Page 48 of Silver Linings

“Poor things,” Sidney said, and ran her hand over the rough bark of one pine. “I hate this. There was no reason for these trees to be sacrificed like this.”

“Maybe there’s some way to use them for the people of Silver Hollow?” Ben suggested. “Maybe to repair fences or build sheds, or even provide firewood for the people who need it? That way, this might not feel like such a waste.”

Her expression was still sorrowful, but he thought he noticed a certain light in her eyes as she nodded in agreement.

“That’s a good idea,” she replied. “It’s the least Northwest Pacific can do for the town, considering the way they tried to pull an end run on all of us. I can talk to a few people I know who have the kind of equipment to handle trees this big. Maybe some of this can be salvaged, even if it looks pretty bad.”

That it did. Although he couldn’t say he knew these woods intimately the way Sidney did, he still admired them for their wild beauty and wanted nothing more than for them to thrive and grow. Seeing the destruction the work crew had left behind only made his heart ache.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a pale shimmer from somewhere within the woods, a gleam of light in the darkness that only grew brighter as it approached.

His breath caught in his throat, even as his heart began to beat a little faster.

Was it possible?

A unicorn stepped out from among the pine trees. It seemed to glow with its own illumination, and its long horn — which looked translucent and lovely as the interior of a seashell — glittered as if it had been sprinkled with diamond dust.

Next to him, Sidney went very still. However, Ben couldn’t detect any shock in her expression, only a kind of wonder.

Did her lack of reaction mean that she’d seen the unicorn before this?

He had no idea, and he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to find his voice to ask the question.

The unicorn paused a few yards away from them. Now Ben could see the silver-tipped dark lashes that surrounded its gleaming eyes, the slight dappling of the smooth white hair that covered its body. Like a horse, but at the same time…not.

It dipped its head at them and then gracefully turned and began to walk back into the forest. Both Ben and Sidney stood there, staring, and it shook its mane, as if in impatience.

“I think he wants us to follow him,” she whispered.

How did she know it was a he? Ben knew he hadn’t peeked at the undercarriage to determine the sex of the animal, but maybe she had.

Or maybe she had called the unicorn “he” because this wasn’t the first time she’d seen him.

Well, he would worry about that later.

Right now— right now, if a unicorn wanted to invite you deeper into the woods, you didn’t ask questions.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Chapter Fifteen

I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised by the shocked awe on Ben’s face as we followed the unicorn. After all, I’d worn that same expression when I encountered the beast for the first time, and at least I’d already known unicorns existed.

Exactly why he wanted to take us into the woods, I couldn’t be sure. On the previous occasions when I’d seen the unicorn, he’d seemed content to simply appear and reassure me of his existence before he melted back into the forest once again.

Tonight, though…tonight, it sure seemed as if he had some reason for guiding Ben and me away from Welling Glen.

He’d switched off his flashlight, probably because the glow from the unicorn was sufficient to guide us along, and also because I had a feeling he was trying to conserve the batteries. Traveling that way made the experience seem even more otherworldly, as though we were passing through surroundings not entirely of this earth.

I couldn’t help shivering a little, even though the jacket I’d thrown on as I left the house was plenty warm. Possibly it was just that I wondered if this was how my mother and grandmother had disappeared, following the unicorn like a will-o’-the-wisp until they were lost forever.

As best I could, I thrust that thought out of my mind. The unicorn might not have been from this plane of existence, but I’d certainly never sensed anything malicious or evil about him. No, he had some reason for taking us through these starlit woods, even if I couldn’t yet comprehend what that reason might be.

Next to me, Ben kept pace in silence. I didn’t know if that was because he feared the sound of his voice might scare off the unicorn, or just because he was so gobsmacked by the situation that he couldn’t think of what to say.

In a way, I thought that was a good thing. I did my best to focus on our surroundings, to note a stand of birches here or a clump of boulders over there — anything that might help to guide us back to where we started, since we were far off any recognizable paths by that point. Sure, it would be nice to believe that the unicorn would lead us to the edge of the forest once we were done with whatever he had in mind, but I also knew I couldn’t count on him to think anything like a human.

Up ahead, something gleamed in the darkness that wasn’t the unicorn. As we drew closer, I realized what I’d detected was more of the glittering flowers I’d seen the first day I met Ben — the blooms he’d said folklore referred to as “fairy bells.”

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