Running On Empty

WILLOW AND THE UNICORN (Write to Rank 2023 Round 3)

"Any sign of him?" The man spat into the dirt.

"No. Ebenezer believes he's given up." His companion sat, and began polishing his broadsword.

The first man scoffed. "Wizards never give up."

In the tree above, a pair of green eyes opened, then narrowed. That one has a grain of sense, Willow thought. Her tail switched, then the small black cat turned and ghosted away through the branches. My master won't give up. He has me.

***

"Excellent reconnaissance, Willow. I shall create a distraction, and with the camp mostly empty, you'll be free to enter the keep. The unicorn will take care of herself once she is loosed."

The wizard, Alastair, touched his wand to his Familiar's back. The Cat felt the surge of magic from her whiskers to the tip of her sleek tail.

"They have a dog to sound the alarm, Master."

"The dog will be starved, and easy to distract."

He raised his wand. Clouds swirled and blotted out the stars to the north of the camp, then a vortex of purple and green sparks spiraled down. Harmless, but impressive.

***

"There he is! Follow Ebenezer and the Crone! Surround the bastard!"

The crowd of men sprinted into the woods. They followed their leader, who rode a bay stallion. The Crone, a mage of the Sun Faith, rode behind him.

Willow trotted into the abandoned camp.  She seized a roasted duck's leg from a plate near a fire, and darted into the old stone keep.

A black dog, the size of a small bear and twice as bristly, charged to the end of a thick chain secured to a massive wooden beam.  The chain rattled as the beast yelped, almost jerked from its feet.

    Before it recovered, Willow dashed in and dropped the meaty bone on the dirt floor.  The dog snarled at her, then fell upon the duck leg as though it hadn't seen food in a lifetime.  Willow ignored the crunching of the bones in its cavernous jaws as best she could.

    She approached the unicorn.

    The creature, a mare in her eighth or ninth year based on the spirals of her horn, tossed her head.  She pawed at the salt circle with a delicate golden hoof, but the camp's Crone evidently knew how to create powerful circles of imprisonment. The circle held.

    Willow arched her back, feeling her fur stand on end along her back and her tail expand to a bottle brush, and gathered her Familiar's magic.

    "Begone!"

    Willow whipped around, pinning her ears at a short, squat human in a monk's robe.  A Rook of the Sun Faith, considered a skilled priest.

    "Begone, foul Moon Demon!" He waved a pendant at her: the Burning Pyre,  with its tortured, featureless human figure, cast in pewter. 

    Willow turned to the protective circle, her tail lashing disrespectfully as she displayed her bottom to the Rook.  She released her magic in a hiss.

    The fine salt scattered into infinity and the circle vanished.  The unicorn's coat glowed like the Moon herself, even in the dim light of the keep.  The mare snorted and shook her horn at the Rook.

    The Burning Pyre trembled in the man's hand. He ran.

    The unicorn lowered her head in a graceful bow to the Cat.  "I am grateful, Familiar," the mare said.  "Your master is nearby?"

    "Yes, Your Grace."

    The unicorn bent down.  "We will travel more quickly if you ride. Hold fast to my mane, if you must."

Outside, an aged female voice cried, "The beast is loose! Everyone, to me!"

Willow sprang to the unicorn's withers. The mare kicked open the doors, splintering the wood. She strode into the camp to find a half-circle of men, and the Crone, surrounding them. Alastair's distraction hadn't been quite enough.

The unicorn snorted disdainfully, laid back her ears, and reared. An angry neigh split the night. Her hoofs struck the cobblestones outside the keep, raising sparks the size of apples. Trees, clothing, tents, everything the sparks touched, erupted into flame.

The humans fled, some screaming as they burned.

A real Burning Pyre, Willow thought. She held a tuft of the unicorn's mane in her teeth as the mare broke into a gallop.

***

They found Alastair where Willow had left him. The wizard rose and made a courtly bow as the unicorn trotted to him. "Your Grace."

"Wizard. You and your Familiar have my gratitude." The mare touched her horn to his outstretched palm. "Cat, please gift your master with a lock of my hair."

Alastair nodded at Willow, his eyes twinkling. The Cat pulled a few long, shining hairs from the flowing mane, and jumped onto Alastair's shoulders. The unicorn turned, and melted into the night.

The wizard scratched the Cat's ear. "Merciful Moon, what a night's work. Let's go home."

Author's Note: This is a prequel to my novella, The Prophecy and the Familiar.