Unicorn Quests - 20. Chapter 20

“We have to find him. He’s too little to be on his own.” The map. Maybe the map could help.

“I didn’t see him leave. Are you sure he didn’t follow you? You didn’t see him on your way back?” Londe asked.

“No, I couldn’t come back the same way. To avoid being followed, I had to leave town a different direction and circle around. That’s why I was gone so long.” I unfolded the map, my hands unsteady and my stomach flipping.

How could I have lost another young? I should have woken Londe. Told him I was going. Put the locus near him…

Wait. I had. I paused before the map was fully unfolded, then quickly shut it, tucking it into my tunic. This wasn’t right.

I hadn’t left in the early morning when Londe and the foals were sleeping. They’d been awake. My heart began to hammer in my chest, even as my hands steadied.

‘Something is wrong.’

He tilted his head, staring at me with one dark eye. ‘I know. The locus is missing.’

‘Yes, but something else is wrong. I left him with you. On you. My stuff wasn’t over there.’ I sent a mental picture to go along with my words, the first one showing where my cloak was when I came back to camp and the second showing what I remembered from leaving before I went down into the town.

Were we being watched? The hair on my neck prickled. ‘Stay close to the foals’. “I’m going to head toward the path. Stay here, look around, maybe he’s hiding?” ‘Don’t leave the fire. Stay aware.’ The mental conversation was completely different from the verbal one, but if we had a watcher, I didn’t want to tip them off.

I picked up my cloak, sniffing it as I dramatically whirled it around my face. My scent. The locus. Londe’s clean scent, like icy air on a winter’s day and sweet, frosted berries.

And something else.

There had been someone, something here.

Sweat. Tang. Metal.

Human?

How could they have snuck past Londe? Why didn’t they go after him or the foals? How had they changed the memory of where the locus was?

Magic-wielder. Human, but with spellcasting. That had to be what it was. Why take the damn locus? Why did they keep preying on such a tiny young Being?

Rage danced in my chest. Londe and the foals had stayed by the fire; I had stepped away from it. I must have passed beyond the threshold of the spell to notice something was wrong. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t there when it was cast, so it wasn’t strong enough to fool me.

My weapons still hung on my belt. I resisted the urge to put a palm on my long knife. My gaze swept across the ground. I made a show of it, using just the edges of my vision to sweep farther away, higher. Looking, searching. Where was it? The mark?

There! Draped on a tree branch. A small bag, beaded, something dripping from it. Dark.

Blood.

My roar was barely suppressed.

Striding forward, I yanked the bag off the limb. Brown smeared across my palm. Fluid, not blood. Not my little charge’s blood.

I dropped the bag on the ground and crushed it into the dirt with my heel, shattering the spell it contained.

That’s when the calls broke the silence.

“Locus!” It was him. I knew it was. The long, low vibration shook the air like a piteous moan over the distance.

He’d made that call before, and I’d heard it up close. It was faint now, not even really a sound, but the vibration inside me quivered just the same. “I’m coming!” To the devils if it warned the one who’d taken him; I’d let him know he was not alone and I would rescue him if he could hear me.

And the thief should quiver in fear.

I threw my body down the path, legs churning up the distance in my new boots. My cloak, unfastened, streamed behind him as I sped down the path. I followed those vibrations, let them guide me, the rage rising as his fear called out to me.

Rocks sprang up to block my way. I leapt them. Trees bent, but I endured their whipping branches and the sharp, stinging blows to my face, chest, and arms as I barreled through. Roots tried to trip me, to twist my ankles.

Snarling, I used all the agility I’d retained from my former life and made it through. “You will not escape me!” I shouted.

Blue fluttered in front of me. To the right. I swerved, last minute, then jumped. I caught the fabric, jerking on the fistful I gripped with all my might. “Caught you, you bastard.”

The figure choked, stumbling, one arm wind-milling wildly before they slammed onto their ass with a broken gasp. I spun, slamming one boot down on their arm at the shoulder to pin them to the ground. The locus was in their other arm, its ears rolled down, covering its eyes, mouth open and warbling that vibrating call unabated.

“I’m here. You’re going to be fine. I’m here,” I assured him. My knife hissed as I pulled it from my sheath.

Bending, I used the edge of the blade to push the hood of the cloak off the human spellcaster’s face where it had fallen.

Female? The face was narrow, heart-shaped, with green eyes surrounded by pale lashes and a riot of red hair spilling from the cloak. Her chest heaved, still trying to draw in a breath.

She opened her mouth, and I put my blade under her chin. “No speaking,” I warned. “Or this will go right through your mouth and keep you from using that wicked tongue to cast a single spell in the most painful way possible.”