by Angelica, age 14

Luna looked up from her book, The Pegasus Treasury. Ever since her mom had told her the story of The Pegasus on the Mantle when she was four, she had been fascinated with anything to do with Pegasus.

When she had turned fourteen, her mother had given her a silver apple. Luna had wondered why, since it had been on the mantle for as long as she could remember. Her mother, Selah, had told her that when she was about Luna’s age, she had had a Pegasus statuette on the mantle. Luna had been skeptical, especially when her mother had told her that it had turned into a live Pegasus.

Luna vaguely remembered seeing a Pegasus a long time ago, but sometimes she wondered whether it had just been a dream. After seeing the apple, however, she firmly believed that the Pegasus had lived. She dreamed about it every night, and wondered whether it had died, or if it lived forever. In her dreams she often rode it, up into the sky, past the moon, past the solar system. Just when they were reaching their destination, she would wake up, very frustrated.

That night, after Luna had said goodnight to her brothers and sisters and mom and dad, she walked slowly up the spiral staircase without a sound. (Her mother had told her to be thankful they had such quiet stairs, as the ones in her own house had been the creakiest ever made.) She lay in bed, staring at the poster on her wall. A magnificent pure white Pegasus burst through clouds in a midnight sky. The full moon behind it shone, lighting its silvery wingtips. This always made her go to sleep, and she drifted away, the small fire in her fireplace burning down to glowing embers.

Luna sat up suddenly. Something was wrong. She felt like the nun in Madeline, who always said, “Something is not right.” She rubbed her blue eyes and stared sleepily at the charred wood in the fireplace, then at her own little mantle where the silver apple sat, then glanced at the Pegasus poster. Her heart began to thud uncomfortably fast as the Pegasus in the picture began to move. The clouds began to rush past as the Pegasus wove in between them, sometimes obscured and sometimes in full view. Luna wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or not. She sat entranced, watching the Pegasus in its flight.

Suddenly, it gave a silvery neigh and plunged out of the picture, towards her. She ducked instinctively, covering her head with her arms. When she looked up everything was normal, except there was no Pegasus in her picture. She gasped and scrambled out of bed, her feet barely touching the cold floor as she flew down the stairs and out the door. Her long black hair blew in the breeze as she raced towards the yard outside her window. When she got there, she was not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. There was no sign of the Pegasus anywhere.

She sighed, wondering if she should go to a psychiatrist, when a faint sound–like a whinny far, far above her–made her look up. A shadow circled her, growing larger and larger. It was a horse. It had wings. It was white. It was the horse in her picture. She felt that she had seen it before, and realized she had–once when she was young, and often in her dreams. This was THE Pegasus. The one her mother had seen! The statue!

It landed noiselessly, it’s beating wings ruffling the grass beneath it. It looked at her through its silver forelock with deep, deep blue eyes, and for some reason she knew that it knew her. “What do you want?” she whispered. “Why are you here?” It walked slowly towards her, it’s finely crafted face radiating intelligence. As if drawn by some unseen force, Luna began to slowly walk towards it. Somehow, for some reason, she was not frightened, nor even surprised.

They advanced towards each other until they were near enough that Luna could see herself reflected in its eyes. “Hello,” she whispered, not sure why she was whispering but sure she should be. She was positive it raised its lips in a smile. It gave a golden neigh, and suddenly she realized that she was close enough to jump onto its back.

She didn’t know why she did, but suddenly she felt herself on its back. In one smooth motion, it reared slightly and she slipped off its back, down onto the grass. This brought her to her senses, and she wondered why she had done that. It looked at her understandingly, as though it had expected her to. The moon was full, even though it wasn’t supposed to be, and it’s soft glow lit up the scene. The breeze suddenly grew stronger, nearly blowing her over. The Pegasus stood, and suddenly she felt dizzy as the world around her began to spin, and the next thing she knew she was asleep.

She sat up with another gasp, and this time her first look was towards the picture. There was no Pegasus, but something brushed her cheek, and looking down, she saw a long, pure white feather lying in her lap. She picked it up, and a spark shot through her hand, lighting it up for a moment with a silver glow. It faded, and she quietly climbed out of bed and looked out the open window. There was nothing there, but she called out softly “Thank you, Pegasus. Thank you,” and placed the feather… on the mantle.

Read the prequel and March 2008 Judge for Yourself winner The Pegasus on the Mantle.