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51

“Fine!” she snapped, galvanized by anger, partially directed at Mathin. Why would he stick her on a dangerous beast and then leave her to deal with it? She grabbed the beast by its small ear. “Listen up, buttercup! I’m in no mood to be messed with, so you either knock it off or I’ll rip this thing off and kick it around on the ground. You got that?” She felt guilty for saying it, no matter how deep their mutual dislike went, but the stag settled right down.

Mathin nodded at her. “Good! As his rider you’re the only one who can win his respect.”

She scowled at him. “You could have warned me.”

“Forgive me.” He gave her a

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