“He’s quite good at reading them,” Quen was saying as I gazed over the nearby hill. “He’s like his father there.” Quen turned to the hill expectantly at the soft rumble of hooves. “Kal was extraordinary on a horse. He had a knack for knowing what it was thinking and countering it with just the right amount of force.”

I looked up from playing peekaboo with Lucy, and Quen seemed to straighten. “That’s him now,” he said softly, then turned to the stables. “Ceri? He’s back!”

My eyebrows rose at the informal hail, but being around horses tended to do that to a person. Big horses with jockeys looking like children on their backs were coming over the hill in pairs, high-stepping and sending up puffs of dust from the soft path. I didn’t see Trent yet, but clearly practice was done.

The clop of hooves turned me around. Ceri was beaming as she looked up from adjusting her boot, the sun glowing in her hair caught back in a veil/hat kind of thing. She was utterly beautiful in her proper English riding outfit, sitting atop her horse with a happy air about her. Green eyes squinting, she was both breathless in anticipation and relaxed in the saddle. The voices of the jockeys became louder, and her mount backed up, nervous as the adjacent paddock filled with an aggressive energy.

“Do you have Lucy, love?” she asked Quen as she calmed her horse, and the older, pox-scarred man looked down at the little girl. His own mount didn’t care about the spirited stallions and feisty mares, calmly twitching an ear at them.

“Down,” Lucy whined, twisting until she could reach her hat. “Down. Down!”

“I’ll take her,” Ceri demanded, but Quen only smiled a private smile and handed her to me instead. It was then that Jenks showed up, and I almost dropped the little girl when Lucy squealed, reaching for the little funny man with wings who managed to stay just out of her reach.

“Jeez, Jenks!” I exclaimed, scrambling for a hold as the little girl wiggled. “If she ever gets a hold on you, I’m going to sell tickets. Back up, will you?”

“Awww, she won’t hurt me,” he said, but he hovered unmoving until I could hand the slightly squishy Lucy up to her mom. Or Ceri. Or whatever. Technically speaking, Lucy and Ray didn’t share a drop of common blood, and the only thing that linked them were their perfect, uncropped, and somewhat pointy ears. But still.