Free Unicorn Vengeance by Claire Delacroix Page B

order. She looked up to find every hostile eye upon her, swallowed carefully and began to play.
    * * *
    When finally sleep came to Wolfram that night, ‘twas an agitated slumber that would leave him more exhausted than he had been before. His lips yet burned, his body strained, he twisted beneath the tangled embrace of a blanket that had never troubled him before.
    And then Wolfram heard the hoofbeats.
    He was in a fortress, standing in the bailey, watching transfixed as the wind rising from the sea shredded the fog before him. The fog reminded him of Montsalvat and he wondered if ‘twas that keep that haunted him. No way had he of knowing, for even when the fog cleared, it revealed a fortress he could not have recognized. Montsalvat had remained hidden from him throughout that night.
    In his mind’s eye, Wolfram saw a high keep looming above him, its summit still lost in the fog, and ancient walls stretching away to either side to similarly disappear into the mist. Thunder echoed in the distance, and the dark sky suddenly held the portent of a storm. The air was thick and heavy, and Wolfram knew the rain was coming.
    Light hoofbeats echoed again in the eerie silence and he turned in place, seeking out the sound. To his surprise, he stood alone with no horse and naught but the garments upon his back.
    The keep was abandoned and so was he.
    A beast whinnied, and he turned to find a small goat running toward him. Its coat was startlingly white against the unexpectedly verdant green of the grass in the bailey. It lifted its head as it drew near and held his gaze with otherworldly yellow eyes in a manner distinctly alien to most domestic creatures. Wolfram fancied its gaze was knowing, and he took a step back, certain the beast had read his very thoughts.
    Impossible that a creature could understand what he had done.
    The beast came closer, and he saw that it had but one horn. An opalescent spire twined from its forehead, and when the lightning flashed, that horn caught the light.
    A unicorn’s horn. An elixir for poison. ‘Twas a message for him alone. Suddenly Wolfram was certain the beast knew his secret occupation and that the gleam in its eyes was far from friendly.
    It lunged after him and, like a shameless coward, he ran from the truth.
    Lightning rent the sky, the flash nearly blinding. The crack of its impact lifted Wolfram to his toes and made the hair rise all over his flesh. He shivered as the sky rumbled and knew relief, even in his dream, that he was safe.
    No pursuing hoofbeats did Wolfram hear. Trepidation replaced relief in a heartbeat.
    He dared to glance back, only to find the unicorn lying dead on the grass just steps behind him. Wolfram caught his breath in surprise.
    Beside the fallen creature knelt a woman, a woman Wolfram knew had not been there before. Whence had she come, so swiftly and silently? She bent low as though stricken by sorrow at the creature’s demise, and her hair obscured her features.
    Wolfram noted the ebony color of that hair and its wavy nature. He swallowed in recognition, barely having time to brace himself before she glanced up and impaled him with those green eyes.
    Wolfram felt that his feet suddenly took root and he was fixed to the spot. Too late he saw that his tormentress was nude and marveled that he could have missed that salient fact for any interval, however short. Her skin was such an even, creamy hue that he longed to touch her. His body responded as he might have expected, though still he could not tear his gaze away from her perfection. His lips burned with renewed vigor, as if daring him to recall her embrace.
    When she lifted her hand as though in offering to him, his eyes widened in shock at the bloody ruby resting in her palm. Wolfram glanced unwillingly to the dead beast, knowing all the while what he would see, yet hoping he would not.
    His heart sank at the evidence before him. She had retrieved the red carbuncle from the base of the