Princess Esme's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

The portal spat Esme into open wilds. Green hills rolled away on every side, and the sky hung pale and strange above her. She had no map now. She turned the black shire in a slow circle, searching for a road, a house, any sign of the one Morganna promised. Nothing. "Which way?" she whispered. The horse only tossed his head. A low growl broke the quiet. Esme froze. Gray shapes slid out from the tall grass. Wolves. Five, maybe six, heads down, teeth bared. The shire stamped and snorted. She gripped the reins tight. "Easy," she begged. "Easy, please." The pack lunged. The horse screamed and bolted. Esme lurched back, then flung herself forward against his neck. He tore across the hills at a wild gallop. She could not slow him. The wolves fell behind, but the shire did not stop. He plunged into a dark stand of trees, and branches raked her face and arms. She ducked low against his mane. "Slow down," she gasped. "Please, slow down." The trees broke open. Too late, Esme saw the ground vanish. A cliff. The shire's hooves scrambled at the edge, then found nothing. Horse and rider tumbled over together. The world spun, sky and rock and roaring wind. Esme screamed. They struck water. A cold lake swallowed them whole. The silver saddle dragged the horse down, and Esme's slate gown pulled heavy around her legs. She kicked hard. Her lungs burned. Above her the surface shimmered pale. She reached for it. Her fingers broke into air, then her face, and she sucked in a ragged breath. The shire thrashed beside her, nose high. Esme seized a fistful of his mane. "Swim," she choked. "Swim, boy." He churned toward the far bank. She kicked with him, her arms shaking. The shore crept closer, closer, until his hooves struck mud. He heaved up onto land, dragging Esme with him. She crawled from the shallows and collapsed on the grass. For a long moment she only breathed. Water ran from her hair and gown. The horse stood over her, sides heaving, his silver saddle streaming. She had lived. So had he. Esme pushed up on one elbow and lifted her head. Beyond the trees rose a castle of pale stone. Vines and flowers spilled across its walls, and its spires caught the strange light. It stood close, no more than a short walk. Someone lived there. Someone might help her. She tried to stand. Her legs buckled and folded under her. The cold and the fall had drained her strength to nothing. She sank back into the grass. The castle blurred and swam before her eyes. She reached for the shire's reins and missed. "Just a little farther," she breathed. But her arms would not lift her. The last thing she saw was the gleaming towers above the trees. Then her eyes closed, and the grass went dark.