Page 80 of The Neighborhood Ghost

The rider lifted the sword high above his head, ready to strike once more.

The three knocks resumed. They grew louder and louder. Faster and faster.

Madeline stood with fury in her eyes, wiping the dirt off her black Edwardian mourning gown. “I only need the woman for the mask. Send him to the same fate!”

Hugo and Alice’s breathing audibly quickened. A surge of adrenaline coursed through Hugo as his heart pulsed and thumped in his chest. Alice moved closer to Hugo, their shoulders touching. If this was it—if this was the end—at least they touched for a final time. Hugo wanted her touch to last for an eternity.

“I love you,” Hugo said. “You were my hope, my light in the darkness.”

“I love you too, Hugo,” Alice replied through the sound of tears. “You accepted me for who I was when no one else would. I’ll cherish you forever.”

“On the count of three, strike. One . . .” Hugo started.

The knocks stopped. Glass shattered off in the distance.

“Two . . .” Hugo’s voice grew louder. He loosened his grip to not constrict his movement.

The rider reared back the fiery sword, ready to strike.

“Three!” Hugo shouted.

A great crack, the sound of wood striking against the chest of the rider like thunder, echoed throughout the land. The festering black horse reared back as it was caught off guard. He neighed into the air as the rider tumbled and crashed against the wooden dock. The festering horse bucked and kicked, fire spewing from its nostrils. Its hooves cracked the wood beneath it with every blow.

Hugo and Alice let out a giddy shout as they jumped up and down in the amazement of who came to their rescue. Of course, it could only be this individual. The only one who could find them in the darkness. The one still on a mission to find Hugo and Alice.

Floating in the air where the rider once sat upon his fiery steed was the great horse-dog, the hickory broomstick known as Galahad.

“Gally!” Hugo shouted. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

Galahad rushed in and tapped Alice and Hugo on the shoulders, a sign of affection and love.

“The knocks. You were the knocks. Three knocks, of course,” Hugo said.

“Get them!” Madeline cried out.

The rider rolled over, his sword laying behind him. He retrieved the fiery blade and rushed on foot toward the trio. The rider maneuvered around the festering horse’s temper tantrum, careful to not be kicked off the dock into the water below.

“Time to go,” Alice said as she dropped an ordinary broomstick for a magical one.

Hugo stopped her, placing his hand on the broom handle and swinging his feet over the padded, leather, saddle seat on Galahad. “You rescued me, I rescue you. This is how it works.”

Alice did little to protest.

Hugo chucked the hockey stick at the rider, further impeding his progress. It tumbled through the air, end over end, spinning toward its target. With a flick of the sword, the hockey stick was sliced in half, but it did its job. The rider was momentarily delayed.

“Hurry, jump on. Besides, you have to pay the ferryman the leprechaun gold,” Hugo said.

Alice climbed on the back of Galahad and held tight around Hugo’s waist. With a greatyaw, they took off, heading for the open cavern.

Chapter 25

Holding on to Their Hero

Galahad zipped into the mouth of the cave. Hugo heard the crashing water below. The light from the land of lost souls faded behind them. The walls disappeared into the darkness, which enveloped the trio. Once again, they plunged into the dark, into the unknown.

“I can’t see a thing,” Hugo shouted. “I’m flying blind.”

“There are some twists and turns up ahead. I don’t know how many. It went on forever,” Alice replied.

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