by Zoe Chant
Relief rose in him. “So you are willing to let Petrichor attempt to drive out the demon?”
*Yes.* Moth looked down at Flash. *But I am concerned that the little one will interfere. With her power, we cannot stop her from teleporting into the middle of the fight. I cannot keep her trapped in dreams for much longer. Already she fights me, attempting to awaken.*
“I can’t sedate her again,” Candice said. “She’s too tiny, it wouldn’t be safe.”
*Then our only choice is to remove her.* Moth’s ears tilted at Candice. *You cared for her before. She seems to respect you, certainly more than she does me. Take her away from this place. Far enough that she will not sense what is occurring, and teleport back. You must keep her safe until the danger has passed.*
“Wait,” Wystan said. “Candice isn’t going anywhere.”
Candice bristled at him. “Candice can speak for herself, bud.”
Moth’s grey eyes met his. He had a sense of her telepathy narrowing, speaking into his mind alone. *She must go, for her own sake as well as Flash’s. She is only human. She has no powers. Do you want her to be nearby when we release the demon? The creature will sense her weakness. She will be in danger.*
His heart lurched as he envisioned Candice facing off against a towering monstrosity. “Actually, Moth has a point, Candice. You can’t fight the demon alongside the rest of the squad. The best way for you to help is to make sure that Flash is safe.”
Candice hesitated, her mouth tightening. “You’re right. Flash has to be our first priority.” She threw an unpleasant look at Moth. “And I definitely don’t want to leave her here.”
He couldn’t help feeling a tiny glimmer of hope. They were working together again, side by side…he turned back to Moth. “Very well. We’ll take Flash to safety. One of my squad can come find us once the demon has been slain and it’s safe for us to return.”
*No,* Moth said swiftly, once more broadcasting to both of them. *The human must go alone. We will need you here, in case anyone is injured in the fight with the demon.*
He shook his head firmly. “I’m not leaving my mate. And I’m of more use helping her with Flash than I would be here. I may be descended from healers, but I don’t have any powers myself.”
*That is not true.* Moth sounded utterly certain. *Your talent is strong, stronger than any I have ever sensed. And it is even greater now than when we last spoke.*
His pulse spiked. He stared at her, hardly daring to breathe. “You can sense power in me?”
Candice’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?”
*I did not know that his talent was blocked.* Moth rippled her hide in an equine shrug. *It is a rare thing, but not unheard of. The most powerful of our kind are sometimes the last to fully bloom. Occasionally they require assistance to release their potential.*
“What sort of assistance?” Wystan took an eager step forward. “Can you help me?”
*I can.* Moth turned her head, pointing with her horn. *I will allow you into our heartland, our most sacred grove. There, you will find your destiny.*
“Wystan.” Candice caught his sleeve. “I smell bullshit. Or unicorn shit. This is too convenient.”
He hesitated…but his half-remembered dream pulled at him. He’d felt so right, so powerful and strong…
“If there’s a chance that Moth can unlock my healing ability, I have to take it. Especially if she can do it before we fight the demon.” Almost, he confessed his deepest fear—that someone he loved would get hurt, and he’d be powerless to help—but he bit back the words. Candice didn’t need to be burdened with his weaknesses. “Go back to the squad and tell them the plan. Callum can fly you and Flash back to where we left the cars. You’ll have to drive fast so that you’re well away from here before Flash wakes up.”
Candice shook her head stubbornly. “Don’t stay here alone. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t trust this bedazzled cow any further than I could throw her.”
He put a hand on hers. “Moth has been honest with us, Candice. I know you find it difficult to trust anyone, but—“
“Oh, you did not just go there,” she breathed. She dropped his arm as though it had abruptly become red-hot. “Fine. Have it your way, since power is the only thing that matters to you. See if I care.”
“Candice,” he started, but she was already turning away. She scooped up Flash, cradling the little unicorn. Her face was pale with anger, scars standing out vividly. Without looking back, she strode away.
