Unicorn Tracks

by Julia Ember

  I squeezed my eyes shut and rushed out the door to stop the flow of emotion. I couldn’t think about her return right now.

  Slipping unnoticed among the soldiers as they saddled their horses and loaded equipment into wagons, I crept to the makeshift stables to find Elikia. Most of the horses were already out of their stalls and the attendants took no notice of me as I peered over doors, swiping a spare bridle as I went.

  Elikia munched hay in a stall at the very end of the block. When she saw me, her head lifted and she nickered softly, ears twitching back and forth. I reached in to scratch her forehead, and she leaned into my touch. “I’m sorry I left you behind, girl.”

  My fingers curled around the metal bolt and I tried to tug it open. It held fast. Looking down, I groaned. A large silver padlock dangled from the bolt, securing it place. General Zuberi had anticipated that I might not obey him and had taken extra precautions. Scanning the stalls of the other remaining horses, I realized that all of them were locked as well. Damn it.

  “Ahem.”

  Closing my eyes, I slowly turned around. Kara stood with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing the silken nightgown the general’s attendants had put aside for her. Her long white legs were bare, but she had hastily stuffed her feet into a pair of sturdy leather boots. Smudged circles of the coal she’d only half washed off made her eyes look even fiercer than usual. Her wild hair had been pinned back into a quick ponytail.

  “Please don’t tell me you were thinking of doing something stupid without me.”

  “I—”

  She scowled. “That was rhetorical. And don’t lie to me either. At least I caught you before you left.”

  I pointed to the lock on Elikia’s stall door. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Kara rolled her eyes, flashing me a devious grin. She pulled a pin out of her hair and knelt by the lock. “You have no imagination, sometimes.”

  “I suppose you just picked that up at boarding school as well.”

  She smirked as the lock clicked open and then tucked the pin back into her red curls. “Political rallies, remember? My father wasn’t totally naïve. He did try to keep me from going sometimes.”

  Looking around to make sure none of the attendants were watching us, I rushed inside the stall, throwing the reins over Elikia’s head and hopping aboard while Kara picked the lock on Brekna’s stall. The stallion was fresh, and when she swung onto his back he burst from his stable, prancing about and snorting. I reached over and gave one of his reins a sharp jerk, hoping he would get the message and start behaving.

  Most of the camp had gone dark, as the army had taken their torches with them on the march. I didn’t want to light a torch of our own until after we made it out of the camp, so we had to rely on the moon and on the horses’ keener eyesight to navigate through the maze of pitched tents.

  While the army left the camp from the west, I took us east. We worked our way through the grasslands in a wide arch before falling into place a few hundred meters behind the General’s slowest supply carts. Over the clamor of wheels, groaning oxen, marching feet, and a hundred war stallions, nobody noticed us trailing behind them, bathed in shadow. I didn’t understand how the General could possibly believe he’d have the advantage of surprise, with all the noise his troops made. At least they would frighten away any predators hiding in the long grass.

  When the warm haze of Arusei’s camp became visible over the hill, I motioned to Kara, and we slipped away, urging our horses back into the little oasis to hide. The General’s drummers began to beat the huge barrels, carried between two elephants at the start of the column. The sun slowly crept up behind the poacher’s camp, illuminating the muddy labyrinth in a bath of red light. I shuddered. The way the rays reflected off the pools of dirty water made it look like blood ran through the site already.

  A loud bang returned the grim overture of the General’s drums. My breath stopped, my throat closing with fear. That was a cannon shot. Molten metal punched a hole in the middle of the column, raining burning death over a dozen men before they even had time to scream.

  “Go!” General Zuberi yelled above the chaos. “We can’t give them time to reload.”

  His men began pouring into the camp. As I predicted, none of Arusei’s slaves fought, but the poachers used their army of laborers as camouflage. They hid amongst them, concealing their guns. The General’s men looked around in confusion for the enemy, unable to distinguish between the poachers and their kidnapped victims. A shot rang out, and one of the drummers tumbled down from the elephant.

