No, we couldn't undo it. But standing there, staring at Mestin Finespike, I knew we had to do something about it.
Mestin's eyes shifted, darting around as if the shadows of the woods held his secrets. He pulled at the frayed edges of his coat, a nervous tick that didn't go unnoticed.
"Okay, you got the horn. Then what?" I pressed, my voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
He hesitated, then exhaled a heavy breath. "I looked into what those horns were used for," he started, avoiding my eyes. "Turns out, they're not just valuable, they’re lifesaving. The horn, it's got properties. It stops people from turning... into things they're not."
"Shifting?" Daniel's deep voice rumbled with a mix of suspicion and interest.
"Like werewolves," Mestin clarified, his gaze finally settling on Daniel.
"Go on," I urged, my mind racing with possibilities.
"I made a cure," Mestin admitted, almost too casually. "A real one. I figured there'd be folks willing to pay handsomely to avoid becoming... well, you know."
"Monsters," Wade said flatly, and I shot him a warning look.
"Exactly," Mestin agreed. "But then, there were no takers.”
"The two werewolves in town were fine being werewolves and didn’t have enough money for the cure anyway, right?” Daniel asked.
Mestin nodded. "I had to get creative.”
I knew where this was going, and any pity I’d felt for the man faded. He was terrible. The worst of the worst. Karma was going to have a field day with him.
Mestin continued. "I got myself a few of the town's wealthiest. Infected them, then showed up with my miracle cure. For a price, of course. And it worked! I was in business, I just needed to keep coming up with more unicorn horns."
Daniel growled, low in his throat, his bear breaking through.
"Hey, business is business," Mestin said with a shrug that made my blood boil.
"You're playing with lives, "
"What, you’ve never needed money?" Mestin looked away. "And it worked. Till now, anyway."
I watched Mestin's face, trying to gauge whether he was proud or ashamed of the twisted empire he'd built. He caught my gaze but quickly shifted his eyes to a spot beyond me. So, maybe there was something human enough within him to still feel guilt. If only that was enough.
"It was a simple system, really," he said, the words falling like hammers onto an anvil. "Catch unicorns, harvest the horns, make the cure. Then find the right buyers."
"And keep killing unicorns, you mean," I corrected sharply, unable to mask my disgust.
"We’ll, that’s the only way to sustain the supply," Mestin replied, his voice flat. "Demand's high, keeps the money flowing."
"Did you ever think about the unicorns?" Wade took a step forward, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"They’re just animals. Part of nature. The circle of life, or whatever." He shrugged, as if that would lessen his actions.
"Circle of life?" Daniel said, incredulous. "You're ending lives for profit?—"
"I didn’t figure anyone would notice, actually," Mestin admitted with a wry twist of his lips. "Unicorns aren't exactly registering to vote."
"But we noticed." I stared him down again. "We got involved."
Mestin looked at each of us in turn, a flicker of something—regret? Frustration?—crossing his nondescript features.
"Yeah, I didn’t count on that," he muttered. "Didn't think anyone would care enough to stop me."
I stepped closer to Mestin, my boots crunching on the forest floor. "You've committed a terrible crime," I said, my voice steady but firm. "Killing unicorns... that's vile."
