Chapter 90
Kadda-rump-kadda-rump-kadda-rump-kadda-rump!
The drumming thrummed against her very soul, kickstarting the fire deep inside her heart, lighting it. Coursing through her veins like silver lightning.
Who-ooo-ooo...
The wind whistled against her eardrums as her hair whipped out behind her. Her watering eyes narrowed against it, staring through the waves of heat, focusing on the prize over a mile away that seemed to shimmer in the sand.
She tapped her bootshod heels against those rippling sides, the stirrup leather making a light popping noise as she clucked once, leaning over his neck, her fingers braided into his waving mane, pulling slightly on the right rein in an unspoken signal. The rolling power underneath her went right as smoothly as an eagle would coast an updraft.
The metal pieces in the leather equipment clinked lightly against each other, adding their own effect.
Out of the corner of her eye, Avalina could see the gwythaint off to their left, slicing through the air like a knife.
"Go, boy, go!" Avalina cried in excitement, adrenaline flooding her system.
"Let's race!"
Mitternacht needed no urging. Powerful hindquarters kicked out again and again, fast as a striking cougar, propelling him forward like a streak of glossy black lightning, as his front legs struck out like flying arrows, seeming to swallow up the ground before him like the sea itself.
Avalina hugged him tightly through the leather with her legs, trying to move as little as possible.
The screeching call of the pumping gwythaint overhead was rivaled only by Mitternacht's challenging whistle that he trumpeted back in reply.
Avalina's stomach rose to her throat as her mount plunged down a fair-sized hill, whipping by a few gnarled dead trees. This dip would cost them precious time, but that couldn't be helped. She saw the gwythaint above her pull ahead.
Mitternacht saw this too, and she felt him give more for each stride. He knew exactly what was going on, and he was determined.
Avalina's stomach sank heavily back down inside her rib cage as Mitternacht hit the crest of the hill like a tidal wave, his ears swiveled forward, racing for his goal.
A shadow fell across them as Mitternacht drew up directly under the gwythaint.
For a long moment, they hung there, as if suspended in time, the horse blanketed in shadow, the gwythaint blocking the sun.
The horse's muzzle came into the sunlight, the rest quickly following, like a splash of black released from the night, and Avalina held him tight as he pulled ahead, his tail whipping behind him like a banner.
The yards of golden dust flashed by beneath them like a mystic dream, blurring into nothingness as Mitternacht snorted in excitement, his ears flicked back to listen to the cracking flaps of the gwythaint's wings.
They were going at a speed that defied all limits. A speed that nothing in the world could hope to ever match.
For they were one.
And they had wings of their own.
"Good boy, Mitternacht!" Avalina called softly in his ear, excitement in every syllable.
The horse snorted and gave her even more.
Three hundred yards to the drawbridge. . .two hundred. . .Avalina strained over his neck as far as she could, gripping his mane so tightly her knuckles were white.
Sweat streaked the horse's sides, mingling with the dust he kicked up.
"Come on, boy, almost there!"
The horse was galloping all out, not a single bit of energy or power reserved. His ears were laced back flat against his head, all but hidden in his tossing mane, his neck leaning out in front of him in a streamlined posture.
His breath came like a fiery bellows, but he was not going to quit.
Avalina cast a glance behind her, seeing the gwythaint's shadow coasting along the ground several feet behind them, its wings pumping heavily.
Mitternacht's hooves struck the wood of the drawbridge like Thor's Mjölnir, leaving pale impact marks all down the wood. Splinters flew from the weathered structure as he cleared the last few feet of ground in a massive leap, leaving the ground behind.
Clickety-clack!
Mitternacht knew it was over, and he heeded the gentle tension on his reins, slowing down as easily as his colossal speed would allow. Avalina did not tax him, letting him stop at his own pace, which he did, cantering over nearly half the courtyard before he could easily trot to a stop without sawing his hooves apart on the cobblestones.
Mitternacht also knew that he had won, and he held his head high.
"Good boy, Mitternacht!" Avalina cried happily, hugging him.
"Good boy!"
The horse snorted in triumph as his rider walked him over to the gwythaint, who was perched on the stone bench in the courtyard, its mouth open as it panted heavily. Mitternacht's sides heaved as he drew in another breath, stamping once and tossing his mane in a victory pose.
