The unicorn batted her eyes, trying to look cute and confused. Missed it by a mile.
“Did you open it?” Delaney asked. “This would be a really good time to tell me the truth.”
The unicorn ducked her head and pawed at the grass. “I did. I opened it.”
Bathin did that held-breath reaction again.
The unicorn’s voice was quiet and small and apologetic. “It was…I didn’t mean it to happen like this. But I’ve heard so much about Ordinary. I thought if I got your attention, if I saved you from something…bad?” She shot a sideways look toward Bathin.
He rolled his eyes.
“If I saved you from the bad, evil, terrible, dangerous vortex to heck…”
Bathin choked on a laugh. She ignored him.
“…ifIsaved you from Hell,” she said, louder, “it would prove I should stay here. In Ordinary. Live here. Like all the other…unicorns.”
Bathin grunted. But his stance hadn’t changed. He was still a mountain, solid, strong. And he was standing with us, against the unicorn.
Didn’t that say something about him? About his loyalty? About his—
—heart—
—determination to stay here, no matter what he had to do to make that happen?
“There aren’t any other unicorns in Ordinary.” Delaney wasn’t buying the cute act for a minute.
“You wouldn’t…” long, sparkling eyelashes blinked, blinked, “make me leave would you? Look, oh, look. I can help…”
She trotted in a little circle, then pranced—that showy hop I’d seen fancy Italian horses pull off—over to the vortex, and pranced/hopped around it counter clockwise, ducking so her horn didn’t scrape one curve of the slide.
Because the day wasn’t weird enough, she also started singing. At first I thought it was a spell, but no. No, it was not.
“Doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown racetrack’s five miles long…”
“What does that—” I asked.
Bathin held up one hand. “Shh. I’m enjoying this.”
Delaney’s eyebrows lifted, and even Ryder looked like the stage show had broken the thrall of the free-apple-pie-to-Hell.
“…dah daaaaay!” Xtelle landed back in front of the vortex and tossed her head hard enough, her mane jingled like silvery bells.
I stared at the vortex, hoping it had changed. Hoping it had closed.
Nope. Puddle. Moonlight. Pie.
“And?” Delaney asked.
“And?” the unicorn asked.
“What was that for? The song and dance?”
“For your enjoyment? Did you not enjoy watching me frolic? Did you not enjoy my singing? I am a legend among my kind.”
Bathin coughed, and it sounded a lot like, “Bullshit.”
“A legend!” the unicorn went on, narrowing her kitten eyes into slits. “They call me Xtelle the Xtraordinary, and when I take the stage, every creature bows and sings my praises.”
