Damn, if I thought slamming into the ladder had been a painful, bruising experience, then I’m super glad I had been unconscious during whatever the Hel had just happened. I came to consciousness, bleary and groggy, and sore all over. My everything hurt. I started counting bruises, but gave up and decided the answer was “1”. I was just one big bruise. Like a human pear, kicked down the stairs of life. Damn but I could go for a pear right now. A less-bruised one though.

  Phew. Maybe I’d hit my head a bit hard. My thoughts still felt a bit cloudy, my eyes a bit blurry. I shook my head to try and clear them both. I regretted that pretty much instantly. The bones in my neck clicked and popped, while my muscles screamed at me. I could pretty much feel my brain rattling around inside my skull, and a tidal wave of nausea surged upwards. Remember kids, it’s think first, act second.

  I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths, getting my stomach back under control. Very slowly this time, I cracked my eyes open, realising as I did that I was lying on the floor, not still sitting on the chair. It was a soft floor though, instead of metal. I felt around with my left hand. There were multiple layers of fabric, like someone had lain several blankets on the floor.

  Instead of sitting up or trying to use words, I just groaned loudly. Speaking is hard and I was in pain. It was a justified groan. A couple of answering groans at least proved people were still alive in here, and apparently conscious. Result.

  “Alf? Indy?” Nalfis croaked. Two more groans answered him. There was a rustling sound off to my right, accompanied by a chorus of painful and miserable noises. “Ow,” he concluded. I could hear his joints cracking. More rustling, and some uncertain footsteps approaching me. “Are you… you?” he asked, worriedly.

  “Yep.” Wow, even my mouth hurt. I was impressed. “Think so anyway.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “How d’you think?” I rasped. “Fucked.” He was leaning over me again, looking nervous for some reason. “Why? Something happen?”

  “Did something happen?” Alf mimicked, as mockingly as he could. “You exploded the damn thing.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t really know how to respond to that. “So does that mean mission accomplished?” I heard him huff angrily. Sitting up slowly (and wincing at a million aches), I looked in that direction, spotting an Alf-shaped lump on the floor, and a Tove-shaped one too. Aside from that, I didn’t recognise the space. The floor was like a shallow bowl, that the layers of carpet had filled in and flattened out. There were more sheets of fabric draped over various surfaces and protrusions, and the walls were made of a familiar brass.

  “Where are we?” I asked. Some sort of panic room maybe?

  “Look up,” Nalfis instructed. I did so, and was alarmed by the ceiling. It bristled with tables and desks which had been bolted down, and one very familiar solid metal chair, fused to it. This was certainly strange. I’d like to say that the gears were turning in my head, but honestly most of them had been knocked loose. I was also caught in the grasp of a throbbing headache. It sat deep in the back of my brain, throwing out the odd lance of stabbing pain that had me wincing. “Did… did the head fall off?” I was starting to wish that mine would. This hurt like a bitch.

  “Less fall and more fly,” Nalfis remarked. “Quite the distance as well.”

  “Where?” I asked. It was still dark outside, so I couldn’t have been out for that long.

  “Denofell.” I frowned at that, confused.

  “We were already in Denofell,” I said. My head was hurting, and my memory was fuzzy, but that much I remembered at the very least. Alf gave a bark of sardonic laughter before clarifying with a sort of manic glee. “Oh no, we’re not in the plains of Denofell. We’re in the ruins of Denofell.”

  That was a slightly unfortunate answer.

  I’m understating there for comedic effect. It was a horrendous answer. Denofell had been so notoriously fucked up for so long that it had passed out of history and into mythology. There’s nothing very tasteful to compare it to, so you’re going to have to use your imagination. In short, it’s a ruined city that was cursed to eternal darkness, filled with angry, restless spirits who wanted nothing more than something to take their anger out on. Finding the reports from earlier had only made me more afraid of it. If the commander had been so disturbed that he didn’t want to even write down what had happened here, then I wasn’t super excited to find out first-hand.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked. Obvious question, still needing asking. Alf raised an eyebrow in my direction.

  “Why should I know?” he retorted.

  “Because,” I spluttered, “you’re all… you!” (work with me here). “You break into royal palaces, you know Beowulf, have one friend who’s apparently a royal heir, have another friend who’s tangled up with Loki-”

  “More than one…” I heard Nalfis murmur.

  “See?! That kind of shit right there! Casually dropping that you have more than one friend connected to Loki. That’s not normal!”

  “You may have a point there, when you lay it all out like that,” Nalfis conceded. “But I’d argue you’re closer to our brand of strange than you are to ‘normal people’,” he finished with air quotes.

  “Eh?” I was almost offended by that, since these guys were clearly batshit crazy.

  “You’re only a teenager, but you’re apparently an experienced dungeon-explorer and genius inventor.” I flushed a bit. Who doesn’t like being called a genius? “You go on solo explorations to dangerous places, willingly approach and enter huge war machines, possess some form of magic, and happen to know Gnomish. You are either brave or stupid enough to sit in a chair that you know risks frying your brain, but instead manage to successfully control an ancient Colossus, without losing your mind in the process. I would therefore submit to you (who talks like that?), that you, Indy, are also ‘not normal’.”

