by Devon Monk
Ryder was human, and even though he had been claimed by a god, it was clear the draw of the vortex was hard for him to resist.
Delaney was both a Reed and currently soulless, so that explained why the vortex didn’t tempt her. Maybe that explained why she didn’t smell the apple pie too.
Bathin was a demon so he didn’t count.
But if any of our citizens, supernaturals or normals, came out here to enjoy the autumn day, they’d be jumping down that hole so fast, no one would be able to stop them.
Was the unicorn decoration? A lure to catch the eye and draw people close enough for the vortex to do its thing?
“Is it alive?” Delaney asked. I didn’t know if she meant the unicorn or the vortex.
“Hello, Xtelle,” Bathin said from behind me. Several yards behind me.
The unicorn blinked one of its huge, adorable eyes, and the wind ruffling its mane stopped. It tipped its head down stiffly as if it had been standing that way for an eternity. Its nostrils flared.
The hoof dropped, the waving mane and tail went flat, and the unicorn pranced in a little half circle to face us. “You.”
Its voice had a fluting quality to it, like a wet finger running around the edge of a crystal glass. It was beautiful.
“You shit!”
Okay. Not beautiful. Loud. Definitely loud.
“You!” Louder still. I stuck one finger in my ear to stop the ringing.
The unicorn stomped in place and swung its horn, calling down the pale light of autumn to catch diamond fire.
Bathin walked up to my side, a huge hulking mountain of muscle and attitude. He planted his feet wide and crossed his arms over his chest. “There are rules here, were you listening?”
He sounded calm. Bored.
I was surprised. Last I knew he was terrified of this unicorn. But now…now he was smirking, enjoying the unicorn’s angry—and adorable, the thing wasn’t even as big as some dogs I knew—prancing.
“You!” it piped.
“Ah, ah, Xtelle, that’s not very lady-like. Manners. Pay attention to the Reed sisters. This one’s Delaney. You might have heard of her?”
The unicorn narrowed her innocent-kitten eyes and glared at Delaney as if just now seeing her. “You are the Delaney?”
“Yep. I’m the Delaney.” Still calm. Still holding tight to Ryder’s wrist.
Ryder was sweating, unable to look away from that vortex, but to his credit, he didn’t try to break away.
“Which one are you?” Xtelle asked.
“This one’s Myra.” The way Bathin said it sent chills down my skin. He put an extra hard emphasis on the beginning, making my name sound possessive: MY-rah. As if I belonged to him. As if he belonged to me.
The unicorn did not appear to miss that particular detail either.
“I see.” The unicorn snorted, and glitter puffed out of her nostrils in a little cloud. “Well, it’s about time you Reed women got here. Someone opened a portal to Hell. Good thing I arrived to keep anyone from walking into it.”
Bathin sucked in a soft breath, so slight a reaction, if I hadn’t already been paying attention to him, I might not have noticed it.
Something wasn’t right about what she was saying. It had surprised him.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Someone opened a portal,” Delaney repeated. “Is that what happened here? Because what I see is a vortex to Hell, and the only living thing anywhere near it is you.”
The unicorn batted her eyes, trying to look cute and confused. Missed it by a mile.
“Did you open it?” Delaney asked. “This would be a really good time to tell me the truth.”
The unicorn ducked her head and pawed at the grass. “I did. I opened it.”
Bathin did that held-breath reaction again.
The unicorn’s voice was quiet and small and apologetic. “It was…I didn’t mean it to happen like this. But I’ve heard so much about Ordinary. I thought if I got your attention, if I saved you from something…bad?” She shot a sideways look toward Bathin.
He rolled his eyes.
“If I saved you from the bad, evil, terrible, dangerous vortex to heck…”
Bathin choked on a laugh. She ignored him.
“…if I saved you from Hell,” she said, louder, “it would prove I should stay here. In Ordinary. Live here. Like all the other…unicorns.”
Bathin grunted. But his stance hadn’t changed. He was still a mountain, solid, strong. And he was standing with us, against the unicorn.
