Unicorn Bait (19 page)

She straightened in her seat and took a deep breath through her nose. She was tired of contemplating this. She wanted it decided. She opened her car door and got out. She walked up to the bank, went to her boss, got her alone in her office, and gave her resignation. She told the woman she was moving away. She was surprised and touched when her boss assured her she would be happy to be a reference for her without prompting. She thanked her and assured her she would and quickly excused herself. She felt tears forming in her eyes. She went to her desk and collected her personal belongings. She told her coworkers that were there of her departure. They expressed surprise and wished her well. She thanked them and went back to her car shaking. She’d done it. She’d quit her job. There was no going back now. The ball was in motion. She started the car and headed to the restaurant to meet up with her girlfriends.

She’d always had friends, but they drifted in and out of her life freely. There was shock at her news but no tears. They eagerly asked about Tavik. She told them a little, enough to confirm their romantic ideas but not enough to shatter them. She suspected they thought she was going to wed a prince and become a princess with a tiara and everything. They made her swear to keep in touch, and she did swear, but her fingers were crossed under the table.

When she let herself back into her apartment, she felt ready to collapse. She’d stopped at the landlord’s to inform him of her departure and that her brother would finish out the lease. Her parents had cosigned with her when she’d gotten the place, so the change of sibling didn’t worry him, especially since the deposit would not have to be refunded or maintenance done. She also paid the next four months of rent, which he happily accepted. He’d wished her good luck on her move. She hung her coat up in the closet and wandered into her living room. She’d been about to call out to Mr. Squibbles but stopped with her mouth open. Bobby stood in her living room with a tape measure extended over the sofa.

“Hey, sis. How’d your day go?” he asked.

“What-What are you doing?”

“Rory’s got a big screen TV, and I’m checking to see where it’d be best to put it.” 

She felt a flash of hurt. Her brother was moving in before she was even gone. Her mother came out of her bedroom. “Welcome back, dear.”

She turned to her mother to complain about the brotherly invasion, but her mother was in on it. She held a stack of towels from her bedroom bathroom, clearly taking them away to give to some shelter or something. Her cozy home was being stripped from her while she stood there.

“I’m really tired,” she told them.

“Then go lie down. We can manage on our own,” her mother assured her.

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She wanted Bobby to put away his tape measure, for her mother to put back the towels, and frankly, for both of them to leave. She moved to her bedroom and flopped onto the mattress. At least her mother hadn’t stripped the sheets yet. She knew that thought was unkind, but couldn’t they be a little more paralyzed with grief over her leaving, instead of pushing her out the door? She closed her eyes, deciding that she was grumpy due to exhaustion, and a nap was clearly in order. She yelped when something crawled onto her stomach.

“Hide me,” Mr. Squibbles said.

She looked down her body at the mouse perched on her abdomen. She hadn’t thought about the possible danger of the mouse with others in her apartment. Her mind suddenly shot to the horn. She’d left it in the kitchen. She scooped up the rodent and raced to retrieve it. Her mother was already there going through the cabinets. The horn sat on the counter where Naomi had left it. She picked it up and turned to go back to her bedroom when she stopped and turned back to look at her mother. She’d been staring into a cabinet a long time.

“Mom?”

Her mother sniffled quietly and turned a watery smile to her. “Go get some rest, dear.”

She moved over to her mother and put her arm around her waist. Her mother leaned her head onto Naomi’s shoulder and sniffled again. “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

“Oh Mom,” she said feeling her lip quiver.

Her mother slipped away from her and pushed softly on her shoulder. “Go get some rest. I mean it. I’ll order us some pizza in a few hours. Your father will stop by, and we’ll have a nice dinner.” 

She lay back down and let Mr. Squibbles crawl onto the bed. She stared blankly at the mouse as he came to sit by her head on her pillow.

“We don’t need to leave so soon,” he reminded her.

“It’s done. We leave tomorrow.” He nodded and didn’t say anymore. She closed her eyes and drifted off. She awoke when her mother came to the door to get her for pizza.

She entered the living room tentatively. All of her furniture seemed to be still there, though rearranged. Her family was gathered around the coffee table with slices already on plates. She took a seat on the couch between her parents and put a plate on her lap.

“Have you taken care of everything?” her mother asked.

She nodded and took a bite. She chewed it slowly. This was her last slice of pizza. This was her last American meal. “I paid for the next four months of rent. Consider it a housewarming present, Bobby.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Thanks, sis.” Maybe she could show Yula how to make pizza. It couldn’t be that hard.

She moved and got her purse. She took out her key ring and dropped it into her brother’s lap. “You can have the car, too.” She knew how to ride a horse now, sort of.

