by Mac Flynn
I raised the book up. “So is that how he started on his collection?”
“Yes,” Emery replied as he returned his full attention to me. “Mr. Fox has been interested in myths and legends for the greater portion of his life. He has put much effort and a great deal of money into finding the kernel of truth in the stories.”
“I’d say he found a couple of whole cobs,” I quipped.
“A very apt observation. But if you will excuse me, I have some duties to attend to.” Emery bowed to me and moved over to the door. He paused and glanced over his shoulder at me. “If you prefer I could have your supper delivered here.”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Very well.” He stepped from the room and closed the door behind himself.
6
I looked at the cover of the book and opened to the first few pages. The entire book was handwritten in the same flourishing style as the title page. I wandered over to the desk and plopped myself in the leather chair to peruse this strange gift of a book. This was going to take a while to read.
The book was divided into chapters, but there wasn’t an appendix or list of chapters. I leaned back, put my feet on the desk, and flipped through the pages. Most of the text referenced Latin scripts without translating them, so I browsed through the pictures. They were hand-drawn pencil sketches of unicorns. Whoever the author was he had the look right. The unicorn looked exactly like the one I’d seen down to the length of the mane. The only thing missing was the look in her eyes. The artist failed to capture the kind, infinite gaze of that creature.
I brushed my hand over the picture and sighed. “Looks like you and me are in big trouble. . .” I whispered.
I jumped when there came a knock on the door. It opened and Emery stepped inside with a tray in his hands. He walked over to me and placed the tray on the desk. There was a plate of bloody meat on the tray. I shut the book and looked over the limited variety.
“The chef must love me. All he has to do is thaw some meat and slap it on a plate,” I commented.
Emery bowed his head. “I aim to serve.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that mean.”
“It means I handle all of Mr. Fox’s cooking, and yours as well,” Emery admitted.
I fell back into my chair and tilted my head to one side to study him. “What don’t you do around here?”
“All final decisions are made by Mr. Fox,” he told me.
“Must be hard being a rich guy making all those exhausting decisions,” I quipped. I set the book on the desk and grabbed the utensils.
“There are challenges, but Mr. Fox handles the pressure quite well,” Emery replied. His eyes wandered to the book. “I hope you’re finding the book satisfactory.”
“It’s a barrel of laughs, especially the Latin,” I commented.
“Have you studied the language?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “Can’t read a thing of it.”
“If you would like I can offer my services as a tutor,” he suggested.
I put my knife and fork down, and glared up at him. “Listen, I know you’re trying to make me feel at home, and I have to admit you’re not doing that bad of a job, but this isn’t my home.” I stretched my arms out and let the long arms of the overcoat dangle over my hands. “This isn’t even my coat. This isn’t where I belong.”
“And where exactly do you belong?” he returned.
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “In a lunatic asylum, or in a lab as a guinea pig.”
“Have you stopped to think that Mr. Fox has kept you from both those fates?” he pointed out.
I snorted. “How kind of him, especially since he’s the one who did this to me.”
“Are you so sure?” he argued.
I dropped my arm and glared at him. “I’m pretty sure he was in the alley with me.”
“But was it he who bit you?” he countered.
I hunched over my plate and turned my face away from him. “No. . .”
Emery walked around the desk and put a hand on my shoulder. “Fate can be cruel, but that hardly implies that bitter circumstances will remain in place for the rest of your life. I would suggest you make the best of what you have and work towards bettering your circumstances.”
I wiped a few loose tears from my eyes and glanced up at him. “Thanks for the pep talk. I guess I needed it.”
He bowed his head. “I’m glad to be of assistance. Were you in need of anything else?”
I shook my head and picked up my utensils. “Just a few minutes alone with some nice meat. Oh, and any way I can try a potato? Just for old times’ sake?”
“As you wish,” he agreed.
“And maybe could I get a map of this place?” I asked him.
Emery smiled. “I will see what I can do. I could also bring you a new set of clothes.”
I looked down at myself dressed as I was like a fashionable hobo. “I think that’d be a good idea,” I agreed.
“Very well. In the meantime, please enjoy the full use of the library,” he offered.
The potato and clothes were duly delivered, and consumed and worn. I resumed my studying of the book, but gave up after another hour. The pictures weren’t that interesting. It was about that time I found myself in the grips of the mother of all stomach aches. Fortunately, I was back in my room when the potato hit me like a cannonball to the stomach. I clutched at my gut and rolled onto the bed.
“Looks like vegetables are off the menu. . .” I muttered.
I slept in fits and starts for most of the day, and after sunset my stomach was no longer fighting me. I sat on my bed with the unicorn book in hand when the door opened and Fox made his entrance.
I glared at him and shut the book. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
“This is my castle,” he reminded me.
“This is my bedroom,” I countered.
“Fair enough, but I didn’t come here to argue about manners,” he commented as he walked over to the bed. “I don’t suppose I can convince you of my good intentions in capturing this unicorn?”
