The unicorn’s shaking continued as the echo of paralysis crept up and through it. Making sure the streets were empty, Adren let go of the invisibility and hugged the unicorn’s neck.
“She is gone, and powerless. Thou canst not be caught by her again. I promise thee.” She let the memory of the spell wash over herself as well, became a mirror to the unicorn. Its remembered experience fell into the same rhythm and potency as hers and it was as if they were both the same creature in that moment. The ghost of the spell moved to subdue everything in its path until it arrived, in Adren’s mind, at the dark place. She let herself experience again how the spell had cracked the barrier. This caught the unicorn’s attention. Its memory paused as it listened to her experience. The crack slivered itself open again, the magic flowed through it to overwhelm the spell with its power.
This caused the unicorn’s shaking to become more violent as it tried to assert its memory over hers, tried to make her feel what it had felt, but Adren held fast. The magic within her helped, heightening her reliving of its release and its victory until the unicorn let its memory of the spell wash away with hers, leaving only calm behind. Its muscles relaxed and it bent to nudge her with its nose, grateful. Adren gave its neck a tiny squeeze.
Through all this, the stinging in Adren’s forehead hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had grown worse. Now her whole head throbbed with it, making it difficult to think. She kneaded her forehead in an effort to encourage it to go away.
They only made it a block before she had to halt and try to deal with… whatever was happening. There was no injury, and the unicorn’s horn did nothing, and yet the pain remained.
Adren was about to let the unicorn become visible again and let her chest relax when five people came down the street, voices slurred and gaits unsteady. One of them, a skinny man who seemed the leader, saw Adren and pointed at her, laughing.
“Can’t hold your drink, can you?” He then proceeded to trip over his own feet.
Adren put her hand to her side and walked again, her steps quick. She had waited too long to renew the invisibility, and now the tightness in her chest made it hard to breathe. Her magic only made this more acute; it pounded in her ears now, screamed at her to use it.
The skinny man regained his footing and followed after her. Adren walked faster, but he kept up and leaned in towards her, grinning as his friends yelled at him incoherently.
“You come with me, and I’ll show you how it’s done.” His breath stank of alcohol. Without looking at him, Adren raised a hand and wiggled her middle fingers. If she spoke, she might lose her hold on both the invisibility and the magic. All she had to do was get past them without causing an incident. She could do that. The unicorn did a nervous dance beside her and she had to sway to keep in contact with it. The man spat at her, missing her hand by a hair’s breadth and hitting her shoulder instead.
“That was rude,” he growled. Then he reached out to grab Adren with unsteady arms. She couldn’t move fast enough and he pulled her towards him, breaking her contact with the unicorn. His eyes widened when it appeared and his friends became dead silent. Adren wrenched herself free, her chest aching. Please let them be drunk enough to laugh it off. Or something similarly harmless.
“The hell is that?” yelled one of his friends.
“I think we’re drunk,” said the man, looking more stunned than anything else. “It’s not real.” If she just walked away…
“You said that this morning, too, when we were sober. I think it is real.” Gods. And, as she realized the implications of ‘this morning’: in hell.
“Wait,” said the man as he grabbed Adren’s arm. “We need to figure out if it’s real.” He tried to push her out of the way, but she freed herself and stepped back towards the unicorn. Her forehead burned. It interfered with her ability to think, but not so much that she didn’t understand what was happening. They had seen the unicorn earlier that day. They had seen it, right when the potion maker had captured it, and they had done nothing to help. The magic within her pulsed in sync with her forehead and though it nearly caused her to lose her balance every time it strengthened, she welcomed it. She almost fell back against the unicorn, staying upright out of sheer will. For its sake, she had to stay in control of herself. The skinny man lunged at her when she could do nothing to block him and punched her in the stomach. Adren doubled over, more to stop the magic than the pain, though his blow had been solid. Her whole self was nearly infiltrated by this power. It had only a few corners left to fill.
The skinny man’s friends had caught up to them by this point and stood behind him, an audience. They cheered when he punched Adren, yelling encouragement at him.
The unicorn shied away from the skinny man and stood in place, stamping at the ground. Adren wanted it to do something, but it was too scared and she knew it. Likely it couldn’t understand what it felt from her, which only made it worse. She tried to direct her emotions and, by extension, the unicorn, but she couldn’t. Focus too much on that, and the magic made its move. Suppress the magic and watch her self-control slip. She didn’t know how long she could keep this balancing act up.
“You know, I think you’re right,” the skinny man said to his friends as he approached the unicorn. He tripped on an uneven patch on the road and pitched forward onto the unicorn. His hands flailed until they found something to hold onto: the unicorn’s still-healing flesh. Both the unicorn and Adren screamed as his hands dug into the wounds. The unicorn took off at once, leaving the man to fall on his face. But Adren could not run. The last place had been settled. The magic had finished its work in her and nothing could suppress its roar to be released.
Now, with her horned companion gone, Adren didn’t care anymore what happened to these drunks who had watched the unicorn in pain and done nothing. Or rather, she did care. She cared quite a bit.
