“Promise me…you—” another yawn “—won’t try anything if I fall asleep.”
“You’re no good to me asleep,” I said.
But Wren could no longer hear me as sleep took her once more. I watched her breathing peacefully for some time. Then something about the silence outside made me leave her tent. My last few years had earned me a healthy dose of paranoia.
I walked to where Thackery had erected his own tent and he pushed back the flap and gazed up at me with crazy half-lidded eyes. “She kicked you out?”
So he had been watching us.
“She didn't kick me out,” I told him, “I just thought it better to wait until she has enough energy to make things interesting.” It was a low blow—my favorite kind.
I expected Thackery to attack me right then. Instead, he yawned. “Then what are you doing out here?”
I pointed towards the larger tent. “It's the peddler.”
“What about him?” He asked me.
I folded my arms. “Well to start, he's gone.”
Chapter 9.
Calen
The source of my unease had gone, vanished without a trace, in such a way that made it seem like he had never been there at all. Wren didn't stir in her bedroll. She'd curled into herself, arm still holding up her head. I watched her chest slowly lift and fall and her lips part in a breath…
The dawn seemed sluggish, the hours limping by as I lost myself in my own faceless fears. Something snapped just outside the tent. I silently grabbed a blade, crouched down, and rolled through the flap ready to fight.
It wasn't the peddler, of course. Nor was there a cutthroat for me to throttle. I could have used the release of tension that a brisk morning killing would have brought—but it was not to be. In front of me stood a man from my past—a man I had thought dead.
“Two years,” I hissed below my breath. “Two years!” I shouted. Wren awoke in the tent behind me but thankfully stayed inside listening.
“It's good to see you too, brother,” Christoph said, a smile like an ever-present scar on his face. I fingered my blade and thought about carving a frown into his face.
“Oh, you're thinking something absolutely venomous aren't you?” Christoph asked with a wink.
I moved with inhuman speed to smash in his nose, but Christoph just laughed, dodging the punch and shoving me back. He matched my speed effortlessly.
“Come on, Cal,” he called me by a nickname I hadn’t heard since I was nine. “Don’t be like that.”
He took a step closer, well within striking range. I moved left and he went right. We matched each other blow for blow, sparring in a well-practiced sequence almost like a dance. I landed a few good shots and took some in return. It ended in a stalemate.
The familiar moves brought back memories, but every bridge between us had been burned.
“Can't let it go, can you?” Christoph wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His smile was still in place.
If I’d had my horn, I would tear that smile off his face. Every cell in my body hummed, wanting to burst free of this man-shaped prison I was stuck in.
“There’s no time for this,” I said.
“What's the matter, brother?” Christoph hissed. More like a snake at that moment, than a second-horn prince. “Lose your nerve along with your horn?”
The dawn seemed to lose some of its luster, Christoph's eyes seemed to suck the very light from the sky as they sparkled wickedly behind his light lashes. They were fierce and murderous, but in a charming way. It was a look that I hadn't seen in ages. This wasn’t the look of a challenge. My breath caught in my throat. Far too much time had passed since I’d had Christoph on my side.
“I'm....” I began, realizing I was exposing a chink in my armor, “just surprised to see you.”
His eyebrows raised a hair.
“I'm on a quest,” I said, regretting the ridiculous words as soon as they fell out of my mouth.
Christoph laughed. “A quest to drink all the beer in the world and sleep with every woman?”
“I don't know why I tell you anything,” I sighed. “Start talking. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help—” Christoph said, throwing his hands up defensively as I raised my fist. “—and not by sleeping with your women.” His eyes lingered on the tent where Wren was.
“Stay clear,” I warned.
“Doesn’t she know better than to trust a unicorn?” Christoph asked. A snort came from behind the tent flap.
Wren stumbled out of the tent, a blurry-eyed and clumsy mess.
“Christoph, meet the Princess. Princess—my brother.”
“A mage,” Christoph muttered, looking her up and down. “That’s better than the whore’s you usually associate with. “
Wren grasped, but Christoph didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest by the offense he was giving.
“Rudeness must run in your family.” Wren spat. She was intoxicating when she was furious—at least when it wasn't directed at me.
“True,” Christoph winked. “My father is the rudest man I know—a perk as King of the Unicorns—but forgive me, your highness.” Christoph poured every bit of charm into his voice as he gave an exaggerated bow. “Have we met somewhere before,” he asked, “at a gala perhaps?” He called to her with his magic and I was suddenly jealous. Perhaps I should have taken her last night.
“Perhaps, but I’m not sure I would’ve have remembered.” Her fire had been washed away and was suddenly replaced with a sea of sharp ice.
His smile faded, and the corners of my mouth twitched. Wren wasn't the least bit swayed by Christoph's charms.
“Oh, I doubt that very much,” Christoph tried to recover from his surprise.
I let my eyes slide over Wren. “Wren isn't the kind of girl you usually go for, brother.”
“That’s right,” Wren agreed, “I have something I like to call... standards.”
