Janeen Ippolito
Humans are peculiar creatures. Also, on occasion, unspeakably cruel creatures.
I should know, for humans made me, cobbled me together in a laboratory in the depths of Erskinel. The Place of Marvels, they called it. The place of devils, more like. More died in Erskinel than ever saw the light of day and the applause of the crowd.
Never for the creature, of course. Always for the creator, the mad scientist who concocted a crazy scheme of magic and technology until the experiments eventually stopped failing. They were patient, these scientists. They had all the time in the world, with their long lives which were also the result of their callous research.
I cannot recall how long they’d kept me in that hideous place with the harsh white lights, the spoiled lemon stench of preservatives with the undertone of rancid flesh. Every morning, I woke in my tiny cage, barely large enough to stretch my wings, and glared at the humans striding by in bleached white aprons and coveralls. Sometimes they would stop by my cage and dare to stick a few of their gloved fingers through the wire squares, as if to pet me.
Amusing. Even after numerous singed fingers from my flames, the humans at this odious establishment still thought of me as their pet, some form of lucky token to their scientific achievements. All because I had managed to survive the hideous experiments that gave me the glimmering golden scales nestled in my orange fur and the magnificent wings emerging from my shoulder blades.
As if the humans could take credit for such marvels. I had no concept of a higher power then—and my attentiveness to such is still tenuous—but I had no intention of holding any gratitude toward the terrible individuals who had inflicted such pain on me. No, I would only use those attributes to escape, at precisely the right time.
Which couldn’t conflict with my meals or daily nap time. Such things are important as well. Let those go, and you lose all sense of civility entirely.
As it happened, the unicorns did some of the job for me. Courteous of them. Of course, I would have figured out a way on my own eventually, but capitalizing on opportunities is the mark of excellence. So then, when they raided the laboratory with neighs like screeches of the dying and pounding hooves like thunder, I was ready. Those silver horns, gilded black with some kind of liquid, were more than sufficient to break through the extensive locks on my cage, and the mixture of unicorns in hoof form and skin form attacking all parts of the room was quite impressive.
Until one of the brutes got a bit carried away and stabbed at me, not merely the wire grid that held me. The horn pierced my gut, loosing more entrails and blood than I realized I had. A most undignified but deeply felt mewl escaped me as I puddled at the bottom of my cage, all thoughts of fleeing vanishing in the overwhelming waves of pain. So much for a convenient rescue. After all this time of waiting and scheming, I was reduced to a pile of fur and scales and whimpers. My disappointment was as keen as my shock, although both were quite overtaken by the shadows of unconsciousness blurring the world around me.
The last sight I remembered before darkness claimed me was the vague outline of an olive-toned face, a frown, and violet eyes.
Then all disappeared and good riddance to it.
By life or by death, at least I wouldn’t be in that horrid laboratory any more.
When I awoke, I was entrapped in a new cage. A most unusual one, for it held me prisoner without any wires or electricity. Somehow, this terrible device kept me hostage with invisible pressure on all parts of my body. Even my vision was limited to what shaky images I could see from lifting my head a fraction.
Well, at least I could do that much. Perhaps if I could only summon a flame, I would have a small chance of escape.
<You aren’t a prisoner.>
If I’d had any mobility, I would have leaped at the sound in my mind. And then pretended like I had done nothing unusual, because of course I could never be surprised.
Now was the time for a spectacular flame of peril. I managed to open my mouth a portion, inhaled through an aching chest—and coughed with the might of a tiny mouse.
Rubbish.
<Foolish animal. You’re still healing!> Soft laughter sounded from above me, and a face appeared in front of me. After a few careful blinks, the wavy shapes coalesced into a sharp face with violet eyes, black hair, and pointed ears that stuck out from his head. A child’s face.
A young human? No, he smelled different. More like grass and shadows and a tinge of blood. Curiously, none of it set my teeth on edge. Which only increased my nerves.
