Kai continued to curse under his breath, but he and Sativola both mounted their horses and followed as she led the way. She had a keen sense of direction, but could only hope she was leading them back to the road after how turned around they’d gotten riding away through the snow.
While, for selfish reasons, she regretted the loss of Finn, she couldn’t help taking a measure of comfort in traveling without her. Perhaps now they could travel unnoticed and unhindered by Faie, An Fiach, or anyone else.
Finn felt entirely numb by the time her horse slowed its frantic pace. She’d made her way out of the snow, deep into a forest. Though the sun now shone overhead with early morning light, she had no idea if she was near the Sand Road, or had traveled in the complete opposite direction. Now, she wasn’t even sure of the direction of Oighear’s compound. All she was sure of, was that she was alone.
She looked down at her mount’s white neck as the creature calmly ambled onward. Its fur was stained with her blood. She gingerly pushed her cloak aside and rolled up her sleeve to take a look at the gash. It had stopped bleeding, but the skin gaped like an extra mouth. Knowing little about wound care, she did the only thing she could think to do, and pulled a strip of fabric from the edge of her tattered cloak. Clenching her jaw, she did her best to one-handedly wrap it around her wound, securing it in a knot with her free hand and her teeth. That task finished, she pushed her bloody sleeve back down and focused on her surroundings.
Though she’d left the snow behind, the air was almost unbearably cold. There was a bedroll tied to the back of her saddle, fortunately, but she’d yet to check its accompanying satchels for other supplies, and she had little motivation to do so. All she could think about was what might have happened to the others. If they’d been recaptured by Oighear . . .
She sighed. Even if that were the case, she had no idea how to find her way back to rescue them. If she was even capable of rescuing them at all. She patted her horse’s neck, then stroked her fingers through its long white mane, grateful for the horse’s company.
She worked her fingers further up its mane, marveling at the impossibly soft texture. Seeming to appreciate the touch, the horse stopped walking and turned its head back to look at her. Her gaze moved to the horse’s forehead, and she nearly lost her seat. Right in the middle, its base covered by white strands of mane, was a glistening white horn. The creature looked at her askance with a crystalline blue eye, as if daring her to question its existence.
Finn stared back at the unicorn in shock. Her scant, previous memories let her know unicorns were exceedingly rare. They had been hunted to near extinction, and the remaining few creatures had faded along with the Aos Sí and other Faie. Why would the Aos Sí give up such a precious creature?
Eywen’s plea rang through her mind, to have mercy when the time came. Was the gift of the unicorn an effort to gain the Dair’s favor? She felt oddly guilty, since she had little to do with the Dair, and knew she would not likely sway any judgement passed upon the Aos Sí, unicorn or no.
“We should probably keep moving,” she instructed, not expecting the creature to understand her, but at the same time, feeling odd about nudging such a majestic beast with her heels like she would a common horse.
The unicorn turned its head forward and started walking again without further prodding.
“Can you understand me?” Finn gasped.
The unicorn did not reply, and simply kept walking, so Finn passed off its obedience as a coincidence. Her injured arm was throbbing and she didn’t know whether her friends were living or dead. It didn’t matter whether or not a unicorn could understand her.
The unicorn carried her onward as the sun slowly made its progress across the clear sky. She allowed the creature full rein, hoping it would not lead her back to Oighear, while secretly wishing it would, if only to make sure her friends were not recaptured.
Eventually Finn sorted through the satchels secured on either side of the bedroll to find several day’s worth of food, a fire striker, two full waterskins, and a dagger. When she pulled out her first portion of food, a crumbly bannock wrapped in thin cloth, a small coin purse was revealed. Stuffing the bannock greedily into her mouth, she withdrew the purse to examine it. Inside were several coins, and a small blue stone. She held the stone up to the waning sunlight, marveling at its clarity, then quickly stuffed it back in the purse just as the unicorn halted.
She glanced around through the trees. In the distance was a yellow meadow, just visible through the needles bedecking the heavy boughs. She turned her gaze back to the unicorn. “Are we done traveling for the day then?”
The unicorn did not reply.
With a heavy sigh, Finn climbed down from the saddle, then nearly lost her footing on the damp soil below. Her legs felt like the bones within had turned to mush, and could not properly support her. She hobbled to a nearby tree and leaned against it.
To her surprise, the unicorn followed her, then gently nuzzled against her chest. Its horn hovered perilously close to her face, but she somehow trusted the creature not to harm her. She lifted her uninjured arm to stroke its cheek, once again taking comfort in the unicorns’s presence.
“What do you say we build a fire so we don’t freeze?” Finn asked.
The unicorn simply stared at her, then turned so she could reach the satchels on its rump.
“Can you understand me?” she asked as she searched the satchel for the fire striker.
The unicorn did not reply, and instead began inspecting the sparse tufts of grass covering the ground. Feeling sorry for the creature, she removed its saddle and bridle, though as she let the heavy saddle drop to the ground, she realized she’d have a hard time getting it back on. Her wound had rendered her right arm nearly useless.
With a weak body and heavy soul, she removed the satchels and bedroll from the saddle, then set to gathering wood for a fire. She knew if she were traveling with Iseult, he would not allow the comfort for fear they might draw attention, but Iseult was not there, and part of her wanted to draw attention. Perhaps her friends were wandering the same woods as she, and her fire would lure them in.
It took her longer than she would ever admit to any of her human companions to coax a flame from the dried grass and branches she’d gathered. Once the flames no longer needed her gentle fanning to feed them, she slumped back in relief. Her entire upper arm felt like it had been bashed with a rock, letting her know the wound was deep, and needed proper care.
The unicorn continued to occupy itself as she moved her clothing aside to reveal the hastily bandaged wound. She unwound its covering and groaned as the fabric tugged at her sticky blood. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she retrieved one of the water skins and splashed cool liquid against the injury.
Its attention caught by her hisses and groans, the unicorn ambled over to where she sat. Its breath fogged near her face as it lowered its muzzle to examine her. It took a few steps behind her, then lowered to the ground.
Feeling unbearably weary, Finn unfurled her bedroll and covered herself, then leaned back against the unicorn’s soft belly. She instantly began to doze off. As she rested, she thought she could hear soft whispers around her. Her subconscious convinced her that the whispers were part of her fervent dreams, and she slipped into oblivion, sandwiched between the warmth of the unicorn and the fire.
Anders couldn’t breathe. He was sure his lungs would pop at any moment. He thrust his arm upward, flailing for the next handhold. His palm scraped against rough basalt, setting his already raw skin on fire. With a final burst of effort, he pulled himself upward. He rolled across the edge to fully plant his body on top of the cliff face.
He stared upward as a flock of sparrows flew across the cheery blue sky, then a white, bald head hovered into his vision.