Not like you’d miss many things, dull or otherwise, that rammed through your middle.
“I decided saving your life was top priority,” he said in a matter-of-fact sort of way.
“Thanks,” I muttered, a little embarrassed. This was unfamiliar territory.
A soft rustling caught my attention as we wandered through a patch of dense trees. A colt—or whatever unicorns called their young—peeked its head through a leafy bush, its horn nothing more than a tiny nub. As I walked, it wobbled out, its legs shaky.
“Holy smokes, stop the presses.” I halted and felt a silly smile crawl across my face. At half my height, it was not little by any means, but the critter still seemed brand new. “Look how cute!”
Before I knew what I was doing, I had walked toward it with my hand out. “Hello!”
It wobbled toward me, its legs bending awkwardly and threatening to give out.
“No! Don’t!” Darius shouted.
Before his blur of movement could intercept, the colt’s nose rubbed against my palm and then fell toward my body. I wrapped my arms around its neck and laughed with glee. The memory of the blood wasn’t controlling me, though—I was just enjoying some cuddle time with a seriously cute animal.
“How adorable is this?” I laughed again and backed off. “But where is your mama, little baby?”
“You should be dead. It is forbidden to touch their young.” Darius stalked toward the bush. He paused for a moment, and then said, “Come here, Reagan.”
The way he said it, deep and vicious, raised the small hairs on the back of my neck. I gently pushed the baby, who was trying to nuzzle my stomach, and joined him. As I peered over the hedge, a blast of anger rose up through me.
A unicorn stood in mid-stride, frozen in space. The residual items of birth trailed along the ground from the animal’s glistening backside. It looked as though it had birthed its baby, walked a few feet, and then gotten snared in a spell.
“And now we know how the unicorn was bled dry,” I said, reaching for my sword. My hand grasped emptiness. “Crap.”
“Can you break the magic without your sword?”
Not without revealing what I was. “Keep that little baby away.”
“We are forbidden to touch them.”
“I might not be able to get Mama free. How many do you want to lose to this magical trap, one or two?”
I barely heard his soft growl of annoyance before he took up space between the colt and me. “Get away, small creature. Do not touch me.”
“That’s…one way to do it.” I closed my eyes, once again feeling the vibrations of the magical currents. They didn’t reach out for my touch, and certainly didn’t swirl around my fingers. Instead, they kind of buzzed right where they were.
I stepped back and looked at the sky. “It seems like a simple enough freezing spell. I’ve seen these used on people, though with much less power. The thing is…” I cranked my neck, wishing I had my sword. “The way it was done, I am positive this is the same guy who cast the other spell. It has less power, though. Significantly.”
“Did he not mask the power of the other?”
“He wasn’t masking the power so much as the type of spell. It was harder to break through than I was expecting.” I analyzed it further, wanting to be as sure as I could. “He clearly laid this spell like a snare, waiting for something to walk into it. But I have no way of seeing if there’s a defensive situation disguised in it.”
“There isn’t. No, little creature, I am not to be touched! Begone, silly thing.” He flinched away from its seeking nose. It stomped the ground with its foot, then wobbled toward him. He contorted his body so its seeking nose couldn’t touch his hip, then his waist. He looked like he was playing Twister standing upright. Finally, he sighed in exasperation when it nuzzled his stomach, and then dropped his hands to his sides, relenting. “Any defense woven into a freezing spell would result in the trapped victim dying. If she died, her blood would quickly turn black and unusable, like ours does. Can you get her out? I have something that might help, but if he used even a fraction of the power he used in his other trap, my spell won’t be enough.”
I waggled my fingers in the air and bit my lip, thinking. In short, yes, I could. And I should, because this was a life-for-a-life situation. Without a powerful mage or me, this unicorn, and probably the little baby that needed its mother’s milk, was as good as dead.
I owed them this. The problem was that I might end up giving my life as payment for their help.
Chapter Ten
“What’s this help you have?” I asked with a sigh.
He pulled back the flap on his satchel and peered inside. Instead of digging around like I would’ve, he reached in and plucked out the item. He stepped through the bush, followed by the colt, and handed over a small, light green orb.
“Keep that colt away from the spell,” I hollered with a shock of fear.
He shepherded the creature away.
“Okay, then,” I said, holding the spell between my finger and thumb to analyze it. “Very disco. Why is it green?”
“We have our mages color-code the spells so we can easily identify their properties.”
“Organized.” I didn’t need that, of course. I could feel the spell’s properties. Also, I rarely had the luxury of too many spells in my possession. Still, I loved the idea. “Can you get some with sparkles?”
He leveled me with a glare. No, then?
“Not a big push of power in here.” I rolled it behind my fingers as I eyed the spell. There was nothing for it—without the sword to act as a medium for my power, I’d have to apply it directly. I would basically be handing Darius the key to figuring me out.
The unicorns were putting me in a tight spot.
“Look, Darius, I’m going to need you to look away.”
“No.”
“I’m not asking. If you want my help, then you need to let me do this. I can’t work with your eyeballs scratching at the back of my head.”
“If you succumb to the magic—”
“That’ll be immediate without a sword. I’m about to wrestle directly with it, spell to spell. If I lose, there is no coming back. So…off you get.”
He took a deep breath, staring at me. It was a reaction I hadn’t seen yet. I had no idea what it meant.
Slowly, he shook his head before eyeing the unicorn. “Okay.”
“Lovely. Go play in the meadow with little Max.”
“This is a female.”
“Little Lucy, then.”
I studied the spell around the unicorn and pinched the casing between my pointer finger and thumb. “Do I throw this, or gently let it go about its business?” I called.
“Use it like a normal spell casing.”
Impossible. This one actually had a spell in it.
After a glance behind me to make sure he wasn’t in eyesight, I dropped the casing into my pouch and rubbed my hands together. Time for real magic.
Palm aimed toward the unicorn, I swept my hand through the air. Fire sprang up, outlining the spell. I stepped back and created a thin wall of fire in front of me in case something went wrong and the spell exploded.
Focusing now, I felt the spell with my fire, managing the heat and intensity until it was happily eating away the magic like fuel. Not sensing any changes in the spell’s properties, I amped up the flame, burning away the magic.
“It is working?” Darius asked.
I jumped and ripped the wall of fire away. A glance behind said Darius had kept his word—so far, anyway—and wasn’t peeking through the hedge.
I let out a haggard breath and clutched at my rampaging heart.
“Yes, it’s really helping. Thanks.” After another glance behind, I quickly threw up a veil of fire and refocused on my task at hand.
I pushed the fire down toward the ground, where the spell wasn’t properly rooted, eating away the fringe. The air around the unicorn pulsed with color and light, making me smile, before it changed. Like a piece of paper consumed by flame, the spell oxidized before blackening and flaking away. The last traces of it sputtered before losing the fight and unraveling. Cold air gushed outward, ruffling the leaves and smacking harmlessly into my wall of fire.