Page 81 of The Neighborhood Ghost

Hugo leaned forward, closer to the hickory handle of the flying broomstick. Alice held tight, laying on top of his back.

“Gally, you’re going to have to fly us. And don’t buck us off or smack us into the ceiling,” Hugo instructed.

Galahad descended and reduced speed. The broomstick left a wake in the water as it flew past. The brackish water splashed on Hugo’s pants. He secured his foot on the metal foot rest.

His heart raced and breath shortened. Every time Galahad moved and drifted, Hugo shifted ever so slightly to maintain his balance. Alice held tight, almost digging her face into his back. One slip, one overcorrection, and they could go tumbling into the water below.

Galahad banked sharply to the right, catching Hugo off guard. He struggled to maintain his balance, shifting to his left side. Alice let out a shriek as she slipped, pulling Hugo with her. His right hand let go of the broom handle and caught her right hip. With all his might, he helped push her back into position.

“Hold up, Gally,” Hugo said. “You’re still flying too fast. We can’t see to adjust.”

The broomstick slowed. Alice regained her balance, pulling tighter on Hugo’s waist.

“Are you okay?” Hugo asked.

“Peachy. Take those curves a little easier,” Alice replied.

“Do you still have your hat?”

“Always.”

“A witch should always have her hat.”

Light illuminated the cave behind them and then dissipated. Flashes of yellow and orange appeared like a fire spewing from some source. In brief moments, Hugo could see the twists and bends of the cave before them. The stalactites high above them. The churning water below them.

“Did we pass the ferryman in the dark?” Hugo asked.

“I don’t think so,” Alice said.

“What’s causing the light?”

Alice turned her head, placing her shoulder on his back. “It’s the rider.”

“What?”

“The rider is after us.”

Hugo glanced back. In the distance, around the bends and curves of the cave, the black horse spewed forth fire from its nose. Hugo’s eye could only capture momentary glances of his pursuer. They had a bit of distance, but the rider’s horse was closing in. Its hooves walked on air with ease. The rider held his fiery sword aloft with one hand and the reins of the steed with his other.

“At least we can kind of see,” Hugo shouted.

He used their pursuer to their advantage. With every breath, the cave revealed its secrets in the momentary, fiery flashes. Hugo anticipated every twist and turn, calling out, “lean left” and “lean right” to Alice as they banked around corners.

He didn’t know how long they had been flying or how much more remained. His heart thumped against his chest. He breathed deeply to calm his nerves. They had come so close, so far, and he refused to quit now. Hugo readjusted his grip, leaning closer to the hickory handle.

“He’s getting closer,” Alice shouted.

“Gally, a little more speed,” Hugo said.

The broomstick flew faster. They moved and shifted back and forth, following along with the broomstick.

The rider grew closer.

“I can see all of the rider now,” Alice said as she glanced back. Alice tightened her grip around Hugo’s waist.

“We should have kept those sticks,” Hugo said as he leaned forward. “We could have jousted with him.”

The riders swayed with the broomstick as they navigated the treacherous cavern. They weaved in and out around the hanging crystalized stalactites.

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