Sleepless (Curse of the Blood Fox Trilogy, Book #1) (18 page)

Get out,
I thought immediately. I had no
manners left for her either, not when she was within the walls I had spent so
many years building protections around. The very thought of what she could
possibly do there scattered my nerves.

She did not
answer, but she didn't leave either. Instead, something foreign grabbed hold of
my thoughts, and her gentle forcing of my will sent frightening shivers down my
arms. Visions, or maybe dreams, flashed through my consciousness without
consent. They were clearer and more distinct than memories, but memories they
had to be. I recognized the people and places in them, the things that had
happened through my own eyes. I couldn't put words to those flashes or names to
those faces as they flooded my thoughts, but they formed a dark pit in the center
of my stomach.

Oh my,
there is more at work here than myself,
I heard her say, her song-like words wiggling through the
dark parts of my head.
Someone has been keeping things from you. Should we
dig deeper and bring back what has been stolen?
 

I shuddered,
a terrible sickness squeezing my throat as the flashes of memory grew harder to
see, and actually brought physical pain pulsing through my skull. I was losing
to these blurry images, but I had trained long enough under the Restful Monks
to know other cruder methods of keeping unwelcome things from consuming one’s
mind. I dragged out a dagger from my sleeve and, without allowing myself the
time to consider it longer, stabbed the blade into my own leg. It went in deep
and I grunted, holding back a scream, but I held the dagger there firmly until
the colors and shapes of the world shifted back into place and the foreign thoughts
faded to the background. It was all lost in a sea of insurmountable pain. My
instinctive mind knew what it needed to be focusing on now.

Traken hissed
sharply, and the stiff horses shifted underneath us, as if spurred by his
thoughts. I resisted the urge to grip the barrel of my horse with my thighs,
aware of the further pain that would cause me, and the unicorn's voice echoed
laughter through the thick air.

“Such a
temper,” she said, lifting her muzzle high. “Reactions like that could put you
in more danger, little fox.”

I heaved in a
shuddering breath, and did not respond. Traken was visibly agitated now.

“Have you had
your fill?” he asked, tearing her attention from me. She tossed her mane back
in a rather dignified fashion.

“This is a
game, isn't it? It doesn't end until someone wins. What is your limit, I
wonder? How far would either of you go to avoid the truth?” She stepped closer
suddenly, a menacing and yet graceful movement. Her children, little eyes
gleaming, leaned forward expectantly. “I believe we are going to have to raise
the stakes.”

Both of us
stilled, and I felt that ominous weight fill my chest again. Valentina and
Phernado still remained unfazed and unresponsive, and that chilled me even
more.

“Auria,” the
unicorn called, turning her long face to the side. One of the children who had
been sitting in the grass braiding the unicorn's mane stirred and stood, a
young girl with golden hair and watery eyes. She grinned adoringly up at the
unicorn, performing a playful and extravagant curtsy with her little gown.  

“Yes ma’am?”
Her voice was small and impish.

“I need a
pawn for the game.”

Those watery
eyes lit. “I will happily oblige, my lady.”

The
thoroughly adult way the little girl spoke surprised me, but what shocked me
even more was when the unicorn lowered the arch of her neck and positioned that
sword-like horn right in front of the girl’s chest. Traken's slumped shoulders
perked as the horn took on a brilliant light, milky white and emerald green,
and began growing brighter and brighter as if stealing light and life into
itself. I thought perhaps we were about to see a brilliant magic, when suddenly
the unicorn lunged forward and impaled the girl straight through the heart.

I jerked as
if I had been struck myself, and accidentally dug the dagger deeper into my own
leg. The pain trembled deep in my throat, but the girl who had been stabbed
through didn’t say a word. She was still as a doll, glassy eyes locked on the
unicorn as she teetered and fell onto the grass with a soft “whump”. Within the
body of my numb thoughts, all I could think was that there was an alarming
absence of blood around and on both of them.

Traken sat
very still beside me, his power building and snapping around him like a second
skin turned storm. He was expecting this to be some sort of attack, but I
wasn't so sure.

“Rise,” sang
the ancient beast to her felled child. I did not see how she possibly could,
but the tiny body reacted to the unicorn's command nonetheless. There was a
slurping sound, and the girl's skin jerked, then shriveled and sagged. It was
not a natural look, like the age-worn skin of the elderly; everything
underneath just seemed to shrink and disappear, leaving behind a filmy shell
that was once a child. It sat like that for a while, a miserable puddle of
nothing at the unicorn's feet, then suddenly erupted outward amid strange
popping sounds. The mass became alive, writhing and groaning, and my heart
caught in my throat. What sort of magic was this? Deathcraft? But even death
magic couldn't possibly do this... I wanted to ask Traken, but there was no
chance. His own magic was crackling louder in my ears, the scent of it burning
my nostrils. He was expecting trouble, but the slump of his tense body told me
he wasn't exactly prepared for it.

A loud
tearing noise ripped through the air, and a mass of muddy organs and insides
that did not look anything like the girl emerged from a slit in the skin. They
made my skin crawl, those muddy pieces of flesh covered in thick mucus, and
they began to unwind from each other, long limbs made of membrane and bone
popping and stretching. The thing was growing bigger than what could have
possibly been inside the skin, towering far over the unicorn and us as well. A
long, snake-like head emerged from the mass, mucus bubbles forming as it opened
its mouth wide, exposing jagged rows of teeth. It wagged its head from side to
side and stumbled over its gangly legs like a newborn experiencing life for the
first time. I felt my throat tighten, halfway to a gag. The thing looked as bad
as it smelled.

“You killed a
child for this?” I asked through gritted teeth, bringing my sleeve to my nose.
Traken was guarding his as well.

