I move behind its head so I’m not in danger of getting spiked. The creature is still ignoring me but its movements are growing less frenetic. I kneel down and gently touch its mane. It jerks away as if frightened so I try again. The unicorn huffs. ‘There, boy,’ I soothe.
It snarls and I almost fall backwards. Its muzzle twists towards me and its jaws open to reveal a row of sharp white molars that look as if they’ve been chiselled into points. It wouldn’t be much fun to be bitten by those.
‘There, girl,’ I try.
The unicorn relaxes a little. From the way its gums keep drawing back over its teeth, it is still keen to take a chunk out of me but it’s in pain and that is keeping it at bay. I reach out again for its mane, more boldly this time, and stroke it several times. Each touch calms it down, until it stops whining and writhing. Its breathing is heavy and laboured and its yellow eyes are half-closed.
I take advantage of the situation and try to work out what’s wrong. When it moves its legs slightly, I see the trap. Steel jaws encase the unicorn’s forelock and blood is seeping from the wickedly serrated edges.
‘Poor thing,’ I say softly. It lets out a whimper in response. ‘I’m going to have a look at your leg,’ I tell it. ‘It would be nice if you didn’t try to eat me or kick me. I know I’m no virgin so there will be no laying of your pretty head in my lap. But that doesn’t mean I’m suitable as a midnight snack. Okay?’
The unicorn flicks its tail. Taking that as tacit agreement, I step round its supine body and kneel down by the trap. It’s a lethal looking thing. I chew my lip. I don’t want to make things worse by trying to remove it but I can’t leave the poor animal like this, whether it’s a dream unicorn with a dream wound or not.
I grit my teeth and touch the jaws of the trap. The unicorn screeches. ‘I barely brushed it,’ I say, exasperated. ‘If you want me to help you, you’re going to have to quieten down. I can’t do with all the screaming.’
I look it in the eyes. It blinks at me and I’m sure I see a flicker of resigned acceptance. I nod briskly. ‘Now, this is going to hurt a lot but once the trap’s off, you’ll feel a whole lot better. I’m going to do this on a count of three.’ I grip both sides of the encircling trap. ‘One, two...’ Without waiting for three, I jerk as forcefully as I can manage and yank the steel jaws apart.
The unicorn screeches again but manages to pull away, freeing its leg. It lies there panting for a moment or two, then staggers up. I snap the trap shut again to prevent any other creatures getting caught in it and toss it to the side. I frown at the unicorn’s wound and look upwards. Now it’s upright and I can see it clearly, I realise it’s really not that big, more the size of a small pony than a horse.
‘I need to clean your wound,’ I tell it. ‘Is there a stream or a river or something nearby?’
The unicorn snickers, dropping its head. It nuzzles my hair for a brief moment then draws back. I start getting back to my feet just as it turns and darts away.
‘Hey!’ I yell as it is swallowed up into the darkness again. ‘Your leg will get infected! Come back!’
Silence. I curse and dust off my palms against my T-shirt. ‘Infected,’ I scoff. ‘Zoe, it’s not real.’ I roll my eyes at myself. Out of all the weird dreams I’ve had so far, this is by far the strangest.
***
If I’m expecting the Chairman to show up or for me to wake up, I’m disappointed. I’m still in the dream forest and I’m still bloody cold. There’s not even a distant whinny from the departed unicorn. Unsure what to do, I start walking in the direction it disappeared in. Perhaps I’ll come across something else.
There’s no discernible path so I have to pick my way through, ducking under lowlying branches and making sure I don’t collide with trees that seem to spring up out of nowhere. I pay close attention to the ground in case there are any more traps.
I start to enjoy the walk, and start paying attention to the different plants I can see. Most of them seem like the ones you find in any countryside woodland. Occasionally, however, there’s one that appears mutated and different. For example, I spot a tiny snowdrop at the foot of an oak tree but, when I bend down to take a closer look, I see that the stamen inside is blood red. The shade is not dissimilar to the hooves of the unicorn.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I spot the glow of a fire ahead. I can smell the sweet smoke drifting towards me through the trees. I’m tempted to avoid the area altogether and continue with my quiet inspection of the flora but as this is the first break in the dream landscape, I feel compelled to check it out. I stride confidently towards the fire, slowing only when I get close and hear muffled voices.
There are two of them, both male, although the first one is more rough and gravelly. ‘The Mayor has his damn claws in everything,’ he complains.