a horse in the air

[Ezekiel de le Poer]

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Private. For Siobhan.

     The dreams had been coming and going for over two months. A man he now knew to be a demon came, white teeth flashing in the darkness, the scent of sulfur and blood all over him. Each time they fought Ezekiel lost, and each time he lost he was killed. Cwmfen never came. No one ever came. The pain was unimaginable, and in the grips of death he saw faces he could not remember and smelt fire.
     Ezekiel woke with a start, and found himself in the sunlight. For one split second he did not know where he was. Soon enough, however, he recognized the place; it was close to the den he and Siobhan shared. The boy pushed himself up, stretched in a bow, and yawned widely. Shaking the grass seeds from his coat, the Hydra shifted his weight and turned still. With a silent intensity he began to observe the Waste, gold-yellow eyes traveling over landmarks and bare space slowly.

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