CHAPTER THREE

Strange Folk

If I had been older, I would have been scared. Instead, I was strangely impressed with myself, that I had crawled so far and so fast without noticing. I would have started looking for the clearing, but just then, there was a rush of silver and a unicorn galloped past me at full speed.

A moment later, a slender tree trunk a bit ahead of me shattered. The tree crashed over, and the fallen canopy of leaves shivered into stillness.

How could a tree shatter? I walked forward quickly. Splinters of fresh, white wood surrounded the base of the trunk like a sunburst. Near the core of the tree, where its strength had lain, lodged a metal ball, the size of a goat’s eye. I reached out and felt faint heat radiating from it. Before I could touch the ball, I heard the scuffle of leaves and a full-throated, masculine yell.

Victor or Julian?

I crouched down behind the stump. A young man, a hunter, ran up to where I had been standing moments before. The shredded tree behind which I cowered wasn’t wide enough to shield me entirely, but even so, I was safe for a short time. He gazed around wildly for the unicorn, his eyes well above where I hid. In his hands was a long metal pipe that ended in a wooden handle. He pointed it around like I had seen men aiming crossbows. “How did I miss?” he muttered to himself. “I had her right in my sights. I never miss.”

With a curse, he set the pipe-thing against the tree and took out a great hunting knife, with which he prised the metal ball from the tree. I watched the strange man, too frightened to move. His jacket and pantaloons were made of ragged, wine-dark velvet, worn patchy and streaked with mud. The fine linen shirt at the gaping throat of his jacket was yellowed with sweat, yet had an edging of fine lace. The thick rings on his grimy fingers were gold. His dark hair and beard had once been carefully tended, but now were growing overlong. As he took some grey-black powder from a horn case and rammed it and the metal ball down the pipe, the expression on the young hunter’s burnished, straight-nosed face was proud and angry.

Though I was scared for the unicorn, I was more frightened for myself. I prayed he would jog off without ever seeing me, but I had no luck. A bit of the powder drifted down, and the strange, acrid smell made me sneeze.

He looked down. “Elizabeth?”

I gave a gasp and crouched lower to the ground. I had never seen this man before, yet he seemed familiar, somehow. Worse, the sneer curling his lips looked anything but friendly. The hunter contemplated his weapons, the killing-tube in his hands and the knife at his waist. He settled for leaning over me, fists on his hips.

“You nasty little cat. Do you know how long I’ve been in here, because of you?”

I shook my head. He was mad, I was frightened, and so this was a time to get away. I shifted the weight on my hands and knees so I could shuffle a little backwards.

“Oh, no you don’t.” One hand shot out and grabbed me by the hair. I whimpered and brought my hands up, hoping to sink my nails into his wrist.

“You’re the one who finds unicorns, and now you’re going to find one for me.”

“I’m not! I won’t!” What was he talking about? Had the Helders gossiped? It had only been that one time! “Let me go!” My scratching didn’t seem to bother him. I needed to find another way to free myself.

“Don’t lie.” He gave me a little shake. “Well, now you’re going to help me make my fortune and get me out of this damned forest.”

Instead I kicked him, hard, on the inside of his knee. In his surprise, his grip loosened and I scrambled away. A few seconds and he would be coming after me, and he was so much bigger than I was.

“Elizabeth! Get back here!”

There was a giant boulder ahead, fringed by massive cedar trees. I dodged behind it.

My scar-shouldered unicorn stood there, patiently breathing in the fresh, spicy smell of the cedars. Was she the unicorn I had seen bolt past me? She gave a jerk of her chin at a pile of smaller boulders, as if inviting me to come climb onto her. As I slung my leg over her back, I ran my hand up from her scarred shoulder to her withers. My racing heart slowed a little. Cautiously, the doe-unicorn stepped out from the screen of the trees.

“Look out!”

The young hunter was waiting, but even so, my unicorn was faster than he. She struck out with her forelegs, and he dropped his weapon before he could fire.