It didn’t take much to let her magic explode.
Chapter Ten
When Adren came to, she found herself lying on a bed in a bedroom that would not look out of place in Lord Watorej’s mansion. Unless there was someone else who would put two vanity tables in the same room.
Gods in hell.
The magic inside her had melted into a gentle background presence. As much as she didn’t regret letting it loose, Adren hoped in the name of every saint that it would stay this subdued for the rest of her life. It did bother her, though, that she couldn’t seem to remember what the aftermath of her magic had been.
She got out of bed and went to the window. It was both locked and barred, although that didn’t keep it from letting in morning light. Aside from that, she was on the third floor of the mansion and there was nothing visible that she’d be able to use to climb down. Next to try was the door, which was also locked. Beneath it, she could see the shoes of whoever had been set to guard her. She sat back on the bed and searched the room for something she could use as a weapon. The furniture consisted of two vanities, an empty bookshelf, various paintings, one large wardrobe and one smaller one, and the bed. Upon opening what could be opened, Adren discovered that all the contents of the drawers had been removed, and the large wardrobe contained only a used handkerchief. Wrinkling her nose at it, she closed the wardrobe before returning to the bed.
The question at this moment was less how she would escape and more where Nadin was and how she would get the both of them out of there. She could throw the handkerchief under the door and scare the guard away with uncleanliness. Yes. That would definitely work. No doubt about it.
The door opened and Lord Watorej entered. Adren stood.
“How are you?” he asked. His concern appeared genuine.
“Locked up.”
“I didn’t want you to run away. I need your help.”
“With what?” She watched without moving as he sat down on the bed and gestured for her to do the same.
“It’s something of a long story.”
“I can stand. You can make it short.”
He sighed and s
tared at his hands. For a moment, he was silent, and Adren could tell from the way he would move his lips every once in a while only to grimace that he was trying to figure out how he was going to explain himself.
“I’m cursed. My wife—she didn’t do it—but…” His hands balled into fists. Then he took a deep breath and tried again. “A little over five years ago, I fell in love with a selkie woman, but she didn’t want me like I wanted her. So, I made a bargain with the potion maker. Once I had the selkie, though, I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain, and so she and I were cursed. She started to forget who she was, and I became controlled by my possessions. You freed her, which I could not do because of my curse, but now I am left behind. So, when I discovered you had magic, I had you brought here. Will you free me from this?”
A curse? That explained a lot.
Adren took a moment to process his story. So, he hadn’t been responsible for the lady’s forgetting. Well, not like she’d thought. And he’d kidnapped the lady, although that had been clear from what she'd said. Although, as he said, she was free now. Adren could escape with Nadin without having to ever touch this curse Lord Watorej had clearly brought upon himself.
Except for the fact that Nadin had made it clear he didn’t want to leave town. His mother wouldn’t be able to travel, after all. He would only be imprisoned again.
This was nonsense. Even if Adren wanted to, she couldn’t break the curse. She couldn’t even make light! And Nadin had magic, too, under much better control than hers. Oh gods, and Lord Watorej would have talked to him about this when she’d been left with the unicorn, which meant Nadin had already refused for who knew what reason. Fine. She’d escape and go get him. He needed someone to talk sense into him.
“No.”
The lord’s face fell, but only for an instant before fury bloomed, as if something other than himself had taken his features and twisted them into what it wanted him to feel.
“Then I will let neither you nor Nadin leave this mansion for as long as I have breath. You have taken what is mine and so I have taken you.”
At this, Adren had to laugh. “Yours? You think that she and her sealskin were yours? Must you be so saintsall stupid?”
Lord Watorej started at the swearing. “Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly.
“Of course. You’re the idiot who kidnapped a selkie and forced her to marry him, broke his agreement with his accomplice and got cursed by her, and now thinks I’ll help to break that curse. And if you think you can keep me caged here, that only proves how little you know me.”
“I know you stole a substantial amount of money from my vault with the help of magic. The particularly antagonized owner of a dye shop was only too happy to inform my officers of the pale young woman who came in, threatened her, and left with black and brown dye. And, with that rather spectacular display last night, I knew who you were. The cash in your coat pocket only confirmed it. Am I still stupid?”
Adren didn't move. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of checking her pockets.
“Granted, if you still refuse,” the lord continued, “I might find that unicorn of yours and see what I can make it do. A potion maker of our mutual acquaintance informs me it would be simple.” While the connections he’d made about her identity as the thief hadn’t impressed her much—she had had the money in her pocket, after all—the fact that the potion maker had begun to make good on her promise made Adren’s muscles clench.
“If you or anyone in your service comes anywhere near the unicorn, you’d better pray that the gods don’t take too much of an interest in you. The saints won’t be letting you into heaven when I kill you.” If he or his servants had taken the money, they had almost certainly also taken her knife, so she didn’t reach to her hip, but she didn’t need to. Her words were blade enough.
