Page 6

CHAPTER 6

BJORN

E lder Thornberry talked nonstop as we strolled from the house to the stables.

Rightly proud of his farm, he pointed out all the beautiful sights.

I tried to listen, but my mind went again and again to my encounter with the pixie.

I had never met a pixie before, and as it turned out, they were as beautiful and charming as their reputation suggested.

But when she beamed that warm smile at me, it triggered an immediate and illogical reaction.

She was smiling at Prince Bjorn.

She was friendly and playful with Prince Bjorn.

She was being kind and a little flirtatious because I was Prince Bjorn.

And then…

my runes glowed.

What in the Nine Gods was that?

Never, ever had my runes shown any reaction to a woman.

By the time I reminded myself that she had no idea I was Prince anything, it was too late.

Embarrassed by my rude behavior, all I wanted to do was escape.

But before I found my exit, I watched her interact with the others.

She was just…

nice.

She was kind, smiley, and seemingly well-loved by everyone in the room.

And I had acted like a bore.

Hell, even Smoke had been more cordial to her.

Leave it to my firewolf.

He was never wrong about people.

I only hoped that fixing her teacup would cheer her.

My stomach knotted when I realized I’d been very rude to the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life: red hair, wide blue eyes, a sweet button nose, and an endlessly kissable mouth.

She was?—

“Do you like bloomberry wine?” Elder Thornberry asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Perfect.

She is perfect.

“Honestly, sir, I’ve never tasted it,” I admitted.

“We favor ale and mead in the north.”

“Well, I’ll ensure you have a bottle while you’re here. My family bottles the finest bloomberry wine in all of the Summerlands,” he said proudly.

“I would be honored.”

The elder smiled widely.

Was everyone in Moonshine Hollow this welcoming?

People were always crowding around me in Frostfjord, but their intentions had not always been so pure.

Here, people just seemed interested in meeting me.

Me.

This was the very reason I’d come here.

I needed to get out of my own way.

We arrived at the stables, a large building suitable for housing at least a dozen horses.

Inside, I noticed stable hands working diligently and a young woman with flowing blonde hair brushing a horse.

She paused when she saw us, craning her neck to see what was going on.

I followed Elder Thornberry to the back.

There, a unicorn mare and her foal had been housed.

The unicorns we had in the north were vastly different from the creatures before me.

In the Frozen Isles, they were shaggy creatures with coats of gray, brown, or black and steel-colored horns.

These unicorns were far more dazzling.

Their coats were silky white, with manes and tails that shimmered with streaks of rainbow colors, their golden horns glistening in the stable’s soft light.

They reminded me of the nykur, mythical creatures from our northern legends.

Yet, some claimed they still roamed deep in the Frozen Isles.

When I was a boy, I thought I’d once spotted one, but the creature vanished when I tried to move in for a better look.

“Elder Thornberry,” I said, turning my attention back to him, “tell me more about the affliction facing your unicorns. In your message, you mentioned chaotic magic. Can you explain what you mean?”

Elder Thornberry gestured to the foal.

“It comes in fits and starts. You just never know what’s going to happen. One moment, everything’s fine, and then they stamp their hoof or shake their mane, and that horn lights up. Then…chaos.”

“What do you mean?”

As if on cue, the foal started prancing about his stall.

He whinnied and kicked, and then there was a sudden blast of light from his horn.

I winced at the bright light.

The whole barn glowed.

Afterward, a loud protest erupted, accompanied by the frantic clucking of chickens.

I turned to see the chickens that had been pecking through the straw now suspended four feet off the ground, encased in shimmering golden halos.

They flapped and shook, trying desperately to free themselves from whatever magic had gripped them, but to no avail.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the spell dissipated with a peculiar zapping sound.

The golden orbs holding the chickens vanished, and they dropped to the floor in a flurry of feathers, squawking indignantly.

“Chaos,” Elder Thornberry said, gesturing.

“I see,” I said as I watched the chickens hurry from the stables, clucking loudly in indignation.

“The effects are less pronounced in the mare, though she managed to turn an entire trough of water into ice and summon a tiny snow flurry,” Elder Thornberry explained.

“And the same thing is happening with the other unicorns? The herd in the fields?” I asked.

Elder Thornberry nodded gravely.

“Yes, all manner of chaos is unfolding out in the fields. My Master of Grove is concerned about the bloomberries. We don’t want something to happen that disrupts the wine harvest this fall. But, as much as I worry about the wine, I’m far more troubled for the poor unicorns and what this may mean.”

“Understandable,” I said, glancing at the mare and foal.

“I will observe this pair but should also visit the herd.”

Elder Thornberry nodded.

“I’ll make arrangements for someone to take you out tomorrow. There is a small cabin out in the fields where you can stay, but for now, I have a room for you here in the house. It’s quiet and private, with plenty of space for a northerner to stretch out.”

“That’s very generous, sir,” I replied, “but you don’t have to. I can easily stay in a lodging in town.”

“I’ll hear no debate. You’ve come a long way to help us, and you’ll need a good place to rest. Now, I’m off to rejoin the elders. My daughter, Emmalyn, who’s been listening to this entire conversation, will be sure you find your way. Right, Emmalyn?”

