A Starless Sky - a sequel to Run
Suzanna never thought she would be grateful for a starless sky, for an absent moon, for black clouds so low they pressed down upon her. Yet she was, even as a shiver rippled down her spine, her once wet sleeves now crusty and stiff with ice. The road before her was nearly invisible, white snow banks barely catching the blue glow that radiated from her fingertips, blurring further with her exhaustion.
Brego huffed, tossing his head. Suzanna choked up on the reigns, pulling his head in, but then let it loose again when he didn’t challenge her, continuing his steady rolling plod down the icy road. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking he liked her now. The second she slacked off, let her fear of the massive black stallion grow larger than the fear of those who pursed them, he would know. Still, for the moment, they had reached some sort of understanding.
Brego whickered.
Suzanna snapped awake, realizing they were stopped, standing in the middle of the road, her light gone, the darkness pressing in. She snapped her fingers, whispering, “Light.” But the magic didn’t come. She snapped again, repeating the command, the dormant panic in her chest stirring.
“Light,” she said more forcefully, her numb fingers failing to obey.
“Maybe it’s time to call it a night,” a voice said. Suzanna screamed, grabbing for the saddle horn, Brego rearing beneath her.
“Whoa, now, sweety,” the voice soothed—a woman’s voice. “Light.”
A yellow glow appearing next to a face at the edge of the road, highlighting wrinkles around a thin smile, dark curls beneath a wide brimmed hat. “Easy. Easy. Not tryin’ to scare you. Just heard you stop, noticed when your light went out and came to make sure you was alright.”
Suzanna reigned Brego in, though he wheezed in frustration, stomping. Her heart thundered, eyes pulled both ways down the road before returning to the stranger. The woman’s smile dimmed.
“Look, sweety. It’s late.” She tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “I got a camp just over the rise here. Come warm up. I won’t ask no questions. But… you need to get off the road, before someone less friendly than me comes along.” She stared pointedly at Suzanna, the last of her smile disappearing.
Brego’s head lurched, arguing the danger of trusting a stranger.
Suzanna glanced again the way they had come. She didn’t know where they were going, only that it was away from where they had been. Brego’s strength had put distance between them, the starless night shrouding them, but that wouldn’t last once the sun rose. She had no food, no bedding, nothing beyond the clothes on her back and the handful of jewelry stuffed in her pocket that would give her away in a heartbeat if she tried to pay for anything with it.
Panic bubbled, gumming with anger over her short sighted stupidity, filling her throat and choking off her rapid breaths, her eyes blurring. Brego jerked backwards.
“Whoa, now!” The woman had moved in front of them, raising her hands in surrender, the light on her fingertips brightening. “Breathe, sweety. Breathe.”
Suzanna sucked in the frozen air, clinging to the saddle horn with both trembling hands, unable to use the anger to sharpen her thoughts as she had earlier.
“Just come and sit a spell. Alright?”
The woman’s dark eyes glanced over her again, and the pity in them broke something inside Suzanna. She was pitiful. Pitiful and stupid and nowhere near brave or strong enough to truely escape what pursued her. A shudder ran through her. It was hopeless.
Brego twisted to snap at her, ears pinned back. Suzanna yanked hard, drawing him in a tight circle, fighting him to regain control. His black eye reflected the light, disgust and challenge gleaming as he watched her. She swallowed the sticky emotions.
He knew she was weak, scared, pitiful. Yet he demanded she be more.
She hated him for it. And yet…
She glancing toward the stranger who waited silently, then returned Brego’s glare. “We’ll stop. Just long enough for him to rest.”