“I see. You need time.” Lord Watorej walked to the door. “While you decide, know this: Nadin has worked for me for a few years now and, from all I’ve heard of his supervisors and the other mechanics, his character is impeccable. I’ve heard rumours that you have some sort of hold over him, which may explain your alliance, but I have chosen not to believe them. For now. And, since it seems you do care about more than just yourself, I feel the need to inform you that, if those rumours are true, you are playing with both the reputation and future of a very good man. You should consider that.”
“You should consider the possibility he did nothing wrong.”
“Neither did I.” He knocked on the door and the servant guarding it—the footman, of all people—let him out. The two of them spoke a moment before he left, their voices too quiet for Adren to make out the words.
Nadin was in the mansion, was he? That was… convenient.
There was also the matter of the footman. Lord Watorej had officers, and probably also a private prison. Why lock them up in the mansion with servants as guards? He couldn’t be that idiotic, although it could be the curse. Adren wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t about to sit around trying to figure it out. She had a mansion to escape from and a Nadin to rescue. Not necessarily in that order.
So, she began her work. The windows may have been locked up tight, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be useful. When Adren checked the drawers on the vanity tables again, she found that she could remove them. This she did with care, lest she disturb the footman too soon. Then she tied together bedsheets and anchored one end to the bed. There weren’t enough to get her to the ground, but her guard didn’t need to know that. She brought them to the window and set them in easy reach as she hefted a drawer. If she hit the lock just so…
She missed the lock, but she hit the window and it cracked. Close enough. With a solid crash against the glass, it shattered.
Outside the door, keys jangled and the footman muttered to himself. Quick, quick.
Adren threw the bedsheet rope through the hole in the window and turned herself invisible. The footman entered the room, did a double take, and gaped.
“That’s not possible!”
As he approached the window, Adren came up behind him and made her move. One arm went around the neck, hand grasping above the opposite elbow. The other hand pressed his head down as she squeezed. By the end of a nine-count, he went limp. Adren grabbed his keys and locked the door behind her.
Before she could relax, however, there was a shout from the other end of the hallway. Another footman stood by a door, face white. She let herself become visible and made a face at him. He paused, then ran at her. She waited, waited, waited, for just the right moment—then stepped out of the way. And kicked him, for good measure. He fell flat on his face. When he tried to get up, his nose all bloody, Adren punched him and he went down again. His pockets contained several keys, which she took to the door he’d been guarding to try them on its lock.
The footman in her room should have woken by now and started banging on the door or shouting, or both. Someone from nearby should have heard the other footman’s shout and come to his aid. There should have been another guard or two on each of the doors, all now trying to stop her. And yet, the hall remained silent. Adren was having an inkling.
But, first, the lock.
“It’s the brass one,” Nadin said through the door after she’d tried and failed with four keys. Adren opened her mouth to make a sarcastic retort, but he spoke before she could: “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you right away.” She satisfied herself with rolling her eyes and unlocking the door. Nadin more or less ran out of the room, then stopped halfway down the hallway and turned around with a puzzled look.
“Lord Watorej has set a trap,” she informed him.
“Hell.” The corners of Nadin’s mouth drooped. “Do you know what it is?”
“Certainly. I can read his mind.” Adren raised an eyebrow. Nadin raised his hands.
“I was just asking. If you could tell he has a trap, who knows what else you’d figured out? What do we do?”
“Escape. The easy way or the hard way.”
“W
hat’s the hard way?” he asked, cringing. Odd. Hadn’t Lord Watorej spoken to him about the curse? No, Nadin must share her desire to deal with the worst side before the best. Oh, sweet saints, had she just likened that boy to herself? Ugh. Never again. It felt too uncomfortable.
“Resist your lord at every step.”
“Isn’t that generally how escapes work?”
“Or you could break the curse that’s on him.”
Nadin’s eyes grew round. “The what?”
Saints. Nadin had managed to keep his magic secret after all.
“The potion maker put a curse on him because she had helped him get the lady and he didn’t honour his side of their agreement. He asked me to break it, and I refused. We can leave easily if it’s broken. You might have to move to a different town if it isn’t.” There. Simple. Straightforward. Adren had no idea how the lord had taken any longer to explain it himself.
“Why did he ask you? You don’t have that kind of magic. Do you?” Adren wondered whether she should tell him about the change in her. No, he didn’t need to know. They wouldn’t see each other again after this.
“What you really should be asking is why he didn’t ask you. I didn’t tell him you could do it, seeing as you seem to be trying to keep your magic secret.”
“And you’re not?”
“Not actively. Will you do it?”
Nadin bit his lower lip. The footman on the ground stirred and they both froze, but he soon grew still again.
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
With some effort, they woke the footman and asked him to bring them to Lord Watorej. He was a little fuzzy when he came to, but that wore off before too long and he was able to take them straight to the lord. He and five security officers waited for them in the main entrance to the mansion. Why he expected them to attempt escape through the front entrance, Adren didn’t know. But he’d said he wasn’t stupid, so…
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