by Zoe Chant
“Please,” Gale said. To be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure why the plants weren’t growing: it was a pleasant temperature inside the greenhouse, and the soil looked nice and dark. Rosemary was a bit hardier than most of the other herbs Sylvie had growing here and it should have been all right outside for most of the year, but even it didn’t seem to be doing too well here.
Mysterious, Gale thought, as, without thinking, he reached out to touch one of the thyme plants with his fingers, the better to inspect it.
Too late he realized his mistake.
With a whinny of joy, his unicorn kicked up its heels, mane shimmering – and immediately the thyme plant burst into life, shooting up at least six inches, its leaves going from a faded brown color to brilliant green, quickly becoming far larger than any thyme leaves Gale had ever seen before in his life.
Blinking, he stared down at the now monster thyme plant. As he watched, delicate purple flowers sprung from the ends of its stalks, bobbling gently under their own weight.
Uh oh, Gale thought. This isn’t good. And it’s not even the right season for it to be flowering! What the hell are you doing?!
Helping our mate, the way we should, the unicorn told him, tossing its head. She will be delighted when she sees how we have helped her.
Gale wasn’t sure delighted would be quite the right word – surprised, maybe. Though he was willing to concede she might be delighted for about three seconds, until she started actually thinking about what she was seeing in front of her.
I suppose I’ll have the chance right now to find out how Sylvie feels, Gale thought, his head jerking around as she re-opened the greenhouse door.
“Okay, so, here’s the –”
Sylvie cut herself off, staring past him at the massive thyme plant that had magically sprung up during the three entire minutes she’d been away.
“Oh,” she said, blinking. “Right. Well. When you said you’d help me to get my herbs to grow better, I wasn’t expecting such quick results.”
She turned her bewildered, questioning eyes to him, and Gale swallowed.
Well, what explanation can I possibly give her?
“I told you I have a pretty good way with plants,” he said weakly, knowing his joke – if it even deserved to be called a joke – was not going to cut any ice with her.
“I guess,” Sylvie said, her eyes going back to the thyme. “But… seriously, how did you do that? That plant’s been on the verge of death for weeks. And now it’s… well, it’s that. The world’s most enormous thyme. I don’t understand.”
Gale sighed. “No, I suppose not. And it’s not exactly an easy thing to explain, either.”
“Well, I’m definitely listening.” Sylvie cocked her head, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Pulling in a deep breath, Gale turned back to her rows of herbs. “Maybe… maybe it’d be easier for me to just show you first. And then I can explain everything afterwards.”
That would probably work? Gale thought. Perhaps Sylvie would be more open to the idea of things like unicorns and mates if she saw his powers in action first.
“Okay,” Sylvie said, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting to be enlightened.
Well. Here goes.
Steeling himself, Gale reached out, brushing his fingers against the leaves of a struggling basil plant. Immediately, the thin, wilted leaves brightened, their pale, sickly pallor at once becoming a brilliant green hue, the leaves doubling – tripling – in size in an instant. The plant sprung up by inches, its stem thickening and growing, and immediately the heady aroma of basil filled the air, reminding Gale of summer, even now, in the depths of fall.
“What the –” he heard Sylvie cry in surprise, and looked up to see her staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the basil plant, her hand raised to her lips in shock. “What – how –” She turned her gaze back to him, and the look on her face clearly told him she wasn’t sure whether to believe her own eyes.
“You see? I have a way with plants,” Gale said wryly, hoping he hadn’t just freaked her out too much.
“I mean… well, I can see that,” Sylvie said after a moment. Blinking, she looked back and forth from him to her newly lush basil and thyme. “Is this… I mean, can you do this for everything, or is it just struggling herbs?”
“It’s everything,” Gale said. “I can explain, but… it’ll probably sound pretty farfetched.”
“I’ll bet it does,” Sylvie said, wonder in her voice. Seemingly unconsciously, she reached out, lifting his hand with hers and turning it over with her fingers as if inspecting it.
