“If I were an evil dragon hoarding a thousand Elves, where would I keep them?” Sam asked. He and Faera were perched on the top of a mountain overlooking both the valley they had come from, and the extension of Tyranus’s lands. Far below them was a tributary that connected to Guilivere, the city on a river which in turn led to the Mississippi. The bald cap of the mountain offered no shelter against the wind, but it allowed the two of them to see hundreds of miles in each direction. On the horizon, Sam could see the telltale smudges of smoke that hinted at civilization. The winding river lead straight to it.

“Couldn’t he keep them anywhere?” Faera asked, leaning against a mossy rock. “It’s not like his rabid followers would care if he’s eating elves--they hate us. They’d probably serve them up.”

“If his citizens don’t care, and he could get away with keeping them anywhere, why deliberately make it illegal to traffic elves? Maybe… Maybe it’s like printing money, he wants the monopoly on it.”

“The kidnapping effort obviously had a lot of manpower behind it,” Faera said, her brows furrowed. “There were jeeps, artillery, even a sorcerer. I don’t know how he got a human sorcerer, but it couldn’t have been cheap.”

“Keeping that many prisoners would be impossible to keep a secret. So rather than keep it secret, he probably wants to keep it secure,” Sam reasoned. “What’s the name of the capital, again?”

“Hope.”

Sam snorted. “Guy’s got a shitty sense of humor. By the way, why didn’t you tell me he was a dragon?” he asked, glancing at Faera, who was dusting herself off, getting ready to move again.

“You literally jumped out the window while I was trying to tell you,” Faera shot back. “You’ve got to be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet, that that worked.”

“Not really,” Sam said. “Dictators, regardless of race, can’t stand to be seen as compromising or weak. When Tyranus’s people looked at that situation, they wondered to themselves who was tougher. If Tyranus had taken any shit from the demon, he’d lose a bit of that glow of fanaticism, and he can’t afford that.”

“Didn’t you give him shit?” Faera asked, setting off down the mountain.

“Yeah, but I’d bet you a week’s worth of cheese that not a single person saw that. They were too busy watching the demon.”

Faera glanced over her shoulder. “Cheese?”

“Never mind,” Sam said, brushing past her.

The slope wore away at their thighs as they descended the mountain in silence, always keeping their bearing on the city in the distance. There was never any definable moment when the mountain stopped and the forest began--the two simply merged--and only after hours of hiking could Sam look back at the mountain and say that they’d left it.

“But we haven‘t,” Faera said. “We’ve got a mild slope for another couple hours until we reach flatland.”

“Damn.” Sam put his head down and kept trudging.

As they descended, the forest grew gradually more damp. Eventually, it seemed like every step sank five inches into a moss that grew straight up out of the water. While Faera hopped from exposed root to fallen log, passing beneath branches that seemed to lift themselves out of her way as she walked, the forest afforded him no such hospitality. Even if he tried to stay dry by stepping on protruding bits of wood or stone, they would invariably snap and sink him into the forest floor. After a few miles, Sam was afraid his sandals were going to fall apart, and he’d have to continue barefoot. Meanwhile, the limbs of the trees seemed intent on smacking him in the face every time he glanced down to check his footing, like the bastards were playing a sadistic game with him. Sam’s size had finally caught up with him.

“This is the border between elven and human territory,” Faera said, pointing to her right. “To the north is First Word and the country of Metade, and to the south is the country of Salvation, apparently.”

“I’m technically a citizen of Metade,” Sam said, cursing when his last sandal strap popped off. He took the soles and tucked them in the waistband of his toga. “Are there elf lawyers?”

“None that would represent you.”

Sam shrugged. “So, how come you guys didn’t notice an entire country on the other side of the forest?”

“Tyranus’s little project sprang up practically overnight. We’ve known about the Mississippi Empire for a hundred years now, but they were never particularly close to our borders. Combine long lifespans with a general apathy for anything that happens outside, and you can bet we’ll miss a few things.”

Faera had taken to picking out paths for Sam to follow, guiding him to the sturdier stumps that he could rest his weight on. Sam’s feet were happy not to be subjected to those inhuman conditions any longer. It was bad enough that they had to take his weight every day of his life, but doing it wet and miserable was just too much. Barefoot in a bog was where his feet drew the line.

