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C ora dreamed of blood again.

The stench of it was overwhelming, the cloying tang searing her throat. She stood in the doorway of the room with the bed, a tray of tea and cookies in her trembling hands. She already knew something was wrong, for she’d begun following that tug of unease before she’d picked up the serving tray. But seeing all that blood, those sheets soaked with red, the queen lying limp with sightless eyes that stared at nothing…

Cora’s scream shattered the air, and the serving tray tumbled to the ground at her feet. Only then did she notice the figure who stood at the side of the bed. Duke Morkai whipped his head toward her, his hair a slash of black tinged the slightest bit blue where it was struck by the lantern light. His face was all hard lines and sharp edges, making him appear both ancient and ageless at once. Like a statue chiseled to capture a famed faerytale hero. Or a villain, perhaps. Her breath caught when she met his eyes. His pupils were black and so large they swallowed the whites that should have framed his irises. He stood with one hand raised several inches above the body of the queen. Specks of blood rose from the sheets toward his palm. As if he were…hiding the blood. Somehow. It made no sense, but one thing was clear.

He’d done this.

Cora bit back a cry and slowly inched away from the door, hardly daring to blink as Morkai pinned her beneath his unsettling stare. Her foot hit a slick spot on the marble floor.

Blood.

No, tea from the broken teapot she’d let clatter to the floor. She staggered to right her balance, and when she next locked eyes with Morkai, his appearance had changed. His eyes were no longer black but an icy pale blue contained to his irises. Blood no longer rose to his palm, and his hand was outstretched as if in plea, not…whatever it was Cora had thought she’d seen a second ago.

“Don’t just stand there,” he said, waving her inside the room. His voice trembled with distress. “Help the queen!”

Cora shook the conflicting images from her mind and rushed across the threshold. Morkai shifted to the side to let her take his place. She assessed Queen Linette. Blood trailed down the woman’s cheeks, her nose, her mouth, soaking the collar of her dressing gown. Nausea churned Cora’s gut as she gathered the queen’s cold hand in hers. “I don’t know?—”

“What have you done?” The voice was soft. Anguished.

A glance over her shoulder revealed King Dimetreus standing in the doorway, eyes wide with terror. Duke Morkai stood just behind him. When had he left the bedside? The duke leaned close to the king and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You recall what she said to the queen earlier.”

Cora blanched. She knew what Morkai was referring to, but…but…she hadn’t meant it! She’d regretted what she’d said to Queen Linette the moment the words had left her lips. It had been an outburst, not a threat. The words had sprung from the anger of a twelve-year-old girl, nothing more. Besides, what did that have to do with this ?

King Dimetreus’ expression turned hard, jaw set as he burned Cora with a glare. “You did this.” He stormed over to her, his voice rising to a growl. A yell. “What have you done?”

Cora jolted awake, her screams cut off by something heavy nudging her shoulder. She scrambled onto her side, blinking into the dark. She expected Maiya’s comforting words, the feel of her cot, the walls of her tent. Instead, all around her was dirt and the dying embers of a fire.

Where was she?

Where was she?

Time to wake. They move.

The words cut through her panic, helping her swallow down the terror of her dream and recall that she was no longer with the Forest People. She’d been away from them for just over a week. That was how long it had been since she’d last taken her sleeping draught, too. Not that it would have helped.

The heavy thing nudged her shoulder again, and this time she knew what it was. She angled her head and looked up at the white unicorn standing behind her. He pawed the dirt with a hoof.

We follow, the unicorn said.

In the week that she’d been traveling with the creature, she’d become better attuned to his feeling-thoughts. So much so that their communications seemed no different from any other kind of conversation. She still didn’t quite understand how it was possible. Was it his magic? Or hers?

“All right,” Cora said. Urgency propelled her to her feet. If the hunters were on the move, she and the unicorn had to be quick to follow. Not too quick, of course. Quick enough not to lose their trail but not so fast as to risk crossing paths and getting caught.

