“What do you think happened to the others? Better yet, what happened to you? Your kind hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years.”
He scraped the earth with a hoof.Don’t remember. I try. I try and try, but it’s…gone. All I remember is…my forest. Then being here. Hunted.
“How long have you been here?”
Time feels…not what I remember it feeling. Wasn’t here long before I met you.
The unicorn’s predicament both saddened and fascinated her. Before her very eyes was a myth come to life. A mystery unraveling. Not even the Forest People knew the creatures had returned.
Well, at least they hadn’t before Roije informed the elders. And that was only if they hadn’t known all along and kept the intel from the rest of the commune.
Cora’s heart clenched with a mixture of anger and longing. She missed Maiya. Salinda. The comfort of her daily routine. She missed what it was like when she hadn’t known just how great a danger her presence was. But mingled with those feelings was irritation at the elders’ unwillingness to intervene with the plight of the unicorns. She understood why the Forest People refused to involve themselves with royal matters, but surely the capture of fae creatures was worth taking a stand against. If she had the support of the commune—even just a handful of their best trackers and hunters—they could overpower the men she followed, keep one alive for the sake of leading them to the next party, and then attack them too. She could free the unicorns and leave no one alive to tell the tale of the mysterious people who’d interfered?—
So violent, the unicorn said with disdain.
Cora pursed her lips. The Forest People would likely feel the same about her bloody fantasy. They were a nonviolent people. Even hunting was done with ritual reverence. No life was taken without need. No tree was felled without blessing the soil it belonged to. No hide was skinned without gratitude for the animal that gave its life to provide food and warmth.
Another reason Cora never truly belonged with the Forest People. When she’d killed Erwin, she hadn’t bothered to bless his soul or pray for his family. And she still had no desire to.
You can call me something, the unicorn said. The offer was stiff and begrudging, but it came with something that felt like camaraderie. Perhaps he too understood Cora’s pent-up rage.
“You mean I can give you a name?”
Better be good.
“All right.” She studied his white fur flecked with silver. His wounds left by Erwin’s whip were almost fully healed, and his coat looked twice as lustrous as it had been when they’d first met. He was graceful. Quiet. “How about…Ghost?”
Rather not be named after being dead.
“Fair enough. Snowball?”
He gave a derisive whinny.I am not a snowball.
“Mister Cuddles?” Cora smirked.
He sidled away from her, bristling with indignation.You mock me. I am not to be cuddled. I am strong and fearless. I am brave. Hunters tremble at the pound of my hooves. It was the most descriptive communication she’d ever felt from him. Which meant she really must have gotten under his skin.
“Fine,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Something brave then. Thunder Hoof. Rage Mane. Valorous Maximus.”
He radiated with a hint of approval.I sort of like the last one. Want it simpler though.
“Valor? No, Valorre.”
Those were both the same word.
“There was an extraRin that last one. And anE. It makes it a proper name.”
Why? Your alphabet means nothing to me.
“It just does. Trust me.” She was mostly teasing for the sake of entertainment, but she did like the way the name looked in her mind’s eye. “Valorre. There you have it.”
Fine. The word was curt but she could sense that he liked the name.
She grinned at Valorre and realized it was the first time she’d smiled since leaving the Forest People.
Valorre stiffened.
Cora’s momentary mirth drained in an instant as she felt the unicorn’s trepidation. “What is it?” she whispered.