Faera stopped, cocking her head to the side. “Something’s following us,” she said, turning to regard the obvious trail Sam had cut through the dense foliage.

“What?” Sam turned to look behind them.maybe the demon had gotten away and was an instant away from jumping down their throats. All he saw was the browns and glowing greens of a forest in the afternoon sun.

“I don’t know, it’s stopped.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“I said I don’t know.” Faera gave Sam a searing look. “But it’s safe to assume. Prey animals don’t stalk people.”

“Don’t get snippy. I was never trained to deal with animals,” Sam said, prying a rock the size of her head loose from the wet forest floor with his fingertips. He hefted the rock in his hand with a grimace. “I miss my mace.”

“Here’s the plan,” Faera said. “It’s stopped because we’re facing it, but when we turn around and start moving again, it’s going to try to pounce on one of us. Probably me, because I seem like the weaker one.”

Sam glanced at Faera sideways. “You aren’t?”

“Shove it. When you hear it begin to charge us, all you have to do is smash it with your rock. Humans have been honing that technique since the dawn of time.”

“Sounds easy, despite your impugning my heritage.”

“Be careful,” Faera said. “We have no idea what is going to burst out of the woods at us. It could be as harmless as a mountain lion, or it could be a Sjidka, in which case we’re fucked. If that rock of yours doesn’t do jack squat, just run. Understood?”

Sam glanced at the rock in his hand and did some quick calculations. The rock was… about seven kilograms, so just under seven thousand joules at a hundred miles an hour. If their attacker didn’t get hurt by that, Sam would be the first one to run away. He could think of two fellows it might not work on, but he didn’t expect to encounter something like them out here in the middle of nowhere.

“All right then,” Sam said, turning back to the south and setting off, keeping Faera ahead of him. His nerves sang as every once in a while he heard a sound from something other.

Sam’s ears were tuned to the sounds coming from behind him, and his gaze intently scanned the sides of the trail for any sign of their pursuer. So, when the root caught his ankle, he stumbled forward, trying to catch himself on a branch as he fell.

Faera glanced over her shoulder as Sam plummeted towards her. The branch he’d grabbed snapped off in his hand, and there was no helping it--he was gonna smash into her. Her eyes went wide, and she twisted out of the way just as a voice boomed through the forest.

“Get away from her, monster!” came a voice that might’ve been called soothing, if it weren’t twisted with anger. A dark beast burst from the woods, charging at him.

Mid-fall, Sam tried to throw his rock, but fumbled it instead. He hit the ground and rolled, while the black-coated animal sailed over him.

Their pursuer reared to a stop beside Faera. “We haven’t got much time,” that pleasant voice said. “Get on, before he catches you again.”

Sam’s elbows sank into the moss as he took in the scene.

A horse was speaking to the stunned elf. A horse with a horn.

“That’s new,” Sam grunted. He crawled to his feet, looking for something to protect himself with. The branch was woefully rotten, not good to use as a club no matter how much it looked like one, and his rock was sunk.

“It’s okay,” Faera said. “He’s not--”

“Oh, no, he’s up again!” the horse said, lowering its now glowing horn to point at him. Without another word, the massive horse spurred forward, trying to skewer him.

Sam tried to move out of the way, but both his feet were somehow stuck. He didn’t have time to unstick them, didn’t even have time to figure out what they were stuck on. Rather than look down like an idiot and get horned, he’d rather make lemonade.

He caught the beast’s horn and pulled the massive animal’s head to the side. As Sam touched the glowing horn, he felt a strange calm he’d only experienced in moments of solemn contemplation. The feeling was so sweet it brought tears to his eyes, and he nearly let go.

Then the animal’s chest, a battering ram of flesh and bone, slammed against Sam, tearing him loose from the ground. Sam held tight to the horn and threw his left arm around the thing’s neck as it began to drag him through the woods. In the distance, he glimpsed Faera standing beside where he had been stuck, which was marked by a tangle of vines in two conspicuous clumps.

“Get off me, you foul demon, spawn of mankind’s evil!” the bucking horse shouted as it tried to alternately gore Sam and slam him against the trees.

