“We’re going to Blue Ribbon Stables,” I said. “It’s the closest place to rent a horse.”

“Why?” Desandra asked.

“Because I can’t keep up with you on foot,” I said.

“And she runs like a rhino,” Derek added. “You can hear her a mile away.”

Traitor. “I thought you had my back?”

“I do,” Derek said. “The rhino running is nice. Makes it easy to keep track of you. If I ever lose you, I just have to listen and there you are.”

“Yes,” Desandra agreed. “It’s convenient.”

I laughed.

“Are you always this casual?” Robert asked.

“Derek and I worked together for a long time,” I told him. “He’s allowed some leeway.”

“What about Desandra?”

“She only bothers with protocol when she wants something. The rest of the time it’s lewd jokes and descriptions of plums.”

Desandra snickered.

Robert’s eyebrows crept up. “Plums?”

I waved my hand. “Don’t ask.”

Ten minutes later the wooded path spat us out into Troll’s Ferry Road, and fifteen minutes later we stopped next to the fence near the gate leading to Blue Ribbon Stables. Half an hour gone. We didn’t have much time.

“You better go in by yourself,” Desandra said. “Or they might get scared that Derek and I intend to blow their house down.”

“If there is an issue,” Robert said, “we’re only a few feet away.”

I heard a low guttural sound and I realized it was Derek laughing. Well, at least his sense of humor was coming back. Thank the Universe for small favors.

I jogged to the door and knocked. The door swung open and an elderly black man leveled a crossbow at me. I held up my hands. “Mr. Walton? I need a horse. I called you yesterday and asked you to hold one for me.”

Mr. Walton squinted at me. “About that . . .”

“Yes?”

“I’ve done rented them all.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. “You said you had one and would hold it for me. I sent one of my people here and he told me you took the money.”

“I did say that and I did take it. But you know. Money is a funny thing. The more of it, the prettier it looks. You said you might need a horse and it wasn’t a sure thing.”

Argh.

“You want a refund?”

“I want a horse.”

“I’m all out of horses for this week, but I’ve got a mammoth jenny.”

“A what?”

“Come, I’ll show you.”

He led me to the stable. Inside in the third stall something large moved. It looked like a horse, about sixteen hands or so tall. The man raised a feylantern. A long face with two-foot-long ears looked at me with big blue eyes. A donkey, except it stood about eight feet tall, hoof to ear. Big white spots painted its black shaggy hide.

“What is this?”