“Of course, Father,” came a cheerful reply from nearby.

The blonde-haired girl I’d noticed earlier appeared, smiling warmly.

“Let her know if you need anything,” Elder Thornberry added with a grin.

“And good luck to you.”

With that, the elder left, leaving me alone with the unicorns and Emmalyn’s curious gaze.

I stepped into the stall, moving slowly and deliberately.

The mare watched me cautiously, her ears swiveling in my direction.

The foal, however, was more curious about Smoke.

He poked his head over the stall gate and his nostrils flared as he tried to determine what, exactly, Smoke was.

I whispered softly as I moved close to the mare, keeping my voice calm and steady.

Rather than rushing to touch them, I let them sniff my hands and observe me from a safe distance.

I knew trust was built slowly and caution was paramount with their magic acting unpredictably.

“Any signs of injury?” Emmalyn asked, leaning against a beam as she watched.

“None that I can see,” I replied, glancing over the foal’s coat.

“No swelling, no strange markings, no obvious sources of pain. Whatever’s affecting them seems...deeper. I’ll need time to understand it.”

Her expression turned serious.

“The dryad who came to examine them thought the same. He tried giving them a draught of moonshine to stabilize their magic, but it didn’t help. Poor creatures. They look so unsettled. It’s heartbreaking to see them like this.”

I nodded, taking note of the foal’s restless movements.

Emmalyn reached into her pocket and pulled out a small cloth sack.

The unicorns’ ears perked up instantly.

“This will help make friends,” she told me.

“Sugar blossom cubes never fail.” She handed the bag to me.

Within, I found cubes glowing faintly with a soft pink shimmer and giving off a faintly floral scent.

The mare and foal eyed the sack eagerly, their noses twitching.

I chuckled then offered one cube to the foal and another to the mare.

They accepted eagerly, chewing contentedly before nudging me for more.

“See? Works every time,” Emmalyn said with a knowing smile.

I smiled, gave each unicorn another cube, and gently stroked their necks.

Their tension seemed to ease, if only slightly.

“Thank you,” I said, turning back to her.

“These are remarkably effective.”

“I imbue them with calming herbs. Keep them,” she said lightly.

“Thank you.”

“I’m four stalls down if you need anything. Try not to get impaled. It would look badly on my family if we killed a visiting representative from King Ramr’s court.”

I chuckled.

“I’ll try my best. I’m Bjorn, by the way.”

“Emmalyn,” she replied.

“Yell if you need me.”

I returned my focus to the unicorns.

The mare and foal were watching me, their eyes flicking toward the bag in my hand.

Smiling, I offered them another cube each, then gently stroked their silky necks.

“You see, my friends,” I murmured, “I’m here to help you. And, in your own way, you’re helping me too. You just don’t know it.”

The mare nickered softly.

As the sunlight streamed into the stall, warming the space with golden light, I felt a quiet sense of purpose settle over me.

Whatever was happening here, I would do everything in my power to set it right.

No one needed to call me Prince Bjorn, dress me in an uncomfortable doublet, force me to sing royal songs, or make me dance with women I was not interested in to make that happen.

Here, I was just Bjorn.

And just Bjorn would solve the riddle of the ailing unicorns.

I spent the rest of the morning and into the late afternoon tending to and observing the unicorns.

On two occasions, the mare evoked cold weather.

Once, a flurry swept through the barn, covering everything in snow.

On the second occasion, she sneezed, filling her stall with a foot of powdery white snow.

On both occasions, her horn had lit up before the blustery weather.

The same was true for the foal.

But his magic was far more random.

It went from making rose vines appear and disappear to a sneeze that refilled everyone’s buckets with oats.

There was no rhyme or reason for his affliction, and from what I could see, there was no stimulus for it either.

Nothing had changed.

Nothing had excited them.

In fact, the foal had been dozing when the oats incident happened.

I talked with the grooms, inspected the unicorns’ feed, and looked for possible allergens but found nothing.

I felt that the answer I was looking for would be found in the fields beyond where the rest of the herd roamed.

Smoke was the first to alert me to how much time had passed with his usual hungry dances.

“Hungry, eh?” I asked the wolf.

“Shall we see what Moonshine Hollow has to offer?”

The wolf, sensing a meal was coming, wagged his tail and jumped excitedly.

Chuckling, I pulled out the compass bird the gnome child had given me.

“My wolf companion and I need some dinner. Will you kindly lead the way?”

The paper bird shook itself like a real bird and then set off, leading us off Elder Thornberry’s property and back toward Moonshine Hollow.

We wove down the winding streets, passing many quaint shops where people paused to chat with one another.

The bird led me on meandering loops, down alleys and streets with crooked little two-story houses, gardens, and magical window displays.

Enchantments had been set on many of the goods for sale, including a loom weaving a design on its own accord and a paintbrush painting, and then magically erasing, images as people passed.

When I paused to watch, the brush considered me and then quickly painted a picture of a gray, tossing sea filled with icebergs.

“Very well done,” I told the paintbrush, giving it a smile and nod.

