Puzzled, Zoë stood up and brushed herself off. The short rest and the touch of Lucien’s horn had almost restored her to normal. She was hungry and a bit tired but she felt like she’d taken a nice nap, not ridden a unicorn on a wild escape and then sat beside him for a few minutes.

Voices approached, from a different direction than they’d arrived. Feminine, familiar voices… more than two of them.

Zoë blinked. “Mom?”

Three women emerged from the underbrush, carrying knapsacks and day-glo blasters: Andrea, Kishar, and Sarah Hogan, Zoë’s mother.

“Zoë!” cried Sarah, dropping her gun and bag as she hurried over to her. Instead of the hug Zoë instinctively reached for, her mother started patting her down, checking her for injuries.

“Mom, you were asleep back there—” Zoë waved vaguely at the other side of the sanctuary.

“We needed help rescuing you,” said Kishar. “So I had the pretty unicorn boy wake her up.” She looked flushed and excited, and she held her blaster like a pro.

“It’s all very strange and I’m not sure how much I believe what’s happening,” said Sarah. “But they told me you needed rescuing and whether or not this was real didn’t seem to matter as much. And I did have some useful things in the house.”

“Pepper spray ball ammunition,” said Andrea, amused. She had a few hairs out of place, which she was even now finger-combing back in line. “I remember when you got that, when you were going through that prepper phase.”

“It was on sale,” said Sarah briskly, finishing her pat-down of her daughter and enfolding Zoë in a quick, light hug. “And if we have to stay in here for a while, until the army arrives or whatever happens next, well, we’ll be grateful for the rest of what I got in that sale, too.” She nodded at some large sealed buckets tucked under a shrub.

That’s my mother all over, thought Zoë dizzily. The chatter between the adults was strange, almost astonishing. She’d vaguely known that her dad and Andrea worked at the same place, but she’d never realized Ainsel’s parents were on such casual terms with her own. She had a glimpse of her mother through Andrea’s laughter and found herself stepping back from adults who seemed just as unexpected as the unicorn.

“I’m glad you all returned,” said Lucien. He paced toward them and brushed the tip of his horn on each of their heads. Andrea and Kishar held still, but Sarah frowned and moved her head away.

“What are you doing?”

“He can heal you if you got hurt, Mom,” said Zoë, hoping she wouldn’t make a big deal and embarrass her.

“Also, I wish to clear away the cobwebs of that creature’s influence,” said Lucien sweetly. “He is powerful, and you were near him.”

Sarah frowned. “Well, be careful. You could put an eye out with that thing.”

“Yes,” said Lucien. “But I won’t.” He gently tapped his horn on top of Sarah’s head, then shook it, as if shaking away a spiderweb. “All clean.”

Zoë remembered Tyler telling her Lucien and Ainsel had been enchanting her the same way Tyler had enchanted Andrea. It was ridiculous, but she was still embarrassed at how for a moment she’d wondered if it was true. To take her mind off that she thought about what her mother had said.

“The army? Is the army coming?”

Kishar grimaced while Sarah shrugged carelessly. “I don’t know. But what else are you supposed to do when some sort of Lost Boys reject is running around controlling people and kidnapping girls?”

“Kidnapping is the province of the FBI,” said Andrea absently, as she went over to inspect the buckets.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, Sarah,” said Kishar. “You don’t believe this is really happening. Nobody we call is going to believe it either. Even if we could lure a news crew out here, what would we show them? Some teenagers messing around, with a bunch of indulgent adults supervising.”

Sarah said, “We have our phones and there’s him…” She was looking at Lucien.

Zoë moved into her line of sight. “You are not putting him on the internet.”

“I couldn’t let that happen,” the unicorn gently agreed. “I ought to return home and report. You would all be welcome to accompany me.”

“What about Ainsel?” objected Zoë, while Kishar just shook her head and Andrea didn’t even look up.

“Maybe you should go, Zoë,” said Sarah, in the voice she used when she was talking herself into something. “At least for a while. Until we’ve sorted out all this trouble.” She spoke like she was talking about sending Zoë to her aunt’s for a week.

While Zoë was still staring at her mother, speechless at the suggestion, Kishar said, “Is it possible you could bring help back from your home, Lucien?”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The unicorn pawed the ground thoughtfully. “Perhaps. That creature is a terrible threat. But my people have other concerns right now. And…” He gazed at Zoë with a forest eye before saying slowly, “If we could find Ainsel, would you come away with me?”

“Yes,” said Sarah firmly.

“All of you?” said Lucien, while Zoë made an incoherent protest.

The question made Sarah hesitate, and Zoë charged in. “Dad’s missing, though.”

“Your dad would want you to be safe,” said her mother, recovering herself. “I’m sure he’s found some safe place to hide.”

“I wonder,” said Andrea thoughtfully. “I didn’t see him today.” She and Kishar exchanged looks. “But I haven’t noticed many other people missing.”

“Oh,” said Lucien, very quietly. He heaved a sigh. “The frays. Perhaps they’ve fallen through.” He shook his head. “Rest for now and I will attempt a magic that will help us find them.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Sarah stubbornly, her gaze distant. “If Ainsel’s with him, that means she’s safe too.”

“Mom—” began Zoë, helplessly. She could see how her mother was mapping this onto something like a bad storm, where ‘safety’ was just a matter of finding shelter to wait it out. But she’d been the recipient of Tyler’s mental attack, seen the giant wolfman in the shadows, ridden a unicorn.

