Air whooshed from my lungs. If she took orders from Flora, then she belonged to the Court. My favorite exercise rider wasn’t human at all, at least not wholly. The Seelie court allowed half-humans among them, though they’d never ascend to higher positions. “Glad to hear it.” I painted the smile of a good boss on my face. “I’ll take what you said under advisement. I’m going to check my messages then check legs.”
“I need to walk Gunner.”
“I want to watch him move so have someone come get me when you get him loosened up.” The older horse had strained a muscle. Nothing life-threatening or even career-ending, but we walked him by hand to get him moving again and see how he was going. Jack offered to take him if necessary. I hoped it didn’t come to that, though having a place for my racers to go when they were done where they’d find a second career and a good home reassured me.
The blinking light on my phone mocked me when I entered my office. I may be a goddess surrounded by the fae and their horses; however, I still was a trainer and business called. I took the messages, noting the delay with the weekly feed delivery seemed problematic given what had happened. Jim wanted me to call him back. And a message from someone who gave his name only as Cameron wanted to talk to me. No reason was given, but the deep, dark tones of the voice sounded Unseelie.
I returned the message to the feed store, telling them the change in schedule was okay. Then I called Jim, who said they’d double checked all results. I was clear. I ignored Cameron. I dug up the information on the holding company for the nutraceutical company and sent everything I knew to my friend. Sooner or later the truth would come out. I couldn’t confront Dean on the track, and bringing this up to stewards only made me a sore loser. I needed proof. Hard proof that seemed to elude me at the moment.
Trainer visits to places like this weren’t unheard of. I dashed off a quick email, then went to the row of young horses and began checking legs for heat and swelling. Kel arrived just as I was finishing and I watched her jog Gunner up and down the driveway. He looked good, no swelling or favoring the right hind leg. “Let’s jog him under saddle tomorrow and see how he does. If he continues to improve, we can put him back into training by the end of the month.”
I returned to my office, the balance of trying to maintain my role as a goddess about to possibly be facing a fae war with that of a thoroughbred trainer shattering my calm. Forti always helped. With her gone, I relied on myself, and over the centuries I’d forgotten how to do that. I’d come a long way from my days with Boudicea. The Romans came, adopted me as one of their own, swept me into their planned cavalry and structured regimens. I spread across Europe, my worship growing until something changed. I became forgotten, an old sign that people touched in barns, a horseshoe above the door that they tapped, nothing more and nothing approaching my prior glory.
I could do this. I had to do this. And just like that my cell phone chimed with a planned appointment. If I drove quickly, I could meet the lab director before he left for the day. He offered to stay late and offer me a tour. Without knowing his name or anything about him, other than the fact that this lab held the key to stopping Dean, I left a note on the barn board that I had to leave and got in the car.
Forty minutes later I pulled up in front of ZCC Nutriproducts, Inc. The sleek chrome and glass building appeared out of place in the middle of prime Kentucky bluegrass. Horses grazed behind a perfectly clean white fence that had to be washed on a regular basis. Foals frolicked in the pasture next to them with their dams, trotting on long legs or poking inquisitive noses through the fence. The stench of something unidentifiable was all over the place. Humans might not notice it. With my sensitivity to magic and all manner of supernatural creations, it reeked like rotting meat pressed over fresh sassafras.
The smell of the Unseelie court. Their magic’s stench warned of their arrival and kept lesser magical creatures at bay. I wasn’t a lesser creature; I was a goddess. I followed the wide sidewalk to the door. When I entered the building the sent filled my nostrils, so thick I struggled not to retch. The large silver vats behind the building and fanning out on both sides held the chemical compounds they mixed into their supplements. A glass display case showed their products, which ranged from the usual joint or multivitamin supplements to high powered electrolytes for athletes. Those would be what Dean used if I had to guess.
“Can I help you?” A tall woman, her hair so blonde as to be almost white and pulled back with a bronze clip at the nape of her neck strode through the lobby.
“Yes, I’m here to see a member of customer relations. They offered a tour of the facility.” I smiled, played the innocent trainer though this woman stank of Unseelie court and no doubt knew I was a goddess.
“Of course. Right this way.” She gestured me to a side door and opened it, leading me along a wide white and silver corridor. Pictures of race horses lined the walls. I recognized the winner’s circle at Churchill Downs and Pimlico. The names on the saddle sheets read like a who’s who of racing, including some recent major race winners. We stopped outside a door. The name plate read C. Littlemarsh.
