Something about the tone of his voice makes me do as he says. I peer into the darkness, trying to pierce the dark shadows. Then I stumble. Dante stiffens in annoyance and pulls me towards him again.
‘You’re still freezing,’ he mutters. He wraps his arms round me and I feel a shiver of delicious warmth. Then the figure appears.
I gape. It’s an older man, wearing a pair of fraying boxer shorts decorated with red love hearts. ‘He’s wearing underwear,’ I whisper. ‘He’s not cold.’
‘Because he’s not here like we are,’ Dante breathes in my ear. ‘Now be quiet and watch.’
I force myself to relax. Normally, if I were in such close contact with someone I didn’t know, I’d be hyperventilating and close to passing out. Instead, I find I’m enjoying the sensation of Dante’s skin against mine. Obviously it’s because he’s just a figment of my imagination.
I focus on the scantily clad man in front of us. Whoever he is, he doesn’t look very happy. He moans again. ‘Help!’
Without thinking, I pull away from Dante. He lets out a smothered curse and grabs me back.
‘Let me go! He needs help.’
‘He’s fine.’
‘But–’
Dante clamps a hand round my mouth. ‘I told you to be quiet.’
There’s a familiar clatter of hooves to our left, followed by a harsh whinny. Dante pulls me further back until the man is only just visible through the blanket of darkness. He spins one way then another, his hands clawing at the air. Another whinny follows and the unicorn – or rather the mare, if Dante is to be believed – appears. Her white teeth flash dangerously.
I realise that this isn’t Pegasus: there’s a scar across this animal’s muzzle and she looks slightly taller. She still has bright-red hooves, though.
The man moans again and the mare’s eyes narrow. She snorts and a cloud of misty breath erupts from her nostrils. She pulls back her ears and I realise that she’s about to charge. I jerk against Dante but he holds me fast.
‘He’ll be fine,’ he murmurs. ‘He’s an outlier.’
Except I still don’t understand what that means. All I’m aware of is the mare is staring threateningly at the vulnerable guy. She paws at the ground, making a scraping sound like nails down a blackboard. Then, without warning, she leaps forward.
I struggle against Dante’s arms. It’s no good, though; I can’t move. In front of my horrified gaze, the man throws up his arms and screams. A heartbeat later both he and the mare have vanished and I’m free. I rush forward, but there’s no sign of either of them, other than a few broken twigs.
I spin round. ‘What happened? Where did they go? We need to find him!’
Dante watches me with an annoyingly calm expression. ‘They’ve gone. She’s stalked him into his own dreams. Your efforts to save him are commendable but pointless.’
‘But...’
‘He’s an outlier.’
‘You keep saying that,’ I spit. ‘But I don’t understand what it means.’
‘He’s not really here.’
I gesture frantically around the small clearing. ‘Obviously! He’s gone and she’s gone after him!’
‘You need to calm down.’
I jab him in the chest. ‘You need to explain what’s going on.’
‘He wasn’t really here,’ Dante repeats. ‘He wandered in by accident and now he’s wandered out again. He’ll have a nightmare and it’ll be bad but the chances are he won’t even remember it. He’ll wake up safe and sound.’
‘We still could have helped him!’
‘No, we couldn’t because we’re not outliers.’ He holds up a palm to forestall another of my protests. ‘He’s not aware of where he is or who he is. To him this is just a dream.’
‘Of course it’s a dream!’
‘You remember being here. You’re in control of your actions. You have awareness.’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘So?’
‘Awareness is everything. If you’re aware of what’s happening, aware of being hurt or,’ he glances towards the spot where the mare and the man disappeared, ‘being killed, then your mind can’t take the consequences. What happens to you or me in this world happens in real life also. It’s not like that for outliers.’
I stare at him uncomprehendingly. Dante sighs. ‘If you’d intervened, or if the mare had seen you, you’d be attacked. But for you it would be real.’
I think about my damp hair and the cut on my cheek. ‘So I’d be hurt?’
‘You’d be dead. Mares don’t maim. They kill.’
‘Pegasus didn’t maim or kill me.’
Dante’s expression turns flinty. ‘You can’t name them like pets. And I don’t know why that happened. I’ve never seen a mare act docile before.’
‘You mean,’ I point out, ‘you’ve never seen a mare act docile with you before.’ I look at him smugly. ‘Perhaps they just don’t like you.’
‘They don’t like anyone. You got lucky.’
I’m convinced he’s wrong. Pegasus and I had a shared understanding when I freed her from the trap. A thought strikes me. ‘Hold on,’ I say. ‘Are you trying to capture the mares? And hurt them?’