by Lizzy Ford
She nudges me with her velvet muzzle, and I hug her. I love the way horses smell, like hay and happiness.
I don’t think I ever really lost my belief in unicorns.
She’s wearing a dog collar to keep her in place and paws at the ground.
A second collar lies at her feet. I bend to retrieve it. The name Jack is stitched into it.
She sniffs it and gives a low, mournful neigh.
“You had a boyfriend,” I say. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where he is?”
She nuzzles the collar.
With a glance towards the fight, I slip the unicorn’s collar off. We’re right beside the ship, and it hits me that we don’t really have a coherent plan. So what if Dan opens the doors of the space cruiser that swallowed us, if Princess Layla and I can’t fly the ship? Why didn’t Huey and Duke come with us and leave the door to Dan?
I move away from the unicorn to watch the fight in consternation. Princess Layla’s tunic is streaked with red, and she’s sweating. The fact there’s blood bothers me. I don’t think I would’ve written it that way when I was a kid. Her movements seem to be slowing down, too. She’s almost spent, while the man in red slams his sword into hers with powerful strokes.
“Psst! Elf!”
I look over my shoulder. Dan is hiding behind boxes near the ship.
The henchmen are too absorbed in the fight to notice me. I tiptoe backwards until I reach the boxes. Huey stands behind Dan, Duke’s body slung over his shoulder.
“How do we get out of this?” I ask anxiously.
“Take this. It’s Duke’s sword.” He hands me the light saber.
“I’m not really qualified for this,” I reply.
“You’ll have to learn, kid,” he says.
I grimace. No one’s called me kid in twenty years.
“I’ll grab our cargo. Huey’s going to hotwire the ship. You need to help Princess Layla,” Dan orders me.
“You mean fight someone?” I ask skeptically.
“Push that button and swing it.” He motions to the button at the bottom of the laser sword. “We can’t leave without her.”
“I’ve never fought anyone.”
“Just aim for their arms or legs!”
Before I can object again, he darts past me to a new set of boxes that weren’t there before, heading in the direction of the unicorn.
I lower the sword.
Princess Layla gives a cry of pain, and I peek around the boxes to see how the fight is going.
Not good. At all. She’s climbing to her feet slowly after being knocked to the ground by the guy in red. I should help her but … really?
I study the light saber briefly.
It’s not like attacking fictional characters is illegal.
“Here we go.” I push the button. The sword blazes to life. With no confidence whatsoever, I walk up to the men in black.
I hold the sword like a baseball bat, decide that won’t work, shift my stance, practice swinging and then lower it. Who am I kidding? I have no idea what I’m doing.
With a deep breath, I march up to the first minion and smack his arm with the sword.
“Sorry, sorry!” I wince.
He drops like a cardboard cutout and doesn’t get up.
“Hmm. Okay.” I smack the second one.
He drops, too.
This is easier than I thought. No one is resisting me. I’m not even hitting them that hard. I’m not hurting anyone.
I can do this.
I smack the next one and the next and the next. Encouraged, I whirl dramatically and leap in front of another, pretending to be one of the heroes I used to watch in movies.
“This is pretty awesome!” I exclaim. I knock four more down and then look around.
The hairs along the back of my neck stand on end. I’ve never experienced a moment of pure instinct in my life – until now. I don’t know why, but I duck and throw myself to the ground.
Dark Invader’s black sword sails over my head. Startled, I stay down.
Princess Layla is on the ground a few feet away. She’s struggling to stand.
The red guy is standing between us, waiting to see who gets up first.
That was strangely close. My heart is racing, as if some part of me knows I almost lost my head.
I pick up my sword. The movement draws the attention of the red guy. After beating up all his men, I’m not at all concerned about him. One chop and he’s gone.
I stand up and raise my sword to whack him. I make an attempt. Unlike the others, he blocks. He smashes his laser sword towards me. Instinct again makes me raise my weapon, but nothing can prepare me for the jarring blow he delivers. It’s hard enough to snap my wrist at an unnatural angle. The sword sails away, and I stare at Dark Invader.
“Ow. What the hell?” I ask under my breath.
Why didn’t he go down like his cardboard minions?
I’m not sure what to do. My wrist stings, and I hold it, unsettled by the intense sensation when I’m supposed to be in a dream.
Behind him, across the bay, Dan has already led the unicorn up the ramp into the smaller spaceship and is standing at the bottom, waving for us to join him.
“Hey, uh, Layla. You ready to go?” I call.
She nods and stands.
The red guy is waiting to see what we do.
I’m out of ideas.
“Run!” Layla shouts and then bolts forward.
“That’s it?” I shout back. I’m a full second behind her. She makes it past Dark Invader, who doesn’t even try to stop her.
Because he’s headed towards me. His sword snaps out in front of me, and I stop quickly. It radiates heat. I step back. I don’t think it’ll hurt me, but I’m not so sure. My wrist definitely stings.
“Layla!” I call.
She makes it to the ramp and looks back at me, distressed.
“We’ll come back for you!” Dan shouts. He tugs her up the ramp.
