With her parents still in the kitchen arguing over what to bake with their cooking apples, Nia and I slip out the front door. Instead of leaving through the front gate where the neighbors might see, we creep around to the back gate and cross a field dotted with black and tan calves. Avoiding splatters of cow dung makes the crossing take far longer than it should, but eventually we reach the heart of the city.

Turning left at the library, we hurry down a skinny alley between the physician’s office and an apothecary that spits us out into the square. The businesses are all shuttered, and the homes all have their blinds and curtains pulled. If I hadn’t been here this time yesterday, I’d believe the city abandoned. Even the fountain no longer spills water into the wide pool below.

Doesn’t look like the Unseelie are here yet. Either that, or we missed them.

There’s a tug at the back of my skirt, followed my Nia’s whisper. “This was a mistake. We should go back.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll be fine.” I slip into one of the smaller alleys with the best view. Across the square waits the well, as silent as the rest of the city.

Excitement bubbles like the cider we drank last night, effervescent and light in my chest. When I glance over my shoulder at Nia, my excitement turns to guilt. Her hands tremble where they grip her skirts, and her teeth worry her lower lip.

Poor thing. She really is terrified.

I’ve had my walk. Perhaps it would be best if we went back. I can always sneak out on my own next week. “Look, if you want to go home⁠—”

Her eyes widen, and her face drains of color as she takes a gulping breath. “It’s too late. They’re here.”

I whirl back toward the square where horses, larger than any I’ve ever seen, with coats and manes black as pitch, slowly plod into the square. Deadly spikes protrude from the beasts’ massive foreheads, gleaming like obsidian.

Not horses. Unicorns.

Here I thought the creatures of legend were all extinct.

Most of the unicorns pull small wooden carts laden with large clay jugs. It’s hard to fathom crossing that rickety bridge on foot, let alone on horseback.

As fascinating as the unicorns may be, they’re nothing compared to the fae sitting astride the beasts.

My heart pounds a little harder, climbing my throat, swelling with each rapid beat. Heavens…

Nia catches my arm, tugging me deeper into the alley, her labored breaths wheezing as she presses herself against the stone wall. “Shit. Shit. What are we going to do?”

“Take a deep breath. They’re here for water, remember? Not us. We are perfectly safe.” I pry myself from her strangle-hold and grip the gritty stones, peering around the wall to watch the Unseelie approach the well.