Mal nodded.
“Kietel is calling for the Orators Office to surrender power to him within a fortnight. He called my father by name.”
“Your Father has the entire Magical Militia at his command. Not just the British. He isn’t threatened.”
“I know,” said Maeve. “Still, I worry.”
“He worries about sending you back to school.”
Maeve looked over at him. “Oh?”
“It’s to be expected.”
They rode in silence for a moment. The sounds of the North Sea slamming against the cliffside and the horses’ hoofs against the grass were the only sounds.
“I had that feeling again,” said Maeve quietly.
“It’s been weeks since you felt that,” he said.
Maeve nodded. “But I felt it last night. Late. It woke me up.”
“Anything different?”
“It felt. . .close. And then suddenly very far. It was like cold slime trailing down my back, moving farther away with each inch.”
“Have you told your father?”
“Merlin no. I know he doesn’t want me going back to Vaukore right now and I’m not about to give him a greater reason to lock me in that house.”
They reached the tree line of the woodlands at twilight. Sinclair Estates was far behind them. Mal raised a brow at Maeve, and she nodded him along and took the lead. They moved into the forest slowly and quietly.
“It’s the perfect time of year to see them now, as it’s getting a little cooler,” said Maeve in a hushed voice.
“You still haven’t told me what we’re seeing.”
“That would ruin the surprise.”
They had not traveled far into the forest when Maeve grabbed Mal’s arm, silently pointing ahead of them.
He followed her gaze in between two trees. There, in the opening, was a bright white and gleaming unicorn. Its silvery hair was silky, and its horn was long with a pale peach color.
Maeve was delighted with Mal’s amazed expression.
“Do they ever leave this forest?” Asked Mal.
“Not usually,” said Maeve. “But father’s Aunt told him there was one who she gained the trust of and that she would come close to the house and eat out of her hand.”
They watched as a second, smaller unicorn joined the first.
“They travel in families,” she whispered. “Father says their blood is incredibly powerful,” said Maeve.
“Drinking it prolongs life,” stated Mal.
“Not just that,” replied Maeve. “When Father was a child, my Grandfather Alyicious slaid a unicorn with the sole purpose of curing Father of a nasty case of Black Cat Flu.”
“He gave him unicorn blood?”
Maeve nodded. “Grandmother says it worked. She said she’d heard many stories of the Sinclair’s using unicorn blood to live longer lives. Though, it’s considered a heinous act to kill something so pure, an act of dark magic to corrupt something so beautiful, especially when there are so few left. Not that any of that stopped my ancestors from hunting all kinds of magical beasts. But these were brought to Earth by the Sinclair’s that fled the Dread Lands three hundred years ago.”
