Estienne the Carousel Centaur (special preview)

“It has been a long time since I’ve gotten to see old Robin,” he says and looks back at me. “How is the old fool doing? He must be doing quite well, now that he’s married and expecting his first offspring.”

I raise my hands and start to sign to Mr. Faire. “I hope you can understand me this way. But yes. Robin is fine when I get to see him. He’s like a ghost, sometimes he’s there and sometimes he isn’t. And when he is there, it’s very cold for some reason.”

Mr. Faire’s eyes widen. “Forgive me! I didn’t realize.” He signs to me an apology and I smile up at him. “Most of my family here knows sign language and quite a few can read minds, so don’t be afraid to ask for whatever you want with your own words,” Mr. Faire grins at me. “Everyone is at home here. Now,” he leads me from his office, “is there something you’d like to do before the guests start to arrive?”

I glance back at the carousel, seeing someone is testing it. Music starts to play and my heart begins to hammer at the familiar tune.

“The carousel is my pride and joy, well, everything here is,” Mr. Faire laughs as we walk towards it. “But this one is very special to me.” We stand before it and he sighs. “It took me a long time to find all the pieces.”

I watch as it spins, admiring each figure as it dances past me. I eagerly anticipate the blue horse and, as it rounds the corner, I hold my breath. It’s not just any blue horse, but it’s a centaur. The carousel stops with the centaur just before me.

“This is Estienne,” Mr. Faire says to me, undoubtedly seeing my gawking and wide expression as I look up at the marvelous figure. “He’s what started this carousel, he’s very important.” He then smiles at me. “Would you enjoy a ride with Estienne?”

I look up at him, my cheeks burning a bit. Even if Estienne is just a figure made from old wood, he’s very well crafted. The human half is lithe and angelic with a beautiful face. His jaw is so sharp, it could cut glass and the dimple in his chin is so cute. His eyes are closed, but long eyelashes fall onto his cheeks. His hair looks caught in a strong breeze and flows up and around the golden pole, which his long, strong arms grasp a hold of, tangling themselves up where his hands grip so tightly, his knuckles look white and strained. His skin is a hazy blue, heathered and mottled and turning into a dark royal blue as it goes into the horse half. There are tiny blue morpho butterflies all over him too, mostly in his hair and tail. Then, on his back, I see blue wings painted there like an elegant tattoo.

Mr. Faire helps me step up onto the carousel and then onto Estienne’s saddle. There’s a handle jutting up from the saddle I can hold. “There now,” Mr. Faire replies. “All set? You’ll get this special ride to yourself.” He steps down as the carousel starts to spin. The music begins to play and I feel like I’m caught up in a dream. I hold onto the handle, but tears start to come.