Pegasus and the Flame (3 page)

‘This is crazy!’ she said. Even as she spoke, she was climbing out of bed. ‘You’re not going up there …’

But it was as though her body and mind weren’t speaking to each other. The more Emily’s mind tried to stop herself, the more determined her body was to investigate the strange sounds coming from the roof.

Emily drew on her long raincoat, reached for the apartment keys and made for the door. As a quick afterthought, she grabbed the baseball bat they kept for security beside the door.

With only the single beam from the flashlight to show her the way, Emily climbed the stairs. She heard hushed sounds of footsteps and chattering voices as more of the building’s occupants used the stairwell to get to their homes.

‘This isn’t smart, Em. There’s lightning up there,’ she warned herself. Once again, part of her wasn’t listening.

She made it to the top of the access stairs and faced the locked door that led directly out to the roof. Clutching the bat in one hand and the flashlight in the other, Emily struggled to get the key in the lock. When she managed to turn it, the door opened a fraction. Suddenly the wind caught hold and wrenched the door from her hand. It flew open wildly and made a terrible crashing sound as it was nearly torn off its hinges.

‘So much for being quiet,’ she chastised herself.

Emily stepped into the blowing rain, and started passing the beam of light over the rooftop, searching for fire. It was almost a year since she’d been up there. The whole area was badly overgrown. Strange vines had taken hold, covering the once lovingly tended flower beds.

The vegetable patch was unrecognizable. In the dark, with the storm at its peak, this was no longer the garden Emily knew. Instead it was a dark and frightening place filled with mystery and danger.

Through the noise of the pounding rain, Emily heard other sounds. It was the thumping again. Only this time, there was more. As she strained to listen above the terrible weather, she was sure she could hear whining, or the sound of someone or something crying out in pain.

Creeping forward, she passed the beam of light over the wild garden. To Emily’s right was the large rose patch. This had been her mother’s pride and joy. Every summer without fail, their apartment had been filled with the fragrance of the fresh cut flowers her mother had grown here. Now the rose bushes had run wild and were spilling out over the roof.

A sudden movement in the roses caught Emily’s attention. Directing the light back, she thought she saw the glint of gold. She inched closer and kept the light trained on the bushes. There! The flash of gold again. Taking another nervous step, Emily held up the bat.

‘Whoever you are, come out of there!’

As she took another tentative step, a blinding bolt of lightning cracked in the sky. The entire roof was bathed in light. And what Emily saw in the rose garden was impossible.

She stumbled backwards, lost her footing and fell hard to the ground.

‘It’s not real!’ she told herself. Rising to her hands and knees, she reached for the flashlight. ‘You didn’t see what you just saw. It’s just the storm playing tricks on you. That’s all!’

Shining the light once again in the direction of the rose bushes, her heart was pounding so badly she thought she might pass out. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she crept forward.

‘It’s not real, Em, it’s not real,’ she repeated over and over again as she drew near. ‘You didn’t see anything!’

But when the light found its mark, she couldn’t deny the truth.

It was very real.

A huge white horse was lying on its side in the middle of the rose garden. What had glinted in the beam of the flashlight was one of the horse’s hooves. As Emily looked, she sucked in her breath. It was gold. Raising the flashlight, she received an even greater shock. A wing! Massive in size, it was covered in mud, leaves and rose petals, but unmistakable with its long white feathers.

‘No!’ Emily cried. ‘This is impossible!’

More lightning lit the rooftop, confirming what Emily was trying so hard to deny.

A white horse with golden hooves and a vast white wing was lying on its side in the middle of her dead mother’s rose garden.

Unable to move, barely breathing, Emily stared at the animal in disbelief.

As she watched, the wing on the horse’s side stirred, followed by a terrible shriek of pain. The sound tore at Emily’s heart. The animal was in agony. Racing forward and heedless of the sharp thorns that tore into her flesh, Emily entered the bushes and started to shove them away from the stricken horse.

She worked her way along the animal’s side, towards its head. Lying flat on the ground, it was completely trapped within the rose bushes as the vicious thorns tore into its tender skin.

Emily cried out in her own pain as the thorns dug into her flesh as she tried to free the horse’s head from the cruel bushes. It was awake, and looking at her with a huge dark eye.

‘It’s all right. I won’t hurt you,’ she soothed. ‘I’ll get you free in a moment. Then maybe you can stand up if you’re not too hurt.’

