Chapter Thirty

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It feels good to be outside again. Dust billows off my every step. The waning light spears it through to a rich golden color. The horizon is bloodied with the sun's descent; clouds overhead blush a gentle pink.

The hospital's stiff, lingering atmosphere is blown away in the breeze, dried in the sun. I smile over my shoulder so that my father, sitting in the truck behind me, will know I'm alright. I catch a glimpse of his face through the grubby windshield. Our eyes meet, his chin goes down, and I turn myself back to walking. A moment later I hear the truck's tires retreating down the driveway. Then the creaking metal and trail of crunching gravel recede, and he's gone.

Excluding a week's bed rest at the hospital, it's been declared Chase will be back on his feet in 'a jiffy and no less', as the doctor put it. Pat seems to be doing better, too, though I don't delude myself. My heart sinks a little at the thought of her imminent future.

The russet dog comes around the corner of the house, tail wagging and eyes doleful.

"Hungry, are you?" I ask him. His forehead crinkles as he cocks his ears, and a low whine slips past his drooping tongue.

Though he's normally an outside dog, I take pity and let Rascal follow me into the house. The customary obnoxious smell of liver floods the kitchen as soon as I peel open a can of dog food. I watch it ooze slowly into a crusty dog dish, give it a few halfhearted prods with a fork, and then set it down under Rascal's drooling snout. I exit the house to the sound of his gasps and gulps. Before I can even leave the porch he comes bounding after me, expression proud. I've no doubt he's set some kind of canine record.

"Stupid dog," I mutter affectionately. Rascal pants next to me as we walk to the barn, unconcerned with me or my opinions.

Devany is bent gracefully to the ground, tearing grass from his pasture with relish. He straightens at the sound of my footsteps. When I call out to him, his ears tip up and he whinnies an answer. For a moment I stand back, admiring the way his mane hangs off his neck in winding tendrils, the way his silhouette is framed by the setting sun.

He meets me at the rail and pushes at me with his nose. His breath is warm on my hands, his coat baked by the sun. I press my cheek against his velvet one. My eyes close. I match my breathing to his, wait until something between us clicks and his energy softens, melds with mine.

A bug whirs across Devany's flank, loud in the otherwise quiet evening. Devany quivers, swishes his tail, eyes trained on me. They're big and earnest; I can see my own face reflected in their liquidy depths.

Eventually I slip off the fence and onto his back. My toes dangle in the air, my fingers instinctively entangle themselves in his mane. I lean forward and press my face into his neck. I'm not certain if peace can be described as an emotion, but it's what I feel. My every thought is subdued by the certainty he - any horse- gives me. The power, the speed, the potential... and the gentle, plodding steps he arranges over the ground as he trims grass a meter in each direction.

For the first time since my last ride, I let my thoughts revert to Eclipse. At first I steal quick memories, mentally poke at her ghost. To my surprise there's no guilt, nothing broken. My mind slowly envelopes her, holds everything I can remember of her as though it's glass, and checks for damage.

I broke my vow, to her and myself.

I saved Chase.

I didn't hurt Devany.

I'm riding him again, not because of an emergency, but because I want to.

The facts meet slowly, as though a child is knitting them clumsily together. But through whatever strange tangle of emotions, of intentions, of tears, the final product is not regret.

I hear a nicker, suddenly, and it's not Devany's. This one is high and sweet and achingly familiar. My heart stops in my chest. Every muscle in me tightens like a bowstring stretched to fire. It seems to take hours for me to lift my head, for Devany's mane to fall away from my vision.

And there she is.

Slender, glossy, beautiful - Eclipse. Her figure is hazy, darkened against the setting sun. She lifts her legs in that delicate way of hers, sets them gently on the grass. I hear her nicker, watch her approach. I'm frozen in disbelief, all too aware of the impossibility of the situation.

I raise myself up on Devany's back, vision suddenly blurred with tears.

"Eclipse?" I whisper. She nickers again, the sound a breathy warble. She's closer now, though I can't tell if she's actually stepping or simply gliding forwards. Despite the hot evening, breath rises in plumes of mist from her nostrils. There's traces of frost in her mane, and though a breeze stirs the leaves of a nearby trees and my own hair, not a strand of her mane moves.

Devany's ears are pricked towards her, which is my only indication I haven't completely gone crazy. Eclipse's soft eyes latch first onto him, and the two horse's exchange nudges and nips. Then Devany bows his head and the two of them blow air at each other like old friends. My throat is constricted. She's close enough to touch now. Her silken coat is mere feet away.

She turns her liquid gaze on me, and her ears flop forward. I extend a trembling hand, but it looks pale and lonely in the air. With the fluidity of a dancer she steps right into my touch, and her eyes drift closed. For a few minutes there's nothing but the sound of her breathing. Then even that stops and her sides freeze. I watch as slowly her eyes reopen, still fastened on me. The expression in the soft hollow above her eye, the slight wrinkle of her lip, and the delicate flutter of her lash seem to say one thing...

It's alright.

I spread my fingers over the white whorl under her forelock. She's cold as ice to the touch, but even so a warmth is swelling over my arm. Eclipse grows impossibly bright, or perhaps it's just the rest of the world darkening. She presses her face against my hand for a single second, then withdraws. I try to scream, "No!" but the sky, Devany, the grass, everything - it's all gone black, and even Eclipse is fading.

For a moment the darkness is absolute. Then I'm blinking against it and the black starts to gain definition, is sharpened with shades and layers. I'm aware of something somewhat scratchy in my face, and when I pull back Devany's mane gives way to a normal, sun-strewn pasture.

I realize with a jolt I must have drifted off. The warm feeling is still in my arm and heart, though, and I can't shake the feeling it was more than a dream. Devany is standing stiffly, ears pricked to where Eclipse stood. I run a trembling hand down his neck, and in my finger's wake he softens. It's like smoothing out clay, massaging all the tension until both he and I are calm.

My heels meet his sides with a gentle tap, and he moves off eagerly. We walk around the pasture, until I feel I'm fully back in reality. Only then do I let myself review the details of the dream - if that's what it was - but suddenly it's like trying to hold water with my bare hands. The majority of it is draining away into oblivion, until all I can remember is Eclipse's solemn eyes locked on mine, and what they seemed to say.

It's alright. It's all right.

The attached video has nothing to do with this chapter. It's not supposed to be Era, Eclipse, or Devany. It's just really cool ^-^ And when I say cool I mean utter perfection...

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