He prayed to Gennara, the Dellish goddess of magic and protector of the charmed folk, but he did this with a sinking heart.

They were too far away.

They were simply too far…

He pulled back on Majesty’s reins and lifted a hand up at his side.

He heard three calls of “Halt” around him, more down the line, as Majesty skidded to a stop, the steed’s body shifting sideways at the quickness of it.

“By the gods, True,” Farah whispered.

By the gods, indeed.

“I did not even know—” she began but stopped when the unicorn before them dipped her proud head, and when she lifted it, she did this away from True, as if indicating she wished them to follow her.

“Go to the back of the line,” True told his wife.

“Sorry?” she asked.

He tore his eyes from the magnificent creature and looked to his queen.

“Darling, go to the back of the line.”

She only studied his face a moment before she nodded, wheeled her mount and started to the back.

True looked the other way, to Wallace, who also nodded, turned his steed, and followed Farah.

True then returned his attention to the unicorn.

He dipped his chin to her.

She lifted her head and shook it as her way of saying his message was received.

She then turned and started galloping away.

“Ride!” True bellowed.

He felt Majesty’s haunches bunch before his horse burst forward after the unicorn and then True heard the thunder of hooves behind him as his men followed.

They went perhaps a quarter of a mile when, for some reason, the unicorn’s body adjusted as if she was intent to clear a gate in her path when there was nothing to clear as before them lay nothing but road.

She rose into the air.

Without guiding Majesty to do so, True and his mount rose into the air after her.

He heard cries and shouts and knew the line at his back rose as well.

There were more cries and shouts when all about them faded to purple and it felt like they were soaring through the air.

But within mere instants, the purple was gone.

And their horses landed with a thud someplace else altogether.

King Mars

On the Journey to Airen

WODELL

Mars was forced to admit, he was rather unnerved at the knowledge that his queen was a better horseman than he.

She rode at his side, in full charge, her body bent over her steed, her head tipped back, face determined, and she did not fear the breakneck speed they were using.

Indeed, it seemed she did not even feel it.

These were his thoughts, for he refused to acknowledge the dread settling like a weight in his gut at what they might be riding to.