Andrea touched Sarah’s arm and Sarah focused on her. “You could be right. It sounds like Lucien will be able to find out if we give him some time. Meanwhile, Zoë is worn out.”

“I’m fine,” Zoë protested, but her stomach growled in disagreement.

Sarah’s eyes brightened. “I’ve got a camp stove in one of the buckets. Let’s feed you.”

Beyond Sarah, Lucien gave Zoë a little shake of the mane, his ears perked forward. “Do rest, Zoë. I’ll get it right this time, but it will take a while.” His gaze lowered and he puffed out his breath. “Most unicorn magic is slow, I’m afraid.”

Her heart squeezing at the worry in his voice, Zoë moved past her mom to hold her hand out to Lucien. He lifted his head and rested his jaw in her palm, before stepping closer to put his head on her shoulder. She put her arms around his neck, inhaling the warm living cinnamon of his skin and murmured, “Thank you for rescuing me.”

His warm head rested against her back and she could feel his pulse against her throat. Hugging him felt so nice and part of her wanted to sink against him, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall.

“I have work to do. Go sit down,” he said softly. “Your mothers will prepare food for you.”

She giggled at the thought of three mothers of her own, but extracted herself and turned away. Sarah waved her over to where Kishar had set up the camp stove and Andrea was reloading the blasters. As she did, Sarah put an emergency blanket around her shoulders. Zoë decided not to argue, not because she was cold, but because she could see her mother trying to make herself comfortable with the situation.

But as Sarah fussed with a packet of freeze-dried food, she said, in that tone of voice, “So, have you known Lucien long? How did you meet?”

An embarrassed flush infused Zoë’s cheeks, strengthened by the realization she couldn’t actually answer the question. “Mom, he’s a magical unicorn, not… not a boy from school.”

“Hmm,” was all her mother said, before Andrea engaged her in a discussion of her supply buckets. Kishar joined in energetically. Eventually Zoë was handed a packet of rehydrated macaroni and cheese and a spoon and allowed to eat it in peace. After that she found herself curling up on the ground and watching the adults laughing and chatting like they were at a PTA meeting.

She began to drift in and out of consciousness, never quite comfortable enough to really sleep, but dreaming sometimes that she was back in her own bed. Somewhere behind her, she could hear the little movements of Lucien doing whatever he had to do, and eventually the adults quieted down as their discussion became more serious.

As she dozed, something began to nag at her memory. She’d forgotten something in all excitement. Briefly, she struggled to wake up and instead only dreamt of lost things in her bedroom. Her shoes. Her camera. A letter from Tyler.

That letter from Tyler. She needed it. He’d left her a message, but she’d forgotten it. She scrabbled around under her bed, like she’d done as a kid, came out covered in dust, and looked at the closet door.

The second closet door.

That was right, she had a second closet. She’d just forgotten it until now, ignored it until now. But there it was, the door barely cracked open and light streaming from beyond. She frowned. Who’d been using it and leaving the light on without her noticing? Without her remembering?

How much else was she forgetting?

What else had happened to her?

Something was missing. Something was wrong.

She knew, with dream-certainty, that on the other side of the door was everything she’d ever forgotten, including Tyler’s letter. Going inside seemed unavoidable as her destiny, and the natural next step. But she hesitated, fear curling through her.

What if she’d forgotten it for a reason?

What had happened to her? What had happened what had happened what had happened when she forgot?

She looked down and found her camera in her hand. Her camera had created bookmarks for her memories so many times before. Transferred her memories to somebody else over and over. And sometimes, the camera could remember entirely for her. All the details the mind blotted away, bound and restrained, for anybody to see. It didn’t remember Tyler’s message, but it had told her about Lucien. It had been the key that unlocked her memories of the—

—the uni—

he brushed his nose across her forehead. She fell and was caught by warm hands as conssciousness slipped away

She woke up in her bed every morning after seeing him. He’d moved her from his sanctuary to her bed. He’d been in her room. He’d probably messed everything up. No wonder she couldn’t find things.

she’d been carried, cradled in someone’s arms

The second closet door creaked… open? closed? moving in the wind from the open window. The light from within flickered like a guttering candle.

“Something’s wrong,” said Lucien (unicorn, unicorn) at the window, and stretched his neck, moving his horn as if to mess everything up even more. She screamed and dodged and threw her camera at him, before opening the second closet and hurling herself inside.

“No!” said the unicorn (Lucien, Lucien), an odd note in his voice. “No, don’t. I won’t let you.”

And he stopped her. Just like that. Nothing she could do mattered, not at all, not in the slightest.

He held her from behind, and whispered in her ear, “Shh, shh, but wait, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.” His breath was fast and shallow. “No, everything is wrong, sweet Zoë. But I’ve got you. I won’t let you be hurt.”

She could do nothing. He could do whatever he wanted and he did—

“Everybody just stay still,” said the boy with Lucien’s eyes, but she couldn’t listen. She needed to find Tyler’s message right now. This was all a distraction—

Oh, god, something was so wrong.

She vomited and woke up, bent over the arm of a young man she didn’t know, while Tyler stood before her, shirtless, his arms streaming with blood, smiling at her.

That was when she remembered what Tyler had said about a new plan. It would surprise her, he said. Impress her. And then she’d be his. For real.