  “Arrest all of them!” General Zuberi screamed, kicking his white horse forward into the melee. “We will sort through them once we have them in chains.”

  A collective war howl erupted from the General’s men, and they set upon the poachers. More shots fired, and I saw drops of blood fly as the claw-blades the warriors wore ripped through flesh.

  I swallowed, turning away. The slash of those claws triggered unwanted memories. Movement at the edge of the trees caught my eye, and I heard the crunch of dry grass. Turning Elikia to face the source of the sound, I pulled out my binoculars and focused in.

  At first all I could see was the smooth black of horsehair peeking through the leaves. I adjusted the dials and scanned upward, looking for the man’s face. I gazed into his dark eyes, glittering with spite. Arusei.

  While his men fought to avoid the Pits, their leader snuck away through the quiet fields, trying to melt into the dim light of the early morning. The cowardice of it made me hate Arusei even more. And if we’d stayed at the camp, like the General ordered, nobody would have seen him sneak away. With all the powerful contacts he had made abroad, I was sure he could find allies willing to help him out of the country.

  There was no way I would let him escape. He’d kidnapped my cousin, tortured the only family member who had always had my back. I pulled my rifle over my shoulder and took aim.

  “What is it? What are you doing?” Kara whispered.

  Swallowing hard, my fingers trembling, I pulled the trigger.

  The rifle kicked back with enough force to leave my shoulder numb.

  “Son a bitch!” Arusei screamed as the bullet lodged in his shinbone. His horse squealed, spinning around on its haunches. Arusei dropped from the saddle like a sack of corn, clutching his leg and howling.

  “You shot him. I can’t believe you actually shot him.” Kara covered her mouth.

  “He’ll live,” I said, nudging Elikia forward out of the trees. I pulled my shawl over my head, covering my face so he couldn’t recognize me, leaving Kara behind in the woods. Blood pounded in my ears, and my hands shook so much that I struggled to hold my reins. Part of me couldn’t believe I’d shot him either.

  As I drew my horse alongside him, Arusei looked up. His howls had quieted to pain-filled moans and whimpers as he struggled to bind the wound with strips of cloth torn from his jacket.

  “Going to finish the job?” He glared at me, eyes steady and unafraid.

  I shook my head, pushing him over onto his back with my foot. “I’ll leave it up to you. Scream loud enough, and I’m sure the General’s forces will pick you up. Or you could let an animal finish you off—but sometimes they start with the feet.”

  His eyes widened in real fear now. I turned Elikia around and motioned for Kara. We needed to get back to camp or risk being caught. The General’s soldiers would have heard the shot and someone would already be on their way to investigate now, whether Arusei screamed or not. But he didn’t know that. And while I could never be cruel enough to leave someone—even a man like Arusei—to a death by wild animals, I could let him think that I would.

  “We’re actually going to leave him?” Kara hissed.

  I nodded, and for once, she didn’t argue.

  I PEERED out from our tent flap. We’d snuck back into camp without being noticed, and Kara had curled back into an exhausted ball beneath the duvet. The clatter of metal and groaning, tired horses had roused me fr
om the bed.

  General Zuberi rode at the head of a large column. The warriors at the front of the column dragged men in chains behind them. The prisoners wore muzzles with metal bars over their tongues and thick shackles connected their limbs. A few of them cried openly, wailing around the gags, knowing they were destined for the Pits. A team of horses dragged Arusei’s own gilded cage along behind them. Inside, a crumbled figure sat huddled and naked in the corner with his head in his hands. Some of the younger soldiers threw things at him through the bars. An apple core hit his face and Arusei shrank away, covering his eyes. Spotting my father, I rushed out to greet him.

  Father raised his eyebrows when he saw me, but from the proud twinkle in his eye and the way he bit his lip, I could tell that the General had told him of the conversation in the tent.

  He hugged me with one arm, kissing the top of my head. “Glad to find you here and see you have some sense after all.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him, almost sighing with relief that none of the attendants had reported us.

