by Mac Flynn
"Then why didn't the lights at your house bother me?" I asked him.
"We had the lights dimmed for your benefit," he explained.
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," he agreed. He turned in a circle with his tablet in front of him. I saw the screen light up when he faced the east, north, and west. Fox pursed his lips and slid the tablet into his jacket. "It seems we found the landing spot for the monocerotem, but the single day allowed it to travel in every direction save for the south."
"So we what? Split up and look for clues?" I asked him.
Fox turned to me. "Are you a virgin?"
I blushed and scowled at him. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
"A very pertinent one. Now if you would please answer it," he ordered me.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm kind of a virgin."
He raised an eyebrow. "How does one accomplish that?"
I turned my face away from him. "I've only kissed a guy, okay?"
"Quite," he replied. Fox reached into his overcoat and pulled out a small, transparent plastic bag. Inside the bag was a long white thread. He held the bag out to me. "We need you to follow the scent on this hair. It will lead us to the monocerotem."
My eyes flickered to the light. "I don't know how I'm going to find anything when I'm walking half blind."
Fox plucked out a pair of dark sunglasses from his breast pocket and held them out to me. "That was anticipated."
"Just like everything else. . ." I murmured as I took the glasses. They were narrow shades with a black body. I tried them on and found they blocked out enough light to where I didn't feel much pain, but that I could still see as though I still had the night eyes of a human.
"Now the bag," he ordered me.
I peered at the long hair. "What kind of creature are we looking for? A mermaid?"
Fox smiled. "Not quite." He reached into his overcoat and pulled out a horse's bridle.
I raised an eyebrow. "So we're chasing some sort of a horse?"
"Something like that," he agreed as he tucked the bridle back into the right side of his overcoat. "Now let's see if your usefulness is as great as you claim."
I scowled at him, but took the bag. I popped it open and peeked in at the hair. It was two feet long and had small bits of glitter in its tiny threads. I reached in and pulled it out. The hair glistened in the moonlight. Each slight change in light created a shimmering rainbow of colors that danced along the threads.
"Wow. . ." I breathed.
"Smell the hair and follow the freshest trail," he commanded.
I glanced up at him. "Smell how?"
There was that stupid half-smile again. "Like a wolf," he returned.
I scowled at him, but gave the hair a long sniff. The tiny hairs in my nostrils took in the scent and kept it in there like a memory bank. I pulled the hair away and lifted my nose into the air. My nostrils caught lots of scents, and a few of them was the mono-thingy. One of the trails was stronger than the others. I pointed at the north trail.
"That way."
Fox stepped aside and swept his hand toward the trail. "After you."
"Yay me. . ." I mumbled as I led the way up the north trail.
3
The place was nearly deserted because few people dared go into the lonely park after dark. Only the homeless and muggers occupied the benches and shadows. One lived beneath the few stone bridges, and the other lived off other peoples' hard work by stealing it. I followed my nose, but I wasn't very confident in my new-found tracking skills. I stopped and looked around for any imprint or loose sparkling hair.
"Is there a problem?" Fox asked me.
I glanced over my shoulder and glared at him. "Yeah, you're asking a very unwilling werewolf to follow a scent for the first time. How am I supposed to tell I'm going the right way?"
"Very simple. If the scent on the hair is too faint then the grouping of dead flies are a second source to follow. We have passed six since you started following the scent," he replied.
I straightened and raised an eyebrow. "Flies?"
"Monocerotem or not, it's still a horse," he commented. "Now let's continue."
We followed my nose down the path until we reached an elevated stone bridge. The path traveled beneath the arch of the bridge. Beneath the bridge against the stone wall sat a woman of about sixty. She was bundled in rags, and her long, scraggly hair hung about her shoulders. The woman rummaged through a plastic bag in her hands, and at her side on the ground was a burlap sack with all her worldly possessions.
Our footsteps echoed ahead of us in the short tunnel. The old woman lifted her head and her eyes widened, then narrowed at us. She jumped to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at Fox. "You! What are ya doing here!" she growled at him. She had a distinct Irish accent tempered by half a lifetime of living on the streets of this city.
