(Continues from Lady Wise)

I glare at four feet of crystal and remove my scabbard. Holding it in my off hand, I slide the blade home.  When I look up, I note my Queen has gone and the Ironwood witch too. Giant glowing trees have their priorities. Maybe she dragged the witch off for a scolding. I would pay to witness.

“You okay?”

I nod and freeze in my saddle from shock. Puffy white flakes start falling out of the sky to underscore the cold day. I recognize his voice, but it takes me a moment to react. Turning in my saddle, I scan what I can see through my helm’s slits seeking him.

But he’s dead. I saw him fall out of a high window. Or was that a dream? As I ask the question, my viewpoint telescopes out until I’m looking through the smoky glass at my former ghost self. He’s staring down at me and our eyes meet, catch, hold. His eyebrow creeps up in a mirror image of mine.

Our shock commingles.
We are separate and yet we are one. 
Are we brave enough to fight fear’s tingle–
or has apprehension won?

He stretches out a hand, and I do likewise.
His fingers touch a page, a paper vise
squeezing our unwise minds
spinning our perceptions clockwise
making us less sterling more outsized.

He’s still in the city, seeking his crush and I’m astride a white unicorn in the falling snow. But for a time uncounted, we were one entity seeking our story. His fingers rise, slide down to grip the edge and slowly, he turns the page.

Somewhere behind me, a man who sounds like Jason waits for me to answer. And somewhere else, a ghost man searches for his beloved.

Turn the page, start a new chapter–one for him and one for me–until we find the frame where both of us are free from this merry-go-round.

 Find the earlier parts of this series here.

If you missed a part, worry not. This will be available from Amazon in 2017.
The adventure continues tomorrow.

For the November Notes Writing Challenge hosted by  Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies and Rosema of A Reading Writer.

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In a world where enchanted trees kill, nothing is what it seems. Can Sarn protect his son, keep his masters happy and solve a mystery? When secrets threaten, murder is only the beginning.