Twisting Trail: Unicorn Odyssey, #2

By C.J. May

Ancient prophecy tells of a unicorn, bane of all dragons, who will end the war—Fanghorn.

But the prophecy is a sham, isn't it? Regardless of who started the war, Alice knows the truth. The dragons hurt her wife, and she will not forgive or forget. Vengeance compels her to fight for the unicorn queen until the bitter end.

Sent to the border to inspire and aid, Alice continues carrying the role of Fanghorn. But in her struggle to find faith, the burden she carries is too heavy to bear. Can she find inner strength and survive the test of the twisting trail?

Dance and explore with the unicorns in book two of Unicorn Odyssey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.J. May
• Release date: Dec 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215589991

C.J. May

C.J. May is a woman living in Arkansas with her cat, Butternubs. She loves dragons, unicorns, flying cats, and gryphons.

Book preview

Prologue: Scheming Soul

Soul sat, still and upright, on a wooden stool in his cottage. Through the windows, he watched a tree bending under the weight of snow. Nivis was always a compassionate season to him; the burning of his skin was soothed by the constant cold.

He wrapped his red, glowing hands around a pot of ice on the table in front of him and watched it melt into water. Minutes passed. Relief, at last. But when he pulled away, the pain continued.

Like trying to save the world, it was an exercise in futility.

Speaking of the end of the world, there was work to do before that. If his father the Nameless One allowed it, that time was still far off.

What could he do? He had waited, biding his time, throughout the ages. Many Fanghorns, Siveks, Savindras, all the heroes—were failures. But Alice had to be different. The stars had aligned in her favor, even if Soul had to push them into place.

Alice was missing something, however. Faith in herself, and in Tigressa. If she was given that, well… nothing would stop her.

Best of all, he needn’t manipulate her into getting it. At least for now. She seemed to be on the track he had always hoped she would be on. His will matched hers. He could plant thoughts, here and there, but that felt wrong.

She’ll figure it out herself. I just need to be patient…

How much time did he have left? Not enough time to find someone else for his purposes. The dragons were busy rushing the world to its inevitable conclusion. And their god, the Nameless One, was itching to kill the all-goddess Tigressa and end Roarica.

He wasn’t the sort of guy to wait around for things to fall into place, but here he was, sitting in the cottage with nothing to do again. With an inward sigh, despair gripped him. What if Alice wasn’t the right unicorn for the job? What if he had set her on the wrong path?

He thought back to everything he had done—inspiring Fillip to enslave Miro, killing the shaman and bringing Miro home alive, and dropping Alice in just the right spot so that the unicorn queen would see her as she entered Roarica. It all made him feel filthy, but what else could he do? Sit back idly while the war tore apart Tigressa? Could he bear to watch her die?

Besides, it wasn’t his fault Fillip obeyed his prompting, that the shaman slipped to its death, and that the queen was at the window at just the right time. Well, maybe the shaman’s death was his fault, because he had called the rain, but it was all for the better. A little rain at just the right time, and a little slick rock, and anyone could fall to their death.

Could he ever hope to understand all situations, all causes and effects, so perfectly like Tigressa did? He didn’t pride himself on his foresight, because that was only a gift from his mother. Pride and self-congratulation were beneath him.

Despair gripped him again with its claws. It tore his heart. He felt along his belt for the rainbow knife. Good, it was still there. He longed to cut his own head off. But he didn’t care what he wanted. His life was not his own, and it never had been.

Back to the matter at hand. Taking his hand off the knife’s hilt, he focused. Alice would need to find faith in herself to fulfill the duty and role of Fanghorn. That much was clear. Her weakness was great, and she would need to squash it. Without that power, she wouldn’t stand a chance at saving the world.

If only I had the foresight of a fire-dragon. He tapped a finger against the pot of water, disturbing the smooth surface with ripples. It was already beginning to freeze again.

But I have the foresight of one who created their powers, and all magic. Is that not greater?

How would he accomplish this mission? If the queen does what I think she would, then she would go here… and if that happens, then this could happen… then I would be able to do this…

Yes, it all came together.

1

Chamber of War

PINNACLE OF EQUINA, CAPITAL OF SATEEL, COUNTRY OF THE UNICORNS

Matisse, Queen of Sateel, and Alice went up to the pinnacle to discuss their plans. Their hooves clopped on the crystal steps. Alice was glad she had the wings of Fanghorn to keep herself warm, and the coat she wore around her torso also helped, but despite that, it was still near freezing.

You’ll finally get to see the Chamber of War, Matisse said. She set her hoof on the door and pushed. It creaked open.