  Hmm. It seemed like he had me there when it was all laid out like that. Turnabout is fair play I suppose. I did look pretty weird if you strung it all back-to-back, but in my defence it had all seemed pretty logical to me. Clearly I’d have to reassess things. “Fine,” I huffed, “but I still think you should be the ones coming up with a plan here. I am, as you say, only a teenager.” There have to be some perks to being the youngest, right?

  “Since we’re one brain short of our best,” Alf pointed out, “I suggest we sort that little problem first.” I liked the sound of that, since clearly Tove hadn’t got better. He looked around, spotting and heading over to her bag. Like all of ours, it had been thrown to some random part of the head, but still seemed intact otherwise. He began to root around in it, which part of me felt like I should tell him off for, before murmuring a quiet ‘a-ha’, and pulling something out.

  The first I could see of it was a long-ish, conical white thing (no), with a flat base and sharp, tapered point. As I looked closer I saw that it had a spiralling design carved into it, and that the colour, and therefore material, was ivory. It shimmered and sparkled slightly, giving off an ethereal white light. “What is that?” I asked. Whatever it was, it was immaculate, and completely beautiful.

  “It’s a unicorn’s horn,” Alf said. Just said. In a completely flat, voice, As if it was a completely reasonable thing to say ‘it’s a unicorn’s horn’ and then leave it there. Why not just say there’s a pair of Valkyrie wings in the bag as well while you’re at it? (There weren’t, thank the Gods).

  A chill ran over me as I thought about how you’d go about getting a unicorn’s horn, and what that must have meant about them. Nalfis blurted out a follow-up, either reading my mind or coming to the same realisation about what Alf had just implied. “It was a gift,” he rushed out, “the unicorn it belonged to gave it to us in thanks. They can regrow them.”

  That was all a relief to hear, but of course opened yet another box of questions. I put them to one side for now. “What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “I’m going to ask her for a favour,” Alf explained. Somewhat.

  “Will it work from here?” Nalfis inquired.

  “I think so.” Convincing. “The darkness won’t help, but we’re stationary at least.”

  “Do you not think we should be outside?” Alf grimaced.

  “Now see, I had thought that, but then I decided I’d really much prefer to not have to go outside for any amount of time at all, so I’m just going to hope it works from in here.” It was honestly a fair argument.

  He closed his eyes in concentration, and Nalfis and I bit back on any other questions we had. The light shone brighter. A warm wind sprang up from nowhere, bringing all the scents and sounds of a forest at night. The gentle sway of branches, a soft brook, sweet flowers that bloom under the moonlight. It felt like the carpet beneath me had been turned into a bed of moss, and that I could lie on it beneath a blanket of stars and dream for a thousand years.

  If that sounded all wanky and poetic, then good – because that’s how it felt. The light became dazzling, and I warded my eyes. It quickly dimmed back to a bright glow, and when I lowered my hand, standing right there, impossibly, was a unicorn.

  Most modern depictions of a unicorn can be boiled down to “shiny pure-white horse with a single horn”. The basic elements were definitely there, but it was more ‘horse-shaped’ than ‘just a horse’. It had thicker, powerful legs which ended in paws instead of hooves. The tail was longer and more sinuous, its ears mouse-like, and the back slightly more sloped – definitely not a riding animal. The equine stature, wicked horn, and moonlit glow were all there though. In a word, it was majestic. In two words, terrifyingly regal. I felt like I should be bowing or curtseying or showing some sort of deference, but I was a bit busy being gobsmacked.

  That’s a unicorn. Real intelligent, brain. Thank you. I guess I should cut it some slack since I had just plugged it into a robot and then been bounced around, but still. I did my best to pick my jaw up off the floor, while Nalfis went into a picture-perfect, sweeping bow. “My lady,” he intoned, “thank you for gracing us with your presence once more. It pains us to call on you so soon, but we have need of your assistance, if you would be able to provide it.” He gestured towards Tove, who was still uncomprehending of the world around her, and then he kept speaking like a twat.

  “Our companion has been brought low by an ancient device. We believe her mind has been overwhelmed and broken, and we lack the means to restore it ourselves. If you have such a power, we humbly beseech that you aid our mutual friend.” His piece said, he stepped back to leave room in front of Tove.

  “Worrying,” came the reply. Her voice was soft and calm, but nevertheless authoritative and powerful. A real ‘do no harm but take no shit’ voice. It was incredibly unnerving, because it came from inside my head. What the fuck was that?

  “My apologies,” she said, “we have not met, and I can see that you must be uneasy. My name is Sera.” She looked at me, and even though I can’t read unicorn facial expressions, I got the sense she was waiting for something.

  “Uhh… I’m Indy,” I said, carefully. I heard a soft giggle in my mind, which was so at odds with the image of the creature standing in front of me. “I appreciate this must seem strange,” she said, “but as you might be able to see, I sadly lack the required features to speak as you do. Thus, you hear me as such.” Fair explanation, still weird.

