Chapter Fourteen: The Phantom Horse

Sarah relented without a word in protest. Sweetness flowed, surrounding every
aspect of her being, binding her with the man who now tenderly loosened the tight buttons
that held the bodice against her flesh. She could nearly feel the tingle of electricity and
magic, abounding from her lover's deft fingers.

She reached out with a hand, shivering, and stroked his face, producing the image
of her lover in her mind. The finely chiseled aquiline nose, resting between two changeling
eyes, brimmed with nearly blonde lashes, and accentuated by his elegantly arched
eyebrows. Sarah brought the same searching hand to thread through his hair, but found
the lustrous golden locks suddenly gone.

Then he traced a hand down her sternum, guiding the crimson dress downwards,
and nearly exposing her supple figure to the world. Sarah arched her back and suddenly,
without warning, her dream encrusted image of the man atop her, faded, broke, and
completely fell away. With a fear that rose from her very soul, she snapped her eyes open,
terrified of whom had taken over her thoughts in this way.

Peter raised his eyes, looking at her. Her cheeks instantly flushed and she turned
her gaze away with a quick aversion. Sarah swallowed and pushed at the man atop her,
trying desperately to rid herself of his weight, his presence, and the feeling that she had
done everything wrong.

"Peter, please," she begged, pushing and shoving with the last bits of her energy.

He sat back, perhaps entirely shocked, or merely put out of the mood by her
defiant behavior. Either way, Sarah immediately clutched the crimson material to her
bosom and glared at the man, whom had once been almost considered a savior in her
mind. Now, however, she could hardly control the heaves that threatened to force their
way upon her.

"I don't understand you, Sarah. You seem to enjoy our relationship, and then
appear sickened by the very sight of me. What do you want? What are you hiding?
There's some mystery that no one can discover, and I feel that it has only deepened since
you arrived here, at Fontridge," Peter stated.

Sarah placed a shivering hand to her damp forehead. Her deep brown hair, laid
matted against the perspiration and stuck uncomfortably to her bare shoulders and face.
She pulled a few strands from around her mouth and then shook her head, unable to even
answer the mystery herself. He had struck so very close, too near for comfort, to what
was bothering her, and at once Sarah retaliated with anger.

"No, I don't think that you've thought a moment about what I feel, or have felt,
but rather how you can finally control me...have me," she whispered and then rose from
the bed abruptly to leave the constricting room, so hot and smelling of faint cologne and
perfume.

She turned the knob, but not without his presence coming forth again. A strong
hand guided the door back to its frame, and Sarah slowly withdrew her hand from the
golden handle. She turned her chocolate, flashing eyes upwards and glared viciously at
Peter's attempts to keep her restrained. She did not want him guessing further as to what
her problem was.

"Let me pass!" Her voice came as venom from her ruby lips.

Peter broke between her and the door, and placed his hands, rough but not
painfully, upon her slick shoulders.

"Sarah, I can help you, but not when I'm pushed aside like this. Just tell me where
you got the dress, why you were in the room... be truthful with me and I will do
everything in my power to help," Peter begged as he removed his smooth hands.

She caught and held his emerald gaze, entirely split as to what to do, where to go,
and what to say. Amidst all the confusion her self-preservation returned as did a burning
anger. It was her only way to remain safe, to distance herself from the world... and all
who dwelled in it, even those who cared.

She tried to brush past him, at last turning her eyes to the ground. Despite her
attempts, there was no breaking free. Peter would not be left in the dark any longer. He
was, after all, her employer, and had been understanding. Still, she was unable to see his
true intentions and forced out another bitter comment.

"What do 'you' want Peter? Why create a play, hire actors, and only write at
night? Or, am I not important enough to ask such an overwhelming question?" she
inquired.

With that Peter visibly weakened. He slumped backwards, if only slightly, and
stepped away from the door. Sarah nearly felt a pain of guilt flash within herself, at the
obvious damage she had inflicted. However, her opportunity of freedom was a more
enticing prospect than mucking in silly feelings of compassion for someone who... She
would not allow herself to dwell on what was lost.

With Peter still humbled, and head hung in silent self-damnation, Sarah skirted past
and drew open the large, wooden door. She almost said something, hesitating with her
hand still resting on the golden door knob, but found herself speechless. She was entirely
aware that the scene that had played out in the room had been observed, and carefully, by
the other actors still waiting.

Sarah only briefly looked at Peter, and the anger that had replaced his original
concern. He shook his head, ever so slowly and deliberately, to assure Sarah's seeing the
movement, and then brushed his hand through the air, dismissing her from the room.
Sarah did not need this formal invitation, for she had already hurried through the doorway.

Instantly she was out in the open, her dress worse for the wear, and hanging quite
seductively off her shoulders, baring the top of her bosom to the whole world, or rather
those of the actors that turned to look at the bedraggled Sarah. She opened her deep, but
reddened, eyes to the crowd and shuddered, feeling her bareness to the very core of her
being. At the head of the others stood the blonde actor, whom had been so vicious when
last they met, a cocky smirk resting on his face as he began snickering. In one quick
swoop, she gathered the many skirts under her and rushed blindly down the first hall that
she found, leaving laughter behind herself.