The Chamber was larger than the cloud-processing room, as it was further down the tapering tower. Alice squeezed past the tables, past the busy mathematicians and strategists, and into the back. Matisse pulled the curtains aside and went into the back alcove with Alice. Red, blue, black, and green inks covered the wall in the pointed, graceless writing of unicorns. From top to bottom writing crowded the walls; even sections of the ceiling and floor had words on them.

Here’s what we know about Dagna and Sharmagne’s defenses. Matisse read over the walls in their alcove.

Alice reached out her tongue and licked the walls. The ink was bitter. She waited for a vision to overtake her, but nothing came. Under her coat, she shivered.

Fanghorn! Act professional in here, Matisse said.

I’m just trying to read.

You don’t, Matisse sighed, eat the walls. This is different.

How am I supposed to know? Alice said. Since she had come from another world, the customs of the unicorns seemed strange to her. I can’t read it otherwise.

"You what? You can’t read? I can’t believe it. I could read just a month after I was born, and I wasn’t even the exception. Matisse looked around the walls, her mouth hanging open. Unicorns are born with words, Fanghorn. Passed down from their mother’s horn."

Well, my mother wasn’t a unicorn, Alice said.

She bit her lip. Well, I don’t have time to teach you. It’s much too complicated, so you’ll have to rely on me or the strategists.

Thank you, she said, although Alice didn’t think it was a good idea for Matisse to read for her. She wasn’t the best source of honest information.

We need to reach Habasha by Sombra, she gestured at a drawing of the planets on the wall. Five planets circled Tigressa, the huge tigress who was the world of Roarica. Right now, it was the season of winter, Nivis, but the season of darkness, Sombra, came next.

Dragons wax powerful in the darkness while we wane. It could be rushed. Although, we could wait until next Coelest.

Mmhmm, Alice said. Where are the next battles?

My strategist has a few ideas written here, she scoured the map. It’s not for you, though. You’re going to deliver aid near the border. You did well last battle, but you made me nervous. After Tassus, we need time to regroup. I doubt we have the soldiers to attack. She gave Alice a sad look. Anyways, I wanted that armor to be ready for you before you see battle again, and we’re low on crystal. There have been… disappearances near the Brena crystal mines. Regardless, you need to stay safe.

"Safe? Sending me near the border of a country full of dragons is going to be safe?"

Of course. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Fanghorn. Fanghorn was a god, invincible and limitless, but you just aren’t. She hesitated and her face lost all expression. I’ve been talking to the god-shorn about it. He told me the meaning of incarnate. You have Fanghorn’s soul, but obviously not his body, or his brains. You haven’t realized the fullness of your powers yet.

Alice turned her neck around and chewed on an itch under her wing. The wing-slots on her coat were almost always itchy.

All of the other incarnates, Matisse continued, have proven that they were not who they said they were. Even if you die, all is not lost. Fanghorn’s immortal spirit will always come back to me.

Alice thought it was nice, and a little bit ego-boosting, to hear about her own immortality. She finished itching herself and spat out a bit of fluffy down.

Therefore, Matisse said, you’re not going on this journey alone. You’ll be fully outfitted with everything you deserve.

Nice, Alice said. When will I be going?

After Nivis dims three times. And don’t take all of that as a vacation. You need to be prepared on time. Rest well, eat well, and say your farewells. Your traveling party will be at the gates of the city courtyard. They know where you’re going. All you need to do is follow and act official.

Alice nodded. I’ll do my best.

Your presence across the country will give the unicorns of Sateel hope, Fanghorn, Matisse said slowly, enunciating her words with care. Be professional. Act like the god that you are.

Of course, your majesty. Alice watched her breath freeze in the air and drift down in a mist.

Oh, and before you do anything else, don’t forget to stop by the god-shorn. He’ll give you some things you need for your trip. Now, I’m sure we both have other things to do. Don’t let me keep you. Matisse opened the curtains and went back to her diagrams with a frown.

2

God-shorn’s Ramblings

When Alice pushed out of the room and the door shut behind her, she let herself catch her breath. That room was far too crowded and tight for her liking.

Through the windows down the tower she watched snow fall. Fluffy, pale blue flakes coated the city below and through the streets the bells had finally frozen silent.

Nivis hung over the world, commanding more than half the sky. Nivis was a cold, cracked teal sphere, and on its surface vortexes of frost blew endlessly. Cold air and snow drifted down from Nivis in waves.

The planet had a habit of slowly pulsing with light; although there was no night, there were periods where it was darker, and periods when it was brighter.

