Page 29

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.”

This wasn’t just one or two individual plants, though.

No, this was an entire glade of the delicate blossoms, all of them glowing with their own inner light, making the glade seem almost as bright as day.

And they weren’t the only unearthly plants growing there — the very moss underfoot had its own bioluminescence, as did the spiky bushes that somehow reminded me of yucca, even though we were hundreds and hundreds of miles from any place where those desert shrubs would grow naturally.

But then, nothing about our surroundings felt terribly “natural.” No, it seemed to me as if the flora growing in this spot had also somehow slipped onto this plane from somewhere else, the same strange universe where creatures like unicorns and griffins and who knows what else lived.

In the glow from the plant life, Ben’s face was alight with wonder.

He looked around us, his expression that of a little boy who’d just discovered that Santa Claus was real after all.

His lips had parted slightly, but I could tell he wouldn’t speak unless I gave the signal, as if he thought I might know better what to do than he could.

I was on completely unfamiliar ground here, though. The various glimpses of legendary beasts I’d caught over the years hadn’t prepared me for what I was seeing now.

The unicorn seemed almost matter-of-fact as he forged ahead, however.

Once we passed a clump of glittering pink bushes — not so dissimilar from the pink tinsel Christmas tree I’d wanted desperately when I was eight years old and my parents had firmly vetoed — we came into a clearing where the ground was covered by more of the bioluminescent moss.

Standing in the center of that clearing was a group of standing stones, much smaller in scale than Stonehenge, of course, but impressive…and unexpected…nonetheless.

Finally, Ben spoke.

“What is this place?” he asked in a reverent whisper.

“I don’t know,” I replied in the same sort of undertone. “I’ve never seen it before. I had no idea it was even here.”

During this exchange, the two of us had moved, almost unconsciously, toward the standing stones. The unicorn shook his mane and stepped closer to one that was a little larger than the others, then pointed his horn toward what I realized was a set of markings.

Ogham letters.

“I wish I could read them,” Ben said, and glanced over at the unicorn. “What do they mean?”

The unicorn shook again, almost like a dog who wanted to go out for a walk. I could sense the impatience in the movement, could somehow tell he was annoyed that we dense humans weren’t able to put it all together.

I gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. Do you think the same person who carved the symbols in the trees put these here, too?”

At once, Ben shook his head. “No. These are much older. See how the edges of the lines are blurred slightly? That’s from exposure to the elements over a span of years. Decades at least, probably even more. I haven’t done much study of the effects of erosion on stone in this part of the world.”

He knew that much, though, which was more than I did.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the unicorn neighed — the first sound I’d ever heard him make. He reared, horn glowing even more brightly, and promptly bolted off into the woods.

“Wait!” I called out, and took a few useless steps forward before I realized there was no way in the world I’d ever be able to follow him.

Ben didn’t appear too dismayed, though. In fact, he’d pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of his jacket pocket and was taking a rubbing of the markings on the stone, probably so he could translate them once we got back to civilization.

If we got back to civilization.

“Well, that’s just great,” I said as I made my way back to the spot where he stood. “Stranded out in the middle of nowhere with no way to get back.”

“We can retrace our steps,” he replied calmly. “I’ve got this,” he added as he returned the paper and pencil to his pocket and bent down to pick up his flashlight.

When he went to turn it on, though, it gave one feeble flicker and then promptly went dark.

That’s the cherry on the cake of my day, went through my mind, although I thought it better to keep that sentiment to myself. We were in a tough enough spot as it was without me bitching and moaning the whole way.

Ben looked so crestfallen that I almost wanted to laugh. But again, I guessed that sort of reaction wouldn’t be very helpful.

“Now what?”

“We wait until dawn,” he said, calm reasserting itself. “There’s no point in blundering around in the darkness and getting even more lost.”

That suggestion didn’t seem too attractive to me. “That’s at least six hours from now.”

“True,” he said imperturbably. “But I’ve got water in my pack, and this moss seems soft enough. And we can lean against one of the trees over there.”

He pointed to a stand of what looked almost like birch trees, although their leaves gleamed like living silver coins in the darkness.

Actually, it wasn’t dark here at all. The problem would be when we left this strange pocket of otherness and ventured into the normal, everyday forest, where none of the flora there helpfully provided enough light to mark our way.

As much as I wanted to protest, I knew he was right. Getting lost in the forest just because I didn’t want to stay here by the standing stones and the glowing plants that surrounded them seemed like the height of stubborn stupidity.

“All right,” I said, knowing I sounded way too cranky. “I just wish I knew why the unicorn brought us out here, only to abandon us.”

“I have no idea,” Ben replied. “It could be that there was something here he wanted us to see.”

“More than those standing stones?” I asked, and his shoulders lifted.

“Possibly. We really haven’t explored all that much.”

Well, that was true. He’d looked at the carvings on the one stone in the circle, but other than that, we hadn’t done much to take stock of our surroundings.

And since it seemed as if we were going to be here for a while, we probably should take a real look around.

“All right,” I said, then managed what I knew must be a lopsided grin. “Maybe we’ll find a better place to sleep.”

He smiled in return, but I could tell he was indulging me. Whatever the circle of stones might be hiding, I doubted it was a futon…or even a couple of sleeping bags.

By some unspoken agreement, we went off in two different directions, with me going to the right and Ben heading to the left.

However, I’d only walked a few paces past the standing stone with the Ogham letters carved into it before I noticed a couple of odd, bare patches in the glowing moss at my feet.

Were those footprints?

I bent closer to take a look, gladder than ever that the moss provided its own illumination.

Yes, definitely footprints, around the size of my own when I glanced down for a quick comparison. Two sets, I thought, one just slightly bigger than the other, the main thing differentiating them the tread they’d left behind.

Why would those footprints remain here when it didn’t look as if my own passage across the moss had left a single trace?

Two sets of footprints….

A trickle of cold moved down my spine, one that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

Could it be…?

“Ben!” I called out.