Midnight Flight (finished at 87k)
an excerpt

She didn’t waste time. She put off doing things she didn’t like, but as soon as she was started, she completed her tasks with the force and speed of a hurricane. She vaulted over the banister, landing easily on the flight of steps below, her feet given no time to complain as she ran down the stairs. Instead of walking sensibly, as her mother told her a lady must do, she took the last six steps all at once, landing precisely at her father’s waiting feet. She bowed her head to him, apologetic, though also the hide the thrill of elation at the short trip down the stairs. F’lar knew this rain wouldn’t let up for several days at least, and until then, she would be stuck inside. She completely ignored the presence of Mrs. Chena.

“Father,” she said respectfully. Her acting skills must be getting better, because he didn’t cuff her – but how was she meant to bow to a man she had no feelings for, except resentment and hate? She didn’t fear him, not in the way some girls feared their fathers. She just couldn’t stand to be in his cold shadow, especially when her mother was nearby.

“Mrs. Chena needs some help cleaning,” Antoine said grimly. He made it sound as if she were requesting Cordelia’s help to clean the blood out of the abattoir. She repressed a sigh – this meant a full afternoon of kneeling on floors scrubbing, reaching high above her head dusting, and delicately tip-toeing around the clean spots so she wouldn’t have to do them again. Either way, it wasn’t good for her back.

“Yes, father.”

Mrs. Chena had a supreme smirk on her face as she handed Cordelia a bucket and sponge. “Start with the guest hall,” she said primly. It took a moment for her words to penetrate the film of dislike emanating from the girl.

When it did, she simply gaped at the woman’s retreating back. The guest hall? That was never used... unless... Oh F’lar! People? Coming? Her mother would want her in silk gowns with her hair done up prettily, and her very available body on offer to the potential suitors. Not that they would be allowed to do more than touch – but sometimes they took their pleasure with that, seeing how much she hated the roving fingers.

The idea of cleaning no longer seemed the worst thing that could happen. Her distress must have stirred Midnight, because she suddenly heard the horse’s voice in her mind.

:Fear::People::Many?: she asked.

:Yes: she replied. :Mother must be having a party.:

:Sympathy::Comfort: Midnight sent back. The strong psychic connection between Cordelia and Midnight was unusual in several ways. First, simply having powers in this realm was a crime, and any sentients caught would be sent to the Temple of the Priests. Few had any idea what happened there, and none dared to speculate – though still the rumours got around. Rumours of pain, death, and torture. The second off thing about their connection was that they could communicate over long distances – it was at least ten minutes walk to the stables, and Cordelia could only talk to another horse if they were in sight.

Third was Midnight’s unusual ‘voice’. She didn’t use words, like Cordelia and the other horses, but she could send and detect emotions, and she could convey a sense of something without a single word. Sometimes this lead to problems in translation, but most of the time Cordelia knew exactly what the mare was trying to communicate.

:Question?: Midnight sent, and Cordelia paused, puzzled this time.

:Question about what? What am I doing?:

:Affirmative:

:I’m cleaning. Look –: Cordelia focused on Midnight’s mind-voice, and brought it into her eyes. She blinked, and it was no longer the girl controlling her own sight.

:Big-indoor::Very dirty: Midnight responded, before withdrawing from Cordelia and letting her take back her own sight.

:Yes, very big,: Cordelia sent. :This is going to take a while:

:I talk::you work?: Midnight asked. Cordelia smiled, and sent back the thought pattern that meant ‘yes’, or ‘true’. Having her friend in her head would at least mean the time might pass faster.

Midnight didn’t really have all that much to say, however – hay good, air damp, energy full. So it fell to Cordelia to begin conversation.

:I had a letter from Jerys,: she started.

:Again?:

:Yes. He was telling me all about life in Woods City. You know, it’s only two more years until I’m eighteen, and then I can go join him. He knows about us – I’d have to take you, too. That is, if you want to come?:

:Would::Can’t:

:Why not? You think I won’t be able to keep you another two years? Trust me, I think mother will side with me on this one.:

:Mother made plans::Wants foals: Cordelia gasped aloud, then quickly went back to scrubbing the main table.

:Who told you?: she demanded.

:Heard talking::Humans talk::Pretty girl::Cordelia: The rush of emotions and thoughts came too fast for Cordelia to understand at once. Then she realised.

At the moment, she was the most eligible girl in Pentagon, the capital city of Naraldair, home to King Lorys himself. She had even heard rumours herself that the King’s son, second-in-line to the throne, Jacob, was interested.

What good is turning eighteen, she thought bitterly, when your parents can marry you off at sixteen? Then another thought struck her, something Midnight had said, but hadn’t fully penetrated.

:Has mother already found a man?: she asked slowly.

:Talk::Yes::Kechari-rider::Foal from Cordelia: Midnight sent back, seemingly unaware what impact these words had. Though Cordelia guessed that the mare understood exactly what she had said.

:But I don’t want to marry and have foals! I mean, children. And Jacob! F’lar, no!: she sent back in anguish. Midnight did her best to calm her, sending waves of sympathy and comfort.

:I’m getting out of here!:

...Okay, this is part of what I've written so far. If anyone is reading this, and wants to offer their opinion/critisism, whatever, feel free to PM me!