I hissed weakly. <Go away, you miserable child.>
His dark olive forehead wrinkled. <You want to die then?>
My pulse jolted. The little upstart had heard me! I had a voice. I could talk to humans.
Then I gave the child another look. A bone-colored horn only a few inches long poked out in the middle of his forehead. So he wasn’t human?
A memory of screeching neighs and floor-shaking hooves filled my mind. Was the boy a unicorn? But he wore the garb of human bone and skin, not fur and four legs.
The boy was still talking <…my skill is the only thing keeping you alive. The others didn’t want to waste resources healing a mere cat, even if they did accidently stab you. Although, are you a cat or a dragon? No, I suppose you’re both, aren’t you?>
<Yes. I am magnificently both.>
He snorted. <I would say impossibly both.>
<I didn’t come here to be insulted by a child.>
<You didn’t come here at all. You were rescued during my first raid on the gods and brought to our healing facilities at great risk.>
<A most fortuitous escape on my part.> I twitched my whiskers. <The gods? What’s a god? You mean the humans?>
<Yes, the humans who experiment and torture so many so that they can try to make themselves gods. And they already call themselves gods, so we do too. It’s shorter and a handy insult. Not all humans are evil. All gods?> The unicorn boy shrugged. <They are all bad. So the herd says, in any case.>
My mouth widened in a jaw-wrenching yawn, and my eyelids were inexplicably heavy. This prison was more powerful than any other.
Unless it wasn’t a prison, and instead I was merely coping with the aftereffects of a misplaced unicorn stab. The second was more likely. But that didn’t mean I should submit to my injury with any sort of joy. After all, the other beasts had wounded me.
Something touched the area around my ears with a gentle scratch. A purr rumbled within me despite myself. <How long must I stay here?>
<You’re still not healed all the way. Maybe another few weeks. Maybe sooner, if Maira will just shift into skin form and assist me.> His face fell. <But she’s still too scared.>
My head was far too heavy. Perhaps the child had misplaced something and put extra weights in my skull. Perhaps I was simply exhausted from the escape. The rescue. In any case, I rested entirely on the surface, realizing for the first time that I had been laid on a soft cushion. For that, I could forgive the unicorn boy his attitude. Slightly.
Still, I needed to escape completely and live entirely of my own volition. Only then I would be free. <Maybe as I improve, I could speak with her.>
<You can try.> The unicorn boy still looked glum. <I don’t even get to see her all the time. She’s very stubborn.>
<So am I.>
<We’ll see.> He started disappearing. No, that must have been my faulty vision again. <I’m Lirome Ukerys. What’s your name?>
<…I…don’t have…one.>
Belatedly, I realized I should have said that I didn’t need one. That would have been far stronger.
I would amend my statement the next time I woke.
For the present, I surrendered to the darkness and comfort.
It would be a full week before I was able to leave the cushioned healing area. During that time I slept a lot, ate when it suited my appetite, drank an absurd amount of water, and in general enjoyed one of the most commodious, civil styles of living I had ever experienced. My space was at least six times larger than the horrid cage at the laboratory and allowed me to extend my wings fully on either side without touching the walls. Truly remarkable.
Of course, I never told Lirome that, especially since the troublesome unicorn boy continued to visit me, speak with me, and—by far the worst part—examine my body for healing. I could have endured the conversation, even if he refused to acknowledge my brilliance. But a cat-dragon has certain boundaries, and that child blithely ignored them in his quest to ensure I was in top-quality shape.
Awful little thing. Yes, I submitted to his ministrations, but only because it would allow me to visit with his sister soon. And once I visited with her and convinced her to shift, then the remainder of my healing would be far quicker and easier. Then I could leave these over-generous, horn-headed creatures and be on my way.