Sarah cringed, knowing that no matter what she did, she would always lose. It
was utterly hopeless, fighting the entire world in this way. If all believed her to be an utter
failure, then it was best to admit it to herself, and discontinue the harsh steps she took to
barely manage an acceptable survival. Tears followed this revelation, and blurred her
surroundings as she ran.

To simply top off her morning, one of the long gauzy trails of the dress, slipped
from her clutching hands and caught beneath her foot. Sarah tumbled forward, unable to
emit a single sound of protest as the ground connected with her elbows, and then her
chest. She moaned, and then gasped, the air completely gone from her lungs in that one
swift fall.

"I just want them to suffer as I have, I want them to know what they've done to
me!" Sarah sobbed.

She shivered uncontrollably and slowly, her entire body feeling weak and unable to
abide by her commands, rose to a sitting position. Sarah cringed at the shock of blood
that had covered her exposed elbows. The dress' long sleeves were torn, perhaps beyond
any hope of repair. Such a masterpiece, and she had ruined it as well. It seemed that
anything that came into her grasps suffered, at the very least.

She wiped at the blood and then placed the same stained hand down on the
stone-covered ground. Nearby a trickling ray of filtered sunshine touched the ground, but
Sarah knew that it would soon fade. There was quite a storm outside. Thunder rumbled
nearby, and the first sounds of rain struck the pane near her side.

Slowly, but deliberately, the light faded to nothing, leaving her chilled in the semi
darkness, save the gentle luminance from the overhead lamps that lined the long corridor.
Sarah glanced warily towards the window, her breath still hitching, but what few tears she
had shed, were promptly dried at the rumbling thunder. It seemed to be coming nearly
from overhead, and shortly later she caught the first glimpse of lightning's eerie white
light.

Sarah sniffed back her emotions, and carefully rose to her feet. She cringed in
pain, her knees screaming in agony as they stiffened and finally both popped in unison.
Her elbows had at last dulled to a throbbing ache, which was, at least, bearable. She drew
back the wine-colored drapes, formed from crushed velvet, and gazed out into the wilds of
the storm.

It had grown as dark as night, leaving only a scant gray twilight to filter through
the heavy clouds overhead. Their massive rolling bellies, bulged with rain, threatening to
break out at any moment and completely drown the country side. However, only a few
sprinkling splashes of water remained upon the window, not the torrential downpour that
Sarah mentally forecasted.

Another flash of lighting traced across the violent-looking sky. It's eerie white
illumination cast across Fontridge's grand yard, making it seem almost like an intense
moonlight. She looked downwards as the lightning faded, and found a whiteness that
remained behind.

A phantasmal horse bowed gently in the gusting wind, which ripped at the woods
that surrounded the mansion. It's silver mane and tail flowed and tangled in the mighty
blows, but it braced itself, head down low, but eyes fixed upon....

Sarah immediately dropped the delicate drape and pressed her back firmly against
the wooden wall. She placed a single trembling hand upon her mouth, trying to contain
the utter turmoil of thoughts, doubts, and fears that rested upon her weakened psyche.
The horse had looked at her, had actually acknowledged her as if trying to communicate in
some lowly form.

She turned her head, only slightly, just so as to see out of the crack of window that
was left open from the obtrusive curtain. Still she could see the equine's figure, swaying
in the wind, but still fixated upon the window, and still silently begging Sarah to do as her
heart yearned. Sarah, however, cast away her inner feelings and turned to run from the
apparition and unnerving thoughts.

"What am I thinking?" Sarah asked herself as she paused and glanced back,
knowing that still the horse was standing outside, looking at the window.

She lowered her own head at that thought, which swayed her original decision of
retreat. There was something out there, and the mystery surrounding it held Sarah
prisoner in a mist of uncertainty. She could not deny the urging gaze of the silent ethereal
steed, waiting in the storm.

Sarah cast away the curtain, tearing it completely from its hanging rod. It landed
in a crumpled heap, as if spilled wine upon the stone floor. Only a few inches from it,
Sarah's own blood had marked the gray ground, leaving the immaculate Fontridge worse
for the wear.

"I'm coming," Sarah called, and glanced about her to assure herself that no one
else was watching this strange act of obvious insanity.

She pulled the heavy window open, praying that it would remain stationary, so that
she would not face a certainly humorous situation of being stuck in the frame. However,
what with Fontridge's pristine condition, never once did the immaculate window slide
back down, even when Sarah rapped her injured elbow against the wooden molding at the
base.

The horse reared as lightning cast its light upon the land. Sarah screamed in
shock, and tumbled from the ledge, plummeting nearly five feet until landing in the midst
of the thick, trimmed hedges surrounding most of the mansion. Her dress, torn and
tattered from the abuse it had received, did not even resemble the original crimson
masterpiece that Sarah had primarily seen the night prior.