"Why so sour-looking, Creeper?" Avalina asked cheerfully, panting herself.
"That's the fastest time we've ever gone yet! Either of us!"
Sitting back in the saddle, she could still feel her heart thudding hard beneath her ribs, just as she could feel the horse's thudding behind his own, the vibrations traveling through her legs.
"You had a headstart," Creeper said grumpily.
"I did not!" Avalina gasped out indignantly.
"We started at the exact same time."
The goblin huffed irritably.
"Oh, don't be a sore loser, now," Avalina said.
"Please? It takes all the fun out of racing with you."
"The sun was in my eyes."
Avalina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Alright, I believe you."
Avalina turned the horse back toward the drawbridge.
"I've got to cool him off, I'll be back."
Avalina gently asked Mitternacht for a trot, which he immediately obliged, clopping lightly over the drawbridge and back out into the dusty wasteland that surrounded the castle.
After a minute of trotting around, she asked him to walk, but he wasn't ready to quit. His blood was still aflame, and he wanted to gallop some more.
Prancing lightly sideways, having gotten a second wind, he pulled his head up and pricked his ears pointedly toward the green, rolling hills, and snorted in a very obvious manner.
He wanted to go there.
Following his gaze, Avalina felt her heart twist painfully, as it always did. It was so easy to imagine them racing through those hills again, she felt her eyes sting suddenly, but she choked it down before they could spill over.
"I'm sorry, boy," Avalina told him sadly, trying not to cry.
"We can't."
Mitternacht stamped a foot in frustration. He did not understand. His rider and he had loved to gallop through those hills together for years, so why didn't she want to now? They hadn't done it in months. She had been so happy a moment ago, and now she was sad. Why?
He gave a soft rumble in his chest and turned around to look at her.
"It's alright, Mitternacht, I'm fine. But I'm sorry that I can't take you up there. Maybe we can again, someday, but. . .not now."
Mitternacht gave a deep sigh and reluctantly slowed to a walk, his ears turned back to listen to her.
Avalina scratched his neck in a comforting manner.
"But we're together, and that's what counts."
Feeling a fog of depressing thoughts trying to ruin her beautiful day, she turned her back on that lavish countryside, almost hearing the wind calling her.
'Avalina, come!' It whispered.
'Come home!'
Apparently Mitternacht heard it too, for he tensed and chomped his bit, almost begging her to turn around.
Swallowing hard, she ignored it and walked back into her cobblestone prison, the voice mercifully falling silent as she did so. She hated doing this to Mitternacht, she hated these painful feelings and wished they would go away, but you could not just simply throw away the memories of the only life you had ever known and forget it.
The essence of her past would haunt her dreams tonight, she knew.
Sighing, she dismounted and dropped Mitternacht's reins to the ground by the stable door, near the bench where the gwythaint was still perched.
Over the weeks they had become more than simply accustomed to each other. They had become friends, and Avalina could swear they would actually speak to each other.
It the daylight permitted or if Creeper was in a good mood, she and the goblin would groom their mounts together in the courtyard and just talk. Creeper was still prickly, but conversation flowed easily between he and Avalina whenever they were near each other.
Most of the time.
"Oh, Creeper, I've been reading a lot, and I've finally decided on a name for the gwythaint," Avalina told him happily as she removed Mitternacht's saddle.
"Wanna hear?"
"Sure," the goblin grumbled.
"What do you think of Taranau Adeon?"
Creeper stopped wiping the dust off the gwythaint's neck.
"What now?"
Avalina repeated it.
"That would be great, but I would greatly appreciate a name I knew how to pronounce," Creeper said snidely.
"You can learn," Avalina said happily, "But I didn't pick it because it sounded nice. I mean, it does, but that's not the point. Do you know what it means?"
Creeper huffed.
"No, but something tells me you're going to tell me anyway."
"Taranau Adeon quite literally means, 'Thunder Wings.' And I thought it fitted her perfectly."
Creeper turned away, busying himself with wiping down the gwythaint's wings.
"It'll do, I guess. How'd you pick such a silly sounding name?"
