Unicorn Bait (18 page)

“Why don’t you come by for dinner again tonight? I know your father and brother will have questions. Your father will probably have a very tough time accepting this.”

Chapter 16

Unicorns are not indigenous anywhere.

“What do you mean you’re moving away and can’t say where? How will we reach you?”

Naomi winced and hunched her shoulders. “It’s not like you could call me anyway. There aren’t any phones.”

“What?!”

She winced again. “It’s a real rustic place. The phone companies haven’t gotten there yet.” The idea of the Verizon guy walking by Agatha’s cabin asking ‘Can you hear me now?’ while Umbreks stalked him in the shadows gave her a moment of amusement before her father brought her crashing back to reality.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to move to some grass hut to be with a guy you’ve known for less than a month. What are you thinking?” 

She glanced at the two other family members sitting at the table. Her mother was being gently supportive while Bobby looked like he wanted popcorn.

“Dear, I think Naomi is willing to sacrifice so much because she loves this man.”

“Are you engaged?”

She shook her head. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Knocked up?”

“Harold!”

“Dad!”

“Well?” her father persisted.

“No,” she said and pushed some peas around on her plate. 

“Then what’s the rush?”

“He needs me. He’s in a difficult situation, and he misses me.”

Her mother’s face softened at the last reason, but her father still looked upset by the whole situation. “Am I the only one who thinks this whole thing is all one big mistake? You’re going to ruin your life.”

Her back stiffened. “Tavik needs me, Dad, and I want to help him. I know going there is a major risk, but I want to do it. I want to be with him.”

Her father turned his head to his plate and moved his food around. “I don’t want to lose my little girl.”

“Harold, you’re not losing her. You’re letting her go.” Her father grimaced and swirled his food.

“Have you decided what to do with your apartment?” Bobby asked.

She sat back in surprise with the new mundane consideration. She hadn’t really thought about it. She should box everything up and see if anyone wanted it. She looked over at her brother’s face and saw the solution sitting across from her. “Can you afford it?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he nodded. “A couple of guys and I could totally handle it. It’s two bedrooms right?” She nodded.

“Will you be taking many clothes?” her mother asked.

She shook her head.

“I could give them to the women’s shelter. They’ll be put to good use.”

She nodded. Leaving shouldn’t be this simple, should it?

“What about your job?” her father asked.

“I’ll give immediate notice tomorrow.”

“Not even two weeks?”

“No.”

Her father shook his head. “Bad business. You won’t get an excellent reference that way.”

“I won’t need it. Tavik has a job for me,” though she didn’t want to tell her parents that her job title was Lady.

“What about a place to stay? Do you have a grass hut to sleep in?”

She smiled wryly and pictured the castle. “Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place.”

“When will you be leaving?” her mother asked.

She thought about it for a few moments. She had everything she needed and stuff was pretty well taken care of. She shouldn’t prolong the inevitable. She steeled herself and answered, “In two days.”

Everyone blinked at her.

“So soon?” her mother asked. Her voice wavered. She nodded again. She twisted her hands in her lap. Her father shoveled more food into his mouth to stop himself from commenting.

“Are you sure, sis?” Bobby asked.

Naomi’s eyebrow arched. “It’s time for me to grow up,” she said. Bobby stared at her slack jawed with his words thrown back at him. He looked back down at his plate uncomfortably.  

She let herself back into her apartment with a relieved sigh. She hadn’t been sure if she were ever going to get out of the house. The interrogation had continued, and her father drilled her on everything. She’s had to start lying outright to placate him.

Mr. Squibbles was curled up asleep on the sofa. She stroked his back to wake him.

He jerked up. “Wuh, I didn’t eat the scroll!" He looked around quickly and finally up at her. He blinked a moment. "Oh, it’s you. How'd it go?”

“About as well as could be expected. I want to try the repair spell tonight. Are you up for it?”

He nodded and climbed into her hand. “Are you sure you have everything?”

