Wednesday Briefs: Unicorn Quests Chapter 16

Walking over the mountain wasn’t the best idea with two foals—one wounded—but it was better than going backward toward the cave and trolls. I wanted to stay as far away from the road near where the cave had been as possible. Who knew if the beasts had other partners who would come for the kidnapped Beings?

There had to have been a reason they’d taken so many. Humans caught Beings, especially young ones, in order to kill them in their attempts to purify the planet. They killed them.

They didn’t do whatever the boss, or master, or whoever-the-hell it was pulling the strings had been doing with the Beings kept in cages.

So over the mountain was their best course. He did his best to forage for food for himself and his little side warmer. The others did the same for their needs; Londe found the most succulent treats for the young, encouraging them to eat.

It was slow going, and I was exhausted. Sleep came fitfully. I expected an attack at any moment, and the tension got to the foals even when Londe and I tried to keep it light. Colete was skittish and Marces wanted to be fierce.

“I will help you protect us, just like you used to do, Papa.”

Bile churned in my stomach. At least it overpowered the hunger.

Used to.

Back when I was a unicorn, a white battle unicorn with a short mane and thick muscles. When I had my magic. My horn. I’d lost all that in an attack on the herd, when insane humans used a Being against another Being all in the name of their purity. The curse stole my form, my magic, and my home. I couldn’t live with the other unicorns; they shunned me for the taint draining me.

It’d taken months of journeying, learning, and some sheer dumb luck to find another witch who had been able to seal breach slowly seeping away my magic and killing me and my mate. The spell she used changed me and my magic into this. I could change shape, but never to the form I craved with all my soul.

Without that, I was nameless. Herdless. The foals knew me as Papa. Not even Londe would say my name. I hid my hurt from him, deep inside, but I’d become faceless to the herd.

Leaving my mate and foals had been hard but leaving them orphaned because I’d killed their pater would have been worse. Londe was supposed to stay with the herd, stay with them, and they were supposed to be safe.

But they hadn’t been.

Once again, Beings had done what the humans failed—they took away that which was most precious to me. Just like the witch who took my soul, I would find out who was behind their kidnapping.

Or they’d find me.

I’d take advantage of that as well. Each night I sharpened my blades, polishing the edges. I stretched, flexed, limbered my sore body.

Kept watch behind us and on the sky.

We approached a small hamlet that boasted a tavern and a small market. I peered down from the edge of cover, the pass almost behind us. The forest bordered the short fields and a brook went along one side. With the sun shining down, grass waving, and people passing in bright clothes, it looked peaceful.

Idyllic.

Where was the rot in this peasant soup?

“Can we go into the town?” Marces asked.

“I don’t want to.” Colete’s voice shook as she quickly contradicted him.

“No, you are not going into the town,” Londe said. “We need to avoid humans.”

Marces tucked his chin to his chest and tried to bat his lashes. Those big, brown eyes did not tempt me to give him permission at all. “No.”

“Daddy come?” My little sidekick, the locus, repeated that any time I brought him out of the cloak. His ears perked up, unrolling some to expose his eyes. That and yes or no was all about we could get him to say, at least that was understandable. Sometimes he sort of vibrated and made a humming call.

“No, buddy.” I handed him over to Londe, tucking a blanket around him as I nestled him in the center of his withers.

He collapsed into a small ball, his ears covering his eyes again. I sighed. Yet another problem I couldn’t solve. I pulled out the small pouch of money from the pack Londe carried.

“Food. Clothes. Medicine. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” I also desperately needed new boots; I’d almost worn the leather off mine.

Unlikely to find a tanner or cobbler in a town this size, though. Or readymade boots in my size.

I entered the town cautiously, my cloak covering most of my travel-worn clothing. I kept my hood up until the curious gazes turned suspicious. Then I had to put it down. People who were up to no good hid who they were.

The tavern was in sight, the store just beyond it, when I saw it. The post bills with my picture. Murderer. Thief. Well, the poster was right, but the image was too damn good to be anything but a simulacrum by a damn spellcaster. Damnation to all witchery—it always did me wrong.

And I’d been justified in everything I did. But if I went near that poster, or someone who’d scrutinized it a few times came near me… It’d be over. I rushed through an alley into an outhouse.

The stench was incredible. Time to shift, yet again. Time to lose more of the magic and more of my soul. It was the only way I’d be able to buy the supplies we desperately needed.

Of course, I’d never told Londe what shifting did to me.

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J Alan Veerkamp

Julie Lynn Hayes