When the horses were first led out to us, I did a double-take. There's no way these are horses, I thought with uncertainty. They couldn't be. But everything about them was the same as back home—except for the horns. Each animal sported a pair of small antlers, like those found on white-tailed deer.

"What are they?" I asked Leihalani as a soldier with moss-green hair brought a dappled rose-grey mare up to me.

"Sághas," she said, swinging up into the saddle of her tall bay stallion. Unlike the mares meant for Rachael and I, the stallion's horns were massive, elklike things. They gleamed like polished wood in the noon sun, each point honed to a sharp peak.

"Does mine have a name?" Rachael asked the soldier holding the reins to her chestnut mare.

"Cythra, lady," he replied. "Do you require help mounting?"

"Nope! I got this!" I watched as Rachael swung up into the saddle with ease, grinning the whole time. Showoff. "Could you take my picture? I gotta show this to my friends when we get home."

The soldier's eyebrow rose, perplexed, as my cousin extended her cell phone to him. "Take your picture, my lady?"

"He doesn't know what that is, Rach," I said, gesturing at her furiously. "Put it away. Why did you even bring your phone, anyway? There's no way to charge it here." God only knew if she could get service—wherever the hell we were. That's why I had left mine at home, although I felt naked without it.

Rachael rolled her eyes, but tucked the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. "Jenna put an extender charm on it last week," she told me, naming a friend of hers who was a witch. "The battery will last for weeks."

Sighing, I slowly shook my head. Really, what did it matter to me if she had it? As long as she kept our low profile beyond the guard station, she could take as many selfies as she wanted.

"Do you need a hand up, my lady?"

I turned to the moss-haired soldier and the dreaded task of getting up on my own mare. "Yes, please. I've never ridden before."

The soldier smiled and I found myself blushing. Please don't tell me that all of these elven guys are stupidly handsome, I grumbled, turning to face the mare instead. I didn't think I could take it.

"Grab the pommel and put your left foot into the stirrup, my lady," the soldier instructed. "I'll help you swing up."

"Pommel?" I raked the saddle from end to end, but didn't see anything that fit the word.

"This," the elven soldier said, reaching up to tap the rounded front of the saddle.

"Oh." I appreciated the fact that if the mare came to an abrupt halt, I wouldn't be impaled in the stomach. "Okay. How do I get up again?"

With infinite patience, the soldier managed to get my uncoordinated ass into the saddle. He walked around the mare and fit my right foot into the other stirrup, giving me tips on how to control the horse at the same time. I nodded as he spoke, but I was only half-listening. The thoughts that plagued my nighttime hours returned with a vengeance: Where were we going? How long would it take us to get there? What would happen if we were discovered?

"Thanks," I murmured distractedly as he stepped away. Just then, the mare decided to shift; unprepared as I was, I jerked to the side. Panic flooded me as I dropped the reins and scrabbled for a hold on the pommel.

The soldier's hands snaked out and he guided me back to center. After properly putting the reins back into my hands, he said, "And you must remember to hold on with your legs, as well. Otherwise, you'll fall off."

"God, this is embarrassing," I muttered, a flush creeping up the back of my neck. "Thank you."

"You'll do fine," he said. Reaching into a bag that hung from the back of the saddle, he pulled out a long grey cloak. "Put this on, my lady. I'll hold the mare."

I stared at the cloak apprehensively. God, I was going to broil in that thing; but it was part of Leihalani's conditions. Dropping the reins, I took it from the guard's hands and slung the cloak around my shoulders. To my surprise, it was soft and airy, almost silk-like in texture despite its woolly appearance. A silver clasp in the shape of an oak tree fastened the cloak firmly at the base of my throat.

Tugging the hood over my head, I looked down at the guard. "How do I look?"

"Quite unremarkable, my lady," he replied, giving me a wink.

Oh. A flush crept up my collarbone and bloomed across my face.

A sharp cough drew my flustered attention to Leihalani. Cocking her head at me curiously, she picked up the reins of her elk-horned stallion and clucked her tongue at him; the Ságha shifted into a walk. Blushing furiously, I did the same, tapping my heels against the mare's sides as I'd seen actors do in so many Western movies. On Leihalani's other side, an equally-cloaked Rachael did the same.

And so, our strange adventure began.

