37. Chocolate (part 1)
Midday had arrived and Penn walked ahead of them, leading them back to the house. In his arms Peter carried a sackful of almonds. Willa had chocolate in her basket. Sweets wrapped in glossy yellows that soaked up the sunlight and teased his eyes.
"Do you like chocolate, Peter Lake?"
"Who doesn't like chocolate?"
"Maybe… you don't. That's why I'm asking." She squinted. "You asked the same thing earlier."
"I know I did," Peter chuckled. Willa stuck out her tongue. "Well, I think chocolate's alright. I… I have to ask, though, why did we get so much?"
"These are not all for us. There are other kids in the Coheeries. Some of them want chocolate, too."
Figures floated on the river of ice. Thickly dressed in black and maroon. Gliding gracefully. And Peter caught more than a few of them sneaking timid glances in their direction. Huffs of white. Quiet gasps.
"Why are they staring at us?"
"They're staring at you."
"What?"
"Yesterday, after you arrived with my sister, I was approached by every kid in town. They were asking about you." She made a face. "Well, really, they were asking about your horse."
Peter blinked, frowned. He said: "My horse?"
"The white horse."
"Yes, I know, but… but why?"
"I don't know. They say… mhm."
Willa stopped walking and looked up at Peter. A silver shadow arrowed the skin between her eyebrows. She motioned him down and he bent his knees so she could whisper to him.
"They say the horse has wings. That they could see them yesterday."
An amused smile crept up on Peter's lips. "Could they, now?"
"Mm-mhm."
"Well, do you believe them?"
"I saw the horse myself. I saw the wings. They say your horse is not made of hair and bones. That it's literally a sculpture of sunlight. That it's almost transparent and they can see through it. And one of them, one of the kids, he said he heard a story once, about a magical white horse that melted into the sunlight. He is convinced that your horse is Athansor, the white dog of the East."
"A horse is not a dog," Peter chuckled.
"Athansor can change into whatever he wants. He can be a dog. He can turn to children, too. And birds. He's a sort of friendly spirit. Meant to guide you to your destiny." And the child said: "You could try calling him by his name. Athansor. If your horse responds to it, then you'll know."
"Willa, he's not my horse."
"But… he's yours…"
"He's my friend. We don't belong to each other. He found me." With a chuckle he said: "Besides, I'm more his than he is mine. He's a very stubborn horse."
Willa's pale face twisted in frustration. "You're incapable of calling things what they are, are you, Peter Lake?"
"And you're too young to speak so eloquently," he told her, patting the fuzzy crown of her head. "Your father needs us, let's go."
She stuck out her tongue one more time. But she did go with him. And before they actually reached the threshold, Peter asked one final question.
"Does your sister like chocolate?"
"She never takes a chocolate bar, when we bring them. She says they're for the children. And for me."
"But does she like it?"
Willa chuckled: "You said it yourself, Peter: who doesn't like chocolate?"
Author's Note: In the movie, John is the one who tells Peter about Athansor, and the scene just happens and Peter immediately believes it and moves on with his life. In here I want him to really savor the fact that the white horse is Athansor, just because I like to take things slowly. So... this will not be the only chapter that mentions it. It's only the beginning.
Thank you for reading, whoever happens to be here today. See you next time!