As she headed down the stairs, an image formed in Alice’s mind. She saw a small orb of light, Earth’s sun, rise from one end of the world and set on the other. It seemed so absurd. The sun was such a tiny ball of fire, so distant compared to the planets. But at least on Earth she could see the sky in all its glory. A beautiful blue would flood the air when the ash storms were settled and the clouds were away. It was beautiful, with the orange mountains behind it.

Although Nivis was a paler and greener shade of blue than earth’s sky, Alice thought it more glorious.

Alice caught her breath when she reached the temple. Blue! The color reminded her of Miro’s fur, and that was why she thought it was so lovely. Miro was her partner, and they had come to Roarica from Earth together. If it hadn’t been for Miro, she would have lost her mind in this foreign land long ago.

She would have to visit her when she was done with the god-shorn.

Out of every place in Equina, the temple was the most crowded on this day. The god-shorn had just finished a lecture and was distributing coats and rolling out sleeping rugs with the help of a wingcat slave. His fellow priests were gathered around the altar, performing a ritual to bring warmth to the temple. With every prayer, another stripe in the temple’s sandstone floors and walls began to emanate heat. When the priests had no more mental energy left, they quit the altar and collapsed on the sleeping rugs.

Alice waited for a moment when the god-shorn was alone.

God-shorn? Alice called.

Yes? The priest looked puffed up under his robes and coat. I’m glad you had a moment to see me.

Alice saw, for a moment, a flash of red and black, shaped like a human. The god-shorn’s expression changed to something wistful.

He spoke again. I feel a strange magic… do you feel it?

No.

Ancient magic. He smiled. I’m reminded of the time in my life when I first found faith in Tigressa. An image forms in my mind…

What was the old unicorn going on about?

I was on an expedition to the mountains when I saw, far off in the distance, the ears of the tigress. You understand, they’re so far away that it’s a miracle all the air and space between us was clear enough. I had heard stories about our world, about this tigress, but I hadn’t yet believed. A whisper came into my heart as Solasta shone bright above us.

Alice nodded. Go on.

It told me to, to, well now my mind is fogged. I can’t quite remember. But from that day I knew I was destined to become a priest. He bowed his head. "Ah! I know now. It told me to believe in myself. The dragons call it atsah, the great fire of being. From this fire, a spark formed, and that spark became me. Because Tigressa exists, I exist. It’s not so hard to understand."

Alice frowned. Hadn’t she seen Tigressa on her fall into Roarica? What use was faith if she could see and prove that Tigressa was real?

Better to snap the old priest back to reality, instead of letting him ramble on.

Matisse said you would have something for me.

He lifted his head and took a deep breath. Under his robes and coat, his sides swelled and shrank. Yes. I have what you need. Follow me.

The god-shorn turned around and walked to the west wing of the temple. His wingcat slave followed close behind.

They pushed through the lines waiting at the soup-kitchen and turned left. For a couple minutes they walked down a hallway lined with doors. Many of the doors led to free housing and sleeping areas, and other rooms were staffed with priests that distributed free goods and blessings.

At the end of the hallway was one tiny, beat up door.

Luda, if you don’t mind, the god-shorn said to the wingcat slave. The cat opened the door and the priest let himself in. The room was just big enough for both of them to stand in.

A pile of gray cloths and worn out robes served as the god-shorn’s bed. The walls were lined with cubby-holes filled with miniature statues, incense bowls, scriptures and worn-out portraits.

Luda, my amulet, please.

The wingcat sniffed the air, nose twitching, and rustled her emerald wings. With hand-like paws, she shuffled through one of the cubby holes and pulled out a golden chain with a polished green stone on the end.

Kneel, the god-shorn said.

Alice bent down and the wingcat, after a moment’s hesitation, hooked the chain around her neck.

The god-shorn gave her a stern look. This amulet is very, very sacred. Don’t lose it, and try to treat it with more respect than you’ve been treating the wings.

Alice felt a slow, steady trickle of power and alertness from the necklace. The green stone glowed dimly.

There’s something else I want to show you.

The god-shorn pointed a hoof to a scrap of painting in one of the alcoves. A pair of bright-eyed unicorns peered out at them from the faded paint.

This is my wife, Harta, and my daughter, Anya. He pointed to another portrait. And these are my friends, fellow priests from back when I was younger.

Alice recognized the priests’ robes in the portrait. They were the same ones on the god-shorn’s floor.

The dragons killed my wife, and my daughter when they were out on the border serving all the children of Roarica. There was no anger in his words, only sadness and regret. My friends lived very long and wonderful lives, full of Tigressa’s grace, but they became arrogant and returned violence for violence. They died trying to create battle-magic.

If only they had cast the spells right, Alice thought, then they wouldn’t be dead. Even she didn’t dare say this out loud. Instead she kept her mouth clamped shut. The dragons deserved to die, they were monsters after all. But what use was arguing?