The road into the nearest village—and the place where we would start our search—was well-traveled. Single riders as well as those in carts or carriages regularly passed us. Some of their horses were Sághas, others were of a draft variety that had huge, curling ram horns instead. Not one elf appeared to remark on our cloaked selves, for which I counted my blessings.

During the short periods where we were the only travelers on the road, Leihalani filled me in on this new—old?—world.

"Atlantis is home to four kingdoms: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter," she explained. "The other continent, Lemuria, has the Light and Shadow Kingdoms."

"So, what happens when this Convergence occurs?" I asked.

"We will reappear in the same place before the Sundering. The Gates will be open permanently and travel will once more be permissible between our lands and yours." She gave a little shrug. "Or so the ancient texts proclaim."

I knew that the ancient Greek scholar Plato proposed that Atlantis was, fittingly, in the Atlantic Ocean. There was a lot of open real estate there, so its emergence shouldn't disrupt any trade lines or whatever else went on in the ocean commerce-wise. But I'd never heard of Lemuria.

Just as I was about to ask Leihalani about travel distance between Atlantis and Lemuria, a group of traders appeared on the road. Shutting my mouth with a slight click of teeth, I tugged the hood of my cloak down over my eyes and lapsed into silence.

The scenery changed gradually from thick forest to open land, dotted here and there with small clusters of trees. Long stalks of wheatgrass and colorful wildflowers swayed in the breeze. Jewel-bright birds with eyes that sparkled and long tail feathers that shot harmless motes of light flitted from tree to tree. Smaller avians that looked like hummingbirds with butterfly wings hovered around large, red-purple flowers that mimicked the appearance of tubas.

Seeing these small creatures made me long for my phone. I, too, wanted to snap some pictures to take home—just as Rachael was doing when she thought I wasn't paying attention. She better hope to God that charm her friend put on her phone actually held.

The first indication we had that we were nearing civilization was a farm. Suddenly, a fence built of solid timber planks appeared on the right. Shaggy, bovine creatures with long, ropy fur in varying shades of brown and red, grazed within a paddock. They had wide, flat horns that splayed outward then jutted upwards. Knobby bits of either bone or keratin covered their faces.

"What are those?" Rachael asked. She angled her chestnut mare towards the paddock and pointed at the beasts.

"Báidu," Leihalani explained, drawing her stallion to a halt. Rachael and I did the same, with varying degrees of success. I just didn't know how much force I should use. "Some people prefer them over cows. I personally find their milk too sour." 

One of the báidu moved, showcasing three-toed splayed feet. The huge head with all of its knobby bits lifted, lower jaw working steadily. Wet nostrils flared as it caught our scent. With a grace belied by its large frame, the báidu turned and paced off down to the opposite side of the pasture.

"Uhm ... do they have three pairs of legs?" I asked, pausing to watch the strange locomotion.

"Indeed they do," Leihalani confirmed.

"Wow. Rach—get a picture of them." Never mind that I had chastised her earlier.

Rachael laughed. "Already done," she giggled, waving her cell phone in the air.

"That device of yours really comes in handy, doesn't it?" Leihalani mused, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind one pointed ear.

"We could always get you a camera," Rachael suggested.

"And where would she print the photos?" I asked. It wasn't like they had human-level technology here.

Rachael shrugged, unperturbed. "She could always swing by the house. I'd do it for her."

That was a nice sentiment, but I doubted the elven woman would be back any time soon. Leihalani smiled. "Thank you, that is a lovely offer." I couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just saying that to be polite.

We watched the báidu for a few more minutes, then the elf eased her horse back on the road. Having no other choice, we followed.

A farmhouse came into view soon enough. Like the barracks, the builders eschewed straight angles. But despite these differences, it still retained a look that declared that this was a home. A large barn sat behind the residence, all worn paint and ancient boards. More báidu grazed at the fence nearest the house, turning at the sight of us and pacing away.

There were quaint little touches on the front wrap-around porch that suggested that humans and elves weren't all that different: two wicker rocking chairs; a low, blue-painted wooden bench with intricate rose carvings; and baskets of flowers hung at intervals around the porch. A silver triple-spiral was carved into front door.

On the other side of the farmhouse was another large paddock. This one had creatures that looked strangely like camels had mated with alpacas—they had long, supple necks; rather flat backs; long, knobby legs; and tight, curly hair that was either white, or black-and-white. The alpaca-camel hybrids chewed their cud with calm aplomb, fleshy lips flapping with each motion of the jaw. A long, somewhat hairless tail, swayed casually at their haunches. Unlike the báidu, these beasts didn't move a muscle as we trotted past them on the road. Rather, they appeared bored.