My eyebrows shoot up. He’s not serious, right?
The ramp closes. The ship’s engine roars to life.
They’re going to leave me here.
I start forward, but the red guy waves his sword in warning.
The ship whirls in the cargo bay and blasts a hole in the side of the ship. I can see the doors of the space cruiser’s bay opening, leading to space. In disbelief, I stand here stupidly while my new friends abandon me.
“I hope a space smaug eats you,” I mutter. My attention goes to the red guy.
His men surround me, and I have no magic sword to knock them over with.
“Take her away,” Dark Invader orders.
Two of the men in black take my arms and lead me away. Their grips are too tight.
“Wait. That’s not how this is supposed to go!” I say, starting to freak out. “I’m supposed to be saved last minute or something!”
“No one’s coming to save you,” says the red guy.
I wrack my brain to recall how this scene went in my story. I don’t remember anyone being captured ever. Is my presence changing the narrative? Is the story running away with itself?
The men in black take me away to a plain, stark cell with a metal bench that runs along one wall and bathroom. There are no bars, just metal walls. They leave me and deadbolt the door.
“Now, it’s time to wake up.” I sit on the hard bench, close my eyes, and wait.
This must be the longest coma ever, because I don’t wake up. I sit on the stupid bench for some time before lying down. The metal is hard and cold beneath me.
“I’m too old for this shit,” I mutter and struggle to get comfortable. It’s useless. I sit up again and sigh.
My stomach rumbles, a reminder I haven’t eaten since starting this weird adventure. Should I be hungry in a coma?
Every once in a while, I start to think this isn’t a dream after all.
That thought scares me, so I push it away.
After a short period of time, the door slides open. A man in black en
ters carrying a tray of food and water. He sets it down on the bench beside me.
“Hey, how long will I be here?” I ask.
He ignores me and leaves.
I look down at the food. Two donuts and a pile of bacon, complemented by a juice box. My favorite breakfast as a kid. It’s not the healthiest, but it’s something. I eat everything and sip my juice box, head resting against the back of the cell while I wait.
I pace, I mumble, I wait to wake up. Time passes slowly in the confined space with nowhere comfortable to sit or lie down. I’m starting to get truly pissy when the door slides open again.
Three armed guards enter. A fourth stands at the doorway and motions for me to exit. Anywhere is better than the boring cell.
He leads me through long hallways and small common areas, all of which are traversed by men in black and occasionally, men in silver. Everyone wears a mask, and no one speaks to anyone. It’s the un-friendliest place I’ve ever been.
He waits at a large door for entry. We’re buzzed in or whatever, and the armed guards lead me into what looks like a command center. A sobbing couple is dragged out, past me, too weak and upset to stand on their own.
Their pain is real enough that it touches me on a level I don’t expect to feel in a dream.
Unnerved by my surroundings, and the instinct whispering this isn’t as unreal as I want it to be, I nonetheless wait to see what happens next.
The man in red is standing in front of a window. My guards lead me towards him.
“If you don’t tell me where the unicorns are, I will blow up your planet,” Dark Invader tells me in his weird, threatening fan voice.
I blink, uncertain I heard him right.
He stands aside, so I can see the planet he’s talking about. Earth doesn’t glow red like that. More importantly, why is he blowing up anyone’s planet anyway?
“I have no idea,” I reply.
He crowds into my personal space. Annoyed, I’m also distinctly aware of his body heat. I don’t notice that about any of the minions in black. He’s over six feet tall, and his uniform and cape exaggerate his size.
“You will tell me, or everyone on that planet dies,” he tells me.
Are there even people on that planet?
Does it matter? It’s not like any of this is real.
“Even if I did know, I probably wouldn’t tell you,” I respond like a true heroine.
He grips my neck and squeezes. Pain flutters through me. He was able to beat me with swords, and he nearly killed Princess Layla.
The fear and pain swirling within me are real.
This isn’t a dream. It could be a psychotic break, but …
“Ow,” I mutter as he squeezes tighter. “Look, dude, I have no idea where they’re taking the unicorn or why. I just met these people.”
He tilts his head. A second later, he drops his hand. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He turns away with a dramatic swirl of his cape. “Destroy her planet!” he orders a minion.
“Wait!” I exclaim. “I don’t have the information you need. Why would you destroy the planet?”
“To teach others a lesson.”
“What lesson?” My mind may be in denial, but my body is freaking out. My pulse flutters madly, and I’m feeling sick to my stomach. It’s not the donuts disrupting my digestive system. “What is even going on? How did I get here? Where is here?” A hysterical note enters my voice.
“This was supposed to be my greatest moment.” He sighs again, this time in irritation. “Must you ruin everything I’ve worked for?”
“I know how this should go, and this isn’t it. This isn’t right at all. That’s not even my planet,” I say and point at it. “I’ve never seen it before.”
He tilts his head again. “How can you be telling the truth?” he demands. “This must be your planet.”
“Why would you ever think that?”
“This is where all Power Users come from.”
“You got the wrong person.”