When most of the horse’s head was free, it tried to rise. It screamed in agony as the wing on its side moved.

‘Wait, stop!’ Emily reached out and stroked the horse’s quivering neck. ‘Don’t move. Let me see what’s wrong.’

Emily continued to stroke the strong, warm neck as she raised the flashlight and trailed the beam down along its body. She could see one wing resting on the side, but she couldn’t see the other.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve only got the one wing?’

The animal raised its head and looked at her with imploring eyes that begged for help.

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I guess not.’

Emily soon freed the horse from the bushes. As she held up the flashlight, she glimpsed the upper edge of the other wing. Only it was at an odd angle, pinned beneath the weight of the horse’s body.

‘Your other wing is trapped beneath you,’ she explained. ‘But I guess you already know that.’

With the last of the bushes gone, she moved back to its head.

‘I’ve done all I can, but we have to get you off that wing. If I go around to your back and push, will you try to get up?’

As if in answer to her question, the horse seemed to nod its head.

‘You really are going crazy, Em,’ she muttered. ‘He’s a horse. He can’t understand you.’

She knelt down in the slippery mud and stroked the horse’s side. ‘OK, I’m sorry but this is probably going to hurt. When I start pushing, I want you to try to get up.’

Placing her hands firmly on its back, Emily leaned forward and started to push with all her strength. ‘Now!’ she grunted. ‘Get up now!’

Emily could feel the horse’s back muscles tensing beneath her hands as it struggled to rise.

‘That’s it!’ Pushing and straining, Emily felt her knees starting to slip beneath her. ‘Keep going, you can do it!’

Putting all her weight against the horse, Emily felt it move. But as it rolled forward, the trapped wing sprang free and hit her squarely in the face. Emily cried out as she was knocked backwards into the rose bushes. Lying in the centre of the patch, the vicious thorns tore large holes in her jeans and raincoat and pierced right through to her skin.

But the fresh pain from the thorns was quickly forgotten when lightning flashes revealed the horse now standing on its feet and facing her. Despite the filth from the mud and leaves that covered its body and matted its mane, and ignoring the countless cuts and gashes from the thorns, Emily was awestruck. She’d never seen anything so amazing in her whole life.

From the moment she’d discovered the horse on the roof and seen its wing, a name had sprung to mind. A name long forgotten from an old book of myths her mother used to read to her. But worry for the animal had distracted her from those thoughts. Now it came flooding back. Stepping clear of the bushes, Emily approached. As she did, the stallion stepped up to her.

‘It’s really you, isn’t it?’ she whispered softly as she fearlessly stroked the soft muzzle. ‘You’re Pegasus, aren’t you? I mean the really real Pegasus.’

The stallion seemed to pause for a moment. Then he nudged her hand, inviting another stroke. In that one rain-drenched instant, Emily felt her world changing.

For ever.

Paelen awoke, stiff and in a lot of pain. His back felt like it was on fire and every muscle in his body cried out in protest.

Around him he could hear the soft sound of voices. Keeping his eyes shut, he took a moment to remember what had happened to him. The last thing he recalled was finally catching up with Pegasus and reaching for the golden bridle. He remembered tearing it away from the stallion and feeling its weight in his hand. Then there had been a blinding flash …

After that, everything went blank.

Opening his eyes, Paelen discovered he was in bed in a very strange room. The walls were white with no decorations and it smelled very odd. Over to his right was another bed, but it was empty. Outside the large window, the storm was still raging. It shocked Paelen to see the flashes of lightning and hear the roaring thunder. The way the battle had been going, he thought it would all be over by now.

Paelen turned away from the window. He saw a strange assortment of devices with beeping sounds and blinking lights. Above him, he was alarmed to see clear bags of fluid dripping down tubes that actually
entered
his left arm.

‘Doctor, he’s awake,’ said a woman from beside the bed.

Paelen focused his eyes on a man in a long white coat approaching the bed.

‘Welcome back to the land of the living, young man. I’m Doctor Bernstein and you are in Belleview hospital. We thought we were going to lose you there for a bit. That was a rather nasty fall you took.’

Paelen said nothing as the man leaned forward and shone a bright light in his eyes. When he finished, he straightened again and whistled. ‘I’ll be darned if I know how you’re doing it, but you are healing faster than anyone I’ve ever treated before. At this rate, those broken bones of yours will be knitted together in no time. As it is, that burn on your back is healing even as we watch.’