Didn’t that say something about him? About his loyalty? About his—
—heart—
—determination to stay here, no matter what he had to do to make that happen?
“There aren’t any other unicorns in Ordinary.” Delaney wasn’t buying the cute act for a minute.
“You wouldn’t…” long, sparkling eyelashes blinked, blinked, “make me leave would you? Look, oh, look. I can help…”
She trotted in a little circle, then pranced—that showy hop I’d seen fancy Italian horses pull off—over to the vortex, and pranced/hopped around it counter clockwise, ducking so her horn didn’t scrape one curve of the slide.
Because the day wasn’t weird enough, she also started singing. At first I thought it was a spell, but no. No, it was not.
“Doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown racetrack’s five miles long…”
“What does that—” I asked.
Bathin held up one hand. “Shh. I’m enjoying this.”
Delaney’s eyebrows lifted, and even Ryder looked like the stage show had broken the thrall of the free-apple-pie-to-Hell.
“…dah daaaaay!” Xtelle landed back in front of the vortex and tossed her head hard enough, her mane jingled like silvery bells.
I stared at the vortex, hoping it had changed. Hoping it had closed.
Nope. Puddle. Moonlight. Pie.
“And?” Delaney asked.
“And?” the unicorn asked.
“What was that for? The song and dance?”
“For your enjoyment? Did you not enjoy watching me frolic? Did you not enjoy my singing? I am a legend among my kind.”
Bathin coughed, and it sounded a lot like, “Bullshit.”
“A legend!” the unicorn went on, narrowing her kitten eyes into slits. “They call me Xtelle the Xtraordinary, and when I take the stage, every creature bows and sings my praises.”
Bathin gave a begrudging shrug. “Not at all ironically, I’m sure.”
“I will hoove you in the hatch so hard you’ll spit glitter for a decade!”
I laughed.
“Try it, old woman,” he said.
“Old!” She snorted again, and this time there was a little steam along with the glitter. “Hoove you,” she snarled. “Hoove you so hard.”
“No hooving,” Delaney ordered. “Xtelle, the dance and song were nice.”
Bathin grumbled something under his breath, but Xtelle turned so her ample ass was facing his way. She swished her tail, then twisted so she could see Delaney and ignore Bathin.
“Thank you, Delaney. Aren’t you the sweetest?”
That tone reminded me of a Valkyrie swooping in to drag the dead off the battlefield and into a community event.
“You can only stay in Ordinary if you follow our rules. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
“You will not harm or kill any supernatural, god, or mortal while you are here. Nor will you reveal a supernatural’s or a god’s true self to any mortal.
“Use of power must be done without mortals seeing or suspecting you have said powers, and all mortal laws, whether local, state, federal, or global must be adhered to.”
“Go on,” she purred. “It’s so…orderly.”
“You can’t let mortals see your real form.”
“My—what do you mean, my real form?”
Even Bathin sent a quizzical look over to Delaney.
“You can’t look like a un
icorn. Do you have the ability to project a different image? If not, I’m sure we can ask a witch or a wizard to cast an illusion to cloak you.”
“Cloak me? Cloak this? I am radiant! I am glorious! Witness my pinkness and tremble in awe!”
“Nope,” Delaney said. “Pink talking unicorns don’t exist as far as mortals know. I’m here to make sure it stays that way.”
“I won’t be stifled.”
“This isn’t about stifling. This is about following the laws of Ordinary, which my sisters and I, along with the officers in our department, enforce. It’s about keeping mortals safe, supernaturals safe, and gods safe. If you can’t follow the law, then you can’t stay in Ordinary.”
“B-But where would I go?” The kitten eyes were back. With sparkles. And tears.
“Anywhere else in the entire world. There are other safe places for supernaturals. This is the gods’ vacation town, and therefore it follows strict, ancient rules the gods decreed. Rules of which I am the arbitrator.”
“That’s not fair.” The unicorn pouted.