Finally, on the eighth day, Lirome allowed me to leave the facility. Yes, my departure was cradled in his arms, but even a dignified fellow such as myself must endure such things. And it wasn’t all that terrible. We walked down a long hallway of plain cream walls and tiled floor, with many doors to rooms that I desperately needed to investigate before I left. Other unicorns walked past, bowing their heads and touching their horns in a gesture of respect, for Lirome was apparently of some notable lineage among his people. I congratulated myself on having the cleverness to be cared for by a child of noble blood. It almost excused the invasive examinations.
Almost.
We walked through a clear entryway that seemed to shimmer then emerged into a forest glade. The air was rich with warmth and growing things, and a gentle breeze stirred my coat. I turned my face into something bright and filled with concentrated heat.
The sun. This was the sun. I knew instantly that we would be very good friends. A part of me wanted to immediately sprawl on the ground and have a restorative nap.
But there would be plenty of time for such things after I escaped.
<This is my sister’s special place. Only she and I can come here. No other unicorns.> Lirome paused for a moment, eying me speculatively. <You’re not a unicorn, so I’m technically not breaking the rules.>
<Certainly not.>
He bobbed his head in an awkward nod. <All right. I’ll call her over, and you can try to talk with her. One bit of unhappiness from Maira, and you’re not coming out here again. Ever.>
The fur on my back rose at the fierceness in Lirome’s tone. Usually he maintained a steady, thoughtful demeanor with occasional inappropriate humor, often at my expense for reasons I still couldn’t fathom. But now, I knew that one wrong move and my plan to convince his sister to shift would be completely undone.
I adjusted myself in his arms until I sat up straight. This required great concentration and skill. A thread of doubt wound through me, and I curled my tail around my feet. My entire life had been devoted to pushing away others and making them fear me. Could I coax this scared unicorn girl into trusting me instead?
Did I even know how?
Hooves rustled in nearby bushes. My whiskers twitched, and my claws emerged from my paws just enough to give me traction.
Then the most exquisite creature I had ever seen walked into the glade. Black fur and mane, a bone-colored horn, and a long face that was both sharp and sensitive. Her head turned, and her violet eyes studied me, the whites showing around the edges. Her small, delicate hooves tripped at the ground, and her ears flicked around. Clearly nervous, from the signs Lirome had explained to me. He still refrained from telling me why. Some nonsense about it being my job to find out, since I was so clever.
Petulant child. At that moment, I would have given anything to know what made this graceful unicorn filly so wary.
<Lirome? What animal is that?>
I lifted my head up. <Not what. Who.>
She snorted and backed up a few steps, her ears flat. <A shifter? I haven’t learned about shifters that look like you. I’ve only learned about seals, wolves, dragons, and unicorns.>
<There are no others like me. And I don’t even know if I can shift.>
Maira tossed her head. <It isn’t all that special. I’m never doing it again.>
Above me, Lirome sighed. <Maira…>
<I won’t!> She stomped the ground. <If this is all you’ve come to talk about, Lirome, then I’ll go back to grazing. The silvagrass is particularly tasty right now.>
Bickering would not do. It was time to take control of this situation. <If you please, I only wanted to get to know you more.>
<Why?> She stepped closer to me again. <You’re planning on using me. Don’t lie about it. I can feel it from you.>
Unicorns were empaths? I dug my claws into Lirome a little deeper. He had been reading my feelings this entire time and never told me. Another mark against him. There was nothing to do now but tell the unicorn girl the truth. <Forgive me. Yes. I want to leave and journey on my own, and in order to speed my healing, I came here to convince you to shift and assist your brother.>
<Assist him?> Maira walked even closer, until her nose was inches from me. <More like he would assist me.>
She inhaled, sniffing me. Since the girl had initiated, I reciprocated, inhaling a similar scent to her brother: grass, shadows, that tinge of blood. An additional undertone of fresh dew. Even by breathing it in, I felt stronger. Her magic was far stronger than any other I had ever encountered. Even Lirome’s.
An odd surge of satisfaction both foreign and familiar came over me, along with a deep purr. I could never imagine living apart from that scent. I never wanted to. Wherever the unicorn girl went, I would be at her side.