Go! His unicorn reared in his mind. Go to our mate!
He shook his head, pushing his unicorn back down. This was one of the times cold human logic had to override animal instinct. Better for Candice to be safely away and angry at him than to run after her now. He’d fix things with her later.
He turned back to Moth. “Show me what I have to do.”
He’d never imagined anything like the unicorn homeland.
The sense of peace he’d felt at the edge of the forest was nothing compared to the deep tranquility that fell over him as he followed Moth deeper into the forest. Plants grew in wild abundance, untouched by human hands and yet exquisitely in harmony with each other as though every leaf had been planned by generations of gardeners.
It was like walking through Eden, the morning after the world was made. Birds sang in the trees, pouring out pure joy. Squirrels came out to watch him go by, their bright button eyes curious and unafraid. At one point, he had to pause to let a glorious flame-red fox drift unhurriedly across his path on some mysterious errand of its own, trailing its tail like a knight’s banner. Everywhere he looked, there were wild creatures going about their lives. In this one place, it was as if humans had never existed.
I wish Candice could see this.
Her absence was an ache in his chest. He’d been able to tell when she left, the connection between them stretching painfully as she drove further away. The mate bond was still there—nothing could ever change that—but he couldn’t sense her thoughts anymore.
She is out of our reach. His unicorn paced in his soul, round and round, like a zoo animal trapped in a cage. She is too far away. We cannot protect her.
His shoulders twitched with his animal’s agitation. He forced his knotted muscles to relax. Candice didn’t need his protection. The Nightmare was safely contained, no threat to her or Flash. She would be perfectly safe without him.
“How long will this take?” he asked Moth. “The rest of the squad will grow concerned if I’m gone too long.”
*It will take as long as it takes.* Moth drifted between the trees like a ghost, never looking back. *And your companions have no choice but to wait. I could not allow them through our wards even if I wished to. Come. This way.*
The forest grew darker, older, as she led him onward. Ancient trees blocked out the sun, their branches gnarled like old men. The birds grew scarcer, songs dying away, until they were walking through cathedral-like hush. Deep, crisscrossed layers of fallen twigs crunched under his boots like tiny bones. A feeling he couldn’t quite name prickled the back of his neck. He found himself walking closer to Moth, every sense on high alert.
“Where is the rest of your herd?” His voice sounded too loud, too human, unnatural in the eerie silence. “I haven’t seen any other unicorns.”
*This is a sacred place.* She paced on, her hooves making no sound on the dry, brittle leaf-litter. *They do not come here. I have forbidden it. I have not allowed any to set hoof here for years, save…* She hesitated for a moment. *Save for Sunrise. I brought her to the heartland when I chose her as my successor. I wish that I had not.*
A dead tree caught his eye, the first thing he’d seen in the entire forest that wasn’t lush and thriving. As he followed Moth deeper into the forest, he noticed more dry, leafless snags, skeletons amidst the living trees.
“What’s happened here?” he asked Moth. “Some kind of disease?”
*A sickness,* she replied. A deep abyss of grief
lay under her mental words. *One even our magic cannot fight.*
He touched one desiccated trunk as they passed. Though the bark was dry, it felt oddly repulsive, like putting his hand into moldy garbage. It made his unicorn shy away, ears flattening.
“This is why Sunrise wanted to leave, isn’t it.” He pulled his hand away again, restraining a shudder. “Is it spreading?”
*It was. But I have contained it. Sunrise was wrong.* Moth halted. *We are here.*
A circle of trees ringed a small glade. Every single one was dead, bark peeling away to reveal bleached wood pale as bone. Brown husks that must once have been verdant wildflowers lay flat against bare, powdery earth.
His skin crawled. He stepped past Moth, drawn out by horrified fascination. Dust puffed up under his boots. The ground was cracked and crazed, as though rain hadn’t fallen here for decades.
At the very center of the clearing, a wider chasm yawned—a deep, black split big enough to swallow a man.