"The first time I rode her, when she flung her wings out to coast over the courtyard, they cracked like thunder. And it may sound silly, but if she likes it, she needs to keep it."
"She won't tell the difference."
Avalina fought to keep her irritation down.
"Try it and see."
"You try. I'm not strangling myself over those words just to please you."
"Fine."
Avalina approached the gwythaint, letting her sniff her over.
"Hey girl, what do you think of your new name?" She asked softly, staring into the gwythaint's glowing eyes.
"Taranau Adeon."
The gwythaint cocked its head to the side, listening to the syllables.
Avalina repeated it again, the gwythaint ruffling her wings once before bobbing her head down in a quick motion, like a bird would do.
"Well, there you have it!" Avalina chuckled to Creeper, who looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon.
"Taranau Adeon it is! But if you want, you can give her a nickname, i'm sure she wouldn't mind."
Creeper rubbed his temples, fixing her with his good eye.
"Oh, it *will* be a nickname. I value my tongue too much to have it fall off from saying such weird words."
"Well, you're picking it out, I've done the hard part."
"I will do no such thing. She's lived without a name this long, she can live a little long-ah!"
The gwythaint had spread its wings out, throwing Creeper off the bench and sprawling in the courtyard, as it made a sound of indignation.
"I don't think you have much of a choice, Creeper," Avalina said, laughing.
"The lady has spoken!"
The Horned King had watched them, his brow ridges climbing steadily higher, as they had raced toward the castle, each of them determined to win.
They had done this for weeks. It was obvious all four of them loved a good race, and he had noticed they had only gotten swifter with the days.
He couldn't believe his eyes when the horse actually pulled ahead and won by several feet. He had stared at the massive dust cloud for some time, just frozen, waiting for it to clear.
He had thought for centuries that gwythaints and others in the dragon family were the swiftest creatures on the planet. Nothing could match their speed or their aggression, which is why he used them to carry out his orders.
And yet, he had just watched one suffer defeat from a beast of labor and the peasant girl who rode him.
He had known ever since he laid eyes on him that the horse was not quite your average equine. The animal had been able to keep pace with the gwythaint in the past, either tying or losing by sparse margins, but he had kept up, which the Horned King had previously thought impossible from any land creature.
That was new. A horse of his type shouldn't be that fast. They were bred for massive strength, endurance, and courage on the battlefield, but speed was not one of their strong points. The Horned King had to admit that he knew rather little of horses, and the black animal was not a heavy horse by any means, although he sported many of their characteristics. He supposed he would have to question Avalina about it.
Something else that was thoroughly intriguing was that the horse, (Mitternacht, was it?) after the first couple of days, had shown no more fear of the gwythaint, and the gwythaint had not tried to attack or savage him even once. In fact, the lich had observed from a distance that they seemed to enjoy the other's company.
A predator and the prey, standing together peacefully in the courtyard while their riders cared for them. That was something he had previously thought to be impossible.
He had seen Avalina and the horse pause, staring back toward their homeland, just standing there in the dust, watching, the breeze rippling the horse's tail and the girl's hair. He could hear nothing from his window, but no words were necessary for their body language to communicate the longing, the homesickness they both possessed.
The Horned King's chest twitched heavily as he watched them, before feeling the dull pressure increase ever so slightly as they turned and slowly walked back into the courtyard, their sadness more then obvious.
The Horned King wished she would not look like that. It made the stone that lay perpetually on his chest heavier than usual.
She wanted to go home, and for the briefest of moments, he realized he was actually considering letting her.
He banished the thought immediately.
'I cannot release her,' he thought grimly, his hands clenching slowly.
'The Horned King does not release prisoners. And without her, I would possess no hope at all. All of Prydain would know of my return, and I would lose the tiniest chance that I have now.'
The Horned King forced the thoughts from his mind.
'She is my prisoner, and as such, she belongs to me. She cannot leave.'
He gritted his fangs tightly, beginning to get angry with her.
'She said so herself, she never had a chance to read so much or play music so often before. She loves to do both very much, and she says the garden is doing well. She enjoys talking to me, she admitted it. So why can't she be happy here? Why?'
The lich cleared his mind of all thoughts pertaining to the topic before the tiny voice in his head could contradict themselves. He did not want to hear what it had to say relating to the matter.
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