The sun was barely beginning to rise by the time Cora and the unicorn started off down the game trail the hunters had been following. She assessed the markings the hunters’ feet had left behind. They were perhaps an hour’s walk ahead of them. She was pretty sure, at least. She’d learned some tracking with the Forest People, but without much opportunity to practice, her skills were rudimentary. But after a week of following the hunters, she’d begun to understand what it looked like when the tracks they followed were too fresh. That was when the unicorn would get skittish, halting her with warnings of danger and slow down . Thankfully, his senses were stronger than hers. His scent and hearing far keener.

Or perhaps it was his magic. If that were the case, Cora wondered why he couldn’t simply guide her directly to the next party of hunters that held captive unicorns. Then again, he’d nearly been caught the last time he’d approached one of their camps.

Wouldn’t have been close to getting caught , came what she’d come to interpret as the unicorn’s voice, if not for freeing brethren . A wave of indignation rippled off the creature, echoed by Cora’s own. Not only could the unicorn understand her spoken words, but now and then he seemed to pick up on her thoughts too, even with her mental shields in place. Likewise, she was always able to glean his emotions and communications, shields or no.

“Oh, and how many of your brethren did you save before I came along?”

Another ripple of affront. His lack of answer told her his grand total before she’d freed the brown unicorn on his behalf must have been zero.

“By the way, it’s rude to read people’s minds without permission.”

Then stop listening .

Cora cut a glare at the unicorn. “I didn’t mean me .”

He gave no indication that he cared whom she’d meant. With a huff, she returned her attention to the markings on the trail before her. She was relieved there were no tracks of any captive unicorns in tow. Her companion had confirmed as much through his own senses.

They continued at a moderate pace well after midday. Cora saw no signs that they were gaining too closely on their prey. But when the unicorn halted suddenly on the trail, ears twitching back and forth, she knew they had.

They’ve slowed. Left trail .

It wasn’t an unusual course of action for the hunters. While they were clearly following a direct path along the game trail, and their pace suggested expediency, they’d still break to hunt now and then.

Cora pulled up short next to the unicorn, and he led her off the path. They backtracked a good ten minutes and waited. Waited. Waited.

The waiting was Cora’s least favorite part. Walking felt productive. Tracking busied both her body and her mind. Whenever they were forced to stop outside of evening rest, however, Cora felt caged. Restless. It made her recall James and the other vile hunters, the blood at Maiya’s temple, the arrow piercing Erwin’s neck. The latter stirred feelings of equal parts disgust and triumph. It made her want to do more, to hurt the hunters more. Based on their behavior and the two brands she’d spotted, she suspected the entire party was comprised of the worst kinds of criminals. With Erwin dead, there were four left. Four men she held a personal vendetta against. Four men she yearned to put down. She remembered all of their names from that night. James, of course. Gringe, the leader. Velek. Sam. All names that made her blood boil.

She wrapped her fingers around her bow, letting its familiar heft steady her. Ground her. Root her in place. She didn’t draw her weapon. Didn’t nock an arrow. Instead, she reminded herself why she couldn’t make a move on them yet.

She needed them alive. Needed a trail to follow.

The party the hunters joined next had more unicorns. That was the reason she was out here to begin with. Once she found them , she could do work that mattered. She wasn’t sure exactly how she’d free the captive creatures without getting caught herself, but she knew she’d need to keep her head on her shoulders. Exercise patience. Caution.

It made Cora’s muscles twitch with frustration just thinking about it.

“Do you have a name?” Cora asked, keeping her voice low. The question was more to distract herself, but it was something she’d been wondering the past week.

The unicorn rippled with confusion. You know I am unicorn .

“Yes, but do you have a name unique only to you? You know…like how I am a human but my name is Cora.”

I don’t remember . His words were tinged with agitation. She got the distinct feeling he was grasping for an answer to her question…but it was lost to him.

Cora furrowed her brow. Could he be such an ancient creature that he no longer remembered his name? If so, where had he been all this time? “Where are you from?”

A pause. Then, Forest .

“What forest? These forests? Have you always lived in Khero?”

Again, she got the sense he was straining to find the answer. It was almost painful for him. Not these forests. Like here but not here. Close, but not close at all .

