Chapter 23
Rowe
We have two fewer weeks to get everything done. Saving the farm already seemed impossible. Well,morepossible with Pane in charge. But now that Luke’s stolen time from us, I’m worried we won’t be able to save the place at all.
Even though, after Luke had left the house, Pane assured me we’d be fine.
Will we?
I wander aimlessly across the meadow, unable to sit, unable to eat, unable to think. The earth brightens under my feet, lighting up my footprints and illuminating my entire body. When I was young, I loved coming out here, dropping to the ground, and making angels of light like you would snow angels.
Pro tip: Light angels are much cooler.
But now all I do is pass my hand over the grass, admire how it glows, and then feel a pang of sadness that the magic ends before it touches the house. The river of power dries up at the scrubby bushes that surround the home. After that, the land is barren.
Still wandering, I move past the meadow and head to the road. Before I can stop myself, I’m in the trees, dodging branches and keeping to the tree line until what I’m searching for pops into view.
There, sitting all alone in a pasture, is a small barn.
There are new signs nailed to it, handwritten in sloppy paint as if the person who penned them couldn’t be bothered.
Well,I’mbothered by their words. More than bothered. A ripple of anger surges down my spine as I scan them.
Mad Unicorn.
Beware.
No Trespassing.
Enter at Your Own Risk.
I ignore them all and step right up to the barn door. Late-summer humidity clings to my skin, making my palms slick. I wipe them on my jeans, grab hold of the handle, and tug. The door quietly groans open.
Inside, it’s warm, and the smell of hay fills the air. Moonlight floods in through the open door, throwing light on the concrete that stretches out before me. But that’s not the only illumination in the stable. In the very back, a night-light shines from a socket in the wall.
“Stella,” I whisper. “You awake?”
The last stall begins to glow, and a smile breaks across my face. “Hey, girl.”
The first part of Stella that appears as she steps up to the open half door is her horn. Golden light erupts from the spirals, and the whole thing shines like a candle submerged in the darkest depths of Sally Ray’s black soul.
Stella nickers impatiently as I approach. “You look good.”
She shuffles, and the sound of metal scraping against the floor draws my attention. With the light cast from her horn, it’s not hard to make out the cuff that’s secured to her hind leg, just over her hoof, and is attached at the other end to a plate on the wall.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
Her dark eyes are sad as she lowers her head. I slide a hand under her cheek and press my forehead to her nose.
She smells of earth, hay, and sorrow. It’s that last emotion that makes anger flare bright and hot in my core. But before it’s able to take a firm hold of me, it melts away like snow on a sunny afternoon and is replaced by love—pure, limitless love.
It’s the kind of gift that only a unicorn can give.
“One day,” I whisper. “One day I’ll get you out of here.” I throw my arms around her. “I promise.”
As I hug her, the smell of roses fills my nose. I open one eye and jump back as a stem shoots out from a crack in the board lining the stable. More do the same, and the stems grow, unfurling into delicate green leaves, which reveal pink buds that grow at an accelerated pace until they open up into red-petaled roses. The blooms sprout by the dozens, snaking through the boards in the walls, falling from the ceiling, rising up from the ground to wind gently around my ankles.
Their perfume fills the air as big, crimson-bloomed flowers blanket the walls, ceiling, and floor.
