CHAPTER 2
The Cave was as musty as Iris remembered. She could smell the carcass of something a ways into the cave and was grateful for the absence of light. It never gave her joy to match meat to its species. The twigs and bark she'd stored along the cave wall for an occasion much like this remained neatly stacked a few steps into the semi-dry darkness.
Iris stood a much calmer Clare several feet into the opening and set a stone on her rope to discourage wandering. Next, Iris gathered her fire supplies and piled them close to a wall. She pulled a tin matchbox out of the saddlebag still hooked on the saddle. The storm raging just outside the cavern facilitated a chilled humid breeze to blow into the dark. Soon, with a little effort, Iris had built a growing flame that would keep the room mild. Shadows danced on the wall, as eerie as they were mesmerizing.
Iris gazed through the light smoke coming from her small fire out into the wall of water. Something told her she would be there for a while, so she sighed and stepped over to Clare. She stroked the young horse and started to unbuckle the saddle. Iris's fingers undid the buckles and straps as, or even more, naturally than if she had been undoing her own ties. She slid the bulk of leather off Clare and set it on one of the larger stones. She removed a rather large comb from the saddlebag and started to brush the flat, damp horsehair to a dry shine. It would've gone faster if she'd had a proper bristle brush, but she had time.
Clare stood perfectly still as Iris combed her. It didn't seem to take long to get Clare's coat smooth and clean, and the storm still seemed long from over, so Iris opted to work through Clare's blonde mane. It was trying to mat, and she'd been cutting corners for weeks, only combing it enough to look smooth, but now that Iris had a perfectly available moment to properly work through it, the mane was going to be as soft as Iris's own ebony hair.
Both Clare and Iris released a large sigh, nearly simultaneously. Iris chuckled. She'd definitely miss this horse once Catherine was ready to take her.
The fire was burning well and Iris decided to put a log on it, again acknowledging the rain's steady downpour with reluctance. She set the comb on the ground against the wall of the cave and moved to set the large chunk of wood into the fire. As she carried the wood over, Clare settled onto the ground, snorting once she got comfortable.
Iris smiled. "Better, girl?" After feeding the flames, Iris picked up the comb and resumed combing the mane, now snuggling beside Clare. She could feel the horse's powerful heartbeat and the sun started to set, as evident by the even darker shadows and the growing lack of light shining in from the mouth of the cave. The Repetitive action of the grooming and the background of the rain made for a dull time and, soon, Iris had fallen asleep against Clare, who hung her head and dozed off as well.
Wind whipped Iris's face, but she felt nothing but exhilaration. She felt, heard, the pounding of Clare's powerful hooves on the ground beneath them both. Iris inhaled and stood upon Clare's steady body, her feet keeping their grip on the leather saddle. She let the reigns slip from her fingers and trusted her steed to keep her gait steady. Iris's heart beat wildly, seemingly in sink with Clare's gait.
Iris fought the urge to release her glee in a squeal. She knew it might startle her mount and, in her current position, any change in Clare's behavior might throw her balance off. And at this speed...¦Iris dared not think what might become of her were she thrown from the saddle. So instead of releasing her glee in a squeal that might spiral toward death, Iris relaxed herself and settled back into Clare's saddle, still feeling the ecstasy hat came from the wind in her face and the freedom of her speed.
Iris gazed skyward to the all-too-brilliant blue backdrop of the puffy clouds. The way the wind swirled those great white figures in the sky like they were nothing fascinated Iris. That those same figures didn't simply crash down upon unsuspecting terrestrial beings struck Iris as a miracle. She turned her eyes earthward to the short grass that Clare beat down even further. Green blades quivered in what Iris guessed was a gentle breeze that existed everywhere but around her speeding mount. She could see the track Clare left behind her beating hooves and couldn't help but give a silent cheer for the grass to perk up toward the sun.
The leather Iris wore was exceedingly soft, even more than any leather that Iris normally felt. It's black surface shined. The riding-wear that covered Iris felt so natural and fitting that she knew it'd been custom made for her. But, in her dream mind, that thought didn't trigger any confusion. Similarly, the leather that composed her saddle sported carefully tooled designed and expertly stitched seams. Iris would have been hard-pressed to posses such luxurious items as she was, but the Iris in the dream was accustomed to the extravagance.
The scenery of a forest in the distance was her home. Her residence lay in the castle that decorated the horizon behind her. The brilliance of the sky didn't startle her and the unnatural speed at which she traveled only thrilled her.
The moment she was in wouldn't permit anything but bliss. With Clare beneath her, Iris leaned her head back and closed her eyes, embracing the freedom even her mount could feel. She felt the world racing by and reveled in her control.
But at the back of her utterly free mind, she felt a pang of unknown loneliness. There was something she couldn't reach, something she couldn't quite grasp in her control. Iris felt her mount slowing and opened her eyes. Something rose out of the forest line she was fast approaching. It was something black and enormous, and she felt every horrible that encompassed her start to chase her. Fear overwhelmed her and she felt Clare slow even further.
Iris urgently guided Clare to turn, to run away from the mass descending onto her and to the castle that she felt offered the ultimate refuge. Faster and faster they sped, but not fast enough it seemed. The mass of despair enveloped Iris and Clare, suffocating them.
Iris woke with a start. She found herself grasping the edge of her comb tight enough to have indented her palm with its shape. She unclenched her hand and started at the white lines streaking her palm. After placing the comb on the ground and snuggling further into Clare's warm form, Iris forced her unsettled mind to calm and crawl toward a sleep she told herself she needed. With any luck, she'd be spared another dream.
YOU ARE READING
Something Bigger Part 1
Teen Fiction"We could run away." He'd suggested. But that was before the offer came. The offer that changed Iris's life and sealed the fate of more than a few. Aden should have pulled her away, he should have broken free of the hold. But maybe this was fate.
