They delivered the food without incident, then a bucket of water from a little creek nearby. The herders and their unicorns kept their distance, except to place the bucket and the feed within reach. Twig was pleased to see Bounce stand to drink from the bucket.
“It’s strange to see them like this.”
“This is how they were,” Ben said wistfully, “before. Ash isn’t as fierce as some. It might not be so easy with the others. But it’s a start. A nice start.”
“This is the first day I’ve really felt like a herder.” Twig smiled sheepishly.
Ben met her eyes with a serious gaze. “May it be the first of many.”
Stay, Twig. You have to find a way to stay. She heard the unspoken words. She heard them, but she had no answer. No answer but good-bye.
“She’s looking better,” she whispered. At least she’d gotten to see that before she had to go.
“Ready?” Ben said.
Twig nodded. “I miss the Murleys and Rain Cloud and the girls…”
“And the food.” Ben grinned.
“You should come in and stay for dinner before you go.”
“No…I wouldn’t want anyone to change their minds.”
Chapter 8
Casey yelped, and Twig bolted out of bed and to the window, heart pounding. Not again!
Bam!
The last time Twig had wakened to banging in the night, it had been Dagger and the wild herd, on the verge of breaking through the stable doors to get at Wonder. But this was more of a tapping, and it was closer. Outside the window, night hung heavy over the ranch, the sky lightened only by the mist. Anyone could be out there. Anything.
Bam, bam.
“It’s a knock,” Twig realized with relief. Just someone knocking.
“Ben!” both the girls said at once.
They bounded to the door, Casey clutching her battered old doll to her chest. Twig threw the bedroom door open. All along the hallway, bedroom doors opened and girls called out anxiously.
Mr. Murley was already at the front door, hair standing on end, shotgun in hand. Mrs. Murley gathered the other girls in the entryway and tried to hold them back, just in case. Casey’s arms shook as she squished the cloth body of her doll. Its heavily lashed eyelids rattled open and shut.
“What if it’s not Ben? What if someone else came from Terracornus?” Casey said.
Twig waited for someone to say that was impossible, but no one did—not skeptical Regina, not practical Taylor, not upbeat Janessa, who was always ready to reassure. Ben was keeping secrets about Terracornus; they all knew it. What did they really know about Terracornus or its people? Would someone come after Ben? Could they?
Twig recalled the first time Ben had led her through the terrifyingly thick ring of mist in the center of the island, then through another circle, this one formed by hemlock trees whose branches swept to the forest floor. They guarded the ancient passage tree, a red cedar whose trunk held a hidden door that led to Terracornus. Ben wore a key to that door around his neck, and so did Merrill. “I’m not the only one with a key,” Ben had told her. Who else had a key besides him and Merrill?
Twig ducked around the others so she could slide the locks open, while Mr. Murley kept the shotgun trained on the door. She opened it a crack.
Ben stood there, gasping. He flung the door against the wall before Twig had a chance to let him in. “It’s Indy. He’s gone. He’s just—gone!”
“Is he dead?” Casey said.
“No!” Ben said too firmly. “He’s disappeared. He won’t answer when I call. I cannot find him anywhere.”
Mr. Murley said, “Come inside, Ben, and we’ll figure this out.”
Ben grabbed Twig’s arm. “You have to come. You have to help me.”
“Definitely.” Twig reached for her all-weather shell.
“Wonder will know where Indy went. She’s his daughter and part of his herd. She’ll follow his scent and find him,” Ben said.
“Whoa.” Mrs. Murley tucked her mussed-up brown hair behind her ear. Her face was creased with sleep and concern. “Ben, why don’t you come in first and tell us everything?”
Twig pulled her jacket the rest of the way on and reached for her boots. “We don’t have time. We have to find Indy!”
But Mrs. Murley pulled Ben in.
Twig carried her boots as she followed everyone to the living room.
Ben paced in front of the couch, cape and boots still on, ready to jump into action in an instant.
