Free Fall

 My whole body is  being thrown around I can’t catch a breath.

“Woah,” I call shakily, pulling on the reins and pushing my feet down.

Nothing.

“Woah, Solomon!”

This time I am firmer. He eases out of his gallop into a walk, but he is impatient, full of energy and bursting to gallop.

“Please Solomon,” I say, “Just let me get my breath and remember how to do this.”

Solomon snorts contemptuously in reply, much like his owner.

“Okay boy,” I sigh, “Lets trot.”

I gently prod his flanks and let him trot. We have been traveling across pastureland towards a huge forest. The trees are coming closer but instead of entering the forest Solomon skirts around its edge. I am starting to find the rhythm of his gait, relaxing and enjoying the ride but Solomon, ever impatient, is pulling at the reins.

I squeeze his flanks again and he breaks into a canter carrying me away from the forest onto a rough stone track that shines in the moonlight. He pulls again on the reins and this time I let him take them. He stretches himself once more into a gallop and I lean forward in the saddle, my face behind his ears, and shut my eyes into the wind and feel his mane caressing my face. My heart is racing but my fear has dissipated and I thrill in the joy of sharing the night and the wind and a moonlit dance with Solomon.

After a while, I don’t know how long, I feel the air becoming cooler and crisper. I open my eyes to find the forest far behind us and the track all but gone. We are heading towards a vast bay. The night is so clear that I can see stars reflected in the water. Far in the distance I can see the man made lights of Duwamish Bay. Even with Solomon’s great speed it will take hours to get there. I rein him in thinking we can slow down and relax for a while. Instead of slowing Solomon picks up sped and turns to the sea towards what I can see quite clearly now is the edge of a cliff.

“Solomon!” I yell frantically, pulling at the reins,” Solomon!”

He won’t stop. His gait is relentless and the precipice is drawing nearer. Totally at a loss I decide to jump to the ground. To my horror I find my feet firmly stuck in the stirrups.

Luff’s words spring to my mind; He won’t let you fall.

“I don’t want to fall!” I scream,” Solomon!”

He leaps, clear off the ground, over the precipice.

The cliff is vast. Somewhere below, in the darkness, is water.

We fall straight down. The wind rushes past my ears. I force myself to stop screaming. I look below us. I can just make out the water. Solomon does not seem perturbed. In fact he is still trying to gallop.

Impossible.

“You stupid horse!” I scream

A sharp pain sears through my hip. I put my hand to it and feel the shape of L’Enchanteur’s bag. It is incredibly hot to touch.

Still falling, the sea approaching us, I pull the bag from my pocket.

“I can’t believe this,” I mutter,” I must be dreaming. Why can’t I wake up?”

The bag is growing hotter and hotter. I reach inside and find the source of the heat. The medallion. The unicorn. I struggle to remember what L’Enchanteur had told me.

“Impossible!” I scream,” I can’t do this. I want to wake up!”

The medallion burns in my fingers. I look at Solomon’s legs steadfastly galloping; he is oblivious to the fast approaching water.

“Are you trying to fly?” I ask, incredulous.

Solomon seems to nod in response.

“Can you fly?” I ask again.

Again a perceptible nod. I laugh hysterically. We were now only metres away from the water.

Impossible! Impossible! My mind screams. He can’t fly!

“Accept impossibility,” a clear voice calls. The medallion glows fiercely in my hand.

 I suddenly understand. That s it!

“Fly Solomon fly!” I cry and kick his flanks.

As his hooves kick the waves we suddenly pitch upwards and forwards into the night sky.
Fly Solomon, fly!” I crow, delighted at my new found belief and loss of fear. I look at the medallion, kiss it and return it to the safety of the bag and my hip pocket.

“Thank you, L’Enchanteur.” I whisper to the stars.

We scud across the bay, dipping and soaring.

We are reflected like the stars on the sea’s surface.

I whoop and laugh with relief and Solomon joins me; whinnying and snickering in pleasure.

“You knew all the time!” I shout, “You were just waiting for me!”

He skims the water again, enjoying the saltwater spray kicked up by his hooves.

I study our reflection in the water and suddenly wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t chosen to believe the impossible.

Solomon snorts and tosses his head as if to break my doubts.

I look again at our reflection and cannot help but laugh at the two of us; windswept and carefree, tumbling and rolling across the sea to Duwamish Bay.

Solomon is beautiful. The wicked glint in his eyes is contagious; I can see my eyes sparkling in  the moonlight.