“Here?” He stopped on the edge of that gaping mouth. He looked down into the abyss, and a vertiginous sense of wrongness made his head swim. He retreated hastily, turning back to Moth. “But this is—“
Moth’s blazing horn struck his forehead like lightning, and blackness claimed him.
Chapter 32
“Stupid idiot,” Candice muttered, hands clenching on the steering wheel hard enough to turn her knuckles white. She took the twisting mountain bends at unwise speed, as much through rage as necessity. “Arrogant overgrown ass! Serve him right if, if he walks right into that evil mare’s trap. Whatever it is.”
She knew Moth had to be planning something. She just couldn’t work out what. Why had Moth suddenly taken such an interest in Wystan’s theoretical powers? Had the lead mare somehow known that was the one bait he couldn’t resist? What could she possibly hope to gain by luring him into the unicorn lands?
It didn’t make any sense.
Maybe she wants exactly what she said, she thought bleakly. Maybe it’s just that healers are rare, and she wants to help him so that he’ll be able to help the herd in return. Maybe I am being paranoid.
Flash stirred on the passenger seat next to her. The baby unicorn made a small, questioning sound, lifting her head to peer around groggily.
“Hey, baby.” Worried that Flash might try to teleport away, Candice pulled over to the side of the road, cutting the engine. She could only hope that they were already far enough away from the unicorns’ territory. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
A little fire burst of purple sparks swirled in her mind’s eye. She had the impression Flash was happy to see her, but confused as well. The little unicorn climbed shakily to her hooves, peering out through the windscreen. She made a startled, flute-like squeak.
“Yeah, I know. It’s not your home.” Candice stroked Flash’s mane, trying to broadcast reassurance to her. “I have to take you away for a little bit. Your daddy’s going to make your mom better, I promise. But they need to be private and alone for a while. Moth asked me to look after you.”
Flash’s ears flattened at the sound of Moth’s name. She turned her head as though searching for something. Candice received a clear mental picture of a towering, gleaming shape…
Her heart tightened. “No, Wystan’s not here. He’s…busy. Moth needs his help to heal your mom.”
Flash shifted uneasily, her ears clamping down even further. The flurry of images she sent were very definitely referring to Moth, and not at all flattering to the lead mare.
“Yeah, I don’t trust her either.” Candice bit her lip. “But you know, Wystan can take care of himself. He’s three times Moth’s size, after all. Even if she called in the whole herd, he could kick the entire pack of them into next week. He’ll be fine.”
Flash treated her to a deeply dubious look.
“Hey. He’s a grown-ass man. And a giant magic stallion. He’s big and strong and…” Candice trailed off. “And he needs me.”
Flash nickered, bobbing her head in enthusiastic assent.
“You’re right.” Candice threw the Jeep into reverse. “We’re going back.”
She did a tricky three-point turn on the narrow road. The anxious tightness in her chest eased as she gunned the Jeep back up the mountain. Even though she was still mad at Wystan, he needed her.
She wasn’t going to abandon her mate.
Flash’s ears pricked up. She whinnied, high and urgent.
“You’re worried too, aren’t you?” Somehow, she knew Wystan was in trouble, with bone-deep certainty. Candice glanced at Flash, taking her attention off the road just long enough to give the unicorn a reassuring pat. “It’s okay, baby. Just hang on. This is going to get bumpy.”
She looked back through the windscreen—and slammed on the brake.
Because the Nightmare was standing in the middle of the road.
Chapter 33
*Do we have a bargain?*
The sharp telepathic voice cut through his confused, fog-filled dreams. A vast grey weight pressed down on his mind, trying to keep him still, but he fought against it. The faint sense of Moth’s presence was a tenuous mental link to the outside world. He clung to it in the darkness, struggling towards consciousness as if hauling himself hand-over-hand up a rope.
*These two, and no more,* Moth continued, talking to someone he couldn’t sense. *This shall be the end of it, understand? I will not give you more!*
Wystan’s eyelids felt as if they had rusted shut. Slowly, painfully, he managed to drag them open, and found himself staring at a pale shape. Not Moth.