I dug my hands into the unicorn’s mane as she galloped off. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the young hunter running after us, calling my name. I closed my eyes and pressed into the unicorn’s down. His calling cut off abruptly, and the air grew cool, then chilly.

When I opened my eyes, I thought for a heart-stopping instant that I had fallen into a dream. Somehow, all around us, the branches on the trees were bare and skeletal. Like we had raced from the heat of harvest time into the bitterness of early winter.

The unicorn stopped, and at the unexpected change of pace, I slid sideways off her back, pulling out a handful of white-silver hair from her mane as I tumbled into a carpet of leaves that crackled with frost.

I landed hard on my seat. Tears started from my eyes at the sudden, hard end to our flight. The doe-unicorn snuffled at my hair in apology.

As I tried to stop my tears by rubbing the heel of my hands into my eyes, I heard shrill, panicked bleating and a girl’s murmured, lilting singing in a language I had never heard.

I looked up and scrambled to my feet. Working in our garden had calloused my soles and toes, but I still felt the sting of ice.

“Hello?” I said, uncertainly.

The singing stopped, and a young woman emerged from between two bushes, carrying a wounded, half-grown lamb in her arms. As she stepped closer, I saw that though she looked older than Julian, she was not as old as the hunter. Not quite a woman, then, but a girl.

“Good…evening…” she said a little formally, taking in the sight of me and the doe-unicorn. I saw that she had thick, dark, curling hair like me, but braided into a sort of crown on top of her head. She was wearing a shirt and trousers of greyish white and a shearling coat. She had a satchel slung over one shoulder and she wore sheepskin boots to protect her feet from the cold.

I burst into tears. “There’s a hunter. He tried to get us. We had to run away.” As if in sympathy, the lamb gave out a shrill, shivering bleat. It was damp, with a bright red stain spreading over one haunch.

“Chuu,” the girl crooned. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s no one in this part of the forest.” Though she had a strong, sing-song accent, she chose her words with confidence.

“Please!”

The girl’s eyes flicked from the unicorn to me. “I did not see anyone. You are safe here. But my lamb is not.” She knelt and laid the lamb down on the forest floor.

“What happened to you?” I asked, joining the girl beside the lamb. It was a little, pathetic thing, and obviously did not belong in the forest.

“My…sheeps…were attacked by a zhar-turgul.”

“What’s a zhar-turgul?”

“A…hunting bird. A bird that hunts.”

“A hawk?”

She nodded. “Like a hawk, but bigger. Its name, in your tongue, means firebird.” She continued. “The zhar-turgul picked up this little sheep, but I threw a rock and hit him. The zhar-turgul dropped the lamb on the other side of the river. I followed her.”

River? There was a little creek by our campsite, but nothing with a strong current. Yet now, if I strained my ears, I heard something deep and rushing.

“Where’s your flock now? Did the hawk get them?”

“They are safe. My friend is with them,” she said simply. “I shouldn’t have come after her.” She patted the lamb’s head. “But I did.”

I peered at the lamb. Its breathing was fast and ragged. It looked as cold as I felt.

“She must be hurting from the fall,” the girl said. “Not just outside, but inside, too.”

I looked behind me, at the unicorn. I remembered what Mrs. Helder had said about the healing power of unicorn horns. What was it called? Alicorn?

“I think you should help her,” I said to the unicorn. “The lamb is very little, so I don’t think it would be hard.”

My unicorn stepped forward and bent her horn to the lamb’s small, shuddering chest. The little animal’s breathing grew steadier and its bleating quieted. The stain seemed to dry and turn brown, as if a wound had closed. After a moment, the lamb lifted its head from the ground, stood up and shook itself. It looked at the girl expectantly, as if to say, “Now what?”

The girl gave a small, wary smile. “Thank you…I should go home now.” She made to pick up her satchel, but I grabbed her wrist in panic.

“No! Don’t! What about the hunter?”

Very gently, she stroked my hand to ease my grip. She ran a finger over the unicorn hair entwined between my fingers. “What’s this you have here?”