  Father’s gaze traveled back to Arusei’s cage and a cruel gleam appeared in his eyes. “He won’t last long in the Pits. I bet he’ll take the way out the first time the dagger is offered. But General Zuberi is thinking about making special provisions, just for him. Five year gaps between offerings.”

  I shuddered. A minimum sentence of five years in the Pits, without death as a means of escape. Even Arusei might not deserve that.

  “Mnemba.” I heard Tumelo’s voice, and I whirled around, scanning the rows of warriors.

  He stepped forward, covered in a coarse brown blanket. I dove for him, wrapping my arms around him tighter than a constricting python. He winced, squeezing me back with his free arm. The column of warriors streamed past us. “Not so hard. I have lots of whip marks on my back.”

  Grudgingly, I loosened my hold on him. In just a few days, he looked and felt smaller. His cheeks had a strange pinched look to them. Dark bags hung under his eyes. But the biggest difference was how he carried himself. My cousin always walked proudly, with his chest out, daring the world. Now his back was hunched and his chest caved in.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. Rethinking, “Will you be okay?”

  Tumelo ran a hand over my head, messing up my new braids. “I’ll be fine. The real question is—did you bring my cigars?”

  I groaned. Cigars—of all the things he could want right now: a bed, some food, a glass of clean water… he wanted his dragon’s breath sticks. “Don’t you think you should eat something first?”

  Tumelo pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “The breath of life, Mnemba! After all I’ve been through, how could you deny it to me?”

  Rolling my eyes, I patted his shoulder. “Mama keeps saying you’re killing yourself from the inside out, but I’m sure if you ask him nicely, Father will have one stashed away somewhere.”

  “How is your blessed mama? I heard you finally went home. I should get myself kidnapped and enslaved more often.”

  At least his time under Arusei’s yoke had done nothing to damage his spirit or his sense of humor. I resisted the urge to slap him, for the sake of his broken body. Looking past him, I asked, “Where is Kara’s father?”

  “Medic’s tent.”

  I stared at him with disbelief, my heart pounding. How could something have happened to him now, right before he was rescued? And how could I possibly tell Kara? “Was he shot? What happened?”

  Tumelo shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. But his back’s infected, and he needs some stitches. They’ve lined all the ones up needing medical attention. He’ll probably be there half the night. You might as well rest in your tent. I’ll tell him where to find you. They’ve got us sharing.”

  I let myself exhale. “Thank goodness, I couldn’t have told Kara—”

  “How is your saucy redhead? Traumatized? Is she even sexier as the damsel in distress?”

  Whip sores be damned, I punched his shoulder.

  “Not denying it anymore, hmm?” He smirked. Turning me around, he gave me a push. “Well go on, then. Unless you’re going to be useful and track down a cigar for me, get back to your ladylove. I’ll tell her father where to find you in a few hours when the medics set him free.”

  KARA STILL slept curled in a fetal position, her arm reaching over her back into the space I’d vacated. I crawled back into the comfort of our bed. Our. Calling it that made a dizzy warmth spread through my body. I lifted her arm and melted back into my position, whispering against her neck. “Your father’s back.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “What, have you seen him? Where is he?”

  “He’s getting a few stitches. Nothing major. Tumelo said he’d send him to find you later. It’s going to be a while—apparently there’s a line.”

  “He’s safe. That’s what matters.” She closed her eyes as she nestled into my chest. Warm feet pressed against my freezing legs. “I didn’t even feel you get up. How’s Tumelo?”

  “A little battered but still making fun of me, so he can’t be too bad.” I paused, picking at the sheets as I muttered, “He knows about us.”

  Kara propped herself up on one elbow and looked into my eyes. For a moment I mistook the intensity in her stare for accusation. I kicked myself for being so careless—for letting Tumelo suspect. She was leaving in less than a week to go home. And she had a life there. Things, a fancy house, a fiancé, her research. How could she be happy here? In a backward, unfamiliar country, where she didn’t speak the language? The warmth of the blankets suddenly felt overwhelming. I shoved the sheets aside and let the cold night air sting my legs.