Whether you are Fanghorn or not, it does not matter. You are not exempt from the natural laws. I do not wish to sound violent, but if you die serving Matisse, it was only because you killed yourself. Be cautious. He stared at her crimson warrior’s mane. Alice felt her face begin to turn red. Her magical, color-changing fur had a habit of giving away her emotions.

Luda began licking the back of her furry paws, and Alice’s wings began to itch again. She wished she was fighting with the Herd, not traveling to gods-know-where.

The god-shorn continued. Although we don’t see eye to eye, it doesn’t mean I want you to face harm. I will pray for your safe return.

Of course, Alice thought. He would want Fanghorn’s wings back at least. Alice was trying to maintain composure, but an unexpected sneeze shook her body.

And take this, he said. He gestured for a scroll near the back of the room and Luda pulled it out for him. I’ve been studying the different customs of the provinces and tribes in Sateel. Read it through. It will keep you from offending the border-folk. Luda tucked the scroll into the front pocket of Alice’s coat, and her inquisitive cat’s eyes sparkled.

I’d prefer you bring that back to me in one piece, but if you don’t, I have most of it memorized. There’s just one last thing that you need. Follow me.

They left the room and the god-shorn closed the door behind Alice. It was back through the hallway, out into the temple, and then the god-shorn took an unexpected turn up to the stairs of the tower. Alice rushed up the stairs with him.

They say heat rises, but it’s just not any warmer up here, is it? the god-shorn said, as if trying to start a friendly conversation. Alice grunted. She didn’t like the old unicorn—he was too temperate.

Stairs, stairs, stairs. Alice looked out the window and got the urge to stretch her wings. While her gaze was off the ground, she felt dizzy and her front hoof caught on a stair. She tripped a little, but caught herself before the priest had noticed. Luda, however, made a small chirruping meow. Alice’s fur flashed white.

After another hundred steps, they reached a door. Spider-webs hung in veils around the door-jamb. The god-shorn nuzzled it open.

Something in the back of the room scurried into the shadows. The god-shorn raised his head.

It’s okay, it’s okay, he said. It’s only me. Pull open the blinds, will you?

When the light of Nivis filled the room, several pairs of eyes glinted back. A set of unicorns huddled together on a rug in the corner of the room. Upon closer inspection, Alice saw that they didn’t have manes.

Alice presumed they lived in this room, although she couldn’t tell why. She watched as the god-shorn pulled a bundle of food out of his robes and set it on the rug next to the huddle.

What you need is in the back corner behind those curtains probably, the god-shorn said. Let me chat with my friends for a minute.

Alice left him to his business and proceeded to the back corner. Reaching out a hoof, she cautiously examined the curtains. She pushed them to the side and dust came off in sheets, revealing the brilliant purple of the velvet curtains underneath.

She sneezed several times. Once the dust had settled, she examined what was hanging: a flowing purple robe. It was trimmed in gold and cyan, and embroidered with three solid circles, one red, one blue, and one purple. These dots were surrounded by an even larger rainbow circle. Tiny metal bumps studded the robe in a geometric pattern. It looked very heavy.

Did you find it, Alice?

Alice sneezed again. Found what? Is this it?

The god-shorn walked over to her. Yes, yes! The universal symbol of peace. You’ll be wearing that robe on your journey. It looks heavy, but it’s really not that bad. Take it down to the outer city and find someone to fit it onto you.

Alice scowled. Luda gestured to carry it for her, but instead Alice grabbed the robe’s hanger in her mouth and dragged it to the door before dropping it. What good will this do? Do I absolutely have to wear it?

The god-shorn sighed. Don’t, please don’t, just leave it behind. It will keep you safe—no one can deny the power of the peace robe. The border-folk need to know that you’re friendly, and if you happen to come across any dragons, I’m certain they’ll leave you alone for the most part. Assuming you’re wearing it.

She picked it up again, disregarding Luda’s help. Humph, Alice said through the hanger. The dust left a disgusting texture in her mouth. The god-shorn followed her out the door.

Ah, he said, I forgot to tell you. That was the Chamber of Compassion. Matisse has bad memories in that room and hasn’t been in there in forever. A few of my friends have been living there ever since Matisse cast them out and cut their manes. He shut the door.

They headed back down the stairs. Alice struggled to carry the robe and sweated under her coat.

Once they reached the temple, the god-shorn bowed stiffly. Take care on your journey.

Alice nodded.

If you have trouble staying calm, the White Chamber is always open too, Alice. I can teach you some good meditation techniques, if you want.

Alice wanted to think that