“Petrichor,” he said, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. His head pounded as though Moth had struck him with a sledgehammer rather than her horn. “Is that you?”
The stallion whinnied in miserable assent. Twisting branches caged him, twining so closely around his flanks and neck that the unicorn couldn’t move an inch.
His own arms were wrenched up and behind at a painful angle. Wystan tried to turn his head, and discovered that branches wrapped around him as well. Bark pressed against his back and chest.
“What…?” Living wood creaked as he tried to move his limbs. It was as if he’d been unconscious for years, turned to stone as saplings sprang up and grew around him. “Petrichor, what is this? It can’t be Moth’s magic.”
Petrichor shook his head, as much as his cage allowed. He sent Wystan a mental image of a mare with her horn alight, plants writhing and growing at impossible speed under her direction. Wystan recognized the unicorn—the brown-eyed one who’d seemed to speak up angrily against Moth, in defense of Sunrise. In Petrichor’s vision, the mare seemed to be sleep-walking, glassy-eyed and stumbling. Moth stood next to her, horn touching her flank as though goading her on.
“I see. Moth can hypnotize the others, and make them use their powers as she directs.” Candice was right. I shouldn’t have trusted her. “Do you know what she wants with us?”
The whites showed around the edges of Petrichor’s pale grey eyes. He didn’t answer, instead going back to struggling against the twining tree trunks binding his legs. Cruel stripes across his white coat showed how hard he’d been throwing himself against his prison, but the saplings held firm.
Deep in his soul, Wystan’s own unicorn raged, desperate to break free. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. If he tried to shift, he’d tear himself apart.
At least Candice is safe. It might have played right into Moth’s hooves, but he couldn’t regret sending her away. He only hoped that she hadn’t sensed his own peril down the mate bond. Or if she had, that she was angry enough to ignore it.
Don’t come back, he silently begged her. If she did, she’d fall straight into Moth’s trap as well. The rest of the squad couldn’t cross the barrier surrounding the unicorn lands. She’d be alone and unsupported.
Don’t come back, Candice. Stay away. Live.
It didn’t matter what happened to him, as long as his mate was safe.
“Moth!” W
ystan called. Twisting his head as far as he could, he just managed to catch sight of the lead mare’s silver form. She was facing away from them, apparently talking to someone hidden from his view. “Moth, whatever you are planning, please rethink. I am not your enemy. I only want to help you.”
*I know.* Moth’s mental voice was heavy with regret. She turned, revealing a glimpse of that strange, blackened clearing with its ominous crack. *For what it is worth, I am sorry. But this is the only way.*
Wystan kept his voice very calm and soothing, though his heart hammered against his ribs. “The only way to do what?”
*To keep my herd safe.* Moth took a few paces back. *If it comforts you, know that your sacrifice will protect other innocent lives. You are a great prize. They promised that if I gave you to them, they would be satisfied at last. They will retreat, leaving us in peace once more.*
Wystan stared past Moth at that gaping, bottomless cleft in the earth. Ice ran down his spine. “Who, Moth? Who will leave you alone?”
Moth’s head dropped low. The light from her horn faded to nothing.
Her voice whispered in his mind, low and ashamed. *The demons.*
The ground beyond her heaved. A new crack splintered off from the first, zig-zagging across the clearing. The very earth seemed to draw back in revulsion as a blunt-nosed, serpentine head thrust into the air. Soil sloughed from curving black horns.
*I am sorry,* Moth said again. *I tried everything, when the corruption first appeared. But I could not stop them from rising. I could only strike a bargain.*
Tree branches bit into his wrists. “Moth. Moth, no. I don’t know much about these creatures, but I do know that they are evil. You cannot trust them.”
*I gave them Sunrise, and they left the rest of us alone.* Moth backed away as the snake-like creature fought its way out of the ground. *They will do the same again. Your sacrifice will keep my herd safe.*