Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Wednesday Briefs: Unicorn Quests Chapter 25



“We will go with you.”

“No. I won’t take you away from your family, especially since you were just reunited with your son.” I crossed my arms over my chest, expecting Tinn’s ears to roll like Tinn’il’s always did when he curled into himself and hid away.

The locus was not nearly as meek as his son. Clearly that had been a feature of Tinn’il being young, not a trait the Beings possessed as a matter of course. “He was brought home safe because of you. You have young who are not yet safe. I would return the favor and protect yours as you have protected mine.”

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. I wanted to stamp my foot and shake my mane. If I had a mane. “We didn’t rescue him for a favor.”

“No. I do not go for a favor. I go because you are now part of Tinn’il’s circle.”

Londe tilted his head, flicking his ears. “His circle?”

“All locus have a family unit, and a circle outside of that who are protectors, guiders, friends and family despite not sharing blood. The bond is locked in when the young locus is still, well, young. You were there when he needed those in his life, and he has chosen you as his circle. I would help protect you to ensure his circle remains unbroken, and two members of my circle shall come with me to ensure the same. We are fair fighters, despite our desire to hide away rather than defend ourselves.”

That explained the other two locus standing with Tinn. They stared silently, not arguing, but they didn’t seem anything less than determined either.

“It’s not that.” They would expect us to go a certain way. Easy paths, and a direction of travel that quickly would lead us away and them back home. But that was not the direction that we would seek; we had another route, a dangerous one, that would take us and our foals into the heart of danger.

But perhaps would also be our freedom.

“What?” Tinn asked.

‘Do you think we can trust him?’ I asked Londe.

‘Better question, do you think we have a choice? He is not backing down. I think they might follow us.’

‘Truth. At least the witch left.’ She’d gone without even saying anything to us. Marces had seen her leave through the mist. I wasn’t sad to see the last of her. Damn witches were almost always trouble.

“We must head east.”

Tinn’s ears quivered. So that was unexpected. “Why?”

“I have some evidence that is the direction where we will find safety.” I couldn’t quite bring myself to just outright bear my secrets. There were too many unknowns.

The locus chittered among themselves for a moment. “East is dangerous. There are Beings there. Dark Beings,” one of the older two said.

That wasn’t a surprise. I nodded once. “I think one of them is responsible for what was done to my foals. And to your Tinn’il.”

“So you seek out danger, not safety.” All three stared at us.

“Sometimes the safest course is to charge forward into battle rather than retreat. Safety is only truly safe when you are not hiding from those who seek to nip at your heels.”

“Yes. Though we are not fighters, we would still seek to offer you our aid,” Tinn said. “You will have need of us.”

I really wanted to say no, but how could I? “We leave soon.”

“Yes. But first, we will break out fast.” The silent until that moment locus emitted a whistle, and the hillside began to swarm with the small, furry Beings. They brought out numerous types of food, hot and cold, cooked and raw, all of it natural products of the land.

We devoured the proffered dishes, enjoying the hot meal. Who knew when we’d get the chance to have another?



Colete whimpered when we entered the mist, and I moved to walk just in front of her so her nose could nudge my back. She kept her head buried along my spine, her steps unhurried yet with a sense of rushed need to stay with me. I stroked her whenever the path opened up to let us walk more abreast.

The two days of rest had done her good, but she was still skittish. Marces was jumping about, asking questions of the locus who did their best to answer his questions even as their ears began to roll. But my quiet foal, the serious child, she was contained and skittish. Stayed close to us.

Watched everything.

I hated taking her into danger. I worried about the risk to her already fragile sense of self. I worried that Marces would charge into whatever situation was wrought and get hurt—or worse, dead.

And after two days, we were getting much, much closer to those dots. The beautiful setting around the lake had dried up. We were in a ghost town.

Literally.

“There are bad human spirits here,” Tinn said. “We should go around.”

“That will take us into the forest.” I didn’t like the look of the blackened trees.

“Better the wood and the wildlings than the geists infecting your soul.” Wenn, the quiet locus, fought to keep his ears up as they rolled on the edges.

Oh good, more threats to my nonexistent soul. “The woods it is.” If I dropped dead, Londe would kill me.

My mate gave me a look. ‘What?’ I said through our bond.

‘Find the location on the map, figure out what it means or who we have to help, hurt, or kill to get your power back, make the foals safe, and then go home. No detours. No wildlings.’

What was a wildling?  


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