“It was dark out, Nia. Everyone knows shadows play tricks with your mind—especially when you’re already afraid. Haven’t you ever wondered if the legends are true? We could go and find out.”
She tosses the book onto the coffee table, rattling our forgotten teacups. “Don’t you understand? If my father discovers that I went to see the Unseelie, he’ll have my head—and yours.”
“We are almost twenty-five-years old. We do not need his permission.”
“What do you propose we do?” She waves a hand toward the door. “Stroll into the square and throw a welcome party? Bring one of the neighbor’s new calves as a sacrifice?”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Although a welcome gift never hurt anyone. Perhaps that is something to consider. “Is it illegal to go to town on Wednesdays?”
Her hand falls to her lap with a quiet slap. “Well, no, but?—”
“If the king was truly concerned for his citizens’ safety, there would be laws in place keeping us from leaving our homes. Since there aren’t, I can only assume that it isn’t as dangerous as everyone believes.”
It takes ten more minutes to convince her and another five for her to pick a pair of shoes to wear. Don’t ask me why her choice of footwear matters when she’s made me promise that we will stay hidden.
While I’m waiting, I straighten my wrinkled skirts and tighten the strings on my dress’s corset top. I’m in love with the pale-yellow daisies printed on the silk, and the way the lacy sleeves of my shift puff over my shoulders like mushroom caps. It really is far too lovely a dress to waste on a day inside.
With her parents still in the kitchen arguing over what to bake with their cooking apples, Nia and I slip out the front door. Instead of leaving through the front gate where the neighbors might see, we creep around to the back gate and cross a field dotted with black and tan calves. Avoiding splatters of cow dung makes the crossing take far longer than it should, but eventually we reach the heart of the city.
Turning left at the library, we hurry down a skinny alley between the physician’s office and an apothecary that spits us out into the square. The businesses are all shuttered, and the homes all have their blinds and curtains pulled. If I hadn’t been here this time yesterday, I’d believe the city abandoned. Even the fountain no longer spills water into the wide pool below.
Doesn’t look like the Unseelie are here yet. Either that, or we missed them.
There’s a tug at the back of my skirt, followed my Nia’s whisper. “This was a mistake. We should go back.”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll be fine.” I slip into one of the smaller alleys with the best view. Across the square waits the well, as silent as the rest of the city.
Excitement bubbles like the cider we drank last night, effervescent and light in my chest. When I glance over my shoulder at Nia, my excitement turns to guilt. Her hands tremble where they grip her skirts, and her teeth worry her lower lip.
Poor thing. She really is terrified.
I’ve had my walk. Perhaps it would be best if we went back. I can always sneak out on my own next week. “Look, if you want to go home?—”
Her eyes widen, and her face drains of color as she takes a gulping breath. “It’s too late. They’re here.”
I whirl back toward the square where horses, larger than any I’ve ever seen, with coats and manes black as pitch, slowly plod into the square. Deadly spikes protrude from the beasts’ massive foreheads, gleaming like obsidian.
Not horses.Unicorns.
Here I thought the creatures of legend were all extinct.
Most of the unicorns pull small wooden carts laden with large clay jugs. It’s hard to fathom crossing that rickety bridge on foot, let alone on horseback.
As fascinating as the unicorns may be, they’re nothing compared to the fae sitting astride the beasts.
My heart pounds a little harder, climbing my throat, swelling with each rapid beat.Heavens…
Nia catches my arm, tugging me deeper into the alley, her labored breaths wheezing as she presses herself against the stone wall. “Shit.Shit.What are we going to do?”
“Take a deep breath. They’re here for water, remember? Not us. We are perfectly safe.” I pry myself from her strangle-hold and grip the gritty stones, peering around the wall to watch the Unseelie approach the well.
Nia leans over me, her fingers white as the mortar where they dig into the wall. “They’re giants…”
Not giants, exactly, but certainly well over six feet tall. Taller than any of the men I met at the pub. “And would you look at that? Not a horn in sight.”
Not a shirt in sight either, which I appreciate more than I’ll ever admit. Unlike the softer Seelie men, the Unseelie look as if they’ve been carved from marble. The only hint of color is their greenish-gray skin that reminds me of a forest drenched in fog. While Seelie fae have hair of all shades and hues, the Unseelie’s hair is black as a raven’s wing. Some have the sides shorn so short, you can see the skin beneath.
Black rings climb their pointed ears, longer at the top than our own. They ride as if they’re one with the creatures beneath them, all lithe grace and raw power.