  “I don’t care.” She reached for my hand, and my fingers froze in her grasp. “I love you, and whatever my father says, I’m not going back.”

  “What?” I croaked. I fought for words, and my mind came up blank.

  Kara sighed, slapping my hand playfully. “You’re not supposed to say ‘what’ when someone tells you they love you.”

  “How?” I whispered. Fear and bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t relish the moment, not yet. I needed her to say it again. “Don’t say you’re going to stay here when we both know it’s impossible.”

  “Despite everything that has happened, I have never felt more alive than I have in the last week. I don’t want to go back to my books and my big house. We look after each other. We’re a team. If I stay here, my father can say I’ve gone mad or something. The king won’t press it, not if I don’t return.” She sucked in a deep breath. “No one has ever looked at me like you do. At home, most people think I’m too fat.”

  “How do I look at you?”

  “Like you want to protect me and devour me whole at the same time.”

  Finally, I let what she was saying sink in. She loved me. She wasn’t leaving. I was more than an adventure. I exhaled, lowered my mouth to the skin of her thigh, nibbling the dimpled flesh. “I love you too.”

  Her fingers ran along the ridges between my cornrows. Tossing the blanket over my back, she sat up, raising the covers like a tent over our heads. Firelight glowed through the white, and I felt like we were encased in a sunlit cloud. Kara’s fingers worked their way down to my shoulders and then lower, to my chest, cupping my dark breasts in her pale hands.

  When I pressed my mouth to hers, relief flooded through my body. I felt no trace of fear. Our kiss was messy. My tongue lapped against hers like a dying man catching rain. The desperate pressure of her lips against mine hurt. My lips were too dry. Hers too wet. Still, in the passionate wrongness of it, I found perfection.

  “Ahem,” said a male voice on the outside of our fortress.

  With shaking fingers, Kara lowered the cover.

  Tumelo stood looking down at us, his eyes laughing. But a step behind him, bearing no trace of a smile whatsoever, was Mr. Harving.

  Tumelo had lied twice. Mr. Harving stumbled forward, using a crutch to support his weight. Whatever injury he’d suffered was a lot worse than a few stitches, and
the medic had prioritized him. Kara and I sprang apart; the action sealed our guilt.

  “Kara?” Mr. Harving asked, hovering at the edge of the bed. “What is going on? What are you doing?”

  Over his head, Tumelo mouthed, “Sorry!”

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have thrown my socks at him.

  Kara sat up slowly, lifting her chin to meet her father’s eye. “I’m in love with her.”

  Despite what he had just caught us doing, Mr. Harving’s eyes bulged in shock. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kara. You’ve known her less than two weeks. We’re leaving in a few days and if you ask me, the sooner we get out of this hellish place and away from poachers, the better.”

  “I’m in love with her,” Kara repeated, and my eyes welled with tears. No amount of lip biting could stop the flow of emotion now. “I’m not going back with you. I hope you’ll visit me, and you can tell people whatever you like: that I got sick, that your capture drove me mad and I’ve been institutionalized, the truth. But I’m not going back.”

  “What about Timothy?”

  Kara shrugged. “What about him? We don’t care for each other. If I stay here, the king will declare me as good as dead. The astrologer will find someone else for Timothy. Maybe he’ll get lucky and find someone he’s in love with as well.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about love!” Mr. Harving shouted, wincing in pain as he stepped onto his bad leg. “Love grows over time. It’s slow. It develops. What you feel is lust, driven by this whole accursed situation.”

  Kara’s chin jutted stubbornly. “It’s not.”

  “What will you do here? Live in a tent in the wilderness? You’ll have no prospects. No job. What about our research?” Mr. Harving’s voice broke. He fished a dirty handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “You honestly want me to leave you here, with nothing but your feelings? Feelings won’t feed you, Kara. And in a month’s time when you’ve realized you’ve made a mistake? You’ll be disgraced. You’ll come back to Echalend and none of our friends will see you. I can’t do that. I care too much for you.”