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bioengineered into a new species, an extraordinarily graceful one. Two clear, crystalline horns on their heads refracted the sunlight like prisms, sending sparks of color everywhere. They had hooves made from the same substance, and their coats shimmered, either blue or lavender. The lovely creatures were much more refined than she had expected given all the noise they made.
    She had more trouble seeing their riders, so she moved closer, standing right behind Brad. The men wore simple clothes, white shirts and rough trousers dyed dark colors, either blue or purple. Embroidery bordered their collars and cuffs. All had on knee-boots. Their hair, neck length or longer, stirred in the breezes.
    “Ho!” A young man in the front called to Brad. “You lost your chess match to Garlin! You owe us much chocolate.”
    Brad gave him a cocky grin. “I will win a match with you, Bard.”
    The man smirked. “I play not, man with the name of Bard misspelled in his own language.”
    Brad laughed. “So you’ve finally learned to spell my name.”
    The other fellow turned smug. “I am clever, eh?”
    An older man was sitting on an animal next to the Bard. He spoke dryly. “And humble.”
    “Hello, Garlin.” Brad waved at the older man. “You’re the one who told him about the spelling, aren’t you?”
    The Bard glared at Garlin. “Don’t tell him.”
    Garlin cocked an eyebrow at Brad. “It seems I have nothing to say.”
    “Ah, well,” the Bard said. “Maybe Garlin did tell me. I’ve no time for spelling.” He grinned again, unabashed and unrestrained, his face alive with pleasure. Roca felt his joy. His mind poured over hers, incredible, like a waterfall. Even with her family, who were all psions, she never picked up their moods this well.
    Roca moved closer, trying to see this Bard more clearly. His odd coloring startled her. He had thick hair the hue of burgundy wine, but streaked gold from sunlight. His violet eyes were large and round. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought freckles sprinkled across his nose. Although she supposed he had a handsome face, he wasn’t her type. She preferred tall, dark, somber men. It was hard to resist his light and laughter, though. He mesmerized, drawing her nearer.
    His mind glowed.
    Why Roca dropped her mental shields, she didn’t know. She had never experienced anything like his mind. It flowed into her with the power of an ocean and the gentleness of a breeze, like warmth and spring all mixed together.
    The young man suddenly went still. Then he tilted his head, his forehead furrowed as if he were listening to a distant voice. Turning to Garlin, he spoke in a language Roca didn’t recognize, persisting when Garlin shook his head. She loved the musical quality of his voice. Deep and resonant, it chimed. She could easily believe what Brad had told her, that this man was an extraordinary singer. The waterfall of his mind poured over her, sparkling, bracing, invigorating. Entrancing.
    Suddenly the youth yelled, jarring Roca out of her trance. Dismayed, she realized she had walked out of the house. The riders jolted into motion again, spurred by his shout, rearing their animals as they added their own yells to the din. In her sensitized state, she reeled under the onslaught of noise and emotions. She stumbled back, confused, but she went off somehow and missed the doorway, backing into the wall instead.
    “Jeri!” Brad’s shout came through the din. “Over here!”
    Roca saw him in the doorway a few meters away. She edged toward him, but too many riders were in the way. She had no idea what they were trying to do. One animal reared much too close to her, its translucent hooves pawing the air. She gasped, putting her hands above her head. The animal came down, slamming the ground with its hooves, and she glimpsed the Bard astride its back, his face wild. Holding up her arm to protect her face, she pressed back against the wall.
    The Bard leaned down, hanging off his animal,