Christoph laughed. “Your companion is very amusing, Calen,” Christoph said. He took a pre-stuffed pipe from his pants pocket and lit it with an exaggerated spark of magic.
Wren wasn’t impressed. “Is there a reason you're here?”
Christoph nodded mysteriously.
Thackery suddenly appeared—then did a double-take. “Not another one.” He took one look and began packing his saddlebag.
A series of questions filled my mind. Why and how was Christoph here? When had I decided Wren was worth all of this effort? Hadn’t I sworn off women? It seemed I was in the middle of a mess that was just getting worse and worse.
“Look,” Christoph said, “I’ll just explain what I know and what I can do. Then you can take my help or leave it, but the truth of the matter is you’re going to need me.”
“This should be good,” I said.
“I know where the Collector has hidden your horn,” Christoph finally said, “and the only way to get it back.”
Chapter 10.
Wren
I heard every word spoken outside my tent. What Christoph had said made me furious. It was a good thing too, otherwise I might have fallen for his looks.
Christoph was even prettier than Calen. He was thinner—not scrawny, exactly, but of a slighter build. It made him look younger and like less of a fighter. I compared his form to Calen’s and involuntarily, my mind wandered back to what had almost happened in the tent last night—the solid weight of Calen’s muscles beneath my fingertips—he was so very different from any man I’d ever touched before.
No two men were exactly the same, and surely this was true of unicorns too. It made sense that they could be so similar and so different at the same time. After all, I mused, I was nothing like either of my brothers at all—full blood or half.
The two unicorns both had full heads of shocking white and silver hair. Calen’s seemed feather-soft, but thicker. Strands of Christoph’s hair were as delicate as spider’s silk swirled in the breeze.
“Now that I have your attention,” Christoph s
aid in a softer, deflated tone. “I want you to actually listen. It's not just your horn we’ll be retrieving, but something that might interest your traveling partners.”
I was wished Christoph would just say his peace and be gone. We needed to get back on the road.
“The Collector’s keep is well hidden and surrounded by a forest that shifts, not by seasons but by his whims. The way through is constantly changing, protected by different monsters that come to life as he dreams them up.”
Christoph's voice dipped low as if he hadn't meant for anyone but Calen to hear that last part. Something about his golden voice made me cling to every word as though it might just save my life, even though I was sure what he was saying likely to get us killed—something I’d been preparing forever since I started down this road.
“So he’s a Mage Gardener,” Calen said, obviously not impressed. “And just where is this magic garden?”
“Near enough,” Christoph said, turning to look down the road in the direction the peddler had appeared from last night.
Calen turned and I watched his back, knowing his eyes would follow his brother’s gaze. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, but what was he thinking? I could only guess.
The road ahead turned in a sharp bend. Whatever lay beyond was draped in the thick shadows of the low morning light. Fog concealed the forest on either side. There was no telling what lurked beyond the edges of my vision. I hoped a Unicorn’s eyes were better than mine.
I realized both unicorns were watching me in their unnervingly still and pale way. They might as well have been made of stone, with blue glass where their eyes should be. That was another thing they shared in common. Christoph's eyes were the same striking color as Calen's. I cleared my throat, ignoring the pull of their magic. I'd had more than enough of the unicorn charm for one lifetime.
“Well,” Christoph said coolly, “since she’s come this far, I suppose there's no getting rid of her now.”
The muscles in my face tightened, but I refused to dignify the remark with a response.
“Nothing to say in your defense?” Christoph asked me.
So, that was his game. If he liked getting a reaction out of me, I'd deny him the pleasure. Instead, I turned my back and attempted to dismantle the tent. I was not so pampered as to have never slept on the ground. Hunting and living in nature had been part of my education. Unfortunately, the tent didn’t want to cooperate and I made a mess of the poles and ties. I tried to cover it up by tugging on the top sheet and nearly tore it apart.
A large hand as cold as ice covered mine. I shivered involuntarily as Calen pressed himself behind me.
“Maybe you should let me do that,” Calen said.
My traitorous body relaxed into him, suddenly capable of nothing more than purring and weak knees.
“Are you lovebirds listening?” Christoph squawked.
It was only then that I realized Calen wasn’t listening. His breath was hot on my neck and he didn’t pull his hand away from mine.
“For being powerless, she sure seems to have you under her spell,” Christoph added.
My head jerked back his direction, smashing into Calen’s nose. The moment was lost as he busied himself pulling up the outer stakes and collapsing what remained of the tent.
I wanted to apologize, but then I saw the grin forming on Christoph’s face. That would only make things worse. I held my tongue.
“I'm listening,” Calen sighed.
“Are you, or should I just piss off?” Christoph asked, his voice wrapped in a half-hollow laugh, but I could tell he genuinely wanted to know.
Calen just eyed him skeptically. Christoph began again. “He has the First Realm...”
“Has the First Realm?” Calen cut him off, an accusation as heavy and sharp as a sword.
