Stealing the Dark Moon

The Red Unicorn

Kit pivoted on his crutch, the wood catching and sliding over the loose stones of the mountainside as he hurried back in the direction of the glass box. Yet the creature followed close behind, the terrible chime of its hooves piercing him deep in the marrow of his bones. So absorbed in escaping the mystery monster, Kit failed to notice the wide fissure opening up in front of him until the swing of his crutch hit air. He pitched forward with a loud yelp.

The pillowcase of healing charms slipped from his grasp, spilling all its precious contents into a fifty-foot drop. Kit closed his eyes against the jagged quartz teeth of the boulders waiting below—but his fall was jerked short. Blinking, Kit found himself dangling in midair. A tall, white-haired man balanced the weight of Kit's body on the tip of a single slender finger.

"Careful," the man said, a smile splitting his almost colorless lips. "The Galefang gobbles up clumsy little boys."

Kit gulped. The thundering red beast had vanished—but this man was twice as eerie. Despite his frail frame, the man had to be inhumanly strong to hold him with just one finger! No doubt his rescuer was only pretending to be human, and failing badly. No human possessed hazel eyes with amber pupils that mirrored the raw noon sun, or skin like the blaze of moonlight on snow. The man's pale hair flowed behind him in the mist, erasing the lines of his thin silhouette and lending him a ghostly air as if he wasn't quite all there. It would be most inconvenient if the man evaporated and let him drop the rest of the way . . . or if the red beast returned and knocked them both over.

Kit raised his own finger. "Would you mind setting me down? There's a monster prowling the mountain—" He faltered as he wondered if the monster had already caught him.

"I don't believe in monsters," his rescuer said. He didn't move, merely flicked his finger. Kit flew through the air and crashed onto the ground, choking back a cry as sharp pebbles dug into his knees. The pale man ignored Kit's mumbles, his arms clasped behind him as he gazed past the fissure, deep into the gray mist shrouding the forest canopy below.

Rising up and leaning on his crutch with shaky legs, Kit swallowed a curse at the sting of cuts running across his knees. It would be highly ungrateful to yell at his rescuer, after all. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Thanks for catching me, Sir—?"

"Lord Ash," the man said without turning. "A fine title from a land long rotted from memory, but I'm far more interested in your story." He twisted around in one fluid motion and his hard, bright pupils bore into Kit, forcing him to drop his own eyes. "Alone in the heart of this dreadful glade, aren't you . . . frightened?"

No fangs pressed against his lips or talons curved out of the sleeves of his long burgundy velvet waistcoat, but there was something infinitely unsettling about Lord Ash.

"Not really," Kit said, trying to force confidence into his tone even as he fought the urge to back away. He couldn't let the stranger know about Aerohim, but he wanted to make it clear right away that he wasn't, as Selene would say, a prey animal. "I've done fine so far by myself."

"By yourself?" Lord Ash said, and Kit couldn't tell if he was mocking him or purely astonished. "You're a very imaginative little boy, I like that. But this collar tells me you're obviously somebody's pet."

Kit's jaw dropped as Lord Ash raised his right hand and unfurled a leather cord with a winking ruby scale. His own hand rose to his neck and grasped emptiness. He never even felt the gate medallion stolen away!

"That's mine," Kit said, pushing forward. Too late.

He stumbled as Lord Ash crushed the scale in his hand. The sound of its shattering bit deep into Kit's skull like the grind of glass. Lightning crackled from the pale man's fingers as he tossed a puff of glittering scarlet dust high into the air.