“Unicorn hairs. I probably hurt her when I fell off.” And, remembering the hunter gripping my hair, I began to sniffle again. The girl stroked my back.

“Don’t be scared,” she said with a smile. “Here, let me make you a good-luck charm.” Gently unfolding my closed hand, she took three strands of unicorn mane-hairs that had tangled around my fingers and braided them together. She wrapped the cord around my wrist three times and knotted the ends. “Hold them close for a bit,” she said and opened her satchel. Inside, I saw a hairy waterskin, bundles of different sorts of hardy-looking plants, something savoury-smelling in a handkerchief, and a packet of thread and needles. She bit off a length of thread with her teeth, then sewed the knot shut. “There, what do you think?” she said, with a grin.

I gave her a watery smile. “It’s very pretty.” I handed her the rest of the hairs wadded in my hands. “You should have these. You deserve good luck, too.”

“Thank you,” she said, her hand closing over them. “If you’ll let me take them home, I’ll do something better. I’ll weave them into a magic belt and it will protect the person who wears it. A good plan, yes?”

I nodded very quickly. The girl seemed entirely magical to me already. I fell onto her and gave her a tight hug, too tight, I fear, because she very quickly unwrapped my hands from around her neck. She looked a little spooked, but I was desperate for her to like me.

“What’s your name?” I said.

“It’s bad luck to tell a strange creature your name.” The girl laughed, but she seemed just the slightest bit uneasy.

“I’m not a strange creature!”

My answer pleased her. “Isn’t that exactly what a strange creature would say?” she said, half-teasing, half-serious. “But thank you, all the same. I will leave offerings to you.”

“Offerings?”

“What would you like? Milk and bread? Honey cakes?”

If she was offering me supper, I could not object. “I like all of those. Can I have them now?”

She flashed her teeth, against her better judgment, it seemed. “No, I don’t have them with me.”

“Do you live close by? I could come to your house.”

Her smile dimmed, and she gathered her lamb into her arms. “No, let me bring them to you. I should go, before it gets dark. My mother will worry.”

“Mine, too,” I said with sudden realization. For some reason, that made her grin again, as if it was funny to think that I had a mother. Beside me, the unicorn knelt down for me. It was time to go, it seemed.

“If you see the hunter,” I said, “be careful, please.”

She laughed again, and I felt embarrassed. The unicorn turned and set into a fast walk through the dark trees. I felt the wind rise suddenly. The bushes and branches blurred around me, and I wound my fingers tightly into the unicorn’s mane. I closed my eyes and felt the air grow hot with the golden-green light of a summer afternoon. When I opened them, I saw a clearing through the trees. And there it was, the pony cart.

“Ma,” I shouted, “I’m back.”

The unicorn trotted a few steps out of the trees but stayed in the shadows. This time, I dismounted without hurting myself. I kissed the unicorn’s shoulder. “Thank you,” I said, before bolting away. I had learned that Ma did not like me to dawdle around.

I ran to the pony cart where I found not just Ma, but Victor and Julian. I stopped short. There was a box of Ma’s things outside the pony cart, but Ma was sitting on the pony cart’s steps, straight-backed and with her arms crossed.

“Ma?” I said. When she saw me, she leapt down and embraced me. It was a fierce, almost painful hug. It was less pleasant than the mysterious girl’s had seemed, but I loved Ma more. Over her shoulder, I saw Julian shoot Victor an expression of pure relief. Victor looked stern and expressionless.

“I told you she’d come back,” Ma said. “Elizabeth, where have you been? It’s been hours!”

“Then you won’t come with us?” Victor said.

“How could I?”

Victor heaved a short, irritated breath. “Very well. Come along, Julian. We’re not wanted here.”

Ma did not correct him, though she made me curtsy to my uncle and cousin. As I spread my shift as far as it would go, Julian caught sight of the unicorn hairs woven around my wrist.

“What are those?” he said.

But I had grown suspicious within the space of an afternoon. “They’re nothing,” I said.

He shrugged, gave the laziest bow possible, and they rode off into the gloaming.