Shock rippled through me at the ridiculous turn of my thoughts. In a few weeks, I would be a free cat-dragon, able to follow my own course! Why would I commit to the safety of a fearful unicorn child?
I poked at the resolve that had so recently formed within me. It wouldn’t budge. Bother it all. Maybe after Maira healed me, it would disappear.
For her part, the unicorn girl whickered softly and nudged my head with her nose. <You can stay. I won’t shift. But you can stay. Both of you, for at least a little while.>
She nudged Lirome as well, backed away, and began nibbling at the grass.
<Thank you.> The unicorn boy set me on the ground, removed his robe, then shifted to hoof form and stood next to his sister. For my part, I curled up in a patch of sunlight and closed my eyes.
Step one was accomplished. Maira had accepted me.
Now all I had to do was get her to talk about what scared her, see that it was all silly nonsense, and get her to shift.
After a nap in this delightful warmth.
It took another few days before Maira gave me the opportunity to ask about her fear. In the meanwhile, I rested, recuperated, and enjoyed sprawling in the sunshine. Sometimes Lirome would leave me there with her, but more often than not, he would stick around as well, shifting into his hoof form and spending time with his sister. It didn’t take unicorn empathy to detect how much he missed her. Unicorns as a whole seemed to be a clannish sort.
Which meant Maira’s segregation was unhealthy for her and the rest of her people. The thought grieved my heart for some inexplicable reason. Although I was hardly a heartless cat-dragon. Why wouldn’t I care about a depressed unicorn? Of course, I cared about the girl, but no more than was reasonable.
She still needed to shift.
At last, one day it rained. I found the vile droplets from the sky most disagreeable. While the unicorns were unmoved at first, when the shower increased to a storm, complete with thunder and lightning, the siblings also grew restless. By that time, we had all moved from the main area in the glade to travel deeper into the forest, so instead of Lirome and me returning to the healing facility, Maira led us to a pavilion tucked between several broad tree trunks.
Well, led is a gentle term. Galloped like a raving mad girl intent on escaping a death knell was more accurate. When we reached her, Maira was shivering in a corner of the pavilion.
She shook out her mane. <Horrible storms. Uncontrollable. Just like in…>
I leapt on her words. <Just like what?>
<…my dream.>
A dream? The soggy state of my fur worsened my irritation. All of this fuss was over a dream? How foolish could this girl be? Lirome stomped his hoof perilously close to my right paw. I glared up at him, and the boy returned it. It was terribly inconvenient to have them reading my emotions all this time.
Maira gave a mental chuckle. <Dreams are the lifeblood of our kind, cat-dragon. They come infrequently, and each one is a true portent for the future.>
<Ah. And yours involved rain? Very disagreeable. Must have put you out quite a bit.> See? I could be quite sympathetic.
A low, sad whinny emerged from her, and then a long period of silence. <I beheld the doom of the great city of Glenalis and the destruction of all. Blood and rainstorm and great clashes of lightning until one could barely see. And I at the middle of the storm, in skin form, standing in a small circle of absolute quiet, watching as the one I cared for deeply was utterly destroyed. All of it my fault.>
Lirome fell completely silent. For my part, there were only more questions. <One you cared for deeply? How?>
<Unlike my caring for you, and unlike my bond with Lirome. Something entirely different and irresistible and vulnerable.>
<Was he a unicorn? A human?>
Maira turned away from both of us. <A god.>
That stole my words as well. That this sweet girl would be entangled somehow with a god, would rue the downfall of one of their kind, would desire him in such a strange way—it was preposterous. I hissed, my fur sticking up on end. It must be some kind of dark magic, to taint her perceptions and twist her mind so. The gods were what those evil humans who tormented me called themselves. They stole magic, they broke Talents, they tortured others for their own gain.
That the unicorn girl would destroy their vast city of Glenalis and crush their kingdom was a great and noble thing. That she would fall in love with a god was disturbing and vile. How could two destinies be wound in the same dream?
