Heralding the end of the day, the sun throws her last rays of burned orange over the shimmering peaks of Cho La. The great gathering of herdsmen, travelers, pilgrims, and other passersby, however, pays no heed to the pearly dusk edging in. The races are still in full swing, with no intention of ending soon.
Columns of pungent weisang curl straight into the blood red sky. Horse hooves pound the soft grounds to a pulp. Colorful scarfs rustle their silk in the crisp evening breeze, and the scores of tiny bells tinkle as the horses sway their heads—I’d almost forgotten what a spectacle the races are, a veritable feast to the senses.
My eyes widen as they catch the riders at full speed, scooping up scarves and shooting their arrows. My hand clasps Karma’s forearm as I’m caught up in the fre
