The Tiger-Headed Horseman Read Online Free PDF Page B

get close to her. Even Lily's family felt uncomfortable spending any time with her.
    When Lily was about to find her gift upon her she would start to tingle all over. It was always the same. The tingling would start in her hands and work up her arms. She would begin to feel warmth flowing upwards from the pit of her stomach. Although she never felt faint, a reeling sense of parting from her body swept across her. This would be followed by a lull, before suddenly her eyes shot into extreme focus and she was able to call herself into the spirit world. In the early days she had no choice but to be pulled into the spirit world but as she matured so did her ability to control the portal between worlds through breathing, chanting and mental focus.While she was able to hide preliminary symptoms, as the portal opened her inner feelings became apparent to those around her. It must have petrified her parents. It most definitely petrified Lily.
    By the time she was ten years old Lily had learned that taking meals sitting away from the central table on her own was a nicer experience than eating in silence while everybody else stared at you, waiting for the chanting to begin. She also enjoyed simply observing her family and hearing what real people did day by day. Having no mother she had to find her own way. Lily never felt she had been intended, she felt alone; she had no siblings and there was no one to help her understand the world around her or begin to understand, or believe in, her gift. Her father was simply too busy being the leader to have much time for her, though she craved his affection.
    Being a shaman she was excused any of the many manual tasks necessary to group survival. By fifteen she had schooled herself. Sitting out of sight behind the round canvas gers where the group elders lived, Lily soon realised that by listening to them telling, and retelling, their stories to one another year after year she learned pretty much all she would ever need to know. She learned that invisible eagles soared far above overhead watching out for her people. If enemies came close, the eagles would let the group know. Of course this had never happened. The group had no enemies. The elders also spoke about cats as their enemies. Lily couldn't quite understand this – she loved cats. Stories were told about bad duplicitous people who were reborn as cats. She had to confess that there weren't any cats in her camp and that any that ventured too close were soon chased away.
    Having few people close to her, Lily spent much of her time alone on the Steppe. Although the group was slightly afraid ofher they did empathise with her solitude. Every birthday she would be given an animal, something with which she could spend her days: camels, marmots, hares . . . even birds of prey. For her fifth birthday Lily had received her first horse. Everybody in the group knew how to ride even before they took to a saddle. Lily was no exception. She loved to ride. The horses in Ongolium were far shorter and more hardy than their European cousins. The horses often only reached a man's chest but their size belied their ability. Whereas a European horse waited for its owner to dictate a course of action, the Ongolium horse knew what its master wanted the moment the two touched. The bond between Ongolian rider and their horse was almost as inexplicable as the spirit world where Lily was spending an increasing amount of her time.
    Lily's forays into the Steppe became longer and more distant. She was at home in the vast open spaces the Steppe offered and always yearned to be riding out beneath the eternal blue sky that was the hallmark of her country. She could not imagine any other place could offer such striking natural enormity. What had begun as the odd hour or so turned into whole days out on the Steppe or exploring nearby mountains. As she got older, her endurance levels grew and she was able to ride harder and further. By the time of her twentieth birthday she