“An
interesting reaction,” the unicorn said, regarding me with her glacial gaze.
Her children tittered and grinned around her, a couple of them throwing flower
petals at the monster's feet. “That was not the point of my display, however, so
I will ease your mind. All of mine are immortal, chosen at childhood because of
particular traits I found valuable. This 'child' has been alive longer than
you, and I did not kill her. This is
still
her. She will be one of the
hardships you face.”

Traken's
built-up magic immediately sparked, as if rearing back to attack, but a gentle
tickle of laughter reached our ears.

“Relax
Sorcerer, I will not attack you now. There is a time and place for everything.
You are locked in a maze of confusion and anger... let me bring that fear to
life for you.”

“We don't
have time for this,” he said, a scowl on his face. “But you know that. You are
trying to delay us on purpose.”

“Am I?” the
unicorn asked, stepping forward again as her bloodless horn twinkled at us. Why
was there no blood? “Or are
you
the one causing the delay, Sorcerer?
Maybe I am just doing exactly what you want me to.”

The forest
was suddenly growing very blurry, red flowers twinkling in and out of my
vision, and no amount of pain from the dagger in my leg would subside it. I
heard Traken make a sound, maybe to protest, but his power smoldered and faded
against my skin as the blurriness turned to blackness, and my whole body seemed
to be floating in timeless, bottomless nothingness. I was still aware, awake,
but I hung limp in the empty space like a dreamer woken early who could not
move.

I don't know
what happened. Time passed, or maybe it didn't, and when sight finally returned
I was lying on a patch of soft grass staring up at fluffy white clouds that covered
the glow of a warm sun. One of my arms was twisted strangely, though not
painfully, underneath me, and the other was thrown across a prone Traken.

I stirred
slowly and hazily, as if from a blissfully dreamless sleep, and shook him a bit
as soon as I had the sense to. He growled in his throat as if he were in dog
form, and his heavy eyelids opened slowly and reluctantly. I thought perhaps
maybe he really had fallen asleep, the way he blinked and his brow furrowed.

Sitting up
revealed the reality of our situation, and welcomed back in all the wariness
that had slipped away. We were sitting in a wide spot of open grass, surrounded
on three sides by tall, thick bushes that had to be double my height. They made
a fence that couldn't be seen through, and the only way out was the opening
ahead, which split off into two different directions.

“A
labyrinth,” I found myself saying, voice low and husky with caution. “She
literally stuck us in a maze.” At least there was still the comforting weight
of my swords on my back, though they sat silent and heavy like lifeless steel.

They will
stay that way while in my forest
,
the unicorn's voice whispered inside my skin, startling me so badly that I went
into a coughing fit just to cover the fact that I had flinched.
There is no
place for their anger here. I have put them to sleep, and we shall consider
that your handicap in this game. After all, there must always be rules to make
things fair. The goal is simple: reach the end and I’ll let both of you out the
other side of my forest, safe and sound.

Traken sat up
beside me, suddenly aware and scowling again. Apparently she was speaking to
both of us this time.

“How do we
know you'll even play fair, Unicorn?” he asked.

There
would be no point to the game otherwise, and no lesson learned. There is always
a way out. On that note, there is one more rule...the gods have been giving
this week, have they not, Sorcerer? Your powers are flowing through your veins
like wine, but if you use your sorcery here you will regret it. I will be
forced to tell your companion a secret you would not want her to know.

My head
snapped instantly to Traken, but he didn't meet my gaze. His lips had fallen
into a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

It means
prove to me that your kind is capable of learning. Ask yourselves why you are
here at all. I'll be watching.
The unicorn's voice pelted us with a chorus of mirth.
Good luck, humans.

We sat in
silence for moments after, and her voice did not return. For my part, I was
focusing my most intimidating looks at the sorcerer sitting next to me. He was
staring at his hands, brow creased, refusing to look up.

“Well?” I
prompted.

“Well,” he
said, as if we were at a point of finality in a conversation we hadn't had.
“Looks like we'll have to find our way through this thing.”

He stood and
I tried to stand too, so focused on dragging him into this conversation whether
he wanted it or not that I forgot there was still a dagger in my upper thigh. I
fell back onto the grass unpleasantly, and caught the quick jerk of movement
out of the corner of my eye as Traken almost reached out to stop me from falling.
That strange reaction, hastily covered up, dulled the pain as it brought back a
reminder of the unicorn's words.
He's afraid? Afraid of what?

With great
care, and only a moment of mental preparation, I yanked the dagger from my skin
and immediately pressed down on the wound. Blood seeped through my fingers, and
the spot throbbed. I hissed against the tension rising in my shoulders and
throat.

Traken stared
down at me dispassionately. “Why would you even consider stabbing yourself in
the leg?”

“I suppose it
occurred to me I hadn't been stabbed there in a while, and I needed to right
that injustice,” I growled, equally displeased with him at the moment. To my surprise,
a quirk of a smile stretched across his face, then vanished.

“Need help
then?” he asked almost perkily, kneeling again at my side. For a moment I
thought he would heal me with that pleasant golden light, and I suspect he
thought so too... but then he stopped, that annoying crease appearing on his
brow, and just stared hard at the wound instead. I threw my pack off with one
arm and motioned towards it, one eyebrow up.

“This is how
we do it the old-fashioned way. There's a roll of cloth bandages at the bottom.
Dig it out for me.”

He did, and
handed it over silently.

“I don't mind
not being dependent on you for healing and such,” I said as I unrolled the
cloth, “because I obviously can survive without it...but when we're in an
enchanted forest with a powerful unicorn, stuck in her maze, it isn't exactly a
good time to be questioning things. What exactly are you hiding from me, Dogboy?”

Traken
flashed a grin that wasn't as positively sharp as his usual variety.