“Forever trapped in a winter wonderland...” Christoph continued, “The Collector used to seek out magical artifacts, now he's moved to amassing whole worlds.”
That was quite different than collecting rare jewels or colorful pottery. Taking an entire world made stealing the Heart of Spellshallow seem like nothing.
“Wren and Thackery, go water the horses and fill our water skins while I try to sort through Christoph’s ramblings.” Calen’s eyes left little in the way of negotiation.
It was a command. I knew it, he knew it, probably Thackery and Christoph knew it as well—still, I did not object. My feet pulled me away.
A babbling spring was not far away. Thackery grumbled at his feet and led the horses. I wanted to scream, to throw the water skins on the ground. I wondered what the Collector’s garden would be like. Had I brought any clothes warm enough for trekking through snowdrifts?
The calming sound of flowing water centered my thoughts. This place was peaceful, filled with natural magic. I took a moment to take it in. Spellshallow had so few precious moments left. A voice in the back of my head scolded me. Just get it done. You don’t have to like the task or your companions. Do your job.
My head snapped up to the sound of boots scraping across a rock. So, Calen thought I couldn’t even refill our water without his help?
I spun around, ready to give Calen a mouthful—only to see Thackery lying unconscious and a meaty fist flying towards my face.
Chapter 11.
Calen
“Cal, you've got it so bad,” Christoph said, causing the cold in my veins spread like a fissure of ice crystals.
Christoph was one to talk. He fell in love as easily as falling out of bed. There were endless pages of things he loved about women—it hardly mattered. Anything with a warm body and an attractive figure caught Christoph’s attention. Doe eyes and a full breast scored much higher with him than an intelligent mind or personality.
And Wren had both. She was pure and raw in so many ways. Her heart was reliable and convicted. Though innocent, her mind might have been distracted by lofty dreams, but she was committed to saving her people.
My brother would consume all of that in less than a week and move on to the next girl. I wouldn’t let that happen with Wren. I suppose that meant something was wrong with me. I used to think the same way, long ago. The memory made me homesick. Ruminating about the past inevitably brought me to reliving how everything around me had come crashing down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied. It was the truth, I hadn't been paying attention to what he was saying.
“Whatever,” Christoph spat instead, “I didn't come to talk about your conquests, I came to convince you to save your own skin.”
“And how exactly would I do that?” I asked.
“By knowing what you are getting yourself into. The garden is surrounded by steep snowdrifts and the valley is currently guarded by an army of gray-spotted snow leopards that stand fifteen hands high.
A snow leopard the size of a horse, that was something new.
“You have a magic ball of yarn to distract them?” I asked with a smile.
“The giant leopards are the least of our concern. It’s what lies behind Hashr’s high walls that is the real danger.”
Christoph was staring down the road, the light seeming dimmer in that direction than it had just a moment before.
“Is that where he has the Heart of Spellshallow?” I asked.
Christoph nodded. “Protected by a whole clutch of monsters and deadly magical artifacts—including your horn.”
“So we fight our way in and take it back,” I said pointedly.
Christoph shook his head. “That’s what the Collector wants you to do—expects you to do. Then he can add a Unicorn to his collection.”
“What then?” I was becoming suspicious. My brother would gladly sell out his whole family if it were in his best interests. I started to wonder if this wasn’t some elaborate trick.
“We give him what he wants,” said Christoph with a smirk. “You surrender, get him to lower his guard and take you in. That’s when your human friends and I attack.”
I frowned. “
He has something you want, doesn’t he? That’s why you’re really here.”
“Can’t I be concerned about my brother?” Christoph looked wounded. “After all, what would happen to Margarete and Cecile without you?”
The ice in my veins began to boil.
Christoph took one look at the fire in my face. He knew he had struck a chord.
Suddenly, a wall of white appeared at the end of the road. It rolled toward us with a roar. An angry wave of ice scoured the road and the forest clean as it approached in an avalanche.
The smile on my brother's face vanished.
I looked around for Wren, but couldn’t find her. Their horses whinnied in the distance. I heard Wren’s scream.
Chapter 12.
Wren
His fingers clamped down on my wrist. They felt hot enough to nearly sear my skin—leftover heat from some spent magic. Pain exploded in my jaw as Lord Barkus struck me again. I screamed. Sharp angry, I could barely get in a breath before his large palm clamped down over my mouth. I tried to bite him, earing a slap that left me reeling. He tightened his grip on my arm, pulling me closer to him.
“You never did know how to keep your mouth shut,” Lord Barkus hissed with stale breath. “Your father ruined the whole damn lot of you—that’s what caused all of this”
I struggled against him. That wound was still fresh. My brother might be a traitor, but I wasn’t the useless fool he thought me.
“Stubborn too,” Lord Barkus laughed, preparing to hit me again. I saw it coming and dropped to my knees. I tried to roll away, but his iron grid refused to let go.
I punched him in the shins, earning a curse.
Then the air was filled with shouts. Thackery was back on his feet, brawling with two of his father’s men. He cried out in frustration as he tried to reach me—and failed.
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