<It can’t possibly be true,> I snapped.
<I received the dream during my time honoring the great All-Maker at the temple. It is true.> Maira’s voice was soft. <But now you understand. If I never shift into skin form, then the dream will be thwarted.>
Lirome walked over to her and hung his head over her back with a gentle whicker. <Yes, but then you won’t destroy their terrible kingdom. So many people will die. It’s awful what they do to people, Maira.>
<And if I do shift, then I somehow betray all of my kind by taking up in some way with a god. And I will lose their trust forever. How am I to rule and lead them with that kind of destiny?>
Lead? More pieces fell into place in my mind. The reason Maira’s magic was so great. The reason why Lirome was held as nobility. His sister was a form of queen. A ruler who was abdicating her throne for the sake of a doomsaying, because she feared either way, she would be alone. Better to choose loneliness now than be cast aside in the future.
A shortsighted vision, especially if the dream proved true. So what if she would be alone? I had been alone so much of my life, and no one cared. Her loneliness might finally bring down the evil we all feared. My irritation and anger must have been violent, for her ears flicked back.
She said, <You still choose isolation, you foolish cat-dragon.>
<So do you. But in your case, the fate of many rests on you accepting this dark future. Is your potential pain truly so much more important?>
<Yours is. At least to you.>
Her words stabbed my heart, far more cruelly than even the unicorn horn. What was this feeling that curled my tail and made me want to hide away? Guilt. Shame. Both of them unfamiliar and decidedly unpleasant emotions that could leave any time they wished.
Yet both of them lingered like heavy stones in my stomach.
Lirome turned his head away from his sister and glared at me. <Leave, cat-dragon. You aren’t helping.>
I stared at him a moment longer. The boy dared think he could order me about? I spat and walked over to the edge of the pavilion. Not leaving at all, merely ridding myself of his presence. What did I care that he was displeased or that his sister’s dream was gloomy?
None of it was my concern.
And yet, as I curled up to have a good sulk, the stones of guilt and shame sank deeper into my stomach and were joined by a third stone that I liked least of all.
Regret.
After the rainy afternoon, Lirome refused to take me out to meet his sister anymore. He also refused to speak with me more than necessary. Apparently I had quite outlived my welcome, which was just as well for me. Even without Maira’s additional assistance, I would be leaving the healing facility soon enough. The exquisite unicorn girl could go and rot away in her hidden glade, ignoring her opportunity to stop the pain of so many.
None of that mattered to me. I would just leave when my time was up and travel alone. Finally free of humans and gods and unicorns. Able to hunt small creatures to my heart’s content and answer to no one.
Yes, that suited me just fine.
Unfortunately, the stones in my stomach only grew heavier, and more were added to their number each day. Pity for Maira, who carried such a heavy doom on young shoulders. Admiration for her brother, who remained loyal to her even when she refused to see him. And that same strong, inexplicable devotion that had struck me from the moment I laid eyes on her. An invisible rope tying me to her, no matter what other plans I had made.
She was my unicorn. Lirome might have found me and rescued me, so he claimed, but I wanted to find her and heal her until she was better. I wanted to push her until she did something meaningful with her life and purpose. I was only a cat-dragon, stripped of everything that made me valuable, mutilated in a laboratory, and certainly incapable of doing anything useful.
But I could help the unicorn girl. That would be useful. It would also be a dangerous threat to my freedom, but somehow, I doubted Maira would demand more than I could give. Her weakness seemed to be expecting less of others, not too much of them.
After a while, the heaviness in my gut made it hard to eat, even though I had plenty of space in my stomach. My heart was far too consumed to hold any appetite. Finally, even Lirome noticed and asked after me.
<I want one more chance to see your sister and speak with her.>
The boy’s eyes narrowed. <You are nearly healed, cat-dragon. You won’t need her help.>
<I want…> The words stuck in my mind.