Fox stopped and bowed his head to her. "Good evening, Mrs. Muir."
"Get out! Get out of here!" she snapped. She waved her arms above her head and lunged at him. "Yer not wanted here!"
Fox stood like a rock as she shoved her face into his, or tried to. There was a head-and-a-half difference in their heights. "I'm afraid we can't do that. You see, I seem to have lost something-"
Mrs. Muir balled her hands into fists in front of her and glared at him. "She wasn't yers to take! Ya hear? She never was yers!"
"Regardless of prior legal doubts, she was and still is mine," he argued. Mrs. Muir whipped her hand upward to him slap him. He caught her wrist and chuckled. "Violence is never a solution."
"Then try this," she growled.
Muir whipped her other hand at him that contained a small bottle. The woman sprayed the liquid in Fox's face. He yelled and clutched his face, and with her right hand free she socked him on the side of the head. The punch and his own disorientation with the spray made him fall back. The back of his head hit a large stone. My eyes widened and I hurried up to him.
"Oh no, ya don't!" the woman yelled.
I received a face-full of the liquid and realized too late that it was pepper spray. My sensitive nostrils screamed in agony and my eyes burned like someone had thrown flaming gasoline on them. Tears poured out of my eyes in a vain attempt to cleanse themselves. I stumbled back and dropped to my knees as I furiously wiped my face with my gloves.
"That'll teach ya to try to destroy beauty!" the woman triumphantly cried out.
I whipped my head up and scowled at her without opening my eyes. "You idiot! I'm not with him!"
She pointed a finger at Fox's still body. "Don't try to lie to me! You came with him here so you're with him!"
"I'm not like him!" I opened my eyes to slits and pointed at my neck where a hint of the collar still glistened in the weak light. "I'm a prisoner just like he's trying to make this mono-thing a prisoner! See? He's got a collar on me!"
The woman paused. Her eyes flickered between my red face and my neck. She stood straight and pursed her lips. "Why should I believe ya?"
"You don't have to, but it's the truth," I insisted. Her narrowed eyes and uncompromising frown told me I hadn't won a convert. I pointed at Fox. "There's a bridle in his right overcoat pocket! He was going to use it to capture the mono-thingy!"
The woman turned and stooped beside Fox. Her hand reached into his coat and pulled out the bridle. She scowled and grasped it tight in her bony fingers. "The monster. . ." she muttered. She turned and shuffled over to me. I pulled back the collar of my shirt and my tie, and showed off the shiny metal necklace Fox had bestowed on me. Mrs. Muir frowned and her eyes flickered up to meet mine. "What's that do to ya?"
"It electrocutes me whenever he presses that-" My eyes widened. I looked past her at Fox. He lay still. I stumbled past her and over to him, and knelt at his side. I removed one of my gloves and tried to reach for the cuff link, but a warning jolt from my collar told me that wasn't a good idea. I looked over my shoulder at the woman. "Please, can you get his
cuff link off him? That's how he controls the collar." Mrs. Muir's eyes were glued to my bare hand. I tucked it into my coat. "Please?
Mrs. Muir shuffled over to me and in a few moments I had the cuff link in my hand. I crushed it in my palm and looked around. Now that I was somewhat free, I had no idea what to do.
I looked to the old woman. "Do you know a place where I can hide? Just for a little while?" I asked my new acquaintance.
She nodded. "I do. It isn't comfortable, but he-" she jerked her head towards Fox, "-won't find ya there."
I smiled. "That's just what I was looking for in a hiding place."
Mrs. Muir shuffled over to her bag and stooped on the other side. She removed a small metal grate from a large drain and set it aside. "Follow me."
The woman grabbed her bag and climbed into the hole. I walked over and peered into the darkness. A ladder led down to a large culvert, and I heard the faint sound of gurgling water. Mrs. Muir stood at the bottom and frowned up at me.
"Are ya coming or not?" she snapped at me.