“Sis?” her brother asked. She’d given him practically all of her worldly possessions. She shrugged and retook her seat.

“Can’t take it with me,” she said. The old saying ‘Can’t take it with you’ and what it implied fluttered through her mind. She brushed it aside. Her father sat on the sofa stone faced. His slice of pizza was growing cold in front of him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said.

“Phil,” her mother said.

Naomi turned and looked at him silently. He could be right, but she couldn’t not make this mistake. “I have to do this, Dad.” Her father scrubbed his hand across his face.

“Will you ever come back?” His voice was a touch ragged, and though Naomi doubted her mother and brother truly understood the finality of her departure, her father seemed to have an inkling and was struggling with it. She slung her arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

“I hope so,” she murmured. Her father slipped his arm behind her and rubbed her back. Her mother put her hand on her back too.

“We’ll miss you,” her mother whispered. Naomi nodded mutely. Her throat had closed up. Dinner was a little more somber and quiet, but Naomi wouldn’t have given it up for the world. After her family left, she went to bed. She refused to think about the next day.

She felt criminal as she penned a note to her parents. They’d wanted to send her off. They figured that she would be leaving on a plane. She’d had no way to dissuade them without hurting their feelings or raising their suspicions. She wrote that she had left already because she didn’t want to say good bye. She would contact them if she could but not to worry about her. She was leaving them, but she would have family in the place she going who cared about her and would help her just as much as they had. When she was done, she collected Mr. Squibbles and took up the horn. A stillness had settled over her. Her actions felt like they occurred under water. She held the mouse in the flat of her hand. She brought him up to eye level.

“What should I do?”

“How did it work the last time?”

“I pricked my finger, and the horn absorbed a drop of blood. The next thing I knew I was in Harold's Pass.”

The mouse nodded. “It’s that simple then.”

She set her finger on the horn tip. Mr. Squibbles retreated into her shirt pocket. She pressed the tip into her finger till it pricked. A drop of blood welled up, and the horn absorbed it. She felt the strange sensation again of total displacement. Her grip tightened on the horn. When her setting settled, she looked around. Her eyebrows knitted.

She stood in the middle of a desert, but the sand was a lavender color. The air was very dry. Mr. Squibbles peeked out from her pocket.

“Oh, crap.”

She felt light headed like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. “This isn’t right, is it?”

Chapter 17

Unicorns make lousy travel agents.

“We need to get out of here before we can't,” wheezed Mr. Squibbles. He was right. She already felt dizzy from the thin air. She jabbed her finger, and blood spilled onto the horn. The purple desert went dark, and when there was light again, her eyes were assaulted by so many shades of green that she looked down to make sure that she wasn’t green too, but there was plenty of air. She took deep breathes in relief, but they weren’t alone in their new location.

She wasn’t sure if the being in front of her was standing or sitting, but it definitely had a tree growing out of its head. It said something in a voice that was incomprehensible, not just the words but also the very sounds were impossible to understand. Its voice was like bark grinding and liquid leaves. The being raised an appendage that could have been an arm with fingers, except there were roots and leaves hanging off of it. It pointed one long root at them and said something even louder in its mulching voice.

“What is that thing?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s happy to see us.”

“Where are we?” The room was huge. The walls went up and up. She couldn’t see the ceiling due to the clouds that were in the way. A dull thumping sound was coming toward them. It sounded sort of like marching stumps.

“Oh shit, I think those are guards. Prick your finger! Prick your finger!” Mr. Squibbles said. She hastily pressed her pricked finger to the horn. The scene went dark.

She groaned when she looked around at their newest destination. She could tell right off that they had messed up again. This world was full of large pastel geometric shapes that looked plastic. At least, nothing looked sentient. At least, she assumed the large geometric shapes weren’t sentient. They very well could be she supposed, but they did not seem to be calling for guards or anything due to her sudden arrival in their midst.

“Mr. Squibbles, this isn’t working.”

“You think?”

“Did the unicorn tell you anything about teleporting back?” she asked.

“No, but then I didn’t ask.”

“Lovely. What are we supposed to do? We can’t keep blindly jumping from one world to the next. The next one might kill us. We could teleport into a volcano or something. I don’t want to do that.”

“And you think I do? How about you visualize someplace in our world when you do it next?”

“I’m pretty sure I was doing that all along.”

“Well, think about it harder. The unicorns can’t simply jump blindly like we are.”

She pictured Agatha’s hut as clearly as possible. She held the image in her mind’s eye as she bled onto the horn one more time. She closed her eyes as she felt the shift. She cautiously opened one eye and looked straight at the old heavy door of Agatha’s cottage. She threw her head back in relief at the familiar sight.

