her instruments 02 - rose point Read Online Free Page A

ah…population.”
    “You seem skeptical,” he said. “Not much of an animal-lover, captain?”
    “I live on a ship,” Reese answered. “Fur clogs ducts. I have enough trouble with the crew shedding without adding things that aren’t smart enough to help me do maintenance.”
    “Ah,” he said. “Well, you’ll have noticed the heat? Most of us sleep through it. We run on reduced numbers during the afternoon.”
    “Right,” Reese said. “So, you were saying about textiles?”
    “Ah! Yes.”
    Reese followed him down the stairs, but she glanced one more time at the lab as they left it. Far be it from her to criticize any person’s lifelong dream—God knew her own family had—but she was trying to imagine a planetary preserve for a single species. Strange motivation. “I guess you like to ride,” she said, more to herself than to him.
    “Captain Eddings,” the Kesh said. “There is no freedom like the freedom on the back of a horse.”
     
    “So, alet,” Saul said. “Does it feel good to be back?”
    Hirianthial glanced at the wolfine, smiling a little. “Is it so obvious?”
    “To me? Absolutely.” Saul chuckled. “You don’t ride like an amateur. And as little as I know about Eldritch, I still know something. You’re probably older than my great-grandparents. For all I know, you’ve been riding horses longer than I’ve been alive.”
    Hirianthial looked up at a sky brittle with glare and broad over the rumpled hills. He’d left his homeworld, gone through the Alliance’s medical schools, practiced as a healer, left off that practice to become his Queen’s spy and was now tagging along with a merchant captain, and though all of that had been barely a fraction of his life it was still longer than Saul had been alive. He said, “It would perhaps be more accurate to say it’s been that long since I’ve ridden.”
    Saul’s ears flicked back. His chuckle this time was a touch huskier, and his aura fluttered with shadows: rue, perhaps, like a murder of crows passing overhead. “Well. Then you’re long past due.”
    Hirianthial looked between the mare’s ears, drew in the familiar smell of leather and horse sweat, the unfamiliar perfume of alien flowers dried on the stem by the pitiless heat. “On that count, you are entirely correct, alet. May I say though—”
    “Yes?” Saul looked over at him.
    “I have never ridden an animal of this quality,” Hirianthial said. “And I am honored to do so.” He glanced at the Hinichi. “You will not sell?”
    Saul said nothing, riding alongside with his face lifted to the sun and his eyes narrowed nearly to slits. After a moment, he said, “Right now, we’re not selling. As far as any askers are concerned. But the right buyer...” He glanced at Hirianthial. “You don’t want a riding animal. For pleasure.”
    Had his avarice been that blatant? But then, he had never imagined that Earth would have retained such genetic treasure. “I have perhaps bred horses myself in the past.”
    “Stud fees—”
    “I fear your studs would be wasted on our mares,” Hirianthial said.
    “Ah.” Saul nodded. “I should have known... no one who lives as long as an Eldritch can afford to think in the short term, ah?”
    Hirianthial said, “Alet—I do not think that anyone can afford to think in the short term. No matter their lifespan.”
    “Truth.” Saul chuckled. “The Kesh might be open to negotiation. I’ll talk to him about it.”
    “Thank you,” Hirianthial said, inclining his head.
    “And now... come! Our greatest jewel likes the high ground!” With a cluck, Saul urged his mare up a trail, and Hirianthial followed. His neat-footed mare needed little direction; she read his intentions in a way none of the less intelligent animals he’d worked with at home could have duplicated. It was a unity close to pain, to feel so attuned to another creature: he could even sense her aura, something he’d never noticed at home. Was it that these horses