Immediately, Gale felt a rush of warmth within him – it wasn’t the same as the static shock he’d felt yesterday the first time their hands had met, but rather a soft, pleasant tingling sensation.
He wondered if Sylvie felt it too.
“Well, farfetched or not, I’d really like to hear your explanation,” she said after a moment.
“It’s… a family thing,” Gale said, hoping he wasn’t being too evasive. “It’s something everyone in my family can do. We’ve always been able to. And one day, I’ll pass it on to my children as well.”
“So… like a family curse?” Sylvie asked, staring up at him. “Though it’s more like a blessing, I suppose. Unless, uh, there’s some other weird side effect I don’t know about yet.”
Gale grimaced. Time to tell the whole truth.
“I suppose you could call it that,” he said, ignoring his unicorn as it reared up indignantly, snorting I am not a side effect! “The truth is, Sylvie, that I’m not, strictly speaking, human. I don’t mean I’m a goblin or an alien or something like that,” he hurried on as a look of alarm spread over Sylvie’s face. “When I’m in this form, I’m as human as you are. But this isn’t the only form I can take.”
“Form?” Sylvie asked, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t really understand. Do you mean you’re like… a shapeshifter?”
She sounded like she was doubting the words even as they left her lips, but Gale’s heart leapt in his chest.
She understands already! his unicorn rejoiced. I told you she would.
Gale quickly tried to tamp down on his enthusiasm. Yes, Sylvie had guessed correctly. But she sounded far from either convinced or happy about the idea.
“Yes,” he said, nodding, knowing he had to be honest no matter what. “I’m what’s known as a shifter. It means I can change my form at will – but it also means I can do, well, this.”
He reached out, brushing his fingers along a row of chamomile plants. Sylvie gasped as they immediately burst into flower, white petals with yellow centers, lush and healthy and strong.
“Okay,” she said, still staring at the flowers. “Well… I guess then my next question is, what do you, uh, shift into?”
Gale hesitated. “Maybe it’d be easier if I showed you,” he said. How would Sylvie react if he told her he was a unicorn? But then, how would she react if she saw him as a unicorn?
Frowning, Sylvie narrowed her eyes. “Well, okay. Is there enough room in my backyard? You don’t, like, turn into a blue whale or something, do you?”
Despite himself, Gale laughed. “No. Nothing like that. But it still might be a little surprising. Regardless, I promise you that it’s still me in there, Sylvie. You don’t need to worry about anything.”
“Okay,” Sylvie said, sounding uncertain. “I guess… well, I guess you’d better show me then.”
Together, they made their way out into the open space of her yard. There were so few plants growing that Gale knew he’d have plenty of room to shift without worrying about trampling anything or damaging something.
He glanced at Sylvie, who was looking at him expectantly.
“All right,” he told her, taking a step back. “Here goes.”
And with that, he began to shift.
Chapter 6
Oh. Oh my goodness, Sylvie thought, her breath stopping in her throat.
To be honest, she hadn’t been certain what to
expect when Gale had told her he could change forms – nothing, really, she realized, despite the obviously magical thing he’d done right in front of her with her plants.
But now she realized she’d been wrong.
Because this was far from nothing.
First, there’d been a golden glow that had enveloped Gale from head to foot. Then there’d been a kind of… shimmer, and then – and then –
And then there was a unicorn standing in my back garden, Sylvie thought in a daze.
She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then opened them again.
No, that’s definitely a unicorn. And it’s definitely standing in my back garden.
Blinking, she took a bit of skin on her forearm between her fingers and pinched. Hard.
“Ouch.”
That had hurt! But at least now she knew she wasn’t dreaming.
The unicorn gazed at her with large, silvery eyes, its snow-white mane glistening in the mid-morning sun, its single silver horn shining where it rose up on its forehead, long and thin and elegant.
Sylvie gasped as she took it in, realizing how truly beautiful it was.