I glanced over my shoulder at Fox's limp body. "Definitely coming."
"Then get down here and don't forget to put the grate back above ya," she told me.
I climbed down the ladder, replacing the grate on my way, and dropped to the ground. The culvert was tall enough we could stand straight, and it ran to the left and right. Cold, thick water flowed over my ankles and a dampness sank into my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered.
"What is this place?" I asked her. My voice echoed down the long metal pipe.
"It's where all the water from the drain sewers goes to," she told me. She turned and slushed through the muck away from the ladder.
I wrapped my arms around myself and trudged after her. "I'm sorry I asked. . ."
The strange little woman guided me through the maze of mush. Dark, curved walls offered no natural light, but the occasional dripping drain gave some illumination. I removed my glasses and could see almost as though it was day.
After a few minutes of silence between us my guide glanced over her shoulder to look at me. "So how'd ya get in with that monster?"
"You could say we just sort of ran into each other," I told her..
She scoffed. "No one just runs into that monster. He's too crafty for coincidences."
I shrugged. "All I know is I'm stuck with him, or I was, and I've got to figure out what to do next."
Her eyes wandered down to my gloves hands. "Ya don't look like something that should be in his collection, except for yer hands."
"That would be part of the reason I was in his collection," I admitted. I studied my wizened old guide. "So how do you know him?"
The woman frowned and looked away. "Ah'd rather not talk about it."
I hunched my shoulders and shivered against the cold. "Sorry I asked. . ."
We trudged on, and after a few more minutes something ahead caught my attention. A soft glow of light lay ahead of us. We reached the end of the pipe, and it opened to a large domed room. The ceiling arched twenty feet over us, and other culvert openings punctuated the walls in front of us. The rest of the wall space was made of the same stone as the bridges in the park. Water dripped down from a giant rectangular grate in the ceiling and trickled to the floor. A small island of dirt rose up from the center of the floor, and on that island was one of the most beautiful creatures I'd ever seen.
The creature was a white Arabian-esque horse with a shimmering coat. Its tail was perfectly tucked over its long, slender legs, and its mane cascaded down its slim neck to the ground. The horse's face was perfectly sculptured, and striking blue eyes stared back at us with interest and intelligence. The most striking feature was a large protrusion from its forehead. It was a cone-shaped horn that spiraled from the forehead and ended in a point eighteen inches above its head.
"A unicorn. . ." I whispered.
4
Mrs. Muir half-turned and stared at me like I was an idiot. "Of course it's a unicorn. What did ya think he was hunting?"
I shook my head and I put my glasses back on. "I-I don't know, maybe some sort of talking pony or something."
Mrs. Muir looked to the horse and her face softened. "A creature like this doesn't need words to talk to us. She has her eyes."
I could see what she meant. The unicorn's eyes showed all her emotions: curiosity, trepidation, and a smidgen of fear. The unicorn climbed to its feet and I saw it was fifteen hands tall. The creature stood still and its eyes caught mine. I felt compelled to walk towards it. My feet shuffled through the water and over the bits of sand that contained hordes of dead flies.
Muir watched me, but my attention was solely on the majesty before me. I held out one trembling hand. The unicorn stood perfectly still. My fingers pressed against its neck. The coat was as soft as silk and the hairs brushed against my skin like thick mist. I couldn't help but laugh. The unicorn curved its neck towards me, and I nestled myself against its warm body.
"I guess ya really were telling the truth," Muir commented behind me. "Otherwise she wouldn't have let ya touch her. She's got a sense for that stuff. I suppose that's why she won't let me touch her anymore."
I frowned and looked to her. "Why can't you touch her?"
Muir sighed and hung her head. "I. . .I was the one who helped that monster catch her the last time." Her hands balled into fists at her side, and shining tears coursed down her cheeks as she glared at the ground. "He tricked me into doing it, but I should've known better than to trust his smile. It's too cold."
I nodded at the beautiful creature. "Wait a sec. So there was a unicorn under the city and nobody knew about it?"
