Sebastian

know what you are. I'm not going near water with the likes of you."
    The waterhorse tossed its head. Stamped a foot.
    "No," Sebastian said.
    A whicker that sounded sad. Almost a plea.
    Not knowing what to make of the demon's behavior, he looked toward the glint of water—and felt a sick certainty that be already knew what the waterhorse wanted him to see.
    He moved blindly toward the water, not even realizing his hand now rested on the waterhorse's neck.
    They stopped close to the remains of something dark and bloated that rested on the bank of the large pond. He tried to move closer but couldn't do it. The waterhorse had used its particular magic to bind his hand to its neck, preventing him from getting too close to the edge of the pond.
    Not that he really wanted to get closer. Guardians and Guides, this was a pond , probably fed by small streams. The waterhorses were the creatures to be feared in this landscape. But something had not only killed a waterhorse; it had ripped out great chunks of flesh. Feeding.
    The waterhorse's body quivered as it backed away from the pond, pulling him with it.
    No humans would regret the death of a waterhorse. After all, those demons drowned any humans foolish enough to ride them.
    But the way that body was ripped up…
    How many predators had found their way into the dark landscapes? And where had they come from?
    "I…" Sebastian cleared his throat. "I have to get back to the Den. I have to tell the others about this." He tried to step away from the waterhorse, but his hand was still ensnared in its magic.
    It turned its head and studied him. Then it released its hold on his hand. But when Sebastian started walking away from the pond, it blocked his path.
    "What do you want?" He was tired, hungry, frustrated, and scared. Oh, yes. He was scared. He didn't need another demon playing games with him.
    The waterhorse tossed its head, then lifted each foot in turn.
    Four feet that weren't tired. Four legs that could run faster than his own.

    "You're offering me a ride?" Sebastian asked.
    The waterhorse bobbed its head.
    "No tricks? No gallops into deep water to drown me?"
    Head shake.
    "Why?" He knew the answer before the waterhorse turned its head to look at the pond. They're scared, too .
    He wasn't used to riding horses, and he mounted with little skill and no grace. The waterhorse didn't seem to care, and as he felt the tingle of magic ensnare his legs, he acknowledged one advantage to riding this particular mount—unless a waterhorse chose to release its prey, a person couldn't fall off.
    So they raced over the land and splashed through streams until Sebastian saw a cairn. As they passed it, he felt the tingle that meant they'd passed through a border and were now in another landscape.
    Borders and boundaries, Glorianna called them. Boundaries separated one kind of landscape from another—or the landscapes controlled by one Landscaper from those controlled by another Landscaper
    —and could be crossed only by using a bridge. Borders marked the places where similar landscapes belonging to a Landscaper were connected, despite how much physical distance existed between them.
    That was the way things worked in Ephemera. A man might not be able to cross a bridge to reach a neighboring village if he didn't resonate with that particular landscape, but he could cross a border and walk through a village in an entirely different part of the world.
    A few minutes later, they were racing along the edge of a cliff Sebastian recognized—just as he recognized the lake. He felt the waterhorse hesitate, no doubt tempted by the combination of deep water and a rider. But it kept to the land instead of looking for a way to scramble down the cliff. Shortly after that, the waterhorse slowed to an ambling walk and stopped at the door of Sebastian's cottage.
    They could still hear the lake performing a slow dance with the sand and stone on the beach.
    The waterhorse sighed—and released him.
    Sebastian slid off its back, grateful for its help and wary of its nature. "Thank you," he said, moving around the other demon until he had his hand closed around the handle of the cottage's front door.
    It watched him for a moment, then turned and trotted back the way it had come.
    He'd intended to drop his pack and head out for the Den, but a lingering scent of woman made him check the other rooms in the cottage.
    He found Glorianna's note next to the bag of koffea beans.

    Sebastian,
    There's something I