No, she thought suddenly, shaking her head. It’s not an it. It’s a he. It’s definitely Gale.
Despite everything, somehow, Sylvie could tell it was still him. It must have been the piercing silvery eyes – they were definitely Gale’s. They’d been one of the first things she’d noticed – and loved – about him.
The unicorn standing in her garden seemed to be regarding her quietly, waiting for her to make the first move.
Sylvie took a deep breath. I have to let him know I’m not frightened of him.
“Wow,” she said, the word leaving her lips as little more than an exhale. “Okay. You got me – I really didn’t believe you at first, but I guess I can admit when I’m wrong.”
She took one or two steps forward, before hesitating. What was the etiquette surrounding this kind of thing? He wasn’t a horse – would he object to having his nose petted? Should she offer him a carrot, or a lump of sugar?
Despite herself, Sylvie felt a giggle rising in the back of her throat.
Well, I could always just ask, I suppose.
“Is it all right if I pet you?” Her fingers twitched a little in anticipation – she was really curious to know what a unicorn’s coat felt like!
The unicorn tossed its head, before stretching out its neck, nuzzling gently at her arm.
I guess that’s a yes!
Sylvie raised her hand, sliding her fingers gently over the unicorn’s mane. It was soft and silky – not like the coarse hair of a usual horse’s mane. And the pelt beneath was just the same, like running her hands over expensive silk. The unicorn didn’t seem to mind her taking her time to run her fingers over it at all, as if it was happy to wait until she felt she really believed what she was seeing.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay – I believe you. You’re a unicorn. But… you better believe I have a few questions for you. Uh, can you turn back?”
The unicorn tossed its head again, before being enveloped in that same shimmering golden cloud as before. Suddenly, Gale was standing before her once more – apparently, his clothes came with him when he shifted, which Sylvie was, remotely, grateful for. She wasn’t sure she could handle two mythical sights in one day!
And seeing Gale naked would definitely count as that, she thought before she could stop herself, her eyes roving hungrily over him.
Somehow, finding out he was a unicorn wasn’t off-putting in the slightest.
If anything, it only made him more attractive – How many guys can say they can turn into a beautiful, mythical creature?! Who, coincidentally, can also fix my gardening problems?!
“Sylvie?” Gale asked, jerking her out of her reverie.
“Yes!” she said hurriedly, trying to push her thoughts – her sexy, sexy thoughts – about him to the back of her mind. “Uh. Sorry!” She shook her head, pulling in a deep breath. “Okay. Well, like I said, I guess I have some questions. But… maybe it’d be better to ask them over a cup of coffee and some cake.”
“I’d like nothing better than to answer any questions you might have,” Gale said warmly. “And to eat some more of your amazing cake.”
Sylvie laughed, feeling strangely at ease despite what she’d just seen. She led him back inside, gesturing for him to sit at her dining room table.
“I’ll brew some coffee,” she said, walking across to the kitchen area. Her home was so small that it was only a few steps away. “And for cake, well, I have something a little special.”
The honey cake I’ve only just perfected.
She’d finished making it last night, layering the slices of gingerbread between thick slatherings of cream and butter, with her own added extra of butterscotch. She reached into the fridge and pulled out the cake, cutting off two generous slices, lifting each one onto a plate, and taking them back across to the table.
“Wow,” Gale said, blinking. “That looks good enough to… well, to eat.”
Sylvie laughed, twisting her fingers together. “It’s… well, it’s kind of new. I haven’t trialed it on anyone yet.” She pushed one of the plates toward Gale. She was still bursting with questions, but weren’t difficult questions easier to ask over cake?
“Well, I can tell just by looking at it that it’s going to be incredible,” Gale said, picking up a spoon. He sliced off a large hunk and lifted it to his mouth. “Mm,” he said, chewing, his eyes flickering closed.
