Zahra

Mahmud is a magi. We have more in common than I could have ever imagined.

I recall stories my mother had told me in my childhood in Aura. Stories of the magi. Wisemen whispered to have the ability to interpret dreams, predict the future, and control the elements. I hadn't known it innate, but now as I watch Mahmud create blaze with his magic in the fire he started, I cannot take my eyes off of him.

This boy may not look exceptional, but underneath his awkward youth, he has the most incredible abilities and he wants to kill himself over it!

"Mahmud, why do you want to kill yourself for being a magi?" I ask, still unsure of whether he will actually take me up on my offer and not end his life as a sacrifice.

"In my world, it's an abomination," Mahmud says. He walks over towards me and sits on one of the flat stones making up the landscape of this mountain. "Where do you come from that it isn't?"

"I'm from Aura," I say.

"Aura?" Mahmud appears shocked. "What are you doing all the way down in Kanan?"

"So Kanan is to the south of Aura?" Good, I'm finally learning about the geography of my location.

"Yes! To the far south of Aura. How did you make it through the Deadlands?" Mahmud asks, a tone of respect in his voice.

"Like I said, I'm fast." Good to know I'm far away from the men in red.

"Why did you leave Aura?" Mahmud asks.

Now he's asking too much. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Fair enough," Mahmud says with a nod. He gets up off the stone and approaches me. "Are you sure you're fine with my riding you?"

The way he says it makes the act seem intimate. If I were in my human form my cheeks would heat. I nod my horse head. "I'll learn to get comfortable about it. Just give me time."

"Forgive me if it's rude to ask, but what's it like to change forms?" Mahmud asks. "Does it hurt?"

"No," I say, "It's like slipping in and out of different clothes for me. Does it hurt to use your powers?"

"No," Mahmud says. "I just don't have control of them."

"My mother said magi control theirs powers by drawing from different emotions," I say thoughtfully.

"Men in Kanan do not get emotional," Mahmud says with a laugh.

I laugh with him. "Pity. The fire was impressive."

"Really?" Mahmud's expression is hopeful, and I'll admit, suddenly I find him kind of adorable.

"Let's go," I say nodding in the direction of Kanan City, eager to bring him back to his home where he can't sacrifice himself. "Before anyone knows we're missing."

"I have a better idea," Mahmud says, his warm brown eyes brightening. "If I return now my father will give me the beating of my life, but if I return the day of the Race of Kanan on your back, my father will beam with pride."

"What is this race you speak of?" I ask, there is so much I do not know about this country. One thing I've realized is how important riding horses is here.

"Less than a week now," Mahmud says. "There will be a great race held for all the young men who came of age last year to break their first horse. If I show myself at the race riding you and--gods, it is a little strange I will be riding a horse I can talk to!" Mahmud starts pacing. "Gods, is this wrong?"

"What other choice do we have Mahmud? Besides, I believe if there such a thing as fate, for whatever reason you, a magi, found me. Perhaps we are willed by the gods themselves to join together? No one but you will know I can speak and am not truly a horse."

"I suppose," Mahmud mutters.

I stamp a hoof on the rock. "You can always come back here and cut your own throat, Mahmud, but I choose to believe we're together for a reason. I choose to believe we're not abominations."

"Can I get on your back now? I believe I know a place where we can stay while we train for the race," Mahmud asks. "My Uncle Amon lives in an outpost just outside the city. I'll ask him if he will let me use his tack."

"Sure," I say, although my hair stands on end at the thought of letting Mahmud tack me up. Mother, Father, forgive me for allowing a human to ride my back, there is no other choice. This is the only way I can stay safe.

Mahmud

She's faster than I imagined. I grip her back with my thighs and balance expertly as Father trained me to do on his horse from the day I could walk, but without a saddle I fear I'll fall. Her trot is smooth, even without a saddle, her canter is effortless, but at a gallop, the world disappears around us.

"I'll not stay on, Zahra!" I shout over the wind whipping her mane into my face.

I wonder if she'll allow me to cut her hair.

"You are stronger than you think, Mahmud," Zahra exclaims. "See? You're still on and I'm faster than any horse you will ride in Kanan. We're going to leave the other boys in the dust."

"Men, they are men, Zahra," I remind her.

"Boys," Zahra throws back.

If Father caught Mother talking to him in such a contradictory way to him he'd find her abhorrently disrespectful, but I'm only more intrigued by Zahra's wild spirit and brash remarks. How my father would be ashamed of me if he knew!

Still, she's not a real human, there is no harm in conversing with her like this... Despite the fact that the first time I saw her in her human form I was aroused. Why is it that all the wrong things feel right to me?

"You will need to try on a saddle," I tell her. "They won't accept that I've broken you in at the race unless you can."

"Fine," Zahra snorts.

"It won't be that bad. I imagine it's like wearing clothes. Think of it like a belt around your waist," I say, grateful she's slowing down to a walk and taking us back to my uncle's outpost.

"A belt around my waist, aye?" Zahra shakes with laughter. "Next thing you know you'll be using one of those riding crop things on me. Is that a requirement as well?"

"Not unless you incite me to it!" I tease her back.

"If you do I'll throw you, don't think I won't!" Zahra challenges, abruptly halting so I come down hard on her spine.

Ow.

No, Zahra is definitely not what my father would call a respectable woman.