By Rachel Ann Michael Harris
A whinny echoed across the hills and drifted through Sonora’s window. The sound settled around her, giving her goose bumps as she huddled deeper under her blankets.
With each wheezing breath, the bones rattled within her chest as she pushed herself up in bed on shaking arms and glanced out the cottage’s window. He stood on the hill behind her family’s home. Black and as still as the night.
The stallion first appeared the evening the sickness invaded her chest. And for weeks, as she grew weaker, he’d come galloping past at midnight, haunting her with his calls. The night she pointed him out to her brother, Desi, and he couldn’t see him, she knew. She was going to die. And the stallion was there to take her away.
The whinny came again. Covering her ears with her hands, she tried to block out his calls, but a coughing fit doubled her over, burning her lungs as each rasp ripped through her chest. She leaned back and sighed as another whinny pierced the air. Gritting her teeth, she tossed off the blankets and grabbed her cloak. Using the doorframe to brace herself, she breathed in the evening air before marching off, hunched over and swaying from side to side, into the night.
The large, black stallion waited atop the hill. His glossy coat reflected the night sky, and his thick mane rustled in the breeze. Hair grew around his hooves, which were quiet and steady. He didn’t paw at the ground with impatience or toss his head and snort as Sonora staggered up the hill.
She reached the top, gasping for breath, lightheaded with sparks flashing before her eyes from the exertion. With arms wrapped around herself, she gazed into his round eyes and lifted her chin.
“I know exactly who you are.” She coughed. “And you won’t steal me away.”
“I have no interest in stealing you,” the stallion said. His voice was patient and steady.
Sonora stepped back. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you fear me?”
“Because I don’t want to die!” She turned away and took a few wavering steps. “There’s still so much to do. The Harvest Festival is next week and… Desi is supposed to get married. Then the leaves will change color—bright reds and yellows like they’re on fire. When the snow comes, we’ll snuggle inside, and Papa will play music. And when spring arrives, I’ll be old enough to… And then my life will…” Hiccupping, Sonora collapsed in the grass, laid her head on her knees, and sobbed.
Gentle hoof steps moved beside her. He nuzzled her cheek with his velvety muzzle and said, “Do not fret over the future. The moon is bright, and the sky is clear. A lovely night for a ride. Have you ever ridden a horse at midnight?”
Sonora shook her head.
“Then climb on. We shall gallop across the countryside. The night air will do you good. You might even find some strength.”
“I don’t want to die,” Sonora whispered.
“Who said anything about dying? Climb up.” The horse lowered his head, his mane cascading down his neck, the tips brushing the grass.
Slowly, Sonora stood and grasped his withers. She swung her legs up and settled on his back.
He turned toward the open fields and headed down the hill. “Hold on now.”
First, it was a slow trot, steadily making their way across the field. Then he began to gallop, the wind tossing their hair back like banners atop castle spires. Soon he raced into a canter, flying across the land, passing homes and trees as they rushed toward the starry horizon.
The air flowed around and through Sonora. With each stride, she could breathe a little easier and sit a little straighter.
He splashed through a swift-moving creek and followed its flow downstream as the night’s stars reflected in its surface, blurring land and sky. Weightless as an eagle soaring on the breeze, Sonora laughed as the world lost hold of them. Stronger than ever before, the stallion’s thundering hooves matched the beat of her heart, building strength that could run forever with the peace of freedom. Feeling like she could fly, she closed her eyes and raised her arms.
“Sonora?”
A voice, distant and faint, echoed from behind.
She opened her eyes and glanced around. What was that?
“Sonora?”
Someone was calling to her. She tugged back on the horse’s mane. “Wait!”
He skidded to a stop.
The black of night and the twinkle of stars encompassed them. Are we among the stars?
“I have to go back.”
“I know,” he said. “Now is not your time.” Stepping to the right, water splashed as he waded to shore and stopped.
“Then why did you come?”
“So, when we do meet again, you will come to me as a friend.”
She swung her legs to one side. “What is your name?”
With a gentle bob of his head, he said, “Isra.”
She let go, and her feet touched the ground.
“Sonora?!”
Her eyes slowly blinked open as she groaned. Desi leaned over her, his hands on her shoulders, lifting her off her pillow. His arms trembled as he held her, tears running down his cheeks.
“I couldn’t wake you.” He closed his eyes and pulled her into a hug.
Wheezing with each breath, she laid her thin hand on his back. “It’s all right. I’m not going anywhere.”
She glanced out the window. Atop the hill stood the black stallion with the moon shining behind him. Tossing his head, he reared up before galloping away.
“At least, not tonight.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Absolutely beautiful, Rachel! I loved this!
Thank you, Beka. It was so fun to write and I love I got to make a story with a magical horse. :D
Wow, this is beautiful <3
Thank you, Cassie. I mixed a couple of things in here while writing it, such as some inspiration from a Twilight Zone episode.
Nice evocative details, and I always like brother/sister relationships.
Thanks, Zach. I also like Sonora and Desi’s relationship. Unfortunately we weren’t able to spend more time with them but I might have to revisit them someday.
This was so beautiful and sad. I loved the fairy tale feel.
Oh, thank you, Kevy. That means a lot. It is nice to hear when someone experiences a wide range of emotions to a story. It is a great compliment.
Beautiful and touching.
Thank you, CS. That means a lot. :)