Why do they look familiar? I wondered, digging deep into the recesses of my mind for a clue. Why did I have the strange feeling that I was looking at some prehistoric mega-fauna? Naw, I thought, shaking my head. That couldn't be it ... could it?

Beyond the paddock was a long stretch of freshly-tilled dirt. A small elven girl stood at a stone well graced with a great-horned deer, drawing a bucket of water. A full pail sat at her feet. She grabbed the first bucket by its rope handle and lifted the other one off the lip of the well. As she turned, she saw us moving past the farmland. Leihalani raised a hand in greeting, a gesture that was mirrored by the girl.

By the time we passed two more farms, their paddocks filled with báidu, alpaca-camel hybrids and something else that looked vaguely familiar, my butt and thighs were starting to complain.

"How much longer til we get to this village?" I asked Leihalani, wincing as I shifted in the saddle.

"It's not much farther," she assured me. One corner of her mouth quirked. "Feeling a little sore?"

"Yeah," I grumbled, not feeling very humorous. I reached down to rub at my inner thigh. How did people ride for hours—or days? I'd be surprised if I had any skin left there after today.

"A few days of riding and you won't feel it anymore," Leihalani said.

I'll be the judge of that, I muttered to myself.

"Oh, lighten up, Aly," Rachael called back. "You sound like an old woman."

"I'm twenty-three," I retorted.

"Then act it."

Teenagers.

But Leihalani proved to be correct. Not a few minutes later, the dirt road shifted to a strange, rose-colored paving stone and drew us upwards towards a slight hill. At the very top, Leihalani eased her stallion over to the side of the road, reined him to a halt and gestured. I pulled up my grey mare next to Rachael's chestnut and looked down at the village. It spread out before us, a quaint collection of houses, shops and other miscellaneous buildings. Other than the people and architecture, it could have passed for any rural English village.

"Remember," the elf told us, "keep silent and let me do the talking."

I glanced at Rachael, but my cousin's expression was all seriousness. Locking eyes with each of us, the elf nodded, content we would follow her rules.

Leihalani led us into the heart of the village. Here, hemmed in by elves on all sides, I felt my heart-rate pick up a notch. My mare, picking up on my nervous energy, tossed her head and lashed her tail. Shit.

"Whoa," I murmured, easing back on the reins. That was correct thing to do, right?

Leihalani cut me a dark look, but thankfully, little old novice me was able to get my mare under control. Thank you, God, I breathed in relief.

The hooves of our Sághas chimed dully on the rose-colored pavers as we moved ever deeper into the village. We passed a market and a florist, a clothing store and a tailor's shop. At the end of one wide street, there was a tall building that rose nearly three stories. Staked out front in a patch of large, colorful flowers was large sign, bordered by a semi-circular road of dark grey stone. Without even knowing the elven language, I gauged that this had to be some sort of inn.

As we turned the horses onto this path, a male elf in white and pale blue livery popped out of a side door. His green eyes widened slightly, then he bowed. "Sáibhna tsolli, Your—"

Leihalani cut him off with a curtly-raised hand.

The man's green eyes swept over Rachael's and mine cloaked forms. "Welcome to the Cerulean Dove ... ?"

Leihalani nodded. "Please see to the care of our horses."

"Yes, yes of course ... miss." He moved to take Leihalani's horse's reins, then gestured towards the door. As if by magic, two more liveried men appeared to do the same for Rachael and I.

"Thank you," Leihalani said, sliding with grace from the saddle.

Oh, shit, was that our cue to dismount? Uhm ... I glanced down at the ground, then at the elven man standing at my heel. Damn, I couldn't even ask for help, could I?

Realizing my predicament, the man reached out. "Give me your hand, lady."

Trying not to think of how much this was going to hurt, I leaned into the porter's hold and practically tumbled to the ground. Oh, God, everything hurt!

"Are you all right, my lady?" the porter inquired as I hunched over, legs bowed outwards.

Mutely, I nodded, although what I really wanted to do was scream and curse. With difficulty, I straightened, even as my muscles screamed.

Then Leihalani was standing next to me. "Come," the elven woman said, looping her arm through mine. "You need to keep moving. We don't want you to stiffen up."

"Yeah," I hissed dryly into her ear as she led me into the inn. "That would really suck."