“You defeated twelve of my soldiers with ease. Only a Power User can do that,” he insists. “They called you an Elf. You wear a Power User’s ring.”
“I’m not wearing …” I lift my hand to show him and frown. I’m wearing a mood ring on the middle finger of my right hand, one of those cheap, resizable ones made of plastic and painted silver to resemble metal, which you can buy at a fair for two dollars. The stone is currently black. “That’s still not my planet.”
The guy in red squeezes his fists. He’s getting pissed at me. “Take her to the dungeon!”
If ever there was a time for a daring escape, it’s now. I wait until the door opens leading out of the command center and into the hallway. Then I shove the minion closest to me. To my relief, he falls down and stays down. I grab his space laser gun and hold it up, waving it around. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I definitely don’t want to stick around here.
The men in black move away.
Backing away, towards the open door, I glance down once then twice at the weapon. I have no idea how to work this thing. There’s no trigger or button that I can see.
“Nobody follow me!” I shout, turn and run.
It’s then I realize I have no idea where I’m going, either. Someone will come along and help me, right? That’s what always happens in books and movies.
I race down the hallway and around a corner before slowing. Running isn’t my favorite activity. I want to think I can blend in if I walk instead of run, but I’m the only person in this place not wearing a black suit of plastic armor and mask. I’m in jellies and … a Strawberry Shortcake t-shirt and sweat pant cutoffs?
I don’t remember changing clothes. I haven’t shaved my legs in a few days, either.
The sounds of pursuit jar my attention away from my attire. I alternate between walking and jogging, darting down corridors that lead to more corridors that lead to even more corridors. I have no idea how big this place is, or how I’m going to escape. I pass a window and stop. Backing up, I consider the expanse of space outside the space cruiser.
If Duke Skyscraper could walk outside without a suit and fight off bad guys, I can escape into space and run to a planet or something. Or maybe someone will rescue me once I’m outside the ship.
I examine the laser gun closely until I find a small button. I aim at the window and press the button. A red laser pulses out of the gun and hits the window. At first, the glass resists the heat. It buckles as I hold the button down and then explodes.
An instant vortex sucks the glass out the window, the gun – and then me. Panicking, I helplessly grope for anything to keep from being sucked into space. My lungs feel as if the air is being ripped out of them. My t-shirt catches on a jagged piece of the window. I desperately try to grab at the windowsill. The vacuum is too strong; I can barely lift my arms.
The shirt rips, and I open my mouth in a wordless scream.
My shirt hitches on something else. Flapping like a rag, I can’t move enough to see what. Seconds later, I’m hauled into the hallway. An invisible seal slides over the window, and I drop.
I gasp in air, horrified.
This is real. This is real. This is real, my brain chants.
“Do you have a … death wish?” a male voice demands, breathless from the same forces that sucked the air from my lungs.
“I thought there was … air in space.” I didn’t write this scene when I was nine. That much I know. I moved when I was nine. It’s likely I didn’t pick up the story again until I was ten and knew more about space.
Dark Invader hauls me up. The man in red’s uniform is in disarray, and his mask is gone, sucked into space.
My breath catches in my throat when I see his face. “Jared?” I squeak.
He glares at me. “Take her to the dungeon.” He shoves me to the men in black.
“We had coffee. Don’t you remember?” I ask, twisting to see him.
“I’ve never laid
eyes on you before the planet,” he snaps. There’s no recognition whatsoever in his gorgeous eyes. He’s telling the truth.
Cold fear streaks through me. It’s no coincidence Jared showed up in my life right before I was sucked into this place. But why doesn’t he remember me?
As the men in black lead me away, I think hard about my conversation with Jared. He’d asked me about many things, among them, a character I’d featured in several of my books, one I didn’t remember at all. The idea he came from a book, or was self-aware at all, is laughable.
He can’t be fiction and exist in the real world.
I can’t be real and exist in the fictional world, either.
Dark Invader, a space knight of the Red Order, stood in the middle of the corridor, gazing at the window. To anyone observing him, he was surveying the damage. Space windows weren’t cheap and usually required him to dock at a planet to fix. No one would insure a cruiser this big, so he’d have to pay out of pocket for the new window. Getting a new window fitted would delay his quest. He had more pressing matters, such as taking over the galaxy.
So why was he still standing in the middle of the hallway, even after the footsteps of his guards faded away?
I know her. How?
He thought he’d recognized her the first time they met, in the cargo bay of the Centennial Eagle. He’d met a lot of people, though, and she could have been anyone from anywhere.
On the bridge, the sense grew stronger. She wasn’t a random face from his adventures. He generally ignored his workers and guards for the most part, because their duties were to obey. Why had her emotions appeared genuine, when he’d never noticed the emotions of his men and lieutenants? She was the only person in the room he truly noticed, and it wasn’t just because she was pretty.
The instinct that had left him feeling uneasy during their second encounter with her was harder to dismiss after rescuing her from space. In the midst of the emergency, when his adrenaline hit his system, he’d experienced panic unlike any he had ever experienced. Everyone on the spaceship could be sucked into space without him noticing or caring.
But not her. Never her.