“Ben,” Mr. Murley said, “is Merrill here on the island?”
“No, he’s not here. I was in the hollow, sound asleep. I thought I heard Indy neigh. I got up and looked outside, and he wasn’t there. He always stays there under his favorite tree at night. Guarding me. Protecting me. He never leaves.”
Twig leaned on the arm of the couch beside him. “Something’s wrong.” A hardness settled in her gut. “We’re wasting time here. Let’s go get Wonder and find him.”
“Hold on,” Mr. Murley said. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“But I’m a herder!” Twig said. “A unicorn is in danger. I have to go.”
Mrs. Murley slipped an arm around Twig. “And we took on the responsibility of protecting you. Of course you’re worried about Indy. It is strange. But the herd has been doing so well. Do you really think they’re a danger to Indy?”
They all stilled, listened. The night was perfectly calm. Not a howl or a cry. Just the misty breeze ruffling the cedars.
“No,” Ben conceded.
“It’s quiet out there,” Mandy pointed out. “Not like before, when they were all crazy.”
Janessa gave Mandy a sharp poke.
Mrs. Murley said, “You can sleep here tonight, Ben, and we’ll all go in the morning.”
It was all Twig could do to hold back her protest. Ben looked like he was about to explode.
“I’ll get the blankets.” Janessa bounced off to the linen closet.
Mr. Murley ran a hand over his rumpled hair. “Indy’s made for the woods. He knows how to handle himself on this island.”
“And he knows not to leave his post!” Ben said. “He wouldn’t just wander away.”
“Maybe he heard or smelled something unusual and went to investigate,” Taylor said. “Animals can be curious just like we are.”
Ben shook his head, too angry now to speak. But Twig had a plan. If only she could talk to Ben alone.
Janessa plopped an armful of blankets onto the couch. Ben just stood there, arms crossed, brooding. The sleeves of the barn jacket Mrs. Murley had given him were smeared with sap, and bits of lichen stuck to it. Clearly he knew nothing about dealing with parents. Twig tried to catch his eye to send him a signal to cooperate, but his gaze was fixed on the floor-to-ceiling windows, as though looking hard enough would make Indy appear, gleaming silver-white, through the darkness.
Chapter 9
It seemed like forever that Twig lay in bed, listening and waiting, watching the glowing red numbers on her bedside clock. How long should she wait? An hour? Two? After forty-five minutes, she couldn’t take it anymore. Indy was missing. What if he was sick or hurt and confused? What was so dangerous about going into the woods at night now that Dagger was gone?
Twig’s heart squeezed with the answer. It is dangerous. Dagger might not be out there anymore, but something was. Something that had everything to do with Indy going missing.
Twig slipped out of bed.
“I knew it!” Casey said it in a whisper, but Twig still jumped. She’d thought Casey was asleep. Casey had gotten good at faking it. She hopped up, short brown hair bobbing. “You have to take me with you this time, please, Twig.”
“Ben would never let me do that, not without Indy.”
There was a pronounced plop on the bed and a muffled utterance of disappointment, the kind that might
be followed by tears. She didn’t have time to console Casey. She had to find Indy. She got dressed, slipped on her mini-backpack, and tiptoed to the door.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered over her shoulder. Then she eased the door open and shut it softly behind her.
Twig stopped. She heard voices. Whispers, and not from the girls. Mr. and Mrs. Murley were still awake. Should she go back?
“Do you really think someone could’ve come here?” Mrs. Murley said. “From Terracornus?”
“I don’t know. They haven’t before…but I can’t stop thinking about those boot prints I saw in the woods earlier. Too big to be Ben’s. I thought they were Merrill’s, but Ben just said he’s back in Terracornus.”
Mrs. Murley said something Twig couldn’t make out.
Mr. Murley changed his tone. “I’m sure Indy’s out there now, at Ben’s camp, wondering where he is. But we can’t take that chance.”
“Those girls are too brave for their own good. Ben’s worse.”
