Page 57 of WarBride

I shudder, gripping the folds of my soaked cloak. Gods above, I could have sworn IfeltTaar’s hand close around my neck, snapping my spine, breaking me to pieces! My mind still isn’t fully convinced it didn’t happen. Taar’s retreating form has nearly reached the line of trees now. Soon he’ll disappear into those deep shadows.

I press a hand to my chest, as though I might still my own frantically beating heart. How did this happen? The signs of demon’s blood are unmistakable, but he’d so adamantly refused to take it this morning. What could have changed his mind? There’s no enemy in sight, not a single living soul but me. And what will happen to him now?

“If they do not succeed in killing within the hour, they themselves will die.”

I hear his voice in my memory, the warning he spoke just a few short hours ago. Is this then to be Taar’s fate? Since the unicorn prevented him from killing me, will he succumb to the poison’s influence?

“The darkness burns too hot and liquifies their innards, which then runs in black streams from every orifice.”

“Oh gods,” I whisper. “Oh, gods above, no.” The unicorn is watching me. I feel his burning gaze and turn to him desperately. “What am I supposed to do?”

He does not answer, not even a trill of song in my head.

I rub a hand down my face, wiping mud and muck away. Utter helplessness churns in my gut. I can’t fight Taar! I can’t subdue him, and, even if I could, I couldn’t stop the demon’s blood from killing him as he described. Am I supposed to just let him murder me? But if that’s what the unicorn wanted, if that’s why he brought me out here, why would he interfere?

A scream erupts across the sky, swiftly followed by another and another. I spin in place, turning in the direction of those voices. People emerge from among the trees—the townsfolk, who’d fled into the forest to hide from the fae. I can see them, spilling out into the field: men, women, and children. Taar has found fresh prey.

Teeth grinding, I turn to the unicorn. “Are you going to burn me alive if I ride you again?” I demand.

He shakes his great head. A shiver seems to ripple across his flesh, and those hairline cracks close up, one after the other. The light sinks back down inside his body. I can feel the tension in him, the concentrated effort it takes, but within a few moments, he becomes once more a big red beast of flesh and blood. He kneels and tilts his great head expectantly to one side.

“Skewer me,” I growl. “Skewer me six ways to hell!”

Then I fling myself at the unicorn, scrambling up into the saddle. He scarcely waits for me to swing my leg over and grab a fistful of mane before he sets off galloping across the fields. His stride is long and fluid, and his feet never seem to touch the ground. I might as well be flying, clinging to his back, bowed low over his neck, and praying to any god who can keep up that I won’t fall and break every bone in my body.

People flee across the field, screaming and frantic in their need to escape. Women clutch their children, while men brandish makeshift weapons, their faces stricken with terror. They do not see the unicorn, do not seem to see me either, which is just as well. He dodges them nimbly, moving with such lightness, they might as well not be there at all.

We come to the edge of the forest where a little road emerges from the trees. There are abandoned carts here, sacks and supplies, all the signs of hastily-made escape. And there, in the center is Taar, bent over a fallen donkey. The donkey lets out a last panicked bray, hooves flailing, just as Taar rips out its throat with his teeth. He leans back, head up, mouth gaping. Blood and black bile roll in streams down his jaw and throat.

A flicker of movement draws my eye. I look beyond the donkey carcass to the cart it was pulling. A child crouches behind one of the wheels. Wide-eyed and terrified, left behind by its family in their flight.

The same instant I become aware of the child’s presence, Taar does as well. His head whips to one side, his awful, black-pooled eyes fastening on that tiny figure, who scrambles away, trying to escape out the back end of the cart. Taar’s mouth opens wider. Elongated black teeth jut from his jaw.

I don’t have time to think. I drive my heels into the unicorn’s flanks, and he responds without hesitation. Muscles bunching, he springs forward, soaring over the heads of the last few fleeing townsfolk, aiming straight for Taar. He lands between Taar and the child, pivots with unnatural grace, and rears. Flames lick up his flanks and shoulders, and I realize I have mere moments before I’m about to be engulfed in fire.

Releasing my hold on both mane and saddle, I slip from the unicorn’s back, right over his rump and tail. I land hard, the wind knocked out of me, heat and flame erupting in my vision. I roll away, arms upthrown to shield my face. When I come to astop, I’m lying on my stomach, staring into the face of the child, who has scrambled out from under the cart and stands in the open, mouth gaping in a silent scream. His round eyes are fixed on the unicorn, whom he can absolutely see in this flaming state.

“Run!” I scream. The child doesn’t hear me, enraptured by the horror and beauty of that sight. Gritting my teeth, I scramble upright, ignoring the aches and pains bursting across my body. I stagger, catch my balance, and rush to the child, gripping him by the shoulders. “Go! Get out of here, now!” I cry, shaking him hard.

He blinks at me, taking in this wild, mud-spattered woman who has appeared as though out of nowhere. Something about the sight of me jars him back into reality. With a squeak he whirls and races down the forest road after the other townsfolk, his little bare feet slapping against the cold, wintery ground. I breathe out a sigh, glad to see the last of him, then start to turn toward Taar and the unicorn.

Something strikes me across the temple.

I stagger, fall, but never hit the ground. A strong hand catches me by the shoulder, wrenches me back upright. Sparks burst in my vision; pain explodes across every sense. For a moment I cannot comprehend what’s happening to me.

Then I find myself staring up at Taar.

He’s so massive. Great and looming, a mountain of a man. No, not a man . . . a monster. Though there is still some trace of the Taar I knew, the darkness bursting from his eyes and mouth has warped him into something terrible. His long black teeth no longer fit in his sagging jaw, and the ends of his fingers have lengthened as well, the nails transformed into cruel talons. His spine is hunched, bones protruding, threatening to burst through the skin in jagged burs. Blood mingles with the bile dripping from his tongue, pouring from his eyes.

Donkey blood—not human.

This thought pulls at the back of my fear-wrung mind. He did not kill any people but went for the beast instead. Does that mean there’s some part of this creature that is still Taar? That is still fighting to resist the pull of the demon poison?

His huge hands grip my head, one on either side. I feel the terrible strength of them, how easily he could crush my skull like a bit of delicate porcelain. I stare up into his face, into those abyss eyes. Through the throbbing of my pulse, I feel it—thatun-song, that unmaking, that dissonance. It pulses out from the core of him, swallowing up all that was once harmony and wholeness in his spirit.

But he’s still in there, deep down. He’s got to be.

“Taar!”I scream his name, the sound tearing from my throat. Just at the end of that scream, I deepen my voice, let it become something more. Let it becomesong.My gods-gift ripples across my tongue and bursts in his ears, echoing and reechoing, filling the forest with one clear, desperate note.

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