Of course. He wasn’t here to kill the unicorn. And he’d been the one to shoot the arrow. He did want her dead. This hunt had been his best chance.
Where was Gitta? Where were the de Veyracs? Was she to die alone, surrounded by men and beasts sworn to protect her?
“Now, my dear cousin,” said Adolphe, leaning in so no one could see what he said. “We shall have no more disagreements between us.”
“You’re right,” Elise replied. “We shall not.” And she set the unicorn free.
Enyo knocked Adolphe onto his back and then, with a growl, plunged her horn into his chest. Adolphe’s expression went from triumph to despair. His skin turned purple, and he never breathed again.
She heard a rustle from the other men, and lifted her good hand. “Stay.” The Vicomte rose from his hiding place and seconded her command with a gesture to the other men. She appreciated his help, but she no longer needed it.
Elise struggled against the tree and felt the arrow break loose from the bark. She stood, bleeding, the shaft still embedded in her arm, and addressed the aristocrats in the bushes. “My friends,” she said. “Adolphe Dufosset tried to murder me here where I stood, and you men—all of you men, and armed—weren’t able to stop it. Since the death of my father, I’ve counted on you for protection. Today you have failed.” She cast her eyes about the clearing, but the only face she could see was the Vicomte’s. Not even Bernard had come forward. “I think I shall have no further need of you.”
“My dear,” the Vicomte said. “You’re injured. It’s a wonder you’re not overcome. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do, my lord,” said Elise. She swayed on her feet, and Enyo came to her side, standing against her until her legs stopped shaking. “I will not be getting married to your son today. Nor any day.”
Now Bernard stood. “Elise! Think of what you are doing!”
Elise ignored him.
“It isn’t your choice,” said the Vicomte. “I have a contract.”
“I have a unicorn,” said Elise.
“You have more than that.” Gitta stepped out of the woods. At her back were a half dozen creatures out of legend. These were not small, goat-like unicorns as Enyo was, but tall, majestic horned monsters, their bearing as elegant as stags, their coats shining whiter than chalk. Their eyes were black as they looked upon the men in the clearing, and Elise felt murder in each of their hearts.
Gitta smiled and shrugged. “You were right, Elise. There are many unicorns in this wood. But they are very hard to call.”
The men cowered now as the unicorns fanned out to surround Gitta and Elise.
“I seem to have missed something quite grand,” Gitta whispered to the younger girl.
Only Gitta would see a man’s corpse and think that. Elise forced a smile through the pain. She raised her voice again. “I have made a decision. I am the lady of these lands. My house, my woods—you may remain at my pleasure, or leave on my command.”
The Vicomte stepped forward. “Elise,” he said gently. “Your father—”
“My father did not know what power I wield.” Gitta was now supporting her weight, but still Elise stood on her feet and spoke to the men. “My father did not know that I could protect myself.”
The unicorns, as one, turned their heads toward the Vicomte. Their horns stood out like swords.
“I think you should get used to seeing these animals on my lands, my lord,” said Elise. “For they shall be here, watching, if you or any other try to collect me. I will protect my property by any means I must.”
Somehow she remained conscious until the last man left.
“I don’t know if I can leave you,” said Gitta, who sat sharpening her sword by firelight. Enyo relaxed on the hearth, her belly full of pork, a half-gnawed bone near her snout.
Elise checked her bandages. “I am healing well. And even the scar won’t be so bad.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Gitta came over and sat by Elise’s side. “How do you know your own power will be enough to keep the unicorns around once I am gone? How do I know that the Vicomte won’t bring an army to your door as soon as I cross the border?”
Elise shrugged. “If he does, then I will meet him. I can hire men as well as he can. And even the threat of unicorns is a deterrent. I will watch over myself from now on.”
“I would have been there, if I could—,” Gitta began, for the fourteenth time.
And for the fourteenth time, Elise shut her down. “It is not your fault. I didn’t realize how desperate Adolphe had become. And besides, when you did come, you brought me something even better than your protection. The means by which I can create my own.”
Elise glanced out the window, where she could still see the unicorns in her garden. There were more and more every day now. They came, as if awakened from some deep hibernation in the wilderness, and clustered on her lands. Let the Vicomte bring an army. She was ready.
Beside her, Gitta was silent, staring down at her roughened hands. At last she spoke. “I don’t know if I can leave you,” she said again. “I don’t know if I want to.”
“You don’t have to.” Elise smiled in relief. “You can leave the Order. Stay here with me, where Enyo will be able to live out her days in peace. Stay here with me, where there are real, wild unicorns. Stay here and teach me all the magic I never got the chance to learn.”
Gitta looked away at the fire and said nothing. Elise peeked into Enyo’s mind, and her heart sank. She saw mountain trails and endless vistas. She saw deserts and islands and dusty plains. The unicorn dreamed of travel, just like its mistress. For a moment, Elise pictured the three of them, together in those exotic places, but it would never be. Gitta would move on, and Elise would stay here, where she’d made a promise to her people.
Elise felt her friend’s rough skin against her soft palm. “I don’t think you need my magic,” said Gitta. “You don’t need anyone. Your own magic is stronger than you think.”
The Spirit Jar
BY KAREN MAHONEY
What do you get when you put a vampire in an airplane thousands of miles above the Atlantic?
I swallow hard and try not to think about the punch line to that particular joke. It’s bad enough that Theo is sending me overseas in the first place, but now I’m feeling sick— airsick? How would I know, I’ve not flown since I was a small child—and my brain is sadistically torturing me with every scenario that could possibly go wrong.
There are a lot of things that could go wrong.
At least, that’s what my new roommate cheerfully told me while dropping me at the airport for my Boston to London trip.
I push aside comforting fantasies of Holly crashing her stupid motorcycle on the way back to our apartment, and decide that I may as well settle in for the flight and watch a movie. Yeah, because a movie will take my mind off the fact that we’re flying over water and I’m a freaking vampire.
Crossing running water should be impossible for vampires. This is just one of the many so-called “facts” that proved to be pure myth after I was turned a decade ago. I push up the white plastic blind and look out the window, but the ocean is hidden by puffy purple clouds. Surely you can’t really count the sea as running water. Where is it supposed to “run” to, anyway? I’d crossed plenty of rivers in the last ten years, and nothing bad had ever happened. Whoever makes this crap up really needs to get a life.
Sighing heavily, I lean my forehead against the reinforced glass. I should be reviewing the details of my destination, or maybe ensuring I know exactly what the rare book I need to “retrieve”—an ancient Arabic text—actually looks like. Instead, all I can think about is the fact that I’m flying through the air in a metal coffin.