“Thank the dark gods, we made it,” Mr. Squibbles said.

That was the second time he'd used that phrase. “Who are the dark gods?”

“No one you don't thank.”

She was pretty sure that was bad grammar but decided to not pursue it. She rapped on the door. Agatha jerked it open with a scowl on her face that melted away when she caught sight of her. Naomi scuffed her shoe on the ground and looked up at her through her lashes. “Heard you could use my help,” she said.

Agatha released a whoop of laughter and lunged out to hug her. She staggered back in surprise and relaxed as the witch’s laughter infected her. She hugged the older woman back and giggled.

“Amazing,” the witch said. “I sent Mr. Squibbles away just this morning, and here you are on my doorstep in the evening.” She ushered her into her home and sat her down by the fire.

“Tell me about Tavik,” Naomi said.

Agatha leaned back in her chair and rubbed her brow as she stared sideways at the fire. Her actions did not instill confidence. “He’s sick. I’ve tried to cure him, but nothing I do helps. I’m not sure he wants to get better.”

“Is he at the castle now?” she asked. At Agatha’s nod, she stood up. “Then I should go there. He’ll want to see me.”

Agatha nodded again and heaved herself up out of her chair. She felt a twinge of guilt at making the woman move. She was obviously tired. “Give me a few moments, and we’ll be on our way. You should probably put this on.” She handed her a plain gown and a pair of laced boots. She nodded and began to change. While she shuffled out of her t-shirt and jeans, she sneaked looks around the cottage. It looked the same, though more things were scattered about. Agatha must have been busy making potions and casting spells to help keep things under control. She was tying her boots when a whiff of spicy smoke tickled her nose. She turned and saw the last moments of the witch’s transformation.

She raised an eyebrow as the black cat came to stand at her feet. “No need to strain the horse when we don’t have to,” the witch reasoned. Naomi shook her head and went outside. The horse was tethered to a small tree by the house. He’d been behind Naomi when she teleported to Agatha’s door and had gone completely unnoticed by her. She was pleased to recognize Stomper. She stroked the large horse’s neck. He appeared to remember her too and good naturally rubbed his head against her. She climbed onto his back and waited for Agatha to spring up too. When everyone was situated, she turned the horse in the general direction of the castle. Mr. Squibbles had taken his usual place between the ears and quietly directed the horse to where they wanted to go. This left Naomi time to talk more with the witch.

“Does everyone know you’re Tavik’s mother?”

She shook her head. “Tavik still wears the helm and keeps his secrets.”

“What did he tell them about me?”

Agatha hunched her shoulders. “That you ran away. He searched for you but couldn't find you. The consensus is Umbreks got you.”

Her back stiffened. It was the most likely story, but the idea that she had left Tavik willingly, while true, just felt wrong. Like she'd abandoned him. With unhappy clarity, she realized that she'd done just that. Umbreks, Golgoffs, and an insane god had run her off when he could've used her help. Many would say she'd had every right to leave that it was too much to ask of her, but she'd regretted it the moment she laid eyes again on her kitchen. “No one will be very happy to see me.” And maybe they had every right to be.

“Tavik will be happy.”

“But…” she said sensing more.

Agatha heaved a deep sigh which sounded strange coming from a cat. “He hasn't confided in me. I don’t know if he confides in anyone, but I suspect Errilol is behind his illness.”

“The god won’t like that he stopped fighting,” she said.

“It’s a bad business all around. He won’t be able to escape the god unscathed. We can only hope the god’s displeasure won’t kill him.”

She felt helpless thinking about how to deal with a god. “What can we do?” She hated how bleak her voice sounded.

“We’ll help as much as we can. Don’t worry, Naomi. Seeing you will ease him a great deal.” Naomi stroked the cat’s head without thinking, but Agatha’s purr told her that her action was not amiss. 

She half expected them to go through the secret passage to gain entrance in the castle but chided herself for being silly. They didn’t need subterfuge. She was returning to stay. Mr. Squibbles had directed the horse to the front gates. They stopped before them, and Agatha hopped down. She expected the witch to change back to her human form, but she did not. The guards appeared before she could ask the witch why.

“Who goes there?” one shouted.

She swallowed and wondered how to announce herself. Simple was best she decided. “Lady Naomi, Tavik’s wife,” she shouted back.

“Who?” the guard asked, but in the glow of their lanterns, she saw the other guard grab the first guard’s arm and whisper into his ear. He squinted down at her.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I want to see my husband.”

