Kyra Blackrein's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Kyra crossed the stable yard with a bucket of grain on her arm. The morning air smelled of hay and old leather. At the far stall, a black horse turned toward her step. Sable knew that step. She always had. Kyra held out a flat palm heaped with pale grain. Sable lipped it up, warm breath brushing her glove. Kyra pressed her forehead to the horse's cheek. The white star on Sable's brow caught the light. "Long ride today," she murmured. "The tower again." The horse leaned into her, trusting, and Kyra felt steadier for it. She fetched the tack from the dark wooden rack near the stall. The saddle carried old brass fittings and worn skull emblems her grandfather had ordered years ago. Kyra worked without hurry. She smoothed the blanket, set the saddle, and drew the girth snug. She slid the bit past Sable's teeth and buckled the bridle. Every strap fell into place. Sable stood square and calm, one white sock bright against the straw. The task was done, clean and complete. Kyra led her out and mounted. They took the path into the forest. Old trees rose on both sides, their roots crossing the dirt track. Moss covered the stones. Sable moved at an easy walk, ears forward, sure of the way. Kyra loosened the reins and let the horse choose her footing. Around a bend she met a woman on foot. The traveler carried a basket of gathered flowers, purple and white, over one shoulder. Her cloak was worn thin at the edges. She lifted a hand and smiled up at Kyra. "Blackrein horse," the woman said, nodding at Sable. "I'd know that coat anywhere. Your house breeds them fine." She stepped aside to let them pass. "Thank you," Kyra said. The praise pleased her more than she expected. She thought of her father's pride in every animal her family raised. The woman shifted her basket. "Long way to ride alone, girl. Where are you bound?" "The tower. My lessons." Kyra kept her voice light. The woman's smile held, but her eyes moved over Sable once more. "Ride safe, then." She turned and walked on down the path, humming. Kyra rode on. The exchange sat oddly with her. A stranger had marked her house, her horse, her road, and where she was going. She told herself it meant nothing. Country folk knew the Blackrein name. The forest thinned. The stone tower rose ahead, its arched door and carved emblem plain above the steps. Kyra had made it without trouble. She dismounted and tied Sable to the iron ring by the door. She stroked the horse's neck once, then climbed the steps to her tutor. Behind her, the woman with the flowers had already left the path. She was not gathering anything now. She was counting the miles back toward the manor.