Bathin heaved a huge sigh. “By the love of—those are the rules, Xtelle. You’re fond of rules when they work in your favor.”
“I’m not listening to you.”
“Yes, you are. In or out?”
She unwobbled her lower lip and canted one back foot, considering the offer. “Must I disguise my true self?”
Delaney nodded. “Yes.”
“Something…drab?”
“Something that does not appear supernatural.”
“Plain and boring, like the demon over there?”
All of us glanced at Bathin. His hands were curled into fists at his sides now, and his jaw was locked, nostrils flared.
“I. Am. Not. Plain. Or boring.”
Okay, maybe I liked this unicorn. She obviously knew how to get under Bathin’s skin, and anybody who could do that was a plus in my book. If she knew how to needle him, she just might know how to make him give back Delaney’s soul.
“Which herd and meadow do you hail from?” I asked. I knew my unicorn lore. I might not know as much as my father, but I was getting there. Plus, I had a library full of books and scrolls and tablets. I could consult any one of them at any time and get the information I needed.
“My meadow,” she hedged. “It is no more.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “It is why I seek a new home meadow. This Ordinary meadow.”
“And your herd?” I asked.
She tipped her nose in the air. “They have abandoned me.”
Bathin rubbed at his forehead as if a headache had just hit him.
“Without your meadow and herd, will you be able to access enough magic to change your shape?”
The unicorn nodded, mane jangling like jingle bells. “Ordinary is just full of magic. Let me think a moment.”
She shifted from hoof to hoof, one after the other, not lifting them all the way off the ground, but bending her knees in a little pop-diva wiggle. Any minute now I expected her to break into the Running Man or Moon Walk.
“Oh! Easy.” She pulled on magic. I could see it gather around her, sparkling up out of the grass, gold and green, turquoise of the sea, orange of the sand. It spun around her slowly, and then there was no longer a unicorn standing in front of a vortex to Hell.
There was a horse. A very small horse. A horse no bigger than a medium-sized dog.
The horse was also pure white, except for the black mark right in the center of her forehead. Her mane and tail were a soft yellow, like straw shining with sunlight, and her hooves matched. Even her eyes, which had been an alluring sapphire, were now a warm, deep brown.
“Lemme guess,” Bathin said. “Pony.”
She lifted her head and gave a very sweet, horse-like whinny.
“Pony,” he said again.
Xtelle stomped one tiny foot. “Miniature horse, you ass,” she hissed.
I laughed, and Bathin cracked a smile. “If you say so.”
“You are dead to me,” she declared. The miniature horse once again turned her back on Bathin.
“I wish,” he muttered.
Xtelle’s pointed ears swiveled back, then forward, as she stared steadily at Delaney, ignoring him. “Will this do?”
“As long as you don’t talk, I think it will work fine. We don’t really have wild horses, miniature or otherwise, here on the coast, so I think it would be best if we found someone who would agree to own you.”
There was nothing but complete silence.
Okay. Weird reaction.
“You know there’s a vortex to Hell we still haven’t addressed,” I pointed out.
“I know,” Delaney said. “I’m getting to that. Ryder, can you stand here without trying to run into that thing?”
“It’s…” he said, “it’s just…I’ll just take a quick look inside. See what I can see.” He sounded dazed, drugged.
Bathin nodded. “That’s a great idea, buddy. Go tourist around in Hell. Pick up some tchotchkes, try the torture.”
“Yeah,” Ryder said. “I’ll do that.”
“No.” Delaney tugged his wrist a little more firmly, and he stopped mid-step. “You are not going to vacation in Hell, Ryder. What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s a vortex,” Bathin said.
“Which means?” Delaney looked at me first.
I had no idea. I shook my head. I hated that I didn’t have the information because I knew who was going to open his big, fat mouth any minute to show me up.
“Well, since you asked,” Bathin said grandly. “It means that it is more than just a portal or a doorway into Hell. It sucks. Both ways.”
“You suck both ways,” I muttered.