“And what makes you think our lord wants to see you?” the guard asked snidely. The man obviously didn’t hold a high regard of her. Considering what they’d been told, she couldn’t blame him, but she couldn’t help the frustration that bubbled up in her. They should’ve taken the secret passage.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she snapped back. Neither guard moved for a moment. The one who’d spoken to her smirked down at her. They could very well keep her at the gate the whole night. Why didn’t Agatha change back? They would let her in. She was their ally now. She glanced down at her and found the cat was no longer at the horse’s feet. She’d run off somewhere. She hoped it was to get her help because neither guard was budging from his post.

“Lady Naomi?” called a familiar voice. She felt a relieved smile stretch her mouth as she identified Geoff. The stable master joined the guards in the lookout and peered down at her. “Are you alone?”

Naomi thought better of acknowledging Mr. Squibbles’ presence. “Yes, may I come in?” Geoff stared down at her for a few more beats. She began to worry that he would join the guards in keeping her out.

“Lord Tavik will want to see her. Let her in,” he told the two guards. They nodded and called for the huge gates to be opened. Stomper slipped through them, and someone came to take the horse’s reins. She dismounted without an offer of help from any of the men standing around her. She felt icy stares directed at her from all sides. Mr. Squibbles had retreated to her bag and stayed out of sight.

Geoff bobbed his head and touched his forelock, but no one else gave her any greeting, and Geoff’s motions were rather timid and cursory. There was no smile on his face. 

“So you have returned.”

She turned and looked up at the stern visage of Mrs. Boon. She stood in the main doorway of the castle. Her hands folded over her white apron, which seemed to glow in the dim light. Naomi gave her a small bob in greeting, but Mrs. Boon didn’t acknowledge it. “Please follow me.” She never heard the word please sound more like a command. As she moved to follow the woman's retreating back, she felt all of the guards’ eyes on her. She was very unwelcome here.

“You look well, milady.” The pleasantness of Mrs. Boon's words did not mask her obvious disapproval. 

“It feels like I haven’t been gone at all,” she said before she could think better of it. Mrs. Boon’s face hardened, and her eyes narrowed.

“Lord Tavik would disagree.” Naomi cast her eyes to the ground. All of the animosity was making her feel even guiltier, but once she saw Tavik, everything would be all right, she reassured herself. Mrs. Boon led her through the castle at a brisk pace. She realized she was leading her to her old suite as they progressed.

“Aren't you taking me to Tavik?”

“Our lord will come to you.” She halted at her door and turned to her. “Yula will tend to you in the morning.”

She was surprised to hear her old friend was there. “Thank you, Mrs. Boon,” she said. Mrs. Boon’s eyes flicked over her once more. She wanted to say something to the housekeeper to make her friendlier but thought that no matter what she’d done Mrs. Boon would always look down on her. Mrs. Boon opened her door, and she slipped in past her. She turned to say goodnight, maybe ask her how she was, but she was already closing the door, and Naomi jumped when she heard the lock click. She tried the door, but it was bolted tight. It didn't even rattle under her hand. She turned from the door to take in the room. The air was a little musty from being closed up for the months she was gone. She wandered to window and looked up to the sky. The two moons shined down coldly on her. She wondered how long it would be before Tavik came to see her.

She took off her cloak and draped it over a chair. Mr. Squibbles climbed out of the hood and looked up at her. “An icy reception.”

“I can’t blame them considering what they were told,” she said sitting at the table. She waited for Tavik to arrive. The candles burned lower. Her eyes drooped. “What’s keeping him?” she asked. It had been over an hour she was sure.

“I’ll go and see.” Mr. Squibbles ran under her bed and disappeared. More time went by. She grew sleepier. She got up and paced. She found her eyes lingering on the bed longer and longer as she went by it. If he were unwell, he could already be asleep, and no one would want to rouse him. She didn’t have to see him that night. They’d have all the same things to say to each other the next day. She found one of her nightgowns in the chest sitting at the foot of the bed and changed into it. After blowing out the candles, she went to sleep and didn't dream.

Bright morning light woke her. She sat up and looked around. No one had come to get her. She’d expected Yula’s cheerful voice to rouse her, but the cook hadn't appeared yet. She got up and stretched. Where was everyone? Agatha and Mr. Squibbles should’ve come to check in on her too. Her stomach gave a gurgle. Breakfast would be nice. She dived back into her clothes trunk and found a gown to put on. She dressed, and since no one had still appeared to tell her what was going on, she tried the door. It was still locked. Dread started to creep upon her. She knocked on the door hoping to receive an answer, but no one spoke from the other side. She went to the windows to open one and look outside, but the windows were nailed shut. She stared down at the courtyard. There were people down there moving about their daily activities, but no one looked up at her. She beat upon the window to get their attention, but either they did not hear her, or they ignored her. What was going on?