An Artificial Night

Her face was still human, even framed by horse’s ears and the beginnings of a mane, and the terror in her eyes told me that her mind was equally intact. Blind Michael was taking his time, making every inch hurt. That was the best way to get what he wanted; when the change was done, her spirit would be broken, and she’d be ready to obey. Bastard. Silently, I swore he’d die for what he’d done. It wasn’t the first time I’d made that promise. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Quentin dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching out as if to pull her into his arms. She whimpered and jerked backward, almost falling. The reason for her oddly formal posture became apparent as she moved: her skirt had been split up the back and tied together with a dirty shoelace. A fully-formed horse’s tail protruded through the hole she’d made there, matted with muck and straw from the stable floor. It would’ve been pretty, if it hadn’t been attached to a panicked human girl.

“Katie—” Quentin said helplessly, and reached for her again. This time she screamed. It ended in a high-pitched, inhuman whinny. Things were changing inside her as well as out.

“Quentin, move away from her,” I said.

“But—”

“Look at her. You need to move away.” Katie looked toward me and cringed, falling silent. She’d already learned the value of obedience. I guess terror is a good teacher.

Quentin rose and walked back to me, shivering. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

“Besides the obvious?” I gestured toward my ears, then his. “We’re what’s wrong with her. She’s already confused, and she thinks you’re human. Right now, you look like another part of this nightmare.”

“I—” he began, and stopped, staring at me. “Oh, root and branch.” He looked back to Katie, who was trying to vanish into her corner. “She thinks I’m one of them.”

“Yes, she does,” I said, gently. “You can’t go to her. She won’t let you.”

“But . . .”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me do this?”

Quentin bit his lip, nodding. I could see how much the gesture had cost him.

The scratches on my hand were still bleeding, and that was a good thing; blood always makes things easier for me when there’s magic involved. I walked over and knelt in front of Katie, holding my candle between us. “Hello,” I said. She whimpered. I ignored it, continuing, “My name’s Toby. I want to take you home. Do you want to go home?” She burrowed farther into the corner, flattening her ears. She wasn’t going to believe a word I said, and that was fine; it just meant I’d have to work without her permission. With fresh-drawn blood on my hands, the lack of permission wouldn’t stop me.

“ ‘If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended,’”I said. The smell of copper and cut grass rose around us, damped down and made small by the alien nature of Blind Michael’s lands. “ ‘That you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear . . .’ ” The spell wasn’t taking hold. I needed more blood; I wasn’t strong enough to catch her without it. I’ve never been strong enough to work without the blood.

I raised my wounded hand to my mouth and sucked at the deepest of the scratches. The blood was hot and bitter. “ ‘And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream.’ ” The smell of copper burst around us, leaving me with a pounding headache. Magic takes strength, and I was running out.

Katie’s face went slack as the spell took hold. I shook my head to clear it and said, “Katie, you don’t feel well. You have an upset stomach, and you want to go home. You don’t see anything strange, you just feel a little sick. Your boyfriend is going to walk you home. Do you understand?” She nodded, expression unchanging. I patted her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “Good. Quentin will be here in a moment.” She nodded again and smiled, settling in to wait. She’d wait until Quentin came or the spell ran out, whichever came first. As long as nothing broke my illusions, she’d be fine, but any major shock could jolt her back into the present. I needed to keep her away from mirrors and away from Blind Michael.

I stood, breathing unevenly. “Quentin, hurry. You need to get her out of here.”

“Are you all right?”