He heard me and wagged his eyebrows to let me know it.
“What kind of suck?” Delaney asked.
“Oh, let me count the ways,” I said.
“Now, now, let’s not bite the hand that leads, kitten.”
“Kitten me one more time, and I’ll shove you in a jar with a dead drunk poet until the end of time.”
“But your sister’s soul.”
“In a jar, out of a jar, you’d still be in Ordinary, so I wouldn’t be breaking any contracts. Right, Ryder?”
Ryder inhaled, exhaled. Asking him that question seemed to break the thrall of the vortex again. “Technically, true. She could shove you into a jar, Bathin.”
“So the vortex pulls people in and pulls…whatever is on the other side out,” I said.
“Yes,” Bathin agreed.
“How do we close it?” I asked.
“Owned!” Xtelle yelled. And wow, that horse had a set of lungs on her. “No one owns a magical creature such as I! No one dare lay claim to a unicorn, pure and true! No one can put their…their hands on me and…and…”
“Feed you carrots?” Bathin suggested.
“Feed me carrots!” she repeated. “I will not stand for this. Xtelle will be no mortal’s beast of burden!”
“How about a god’s?” Bathin asked. “Because that’s a possibility here too.”
“I’d rather die.”
“Also a possibility,” he said with a huge grin.
“You wouldn’t actually be owned,” Delaney said. “But if you’re going to be a part of Ordinary, you will need someone to host you. Someone who can explain the rules and act as a go-between with the humans of the town if you do something wrong.”
“How would I do something wrong? I’m a unicorn, the very epitome of purity and temperance and perfection.”
“You still need a host,” Delaney said. “If you don’t have one, we’ll be happy to appoint one for you.”
“Do all the creatures have to endure this degrading treatment?” she demanded, eyes narrow. “Did he?”
“Bathin appears human.” I decided to jump in because we really needed to get this moving along. The weather was nice enough, we might have someone show up to play in the park.
If they saw their police force arguing with a talking horse, things might
get dicey.
“If you could appear human, you would not need a host,” I said.
The unicorn opened her mouth, closed it. Glared at Bathin like this was all his fault. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.
A snort, a stomp, and finally, it appeared the fire went out of the little horse.
“I don’t have anyone,” she said, dejected. “May I choose a host?”
That was within the rules. It was also within the rules that the host could refuse.
“You can choose,” Delaney said. “But first we need to handle the vortex.”
She perked right up and batted those long horsey eyelashes. “I choose Myra Reed.”
“What?” I said.
“Please? Will you please be my host while I learn the ways of Ordinary?”
“No.” Bathin cut his hand in front of him like he was some kind of medieval royal declaring a beheading. “I forbid it.”
And yeah, we all turned and looked at him. He glowered at the unicorn.
“Why not?” I asked. Before he could answer, I decided I didn’t need to know why he didn’t like the unicorn. It was enough that he didn’t want the unicorn to be with me.
What a demon feared, then forbade me to do, was very interesting to me. Especially since I was the one tasked with finding the way to throw him out of town.
“Yes,” I said. “Xtelle…”
“No,” Bathin said. “Myra, you should not get wrapped up with this conniving little bitch.”
“Whoa,” Delaney said.
“Hoove you in the big, fat face!” the unicorn screamed.
“Enough.” I said it loud enough, everyone shut up.
“Bathin, you have no say over what I do. Xtelle, yes, I’ll be your host. I have a lovely back yard you can frolic in, if that suits your needs. I can make a place in my garage for you to sleep, if you need indoor space.
“Everything else, from what you need to eat, to how you prefer to spend your time, we can work out later. Because right now, we need to deal with those things crawling out of the vortex.”
Chapter 5
The unicorn glanced over her shoulder, let out an undignified “Eep!” and trotted over to stand between me and Bathin.
He pushed her to one side and wedged himself next to me instead. She snarled, which was a weird sound coming from a horse, but shut up as soon as the first tentacle wriggled out of the vortex to test out the playground bark dust.