The steps belonged to hooves, not feet. The thundering rhythm had belonged to a gallop, not a run. And the creature that now reared up before Cora…
Maiya’s hand flew to her lips to cover her gasp. “Is that…”
Cora swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Another unicorn stood before them, but he was nothing like the emaciated brown one. This creature was enormous, muscular, his white coat splattered with mud. His russet eyes were wild as he bared his teeth.
They took a staggering step back, one that sent Maiya sprawling to the ground. Cora tried to dive for her friend, but the unicorn darted between them. He stomped his hooves, sidling toward her and shoving her back from Maiya.
A feeling slammed into her. With her shields still down, she had no defense against it. Desperation, rage, fear, struck her one after the other. She froze in place as the feelings grew, rippled, changed. Soon the sensation shifted into a sense of need, bearing a weight she’d never felt before when reading anyone’s emotions. The weight undulated, multiplied, divided. Cora could do nothing but feel it unfold inside her until it settled into something new.
A word.
A voice not heard but felt. Understood.
Help.
Cora’s eyes went wide. Never before had she experienced anything like this. Never had emotions become thoughts, become words. It felt strange, invasive, and utterly terrifying.
She looked to Maiya on the other side of the white unicorn. Her friend scrambled back on her forearms, struggling to stand. Cora’s eyes darted between the creature and Maiya. She dove to the side to skirt behind the unicorn, but he skittered back, blocking her.
Help, came the feeling-turned-to-word again.
“I don’t understand what you want from me,” she said between her teeth. She tried to outmaneuver him in the opposite direction, but it was no use.
He stomped his hooves, nearly connecting with Cora’s feet. She danced back to avoid having her toes crushed, but the unicorn pursued her, sending her backward again and again.
Cora’s fingers flew to the hilt of her dagger. She unsheathed it and brandished it before the creature. The unicorn tossed his mane, releasing a frantic whinny.
Help.
Help.
Help.
He stomped toward her again. Cora cast a glance over her shoulder in search of trip hazards, but her gaze settled on something else.
The caged unicorn.
The white beast was forcing her toward the cage.
She faced her pursuer. “You…want my help. As in…you want me to free the other unicorn?”
He tossed his mane again. Her heart raced as she looked at Maiya. They didn’t have time for distractions. Not with Maiya’s injury. If they didn’t get free of the camp before the hunters returned…she didn’t want to consider what would happen then.
Still, the memory of what it had felt like when she’d connected with the brown unicorn’s emotions made her heart sink. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the unicorn was being kept in a too-small iron cage on purpose. The hunterswantedthe creature to hurt. If she had a chance to set him free…
“Fine,” she said to the white unicorn. “I’ll help release your friend, but after that, you need to get out of my way.”
As if in answer, he sidled back and put space between them.
Cora cast another glance at Maiya. Her friend’s brows were knitted either with concern or confusion. Then Cora whirled toward the cage and closed the remaining distance. The brown unicorn inside the enclosure only blinked at her, each flutter of his lids slow and heavy. She brought her dagger to the ropes binding the bottom left corner of the cage and cut through them. Then the bottom right. The upper corners were more of a challenge as they were high above her head. Standing on her tiptoes, she extended her arms and cut as much as she could reach, starting with one corner, then moving to the next. The process was slower than it had been with the bottom bindings, but soon the ropes began to fray and snap. She sheathed her dagger and wrapped her hands around the iron bars, tugging at them until the front frame began to tilt on its own, snapping what remained of the ropes. Cora darted back just as it swung down and landed in the dirt with a thud.
“Go,” Cora whispered when the unicorn inside made no move to claim his freedom. She pointed to the perimeter of the camp and infused her voice with a warning edge. “Go. Now.”
Finally, he took one wavering step. Then another. His bony legs trembled as he left the cage, his hooves trodding quickly over the iron bars as if they burned. As soon as he was fully upon the dirt floor, he kicked up into an uneven trot and darted into the dark woods.
“Cora,” came Maiya’s voice, quivering with warning.
