CHAPTER 6
By Monday late morning, George had carved out some free time for himself and intended to devote it to research in the human world, not to mention checking up on whatever Ceridwen had hinted at. He tested Mosby’s girth and made sure the pouch strapped behind his saddle was buckled shut. It held all the relevant paperwork about his parents, and he chuckled as he stuck his booted foot in the stirrup and threw a leg over. No briefcase for me, for going to the office, just a saddlebag. Very strange.
He paused to think about that for a moment. Out of habit he’d included his saber, mounted to the saddle underneath his left thigh. He sighed. He’d remembered to put on clothing simple enough to be unremarkable in the human world but had forgotten to do the same for his horse.
He waved o