Switching off the light, he put it in his pocket. ‘Now, can you tell me your name?’

As Paelen opened his mouth to speak, the lights in the room flickered and dimmed.

‘I hope the generators keep working,’ said the woman as she looked up at the lights. ‘I’ve heard the blackout hit the whole city. They’re saying it’s as bad as the one in seventy-seven.’

Paelen understood the words, but not their meaning. What was a ‘blackout’? Seventy-seven what? What did it all mean?

‘The generators are fine, Mary,’ said Doctor Bernstein. He reached out to touch Paelen’s arm reassuringly. ‘The hospital has spent a fortune keeping the back-up generators serviced. So don’t you worry about a thing, we have plenty of electricity and you are perfectly safe.’

Paelen was about to ask where he was when a new person entered the room. Dressed in dark clothing, the man drew up to the side of the bed.

‘I’m Officer Jacobs from the Fourteenth Precinct,’ said the man, holding up his police badge. ‘I’ve been called in to take the details of your mystery patient. So, is this the young man who fell from the sky?’

The doctor and nurse nodded.

‘I’m Doctor Bernstein,’ the doctor said, offering his hand. ‘This is Nurse Johnston. As for my patient, well, I don’t as yet know his name. But I was just about to ask.’

Officer Jacobs opened his notebook. ‘Allow me.’ He turned his attention to Paelen. ‘So young man, can you give us your name?’

Inhaling deeply, Paelen raised his hand in a flourish and bowed as best he could in the bed. ‘I am Paelen the Magnificent, at your service.’

‘Paelen the Magnificent?’ Doctor Bernstein repeated as his eyebrows rose. ‘Paelen the Lucky, more like.’ He turned to the police officer. ‘This young man was found in the middle of 26th Street and Broadway. The paramedics think he was at a costume party, stood too close to a window and was struck by lightning. They think he might have fallen out. We’ve been treating lightning burns and electrocutions like his all night. Though I must admit, most of the others haven’t been so lucky.’

‘Were you hit by lightning?’ Officer Jacobs asked Paelen.

Paelen thought back to the last thing he remembered and frowned. ‘Perhaps, but I am uncertain.’

Officer Jacobs started to write. ‘All right then, Paelen, can you give me your last name? Where do you come from? Where do you live so we can notify your family and tell them you are here?’

Paelen looked at both men, then at the strange room again. Suddenly his thief’s instinct took over and told him not to say anything more about himself or where he came from. ‘I – I do not remember.’

‘Don’t remember?’ Dr. Bernstein repeated. ‘Well, you did have a rather nasty knock on your head. Though I’m sure the memory loss is only temporary. Maybe this will help …’ He crossed over to the small cupboard against the far wall. He pulled out a bag and poured out the contents on to the bed.

‘When you were found, this was all you were wearing: this small tunic and this pair of winged sandals. You were clutching this horse’s bridle. We had a nightmare of a time prying it out of your hands.’

‘Those are mine,’ Paelen protested as he tried to grab the items. ‘I want them back!’

‘Hey, that looks like real gold,’ the police officer said as he reached for the bridle. Feeling its heavy weight, he frowned. ‘Feels like real gold too.’

‘You cannot have that!’ Paelen cried as he snatched at the bridle. He winced when it pulled at his broken ribs. ‘I told you it is mine.’

‘Where did you get it?’ Officer Jacobs demanded.

‘Get it?’ Paelen repeated. ‘I, I,’ he paused as he tried to out-think these strange people. Finally a solution came to him. ‘It was a gift.’

‘A gift?’ the officer repeated curiously. ‘You’re telling me that you can’t remember your full name or where you came from, but you can remember that this was a gift?’

‘Yes,’ Paelen said confidently. ‘That is correct. It was a gift.’

Officer Jacobs moved closer to the bed and frowned. ‘Well, Paelen, shall I tell you what I think?’ Not waiting for an answer he continued. ‘I don’t think this was a gift at all. In fact, I don’t believe you fell out any window. I think you were pushed.’ He held up the bridle. ‘If this is real gold, which I think it is, then it’s got to be worth a fortune. I’m sure someone of your age wouldn’t be getting it as a gift. Tell me, how old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen maybe? So I’ll ask you again, where did you get it?’