Page 112 of Thornlight

“I thought the Old Wild was gone,” Thorn whispered against Cub’s leg. “How did I hear it?”

“It comes back to help,” said Cub slowly. Then, mournfully, “It does not like all the hurt it sees.”

“Did you hear what I thought? Did you feel my idea?”

Cub nodded, his great head making a breeze. “I did, Thorn of the Vale. The Old Wild speaks true.”

Thorn met Cub’s wide black gaze. “If I do this, will you hurt anyone? After? You won’t, will you? I know you’re angry. I know you’ve been in pain.”

Cub scratched miserably at his neck. “Humans aren’t for eating.”

The curse living inside Thorn hissed and purred. It had been designed to feed, and it longed for the chance to do more.

Thorn ached to be rid of it.

Thorn never wanted to let it go.

Without it, she would be her old self again—the unremarkable sister, the forgotten sweep.

Cub’s voice touched her hair like a kiss. “It is no small thing,” he mumbled, “to have a gentle heart.”

Thorn’s mother gasped in surprise. “I’ve said that to her, Cub, many times throughout her life. How did you know?”

“Bartos said it too, once,” whispered Thorn, her stomach churning, her head pounding, her heart breaking and breaking and breaking again. She hugged Cub’s leg, found a tiny yellow flower in his fur.

“May I take this?” she asked.

Cub nodded, slow and heavy. “Bring it to her.”

To the queen.

Brier’s expression was grave. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to break the curse.” Thorn plucked the little flower free and squeezed Brier’s hand. “Will you watch over Zaf until I’m finished?”

“I promise.”

Thorn could not bear to hug Brier again. If she hugged her, she wouldn’t find the strength to leave her. She moved past Brier, her eyes stinging.

Stop crying,hissed the curse.Stop crying!

“Papa,” Thorn said sharply, “you stay with Brier and Cub. Mama, come with me and Noro. Cub’s going to throw us out of here, and you’re going to tell everyone at the war front to stop launching their eldisks.”

Fern Skystone stared at her. “Cub’s going towhat?”

Noro let out a long-suffering sigh, but his expression was gentle. “Unicorns always land on their feet. Didn’t you know?”

Thorn climbed onto Noro’s back. When her mother settled behind her, she hissed in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Noro said quietly. “If I could keep that from happening, I would.”

Thorn threaded her fingers through Noro’s mane. “Cub? Is this all right?”

Cub held out his paw. As Noro leaped gracefully into his palm, Cub rumbled, “Tell Queenie I’m sorry.”

The pang in Thorn’s chest was too confusing to decipher. “Throw us as hard as you can.”

Cub wrapped his claws around them. Thorn’s mother muttered, “Unicorns always land on their feet,” over and over, against the back of Thorn’s neck.

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