us and him, Max and Coach David were staring at me.

“Um.” I shrugged, taking Ermie's lead rope in my un-burned hand. Strangely, after the lick, the other one didn't seem to be bothering me so much.

“That was…different,” Coach David said, eyes wavering between wariness and disbelief.

“I'll say.” Max was glancing between Ermie and me.

“We…probably should be heading back, yeah?” I offered. “Very early morning tomorrow, aye?” I started walking back around the stable, mindful of what path I could take that wouldn't look too weird because Ermie had to avoid the salt.

Are you at least going to tell
me
what that was about?
I asked Ermie as the other two walked with me in silence for a bit.

That is…my son
.

CHAPTER

12

Because my ability to navigate human relationships wasn't complicated enough either…

Ermie's confession struck me silent for half the trip back to his stable. Coach David lingered a few steps behind as Max walked beside Ermie and me.

“So, you think they are related, then?” Max asked. “Our two horses?”

“Aye, I do.”
And my kelpie just told me so
. But that prompted me to ask, “I thought you got papers with Stormy, though?”

“My mother sent me and your mum a message earlier. All the records we got were false.” Max frowned. “Not that it surprised me much.” He looked away, face dark. “Fortunately, we had our vet do all the necessary shots, so we don't have to leave, and no one has to worry about their horses.”

“Well, you don't need papers if you're not doing breed shows, yeah?”
On the other hand, how fair is it for someone with a part-kelpie to compete against regular horses?
I had no idea how to even bring up that topic.

“True. It just would've been kind of cool to know for sure. Do you have papers for yours?”

“No. He was…a rescue.”

The slightest snort of a chuckle came from Ermie, but that was all.

“Funny how that happens.” Max reached behind me and rubbed Ermie's shoulder. “He's got quite a soft coat, too.”

I nodded, scritching his neck where I knew he liked it. He leaned a little into me and sent me a sense of appreciation. His mind was clearly on his recent discovery, though, and I didn't pry.

We were quiet a moment again, something I was fine with, but Max clearly wasn't.

“So, are you studying for your A levels this year? Or is it next for you?”

The question totally threw me for a loop. “What? I'm only just starting St. Bridget's next year. I don't even want to
think
about my A levels.”

“What?”

“I'm just starting at St. Bridget's next year.” I stared at him, and he was still looking at me in confusion. “I'm only eleven— well, I'll be twelve in October, but still. I've got enough to worry about without even thinking of A levels.”

“I…I thought you were, like fourteen or something,” Max looked away. “I knew you or your sister was something like that. You just look older, and well, you don't act like you're eleven.”

“Twelve in October,” I re-clarified. “You mean you thought Lily was the younger sister? She's the one who hangs out with all the older kids.”

“I…didn't realize.” He was looking away from me, face quite red.

Behind us, I heard Coach David cough. He'd fallen quite a few paces behind on our long walk to Ermie's stable and was looking around the grounds and gardens between the stables.

Beside me, Ermie was turning his chuckles into horse-whuffles again, but I was definitely feeling his amusement in my head.

What?!
I sent to him, trying to keep my confusion from my face.

You truly have no idea, do you?

About what?

He didn't answer, and while he refrained from actually saying it, I got the snarky emotion in my head that went with him calling me “precious.” Then he took another sniff in the direction of Max.

Annoyed at the kelpie, and at Max's odd behavior now, I picked up my pace. “Well, how old are you?”