“Stay with your pater,” I said quietly to the foals. “And no wandering off on your own again!”
Colette looked chagrined, but Marces just looked stubborn. Londe herded them both back, and I took the lead. Balasamar had almost reached the top of the hill. Not that he was going to get away. Not this time.
Reaching down into my boot, I pulled out the knife I kept there. It was perfectly balanced; I’d made it myself. I took aim, holding it in the tips of my fingers, then flicked them deftly.
The air sang as the knife spun in a perfect throw.
“Ahh,” Balasamar cried out, going down with the blade sunk to the hilt in the back of his knee. He scrabbled at tufts of grasses but couldn’t stop his tumble down the hill.
Right to me.
The sight of the human who had tormented my family, who’d broken my horn, stole my soul, destroyed my place in the herd and nearly took my bond with my mate, and then dared to endanger my foals lit the fury that fueled me.
For this, I needed my horn. I reached into the sheath behind me to pull it free. The moment my hand touched the spirals, I gasped. White shadows crawled across my vision and my body shivered. I hadn’t intended to transform.
“Chasen!” Londe cried out, but I couldn’t answer him. My pained shout turned morphed with my body as two legs became four, blond hair became a white mane, and I came down on forelegs after they beat the air in silent protest of the unanticipated shift.
But…. how…? My nostrils flared, and I bared my teeth, pawing the ground. My hoof struck and dug a deep furrow.
I was a unicorn again. For so long, I’d lost this. Then I’d had that vision, or dream, or whatever it was when Tinn had used his ability on the helm to restore my soul. I thought it hadn’t worked, but it had.
Somehow, I was a unicorn again. Did I? I lowered my head, staring straight at the human filth still mewling in the dirt. He was trying to crawl away, dragging the leg with the dagger behind him. My horn glinted in the sun, and I whinnied in triumph. “You thought to steal my soul, my family, my life. Now you will pay with yours!” I cried.
“No! You can’t do—”
In a move I’d practiced thousands upon thousands of times, I lunged, bending at my front knees to bring all the force of my considerable body to bear and skewered Balasamar right in the chest, cutting off his protest. He scrabbled at my face, scratching and trying to push me away, but the only reason I pulled my horn away from the broken ribs and gushing wound was to stab again, this time in his throat to halt his screams. He gurled on the blood as it gushed out of him.
Balasamar’s body spasmed on the ground, and he fought death with all the frantic grasping he’d used to try for power in life… but that helped him just as little as all his machinations in the end. Because, after everything, I stood and watched the withered, pathetic man’s body gasp its last as the light faded from his eyes and Balasamar died the death he’d so richly deserved.
I’d protected my family, my people. I could feel Londe’s pride in me, our bond a rich, golden cable shining between us again. It was so strong, I couldn’t imagine ever thinking it would fail, no matter what happened to either of us. Not even death could break that chain.
What would my foals think of me? I had just murdered a man in front of them. He deserved it, but still. And what would they feel about my form? I had been banished shortly after they’d dropped, and they were not used to anything but a human shaped father.
“Wow! You look amazing,” Marces said. “Why is your mane short? Can my mane be short?”
I snorted.
Londe smiled and shook his head. He must have been listening in through our bond to the thoughts flitting through my mind almost too fast for me to think and then hold on to them.
“My hair as a human was short. This a good thing, though. Unicorn manes can be difficult to keep clean.” Mine was short, just a stiff ruff standing up from my neck, not all that different from my past grooming as a battle unicorn. My tail was left to stream free, the color as pure white as my coat. I swished it just because I could.
Colette stayed tucked against Londe. I eased toward her, nuzzling her cheek and draping my neck over hers. “Are you okay?” I said softly.
“He’s dead.”
“Yes, he is.” Was she worried he wasn’t? “He can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again,” I assured her.
“He could have hurt you. Or had that other human hurt you. We… we wanted to stop him.” She shifted nervously. “We didn’t think about him hurting us. We’re sorry.” She said the last in a whisper. She tucked her head against my chest, her hot tears soaking in.
“Oh, dear one. I know you would never have gone after Balasamar if you didn’t think you were trying to help. Just, wait until you’re grown up some more. Please?” I eyed her and Marces, waiting for them both to agree.
“Good. Because you have some time yet before that happens,” Londe announced. “Longer if you keep making decisions like this. We can talk about what you should have done on our way back to where we hid Tinn and Wenn.”
Marces groaned.
“Are they okay?” Colette asked.
“They will be.” Londe sighed. “We hope.”
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