by Lou Anders
Midnight noticed that there were flowers embedded inside the amber of the doors. And in the walls. In the floors. Roses, lilies, and tulips. Sweet peas, carnations, and orchids. Sunflowers, silver bells, and cockle shells. All trapped below the amber. They were beautiful. They were eternally preserved. But also eerie.
All the flowers in the Court of Flowers are dead, thought Midnight.
She had a sudden image pop into her head of herself, trapped inside a block of the honey-colored stone, her fires frozen mid-flicker. She felt an unaccustomed chill. Brrrr…
But she felt even worse when the queen glared at her again. Titania raised her little hand, palm upward. She snapped the fingers of her other hand and suddenly the Absorbing Orb appeared in her grasp.
“Remember this, horsey?” said the queen.
Midnight gulped. She nodded.
“I should think so. You had it in your ear. You had one of my Absorbing Orbs in your nasty ear.”
“I d-don’t have hands…,” stammered Midnight.
The queen wrinkled her nose.
“What do hands have to do with anything?”
“For carrying…”
“Look, horsey,” the queen said. “Someone has been sneaking into my palace and taking my Absorbing Orbs. It’s been going on for a long while now, and I’m getting tired of it. They’re mine. Do you understand me? Mine!”
That was confusing. Midnight was pretty sure Curious had only taken a single orb.
“You’re missing more than one?” she asked.
“Yessssss,” said the queen, drawing her anger out in an obnoxious, exaggerated way.
“What do you do with Absorbing Orbs anyway?” asked Midnight.
“Light the palace with them at night, of course,” said the queen. “And now whole rooms and corridors are all dark. I don’t like the dark. So now I want to know, how did a horrible little horsey like you get my Absorbing Orb? And where are all the others?”
“I don’t know anything about the others,” said Midnight. “I don’t even know about this one.”
“I find that very unlikely,” said the queen. “I know about you night mares. You stick together, and you stay in your Whisperwood where you belong. But here you are, traveling on Tom’s raft, away from your hex, or jinx, or whatever you call it.”
“Curse,” said Midnight.
“Don’t you dare,” said the queen, cupping her hands to the sides of her head. “My young ears are too sensitive to hear it!”
Of course, she wasn’t really young at all. She was just pretending at being young.
“No, you misunderstand,” Midnight began to explain.
“No, I don’t,” said the queen. “I understand perfectly well. You’re the one who has been crossing the river to steal my orbs. Now you tell me why, and where the other ones are, and you tell me right now.”
She stamped her foot, and a little flash of light shot through the amber.
“I haven’t stolen anything,” protested Midnight. “And I don’t know anything about your other Absorbing Orbs. I only wanted the wink inside of it so I could control my fire.”
Titania looked at the orb in her hand. For whatever reason, the wispy wood wink inside it had dimmed, so it’s possible she didn’t even see it.
“You can tell me now, or you can tell me later,” said the queen.
“There’s nothing to tell,” insisted Midnight. In fact, she was so insistent that she shot a little blast of fire. But the queen wasn’t fazed. She just stepped to the side and the fire flew past.
“ ‘There’s nothing to tell, Your Majesty,’ you mean,” she said. “Well, I think that after a night in my dungeon, you may change your mind.”
She waved a hand then.
Midnight tried to leap away, but where she landed, the amber under her hooves grew soft. It was like thick goo. She couldn’t lift her legs out of it. In fact, she was sinking, down, down into the thick, syrupy mush.
Midnight panicked. She started to thrash and buck. Her mane burned but her hooves were too glopped with goop. She pictured herself again trapped inside the amber forever.
“Help!” she cried, though she didn’t know who would help her. In no time at all, she had sunk so low into the floor that the little queen was above her. Titania looked down at Midnight as she slipped away.
“Don’t worry,” said the queen as Midnight disappeared into the floor. “You’ll like it in my dungeon. It’s dark, just like you.”
And then Midnight was swallowed up, and the floor became solid once again.
Midnight was gone.
Curious had a conundrum.
On the one hoof, his ordeal was over if he wanted it to be. He was safely back on the right side of the River Restless. No kelpies trying to drown him. No festerlings trying to fester him. No night mares trying to stomp him. And no pumpkins trying to do whatever it was they were trying to do. He was safe. He was secure. A unicorn among unicorns. And that—he knew—was nothing to sneeze at.
On the other hoof, he had a growing suspicion that Queen Titania was not taking Midnight home despite her promise to do so. Oh, she was a marvelous queen for unicorns—as long as you didn’t mess up her parades or steal her Absorbing Orbs. But she probably wasn’t a good queen for night mares, or anyone who came from the other side of the river.
On the third hoof, what did any of that have to do with him? He hadn’t intended to cross the river, get chased by Jack o’ the Hunt, and go to the Curse. A lot of that seemed to have been Midnight’s fault. Why should he care about her anyway? She wasn’t a unicorn. She was a night mare. A Creature of Wickedness. Goldenmane and Queen Titania were probably right: it was better that unicorns stay on their side and night mares stay on theirs.