She pointed at the ingredients set up in the kitchen. He hopped onto the kitchen counter and crawled through them to make sure they were correct. When he was satisfied, he told her the instructions for the spell. She wrote them down, and they were ready to begin. First, they needed a small cauldron as Mr. Squibbles put it. She took out her largest casserole dish and placed it on the counter. She tied the gauze around the horn to hold it together and put the river stone into the pot and placed the horn on top of it. She reached for the stove dial. “How hot should I make it?”

“The milk needs to simmer.” She turned the dial to low. It was time to begin.

She glanced at her sheet. First was the milk. She poured it in over the stone while saying, “With this simple spell what was once broken will be mended.With running water and pure milk, the damage will be tended.” The stone and horn disappeared from view in the milk.

She picked up the acorns next. She dropped them in one at a time. “As large trees come from eye sized seeds, this horn will get the stength it needs.” The acorns plopped into the milk. Now it was time for the nail.

“Iron cold and hard will become hot and molten to meld and fuse what is broken.” The nail disappeared into the milk.

She took a moment to smell the roses. She lowered them petals first into the pot. “And these roses will help beauty and dread recombine to make something both dangerous and kind.” The stems stuck out of the milk along with the horn.

She picked up the handful of dirt. “The earth accepts and nourishes all. May it return this alicorn to its original state before the fall.” When she added the earth, the milk turned brown.

There was only one ingredient left, and while she had plenty of it, she was a little scared of adding it, considering how unicorn horns reacted to blood. She picked up a sharp knife and held it against her arm. “With life there is death, but without death there is no life. With my blood, I give this cauldron life to balance the death.” She slid the knife against her arm. The knife was very sharp, and the gash opened easily with a sharp sting. Her blood welled up, and she turned the cut down toward the pot. The drops fell, and she watched them slip under the surface, leaving red halos behind.

When she counted nine, she pressed a paper towel to her bleeding arm and peered into the pot as she said the last line. “Now the spell is cast and the potion done may it be enough to render this tragedy undone.” The concoction bubbled and looked very unappetizing. It certainly didn’t look magical. “Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Squibbles’ whiskers twitch. He sat silently on her shoulder. “Well?” she goaded.

“The unicorn said it would work. He would be the one to know.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Let’s just let it sit for the night. We can check it in the morning.”

She left the pot on the stove and turned the heat down to the lowest setting. She left Mr. Squibbles with the magical box and wand controller with the firm order not to stay up all night. If people started trying to sell him useless gadgets, it was past his bedtime. As she got ready for bed, she tried to feel hope about the spell, but she had serious doubts that it’d work. She hadn’t seen or felt anything particularly mystical. There hadn’t been any whoosh of air or sparkly special effects or trumpet sounds. All it’d done was burble. Well if it didn’t work, there were always the mystical properties of super glue.

When she checked the pot the next morning, her lip curled at the sight. The milk had mostly burned off, and the rest had formed a brown nasty sludge at the bottom of the pot. She turned the stove off and contemplated her next move.

“Well, is it fixed?” Mr. Squibbles asked. She picked the mouse up and held him over the pot so he could see the ugly mess. His nose twitched, and his tail whipped about in her hands. “Erg, I suggest we bury the pot, but first, fish the horn out.” She pressed her lips together. The mess made her want to heave. She retrieved a pair of tongs to fish around in the pot for the submerged horn and snagged it. When she pulled it out, the pot emitted a wet plop. The horn was completely covered with the slime, and it dripped slowly off of it in gooey globs. It looked like a very straight turd. She had to gag. She laid the horn into the sink and turned on the water.

“Well?” Mr. Squibbles asked running to the edge of the sink.

“Do you think it would damage it if I dipped it in bleach first?”

“What’s bleach?” he asked as he stared at the running faucet in fascination.