"Wait," Sarah called, pulling herself free from the catching twigs, which scratched
at her chest and legs ruthlessly.

She tripped from the bush, landing in a heap upon the ground. Even with the scant
touch of rain, mud puddles had already formed, and now splashed upon the many layers of
skirts. Sarah ignored it all, and rose to her legs, determined to follow this strange horse to
whatever mystery it held.

Yet, just as she reached out one single tentative hand to stroke the wild mare's
muzzle, she shied away, and promptly pivoted around on her hind legs. With a fury of
strides, the horse galloped further into the forest, spraying mud and bits of grass at Sarah's
bare feet.

Her face broke into utter despair. This had been her final hope, a horse?? Had she
truly believed that the simple gray mare held some divine answer to all her problems that
circulated through her life? Sarah sunk dismally to the ground, sitting in the middle of one
puddle, just as the rain began to patter down from overhead.

"Sarah," the voice called, almost an echo, but she heard it despite the gentle
qualities.

Sarah at once lifted her head, and wiped away the tears, which had blended already
with the raindrops dripped from her matted hair. She tossed her long chestnut hair over
her shoulders, spraying a stream of water in the process, and focused on the gentle voice,
which had come from the forest.

With another burst of hope, Sarah forced herself from the puddle, tugging at her
heavy garments, which had only been weighed down more from the excess water. She
struggled through the trees, and thick undergrowth. Everything tore at her precious
gown, leaving remnants of crimson material strewn throughout the forest.

"Please, please wait. I... I can't," Sarah begged, lurching forward to grasp a thick
tree as she nearly collapsed once again.

From some distance, though Sarah was no longer capable of judging in the heavy
rain, the lovely gray mare broke through the browns and greens of the woods. She threw
her noble head, casting sparkling trails of water from her flowing mane. Sarah watched,
eyes widened in awe and anticipation. Surely this was a sign, and Sarah was meant to
follow the horse.

She hurried onwards, following right at the heels of the mare at times, but mostly
remained nearly out of sight of the magnificent animal. Still, Sarah diligently plowed
through the thick branches, dragging her drenched garments through the sticky mud.
With every step, the dress seemed heavier, gathering debris as she continued on, without
an end in sight.

Then, as if the heavens themselves had suddenly found the need to punish the
lowly mortals for their sins, a cascade of lightning sputtered down, striking a tree
somewhere nearer to the mansion. Sarah spun about, and watched in horror as a massive
array of sparks jumped into the dark sky, most extinguished instantly by the torrential flow
of rain, pummeling the woods. However, a few splintered bits of the struck tree, lit upon
others, dried for one reason or another, and a sputtering flame leapt into the air, defying
all rationale by burning in the midst of the rain.

Sarah turned back, finding herself hopelessly behind the mare, and lost as well.
She knew, despite her best attempts, she would never make it back to Fontridge. This left
but one choice, to continue on after the horse. This, after all, was at least a plan, no
matter how stupid and thoughtless it seemed.

Sarah paused and sighed deeply. The horse had led her to a dead end, where the
trees and bushes completely blocked off any hopes of making a way through. She tried to
push aside several branches, thick with needles and leaves, but was unable to so much as
make a bit of headway. Instantly another branch would slide downwards, and cover the
hole in the foliage wall.

"Fine!" Sarah screamed through the rain, and the wind, and the thunder which
roared directly overhead.

It seemed as if the world itself was undergoing its Armageddon. The sky had
changed to an eerie shade, almost green in its dark complexion. Sarah shivered, feeling
suddenly the freezing wind against her wet body, and through her dripping hair. Even her
eyelashes were beaded with rainwater.

Sarah hiked up the skirts and then dug her feet into the dense wall of trees and
bushes. She gripped handfuls of limbs, and pulled herself upwards, straining against the
added weight of rain, mud and material. The rain pounded, almost trying to fight to keep
her down and away from what exactly was past this particular natural phenomenon.

Sarah cringed in pain, her elbows flaring as the rain bit into the raw flesh. The
stitches upon her wrists pulled, threatening to tear the newly healed wounds. Even the
bandages, stained as they were, had begun to unravel and dangle down from her arms.

With one final burst of strength, Sarah grabbed the top of the "wall" and gazed
over, to see what she had struggled to reach. Her chocolate eyes opened wide in shock
and amazement, at the sight that laid before her.

It rested nearly in the open, though one could only witness the sight after trekking
through the thick woods. Massive rock walls, reaching nearly three stories in some
places, and crumbled to only scattered bits of dust in others, surrounded a vast area. An
old metal door, rusted and beyond any hope of repair, laid overgrown with shrubbery and
patchy moss.

Directly before the broken door, stood the mare, her mane whipping in the wind
and rain slipping down her soft coat. She turned and gazed at Sarah, and then tossed her
head. Her job had been done, and she galloped off into the forest, disappearing after a few
scant moments.

Sarah looked back at what she had found and took in a deep, ragged breath. They
were ruins of some massive estate and, frighteningly enough, resembled the Goblin King's
castle.