Mr. Murley laughed softly. “Not worse than Twig. Not anymore.”
Twig couldn’t help sticking her chin up at that. She crept into the living room. The fog was thick, and little moonlight shone through the wall of windows on the far side of the room. Twig inched closer to a blanketed lump on one end of the huge sectional couch. She put her hand out to nudge Ben awake and then she heard it—a light thump.
It came from somewhere inside the house. Someone else was up. Twig ducked behind the couch and waited for Mr. or Mrs. Murley to call out. Maybe they’d heard her and gotten up to investigate. But she hadn’t heard a door open, hadn’t heard a sound in the hall.
Another whisper of movement. This time she was sure it came from the entryway. Someone was there, and they were making an effort not to be heard.
Casey?
Twig sneaked out from behind the couch and flattened herself against the wall. She peeked around the corner, then pulled back quickly, heart pounding. A shadowy figure loomed over the threshold, too tall, too broad shouldered to be any of the girls.
Twig darted back to the couch, to Ben. “Ben!” she whispered urgently. “Wake up!” She reached Ben’s sleeping form and gave it a good shake.
“Yes?”
The voice came from behind her. Twig jerked around. She stopped her scream just in time. Ben stood over her, cape and boots on, finger held to his lips.
Twig sank onto the pile of blankets—empty blankets that ought to have been wrapped around a sleeping Ben.
“What,” Ben whispered sharply, “are you doing? Getting a late-night snack?”
Twig jumped to her feet. Hands on her hips, she glared at Ben. “What are you doing? Were you going to take Wonder without me?”
Ben crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t take another rider’s unicorn. Not even to save my own!” The words were more than sharp this time; they came out like grit.
Twig looked at her feet. She didn’t want him to see what she’d just realized written all over her face. She might be tempted to take another rider’s unicorn if she were in Ben’s position. It seemed such an obvious solution.
“I wasn’t going to take Wonder,” Ben said, sounding more like himself. “I’m going to go look for Indy again.”
“By yourself?”
“I cannot just sit here. I certainly cannot sleep.”
“Well, you can’t just walk out the front door either. They’ll hear you for sure.”
“How did you get out all those times when you came to practice at night?” Ben asked.
“Through my window. Come on.” She pointed at Ben’s boots. “Take those off. They’ll hear you in the hall.”
She tiptoed to the entryway to pick up her boots and her all-weather shell. Ben followed. He sat down on the entryway floor and pulled off his boots. “What are we doing?”
“Getting Wonder, of course. And then going to find Indy.”
He looked her up and down. “You planned this.” She was fully dressed, in jeans and not in the sweats she typically wore to bed.
“I couldn’t say anything in front of everyone else. Did you really think I’d just go to sleep? I know I’m not your dad, but we’re partners now, aren’t we? And you know I love Indy. How could you try to go out there without me?”
Ben mumbled something about reading her mind, then grabbed his boots and followed her silently back to her room. The whispers from the Murleys’ room could no longer be heard.
Casey sat up and stared at Twig and Ben, mouth clenched shut, hot pink comforter clutched tight in her hands. Ben gave her a polite, tentative wave.
Casey’s lips trembled. “I’m going to be in trouble for not stopping you. Big trouble.”
Twig put her boots on and gestured for Ben to do the same. “I’m sorry, Casey. We’ll make it up to you.”
Casey yanked her covers over her head and curled into a little ball. Ben gave Twig a perplexed look. She shrugged and slid the window open. The misty chill reached into the bedroom, drawing them into its night-cold grasp. The huddle of pink covers shuddered. Twig gestured for Ben to go out first.
Twig dropped to the ground and slid the window shut, sealing Casey and the rest of the house off from the island chill.
It wasn’t difficult taking Wonder without a fuss from her or the ponies. The stable’s inhabitants were used to Twig creeping inside in the deep of night and leading Wonder into the woods to train. Not wanting the ponies to think something out of the ordinary was going on, Ben left Twig to get Wonder alone. He went ahead, on foot, to the hollow.