Happy sparks effervesced around it before it erased my image and moved on to the next design.

The little paper bird led me down one lane and then another.

Soon, the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.

My stomach growled hungrily.

The bird fluttered to a stop and alighted on my shoulder.

I turned to discover I was standing before The Sconery and Teashop.

A wooden sign on which the shop name was depicted, decorated with hand-painted flowers, swayed in the breeze.

On the sidewalk outside the café, people sat at small tables enjoying drinks and food.

A glimmering chalkboard sign outside displayed the Evening Specials , which included varieties of hearty soups, baked savory pies, and breads.

Inside, I saw Rosalyn fluttering about her shop.

She was refilling glasses with a sparkling drink with lemon slices and lavender sprigs.

The soft glow of the dying sunlight painted shades of pink and gold on the flowers outside her windows.

They shimmered with golden light, perfectly framing the luminescent beauty of the woman within.

Here?

The bird led me here?

Once more, I felt a warm tingle on my skin.

I looked down to see the blue runes on my forearm sparking to life.

I watched as the pixie stopped and chatted with her customers, all smiles and pleasantries.

She was a pure beauty and kind of heart.

I’d never met anyone like her before.

“Well, are you going in or not?” a small voice asked, pulling my attention away.

I turned, finding a gnomish woman in a massive straw hat, flowers adorning her chapeau, fixing me with a penetrating stare.

“I…”

“I don’t know you,” the gnomish woman said, her gaze narrowing.

“Are you traveling through?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said politely, suddenly feeling unnerved and worried Rosalyn might see me standing in the middle of the street, gawking at her.

If that happened, I might just die of embarrassment.

I took the paper bird from my shoulder and carefully stuffed it into my pocket.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, then looked down at Smoke.

“Come on, boy,” I said, then hurried down the street, looking over my shoulder once more, watching as the gnome woman fixed me with such a stare that I felt guilty.

When I turned the corner, I laughed.

Never in my life had anyone made me feel like such a scoundrel.

“I expected many things would happen when I wasn’t Prince Bjorn, but being treated like a common criminal by a lady in a flowered hat was not one of them,” I told the wolf with a laugh, and then we headed back into town.

At a vendor barbequing meat at a small stand along the river, I purchased Smoke a hefty piece of beef he chewed on while I watched the boats float by.

I sat quietly, minding my business and enjoying the warm breezes as the sun set.

Finally, when it grew dark again, I took the compass bird from my pocket.

“Okay, for real this time. The wolf is fed. Now, I need something to eat.”

Once more, the compass bird took off and flew back down the winding roads of the village.

I was grateful to the gnomish boy who had gifted me the enchantment.

I had no idea where I was, and the streets of Moonshine Hollow rarely followed any predictable pattern.

We climbed up a set of stairs and then turned down a street, the bird fluttering before me as it stopped.

Coming from a different direction, I hadn’t realized where I was until…

First, I smelled the bread.

And then I saw the sign.

The Sconery and Teashop.

Once again, I was standing outside Rosalyn’s café.

Inside, she was tidying up for the night.

Three enchanted brooms swept while she fluttered around the space.

I looked more closely when I realized she had something fluffy hanging from one arm.

She patted the little creature and then set what I realized was a caticorn on the counter.

She had a whole conversation with the caticorn and then turned to clean again.

Again, the compass bird alighted on my shoulder.

“Very funny,” I told the bird.

A bell over the flower shop door beside Rosalyn’s café chimed.

Once more, the gnomish woman appeared.

“You again,” she said with a scowl.

“I…”

“Do I need to call the constables? What do you want around here? Why are you watching?—”

“Bjorn?” Rosalyn called softly.

Please, Lord of Lightning, send a bolt and strike me dead.

Kill me here on this street.

Eviscerate me.

“I…” I began, and then the compass bird lifted off my shoulder and fluttered toward Rosalyn, looking back at me.

“A child gifted me with the compass bird. I told it I was hungry and…” I explained awkwardly.

“Rosalyn, do you know this stranger?” the gnomish woman asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yes, I do. He’s a friend of Elder Thornberry,” Rosalyn answered simply.

“Come in, Bjorn. I’m just closing up for the night, but I have lots of soup and fresh bread left.”

“I don’t mean to impose, I just?—”

“Was hungry?” Rosalyn asked with a light laugh and a smile that made something in my stomach unknot.

“That’s what a café is for, you know. Come.”

“Rosalyn, this man has been lingering outside your door,” the gnomish woman said, giving me a fierce look.

“It’s all right, Winifred. He seems harmless. As for you,” she said, turning to Smoke, “are you a nice boy with kitties?”

“He is,” I reassured her.

“Then, come. I have more cookies,” she told Smoke, who wagged his tail.

“’Night, Winnie,” she called to her neighbor, who gave me a suspicious huff.

I looked down at Smoke.

“Mind your manners,” I said, then grinned at my own feelings, “and I’ll mind mine.”

Rubbing my forearm, I cleared my throat, pushed back my hair, and headed inside.

Lady of Spring, be with me…

and please, do not let me make a fool of myself.