  “Can you read my mind?”

  “Only so much as you wish for me to hear..” That was a relief. I didn’t need more things poking around my brain today, thank you.

  “Not to rush anyone, but would you mind?” Alf asked, impatiently. Personally, I was shocked that he’d be so brusque to someone like this, but Sera just nodded. “Of course,” she said, “I owe her at least so much as to try.” That said, she bowed her head, kneeling so the point of her horn rested directly above Tove’s heart. The glow intensified again, but around a single point, being drawn into her body and down through the tip of her horn, before spilling into Tove. Light shimmered across the Dwarf, and her eyes seemed to fill with stars.

  As it dimmed, we all stood in silence with bated breath. Seconds passed, and I felt each heartbeat as they did. My nerves were right at the edge, and I was fit to burst, when she gave a single, slow blink. I could see her eyes refocusing, and I let out my breath in one explosive, relieved sigh. She looked around, the same confusion visible on her face that I had felt on waking up here. “Hi, Sera,” she said. I nearly choked with relief.

  “Hello, Tove,” the unicorn replied. “I am glad to see I could be of help.”

  “What happened?” Ah, truly my favourite question. It was coming up so often these days.

  “I am afraid I shall have to leave that for your companions to explain,” she said. “I cannot remain in this place for long. It is anathema to my kind, and I am sorry to see you have found yourselves here.”

  “Trust me,” Alf muttered, “it certainly wasn’t the plan?”

  “Wait, where are we?” Tove asked. Another classic.

  “The Ruins of Denofell. I will let your allies answer the rest.” She knelt down, letting Tove place a hand on her neck, petting her. “I won’t say I have repaid a debt today, for there are no debts between friends,” she stood back up, “but sadly I have no other horn to give. This one has not yet lived out its days.” It was only as she said this that I realised the horn Alfred had used to call out, or whatever he did, had completely vanished. Presumably it had been used up, or turned into light, or something else mystical and wondrous. “I must hope then that we meet again in safer climes, and until then, I will place my trust in each of you to stay safe.”

  Her piece apparently said, there was another surge of moonlight. When it faded again, she was gone. “It was good of her to come,” Nalfis said, “and even better that she could help.”

  “Bloody annoying is what it was,” Alf complained. “Our first outing, and we’ve already had to use it up. It would have been nice to not immediately need her help.”

  “I’m sorry?” Tove whined. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”

  “Of course not,” he said, actually sounding sincere, “just unfortunate how it worked out.”

  “Tove! How are you? How do you feel?” I’d rushed over as soon as she started speaking, and was now kneeling next to her. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she demurred. “As long as Alf stops being a whiny little bitch.”

  “Frankly,” Nalfis joined in, “he’s done very little other than complain since you became incapacitated.”

  “Bah,” he snapped. “What’s the point in having things to complain about if you don’t complain? Besides, I thought you’d be more sad about missing most of Sera,” he said to Tove.

  “I am sad about that. I’m sure we’ll see her again at some point though.”

  “True.”

  “So how did we get here anyway?”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Sitting in the chair.”

  “Fair enough. Well you sat down, the machine broke into your head, broke your head, and decided you wanted to kill Eoin and Dendallen. It did the first and started to work on the second.”

  “Eoin’s dead?” she interrupted.

  “Assuming that normal things happened when he was thrown out of the window, then yes, he’s dead.” An uncharacteristically savage grin slipped across Tove’s face.

  “Good,” she whispered, vindictively.

  “Quite,” Alf continued. “Anyway, we took you out of the chair, noticed the cannon was starting to charge up and was aiming at Elvenden, so Indy decided to get in the chair, and try to stop that.” Tove shot me a look to convey that she thought I was an idiot. I probably was (or am) but I was also slightly interested to hear what happened, since I had experienced a little bit of a memory lapse after I conveyed the last order to the Colossus.

  “They get in, convince the machine to put the gun away, then the whole thing starts shaking up a storm. The room seals, the head disconnects, and the whole body explodes.” Oh. “We fly a good… I’m not sure how many miles. All of these carpets conveniently spilled out of the walls and made nice lovely cushions for our landing, which was much preferable than becoming jam.”

  “The impact was a bit jarring,” Nalfis contributed.

  “We all came to, summoned Sera, got you patched up, and now here we are.” She just nodded throughout that, taking in the information without any particular reaction or concern other than when Eoin’s death was brought up. “Makes sense,” she said.

  That was officially it for me. This was all a bit much. How could they see this as anything except insane? I felt like I was going mad – I wasn’t panicking about the situation itself, but they were all just so bizarre. Not 5 minutes ago, Tove had been incapable of anything other than breathing, and then a unicorn had appeared, they’d had a bit of a chat, she’d helped Tove, and now everyone seemed happy to go on with their lives like nothing had happened!

  I needed to know more. What had I got myself into here?

  “Who are you?”