As Twig leaped the fence with Wonder and bounded into the trees, her stomach tightened. Ben was out here alone. She should’ve had him wait at the fence and walked Wonder with him. What if whoever had taken Indy was waiting for him?
“Ben?” Twig called as soon as she was near enough to the hollow.
“I’m here!”
She heard his breath and the flap of his cape before he appeared, running through the mist. Twig dismounted. “What do we do now?”
“We wait for Wonder. She’ll find Indy’s scent.”
Twig reached for the flashlight in the pocket of her shell, then pulled her hand back out without it. They couldn’t risk anyone seeing it, even as they ventured deeper into the woods. The Murleys might come looking—and someone else could be watching.
At first Wonder just neighed into the blanket of fog. Twig watched the woods anxiously. She hoped the wrong unicorns wouldn’t respond. Even if some of the wild ones came, meaning no harm, things could so easily go wrong between them and young, inexperienced Wonder.
Wonder sniffed the boughs that sheltered the hollow, then leaped away. Twig scrambled after her in the dark. She caught her lead as she stopped to sniff again. Twig wound Wonder’s lead securely around her wrist just in time. Wonder lurched onward.
“Hold on, Wonder. Slow, girl.”
Wonder neighed her reluctance, but, not quite willing to drag her rider through the undergrowth, she obeyed.
“Twig!” Ben stumbled into her back as Wonder jerked to a stop. He grabbed the back of her jacket to catch himself.
Twig reached backward and groped for his hand. He took her hand and held on fast.
“She’s found his scent.” Ben’s voice was tight with hope, with impatience and anticipation.
“She must’ve. She wants to go this way really bad.”
Wonder plunged on through the damp ferns and the branches coated with moss and draped with lichen. Twig hung on to her lead for dear life, and Ben slipped and slid after them.
“Twig! Tell her to stop.”
“What? Why? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just”—he lowered his voice—“did you hear something?”
“Whoa, Wonder. Just a minute now.”
Wonder pranced in place.
“Shh!” Ben hissed.
“I can’t make her be quiet. She wants to go.”
“I think I just heard it again.”
“If there were other unicorns around us, Wonder would know. Her horn would extend.”
“Not other unicorns. Something else.”
“What else?”
Before Ben could answer, Wonder bounced forcefully. Twig yelped and ran after her with Ben in tow. The mist thickened, and the belt of fear tightened around Twig’s gut. “She’s taking us to the center of the island.”
“To the hemlock circle,” Ben panted between breaths. “The passage.”
“Whoa, Wonder.” Twig glanced back at Ben. “If Indy’s in Terracornus—”
Wonder pranced in a tight circle. Twig turned to face Ben.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, something crashed in the undergrowth nearby. There was a faint moan, a gasp.
“Who’s there?” Ben’s hand left Twig’s and grasped his sword. But the only sound was the smooth slide of steel as he drew his weapon.
Wonder nickered at the wall of thicker fog. She nipped at it, then bounced back again. Wonder called for Indy, as though afraid to enter but knowing she must do it in order to find him. Wonder paid no attention to the woods behind them. To the sounds.
“Maybe it was just a raccoon,” Twig whispered.
“Could be,” Ben said. “Let’s go. Let her go on.”
The branches of the hemlock circle swept down to the forest floor, another circle within the ring of mist, keeping the passage hidden. Wonder squealed in distaste at the branches, and no doubt at taking another step closer to Terracornus. Like all unicorns, she instinctively knew she was close to leaving her world, and she dreaded it. But she also longed for Indy. Ben held the boughs back for Wonder as best he could, and Twig soothed her as she made her way through.
“Your flashlight,” Ben said.
Twig fumbled in her pocket, found it, and flipped it on.
“Here, on the ground.”
Twig shone the light on the ground. Ben knelt next to a series of hoofprints.
“He came through here for sure.” Twig moved her flashlight a few inches over.
The Unicorn Thief Page 4