I snorted. “You’d have to do some pretty good convincing to get me to believe you lied to me for a good reason.”
“What would you say if I told you that others might hunt the unicorn?” he suggested.
I crossed my arms across my chest. “I’m listening.”
“Surely you don’t believe I’m the only one aware that mythological beasts exist,” he pointed out.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked him.
“It means that if I don’t find these creatures, someone else will, and they might not be as caring as I,” he told me.
I snorted. “From what I heard and saw in the cells you weren’t exactly a popular keeper.”
“Very well.” Fox turned away from me and towards the door. “I had hoped for your cooperation, but I have other means of finding the unicorn.”
“You mean the dead fly trail?” I quipped.
He set his hand on the door handle and shook his head. “Not quite. The bridle it wears is equipped with a tracking device like the one in your collar. It will allow me to pinpoint its location, so long as it hasn’t disappeared completely.”
“Then it sounds like you don’t need my help, anyway,” I pointed out. I grabbed his overcoat that hung over the end of the bed, wadded it up, and tossed it at him. He caught it in one hand. “And here’s your coat back. I don’t need it anymore.”
Fox smiled and left. I sat back down on the bed and opened my book, but couldn’t read any of the pages. Not that Latin was my first language, but our brief but volatile conversation irked me. I shut the book and glared at the wall and TV opposite me.
“Like I’d want to help him hunt down a unicorn just so he could experiment on it. . .” I muttered.
In a few minutes I heard the faint whirring of helicopter blades. I dropped the book to my side and hurried to the window. Fox’s helicopter flew over the castle grounds and south tow
ards City Park. He was out on the hunt again.
“Go break a leg. . .” I mumbled as I turned away and plopped myself back on the bed.
That struck a bell in my mind. I recalled my attempt at riding the beast, and Muir telling me about the unicorn giving free rides to strangers in the park. The people had always come away not remembering what had happened. I was halfway through the small book, so I flipped through the remaining legible pages for any notations or comments about the unicorn’s mesmerizing abilities.
I reached the end of the book and furrowed my brow. I hadn’t found any mention of hypnotizing or falling into a trance, but perhaps I’d missed it. My search had been fast and brief. I didn’t have the scholarly stamina to reread the book, so I jumped off the bed and walked out into the hall.
The passage was empty, but after a brief look around the eastern wing I found Emery in the gymnasium. He stood in front of the treadmill panel and tapped the numerous buttons.
Emery turned at my entrance. “Is there something I can help you with?”
I held up the book to him. “I was wondering if you could tell me which chapter has the info about the unicorn’s hypnotizing abilities.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not aware there is such a chapter, or that the unicorn has such an ability.”
“According to Mrs. Muir they do. She said she’s seen the unicorn hypnotize people and take them for rides,” I told him. An idea hit me, and I glanced from the book to Emery. “Does Fox know about the unicorn’s ability?”
“He is completely unaware of it,” Emery replied.
The color drained from my face as the full realization of facts hit me. The unicorn hated Fox, and Fox had no idea the unicorn could reverse their roles and control him. If that happened, the beast could force him onto his back and-
“Oh shit,” I murmured.
“I beg your pardon?” Emery asked me.
I flew at him and shook his shoulders. “If we don’t get to your boss he’s going to wind up with a really bad neck ache!”
Emery readjusted his skewed glasses. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
I waved the book in his face and pointed at the cover. “The flies get killed because they’re on the unicorn when it disappears!”
Emery raised an eyebrow. “An interesting theory, by I fail to-”
“Muir told me the unicorn could hypnotize people into riding it, and that its eyes were angrier than before Fox caught her! If the unicorn manages to hypnotize Fox and he rides that thing when it disappears he’ll be killed!”
Emery’s lips pursed together. “I see your point.” He whipped out his cell phone from his breast pocket, speed-dialed a number and pressed the machine to his ear. His face grew more grave and he pulled the phone away after only a few seconds. “I’m afraid Mr. Fox has set his phone to silent. He won’t answer.”
“Now what?” I asked him.
Emery stuffed his cell phone back in his pocket. “Please remain here while I warn Mr. Fox.”
He turned away, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait a sec. You’re not going without me. You may not need my sniffer to find the unicorn, but I’m the only one who can touch it. That’s got to count for something.”
Emery glanced at me over the rim of his glasses. “Have you forgotten that your collar prevents you from leaving the castle without Mr. Fox’s permission?”
“Can’t you shut it off?” I suggested.
“No. My access is restricted to adjusting their settings,” he admitted.
“Then do that so we can get going!” I snapped.
“The lowest setting to which I have access is the default, or what you experienced last night,” he warned me.
I winced, but stiffened my jaw. “I can live with that.”
“Very well then.” Emery turned to me and pulled out his tablet. With a few swishes of his fingers I heard my collar switch down to the default setting. “You will feel the pain once we leave the helicopter pad.”
“Then fly fast for both our sakes,” I ordered him.
“Follow me.”