“How about no, you crazy talking horse!” Sam returned, kicking off the ground and swinging his leg over so it couldn’t slam him into the trees anymore.

The horse went stock still, Sam’s momentum nearly throwing him over its head. Its ears flicked back as it stared at him with a single bloodshot eye. “What did you just call me?” it demanded, melodic voice echoing through the trees.

“Are you not?” Sam asked, coming upright on the horse’s back. It was a reasonable enough assumption; there was some pretty interesting engineered life by the late twenty-one twenties. So anything was possible, although Sam was fairly sure that making domesticated animals sentient was on the list of No-Nos. Normally he’d file that under To Investigate but he was busy.

The horse stared at him for a moment longer, then all hell broke loose. The thing started bucking with purpose, forcing Sam to duck down, grab its neck, and hang on for dear life--all while avoiding the pointy bit the horse was waving around as it tried to arch its neck enough to stab him.

“Stop! He’s harmless!” Faera cried.

Harmless?!

“Yeah, right!” the horse said, arguing the point before Sam could.

“I got this!” Sam called as he and the horse wrestled. The horse ran circles around Faera, trying to pry Sam off against trees and hit him with low branches. Sam lost some skin on his leg when he was just a little slow getting out of the way of an oncoming trunk.

The horse did a quick turn and let its front legs fold, diving into a brutal roll meant to squish Sam. Sam, in turn, jumped off the horse and grabbed its horn, twisting the horse’s head down with everything he had.

Despite Sam’s efforts to hold the beast down, it managed to get its feet under it again--and he managed to dive on its back again in the single breath he had before it tried to pick his nose with its horn.

The horse reared back, and Sam held on as it began speeding forward again. “Take it back!” it shouted, flying through the woods. Sweat rolled across Sam’s forehead, working its way to the back of his neck as a result of the acceleration. Trees flashed by at incredible speed, and still the horse was keeping Faera, who seemed to be calling after them, in sight.

“You called me a demon spawn of mankind’s evil!” Sam protested.

“It’s true!”

“And you’re a talking horse!”

“I’m a unicorn, obviously!”

“A what?”

“Agh!” The self-proclaimed ‘unicorn’ lunged toward a tree, trying to scrape Sam off again.

It was the move Sam had been waiting for. He grabbed the horn with both hands and yanked to the left.

The horn stabbed deep into the tree. Sam experienced a moment of weightlessness as he and the unicorn went down in a tumble of hooves, fists and dust. One hoof caught him across the chest, sending a popping sensation throughout Sam’s body. Then they hit the ground, and the infighting started.

Sam tackled the unicorn that was trying to pry its horn from the tree, taking advantage of the extra weight to keep its head pinned. Sam, just out of range of the flailing hooves, had won.

“Let go of my horn, Demon.”

“No until you calm down, Horse.”

The unicorn glared at him with its brown eyes, and then its horn began to glow again. The tree began to grow and stretch, and branches quickly wound themselves around Sam’s limbs, securing him to the same trunk as thoroughly as if he’d been tied there by a rope.

“Let go now, or you will starve to death where you lay. Or fall asleep and I will ram this horn through you so hard your spine will come out the other side.”

“I guess we’ll see who falls asleep first,” Sam said, glaring back at the stubborn animal.

The unicorn’s nostrils flared, and then its lids lowered as it breathed in deeply. “That can’t be…”

“Hey!” Faera shouted, slapping both Sam and the unicorn across their faces. The two immobilized combatants didn’t really have a say in the matter.

“You,” Faera said, pointing at Sam. “Let her go. She’s a unicorn.”

“And you,” Faera said, pointing at the unicorn. “Let him go, he’s helping me.”

“I’m supposed to let her go just because she’s a unicorn? That doesn’t even mean--” Sam’s words were interrupted by another slap from Faera. He glanced down as he felt movement, and saw the tender wood unwrapping from his arms and legs. “Fine, but this better not bite me in the ass,” he said, and let go of the horn with a sigh.

Sam and the unicorn stood, staring at each other. The unicorn’s nostrils flared as it appraised Sam.

“You,” it said, its eyes narrowed. “Pet me.”

“Excuse me?”