She frowned at me. "Of course a bunch of us knew about her. She's been here as long as the city, it's just that most people don't try to see the beauty in the place. But me and my friends, we saw the beauty so we got to see her. One of them blabbed too much about her, though, and that damned monster heard she was here."
"How did you catch it last time?" I inquired.
The woman pulled the bridle from her bag and held it out. The unicorn whinnied and shimmied away from it. I nearly toppled over from the loss of her body against mine.
I stepped forward and stroked her nose and neck. "Easy there," I whispered as I patted her neck. "Easy."
Muir gripped the bridle tight in her shaking hands. "This damned thing. He told me I couldn't ride her without it, but that was a lie. I put it on and he comes right out and grabs the reins, and the unicorn was his. It was like putting this over her face made her like a real horse where even that monster could touch her." She hung her head and her words were mumbled. "I. . .I tried to stop him, but he loaded her into a truck and left."
I nodded at the unicorn. "Didn't she try to do anything?"
Muir furrowed her brow and rubbed her dirty chin with one glove-covered hand. "No, but I got the strangest feeling she wasn't too unwilling to go. Like maybe she was curious to see what he wanted." She dropped her hand and shrugged. "At least, that's what her eyes told me. There's nothing like 'em in the world."
"Her eyes are beautiful," I agreed
"Aye, and entrancing. I've seen her lure in some of the folks in the park to her," she told me.
"What does she do to them?" I asked her.
Muir smiled. "She let's 'em ride her around for a while and then sets 'em back where she found them. I don't know if they ever remember the rides because they walk off like nothing ever happened, but they come to her with frowns and leave with smiles on their faces." She puffed out her chest. "But I remember the rides, and for that I'm grateful to her for showing me their smiles." She gestured around us at the sewer. "Gives a lift to someone like me who sees a lot of this, but now all I can do is watch the rides." She sighed and shook her head. "There's no more for me."
"Whatever you did before, she's back now," I pointed out.
Muir pursed her lips as she studied the beautiful beast. "But I can't touch her now. She doesn't trust me anymore."
; "Maybe she just needs some time," I suggested.
Muir shook her head. "I hope, but my grandma always told me they'd only let the pure touch 'em, and she's a creature that never forgets when she's been wronged. She'll remember my helping capture her until her dying day, if unicorns do die. My only comfort is she hates that monster worse. I can see it in her eyes. They're colder than they used to be, like his."
"You said something about being pure. What kind of pure?" I asked her.
Muir settled herself on the lip of the culvert and waved her hand. "Ya know. Very little of drinking, or swearing, and not knowing a man. Pure in spirit and in body."
"So what happens if someone impure tries to touch her?" I wondered.
"Then she disappears. Poof." Muir snapped her fingers. "Just like that, and no one's the wiser. I don't know where she goes, but she never comes back in the same place she left."
I looked back at the unicorn and brushed my hand against its back. "Do you think she would let me ride her?"
The unicorn nodded its head and knelt down on one knee. Muir laughed. "Does that answer yer question?"
I smiled. "I guess it does."
I gently took a handful of the unicorn's mane and positioned myself at the lowest point of its back. The unicorn waited patiently while I hopped a couple of times to judge my jump, and bounded over its back. Clear over. My new spring was better than I knew and I landed with a thud and a splash on the other side of the steed. My feet lay in the water and my upper body was on the small island.
Muir skirted the unicorn's island and came up to me. She absently tossed the bridle into one of the large culverts and the water took it away. "That's a mighty leap for someone yer size," she commented as she helped me up.
I rubbed my neck and shrugged. "Guess I'm not used to-um, being free."
She raised an eyebrow. "Being free makes you hop like a rabbit clear over the back of a unicorn?"
"Is that so unbelievable when I'm trying to hop onto the back of a unicorn?" I pointed out.
She shrugged and gave me a push towards the beast. The unicorn knelt as before and watched us with amused eyes. "I suppose not, but be mindful ya don't go cracking yer head against the walls of this place. The stones are mighty hard."