His violet eyes flashed blood red. <You want a lot of things and give nothing in return.>
<I want to change that. I want to try and get Maira to shift.>
Lirome snorted. <You can’t even shift yourself. It was stupid to think you would be able to help her.>
I hissed and clawed at him. <I’ve never tried!>
The words spun in my mind, disorienting me enough that I had to sit down. Lirome kept talking, but his conversation was meaningless now. Everything was meaningless except for the truth I had somehow missed. I might be able to shift. Then I could have even more freedom. Then I could open all of those doors in the hallway myself and see what lay behind them.
And I’d be able to protect Maira far better than a cat-dragon. My unicorn would be safe, whether I was cuddled in her arms or fighting by her side.
<…you’re connected with her, aren’t you?> Shock had overtaken Lirome’s acerbic tone. <I didn’t think it was possible.>
My tail flicked back and forth. The boy always interrupted a good train of thought. <Not in a kissing sense, if that’s what you’re referring to.>
Yes, I knew about kissing. Laboratory scientists did that on occasion, sneaking around in the dark. Touching mouths looked both absurd and disgusting.
Lirome nodded in empathy, his expression twisting. <I agree, kissing sounds gross. I wasn’t talking about that. There are other kinds of bonds. I think you might have one of them. It’s not a bad thing. She’s my twin sister, so we have an especially close family bond. Yours could be something like that.>
<Family.>
Another peculiar word, but unlike kissing, it was far more pleasant-sounding. It meant home. It meant not being caught unawares. It meant always connected. The ideas sent shivers up my spine that were both pleasurable and terrifying.
But it was too late now. Maira needed my help, and I knew that even if I tried to leave, in the end, I’d turn around and search for her.
I’d even search for Lirome, though I fervently hoped he would never know that. Somehow, the glint in his eyes showed it was already too late. He scooped me up and walked toward the transparent screen. After walking through, he set me on the ground. A few moments later, Maira trotted in. As soon as she saw me, her nostrils flared, and she gave a screechy neigh.
<What are you doing here?>
Even as a filly, she was far larger than me. My heart pounded, and my tail twitched wildly. Nevertheless, I sauntered forward, fixing her with a firm stare.
<I’m here to help you. We’re going to shift today.>
She threw her head back. <I told you, no—hold on, we’re going to shift?>
<Yes. You and I both. Together.>
<Can you shift into skin form?>
I gave a rusty meow, projecting all of my natural confidence. <Certainly. I’ve just never tried.>
Maira turned her head, glancing over at Lirome. <Is this possible?>
<The cat-dragon is very certain.>
<Yes, but why now?> She took a step forward and looked down at me again. <You seem well enough. Why remain here?>
Drat. The unicorn girl was going to make me admit it. I could see the determination in her eyes. She wouldn’t accept any of my usual, quite accomplished bluster. Well then, if I was going to do a confession, then I would do it my way.
<You’re my unicorn, and I will not have you jeopardizing a promising future where you kill our common enemy simply because you are afraid of your future and of being alone. You won’t be alone. I don’t care what that rubbish dream says. I will be there, somehow.>
Each word was another nail in the coffin that held my freedom. But at this moment, that didn’t matter. I was certain I would have moments of extreme resentment later on, but I was also certain that those moments wouldn’t last. Most of all, I was certain that the girl would be equally loyal to me. That even Lirome would continue to care for and about me.
Both of those certainties frightened me almost as much as the whole situation. But I wasn’t going to back down now. I would appear even more foolish than I felt.
Maira gave a nicker that was almost a chuckle. <You would thwart destiny itself?>
<Yes. Why not? I’m far cleverer than some mere concept.>
<Very well. You first.>
I padded even closer to her, right next to her hooves. <No. Together.>
<Hmph. All right.>
<…all right?>
Her violet eyes studied me. <Yes. Let’s shift. I’m certain you know this, wise cat-dragon, but in order to shift, you must completely let go of one form to receive the other, and the exchange takes place in the Nether, a magical space Between. The first time is said to be a kind of death, until you get used to it.>
My claws emerged, slicing the ground as fear trickled through my brave face. <A kind of death?>
<Oh, a silly thing said by a poet. I’m not even sure a creature like you will notice anything special at all. Just let go and feel through the other side to your skin form.>
Yes. Quite right. Feel through the other side to my skin form. That seemed entirely sensible and tenable. Certainly.
