A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,57

shrugged.

"I don't know what it is.

I'm just saying there might be another explanation."

"We can hope."

He released her shoulders and took her hand.

"Let's go find her."

The dark mists continued to swirl through the black trees, but the cold no longer bothered him.

He looked at his watch.

It was late in the day, the day before the full moon, if time passed the same here as it did at home.

A little over a day to find Ilaria and free her.

Which might be plenty of time.

Or might be hopelessly too little.

He glanced back to find his Esri nightmare following him, their arrows aimed at his back, smirks upon their mouths.

How would he possibly hold on to his sanity if he had to deal with this 24/7 for another month? Heaven help him.

But his gaze went to Tarrys and a part of him wanted to do just that.

Stay here, lost in this fantasy world with her by his side for a little longer.

"Look at the birds," Tarrys murmured.

Charlie followed her gaze to where dozens of tiny birds, like brightly colored hummingbirds, lined the branches of the dead trees, their trilling songs somehow pleasing.

But a flash of black close to the ground had him turning rigid.

A second flash confirmed he hadn't imagined the first glimpse of a creature that filled him with more dread than the Esri.

A creature with black fur and three white horns.

"Black trimors.

Two of them."

Tarrys cocked an arrow.

"Where?" The two reappeared, briefly, along with three others pacing behind them.

"Crap.

They're all around us."

"Charlie, I don't see anything."

"They're invisible most of the time."

"They're probably just visions."

"Do you want to take that chance? Besides, I can hear them growling.

Can't you hear that?" "No.

I only hear the birds."

He groaned.

"How am I supposed to be able to tell, then?" One was fully visible now, eyeing him like prey.

Slowly, he pulled his knife.

If the creature disappeared, it wouldn't do anything.

But if it would just stay whole... Charlie flung the knife through the fully corporeal beast.

The knife sailed right through.

"Dammit."

"I don't see them, Charlie, and I would if they were here."

How could his eyes and ears deceive him so thoroughly? Out of his left peripheral vision, he saw one leap for him.

Instinctively, he lifted his arm in front of his face while he pulled his second knife.

He stabbed the beast at the moment it should have attached itself to his arm.

And thrust through nothing but air.

Adrenaline poured through his body, making his heart pound.

"It attacked you?" Tarrys asked.

He scowled at her.

"No, I was playacting," he said with ill- concealed sarcasm.

Her grin eased some of the enormous tension riding him.

He shook his head.

"No wonder the Esri turned and ran."

The trimors were all visible now, five of them pacing, ready to spring.

He braced himself as a different trimor attacked, lifting his arm because he had to, but not bothering with his knife this time.

He was going to have a bloody heart attack if this kept up much longer.

Forcing himself to ignore the beasts, he continued on, walking within inches of one of the trimor's horns.

He glanced at Tarrys.

"Why aren't the visions bothering you?" "I don't know.

Maybe I'll start seeing them later."

She gasped.

"Charlie.

Unicorns!" He followed her gaze, certain this had to be the first of her visions because, hell, there was no such thing as a unicorn.

Except there was definitely something down the path.

Three somethings, shaggy blue ponies with white manes and tails.

Protruding from the middle of each forehead was a blue-tipped white horn.

"That's a unicorn?" "Of course.

They're wonderful eating."

He gaped at her.

"You eat unicorns? " She cocked her head.

"Do you have unicorns in your realm?" He laughed, then realized she was serious.

Of course, she was serious.

She was a brownie in an enchanted forest deep in fairyland who liked to eat unicorns.

Any minute now he was going to wake up in the psych ward of some military hospital with a pretty doctor shaking her head at him, ordering him locked away in a padded room for the rest of his life.

"Unicorns aren't real," he told her.

"In my world, they're not real.

They're legends.

Mythical, magical beasts."

Tarrys smiled gently.

"These are quite real, quite common, and not magical at all."

"Those horns look wicked."

They were nearly as long as his forearm.

"They use them to dig for grubs."

Grubs.

In blue dirt.

Hence the blue tips.

"You're shooting the myth to hell, you know."

Her grin widened and she swung away as she watched the beasts.

"They're usually very timid.

I'm surprised they're letting us get so close."

But as they continued toward the blue beasts, the unicorns raised their heads and began to trot toward them.

Charlie