19. Silver (part 2)
The wind gathered under the white horse and Peter Lake. The street thundered. The winter came into his mouth and devoured him from the inside out. Congealed his blood, his organs, his bones. He was a man of ice, and begging, gasping.
No-no-no-no-no…
The blade in Pearly's hand was a fog of silver light. Curved and seductive. Jagged at the sides. Beverly's eyes were closed and she was clenching her jaw. She trembled. And as Peter, frozen and terrified, galloped forward, she frowned at Pearly Soames without even meeting his gaze.
His arm speared to the side, the movement so quick and so sudden Peter felt a stab of pain in his shoulder. The silver clattered violently from the satchel. The tray and the knives. The white horse's hooves made a frantic drumming. Peter reached down. He remembered reaching out for the man, the fence. His arm coiled around his neck. The pleads. It was all orders, Pete. All orders.
And whose orders? Pearly's. Pearly Soames. That man in front of Beverly. That man with the knife. That son of a bitch. That bastard. That coward. That animal.
Peter Lake said her name, at the top of his lungs, a noise full of rage and panic and terror, and his throat hurt too, as if he had not said a word for centuries, as if it had been sealed away by frost and ice and become another relic of this god-forsaken winter.
It was a horrific sound that made Peter frightened of himself for a second. But when he caught a glimpse of Beverly's thick blue eyes as she turned toward him, she only seemed pale. Her jaw was set and her body was rigid. She was a marble statue. Her expression, set in stone. Pearly's colorless face turned and the sunlight plastered itself like a spiderweb to his skin.
Her hand dug into his coat, into the flesh of his arm. And Peter Lake took her. Took her with all his might. Dragged her onto the saddle with a single pull. The white horse, in a way, facilitated this motion. It was running at impossible speed by the time Peter reached them. Beverly gasped behind him. Her arms went around his middle.
The wind was thickening. The white horse carried them away.
Author's Note: If there's anyone here today, thank you for reading.