Emery’s steps were long and his stride was quick as he led me up to the roof. He paused at the top of the stairs, but I hurried onto the empty helicopter pad. I turned to him and gestured to the empty pad.
“Please tell me you have an invisible helicopter,” I asked him.
Emery pressed his hand against the right wall of the stairwell. “Not quite.”
The wall lit up like a dark computer screen and buttons appeared. Emery typed in a pass-code that was too fast for me to follow. A noise in front of me caught my attention, and I turned to see the pad split in the middle and pull apart. A pair of helicopter blades appeared from below followed quickly by the rest of the machine. It sat atop another pad that replaced the open one.
“I have got to get me one of these,” I quipped.
“Perhaps another time,” Emery returned as he strode past me. “We must hurry.”
7
Emery took the pilot’s seat and I took the co-pilot’s chair. In a few moments we lifted off. My collar activated moment the helicopter skids left the ground. I clenched my teeth and grabbed at my collar as it filled me with one electric shock after another.
“Will you be all right?” Emery asked me.
I gripped my door handle and took deep breaths between the spasming pain. “Yeah, but I really hope this won’t take long.”
Emery made a straight shot for the park. He clicked on a small screen on the dashboard between us. It looked like a radar screen and a small blip beeped to the south of us.
“Is that the unicorn or Fox?” I asked him.
“It is Mr. Fox’s cell phone,” Emery told me.
“So we just-” I jerked back when something slammed against the windshield.
A large crack burst from the point of impact and stretched across the entire length of the glass. The helicopter swayed from side to side, and I clung to the Oh-Shit handle above my door. The shadow on the windshield gave a bone-chilling laugh. There was a flash of pale skin, and the thing leapt off the glass and into the darkness to our right.
My only consolation was the sudden collision took my mind off the pain. I glanced at Emery. “Please tell me that was a laughing bird.”
“I do not believe so,” Emery replied.
Something swooped downward past my window. I plastered my face against the glass and peered into the darkness. My werewolf eyes saw nothing.
“I think it might be-ah!” My face slammed against the door window as something rocked the helicopter from beneath.
Emery gripped the controls with both hands, but we swerved from side-to-side. “Any further disruption and the blades will lose their lift!” he yelled at me. The flashing lights on the panel told me the same thing, but in a language I couldn’t understand.
I turned to my door. “Time to do something really stupid, Gwen. . .” I murmured.
I took a deep breath and swung open my door. A chill wind swept into the cabin. The ground was a dizzying one thousand feet beneath us. One false move and I’d be a flat werewolf on some city street. I slipped onto the floor boards at the foot of my chair and leaned over the edge to look beneath the helicopter. My collar slid down my neck, and for a brief moment the collar dropped from my skin and I had a respite from the shock before it dropped back onto me.
It wasn’t the only thing returned. There, swinging like a monkey from the left skid, was Pale Guy.
He grinned at me and his red eyes glowed in the dark night. “Good evening, my old friend. It seems we are well-met.”
“Are you trying to get us killed?” I shouted at him.
Pale Guy opened his hands and dropped a foot below the underbelly of the helicopter. Contrary to my belief that he would fall to his death, he instead floated between the skids. The helicopter moved at fifty miles per hour, but the only way you would have known that by looking at him was his hair blowing behind him.
“I only want Emery killed, but you seem to be col
lateral damage,” he quipped.
My pulse quickened. “What the hell are you talking about? I helped you!”
He wagged his finger at me and shook his head. “But now you’re helping him, and we can’t have that.”
“I’m not something that can be written off of an insurance policy!” I argued.
“You don’t have to be.” He tilted his head to the side in mock imitation of my upside down face. “But you seem uncomfortable. Let me fix that.”
Pale Guy floated over to the right skid. I leaned further out to watch him. He rattled the skid and the helicopter tipped from one side to the other. My flimsy grip on the sides of the door meant I slipped out.
“Gwen!” I heard Emery shout.
A long drop with a hard stop awaited me if my hand hadn’t grabbed on to the left skid. I dangled there swinging for a few moments before my other hand caught hold of the skid and I pulled my upper body over the bar. Pale Guy swooped in front of me so our faces nearly touched.
“More comfortable?” he asked me.
“Are you insane?” I growled. My grip loosened and stiffened according to the voltage going through me.
He frowned and floated three feet away from me. “When you’ve been through as much torture and pain as Fox did to me you wouldn’t have all your faculties, either. It’s the same torture I see in your face, and all because of that collar you wear.” His face lit up and his smile reappeared. “But we shouldn’t be arguing. We should be helping one another to rid the world of Fox.” He held out his hand to me. “Will you help me get our revenge? It will be sweet.”
I tried to pull myself higher, but the metal was slick. My stomach slid off the skid and I dangled again. The world flew by beneath my feet, and in front of me was the smiling face of Pale Guy. His pale hand hovered a foot in front of me. I would need to let go to grab him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I don’t want to kill anyone!”
Pale Guy’s smile slid off his face and he drew back his hand. “Fox deserves to die for what he did to me. For what he did to us.”