The only problem was…Curious had one more hoof.
And on that hoof, he knew that it was Midnight who had saved him again and again. Midnight had been by his side when Grace had run off—and where was Grace anyway? Midnight had shared his interest in wispy wood winks. Oh, she wanted to eat it, not study it for scientific purposes, but she did make Plans, which were kind of like Experiments. He liked that she was going and doing and not sitting around eating marshmallows all day. Horses like Curious and Midnight, they were…well, they were…curious.
And that was the problem. He was always doing things the Blessing didn’t like or agree with or even understand. He had to admit, he just wasn’t like the other unicorns.
So maybe he didn’t have to be like other unicorns.
If he wanted to make sure his friend was okay, he would. And if she was in trouble, he’d save her. And if she wasn’t, what was the harm? The queen had invited him to the palace sometime, hadn’t she? Sometime could be anytime.
Of course, it wouldn’t do to tell the other unicorns what he was up to. They wouldn’t understand. They might not even let him go. Curious waited until nightfall. And in the meantime, he pretended to be a unicorn just doing unicorn things. He fed the golden goose, and he even came in second place in the marshmallow eating contest.
Finally night came, and the unicorns settled down for bed.
The Blessing slept inside a large ring of mushrooms, a fairy ring. When you see one it means that fairies have danced upon the grass the night before. At the Glistening Isles, the ring never wilted. In fact, its mushrooms were quite large, shoulder high on a unicorn.
There was just one gap where the Blessing could slip in and out.
“Bedtime,” said Goldenmane as Curious lingered by the gap.
“Right,” said Curious. He pretended to yawn. “I’m probably tired after my horrible ordeal and all.”
Goldenmane nodded, but the head of the Blessing must have been suspicious, because he lay down right across the exit.
Well, that was a problem.
But Curious wasn’t daunted. Oh, no. He
waited until Goldenmane looked asleep. Then he gathered himself and one, two, three, he jumped. It was a big jump for him, but he managed it. He sailed right over the red-and-white caps and landed on the grass on the other side. Then, checking to see he hadn’t been spotted, Curious trotted into the Willowood.
By this time, the night was quite advanced. But a night in the Willowood is still glorious and bright. There were plenty of fireflies and crystal critters and pixies scattering their sparkling dust. It was everything a good fairy forest should be.
So off he went.
At least until someone behind him demanded, “Where are you going?”
Of course it was Goldenmane. He hadn’t been asleep after all. He’d only been pretending.
“That way,” said Curious, pointing with a hoof.
“Didn’t I tell you—?” began Goldenmane.
“You told me to stay away from the River Restless,” said Curious. “The River Restless is that way.” And here he pointed with a hoof in the opposite direction.
“And I told you not to have anything to do with that night mare again.”
“You told me not to mention her again. I haven’t mentioned her. At least, not until you brought her up just now.”
“Curious,” said Goldenmane, “I am very disappointed in you. Don’t disappoint me further.”
“I’m just going to the palace,” said Curious. “Queen Titania said she would take the night mare home. If she has, I’ll come right back. And that will be the end of that.”
Goldenmane shook his golden mane.
“Why should it matter what the queen chooses to do with the night mare creature?”
“Because she saved me,” said Curious.
“I doubt that,” said Goldenmane. “But if she did, she had her own twisted reasons.”
“Yes,” said Curious. “She said she saved me to prove she was better than we were.”
“Well, that’s absurd,” said Goldenmane. “Unicorns are obviously better than night mares.”
“Not if I stay here, we’re not,” said Curious. “If I stay here doing nothing, then we’re considerably worse.” And he trotted forward.
“Curious,” called Goldenmane after him. “If you leave here tonight, we may not welcome you back.”
Curious stopped then. He’d been in trouble before. Plenty of times. But this—being unwelcome in the herd? That was something else.
Goldenmane saw him hesitate.
“Think about it,” the leader of the Blessing said. “All on your own. Without any other unicorns. You’d be alone, an outcast. And for what? A night mare! Ask yourself, is she really worth it?”
“I don’t know,” said Curious.
Goldenmane tossed his head in horsey triumph. He thought he’d won the argument.
“I don’t know,” repeated Curious. He gave a toothy grin. “But I’m curious to find out.”
And with that, he galloped into the woods, heading toward the queen’s palace and Midnight the night mare.
Midnight was in a proper dungeon.
Unlike the rest of Queen Titania’s palace, the dungeon wasn’t made of amber and frozen flowers. It was rock and stone, deep under the ground. Dark and dank and chilly. It was all the things that a dungeon should be.
It didn’t look much like it was made by fairies. Probably it was built by those wild, blue-tattooed people who had lived on the Glistening Isles before they glistened. Before the Court of Flowers and the Court of Thistles came to chase them all away.
Midnight was in one of the dungeon cells now. It was a square room, hardly big enough for her to turn around in, with a ceiling so low her ears scraped against it when she perked them up.
