Buck sighed, but he couldn’t afford to antagonize the unicorn. “Fine. Alder-in-Winter. You do the whole talk-to-the-birds-and-the-bees thing, right?”
Alder looked down his nose at him. This was a lot of nose. Nobody could do regal disdain quite so well as a unicorn.
*If, by the ‘birds and the bees thing,’ you mean the rare and powerful magic with which I have been blessed, then yes,*Alder said haughtily.*I can communicate with any living creature above a certain level of complexity. And even some which are not, as should be evident, given our current conversation.*
Buck decided to let that one slide without comment. “Can you ask your forest friends if they’ve seen a kid around here? Might speed this up.”
Alder tilted an ear.*I am fully in favor of anything that hastens your departure. One moment.*
The unicorn’s horn brightened. A couple of rabbits hopped out of a nearby bush, sitting up on their haunches. Leaves rustled as squirrels swarmed down from the canopy, clinging to tree trunks with their heads cocked. A whole flock of sparrows swooped out of nowhere, circling the unicorn’s glowing horn like a cartoon headache.
“Damn me,” Buck muttered as a chipmunk ran over one of his boots. “You’re a regular Disney princess, Alder.”
*I do not understand your primate cultural references,*the unicorn replied primly. He stamped a hoof, and the assembled wildlife scattered.*Nor do I wish to. And my name is Alder-in-Winter. Even your small monkey brain should be able to manage to retain it.*
“Pretty rich, coming from someone who insists on calling me ‘Male Deer.’”
*That is your name.*Alder pricked up his ears as a bird whistled in the distance.*Aha. It seems I have located your stray.*
Sure enough, a few more minutes of walking brought them to a small glade. Ignatius was curled in a fern-lined hollow underneath a fallen tree trunk, fast asleep.
Buck nudged the boy with his boot. Ignatius started awake, sitting upright so fast he nearly hit his head on the log. Seeing Buck, his face went through a rapid, complex kaleidoscope of emotion—relief, guilt, worry—before settling on his customary sullen scowl.
“About time,” Ignatius muttered. “I’ve been waiting for someone to notice I was missing. I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”
“All night to think, and that’s the best you could come up with?” Buck hauled the boy up. To his relief, he seemed none the worse for his misadventure. “You need to work on your creativity, kid.”
Ignatius glared at him—and then noticed Buck’s companion. The boy’s mouth fell open.
“Careful, you’ll get stuck like that.” Buck nodded at Alder. “Apologize to the nice unicorn for breaking into his yard, Ignatius.”
Ignatius was still bug-eyed, but he managed a muttered, “Sorry, unicorn.”
*Alder-in-Winter.*The stallion arched his neck, drawing himself up to his full height.*I trust that this will not happen again.*
“Oh, it won’t,” Buck growled. “Come on, kid. We’re going home.”
* * *
After sleeping rough all night, Ignatius was in no state for a brisk dawn hike. Buck ended up having to carry him most of the way, which was a situation that pleased neither of them. By the time they got back to camp, they were both in a foul mood.
“Here we go,” Buck grunted, depositing the kid outside the dorm. “Scoot inside quick and change your clothes. If you’re fast enough, no one will notice you were gone.”
Ignatius—who hadn’t said a word the entire hellish journey—hesitated, eying him suspiciously. “I thought you were going to haul me straight to the director’s office.”
“Can’t. Zeph won’t be there yet. Anyway, I haven’t yet decided whether to get him involved. He’d call your uncle, you know.”
Ignatius was trying hard to muster a confident sneer, and notquitesucceeding. “See if I care.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you do.” Buck jerked his chin at the door. “Hop it, kid. At the moment, only you and me know about this little stunt. It’s in your interests to keep it that way.”
With a last backward glance, Ignatius slipped into the cabin. Buck waited a moment to see if anyone would notice, but the dorm remained still and peaceful. It seemed they’d gotten away with it after all.
Honey was waiting for him back in his own cabin, wrapped in a sheet and pacing the floor. When he came in, she practically leaped on him in relief. This was by far the best thing that had happened all morning, by several orders of magnitude.
“Buck!” She seized his face, drawing him into a fierce, passionate kiss. Just as abruptly, she thrust him away. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. Where have you been?”
“Retrieving Ignatius.”