“Never mind.” She put on a pair of rubber gloves and gingerly picked up the horn to better rinse off the sludge. The pearly white of the horn began to emerge while the gauze remained firmly brown. She picked at the knot and got it to loosen and fall away. The horn didn’t split into two but stayed in one piece. She ran her gloved hands over where the break had been. A small seam like a scar remained to indicate where it had broke. She tapped the horn gently to test the bond. She feared at any moment the horn would fall apart, but she had to know if it were truly fixed. The horn didn’t break apart. She turned to the mouse for his opinion.

“I guess it worked.”

“I am very uncomfortable with guessing.”

“There’s only one way to be sure.”

“I don’t want to find out that it’s faulty when I teleport only half my body. Could we try any of the other unicorn horn tricks?”

His ears perked up. “I know! Put the tip against your arm and see if it heals the cut!”

She took off the bandage that she’d placed over the cut and turned the tip to it but stopped short of touching it. She looked at Mr. Squibbles. “Is there anything I should say or do to make it heal the wound?”

He shrugged his front legs. “You have more experience with the healing property of horns than I do.”

“What if it doesn’t heal me? Oh God, what if instead of healing me, it makes me sick? Like what if it gives me bubonic plague or a staph infection? What if it’s an anti-horn?”

“An anti-horn?” He didn't sound like he was taking her concern seriously, but looking at it, Naomi firmly believed the horn was more likely to give her a staph infection than heal a cut. “If you want to wait, I’ll understand. This is a life-changing choice and shouldn’t be made lightly.”

She looked down at him. She had made her choice. She was ready to make a life-changing move. She was just being silly. If she got a staph infection, she’d go to the hospital. They could cure that. Shit, they could cure bubonic plague now too. “I’m doing this.”

“That’s my false lady.”

She couldn’t help tensing as she touched herself with the horn. Her bottom lip curled into her mouth. She touched the tip to the cut. As soon as it touched her, she jerked it back.

“Well?” Mr. Squibbles demanded. She turned her arm so she could peer at the scratch, but there was no scratch to peer at. The skin was smooth. She brushed her thumb over the spot, but it was completely healed and showed no signs of having been cut the night before.

“It worked,” she breathed.

“What else do you have to do before you can leave?” he asked. She blinked at her arm, her mind having trouble switching from the miraculous to the mundane. She needed to call work and give notice. She had to call friends and tell them she was leaving. She had to talk to the landlord about switching the lease to her brother. Her stomach churned. The idea of just leaving was more appealing than preparing to leave. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was because if she prepared that meant she was really going to do it and there would be no turning back. If she thought about just leaving, she could change her mind. Naomi knew that her apprehension was silly and illogical. She was going to go back. She’d already decided, but the idea of saying goodbye to her old home and life was gut-wrenching. She was leaving all she knew for something completely unknown. She didn’t know if she could help Tavik and what would happen once she did.

She got ready for the day, deciding that making an appearance in person at the bank was more civil than calling to inform them of her departure. She could pick up the few things she had there while she was at it. She called a couple of her girlfriends and made plans to meet them for lunch. She would tell them the news then. As she set out to do her tasks, she wondered if she could take Mr. Squibbles up on his offer of just staying for a while first, maybe a year. She could let the people adjust to the idea of her leaving. It was pretty shoddy of her to drop this on their laps and then blithely walk away.

She beat her head against the steering wheel of her car. She was parked outside the bank. If she put it off, would it be easier to leave later? She hated the question because that wasn’t what concerned her. What twisted through her mind was the reason she had to go back. Tavik was in trouble. He needed her help. Yula and Agatha needed her, too. Could she stay comfortably in her world while they struggled in theirs? Mr. Squibbles had said that time was not really a concern with the alicorn. Once she left, she would arrive soon after Mr. Squibbles left. Time wasn’t an issue then, but she couldn’t be so cold and practical as to accept this fact. Time would still go by for her. If she waited a year, or waited at all, could she face the others when she went back without guilt? Could she face Mr. Squibbles? She beat her head on the steering wheel again. This moral dilemma was giving her a headache physically and mentally.