And she had to perk them up, because the light was dim here, so she needed to hear what she could hear because she couldn’t see what she could see.
Only, so far, all she could hear was that sort of empty nothing you would expect from a dungeon. Just her own nervous breathing. And the occasional drip, drip, drip of moisture seeping through the stones. Nothing else.
Midnight snorted a little flame. It flickered in the darkness, reflecting in the solid wall of amber that sealed her in.
Yes, amber. Because whatever door that had once locked people in this cell had been made of wood. And it had rotted away long ago.
So the queen made a door of amber to trap prisoners in their cell. It didn’t have a knob or a latch. It simply appeared and disappeared as the queen commanded.
Midnight couldn’t whisk it away. She didn’t have that kind of magic.
She just had her fire.
Her wild, crazy, hard-to-control, unpredictable fire.
What good could that do her here, trapped in a small stone room behind a wall of amber?
She gave it a kick.
And hurt her hoof.
It was hard. Hard like stone.
She turned and gave it both back legs. Hard as she could.
And nearly knocked herself silly when she was propelled into the far wall.
She blew another burst of fire and studied the result.
It was undamaged. Smooth as brown glass.
So kicking wouldn’t work.
She was frightened.
But as I’ve said before, fear didn’t really last long inside Midnight.
Her fires were too hot. They were getting hot now, burning up all her fear and turning it to anger.
She blew another blast and saw herself reflected in the amber.
Fire. Amber.
Amber, hard like stone. Smooth like glass.
Would it heat like stone?
Or would it melt like glass?
Midnight’s ears perked up.
She had an idea. It was a good one.
She just needed her fire.
A lot of fire.
She began to stomp. She snorted and neighed, anger stoking her flames.
And she began to burn, burn, burn.
She channeled that flame at the door.
Little tongues of fire were curling this way and that. It was hot. Blazing. In a very small space.
The door began to melt.
A little hole appeared right in the middle of the amber wall. The hole grew and grew.
It was working!
Midnight burned hotter and hotter.
Soon she had a hole in the doorway big enough she could step through it.
So she did.
Now, the smart thing would be to escape right away. Isn’t that what you would do if you had just gotten out of a dungeon cell? That’s what I’d do, I’m sure.
But this wasn’t Midnight’s Plan.
She wanted her wispy wood wink.
Instead of looking for a way out, she was looking for a way up.
She was going to find the place where the queen kept her Absorbing Orbs, and she was going to get the one with her wink in it. And then she was going to escape.
She heard something.
A kind of clomp, clomp, clomp sound.
Someone was coming. Oh, no! Midnight wasn’t ready to be caught.
She ducked around a corner and hid as best she could. She waited for whoever was coming.
Clomp, clomp, clomp.
The clomping approached her corner.
The clomping rounded her corner.
The clomping arrived.
She leapt at the clomp maker.
“Ow!” screamed Curious as Midnight barreled into him.
“?!?!?!?!” replied Midnight as they tumbled and stumbled, their legs all tangly.
“!!!!!” he snorted in response.
Midnight and Curious struggled to separate and stand.
“What are you doing here?” they both said at once.
“I was looking for—” they b
oth answered at once.
But then Curious said “you” just as Midnight started to say “the wispy wood wink,” but she only got as far as “the wispy woo.” She stopped, openmouthed.
“You were looking for me?” she said.
“Well, yes,” said Curious. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Why would you be?” she asked. “You were home. With your unicorns.”
“I was home, yes, but, well, you weren’t. Not in your home. I mean, I had to make sure you were all right, didn’t I? I wasn’t exactly sure the queen was taking you home straightaway. But if you’re a guest of the court—”
“I’m not a guest!” Midnight interrupted. “I’m a prisoner. She put me in a dungeon.”
“A dungeon?” repeated Curious. Now it was his turn to be surprised. “Are you sure it was a dungeon?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Maybe you only thought it was a dungeon. Have you been in many dungeons before?”
“We’re in a dungeon now!”
Curious looked around. Midnight had traveled a bit and here the walls were more amber than stone. They had some pretty flowers in them. He gave her a skeptical look.
“It’s worse behind me,” Midnight said. “Anyway, I need to keep moving. I need to get my Absorbing Orb—”
“You mean my Absorbing Orb.”
“I think you promised it to me. If I got you home. And you are home. Anyway, I need that, and then I need to escape.”
Curious gave her another skeptical look.
“I need to escape the rest of the way,” she explained. “I’m out of the cell but not out of the palace. And the queen isn’t going to just let me go.”
“Why not?” said Curious.
Midnight fixed him with a fiery look.
“Someone has been stealing her Absorbing Orbs for a while now, and she thinks it’s me.”
“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry about that. Wait? Orbs? She’s lost more than one of them?”
“A whole bunch, apparently,” said Midnight.
“But I only took the one.”
“Then who’s been taking the others?” asked Midnight.
“I can’t help you there,” said Curious.
“Then if you don’t mind,” said Midnight, and she began to trot away.
