Page 126 of Sweetling
Tears streamed down Molly’s face, made icy pinpricks by the wind that lashed her cheeks. She struggled against the leather knot of the reins, working a hand free, but no matter how she tugged and twisted, the unicorn wouldn’t listen.
“Bellarand!”
No,was all he’d say.
Molly screamed and sobbed helplessly, her temper flaring alongside fear for her fae. “We have to help him!” She tugged on the reins again, but they did nothing but tangle in Bellarand’s mane, streaming behind him like a banner as they flew across the countryside.
The wind beat at her cheeks and tore at her eyes, and a steady stream of tears poured down her face. Molly couldn’t stop crying and pleading, but nothing worked. Even driving her heels into the unicorn’s sides as she’d seen other riders do didn’t stop him.
No,he said again—and Molly didn’t imagine the twinge of sadness to his tone.
He didn’t slow, even for corners, so there was nowhere she could safely jump off. She didn’t know what she’d do when she did—tuck and roll and go from there. Allarion needed them, they couldn’t run away!
Don’t you dare!Bellarand thundered.Just hang on.
“We have to go back!” she sobbed more than said.
But Bellarand galloped on—and not to the estate.
Molly grunted when he leapt from the road, cutting through a meadow and up a hillock. Bellarand’s hooves cut through the tall grass, the stalks hitting her like shards. Molly ducked to protect her face, burying it in his mane. Against her lips, she felt how his body shivered with exertion, his pace unforgiving.
Keep low,he commanded, just as Molly thought she heard another set of hooves.
Peeking under her arm, she caught sight of another large unicorn chest, chestnut brown and adorned with a gleaming gold breastplate.
Heart in her throat, Molly kept low over Bellarand’s withers and gave him his head.
The countryside passed them in a blur of colors, almost indiscernible with their speed and Molly’s tears. Her body ached as she was jostled and bounced, but she did her best to move with the unicorn and make herself as small as possible.
Bellarand wove through trees and bounded over roots and logs, kicking up decaying detritus. The air was noticeably damp andcool on her burning cheeks, and Molly shivered.
When they broke through the tree line, it was to catch another road, this one wider and marked on either side with paver stones. As his hooves clattered onto the cleared path, Molly realized where they were—the road south, to Dundúran.
No no no!
“We have to get to Scarborough!” she cried. She didn’t know what she could do there, only that it was home—and where Allarion would go. Imbued with his magic, it was a stronghold. She and the house could—she didn’t know, throw shingles and rotten floorboards, anything to help him!
But Bellarand didn’t respond, not even to tell her no. He leapt forward with every stride, running faster than she’d ever known a beast could run.
Even the other unicorn and fae broke off, unable to keep pace with Bellarand’s blistering gallop.
Molly knew it was no use, but for miles and then hours, she tried to make him turn back. She begged, she pleaded, she threatened.
As the landscape became more familiar, she began to worry about Bellarand, too. His sweat soaked her hands where she clutched to him, and his mane went stringy with it, thick droplets sluicing off as he ran. His black coat rippled under the wan winter sky, but no matter what she said, how she begged, he wouldn’t stop.
The sun raced them, falling to the west as they galloped south. It just touched the tree line as they rounded the bend, Dundúran dominating the horizon.
Bellarand neither slowed nor stopped, barreling through the north city gate and into the cobblestone streets. His hooves clattered, sparks flying beneath them as he ran full tilt. City folk gawped and yelped, some having to dive out of the way of the mad unicorn.
They thundered through the city, everything and everyone jumping out of the way—people, carriages, carts, they all made way for Bellarand the Black.
As they charged through the castle gate, he let out a deafening scream. It echoed across the courtyard, curdling the blood of any who heard.
With one last heave, he crossed the courtyard to the wide steps leading up to the castle. At their foot was where, finally, he came to a skidding stop.
Molly slid off, body quaking with the hours-long ride. Her knees couldn’t bear her weight, and she slumped onto the first step, one of her wrists still caught in the reins. She stared dumbly up at the unicorn, panting and shaking.
Bellarand stood with legs wide apart and locked, barely holding himself up. Foam ringed his lips, and a thick stalactite of saliva drooped from his lolling red tongue. Mane plastered to his neck from sweat, he dropped his great head, utterly exhausted.