<One.>
I closed my eyes, thinking back to the endless years in the laboratory. The excruciating experiments, the noxious smells, the screams of other victims.
And I let them go. I released the horrors.
<Two.>
I thought back to the unicorn attack. To waking up in the healing facility and verbally sparring with Lirome, a child with the knowledge of someone far older and a deep compassion beneath his quiet wit. I remembered his examinations with careful, thorough fingers. He didn’t know how much others before him had hurt me.
And I let the resentment go. I released the scars.
<Three.>
I saw Maira. The first time, a half-grown, exquisite creature filled with fear. A serious young unicorn, carrying the weight of a terrifying destiny that held so much hope for shifters but so much cost to her. I heard the sharp sounds of her laughter in my mind.
And I let everything go.
My body crunched into pieces, broken down into the tiniest bits, bone and marrow and skin reshaping and undoing into something else. A pained yowl ripped out my throat as I lost my wings, my tail, everything that I had known as myself for the last untold years. All of it disappearing into the Nether, replaced instantaneously with something larger and stronger. And strange, oh so strange. Fingers and feet and nails instead of paws and claws. Far finer hair instead of thick fur, except at the top of my head. No whiskers, no wings.
Only bare skin and a vantage point that was far, far taller than I was accustomed to. The world tilted beneath my feet, and I fell to my knees then crouched.
Someone wrapped something soft and warm around me, a large robe.
<It’s all right,> Lirome said. I glanced over at him. Instead of being taller, he was a few inches shorter and even more clearly a child next to my full-grown stature. <It can be hard the first time, and I’d think especially so if you were in your scale form all of those years.>
A small hand touched my other knee, comfort and invigorating magic flowing from the contact. I glanced over to see a girl, appearing the same age as Lirome, wrapped in a robe. She had long black hair, pointed ears, a bone horn emerging from her forehead, and a sharp face with twinkling violet eyes.
Her, I knew instantly as my unicorn. My charge.
She grinned. <You weren’t what I expected from my dream.>
<…from your…dream?>
Maira’s grin widened, and she shrugged. <Yes. You were there too, in my arms in your scale and fur form. Assuring me that somehow, everything would be all right. That no matter what I endured, you would make it all right and help me find those who mattered most. I recognized your voice the moment you spoke.>
My mouth dropped open. Egads, my mouth! What had happened to my teeth? They were blunt and useless. <You never said anything!>
The girl lifted her chin archly, looking every inch the spritely leader. <I wasn’t in a good frame of mind, and you weren’t either. I decided to wait until events sorted themselves out. And they did.>
At my other side, Lirome chuckled. <Maybe you shouldn’t have shifted back. You’re just as tricky in this form.>
<It’s too late now, brother of mine.> She made a gesture that I assumed was rude, because he mock-glared at her and made the gesture back. <Ademis is here, and now I think I’m quite ready to take up my leader job again.>
<Ademis?> The word sounded unfamiliar, but at the same time, resonated within me as uniquely mine. <Where did you find that name?>
<I called you it in my dream. It means “noble mischief.” I think it suits you. Do you agree?>
Hesitation overtook Maira’s confidence, and she played with the tie to her robe. Well, let the little unicorn sit in her dread for a moment. I still needed to catch up with everything that she had just revealed. The minx had outwitted me at my own game, all to position me for the greater good.
If I hadn’t already been committed to her cause, I would have clawed her face off.
As it stood, I had to admit the name had a certain ring to it. A name for a cat-dragon with a person, a family, a place in the world. Yes, it would suit.
<Ademis it is.>
She grinned again. <Good!>
I agreed. It was very good.