Cora wanted him to elaborate but his feelings of frustration were enough to tell her he likely couldn’t. Theories began to buzz through her mind. What if the unicorns hadn’t been extinct but in some sort of slumber? What if they’d been…trapped in some way? Of course, if unicorns were returning, then perhaps other fae creatures were too. There could be dragons, pixies, kelpies, selkies?—

Only my kind , he said, cutting through her thoughts. Only my kind are here. No others . A wave of sorrow seeped from the unicorn, sinking Cora’s heart.

“What do you think happened to the others? Better yet, what happened to you? Your kind hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years.”

He scraped the earth with a hoof. Don’t remember. I try. I try and try, but it’s…gone. All I remember is…my forest. Then being here. Hunted .

“How long have you been here?”

Time feels…not what I remember it feeling. Wasn’t here long before I met you .

The unicorn’s predicament both saddened and fascinated her. Before her very eyes was a myth come to life. A mystery unraveling. Not even the Forest People knew the creatures had returned.

Well, at least they hadn’t before Roije informed the elders. And that was only if they hadn’t known all along and kept the intel from the rest of the commune.

Cora’s heart clenched with a mixture of anger and longing. She missed Maiya. Salinda. The comfort of her daily routine. She missed what it was like when she hadn’t known just how great a danger her presence was. But mingled with those feelings was irritation at the elders’ unwillingness to intervene with the plight of the unicorns. She understood why the Forest People refused to involve themselves with royal matters, but surely the capture of fae creatures was worth taking a stand against. If she had the support of the commune—even just a handful of their best trackers and hunters—they could overpower the men she followed, keep one alive for the sake of leading them to the next party, and then attack them too. She could free the unicorns and leave no one alive to tell the tale of the mysterious people who’d interfered?—

So violent , the unicorn said with disdain.

Cora pursed her lips. The Forest People would likely feel the same about her bloody fantasy. They were a nonviolent people. Even hunting was done with ritual reverence. No life was taken without need. No tree was felled without blessing the soil it belonged to. No hide was skinned without gratitude for the animal that gave its life to provide food and warmth.

Another reason Cora never truly belonged with the Forest People. When she’d killed Erwin, she hadn’t bothered to bless his soul or pray for his family. And she still had no desire to.

You can call me something , the unicorn said. The offer was stiff and begrudging, but it came with something that felt like camaraderie. Perhaps he too understood Cora’s pent-up rage.

“You mean I can give you a name?”

Better be good .

“All right.” She studied his white fur flecked with silver. His wounds left by Erwin’s whip were almost fully healed, and his coat looked twice as lustrous as it had been when they’d first met. He was graceful. Quiet. “How about…Ghost?”

Rather not be named after being dead .

“Fair enough. Snowball?”

He gave a derisive whinny. I am not a snowball .

“Mister Cuddles?” Cora smirked.

He sidled away from her, bristling with indignation. You mock me. I am not to be cuddled. I am strong and fearless. I am brave. Hunters tremble at the pound of my hooves . It was the most descriptive communication she’d ever felt from him. Which meant she really must have gotten under his skin.

“Fine,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Something brave then. Thunder Hoof. Rage Mane. Valorous Maximus.”

He radiated with a hint of approval. I sort of like the last one. Want it simpler though.

“Valor? No, Valorre.”

Those were both the same word .

“There was an extra R in that last one. And an E . It makes it a proper name.”

Why? Your alphabet means nothing to me.

“It just does. Trust me.” She was mostly teasing for the sake of entertainment, but she did like the way the name looked in her mind’s eye. “Valorre. There you have it.”

Fine . The word was curt but she could sense that he liked the name.

She grinned at Valorre and realized it was the first time she’d smiled since leaving the Forest People.

Valorre stiffened.

Cora’s momentary mirth drained in an instant as she felt the unicorn’s trepidation. “What is it?” she whispered.

The hunters. They do not pause to hunt. They pause to join others .

Fear and anxious excitement clashed in her stomach.

They’d found their prey.