Sylvie couldn’t help but stare. She’d thought he was gorgeous from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, but looking at him now, she felt her heart kick it up a notch. He looked blissful, like he was experiencing heaven in his mouth.
“That is… incredible,” he said, once he’d swallowed. “It’s perfect – I’ve never tasted anything that good. How do you make it?”
“It’s not complicated – it’s slices of gingerbread, with cream and butter. You’re supposed to make it the day before you’re planning on eating it, so the gingerbread gets nice and soft between the cream layers. I added my own little thing, with a bit of butterscotch, but it’s not how I was originally taught it.” She swallowed. “I don’t really want to sell the original, to be honest. It’s a recipe that’s close to my heart – the first thing that really made me love baking. It was my grandmother’s recipe, and so it’s a bit special to me.”
“She taught you how to make this?” Gale asked.
Sylvie nodded. “Yeah – as soon as I was old enough. Before that, though, I would always look forward to going around to her place, knowing she’d have a slice of cake waiting just for me.” Sylvie’s throat tightened as she spoke, the way it always did when she thought about her grandmother, even though she’d died some time ago now. Sylvie still missed her. “I owe her everything, from wanting to be a baker in the first place to this house. It was her house, and she left it to me in her will. It’s meant I’ve always known I had a place of my own back here, if I needed one. So really, I can’t say how grateful I am to her.”
“I can tell she was very special to you,” Gale said, his voice soft.
“You can say that again.” Sylvie took a shaky breath. She still got a little choked up when thinking about her grandmother. She was glad she’d had the chance to tell Gale about her, but now, she had a few questions of her own. “Speaking of very special families…”
Gale nodded, seeming to understand her at once. “I want to tell you everything you want to know. Where should I start?”
Biting her lower lip, Sylvie pondered. “Well, how about at the beginning? How did your family come to be… well, unicorns?”
Gale laughed softly. “I’m not sure anyone really knows now – we’ve always been like this, as far back as anyone can remember. It’s not just us, though. There’re many shifters out there in the world, for any kind of animal you can think of. Bears, cats, zebras, antelopes, pandas… if you can think of an animal, I guarantee there’s a shifte
r out there who can change into it.”
“Okay, wow,” Sylvie mumbled. She wasn’t sure what to think of that. She’d need some time to get used to it. “But… you’re not exactly an everyday kind of animal.”
“No, I’m not,” Gale said, shaking his head. “And there’re others like me out there. Griffins, pegasus, even dragons – they’re all out there too. But they tend to keep themselves to themselves, for reasons I’m sure you can understand. If a human saw a regular animal in the street, they wouldn’t think too much of it. But a griffin… well, I’m sure you can see the problem there.”
“I dunno,” Sylvie said slowly, still trying to process the dragons part of what Gale had told her. “I might look twice if I saw a panda wandering down the main street of Girdwood Springs.”
Gale laughed. “Well, understandable. But an alley cat? Probably not that big of a deal.”
Sylvie had to smile, despite the fact Gale had just turned her whole world on its head. “Yeah, you’re right about that.” She looked around. “Speaking of…”
As if on cue, Brioche jumped up onto the chair next to Gale, still purring his head off at the sight of his new friend.
“He really seems to have taken to you,” Sylvie said softly. “Does that have something to do with your being, uh, a shifter? Maybe he can sense you’re… um…”
Not human didn’t seem quite the right thing to say. But she wasn’t sure how else to put it!
“I think so,” Gale said, his fingers ruffling through Brioche’s thick fur. “Most shifters have an affinity with animals, though it doesn’t always work out that way. I don’t know that a cat shifter would be able to bond very well with a mouse. Or a lion shifter with an antelope.”
“That figures,” Sylvie laughed. “But a unicorn… well, maybe that’s universal.”
They sat together in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room Brioche’s booming purr.
“Sylvie,” Gale said after a moment, his voice soft and warm. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”
“Oh, okay.” Sylvie blinked, wondering what more there could possibly be. “Shoot.”